Turns out there is no lighter note to this one. Suck.

...so I rather wish I could undo that last post. I COULD delete it...but then, others have read it, and it wouldn't really be authentic to the reality of my life experience. I mean, it's not like I can just delete memories or that date. Although I'd rather like to.

I did go on a date with her. Well, not even a date. An impromptu, rip it off like a bandaid meeting at Sharies. And it went...awry. Not like I puked on her or she was some kind of psycho. She's nice enough. But it turns out I'm an awkward, strange girl and that got really magnified when I met her. I think she brings out the awkward and strange in me. And although that works with some of my friends (god knows why) I don't think she liked the awkward and strange me. So it was just...like that. Those two adjectives. And also painfully so. It was pretty clear within a few minutes of meeting her that that was how it was gonna be. She kind of made me feel like a platypus...you know how the first biologists who ever saw it would have thought. Why is she like this? You can't really be like this? Not that she said these things but I got that feeling.

So yes. I've moved on...more or less. It dented my self-esteem, yeah. Not too bad. If a beautiful woman asked me to go have some coffee I wouldn't turn her down but I would sure be shaking in my boots. I really would like to meet someone who peaks my interest that much...but who can handle me. I know I'm kind of a special kind of person, and it takes a special kind of person to appreciate me, that's all.

I've been thinking about my taste in movies. I'm not super well read, and I'm missing many of the classics from my movie repetoire, but I've started to notice that my taste doesn't really run mainstream. Who's surprised there. Movies I truely love and are under appreciated: Perfume, Quills, Grave of the Fireflies, Hedwig and the Angry Inch (obviously a genre unto itself, and not underappreciated in a cult sort of way, just in a mainstream sort of way), Hard Candy (properly acclaimed by Sundance, but shunned by the public because of it's gritty subject matter. Boo on you public), and lastly and hesitantly added, Brazil. Brazil is a very special addition because it's known pretty widely in film circles (so I've heard, being as I don't belong to any elite, film-loving crust of society) as one of the best movies made. Ever. But included, none the less, because no one other than snobs has even heard of it so far as I can tell. Now the common thread present in all these films is that they make you think...and probably also make your insides want to turn inside out with how bad you feel near the end. I don't know what it says about me that I love movies that make me feel so much pain for the characters. The characters in all of these are painfully real, conflicted, and (in all but Grave of the Fireflies) probably more than a little bit insane. Obviously I like and relate to crazy people, I've known that for some time. But these movies are...well, dark. My love of these movies has forced me to recognize that there is a part of me that is profoundly dark and morbid, and that I'm alright with it being there.

I'd also like to say that if I'd seen more work that Joaquin Phoenix acted in (which now I feel compelled to do!) there'd me more movies on this list that includes him, because he's BRILLIANT in Quills. I kind of fell in love with him, and me being gay, that's a feat. Just to say but it doesn't hurt that he's in love with Kate Winslet in that movie either, and that because of him I got to see some boobies. Thanks, Joaquin, for being a sport. But truely, his acting was pretty damn masterful and caught a kind of James Dean edge to his angst without being cloying or forced. Anything but. He has a very mobile face, his expression reads very clearly, his eyes too are amazingly expressive. I was watching, and thinking that if I were able to remake Twilight and cast my own people (with a more careful script too) he would make a ridiculously awesome Edward...except for him being a few years too old for the role - but in this scenario I have a time machine also and can force him to take the role when he himself is in his late teens. Yes.

About Twilight - I really honestly didn't mean to fall so hard for the books. I'm not fifteen anymore. I can recognize emotional manipulation, an author feeding off the ridculous romantic roleplaying that most teens happily engage in, lacking of course in actual intellegent, compassionate partners. But lets face it - my own relationship experiences have been painful at best. The greatest loves I've endured have been not only without reciprocation but mostly without expression. That kind of pathetic pining is a chief component of these books. No really. I don't mean to get down on myself about that or anything, I'm sure I'll meet the right girl someday and I'll be able to burn the Twilight books in a great big bonfire. That'd be ok. But what's a fandom without fangirls drooling over what's-his-face? I'm not, understandibly, drooling over any guy, but I do kind of drool over the idea of being so ridiculously in love with someone and have that sparkly sort of relationship. And come on, vampires. I love vampires. It's all Buffy's fault, then Anne Rice a close second. I know it's juvenile of me to obsess like I've been, but anytime I'm reminded in some way of how those books make me feel, I just want to go reread and be immersed in their sparkly, sparkly love all over again. Like when I first read Mercedes Lackey's series: Magic's Pawn, Magic's Promise, Magic's Price. It's the tragedy and inevitability of forbidden love. And then they all die (they always do! In all my favorite movies and books and everything!). It makes my heart feel like it's going to explode and implode at the same time. I'm such a sucker.

So there's all that. I never really come to conclusions about myself...what I am, who I am. I just am, as far as I can tell. I don't get this "figuring out who you are" business that so many people seem to indulge in. "Self" seems like a fluid, ever evolving thing to me...well, there are bits that seem pretty constant, but the majority that makes up my "self" seems to be just whims and experiences and current obsessions. I don't dare pin down parts and say "that's it! That's me!" because next week that probably won't be quite so true. And that's alright with me. The essential bits are obvious enough to me, and I'm still pretty often surprised by what I end up liking and disliking. I never thought I'd like that photo job and holy shit I sure do. A lot. Like I could probably do it for quite a few years and not get sick of it and it'd still rock my world. It's not even art and I like it. That's neat.

Other than the above thoughts that have been cycling through my head, I've bought NEARLY all my Christmas presents. Stinna still doesn't have one. Mara doesn't have a b-day gift yet. But every major holiday and b-day up and coming in my life is covered. I feel great about that...I wrapped a bunch today and I am just about the best damn present wrapper on that planet. I felt like taking pictures I was so proud of them. Seems a shame it's just paper that will probably be ripped apart without much thought, but that's the whole reason it's got to be done with care...just like gift giving...you don't do it to bring attention to yourself, you to it so they can enjoy it. And if enjoy means destroying what you worked to make, that's what it takes then and you don't feel sad about it a bit. :)

Starting to feel more like Christmas. Not working at Santa's helps. Of course, Christmas makes me feel the most lonely out of all the year (other than my birthday, that can feel pretty fucking lonely too without a pile of friends to make it better). Everyone has someone for Christmas, it seems especially this Christmas. Both my sisters have their life-partners (phrased that way because Miesha and Chris aren't married...yet). Dom's got Kelsie. Dani and Stinna and Teresa all have met the loves of their respective lives. Other than Bre I'm my only single friend, and she's way the fuck out in nowhere's-ville,and consummately a bad match for me (learned, of course, from experience). All I'm saying is, I'll probably be fighting off a bad case of jealous, bitter, miserable single-girl for the next month or so. I've already started feeling it. I don't know what to do to fend it off...I just try to ignore it, just recognize it's there and refuse to let it ruin my life. Yeah, woe is me right? lolz. I don't even know if I WANT to date right now...mostly I don't believe I'll meet someone who really gets me and figures I'm a risk worth taking. This is gonna sound really pathetic, but I don't have much of a faith in anything right now, least of all my ability to attract good and/or good for me people into my life.

Ok, that was kind of a pity-fest. It's late, and I'm all hormoney, and I have an art piece stuck in me that's making me pretty irritable, so I'm not at all concerned that I'll feel this sorry for myself in the morning after some good sleep. But for the moment, I'm glad I'm exhausted, cause thinking about myself is goddamn depressing.

- me

ok so...

I met a girl online today.

I know that online dating is lame. I know it on a level, just like I know that star trek is lame and anime has a great potential to be or to make one lame. But I also feel that the internet can have one of two effects on a person...it either makes you ridiculously, confession-style honest, or you lie a lot because you can. Because this is me, I do the honest thing. I'm like that in real life too, but online I'm even worse. So I end up (maybe that's past tense! Ohhh that'd be nice!) hoping I'll attract a like minded, honest person. Someone who doesn't see the point in lying when there's such a huge gap in space, sometimes in time, between this computer and the one under the hands of whoever's on the other line.

And so I got this message today, and it was intruiging. It was very polite, but genuinely interested, and she sounded...like if I totally ignored her she was prepared for that and that'd be ok, but she would much prefer I contact her. So I went to her page and omg. I could not build a person I would be more interested in I think. That sounds ridiculous but it's true. And it doesn't hurt that she's REALLY beautiful, I mean truly and way out of my league. Like if Angeline Jolie didn't look so plastic and had some of her genes mixed with that beautiful black woman on Fringe and a bit of the actress from resident evil. I was so completely sold on her from reading her bio and all her answers to the standard "getting to know you" questions on there, but then I saw her pictures and felt this cold pit of dread well up in me because she is SO pretty. I had to go back and reread her message where she said she thought I was interesting. It didn't seem possible. I hope my one picture of myself on the site didn't mislead her. And then I noticed she was online! So I messaged her, because I decided what the hell, better attempted than not.

We spent like...3 hours talking online. It was mostly my fault...I appologized for drilling her but she really didn't seem to mind my curiosity and interest. She gave me her number. I'm thinking this thing that just started today could be a really good thing. I'm hoping it's true.

See, I've been reading the Twilight books. They're bad. I mean, they're fantastic because they make my heart beat like a drum and I cry and I hug the book and laugh at it and love the characters. They're bad in that when I finish them, any of them, I can't get out of that romantic funk. The one where I remember that I'm single and have no one to cuddle or tease or kiss. And then I get kind of mopey for a while until I snap out of it. So when this girl messaged me, I wasn't sure I'd be able to handle it if she ended up just blowing me off halfway through the conversation...because from the little I know of her so far, I do really like her, and I didn't want to project all my desire for a big sappy romance onto her unnecessarily. I still don't. Way too early for that. WAY. I know that. But part of me really can't help hoping I get the chance.

So, thank you okcupid! You're not worthless afterall! I've met people through okcupid before, but I've never been quite so...well, I've said all that already. But I'm excited! Like really hopeful and a bit wary but pretty damn excited!

I hate to psych myself out. I would hate to invest too much emotional energy into this and just have it deflate suddenly in front of my eyes. But I'm a wildly emotional person, it's true. And my emotions are all hoping and dreaming and going in girly, gooey little love-struck circles. And that's just fine.

I get this nervous flutter in my chest at the thought of hearing her voice. I wonder what it'll sound like. And if I'll be disappointing in person. My self-esteem in my own appearance is pretty crap these days, but knowing that I AM losing weight and having my new haircut helps. But still, I know I'm not as pretty as I could be and that bothers me. It would really hurt for us to meet and for her to be not attracted to me at all. That would so suck. I know I'm not without my charms though, so if my appearance doesn't impress I'll be damned if I let her walk away without putting in a good effort of winning her over.

This reminds me of when I first met Liz...how I was full of questions for her, baffled by her apparent interest in me, suprised by the feeling that we'd always known eachother and that I could just relax and be my weird, ridiculous self. It's just like that in some ways, but also I feel like I'll get to dig some of her out of herself and that will be fun. I'm currently resisting going back and looking at her profile again. I will not be weird and creepy and stalkerish to this girl that I really don't know at all. I won't. I'm going to control myself and let things progress at their own rate, and play out as they will.

I feel like I'll surprise her a lot and that'll be fun too. This all from just a few hours of conversation, mind you (you mysterious you, you!) and who knows how wrong I might be even just tomorrow.

But for tonight I'm [see above for multiple descriptions]! Mysterious you, hope with me! I'd love someone to love, and to love me too!

<3 Maddie

New Holiday - Obama Day!

I post to celebrate the president elect, Obama, and to wave a (not so) sad farewell to that bastion of the old brigade, McCain.

Adieu, dear John...I shan't miss your lumpy, melty face, your watery eyes, or your frightening political promises, but I will certainly miss your role as dramatic foil to my bff Barak.

I've been afraid for America and sick of the political morass we've been stuck in since highschool. It didn't matter how often I voted, or how often I voiced concerns...Bush still became president and then he was reelected. I watched and listened as gay rights slipped and were undermined by countless bigoted policies. Shocked by the aggression and apparent idiocy of the president, I began to gave up hope in my country. How could the majority of the country have elected this man? The fear-mongering was understandably persuasive, especially following the attacks of 9-11. We needed to trust in someone...but I think we firmly ended up backing a bully. Bush was a good-old boy...I suppose people empathized with him, saw something of the guy down the street in him. The guy down the street who swore, and drank, and had all that trash on his front yard and brought down property values. And threw his garbage over the fence.

But as the primaries began and I began to research the candidates, I fell in love with Obama. I could only love him more if he were female. His policies. His charm. His candor and presidential demenor (even from the getgo) impressed me. I didn't know if he would be able to maintain that cool throughout the inevitably lengthy race to the white house, but I hoped; in part, because he hoped. And when he won the primaries, I did everything I could to not sink all of my hopes into his. I wanted him to win so badly. I began to look at living overseas, in part because I like the idea overall, but also in part to provide an escape route if McBush won.

Two days ago I had a dream that McCain won. It haunted me. I just want so much more from America.

And then, tonight. Tonight, when Obama won. He won. I'm still in shock. The first African-American president. A democrat to overturn the policies of Bush. A first family with two adorable little girls, and Michelle Obama, a force unto herself. It's so awesome.

Now I'm cautious, only in that it seems so good it can't be true. I hope he's got some awesome secret service agents watching everything, protecting him at every turn. Because charismatic leaders in this country have a very poor track record. Lincoln. MLK. JFK. Yeah, you see the common thread there. So I pray for Obama and for his safety - I want him to be able to live his dream, to make so many Americans' dreams a reality.

I don't know if he will keep his promises. I hope he does. I hope he turns out to be the person he appears he could be. And if he isn't...well, nothing can be as bad as Bush was. And that's a bit of sunshine to light my day.

-me

a quick update on life.

Alright, I know it's like...SOOOOO late, but I'm so behind on posting about my life that I decided (executive decision style) that I need to at least say something about what's been going on!

So I have my puppy, Bean. We've covered that she's a HUGE part of my life - her potty training is going well, she's on her second week of recovery from her spay and her incision and stitches look just great. She's a puppy so she has so much energy it's amazing. All that energy is totally wasted right now though, as i don't dare take her on walks or let her play with the big dogs as long as she has her stitches in! She's a low rider, you know, and could easily rub her belly on something while say, jumping up a curb, and rub her incision or even pull her stitches. So I play with her a bit in the grass each time we go out, and for now that's ok. She's a lub.

For the last two weeks I've been house sitting/cat sitting/dog sitting for Teresa and her mom. A little extra money, but mostly it was so that I could love somewhere else for a while and just get the feel of apartment life. It's a really really really good feel. Sure makes me want one of my own! Chris, Teresa's beau, told me he has a friend looking for a roommate, and rent wouldn't be over 300. Vancouver proper. It sounds too good to be true and that maybe...but I'm willing to take the chance at least to meet him and get a sense of the situation.

Also I got hired. FOR SERIOUS! I'm working with Lifetouch, the school photo company. I'm a photographer. Yeah, it's actually a lot of fun. I thought it would be kind of like santa photos...just kind of poke a button, let the machine do it's thing, get yelled at by parents and kids etc. But it's a lot more hands on with the photography, and you get to actually pose the kids more and interact more. It's fantastic! And yeah, high paced and difficult kids and parents even sometimes, but I like an element of challenge to my work. My coworkers are, on the whole, amazing but no real potential "friends" as far as I've met so far. I'm really choosey about that afterall, and shy. Maybe more shy than choosey. I think I'd rather confide my whole life story to a stranger than let them see my bedroom or have a meal with me. People are so unpredictable, afterall.

Tomorrow I go in for a meeting for work, which I'm not looking forward to. Beaverton. Rush hour on the way back, without a doubt. But also submitting paperwork, and next week another paycheck...which will be good news of course. Any money is good money.

So for a while I wanted a Wii. Now I only a tiny bit do. Because...want is the root of pain, isn't it? Do I know nothing of Hinduism? Buddhism? Taoism? And even Christ asks us to consider the lilies of the field, the creatures of the air, etc. It would put me back financially, when I need to be saving for moving out and funding my dreams. I'm a squirrel in the fall, storing nuts everywhere to feed me through the winter. I don't need to piddle it away on toys. And I'm not great at the self-control thing or being responsible so that's a pretty big thing for me to recognize I think. Semi-mature of me.

I better go to sleep so I'm not wiped tomorrow at the meeting.

I'm really looking forward to Sunday...I'm going to see what the Protestants up the street are up to, and see if it doesn't feel the little hole in my heart that's been there since leaving Minnesota and coming to this religious desert! I know there is a place for me.

Artistically, I'm about to start a piece for miesha...a giant ear in charcoal. Technical drawing!!! OOoooh! THere's a huge and awesome challenge! I'm so looking forward to that too.

My health has been alright. Yesterday there was a fuzzy brain migraine and I've got this little cold clinging to me. But my PCOS and my IC are doing alright with only occasional flare ups of the IC if I don't drink enough water or cheat with the caffeine. Then I deserve it of course.

Overall...I'm really happy with life right now. Sunny spot! I'm glad for that. I have some friends going through some dark times and I'm glad I can be light for them!!

That's about it, night night!

- me

My Little Beanie-Weenie!

So my life has been, since Monday, primarily occupied with the training and entertainment of my new longhair dachshund puppy, Bean. I love her to little pieces of pieces, even though she can be a perfect terror sometimes. <3 To read daily updates on our struggles and successes and general gab on my ideas behind dog training, visit Bean's blog at http://doxiebean.blogspot.com/ . I'm going to talk about NON-Bean related things in THIS blog, so as not to sound like a total mushball insane dog person, but trust me, it's all a show.

So I went to Miesha's place Thu-Sun, and it was an absolutely AWESOME time. We played, shopped (welllll, grocery shopped) ate delicious food, and saw one HELL of an awesome concert! Now that I look back, I can't believe I got to see Eddie Izzard. He's really like, the ONLY celebrity I "follow" in any way - like I know some of his history and I've heard all his routines and noticed his appearance in movies and tv and such. We (Miesha and I) agree it was hardly his best show, but even Eddie's worst routine would be better than LOTS of comics' best, so it was still lovely and a good time was had by all. Miesha and I had some good talks, which were mostly (and unfortunately) about me, and about religion and my current struggles with it. I excuse myself a little since I was having SUPER CRAZY HORMONE days, like crying at ridiculous things and getting irritated or angry for no good reason. Stupid hormones. PMS is the pits! But still...it's nice to process yourself outloud sometimes, and Miesha was nice enough to let me. Love you sister. I don't talk much about my feelings on this subject because I feel mostly prickly and conflicted and don't much like to talk to people who are...well, less conflicted. But it was good food for thought anyway.

On the way home we stopped by Dom and Kelsie's and I got to meet a baby related to pigpigpigpigpigpig and pigpig herself! The rule is you can attatch as many "pigs" onto her name as you feel like at the time, you see. Well pigpigpig is SOOOOO full of little babies! She looks like she has two fur covered barrels strapped to her sides. I was informed by mom that I'm not allowed to have one, and since I have Bean now it wouldn't be fair to a baby guinea pig since I give so much attention to my dog and the guinea pig wouldn't get played with enough/much. But still...it'd be adorible! I also got to see his ridiculously flourishing flora fruit and vegetable plants and his chickens. Chickens with feathers on their feet, that do not yet lay eggs. Right now, all they do is eat, poop, sleep and make noise. Like a baby, but without the cuddling and with more feathers. AND they gave me PRESENTS! It was like the birthday that wouldn't end! A ridiculous amount of wonderful presents which made me feel sheepish and wonder what I did to deserve presents of that amount. I guess they like me. lol.

I could see myself living ala Dom and Kelsie. Really. Off on my own in a wooded place. I'd want the house already there, but I'd love to keep my own garden, and I'd have lots of roses that the deer would probably come out of the woods to munch on in the thoughtful manner that deer prefer when destroying carefully tended flora. And maybe a kiln out back. I'd have a studio with a wheel, and a big easel and a light box and a desk for crafting with wire and paper and such. And my kitchen would be my own and I would know everything in every cupboard, and it would be filled only with food I liked, and I could eat as much or as little of any item as I wanted. I would wake up on a clear, cold morning and wrap up in a shawl and take a hot cup of tea to the front porch and just sit on the steps with my dog and watch the sun move and the birds fly and the time pass.

I've always seen myself living alone. Sometimes I think that's lonely, but most of the time, and now included, I just think it's ideal. To live all on my own, I can have all my eccentricities without critique, and I have no one to ask permission from and no one to apologize to. I can just be. When you're with other people, how do you just "be"? I, at least, am always focused on the needs and concerns of the other person or people. I try to help myself "not care" what other people feel or think about me, but until I'm away from people I always feel an under-current of stress, a certain degree of tension in everything I do and say and think about. I don't think of myself as high-strung really. As soon as I get away and on my own it's all so much better and I'm just content. Alone is where I learn, and where I make art, and where I sing, and where I am happiest. It seems to me that people think that those who choose to live alone and away from others are weird and maybe dangerous. Well, for weird, I fit the bill. But I am extremely not dangerous, lol. And of course I'd go to the town and spend cash once a week or so with groceries and some socializing. I wouldn't be completely cut off, I do like interacting with people...just not all the time. Not even the majority of the time. And well, I think that's ok. As long as I do good in the world and make some kind of difference, I think I'll be alright.

And...that's enough thought for now, it is SO bed time.

<3 me.

I'M GETTING MY OWN DOG!!!

So today was my parents 31st wedding aniversary. That doesn't sound like it's connected to the title, but it is. So I made delicious lemon bars and helped set the table and make dinner. As we were sitting around at the end of the meal, Mara told us about this strange dream she had (I'm sure she'll relate it if you ask her) and then I mentioned (pout pout) how I seriously dream about having my own puppy or kitty every night. And I do. And dad said "now don't get all excited...etc etc...but I know someone with a dachshund who is looking for a new owner!" and I said "of course I say yes. I want my dog. That sounds like my dog - girl, small, cute! Meets my dog standards! But I was outvoted on this before since it's not my house." And mom and dad must have had a small conversation then, and they agreed to let me have my dog! They're going to pay for her, (my birthday gift! whee! Happy birthday to me!) and Mara is going to help me buy toys and bed and food for her! YAY!!!!

SO then Dad called the breeder/owner up (her name is Carol) and arranged for us to go up to her house right then and see the little girl. Her name is Annie right now, but I intend to rename her Bean - she's young enough to take to a new name pretty readily. My little Bean! Yay! She's a chocolate dapple longhair dachshund, and will never get above 10 lbs. Travel sized! We visited with Carol and Bean and her dachshund compadres, and Carol decided she unreservedly thought I would be a great owner for her little baby. Oh I'm so excited!

She looks A LOT like this, because this is her mommy!:


So that happens on Monday!

Tomorrow I go to a job interview with a photography company, which I look forward to. It's in the morning. I just don't know what to do with myself until I get my dog. Thankfully on Thursday or Friday I'll be going up to Bellingham and I'll have Miesha and my fam to distract me starting then. But honestly. OMG. I'm going to have my dog!


I'M GOING TO HAVE MY DOG AND LIFE IS GOING TO BE MORE AWESOME THAN EVER I'M SO EXCITED AHHHH!!!!


<3 me

The great camping trip 08! (1)

Pictures from the great camping trip 08! (2)

I'm sick of trying to make these pictures flow in the way I want...so I'm just gonna spit em out here. Enjoy.

One great hike...

It's been a long time since I posted....so now you get lots of pictures. This post will focus on the highlights of a hike dad and I took up Cape Horn. The above picture is of some nearly spent larkspar - it was blooming all over the place on our way up!





















it was gorgeous. I huffed and puffed the whole way. The final pics are my two favorites:

The Great Ebacher Quilt

So I've been meaning to blog about this the last couple of days, but Mara and Pat have kept me busy having fun with them.

I was doing my thing, running around the internet a week or two ago, learning things. First I learned a bit about bonsai. I think it's AWESOME and would love to collect my own from the wild and/or train one of my apple seedlings to be a bonsai, possibly cascading as that style really strikes me. Learned a bunch about it. Then I went to etsy, one of my favorite web places. Art coming out of their ears, over there. Although I'm yet to buy anything it inspires me endlessly, and I got to looking at quilts. Then the idea struck.

How about I sew a quilt? No really. A big quilt, for a queen or king sized bed. And being that I get ambitious with art in this fashion, why not have it be all about the fam? So here's how it goes. Later, perhaps, I'll post a nice little diagram to better visually represent this.

Around the perimeter each person gets one big square (1 ft x 1 ft) with just their name and some embroidery. Next to it (either beside or below) this same person has a large that is broken up into nine 4x4 inch blocks, each of these depicting visually an aspect of their personality or personal experience that they feel defines who they are and that they would like to use to represent themselves. So for example, I'll have a block with a little panda for china, as that study abroad experience broadened and deepened me and opened me up to the world in a way. Miesha wants to have ABC as one of her blocks to represent her love of language and pursuit of speech pathology. These small blocks will be done with individual applique and then pieced all together. There will be two additional blocks to represent interests that are common to the whole family - like the names of our foreign exchange students, owned pets, and direct inlaws. That's all on the outside. On the inside will be the Ebacher crest (yes we have a crest). I'm thinking the main colors I'll use for background will be red and cream, because black shows up nicely on both and I'd like to do most of the stitching with white and black threads.

Now I know what you're about to say. I'm insane. I know that. This is one of those big projects over the course of which I'll learn a lot of skills and probably around the middle I'll grow very frustrated with. It will occupy a lot of my free time. But I think it's AWESOME and a future heirloom, and how cool to have that in the fam, really? The idea that mom had was that after I finish sewing it, it could be exchanged between family members at christmas, and each year that family member would have it all year. Isn't that awesome? I think it's awesome.

So far I've got my squares, dad's, miesha's, and mara's. Dom, you're the only one left! So think about it and get back to me soon. Don't think too hard about it, though - impulse is a good thing with this!


In other but very related news, I got an interview monday with a veterinary clinic in vancouver for a receptionist position. I'm officially THRILLED. I rocked the phone interview. But the pay will be good (better than 10 with room for a pay increase) and with it, I can buy my first bolts of background fabric for The Quilt! Huzzah!

My time with Mara has been really fun so far, and I look forward to the last few days I have out here with her. I'm a bit too tired to recount what's happened on my trip so far, so that'll have to wait for a future post. <3

I am very happy.

- me

PART 1 -- Obama rally: Portland, Oregon 2008!

PART I: the line, the crush, the decemberists

YESSS! OBAMA RALLY! IT WAS SO AWESOME!!!

Here's a step by step photo journey.





This is documenting the very beginning of our journey - right after we left the driveway, Obama stickers on the dash!




This was the line in front of us, looking toward the waterfront. We were within three blocks of the front of the line - a reward for being there before 9:30! The line behind us was unfathomably long...imagine how long the line would have to be to fit all the people who eventually fill the waterfront park!! Ridiculously long is the answer.




Once we got in line there were a lot of people wearing very cool shirts. I loved this one, advertising Obama's book which recently came out. My camera focused on it perfectly. <3




The Secret Service, well before the rally started headed toward who knows what secret servicey thing. There was excellent security on premises, we went through metal detectors and there were police and police boats and military types about, but not oppressively.




This is the view of the waterfront park, once we reached our final position close to the stage, looking away from the stage. Yeah. This is just the start of something beautiful.




The DECEMBERISTS played to warm us up. No joke, I was listening to them while I was in the line, waiting. I had NO IDEA they were going to play before Obama hit the stage...I love The Decemberists! Dad got some audio recordings of them but I didn't think to do that. All I could think about was how awesome the music was, and how much my feet hurt. XP




Here they are, playing away. This is my camera at maximum zoom, trying its hardest. At the time I think they were playing Crane Wife. I <3 you Decemberists! You made me forget how hot it was getting, and how much my feet hurt.




This is the explosive size of the rally in all its glory. Wow. Portland really does love Obama!

PART 2 -- Obama rally: Portland, Oregon 2008!

PART 2: OBAMA ARRIVES! HUZZAH!

After the Decemberists jazzed us up with their inspiring but strange music (that's how I like it!) we were pepped up by a girl about the same age as me. She was not Obama, so I didn't take any pictures of her. Then a senator in support of Obama stood up and talked for a little while. He was a senator, so I took A picture of him...but meh. THEN OBAMA HIT THE STAGE!!






Here he is with Michelle Obama and his two girls. Don't they look like a beautiful family? Please forgive my camera but it doesn't have a telaphoto zoom. As it is we were lucky to be as close as we were!












This is him, giving his awesome speech. Oh Obama! You set us all on fire! We cheered! We booed when appropriate! It was a thrilling speech. Healthcare! Environment! Tuition! Education! War! Inflation! Alternative Energy! He also mentioned Bush's recent comparision between those who seek to negotiate with middle eastern nations and those who wished to negotiate with Hitler. Oh, there were many boos. He is not interested in being forced into false dichotomies like "friend of hilter" or "patriot/war mongerer" and he is a smart man and can recognize that. Good smart Obama.

...More images from his speech. He wants you! He touches his nose! He spreads his hand upon the masses! GO FORTH OBAMA NATION! WE CAN CHANGE THE WORLD!


Unfortunately all things must come to an end. So Obama said goodbye, and we waved and cheered until we couldn't see him anymore. This is just what it was like

If you can't read that, click on it, it might get better. Origional picture is of course higher resolution. Obama says: Bye bye Portland, I'm gonna go become President now! and the cheering, enthusiastic crowds says: Rock on!

PART 3 -- Obama rally: Portland, Oregon 2008!

So that's how it went. These are a few other pictures from the rally experience.






Dad's Hat!

and...


My shirt, with Obama love on it.























The rally was THOUSANDS strong, around 75,000 people. Huge. This is a PRIMARY RACE my friends. Can you believe it? Believe it. Because getting out of there was a whole different kind of hell, lol. For a while we were accidentally in the line for the bathroom, as we are all lemmings in the disguise and we all thought we were headed OUT. No, just outhouse.

Now I am at home, I have received a healthy dose of Obama and I am happy. The End.

Oh! And last night's dream

last night's dream...before I have a new one tonight.

Since it's been a while I only remember fractured images, which completely fail to connect to one another.

It seems I was traveling. Why, or how is completely unknown. The first place I was in was Ireland. There were rolling green hills. A lot of sheep. I met a woman there who I fell in love with, and she had this beautiful accent. I think I mostly loved her accent.

Then I was in some South American country. We were about to eat suckling pig, which I find impossibly disgusting. These little baby pig carcasses, some of them halved and some whole were being laid on super long grills and into a long trench fire-pit. In my dream I didn't have my usual reaction to it (omg, pigs are smarter than dogs and these are BABIES) but it was all just tasty meat to me. There was some guy there who was showing me how to lay the halved faces on the grill. I mean ew, when I woke up and rethought about it.

So. Apparently I want to travel? Idk.

Tonights emotions

So, I got this feeling tonight. Not in the pit of my stomach - that usually just means I have either gas or indigestion. No, it was feeling in my chest, like a fluttering tremor. Like a very tiny earthquake. It started the moment I walked in the door to dogsit here, again. I love dogsitting at Brenda and Gary's place...it's like pretending that I'm responsible and independent. I have a key to the front door, I can watch tv and sleep in a bed and here I am, the only active human. The only person. I can almost pretend that it's my place. I think that's why I got the earthquake initially.

I like being alone. I know people are always saying that "man is a social animal" and "no man is an island" and things like that, but I thrive on seclusion. To close the door and listen to music and read a book...a lot of the time it's all I need to feel happy. And the internet, of course. I have to able to learn new things too, that's what the internet is more or less for in my opinion. And when I'm by my lonely I can think about things at my own pace, I can let ideas percolate and solidify in whatever manner they like. Not that the great white tower of self-seclusion is always a safe place to be. It can be dangerous to be always by oneself, you lose perspective on the outside world, you forget the power of human interaction. Woah tangent. Anyway, the earthquake is actually a symptom of the other part of me. That part that needs to smile and laugh at strangers. That needs to dance enthusiastically. To sing kareoke. To not think. To chat carelessly with friends.

Why the earthquake came when I walked in the door isn't that surprising. I've been in hermit mode for the better part of four weeks. My personality being cyclical in nature, it was simply time. Time to go out. The change in environment spurred my resolve.

In answer to the earthquake, Dezi texted me. She must have a sixth sense about these kinds of things, she sought to "liberate me from my basement cave," which is naturally where she assumed I'd be. And I was all about that.

So I went out, I had a shot or two, sang ridiculously loud and sometimes off key! I met Dezi's new girlfriend who's awesome, and I had an all around wholesome good time. But when I got back to my car, there was this feeling I got. It was not the earthquake, or indigestion. I felt somehow anxious. Somehow nearly panicked.

I don't know why I felt like that. All the way home, the anxiety was there. To my benifit, it did keep me driving the speed limit (but then, my constant fear of concealed police cars can do the same!). But this nameless dread...

maybe it's because I know this isn't my house. This isn't my life. I'm still a basement-dwelling, nearly-postgrad, unemployed semi-adult. I'm gutless when it comes to pursuing my own dreams. The money I spent out at play tonight is not money I had to "work" for. I earned this money pretending to live a life that's not mine yet.

The new feeling, the anxiety, is not unfamiliar. It stirs up every now and then. It's this restlessness. It makes me want to hit the street and walk until I can't walk anymore, and then find a hotel and somehow start a new life. It's what made me, last semester, take a bike ride out ten miles, as far as my screaming legs would let me. The anxiety that makes me want to say fuck it all and just GO. Just stop treading water.

I want my own place. I want a job, where I can feel appreciated and I can do my work well and improve. I want these things, but I am (as always) petrified by fears of my own inadequacy and the specter of failure.

I'm not precisely unhappy with my current situation. There's a lot of free time involved. But as mentioned before, the white tower is a dangerous place to be.

Those are my feelings for tonight. Huzzah.

<3 Maddie

Women and The Great War On Hair

When I will myself from the comfort of sleep each morning, the first thing I do is feel my face. I run my fingertips along the skin starting just below my ears. Both hands, on either side, I slide them lightly down along my jaw line. Very slowly, often back tracking. Until they meet. The ridges on my fingers catch and make a rough grating sound like sandpaper when I push against the grain. There is a grain because they are feeling hair. Thick, invasive hair that has grown, as it has always done, overnight. Black hair. Cactus needle-like hairs, with which I am at constant war. From which I shall never be totally free. I am 22 years old, not entirely unattractive but yes, overweight, and yes, female and yes, at war with body hair.

Please, dear reader, try to push past whatever your immediate reaction to female body hair may be. This is MY true horror story in grim detail. I did not choose to be a werewolf. I am not apologizing for bringing to light an untalked about, shamefully taboo subject. If you can't stomach the truth, than maybe you shouldn't be reading a blog. Just an idea.

To continue, there is a sound medical reason for my beardedness. My hairfulness. I have a condition called PCOS (Poly Cystic Ovarian Syndrome) that causes me to produce excess androgens like testosterone, which encourages the growth of facial hair. Yes, testosterone, the ultimate male hormone. Thanks. There are lots of other side effects like infrequent (in my case every 5 or 6 months) periods and weight gain and infertility and even insulin-resistance, but for me the facial hair is the most irritating.
Since puberty I’ve had to shave my face. Most women will grow a few stray hairs on their chin to pluck. For the lucky few of us who have more significant growth, it’s a lot of work. I grow copious amounts of hair all along my jaw line, under my chin, and above my lip. Yes, copious! If the hair was blonde, I would likely leave it be. But my dear, sweet, mostly German mother blessed me with black hair over every inch of my body including my face.
Returning to our narrative, I'll get up out of bed at that point and go to the bathroom. I’ll survey the night’s growth in the mirror. I shave at least twice a day to combat the ever re-growing army. After I have saved enough money I plan to begin electrolysis which will only need to be done every 3 months for a year, and then not at all ever again. Saving money isn't something I'm very good at, but I'm good at imagining things, so I imagine what it would be like if I went the opposite route. If I was just...hairy. If I lived in other times, I would just let it grow. I could be a bearded lady at a circus. Proper women whose hormones were in a typical balance, whose heritage made them naturally smooth and sleek, could look upon my hairiness in wonder. They would gasp, surely, they would wonder if I had a penis. Because only men can grow beards, of course. Except for women like me. And they would whisper to each other how “barbaric” I looked and wonder at my ability to drink from proper teacups and do simple arithmetic. An interesting fantasy, that. Alternately, if I were a wilderness woman living by myself in rugged country, my beard could keep me warm like an extra scarf. I ponder what it would be like to let it all grow out properly, uninterrupted by razor blades and burning hot wax and someday, electrolysis. How large would it grow? How thick? I picture the beards of mountain men superimposed on my own face. Paul Bunyan beards. Could it grow so proficiently that I would be able to tuck it in my coat? Would I someday be able to braid it? Would it be curly or straight? Can ANY part of me be straight? (har har, right?)
I have a lot of feelings about body hair. Because of my condition and my genetics I grow an extraordinary amount of it, not only on my face, but nearly everywhere. I constantly struggle with the idea of “bad hair.” Hair is bad the advertisers say, hair is unclean. Shave it all off! Every woman I have ever known says the same. But hair is only so horrifically bad on women, have you noticed this? On men, hair is strength, hair makes you rough and powerful and a bit dangerous. But hair on women is “freakish” is “unnatural” is “manly” is “grotesque.” And I look in the mirror every morning to greet this assault of adjectives. There it is, my hair. Unasked for. Growing. Currently, (due to my poverty) unstoppable. Sometimes, I hope that I could remove it simply by demoralizing it. Bad hair! Get off of me.
But as I was saying, I have a lot of body hair. My arms and knuckles have always been dark and hairy. So much so that kids teased me, that I wore long shirts, that I was deeply sensitive of it. And then of course the leg hair grew. The bikini line. My pubic hair. Armpit hair. And then the hair that falls into “other;” the hair trailing up to belly button – very faintly on me, but real. Hair in my ass crack. And the facial hair. Hair everywhere. Puberty had made of me a total horror, a freak of nature enslaved to the shaving razor. I was teased mercilessly until I began shaving. Then, too, I was teased but less than when I let it all grow. I gave up on shaving my arms about midway through junior high, but I still wear long sleeves shirts more often than not. Being a naturally hairy woman draws a lot of negative attention from everybody.
And I hate shaving. I run the razor briefly under water, and splash some water on my face as well. I rub a bit of soap there, just enough to ensure that I won’t have any burn or bumps. Shaving creams have the most obnoxiously strong scents, especially if they’re so close to your face like that. And it seems it takes an especially sharp razor to get it all off, down to the point where my skin is smooth once more. I nearly feel like a werewolf removing evidence of her condition.
I’m really truly torn, though. I can keep hating all the hair, keeping it shaved or plucked or waxed all over my body. I could do that and I would find acceptance from strangers, and praise from friends, and congratulations from sisters. Or I could accept my body as nature has provided it. I could look in the mirror and say, “you want to grow? Then grow.” It would. And I would know if it could be put in curlers or braided. And I could then never be hired by anyone but circuses. And those who were my friends while I groomed would no longer be such. My family would revile me, would chide me, and would denigrate me. Strangers would laugh at me, or mistake me for the other gender. And a very very few women would look at me and briefly feel free – because there is a woman who has hair too, and isn’t ashamed of it.
I have, in the past, let my pits and legs and pubic hair all grow as they willed. Will they did! I felt like a natural, hairy creature. Like at any moment I could return to the forest and frolic amidst the animals and bathe in a stream. But then summer would come, and the weather would demand I bear my legs. Eventually I’d wuss out and make my legs slick and shiny as they were before I became a proper woman, as smooth as though I didn’t have breasts. Pre-pubescent legs.
Obviously, as I wish to continue participating in this ridiculous parade called polite society, I’m forced to shave. My poor little ego can’t take children pointing and laughing at me. I can’t withstand a replay of those times in my childhood where I was scorned and laughed at for being so unbearably different. Even my partner has expressed her hatred of hair. But this essay is my weak little protest to the system. My fist shaking in the air and saying “THIS SHOULDN’T BE SO!” although it surely takes no notice. Why should I buy razor after razor to dull and throw into the ever-amassing American trash heap? Why should I be FORCED to pollute by society? Why can’t I love my body as it grows and is…why can’t others recognize that this too is a form of beauty? And simply others KNOWING that I GROW hair is somehow deeply shameful. Oh no! I have active hair follicles over which I have no control at all! Why should I be ashamed of even this? Why should I leave to grow the hair on top of my head but not the hair that grows on my legs or to the greatest extreme my face? Why?

Oh, why I ask? I know. Because if I do otherwise, I’ll be punished. And that’s all there is to it.

my new hair is awesome

CAN Paul McKenna make me thin?

He says he can.

Hi. I've been overweight more or less my whole life. There's no way around the fact that I would like to be thin, and fit, and healthy. I always thought the primary problem was how much I loved food and how lazy I am.

Not so, says Paul. He says I have been programmed, by others and myself, to respond in a certain way to food. When I sit down to a meal that I'm really excited to eat, that I know is gonna be SO good, I inhale it. I eat all of it, leaving my plate clean. Paul is giving me four new rules to approach food with. They are:

1. When you're hungry, eat!
- starving yourself messes with your metabolism. It makes you crave and then binge on food later. It leads to guilt and stress. So when you're hungry, eat food.

2. Eat what you want.
- creating "forbidden foods" makes you want it even more, and gives guilt when your impulse-control fails. Do you like some foods a lot more than others, food that you would consider your favorite? You feel guilty when you eat them, don't you? Well stop the guilt. Eat the food, because you like the food. (am I blowing your mind yet?)

3. Eat consciously.
- with each bite of your food, PUT DOWN THE EATING UTENSILS. Chew slowly, and think about the food, and listen to your stomach. Are you still hungry? Then take another bite. It should feel like you're eating excessively slow. Think about the flavors. Enjoy your food! Turn off the tv and the distractions and just eat.

4. When you think you're full, stop eating.
- You're going to leave food on your plate. THAT'S OK. That maybe even be considered good. And you know, there are refrigerators. There are microwaves. And there are your thighs. Where do you want that food (which you're not even hungry for!) to end up? And when you're hungry later, you can go eat again! It's ok! Listen to your body and let it tell you when to stop.

So yes, I'm going to listen to Paul. If he thinks he can make me thin, then let's do this man. I will follow your rules. And if I lose weight, I'm going to be happy. And if I don't...well, then that sucks but life goes on, right?

There are other things he's going to teach me next sunday. (Sunday's at 9 on TLC!) Each week I'll learn some new tricks to keep me losing weight. And he keeps bringing on these people who were heavier than me, and are now skinny and beautiful! It almost makes me want to hope!!

Lets do this Paul. Lets make me thin.

<3 me.

Oh Yeah.

So here's the thing.

I have certain things I gotta do. I gotta complete this course, and get myself graduated in May. I think I can do that if I just focus (which can be a struggle all on it's own, admittedly).

Then I have this job opportunity in June. I'm really really really excited about it, but I don't think I should put all my eggs in that one basket. I don't think I should but I seem to be doing it, because I HATE applying for jobs. Hate it. So much. Hate filling out all the stupid forms and I look so pathetic on paper. So idk.

And then how all my dreams just get in the way! I want a new computer, so I can have an ipod touch, and I want a car...all this besides my consuming desire for an apartment of my own. And I have no income, because all my eggs are in THAT basket. So.

I don't know what I should be doing with myself right now except getting that grade and finishing that degree. It's so frustrating because I just want it all NOW you know? I'm not a particularly patient person. I mean, waiting in line or at the doctors office or stuck in traffic, I'm fine. But waiting for my goals to get met...OMG NO. Not patient at all.

So to distract myself from this irritation I've been spending money, which I've come to realize is pretty much the exact opposite of what I should be doing, seeing how limited my funds are right now. I'm still over 600 in my savings, but that won't last if I keep doing what I've been doing...buying little things online, going out for drinks with my friends on the weekends. But these things make me feel like I'm DOING something. I can't just sit around the house and watch tv and clean and watch the days go by. That's not working out for me. I get stir crazy. I AM stir crazy. I want out of this.

- Maddie

FUCKING VALENTINE'S DAY.

Today was Valentine's Day. It's not anymore, it's just a friday now. I'll get up in the morning, make the bed (I really do make the bed every morning here...I think it's because I know it's not my house), let the barking dogs out, put them back in their kennels and go to class. Then I'll come back here for a few hours, go home and have dinner with my parents, and then go out. I just have to. Because Valentine's day worked. It made me feel alone.

I was doing fine. I was single, and yeah, still trying to get over the two greatest loves of my life. But I was getting past it all I think. A little bit. And then damn you Valentine's day.

She called, Caitlin that is. Hearing her voice was so wonderful. I could feel the great chasm of distance between us, there were all these empty pauses in our conversation. We never had that emptiness before. She's done things since we last saw eachother; taken classes, met new people. She's dating a boy she really really likes. She's crazy about him. I don't have the heart to hate his guts since he makes her so happy but OH I want to. I'd been thinking about her all day. There's this song I wrote, right before I left, about how I knew I loved her, and that she didn't love me, and that she was going to move on and how I didn't know if I'd meet someone who felt so much like home to me ever again. Wah wah wah I know it's so self pitying and indulgent. I can't seem to help it. I hate this day.

So to get my mind off the mess I spent a lot of time at home with mom and dad, until I knew I had to go back to the doghouse, to let the poor creatures out and you know, be responsible. I brought movies along. An action flick, pirates of the carribean, some opera...and music and lyrics. I didn't at the time realize what compelled me. I knew it was a bad idea even; romantic comedies are vapid, emotionally manipulative things. I knew I'd like it, and it'd get me all sappy and...romantic. UGH.

So of course I had to watch it. I told myself I'd make fun of it, distance myself. But here's the thing that I'd done to myself. I had forgotten that one of the first thoughts I'd had upon meeting Caitlin, was that when she looked up and to the left, she looked strikingly like a brunette Drew Berrymore. When she'd do that it'd catch my heart on my throat and I'd just stare at her dumbly. She's so spontanious and beautiful like that. And really, watching that movie, it was like meeting her again and playing around and having fun and it brought me back to that year I spent where we were eachother's shadows. Where I couldn't spend a day without hearing her voice and her laugh and endlessly wanting to hold her close to me and just be with her.

Maybe that's strange of me. I mean, I think of erotic scenarios about other people, of course. That's just human. But with her...it's like it sullies something. All I wanted, really, was to hold her, and breathe with her, and touch her. I think...idk, maybe that is the most important part of any relationship to me. Its so important to be able to fight and to discuss and make eachother laugh and think...but being able to just silently BE together...that's what gets me. That's what really fills up that little hollow spot behind my sternum.

So I sabotaged myself by watching this Drew Berrymore flick, is the gut of this story. And I'm left with all these echoes. At least with Teresa the memories are less fresh, and I never felt I knew her as perfectly as I felt I knew Caitlin.

I'm glad I'm not going back in the Spring. I was going to visit, to play with my friends. But not only would that be extremely painful...thinking about how depressed I was on occasion there, about my academic failing...but just by being there some little part of me would be holding out 'maybe if I'm just near her, she'll turn to me and fall for me and it will all be sunshine and rainbows and puppy-dogs!' But it won't be. It's not going to happen. I know that. I can want and I can wish and I can even beg but it won't make her feel anything for me that she doesn't already feel.

I need to meet the girl who can elicit this response in me and love me back. I need her to come into my life soon. Because I can't accumulate anymore heartache like this.

So tomorrow night I'm going out. Finding my girlfriend is now, once again, a priority.

And damn you Valentine's Day. I'm glad you're over and I can go back to my single life without feeling so publicly SHAMED!

- Me

Illogical Fears

Being that I am a crazy person, I have a few illogical fears. It makes me feel better to enumerate the ways in which I'm crazy. Maybe it helps me understand it better. Also, I think it's ridiculous and funny in a way. Or it would be a lot funnier if it weren't me that was experiencing the crazy. Like, if I heard about this kind of thing on a tv channel I would find it entertaining. I'm not making anything up here, I'm genuinely afraid of these things.

So some of my fears (one's I'm not too embarrassed to share, I suppose. I won't list too many because that'll make me look REALLY crazy. Also not ones that will make it hard for me to sleep immediately after writing this.)

I can't sleep with a cat in the room. I once read this story about a folk belief that cats would creep near to a baby's crib while it slept and steal the soul of the baby, killing it. It was some kind of folk explaination for SIDS. But anyway, I just don't like cats near me when I sleep. I mean...what if they could suck my soul out while I slept? The cats in this house that I dogsit at are often sweet. Two of them love me to death...they live to curl up on my lap or just lie near me and purrrrrr. But I pick them up and move them away if I'M going to sleep. Sure they seem all sweet and innocent. But everyone knows that cats are the allies of the devil. They seriously have something evil in them, even the sweetest most gentle cats are tainted. I like cats. I just don't trust them.

baby dolls I don't trust those fixed, shiny eyes. I don't like the stiff smiles. They creep me out. I'm sure they'll move. They too would like to kill me in my sleep. This one goes WAY back, my parents just gave up on buying me baby dolls after a while...I would have these nightmares that I still remember, vivid horrible nightmares. Yeah.

bees Um, well, I was stung in the eye when I was 3. I don't remember that, but I credit it with my fear of them. I can now be in the presence of a bee as long as it's not flying AT or too NEAR me...like if it's attacking a window, or minding it's own business collecting pollen. But if it flyings at or near me, all bets are off and I am getting away and out.

bugs getting in my ears Seriously, this is the root for more than a few compulsions. Just thinking about it gets me twitchy. I had this dream once that sacks full of spider eggs hatched all over me and crawled all over me and then crawled into my ears and I could feel/hear them. Ugh.

driving or walking next to busses or trucks OMG it scares me so bad. I just give them so much space. I'm sure they'll either side swipe me or just fall over on me. They're too big!!

everyone behind me is an unmarked police car yep. That's paranoia for you. I just CAN'T speed. Because one of them is undoubtibly an unmarked car. I HATE THOSE THINGS. Gone are the days when you can trust your fellow driver!!! Now on a level this is a logical fear. But equally...it's really really paranoid.

hm, something not about driving...


nope, nope I have to stop if I'm going to sleep ok. If I keep thinking like this I'll think about the ones that have to do with sleeping, and there are a lot of those, and then I'll have a really hard time getting to sleep.

Goodnight!

A Boring Stream of Consciousness on Love.

So, here's some thoughts.

I'll start with the dream I had two nights ago...last night I dreamed I had a puppy of my very own, and come on, that happens every week. This was interesting, extraordinary.

I saved the life of Barrak Obama.

I really can't tell you much more than that. He was being kept in the fortress by an evil queen, and with the help of my friends we launched a daring rescue, being chased by beefy gaurds with swords. In my dream he was a kind, sincere, apologetic man who I have no real basis in comparison to the true man...he may be, he may not be, but I have barely researched him or his stances. But in my dream I liked and respected him. I felt like a powerful Amazon warrior minus the whole cutting off a breast thing.

So there's that.

I get so hung up on girls. This is obviously a new topic. But I get so hung up on them. With Teresa...it's like there's just no going back for me. When I really give my heart and let it all be out there...well I don't think I have connections like that with people all that frequently. And when I do have that connection, that's it for me. I don't need anything more, that's all I want. Complete emotional nakedness. And that's shocking on one level as many people never do that at all. But when I do, when I have that unbarred connection, I seem to be sold on that person for good. Teresa. I still love her. I'm pretty sure she knows this, and she doesn't seem to mind. I'm sure it's nice to be so loved; as long as I don't try and steal her from her loving and awesome boyfriend. I thought perhaps familiarity would breed, if not contempt, at least some kind of dampening of it all, but no. That love this is tenacious. For Caitlin it's a similiar situation, but I think perhaps my connection with her was even deeper on some level. We shared so much. She was like my other half, we were everywhere together. I feel like my time before her and my time without her are the same; I feel good with life, capable enough, smart enough. My time with her was like hyper-living. The world in neon. Everything was intensely better, more interesting, more livable.

So what I'm wondering, is how do I come to forge these connections? Clearly that didn't happen in my last two "real" relationships. With Liz, I think I tried too, and for a time we had a rapport that was pretty strong and compelling. But it all fell apart...we were just too different on things that were too important to me. With Dezi...well, we were really just all wrong for eachother. I was so hopeful because I was so into her initially, but then...well, it became clear that that kind of relationship I was looking for just wasn't going to happen. But it so looked like it.

But how do I make that happen again, as it happened with Teresa and Caitlin? For both of them I felt an instant attraction. With Caitlin I remember the exact moment I first saw her, and I wanted to know her and be near her and if possible kiss her from just seeing her across the room. And those days with Teresa are forever burned into my mind. It was heaven. I just don't have words for how I felt then, that divine haze, just being near her and watching her. That kind of sounds creepy, but like I said...I can't put it into words properly. More than anything I would risk or do anything to make her happy.

But if my connection with these people is so immediate, will it always be chance that I meet them? Chance that they catch my attention across the room?

The thing is, I could have been happy with Dezi. She cared about me, she didn't mind my forgetting or my overall craziness. She could keep me fairly secure, and help me mature in a lot of ways. But she didn't consume me like those past loves did...and that is what I am looking for most of all in a relationship. Maybe I should be more open to lesser loves. But maybe I'm capable of even greater loves than these that I've known. And that's what makes me not give up hope.

So that's what I've been thinking about. My health is ok. I don't drink any caffeine anymore, and without it irritating things I seem to have no uti symptoms at all...which seems to make me think I DO have intercystic cystitis just like Mara thinks. My doctor has neither confirmed nor denied this. I have to schedule and appointment with her, but I procrastinate because I really don't like going to the doctor, I prefer to complain. I've lost 10 lbs so far, and counting. Which is good! But I could do better if I tried harder.

I'm sleepy, and want to dream of beautiful women now.

- Maddie