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Saturday, Jul. 10, 2004 - 9:09 p.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. All She Wants is To Vaccuum oh what is wrong with me what is wrong with me. A lovely women's play party... lots of dykes and bi girls and straight girls who are quite kinky who play with girls, all dressed up and having fun... And I should be dressed and in the car RIGHT NOW on my way there. What am I doing? Uploading my comics page that I just finished... and no, I didn't put it off, or rush or anything. I had a big breakfast and three coffees at the cafe and drew my page. And now I will vaccuum and then walk the dog. I am so tempted to stay home and put a coat of paint on the handles cut into the doggy trailer box. And pick up after my last contract, filing reference photos and putting all the contract info into a labelled envelope. Wash the floor and trim the grass in the front yard. Go through the paperwork lying in a pile, and sort through all the receipts and put them into their separate little envelopes. Indeed pick up and clean up and sort out. Maybe mend some clothes that are waiting for the sewing machine. Water the plants and read my insurance renewal contract. Then read my novel in bed. That is what I would like to do. But I have Lucky Kitty expecting me, and I have volunteered for cleanup and maybe a DM shift. People to see places to go. So I am sort of compromising. I am vaccuuming and walking the dog and getting there maybe 11pm instead of just past 9pm. At least I won't cringe when I walk into the house and see the floor (using the drill and gluing chairs is not good for having a spotless floor... but YAY!! the chairs aren't a risk to life and limb anymore!!) Tah. BTW I am quite enjoying reading The Stubborn Season by Lauren B. Davis. I can see why my Mom liked it. It is about a girl whose mother has a case of the nerves as they called it then. And fluctuated between nice and totally nasty, keeping her close and acting as if every and any thing she did not involving her mom was a betrayal. Given that my grandmother was very much like this in many ways, it is eerily close to what my mother lived as a girl and young teenager, complete with the father dying when she was 17 or so. I think that is how old my mom was when her dad died. Very interesting. A good study of the interaction of people going quietly nuts, other people denying there is a problem, and doing a coverup, all the while totally paranoid about what the neighbors think, and trying to keep face. Ending up in refuge in alcohol, all the while denying once again that a little tipple here there and everywhere throughout the day is in fact alcoholism. Anyways, I am only halfway through it, but so far I am enjoying it. It says on the cover something about every sentence being carefully crafted or somesuch, but I am not really in agreement with that. The writing is good, but there are almost no little jewels where the words roll around in your mouth and you want to savour them, Or succinct phrases that paraphrase in a cutting brilliant manner something you have never been able to put words to. I haven't been bookmarking and writing down quotes. But the book is good nonetheless, and anyone who has been in a sticky emotional situation of craziness and loyalties, fighting with normality, will identify. With that, I am off to clean up the floor. Drat. I swear I would rather be doing something totally light and goofy. Maybe dancing the polka to ridiculous lyrics, or watching a comedy sitcom. Sigh. Ah, the demands of being a cutting edge kinky girl. Sigh. As if. me, wenchola 1 People have left cute, callous or caring comments on the wench's wordiness!! Go to "notes" instead of comments ps, you'll need to email me for a username and password
previous meanderings - future past Goodbye Michael. May your next life be kinder to you. - Thursday, Jun. 25, 2009
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*inspired by Chaosdaily