Dad and I were listening to Michael Savage on KSFO today as we were driving to Costco. And to put it mildly, Michael has some extreme views. He is very abrupt on air, and if he is "right" about something will not let a caller get a word in edgewise. Dad and I missed the first part of the show, but a caller had called in to make a comment about something he previously mentioned. Specifically toe rings. Toe rings you say? What could possibly be controversial about toe rings? Well according to Michael, the women who wear them have questionable moral standards. In other words, they are sluts. Um, excuse me?

Basically he saw them as some form of "code" that women wore them to let men know that they were "wild" in bed. So the woman who called was of course angry with Michael's very generalizing assumption that she was a slut. She liked wearing toe rings, and her husband enjoyed it too. Isn't that all that matters? It had nothing to do with sexuality in the way he saw it. Merely another way to adorn the body. He basically told her to take it behind closed doors.

Geeeez. And for the record, I wear two toe rings. ;o) And usually no other jewelry except a bracelet and a necklace. Does that make me a slut squared? Tee-hee!!

I uploaded some fun old pictures today.

It's hot. Very hot.

Today I actually accomplished quite a bit. Probably since my area manager D., and the Soft Side manager, M. were both off. I am off tomorrow and I can't wait, I want to sleep and sleep and sleep. Oh yes and get a manicure. A relaxing day all to myself. And next week I actually have two days off in a row! Amazing!!

Well I didn't go to the movies, although I did doze. I was going to go with M. I called and left him a voice mail as it was getting to be near 8pm, and I didn't want to go to a later show as it's a three hour movie and I have to go to work early tomorrow. He called me back, explaining that his wife fell and broke her foot. Oh poor baby. *Meow*.

I got an e-mail today from a reader calling me a brave soul. A brave soul for sharing what basically is my life with whoever happens across these ramblings. I wouldn't say brave per se. Actually I don't know what to call it. I have an urge to write. I used to keep a "normal" journal. But I would go weeks at a time with not writing in it, and often times, the thoughts in my head run to fast for me too capture them on paper. I am at my computer alot. LOL. So this seemed a natural outlet for me. Perhaps I reveal too much of myself, I don't know. Perhaps all these ramblings and musings will come to haunt me in the future, but for this moment, the public ramblings and musings just feel right.

I was reading the latest copy of Marie Claire and they had a horoscope special featuring Your Sex Sign. So of course I had to find out "what Mars, the planet of sexuality, reveals about you in lust and love."

"The Sun, which dictates your astrological sign, is only one of 10 planets in your birth chart. The other nine each influence a different area of your life. To know yourself better and see deeper into your relationship patterns, study these other planets in your horoscope -- especially Mars.

Mars is the planet of sexuality. It drives your sexual drive and behavior -- and is responsible for your passionate energy.

The sign that Mars occupies in your horoscope reveals your sexual style: your preferences and needs, the ways you make love, which techniques you like a lover to arouse you, and the positions you find most erotic. It speaks of the deep sensuality that lies underneath your civilized behavior, the secret passion you crave, and even the X-rated behavior you fantasize about.

Mars in Pisces
Who You Are
You're sensual and bewitching -- an intensely feminine creature with deeply erotic passions and a sympathetic soul. Basically, you need to be needed, and if a man opens up to you, you can't help but reach out and pull him close. Because you're a sucker for a sad story, you've had your share of lovers who used you. Yet you're blessed with the capacity to have a grand romance, an intense sexual bonding, and a profoundly spiritual connection all at once. You're extraordinarily sensual and responsive -- not to mention unihibited in your lovemaking.

Who's Right For You
If you had known early on, you could have spared yourself a lot of grief. In time, however, you have learned that when you let a needy, beguiling man into your bed, emotional pain will follow. You need a strong protector with a realistic approach to life -- and a truly romantic approach to you. So look for a masculine, masterful lover who's also a tender, optimistic helpmate. Strong sexual matches: Sun sign Taurus and Capricorn.

What's In Store
This summer, you begin a new emotional journey -- an erotic adventure with someone who adores you. This man may already be in your life or may be about to find you. But once you "recognize" him, you'll play out a secret love fantasy. Before you embark on your trip, lighten your baggage by tossing aside something you've been hanging on to for security. Consider what you have to gain, as opposed to what you're losing, and you'll have no fear.

I can barely keep my eyes open and I am supposed to see Pearl Harbor tonight. I think I may doze a bit...

12:34pm. This is the true test. Here I am at work, on my lunch. I'm not really hungry so I am just having a soda..bit will everything sync properly tonight? Hmmmmm.

I went in early for a class on All-Clad pots and pans. It was actually pretty interesting. I think I may get a set next time it is on incentive. Or at least a few key pieces.

And we have a new customer service manager, A. She doesn't want to be here any more than we want her here, thus she seems quite the bitch. Maybe she will get her wish of a transfer.

I went to M.'s last night. After that IM that freaked the hell out of me, him claiming to be J. and asking the nature of our relationship. I sometimes wonder why people get married if they know they are going to cheat. He says it doesn't bother him...and I guess it doesn't really bother me, or else I'd stop going over there. But way back in the back of my mind, it's there, pulling at me. *sigh*

Okay, my lunch is over...Damn.

It seems to be working which is really really cool. That means random musings from work! Oooooh the excitement! I wonder if you can do really long posts? Hmmmmmm. I really like this.

I stubbed my toe when I was at the bookstore. It hurts big time. A small "bite" of my toe-nail was taken out, and it bled. Now my pedicure is messed up. :o(

Well it seems to be working so that is GREAT news. Check out this page for all the low-down.

Please work.

Hmmmm the last two posts are from the Visor, but its still acting a bit wonky...hmmmm....

Let's see if this works again.

Test.

I'm feeling wistful again and the urge to travel is strong...looking towards the exspanse of Scotland:

I found a beautiful print today when I was at Target. It's of the Mathematical Bridge in Cambridge. So called since it was designed so well that it needed no bolts or nails to hold it together. Then of course someone had to take it apart, and when it was rebuilt it had to be reinforced. Makes you wonder why people mess with perfection. I took a similar picture when I was in Cambridge in 1994.



The print I got is taken from the opposite angle. It's black and white and misty. I'd really love to go back.

My allergies have been acting up all day. I hate sneezing. And my nose constantly runs. It's no fun at all. And my lips get really dry.

I love this song.

*** LaBelle didn't understand lyrics

WASHINGTON (AP) - Patti LaBelle said she didn't know the meaning of
the famous French line in "Lady Marmalade" when her group, LaBelle,
recorded the hit in 1974. In the song about a New Orleans
prostitute, the group sings, "Voulez vous coucher avec moi ce soir?"
Translated into English, that means, "Will you sleep with me
tonight?" "I just knew it sounded cute. Soon after that we found
out, but we said, well, let's keep it anyway," LaBelle told AP
Radio. "There's nothing you can do about that. You know, that's
someone's lifestyle, and I'm just gonna sing about it." LaBelle, 57,
said she's thrilled with the version of "Lady Marmalade" that
appears on the "Moulin Rouge" movie soundtrack. Christina Aguilera,
Lil' Kim, Mya and Pink did a cover of the song, which moves from No.
3 to No. 1 next week on the Billboard Hot 100 despite the fact that
it is not available as a single. "The girls who are doing it now,
they're doing such a wonderful job," she said. "The video is
beautiful and I'm really happy. Whenever I hear it, I get a glow."

Ahhh here I am. It feels so good to relax, and sit back, and not really do anything. It's warm, but not uncomfortably so.

We have new neighbors across the street. The house is a rental, and the last family to live there was actually pretty nice. This family seems so too, they put a flag up for Memorial Day. It is a beautiful flag, and it was lit up when I got home earlier this evening. It was refreshing to see someone actually following correct protocol.

Dad bought a gas barbecue grill. I guess it has been something he's wanted for a long time, and the decision was cemented during his last attempt at barbecuing. It's HUGE. LOL. Mom said it took him five hours to put that thing together. I asked Dad how it went and he said three. Hmmmm....LOL. It's making its maiden voyage tomorrow. Spare ribs, pounds and pounds of them. MMMMMMMmmmmm. And little corns. :o) I am salivating right now just imagining the potato swimming with sour cream, and as it melts mixing with the butter and the barbecue sauce. And a nice crisp salad with Ceasar dressing. Okay now I am really hungry.

Work was suprisingly not that bad today, and the majority of customers were friendly. I was helping a really great couple locate items on a bridal registry. I was wearing my new jeans that have arrows stitched on them in gold, radiating from the leg and waist. (A bit hard to explain I know.) With a black top and a gold/copper belt. Anyway, one of the guys said, "Those pants look great on you." And it just made my day. I said thank-you and confessed that I had just gotten them and that they were on sale! I love a good sale.

And I am still trying to figure out the whole AvantGo/Blogger thing.

As usual, I don't want to go to work.

It worked! It worked!! Yipee!! You know what this means don't ya? I can blog from my Visor!! Woo-hoo!!! :o)

Okay lets see if the move to Geocities works.

Yep server is still down...

I think I should probably go to bed. Work tomorrow...err...today...8:30.

I got another IM today, a phone call needs to be made tomorrow. I am not ready to talk about it. After the phone call I think...maybe...

Ahhhh blog*spot is down.

It's warm again here in the house and I have to go to work in the morning. *JOY* I am not looking forward to it. It's not a hard job, its just all the crap we have to put with. Oh well, we do what we have to do.

So apparently I have to go to this stupid customer service class *again.* B. at work IMed me and told me -- since I haven't been at work for the last week. (And oh how nice that has been) I wasn't "friendly" enough. Geeeeez am I supposed to a freakin' lap dance? Oh and I while I was knowledgeable, and not friendly enough, I also didn't ask if she needed a pillow protector. Oh yeah, and she asked for a firm pillow, and I reccommended the most exspensive one. Um...hello...the most exspensive one is firm. I swear you're damned if you do, damned if you don't. Oh and on the subject of pillow protectors, the most exspensive one we sell, the one I use myself, and the one I suggested comes with a pillow protector. Why would you need a second one? Actually I don't know if I have to go yet, I guess I will find out tomorrow.

I really hate my job.

Thinking about B. still really gets me upset.

A cute message from Eddy calling me a "Blog Girl" has got me humming the theme to Goldfinger. Can't you just see Shirley Bassey (It is Shirley Bassey right?) practically shouting "Gold Finger!!!"

And I really shouldn't answer IM's at one in the morning:

"Hello. What would you do if you opened your purse and found a tiny man inside?"

"Ummmm....why do you ask?"

"Hi. I'm Willie, the tiny man in your purse."

Okay!

Don't hate me because I am beautiful.

I have a picture of Trixie (my repainted Gene doll who is a bit on the "wild" side) in my Yahoo! Profile and I got this e-mail today which amused me to no end:

Hi!

I saw your picture on your profile, and I think you
have a really great look. I am a model scout for the
number one model marketing company in the world,
eModel.com. At eModel, we market potential models to
over 5,000 registered clients in our database,
including Gap, Pepsi, E!, Walt Disney, Guess, Glamour,
MTV, Sony, Paramount Pictures, Nike, and Victoria's
Secret, just to name a few.

That really made me giggle. LOL.

Today is the last day of my vacation. I did absolutely nothing I had planned on doing. But I didn't really think much about work and it was really nice.

Time for an update at the old Spark.

Here's the old one:

"http://puella.blogspot.com/

"And then the day came when the risk to remain tight in a bud was more painful than the risk it took to blossom." --Anäis Nin

Spring cleaning I guess you could say. Actually for once, *I* don't have anything to say! Amazing isn't it? But as soon as something comes to me, I'll let you all know. :o)

~update~ 3/31/01 ahhh I just looked at a list of the most popular names -- the top 100 to be exact, and my name didn't make the list. Hmmmm should I be glad or sad? Anyways, lots and lots of updates over at the web-log, URL up above there. Till next time...

~update~ 4/5/01 Late night infomercials are quite entertaining. Polite applause, cheesy music, "Wow! What a great product!" I think I need to go to bed now, lol...

~update~ 4/17/01 a bumper sticker: Visualize swirled peas. a liscense plate on a new black VW Beetle: SKARAB...sing with me..."It's not easy being green..."

~update~ I have a bruise on me knee. WHEE!!!"

And the new:

A year older...but a year wiser? I am actually not so sure. Alot has happened in the last year, some of it good, some of it not so good...but experiences shape a person and I wouldn't trade that for the world. What will my 28th year bring to me? Only time will tell...

Impressions from today...laying there, eyes half closed, turning my head to see the glint of gold on his finger, knowing that my finger is bare...wondering what the hell I am doing as I am doing it. Knowing that as I drive to my destination, the only real reason I am there is for that...twirling my hair up, "I have to put my hair up." Repeating it as sensations overwhelm me. *sigh* I don't recall seeing the ring before, although in the back of my mind I always knew it was there.

I miss kissing...I really enjoy that. I am in one of those moods again I think, it's hot, I am here alone, and I am thinking about stuff probably more than I should. I was once told I overanalyze things. J. is probably right about that.

More Monkey Man!!!

By the way, NewsBlogger is really cool.

Hmmm...an interesting turn of events:

Monkey man attacker not an animal
Psychiatrist says Monkey Man mystery is like penis panic
Monkey man blamed on gang

Murder trial unearths dirty secret of hotel bedspread stains All I can say is ewwwwwwwwwwwwww.

I had my Peach Pleasure. Mmmmmmmmmmm I think I am addicted. I guess I could be addicted to worse things. Went shopping today. Picked up a new halter top and a camoflage tanktop. I am picking up Mom from work and we will be hitting the mall afterwards. I may have to get another halter top I think.

Added another coat of polish to the Aqua Blast I am wearing, this one's called Go-Go, its turquoise glitter.

I really want a Jamba Juice. I had the Orange Mango Zoom earlier, but I still think I like the Peach Pleasure best.

It's still hot.

Oooooh the excitement!!! I tweaked the colors here and over at The Kristana Spa Blog.

Bay Area crowds bask in Dalai Lamas teachings about peace It's interesting to think, that this great man is just a regular guy. "With his typical good cheer, the Dalai Lama also told the adoring crowd that his favorite thing to do during his free time was to sleep -- "seven hours.''

Damn its hot.

My eye is watering, like I have an eyelash floating on my eyeball. I once wanted to be an eyeball for Halloween. I really have no idea why. It never happened though.

Anubis grinning like a...jackel.

This page has some translations from The Book of the Dead.

(Yes I know its late, but thats what I get for going to bed early, lol.)

Here ya go, everything you ever wanted to know about Anubis, Egyptian God of the Dead.

My teeth hurt, the very core of them. I think I have to make that dreaded trip to the dentist. I've been bad and its been years since I have gone. I think the last time was when I got one of my wisdom teeth pulled. I am not even sure if I have dental coverage. I hope I do.

The movie was good, but L. is right, they portrayed Anubis wrong. Anubis from what I recall is the guardian of the underworld, not the Kali-esque god they portrayed. I'll have to look into that though, just to satisfy my own curiosity.

I think I am going to go to bed...its a bit early, but my head is pounding...

Russell Crowe to take on Henry VIII Can I volunteer for the part of Henry's wife? Any of them? ;o)

I dreamed about London last night.

The Saga...the following are copies of e-mails I sent to my friend R., trying to explain the whole situation. Rather than rewrite them, I just copied and pasted...(I'm lazy, what can I say ;o)

Stop the ride I want to get off!!

I have had a most unusual past couple of days...and a
whole range of emotions I do not wish on to anyone...I
mean I hope no one ever goes through what we all (all
my fellow doll collecting friends) have gone through.

Okay...so when we last left off, I was trying to deal
with the pain suffered from the loss of a friend. I
wouldn't say he was my closest friend, but we have
known each other for five years, we talked weekly, we
saw yeach other in the flesh yearly, and alot of my
doll collecting habit would not have been to the
extent it was were it not for this circle of
friends...

As the week got later...I am not recalling exactly
when I e-mailed you...but the death happened on Monday
late of last week...we found out Tuesday...by Friday
we had still not heard of any arrangements. I was
checking the Houston Chronicle web site daily for the
notice as were several others...On Thursday both G.
and E. and their daughters were in Chicago for the
same convention that D. and F. were going to.

Monday afternoon, W. called me again, we had been
in constant contact the past week. He asked if I was
sitting down and I said yes. He told me. "D. is
ALIVE."

Okay hello, WHAT? We were in shock yet again...it all
started with a comment G. had made when she came
back from the convention...we always post our reports:

Here's the pertinent post...its easier than me
paraphrasing (my notes highlighted by **)

It is my understanding from a limited conversation
with N.S. and T.C. **both from the
Tonner Doll Company sponsoring the event** that F.
spoke with T. twice about D. The first call was
to let them know that D. was in the hospital and
unable to travel. The second to let them know he died.
E. talked with them before I did, does this seem
accurate to you E.? We were trying to figure out what
happened when, but T. couldn't recall when he had
gotten the message nor did he know when the original
message had been left. They seemed to be under the
impression he had been sick for awhile.

N. did mention that during the first call T. had
offered to ship the event dolls and F. said he
preferred shipping to cancelling. She made no mention
of what T. and F. may have discussed during the
second call, other than to say she was surprised at
how organized F. was to locate them during the event
preparation, call with updates and FedEx C.'s
jewelry (both C. and the jewelry were
beautiful.)**E.'s daughter wears an outfit that is
in the current year's doll's line -- D. has made
the jewelry every year.**

With regards to his account, **D. was also a
dealer of the Tonner dolls, offering them to our group
at 10% above his cost.** I do not know his status. Nor
do I have any insight into whether F. would close or
continue it. If you'd like me to, I can see if I can
find out more when Tonner's staff returns and
recuperates from convention.

I do not want to see anyone on the Lot miss out on
anything Tonner they'd like. **G. is a dealer as
well.** If there's something you want me to order,
whether it's something new that's caught your eye or
something limited that you'd prefer to cover your base
on, e-mail me and I'll do my best.

So he's during the time we think he is dead...F.,
D.'s partner has time to call a doll company, but
not any of his "friends?"

I think I recall mentioning to you that we think
sometime on Monday D. unsubscribed himself from
our Yahoo! Doll club. It's unlisted so you have to be
invited to get in, and once unsubbed there is no way
in except by invitation. However our club had a small
back-door which was left ajar...On a lark we created a
Yahoo id named "blanche_honey" she was like the
cocktail waitress of the club...it was a running thing
that when something good happened, we yell for Blanche
to pour the champagne. The password was common
knowledge. And while it had been ages since anybody
used the log in name, it was there, and I have no
doubt it was used during this time. So while we are
grieving...D. has a line into the club....

Okay I am going to send this one and get into the next
section....(it's like a soap opera I swear!!!!)

In the Spiral
Okay Yahoo is cooroperating here is E.'s take on
events. My comments preceded by **

D(iabolical) and F(******) episode

Okay, I have not had a chance to relay what happened
in Chicago so here goes...

When I checked in on Thursday at 12:30 pm, the clerk
said to me "and you have a package here." I don't know
why but I knew immediately it was C.'s jewelry
from D. My heart was pounding when I looked at
the FEDEX envelope and saw it was sent May 1st (the
day that D supposedly died) and the return address
said it was from F.

Inside the envelope was a letter from F and I will
quote it here (I feel no need to keep this
correspondence private in light of what has happened):

"E.:

So sorry we will miss you in Chicago--unfortunately we
are unable to travel.

Enclosed is package #1 (blah blah about the jewelry..)

We certainly hope that you and C. both enjoy
these. We are so sorry we will not see you in Chicago.

F.

I have never seen F.'s handwriting so I don't know
if he did or didn't write this note.

I go to a room where the Tonner Co. is having a
luncheon and I see N.S. I ask her "Have you
heard that one of our tablemates passed away this
Tuesday?" I can barely get the words out as I am
crying again.

Ms. N. says, "Yes, we heard. We got a call from his
partner, F., is it? that he was in the hospital and
would be unable to come to convention. And then we got
a call the following day that he had died."

I sat up at this news. From what I remembered W.
had told me, F. said that he came home on Tuesday
morning and found D. dead at home. So I was confused
about the hospital part.

Through my tears, I manage to ask "When did he call?"
Ms. N., being tired from all the preparations, says
"I've lost track of time. Today is Thursday and when
did he die?" I said "Tuesday." She said, "It must have
been Monday then when he first called and then Tuesday
was when he called again."

I asked her "What exactly did F. say?" She said
"F. said that D. was in the hospital and unable
to come so could we have the dolls sent to him anyway.
And we said sure."

Then Ms. N. asked me "IS F. a collector too?
Should we still send the dolls?" And I said, "I think
F. collects too so he would appreciate receiving the
dolls that D. had wanted."


I will be the first to admit that I did not think that
D's death was untrue. Like I told C., I am a
simpleton, especially when it is about friends. I take
most things at face value and I don't go beyond the
moment and think the what ifs and how comes.

But honestly, as I told G. in Chicago, I found it
very strange that F. left a message about D. being in
the hospital. I also was curious as to how, in all
this (alleged) confusion, F. managed to remember to
send C.'s jewelry to the hotel. But like I said,
I didn't think this could even begin to suggest that
this was all untrue.

Scan Activity Date/Time Comments
Delivered SCHAUMBURG IL 05/02/2001 08:14
Left FedEx Origin Location HOUSTON TX 05/01/2001 18:32

Picked up by FedEx HOUSTON TX 05/01/2001 17:46

If you look at the above, that is the tracking info on
the package that F. sent me at the hotel. I would
presume that the pickup time of Tuesday, 5/1 at 17:46
is local? Houston time. I don't remember exactly now
what time W. said that F. had called on Tuesday to
say that D. had died. **It is local time**

Ok, fast forward to Tuesday, 5/8.

Wayne calls me at about 8 pm? to tell me it is untrue.
In the middle of our conversation, I pick up F.'s call
(call waiting--C., you should have it--LOL).

F. says, E., it's F and he asks how I am. Then he
says "I have good news." (very calmly, like a call
from a doll dealer to say your doll is at the shop,
come pick it up and play)

I say something like "F., I know." And he says
"D. is alive."

At this point, I start crying again, and I feel
relieved, betrayed, fooled, and exhausted, all at the
same time.

F. says to me "I felt I had to call you personally to
tell you." And then I said, "Oh gosh, F., I got the
jewelry and I started crying all over again at the
hotel."

Then I managed to ask "What happened?" F. said
something like "I just brought D. home from the
hospital today." I asked F. how D. was and he said,
"he's fine, just sleepy."

I was crying so much, I don't even remember what I
said. I said, "Gosh, F., I even sent you flowers."
At this point, F, is also crying and he says, "Yes, I
got them." Then I told him that I had every intention
of flying to Houston this week to be with him, and F.
is now sobbing on the phone.

I don't remember what else we talked about, we hung up
shortly after that.

Academy Award performance by F.? I don't really
know.

One More Dip

W.'s version of events...

I Have to Move On...

If you look at the time of this post, you'll see it is
after 2am here. This is the 3rd night in a row that I
will get about 5 hours sleep and have to put in a full
day's work. I'm exhausted both emotionally and
physically.

First... M... I'm thinking of you and hope your
family situation gets better. I'm glad you "let it all
out" here on the BL.**Our first Yahoo! club** **M. revealed that she is
dealing with some terrible sickness in her own family.
She has been quiet through all of this.**

Second... I have been talking to many of you on the
phone each night. It's helped a lot and I thank you.
V., I just wish I could take my own advice. I'm
having a terrible time with this. I'm glad you talked
to a co-worker. I knew it would make the difference.

Third... I have been turning this over and over in my
head. I have a big decision to make here. I know D.
will eventually call me. I plan on asking him to
explain what happened but I doubt I'll get more than
"I don't remember." (Coma you know!!!). There is just
SO MUCH of these events that doesn't make sense. In
order, this is what happened to me.

1. Spoke to D. for last time, sometime Monday day.
(4/30)

2. Come home on Tuesday (5/1) to email from F. (and
I will quote the entire message) "D. is Dead. I
honestly don't know how to say it. I'm sure we'll
talk. F." This was received on my computer at 5:03
pm.

3. I call and call their house. At sometime around 8pm
my time, F. calls us. He is crying and says, D.
is dead. Too many sleeping pills. Makes reference to
the fact that D. was feeling like a "non-person." He
says NOTHING, absolutely NOTHING about a hospital or
coma. NOTHING!!! His conversation is very brief as he
is hysterical. (Good acting? and a "Hit and Run"
call).

4. 6, count 'em 6, days pass. On Monday, B. and I
have finished dinner. The phone rings. It is F. He
starts with "I'm so embarrased." I think for taking so
long to respond to my many messages. I reassure him,
it's okay. Just like EEEEE said, he says "No, I have
good news." (sort of like I just won a contest or
something). D. is alive. I am once again in shock.
I ask him what happened.... he says coma, hospital,
and now he's home. I had the presence of mind to ask
if he went to the hospital where F. works.... yes he
says. Again, tears and a short (hit and run)
conversation. I hang up in absolute shock.

Cut to yesterday. I did a bit of sleuthing and called
the hospital. There was no D.S. admitted or
discharged from that hospital. (DUH... like I didn't
already know that).

NONE of this makes sense to me, although I have a few
thoughts on maybe why. But I'd be typing all night if
I had to relay all that. I most certainly think it was
a hissy-fit. He never wanted to talk to us again....
he wasn't going to Chicago... told F. to say he was
dead, he didn't care. Later as the week went on, the
flowers arrived, he could hear us all calling the
house, he might have been reading here on Blanche's
name and saw all the things we said about him (doesn't
THAT just make your flesh crawl) and his St. John's
Wart kicked in and he realized perhaps he'd gone too
far. "F., help me clean this up... what can we do?"
Here's the hospital, coma story AFTER we're told he's
dead. They're hoping we're all gonna say "Oh D.,
thank God you're alive... what happened...???" Well
not me brother. This has been a terrible experience
for me (as all of you) and I plan on listening to his
explanation, then I plan on telling him how I feel in
no uncertain terms. Or maybe I'm giving him too much
credit here. Maybe he'll never call me. That would be
fine too because actually, as far as I'm concerned, he
IS dead. I just need to tell him how I feel, and end
our friendship. THAT'S the hard part for me. I want
answers, I want to be sure. And I know that will never
happen. I have important work to do... both at my
regular job and for AD. I have to move on with this. I
guess I'll just have to wait for that phone to ring.
And again, if it never does, amen to that too.

-W.-

**I lost an e-mail between this one and the next one, so I will need to fill in a bit of background information here. Two years ago, there was an episode that probably should have clued us all in.

Most of us had arrived into New Jersey for Convention early on Thursday (Activities begin Friday night.) to give us a chance to relax. D. & F. were no exception. We only saw D. that first night. And everything seemed to be going okay. Well, D. was not happy with his room (on the executive level nonetheless) and sometime in the middle of the night he and F. checked out and into a hotel down the street. And for the rest of the convention, D. was sick. F. attended all the events by himself. So basically since things did not go as he had wanted he had a big hissy fit.**

Disembarking the Ride

After D.'s stunt at the convention two years ago,
W. told him, if you do anything like that again, I
will never speak to you ever again.

W.'s not one to back down. Monday when we spoke he
asked me to shut down our Yahoo club. I agreed. It
remains up until Friday so people can vent and take
their pictures down. I also deleted the
"blanche_honey" ID.

We started a new club under a new name the same
day...invites went to all existing members *except*
D.. And we are still struggling to understand why
anyone would do this. I mean if he did this to his
friends, I fear for his enemies.

Tuesday an impromptu chat started, E. and I were
there, joined by almost everyone else. Some things
from the past way in the beginning came out...we all
used to post on the Ashton-Drake forum, and as the
group grew so did the arguments a huge flame war broke
out..with anonymous postings...D. was
involved...he eventually got his ISP# kicked off the
forum, a new private board was formed from
this...people he didn't like were there as well, so he
left...and that was when we formed our Yahoo club with
a few select people. A clique plain and simple...The
flame war was very nasty...a "manifesto" was
posted...I mean a really wacked manifesto...D. had
made a comment at the time to W. that you could go
to the public library and while the ISP could be
traced the individual using the computer could not.

As the conversation went on...we talked about the chat
we had had the week before when we were grieving,
Wayne had mentioned that yes, D. was avoiding
someone in chat. A tense silence followed. C.
asked if it was her. I IMed her privately that it
wasn't.

Monday, the subject came up again, I tried to move us
past it. G. kept pushing the issue, worried for
that person's personal, physical safety. R. asked if
I knew who it was, and I said yes. She said, "I am
sorry you are burdened with that." G. kept pushing
it. I was IMing E. privately asking her what I
should do, she knew it was G. as well. Finally I
said, "I'd be breaking a confidence if I told...its in
the past now, lets move on."

G. e-mailed W. the next day still worried about
the dangers...W. called her, basically told her to
calm down..and then told her the truth.

I think it was harder to call people the second time
around. V. was in a bad way, I could hear her
husband in the background. We got a frantic e-mail
from her on Tuesday asking us to all get together...I
asked W. to call her...he is moving on and putting
it behind him. They talked a long time. I think it
helped.

W. expects him to call one of these days and is
going to try for an explanation...he is sure he will
get "I don't remember."

Some other interesting facts.

W. called the hospital Tuesday on a lark, D.
was never checked in. He confirmed this with S.'s
husband who works at that hospital, which is also
where F. works.

R. had sent a check to pay for a doll about two
months ago. It was cashed that Monday.

Ahhhh so that is it...I think...I think this ride
should be called the whirlwind...

And to quote Paul Harvey..."That is the rest of the story.

It's strange and odd I know. And we will probably never know the whole story...and infact if I was reading something like this I couldn't believe it. It really is true that fact is stranger than fiction...

I just reread my last post and I sound like a little kid. Hee hee. Right now, I am in a great mood, I don't exactly know why.

It's a beautiful day and I am enjoying my day relaxing. Monday I am actually going to attempt to clean and organize my bedroom. I just have way too much stuff. I think Mom and I are going to see The Mummy Returns tomorrow. I am craving a Jamba Juice again. LOL.

The next Glimpse is up...


Fourth Glimpse; Contentment

The thing about these postings is that they're goal driven. They're meant to achieve a purpose. What that purpose is depends, I suppose, on the poster. Some people are looking for friends. Some are looking for a lover. Still others are looking to break up the day to day, hour to hour monotony by meeting someone new or even by getting something in their inbox. So I had a moment, the other day while going down an escalator at the Embarcadero Center, when I thought to myself, "what am I looking for?"

"Well," I thought, "I'm looking for a girl who's brilliant and confident and youthful and funny and .... " And then, at that moment, between "funny" and whatever was going to come up next, I realized that I was wrong. That isn't what I'm looking for. Not really. What I'm looking for is happiness. The big list of attributes that we all carry around like a template that we match up against the people that we meet is just a handful of qualities that we believe the person who can make us happy would have. So I thought about this thing, happiness. Here is what I think:

I think that, for the most part, happiness comes in two forms: contentment and joy. These are very different things. I'm looking for both.

I am looking for contentment. That day to day conglomeration of fulfillment, security, satisfaction and general sense of well being that lets a person wake up happy on a weekday.

Every now and again you can look at what makes a person content and, if you give it a moment's thought, get a picture in your mind of what's important to him, what he is seeking and what he is offering in return.

I find that I am content when I am alone with my thoughts, either on an open road, behind the wheel of my car, skiing down a side trail or here, at my computer in the middle of the night, playing with language.

I find that I am content when I am with my loved ones, whether it is at a restaurant or a pub with my friends, laughing and telling bad jokes, with family, eating and dancing and, if the evening goes well, singing old songs enthusiastically, if not always well, or with my father, my closest and oldest friend, talking about everything over glasses of scotch.

I find that I can be content with a good book or a good movie or even if a decent song is playing while I do something that doesn't require my full attention.

I know this: contentment as I have it now is transitory. Drives end, hills flatten out and dawn eventually arrives to bring even the longest nights to an end. On the most festive of evenings, someone finally says that it's time for them to go and friends and family start to make their way to their respective homes. I have a great deal of contentment in my life but I'm greedy. I believe that a partner, a constant friend, a bulwark against even life's most unsporting twists can be the bridge between all of the minor pleasures that we create for ourselves. I am looking or her.

Want to see the previous Glimpse? Go here:
http://www.craigslist.org/sfo/m4w/1062960.html

Want to See the next Glimpse? Go here:
http://www.craigslist.org/sfo/m4w/1063128.html

Other ways to contact poster:
With constancy.

Fifth Glimpse; The Possibility of Joy

There are fortunate people in the world. People that are often called "happy couples." They are at ease with each other; secure in the life that they have built. And then there are those very rare couples. The ones who, together, talk, move, laugh not like they are not just happy with their present, but as if their thoughts wander with anticipation over the horizon, to what may yet happen.

I am looking for joy. That state of pure, personal euphoria so beyond the scope of the typical condition as to temporarily remove one totally from the constraints which we create for ourselves. A sudden, unexpected internal cancellation of gravity.

Every now and again you can look at where a person finds joy and, if you give it a moment's thought, get a picture in your mind of what he sounded like when he first discovered everything, of his range today and of what he is still capable of learning.

There was a June day, many years ago, when I, as a pudgy, bespectacled little boy, was fishing with a skinny, blue eyed little boy who is now a pudgy stockbroker in the Big Apple. Somehow, as I was casting and he was reeling in, our fishing lines became inextricably tangled and, in trying to undo what was, to twelve year old boys, surely our own Gordion knot, our hooks flailed about until they finally became well and truly stuck in our clothes. Thinking back, I don't understand quite what brought it on, but suddenly he and I went from trying to untangle our lines and ourselves to laughing uncontrollably. Whatever else was true, we were in perfect agreement that the situation was quite possibly the funniest in all of recorded history. I don't remember it for what happened, precisely. I've managed to tangle a few lines and snag a few hooks in the years since without once collapsing into paroxysms of laughter as a result. I remember it for the feeling of complete, unadulterated, unexpected glee that overtook us like a wave and grew quickly and uncontrollably; snowballing like a cartoon boulder hurtling down the steep side of a snow mantled mountain. That was joy.

There was a late October night, nearly fifteen years ago, when I, as a teenager, was sitting on the living room floor, not two feet from the television screen. My team, down to its last strike and trailing by two, was about to lose the World Series. In fact, the scoreboard at Shea Stadium had already flashed “Congratulations Boston Red Sox, 1986 World Champions.” You, gentle reader, probably don’t care that the Mets made what may have been the most unlikely and most dramatic big game comeback in baseball history that night. You may not be a sports fan (or you may be a distant relative of one Mr. Buckner), so I’ll spare you the details (I only recite sports trivia or sing show tunes in self defense or if severely provoked). Suffice it to say that, when Ray Knight pranced (yes, pranced) across home plate with the winning run, I didn’t know what to do with myself. I had to tell someone what happened and my parents didn’t understand baseball at all. So I looked out our six story window and, seeing the fireworks erupting above Shea a few miles off, thought it the most natural thing in the world to open the window and just shout the news until my throat burned. Then, when I stopped to take a breath, I heard all of the other people, shouting from all of the other open windows, in a strange, but somehow perfectly natural concordance (which, in hindsight, must have seemed just plain bizarre to people who were unaware of what was going on). When I finally managed to fall asleep on that Saturday night, it was with a smile on my face. That was joy.

There was a June night, not all that long ago, when I, as a grown man, was standing by the bar in a small, dark second floor dance club on the hottest night of the year. Salsa music was blaring and couples, who clearly knew what they were doing, were spinning like mad, stylishly dressed tops across the dance floor. Standing there, sweltering in air that seemed made of syrup in the suit that I hadn’t had a chance to change out of, I wondered how it was that these people could ignore the heat the way that they apparently did. I watched the dancers for a few minutes while finishing my drink and talking to the girl standing at the bar next to me. We were just getting to know each other, she and I. I thought that there were supposed to be salsa lessons that night. Dinner and two dance novices trying to learn how to salsa without hurting each other seemed like a good idea for a first date. This, though, was something altogether different. This was an opportunity to look severely foolish, even if no one got seriously hurt. And yet, somehow, a long history of school dances spent stuck to the walls of gymnasiums as if I had suction cups attached to my back didn’t stop me from taking the girl’s hand and asking her if she wanted to dance. She asked me if I knew how and I laughed and said, “I’ve been watching ... how hard can it be?” And, for a wonder, it wasn’t hard at all. We moved together like a couple that had been dancing for a lifetime. Unbelievably, two people who didn’t know what they were doing knew exactly what their partner was doing. There was no heat. The air was fresh. The other couples vanished. There was just us. Twirling. Discovering one another. That was joy.

I know this: Joy becomes rarer as we get older. Less things surprise us and, maybe more importantly, we learn that the greatest highs are often followed by corresponding lows and it is our nature to defend ourselves by holding tightly to our safer, middle ground. I also know that joy cannot be a regular occurrence precisely because it is, by its nature, a sharp departure from the norm. I know all this and don’t seek constant joy. I seek its constant potential. I search for a partner with whom childish laughter can be more than a memory; alongside whom to fight battles and ultimately celebrate victories; with whom that rare feeling of perfect rhythm, on every level, is always a possibility.

Want to see the previous Glimpse? Go here:
http://www.craigslist.org/sfo/m4w/1063051.html

Want to see the First Glimpse? Go here:
http://www.craigslist.org/sfo/m4w/1062834.html

Want to contact the writer? Well? What's stopping you?

Other ways to contact poster:
With laughter.

My friend M. sent me a card with my horoscope inside...

Taurus
April 20 - May 20
Symbol: The Bull
Ruling Planet: Venus
Element: Earth
Quality: Fixed

Taurus: Though quiet and unassuming, Taurus longs to dig into life -- and what better time for self-indulgence (minus the guilt) than a birthday! The sensual-to-the max Bull enjoys decadent parties catered with tons of rich, flavorful food, fun music and other physical delights. Make sure to come to the affectionate Bull's birthday party with your arms both full of gifts and ready to give a tender hug.
(by Kelli Fox, Astrology.com)

And then this in my e-mail box:

Today in History/Happy Birthday

*** By The Associated Press

- Today is Thursday, May 17, the 137th day of 2001. There are 228
days left in the year.

- On May 17, 1792: The New York Stock Exchange was founded by brokers
meeting under a tree located on what is now Wall Street.

- In 1875: The first Kentucky Derby was held. The winner was
Aristides.
- In 1938: Congress passed the Vinson Naval Act, providing for a
two-ocean navy.
- In 1939: Britain's King George VI and Queen Elizabeth arrived in
Quebec on the first visit to Canada by reigning British sovereigns.
- In 1940: The Nazis occupied Brussels, Belgium, during World War II.
- In 1946: President Harry Truman seized control of the nation's
railroads, delaying a threatened strike by engineers and trainmen.
- In 1948: The Soviet Union recognized the new state of Israel.
- In 1954: The Supreme Court ruled in its Brown vs. Board of
Education of Topeka decision that racially segregated public
schools were inherently unequal.
- In 1973: The Senate opened its hearings into the Watergate scandal.
- In 1980: Rioting claimed 18 lives in Miami's Liberty City after an
all-white jury in Tampa acquitted four former Miami police officers
of fatally beating black insurance executive Arthur McDuffie.
- In 1987: 37 American sailors were killed when an Iraqi warplane
attacked the U.S. Navy frigate Stark in the Persian Gulf. (Iraq and
the United States said the attack was made in mistake.)
- In 1990: Soviet President Mikhail Gorbachev met in Moscow with
Lithuanian Prime Minister Kazimiera Prunskiene, Gorbachev's first
face-to-face meeting with a senior official of the Baltics.
- In 1995: The Senate ethics committee concluded that Sen. Bob
Packwood (R-Ore.) had to face a full-scale Senate investigation of
charges that included making improper advances toward women.
- In 1999: Labor Party leader Ehud Barak unseated Prime Minister
Benjamin Netanyahu in Israeli elections.


*Happy Birthday*
----------------
- Opera singer Birgit Nilsson is 83.
- Actor-director Dennis Hopper is 65.
- R&B singer Pervis Jackson (Spinners) is 63.
- Singer Taj Mahal is 59.
- Singer-songwriter Jesse Winchester is 57.
- Actress Debra Winger is 46.
- Actor Bill Paxton is 46.
- Boxing Hall-of-Famer Sugar Ray Leonard is 45.
- Actor-comedian Bob Saget is 45.
- Singer Enya is 40.
- Singer-musician Trent Reznor (Nine Inch Nails) is 36.
- R&B musician O'Dell (Mint Condition) is 36.
- Singer Jordan Knight (New Kids on the Block) is 31.
- R&B singer Darnell Van Rensalier (Shai) is 31.
- R&B singer Kandi Burruss (Xscape) is 25.
- Actor Tahj Mowry is 14.

I don't feel any older. I did go blonder yesterday. And had a manicure and a pedicure...Aqua Blast by Revlon. Think Sharks teal...

Happy Birthday to Me!!!

Ahhh my computer seems to be acting "wonky." That of course is a scientific term. It just crashed. Yahoo! has been acting wonky alot lately and it is really beginning to bug me. I am glad that Blogger seems to be acting normal again.

I did do a post the other day and it seems to have been lost out in the great unknown.

Otherwise, one more day until I am free from work for a week. YAY!! And two days until my birthday.

I got written up yesterday for being late. Apparently they cleared all the records starting on May 1st, and I was late 8 minutes on the 1st, 13 minutes on the 3rd, and 7 minutes on the 7th. My manager asked if I had anything to say, and I told him, "I leave at the same time everyday, and I drive the same distance. It's not my fault that traffic is more congested one day over another." We have a new operations manager and she is a bitch. While I respect the fact that she is following policies and procedures, its unrealistic to follow them to that extreme. And alot of times, I am actually early, but I have to wait for someone to unlock the door, and because my terminal where I clock in and out is at the farthest point from the break room where I keep my purse, and they want you to put your stuff away before you clock in...that usually adds on at least a minute...*sigh* It's not fair.

On a positive note, before L. left to go back to the other store, she told the manager that I would be good for the Visual Merchanding position, so yesterday was my first day in that position. Not that my job has changed much, but it will look good on the resume. And while L. and I did not always see eye to eye on things, (I did not like her management style at all.) she is a nice person, and out of work, we actually have a lot in common. I will actually miss her.

Okay, time to get ready for work...

Mmmmmmmmmmm Jamba Juice!

I just had to have a Peach Passion today...mmmmmmmmmmm

Grrrrr Damn Blogger...oh well, there is not much I can do about it.

Happy Mother's Day!

British Author Douglas Adams Dies Now Iam a bit sad. :o( And damn I have to go to work.

I've been reading the personals again at craigslist.org. Trying to distract my mind from events of the last two weeks.

I have been on a journey...A Glimpse


Tue May 8th

Every now and again you can look at a person and, if you give it a moment's thought, get a picture in your mind of what they'll be like in twenty or thirty years. You can see in your mind's eye how their laugh lines might deepen and extend, how their hands or posture or voice might change. Sometimes you can even make a good guess at whether they'll be happy or crotchety or lighthearted or moody or ambitious or resigned or any number of other broad character traits that develop slowly in a person until they are as much a part of that person and as deeply ingrained as their bones.

Every now and again you can look at a person and get a picture in your mind of what they were like twenty or thirty years ago. You can see in your mind's eye the daily joy that must have been responsible for carving the laugh lines that point like arrows at eyes that continue to sparkle, or the daily loneliness that left smooth features and a dulled gaze in its wake. You can imagine what kind of life caused callused palms or fat, soft hands. A moment's thought is all it takes to understand what might have caused a shuffling gate and a bent spine or added timber to a voice that makes it fill a room.

When I look in the mirror now, at thirty, I can see how I got here. I understand the mixed history of my hands and know that my eyes still sparkle, even though the laugh lines which will make their mark one day haven't begun to appear in earnest. I know what I did to earn the silver in my hair and why I can make my voice heard to the near deaf old lady at the back of the room where once it was barely a squeak.

I know who I want to see years from now. He was slippery for a time, but I have him now, after all of these years. The man who is a subtle variation of the man I saw this morning. He is more settled, yet more adventurous. Less anxious, yet with more responsibility. Broader in his horizons and yet more focused. He has learned to enjoy mornings. He is not much different, but the differences are important.

I understand this: I will not coax that man into my mirror on my own. What I can do is there now. I want for a partner. A comrade, a lover, a steadying influence who will disturb my foundation; a friend that I can learn from and teach, who will listen to my plans and stories, both real and dreamed and who will share her stories and dreams with me. A confidant and a co-conspirator who will plot adventures and strive to not waste a day or an hour. I want for a brilliant mind and a ready smile, an artistic savant with an abundance of courage and generosity for friends and strangers. I want for a woman who, in looking in her mirror this morning, saw a woman that she likes and admires and trusts but who is capable of more. I want for an accomplice in all things who has flourished to this point and will now flourish with me.

Another Glimpse, on a Lighter Note
Sun May 6th

I looked in the mirror this morning and forced my eyes to open in spite of the white glare of the too-bright light above the mirror. Things slowly began to focus my brain shifted into gear. Thoughts, first thing in the morning, can something less than organized. This morning, these came to mind:

Good God man, no one should have to look at you first thing in the morning. I've looked at you first thing in the morning for almost thirty years and I think that your ugly mug will be the root of therapy in my future. I posted a personal last night, didn't I ... I wonder if anyone responded. Maybe it was too serious. Note to self: If you find her, be especially nice to the woman that has to look at you before either of you has had a cup of coffee; she'll have earned it. Second note to self: consider looking for a really nearsighted woman.

Then, a second or a minute later, but sometime between brushing teeth and finding socks that match, I remembered yesterday's mail. I needed to RSVP to Gary and Nancy. Oh, they know that I'll be flying in for the wedding, but it's their stamp and, knowing them, they will save my reply. Gary has known that I'd be at his wedding, if he ever had one, for at least fifteen years. He and I both knew this shortly after we met in ninth grade biology, as surely as we knew that the sun would rise or the Red Sox would blow it or that the subway that we took to school every morning would be delayed at least a couple of times during midterms. Some things have an inevitability about them. So, come June, I will be wearing a tuxedo that Nancy picked out and, between the salad and the main course, I will get up and toast my friend and his new bride, much the same way that Gary and I have exchanged toasts since before it was legal for us to do so. It's a tradition between us. When we're together, we don't take our first drink
without saying a word or two. Gary knows that it may be his turn one day.

And then, while trying to figure out if this tie can possibly go with that shirt, it occurs to me. Gary is a glimpse at me, and vice versa. When he and I are together, we rattle off our stories like they were adventures on the high seas. And to us, they were. Running out of gas in the middle of the night in Connecticut, only to discover later that we were within trip and fall distance of a gas station. Getting caught in a blizzard in the mountains of West Virginia. Spending nights in a twenty four hour pool hall in the Village, just catching up, or running with our backpacks through Genoa, like crazed hunchbacks, trying to make it on to a train to Monte Carlo. I pull on my socks and think about Gary. And Robert and Jeff and Janine and Liz and Lauren and Ivan and others, without whom I would not have witnesses. Without whom Imight not have the stories that I have, and that I will have.

Every now and again you can look at a person's friends and, if you give it a moment's thought, get a picture in your mind about where they've been and who they must be, to be among these people. There is little about a person that is less a matter of happenstance than the people who decide to take that person into their lives. So I consider my friends and, when I get over the moment and a half of narcissistic pride, I wonder a little, and count myself fortunate.

I understood this, as I walked to work: the woman that I am looking for has stories and tells them freely. She has friends that she loves and is proud of. The woman who would put up with my first-thing-in-the-morning stubble and hair that looks like electroshock therapy by Vidal Sassoon already has people who love her and who know that they can rely on her no matter what. She needs no lessons in friendship. She is like me, looking for a constant partner to write new stories with. She already knows the how of it.

Third Glimpse; Specificity
Tue May 8th

A thought has been bothering me.

There are two times during each weekday when I get to just think. First thing in the morning, I stand in the shower with the hot water flowing down my back, knowing that I'm late. It doesn't matter because I need those few minutes to reason out how it came to pass that Pauly Shore is not employed gluing little reflectors onto the middle of highway 281 somewhere between Topeka and Junction City or why you never hear about gruntled employees or why, in the entire English language, there is not a single good female equivalent for the word "guy." In the evenings, I walk home and decompress, using the rhythm of walking to help me think about most anything other than work.

Today, walking home, I was thought about my Glimpses, which were bothering me a little, like an itch at the back of my brain. Then I saw it. The problem, right there in what I called them. Glimpses.

There are two ways in which people describe themselves. By telling or by showing. In the world outside of personals, job interviews and other contrived settings, we learn a little about the people in our lives by what they tell us and everything else by what they show us. We all know people who are honest or generous or sensual or funny. We know these things about them not because they told us that they are any of these things but because we see how they act and react in different situations and with different people.

It was when I understood this, as I finished my walk, that I saw a flaw in my Glimpses. I tried to show and, for the most part, eschewed telling. Interesting, maybe, but not especially helpful to someone who wants to know what they're getting themselves into. Not especially fair, if I want telling in return. This is my compromise.

Every now and again you can look at where a person has spent his life, and, if you give it a moment's thought, get a picture in your mind about how those places, or the transitions between them, might have molded him. In three decades I have had five homes, of a sort.

The first of these is far away from where I am now, in every way, but closer than it used to be. It gave me my first language and marked my English with an accent, or at least a certain cultural intonation. A dozen years ago, I went back for the first time since we'd left for what we thought was surely forever. I discovered roots that I didn't realize I missed and a family that knew me, both of which are a part of me now.

My second home is the place that still feels like home to me. Gotham is my metronome, still setting the rhythm by which I walk, think and feel, no matter where I am. It's where I learned to climb fences and shoot pool. I learned to fight in New York and, before I left, I learned how not to fight. It's the only place that I miss.

I lived on the fringes of Dixie for a time and had the best low paying job on earth, even if I didn't really know it at the time. I learned two lessons. I discovered and understood what it was to truly be an outsider and then, eventually, found the ways to make that place and, by extension, any place my own. Some time during my years in that town I became a man or, at least, stopped being a boy. Falling in love, that first time, was a shove in the right direction.

When I talk about my time in an industrial city in the midwest, I sometimes joke that I must have committed a truly heinous sin in a past life to have wound up there. It's not fair of me, really, because outside of the occasionally brutal weather, it wasn't a bad place. Well, objectively it wasn't a bad place. This was the place that burned my shyness out of me. I understood, finally, that real loneliness could be far, far worse than even the most brutal rejections concocted by that part of our brains that seeks to shield the ego by frightening us into inaction. No one who meets me today believes me when I tell them that I used to be shy. They think that I'm joking and, in a way, I am.

I spent three years within a few blocks of the White House, learning my trade, and, in spite of the fact that neither Bill nor Hillary ever invited me over to play bridge or discuss what "is" means, I had a great time. Between discovering Ethiopian food and meeting the friend whose future son would be my future godson, I learned to relax. This is where I was when I finally settled into my skin, becoming a very close approximation of the man that I willalways be.

And now I am here, the downtown skyline over my right shoulder. This is where I have found my family again. The two who were with me, that day in December when the plane took us to Vienna, on the first leg of our journey west, and the rest, who have followed since. This is where I have realized some professional success and learned to match my shirts and ties (even though some who know me would laugh and say that I'm still learning). I am making my stand. A man
needs to plant his flag somewhere, and this seems a good place. I feelthat there is real happiness to be found here. This is me telling and me searching.

A Challenge
Tue May 8th

I come online tonight to cast
this gauntlet on the earth,
to be picked up by one brave lass
and grant the rest some mirth.

I seek a maid of flair unmatched,
and so I thus propose,
If such a one be unattached,
she'll answer verse with prose.

The words will prove her razor mind,
the sentiments her passion,
and she'll even expressions find
to showcase her compassion.

If dreams be met my lady'll boast
sharp style for the occasion,
and won't be shy to speak a toast
without undue persuasion.

She'll have an easy reparté
with queens o'er tea and torts
and laugh at ribald tales that may
be told by sailors in ports.

And for her words the writer'll find
A partner, lover, friend;
A man who'll open soul and mind
and with her his days spend.

She'll find a man with yarns to tell
and will to pen new tales;
who's thirty years have been spent well;
who's friendship never fails.

She'll get a chap with shoulders broad
and great white collar career,
who's cooking skills she will applaud,
her sentiments sincere.

We'll teach each other all we know
and learn anew together;
allow our wildest dreams to flow,
break free of tedium's tether.

So if you've nerve and grace and wit,
take up this this dare of mine;
for if it turns out we're a fit,
our fates we may entwine.

I am still not ready to write about what happened, not to mention I would be here all night doing so. Actually I have been here all night it seems anyway..so another few hours wouldn't matter. LOL....but I will let it wait till the weekend, so that it all sinks in.

But I have calmed my anger down...infact what I feel is a bit of pity for D. and F. If they could put their friends through this hell, I fear for their enemies. I am glad he is not dead, but I hope he gets some help soon.

Sending another huge *glitterhug* to L. for being such a sweetie. Thanks Hun!! And another round of hugs to all those who rode this wild ride with me.

I am still not ready to write about what happened, not to mention I would be here all night doing so. Actually I have been here all night it seems anyway..so another few hours wouldn't matter. LOL....but I will let it wait till the weekend, so that it all sinks in.

But I have calmed my anger down...infact what I feel is a bit of pity for D. and F. If they could put their friends through this hell, I fear for their enemies. I am glad he is not dead, but I hope he gets some help soon.

Sending another huge *glitterhug* to L. for being such a sweetie. Thanks Hun!! And another round of hugs to all those who rode this wild ride with me.

HE'S FUCKING ALIVE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I am too angry right now to even try to explain.

Damn its hot...stuffy actually since I am stubborn and won't open a window or leave my door open...

A shower sounds really good right about now.

I made egg salad tonight. I had been craving it. I love it on toasted english muffins. I usually add sliced olives and chopped sweet pickles and use Kraft Miracle Whip. I love that extra little zing it has.

Zing. Remember Zingers? They were kinda like twinkies but chocolate with frosting on them. Peppermint Patty of Peanuts fame was the "spokesperson." That seems so long ago, Zingers. And I remember being able to get soda in cans half the size. Shopping at Albertson's with my Dad on Saturday mornings, that was always something I wanted him to get.

I watched Charade today. Was flipping channels, got sucked in by Cary Grant then before I know it I was swept into the story. Audry Hepburn, gorgeous as usual.

*sigh* I still don't know anything new about D.

My gut says he took his own life which is just STUPID. And selfish. And a whole slew of other things I cannot even begin to write about. Talking to W. today and certain things we shared with each other confirm this. Of course we don't know yet either which makes it hard.

I was talking to K. today on the phone and my Mom called on the cell, asking if she had gotten an envelope I told her she did, and she asked me to open it and see what it said. I told her I was on the phone with K. and she got all mad and hung up on me. About ten minutes later she called back (again on the cell), K. and I were trying to understand about D. She was absolutely livid and told me "to never ever put her on hold again when she called." When I tried to explain to her again that we were trying to understand about D. she hung up on me. So by then I was really upset...and I had been able to hold the tears in check that entire time until I got back on the phone with K. And I told her what she said. K. trying to calm me down, telling me not to let that upset me when there were bigger things to be upset about. But I couldn't help it, once it starts it starts. So I got off the phone with her, and called her back to tell her what was in that freakin envelope. She picked up I told her, she yelled at me again about putting her on hold...which I really didn't do, I just said, "I can't really talk right now, I am on the phone with K." And then she hung up on me again!!! So I called right back and between sobs I asked her, "Why are you being like this?" And she went into the whole hold thing again. And I told her crying again I was just trying to understand D.'s death and that everything was looking more and more like he did take his own life. I did get an apology from her...sometimes I just don't know...*sigh*

I think its all setting in now, the reality of it all.

Thanks to babyblade for the great link to: A view of the Moon. A program By Lorenzo Pasqualis. I found out I was born under a full moon. Hmmm what does that exactly mean? Hmmmm...

I am still in a bit of shock but, belief is setting in. I think its a bit easier since even though D. and I would talk at least weekly, he and F. lived in Texas, and me, here in California. I just wish I could see F. and give him a big hug. He needs one right now. And then I wish I could fly to Florida and give W. one too.

Wow. I am in shock. I got a phone call today from W. Unusual since it was on my cell phone and W. lives on the east coast and I live on the west...he sounded like something was wrong. He asked me to call him back when I got home. I called him, he still sounded upset. And he told me, "I don't know how else to tell you, but D. died." "What?!?!" So then the shock sets in. He got an e-mail from F., D.'s partner and all it said was "D. is dead." So of course W. called, and finally got through to a very shaken up F. And it was true. Our D. is dead. I don't really know what to think...the few details I got from W. told me that sleeping pills were involved. Whether by accident or deliberately...he took them. We always used to think of D. as a bit of a diva. He would have his temper tantrums...but would always come back around. Him and F. were getting ready to head to Chicago for the Robert Tonner convention...so in looking at everything, this seems the least likely of things to have happened. But then who really knew him? W. said he knew him, but didn't...it's all just shocking...we are all numb right now.

We all met through a doll named Gene back in late 1996. Thursday nights we would have our internet chat, which usually degenerated into siliness...then in October of 1997, we all attended our first Gene convention. And W., D., and I just bonded on the spot. And we attended every convention since then, every year, continued our Thursday night chats, added new friends, created our own "club" on Yahoo! I don't think I would have been that "into" Gene now had it not been for the great people I met that first year. There is something to be said for a cameraderie for fellow doll collectors. It's hard to explain. It's the hobby and more. My most prized dolls in my collections are wearing outfits and accessories created by these two men. I have a pic of me and D. taken at that first convention. There was a Halloween Party. I went as a Renaissance serving wench, D., as a Russian. The pic was taken later that night, after we had all settled into D. and F.'s room for the late night party. D. is wearing my hat. I'll have to find that picture and frame it I think. Those parties became a tradition at every convention -- to see when hotel security would break it up...it never failed it happened every year.

I still don't know what to think. I am still in shock...it's all very surreal...