Monday, June 27, 2005

Associate / Facilitator

I think I applied for the wrong job. I think I applied for a job that doesn't pay anything. Oops. That's a fairly significant error and also one which likely increases my chances of acquiring the job. Sigh. Perhaps I'm misunderstanding things. Perhaps this is a necessary step to the paying job? Maybe I won't get any job at all.

I am preparing to say goodbye to so many people and it doesn't even seem real.

Sunday, June 26, 2005


And you are?


There were so many that he was wrong for me, wrong for my family, wrong wrong wrong. But in some very big ways he was exactly right. A trade-off. I know I am right in my choice (though Paul never offered me a real choice... it's not that I don't love you...) but the ways in which Paul was right for me then, and still would be now, can weigh heavily at times.

Jason, Jeff and Dave

I have never in my life had such good friends as Jason, Jeff and Dave. Now that I think about it. I don't think I realised how lucky I was when I knew them. I don't think I saw how truly unusual they were. What boys, when you're seventeen, want to go to the university and sit on the grass and talk about ideas for writing books? What boys, when you're seventeen, sing James Taylor and Don McLean and know all the words and most of what they mean?

Ain't it just like a friend of mine to hit me from behind.

I asked Dave what that meant. He said he didn't know. He wouldn't.

Jason came from a good family with a Nori and a Jeff and I forget his father.... but they loved him. They came to his plays, they smiled at his friends, they kept their kitchen clean. Dave lived with his father and maybe the father's girlfriend (now that's a spicy pizza!). One of the first things I remember Dave telling me was about his stepfather locking him outside in the winter in his underwear. I thought he was joking at first. Jeff. Jeff went to a private school and wore a jacket and tie in his school picture. I guess they had money. I don't know if they were kind, but I think so. Jeff lived like a rich hippie. VW van, harmonica, nothing but leisure time.

They were good to me. They almost never hurt me. They did what they promised, they always showed up when and where they said they would. They listened when I talked and they thought about who I really was in their plans. I didn't realise how rare they were. I really didn't.

It almost makes me ache inside to think about those years, how good they really were. What beautiful people I knew, what wonderful friends I had. I miss them now.

Thursday, June 23, 2005

But I have promises to keep And miles to go before I sleep

When I am lying in bed waiting to fall asleep, I usually think about how things should be. That means I think about what you should have done and should have said, and how if you had said and done those things I could have said and done the things I was supposed to do.

But most of the time things don't go that way, and most of the time I fall asleep before I get it all straight in my head, the way it should have been.

Sunday, June 12, 2005


It's raining again. It's been raining for days and days and days and days. I think it's likely the basement will go back to being submerged before it is fixed. I don't believe that the fix is really going to fix it either. I am concerned about selling it. I am concerned about selling this problem to anyone else. I am concerned about not being able to sell this problem to anyone else.

Today is a day of freedom from the crush of waiting. Today I said goodbye. Today I said I get what you're saying, forget I asked. That's not really supposed to feel good, but it does. Well, it feels better, anyway. Better than waiting.

I miss Shawn. I miss having a normal life where I live with my husband. I hope our new home will facilitate a new life. I hope I won't have to wait and wait and wait.

Friday, June 10, 2005

Writing songs I can't believe with words that tear and strain to rhyme.

It aggravates me beyond belief that I am still being controlled. That I am still allowing him to decide how I feel, still letting his neglect and pedantic pace rattle me. Why did I answer at all? Why not let HIM wonder and worry? (But would he...?)

I am fed up with this.

I have got to stop letting him have this kind of power.

Perhaps my banishment will serve me well in the end.

Saturday, June 04, 2005

He answered

He answered me after that. He sounded pouty. He pointed out how I had been the one to tell him not to talk to me, I had been the one to pull away. That is true. He also said I still love you, I'm still in love with you, It just won't go away. Somehow, tragically, that makes it easier not to speak to him again.