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Hold on to what is good even if it is a handful of earth.
Hold on to what you believe even if it is a tree which stands by itself.
Hold on to what you must do even if it is a long way from here.
Hold on to life even when it is easier letting go.
Hold on to my hand even when I have gone away from you.
- Pueblo Blessing

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Friday, Apr. 28, 2006 - 9:51 a.m.

Cost of the War in Iraq
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WARNING!!!! if you know me personally, you may read my diary, but if you do, you take the chance of hearing things you don't want to know, misunderstanding what I've written and being hurt by it. If you are unsure if it is ok to read, save yourself and me the grief and heartache, and ask first!!! Please note that this is a DIARY, ie my subjective feelings, hearsay, suppositions, and outpourings of ranting of the moment. It does not represent objective news, the whole of what I think of a topic or someone, or even a thought-out representation of any of the above. Keep that in mind. Thanks. * Here is a Diary Etiquette Read Me.

The Suckup

I am just the shits at this relationship stuff, or non-relationship stuff.

I never know when to leave. Or when to stay. Or when to stay away.

I am strong and then I am weak and needy.

I can be attractive but then so unattractive.

I can put up too much with shit and distance, and then be shorttempered and demanding and throw it all away at the touch of a feather after toughing through for ages.

I am just the shits at this relationship stuff.

Artsyguy likes me. He said he wouldn't invite me up if he didn't. Yes, that makes sense. He invites me to go for breakfast on Sunday morning at the coffeeshop. He comes over for dinner and talks for hours. He invites me in and shares his music editing with me. When I am sad he gives me a hug and asks if I want to sleep over.

Artsyguy makes me so very sad. I cannot help comparing how he was when he was saying how cute I was, how beautiful, how he wanted to do a "long bout de chemin avec moi" (a long piece of road with me), telling his kids he was in love with me, holding my hands, couldn't stop kissing me. Looking at me as though I was funny and beautiful and wonderful. Now when I get friendliness I feel like bursting out in tears. When I get a hug instead of sexiness I want to sit down in despair. When I get a kiss on the cheeks (or puckered mouth instead of soft lips) instead of a kiss on the mouth, I cry inside. The world feels like it is going backwards. The longer I know people, the less they want to be with me.

Yes yes yes, there is all that about how I am the one who actually called it quits. But it is like every relationship I have had. It is me who calls it quits, but it is them who pull away in the relationship. No more talking, no more sex, no more cuddling, prefering to spend time with friends or alone than with me. Ignoring or distancing when we do go somewhere together. And then *I* call it quits after trying to make it work for so long, and then they are like "why are you sad, you left ME". hah. you left me every day in the relationship. I didn't make your face light up anymore.

I dunno. And then they still care about me, but the walls the walls. So I become a hangabout. A friend. And if I don't become a hangabout? well, they do not come after me, oh yes they do for the first two days. The phonecall or visit "we can still see eachother. maybe we'll get back together. please still speak to me". But then they don't come by anymore. We don't get back together. We speak, in passing. Like that Sinead song.

Anyways, yeah. I see him all the time. I see him when he gets on his bike to go to work in the morning and I am walking my dog. I see him when he comes home from work at night and I am walking my dog. I drop by. I see him when he goes climbing and I go climbing. He comes for supper. I offer. I did his laundry yesterday. Don't be down on him. I insisted. He said no. I said yes and took it. I fixed his pants.

It helps me function and go forward. The less I have to do the less I do. I stop moving and do nothing. Taking the sewing machine out to fix his pants got me fixing other things of mine I'd procrastinated on. Got me making new over-the-shoulder carriers for waterbottles... it is getting to be spring (though it has been cold lately) and I lost doggy's waterbottle carrier last fall. It's a pain in the ass to carry around a waterbottle all day without a shoulder strap on it. So I made two last night.

And I went out and shopped for a basket to take books around for my kid's reading service. I found a really nice one, sort of old english garden-looking, made of twigs with one big handle, at a florist's. It had a few twigs missing, so I got it for $16 instead of the $23 they were asking. A steal. I will sew a fabric lining and then I can fill it with books for whatever age kids I am going to go read for. I will try to finish my poster this weekend and put it up and hope for some work. I hope it takes off. I don't know.

But I have to make some money somehow.

I am so depressed about the no $ thing. I am not even working to have something to bill in the next month or so. OK I have two drawings. But that is not enough. It is not ongoing work. Last night I sent the text someone had proposed to me for a children's book to a friend who is an editor. He confirmed what I thought... it should never have been sent to me to consider cuz it is the worst example of something pretending to be a book text he has ever seen. He said it worries him that I didn't trust myself enough to know that without asking him. Well, I thought so too, but the writer and people proposing this to me are people who are in the industry, who are well-known (not as writers but as agents, friends of important editors etc). So I thought maybe there is some way I can work around this bad text, work with it, get paid, make good contacts. But no. It would be horrid to work on, would be a horrid project, not lucrative, but timeconsuming. With no forseeable positive results in the end. My drawings would sort of be like putting really great creamcheese icing and cake decorations on a stack of garbage. No restaurant customer is going to eat it. If they try it they will warn their friends away. You don't want to be the one doing the icing on trash. Nope.

So now I have to not only turn down work when i need it, but do it in a nice way to not put these important contacts off me. Dread dread dread.

Well, I finally had an idea for the comic pages I need to do for someone's website, so I will go to the coffeeshop now to do the sketches. The kitty is going to be upset: she is all settled in flopped over my typing arm. (which yes, is very uncomfortable though comforting... what would I do without my animals?)

Bye for now.
the suckup
doing men's laundry.
what a ditz.

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previous meanderings - future past

Goodbye Michael. May your next life be kinder to you. - Thursday, Jun. 25, 2009
Taking Care of Your Cows - Thursday, Jun. 25, 2009
Saint Joseph robs the cradle and eats spaghetti - Sunday, Jun. 14, 2009
sticky notes and broken irises - Friday, Jun. 12, 2009
The FOODCOMMANDER - Monday, Jun. 08, 2009


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