My day's philosophy

We sometimes share things in the "my life today" topic in the porch conference,m Riette, but this diary idea is nice. Now that summer is here, and the girls are out of school, we spend our days doing the most fun stuff. Playing dress-up, going for long walks in the woods, acting out these incredibly imaginative scenarios that those two think up...they are just wonderful to be around. I feel so fulfilled like I never did from any job, and I just think we are so lucky to have each other--it's like we're in our own little world and no one else is invited (this is hard on Daddy). We have a school segment every day, where teach either French, writing, speech, math, art or geography. After I finish they always want a turn to be the teacher. Of course it's not always fun stuff, there are errands to run and arguments to mediate, etc., but overall it's a dream. I'm somewhat nervous/excited as we're going to look at a house tonight, but I don't want to jinx it by talking about it.

Right, I won't ask. Except - how big? Glad to see you also enjoy your girls. It must be great with them being a bit bigger. I can't do quite so much with my two yet. Isa, the three year-old has been walking for all her life (started at 7 months!!), and is no problem, but Elza, the two year-old can't walk too far yet, so the pushchair still has to tag along most of the time . . . which is a pain. So I tend to stick to places that aren't too far away from home - she is really bad tempered, and a pain in the butt when tired and annoyed (not like me at all, of course!). But I love being a mother. I was really scared when I got pregnant with Isa - I felt like I was too young, and not ready and all that, even though we planned it that way because of our age difference. But now I would not change things for the world. And I love having girls - not sure what I would have done with boys. They are such little acresses! They always bring me their winter stockings, which I then have to pull over their heads; they pretend it's their long hair!! It's so hilarious! And, yes, I know about the dressing up too! It's great fun. Today I've made my first good sculpture, so I feel quite happy.

i didn't know you did sculpture. i woke up this morning, oh okay it was this afternoon like around 3:00 or 4:00, well it was probably closer to 5:00. combed my eyelashes. plugged my nose. went out to eat to get me some dim sum (i always layer mine with nacho cheese & ketchup). came back home and got dressed. dusted off my photograph of Thomas Jefferson hugging Daffy Duck (taken by Edward Steichen, and i believe that happened on the same day Trotsky was killed in Mexico). I went to North Korea to check out all their Baskin-Robbins (was a little disappointed). Flew back to Austin in time for lunch (went to get some dim sum...they told me it was prepared in Brooklyn). Got home, took off my clothes and visited the PTA for the elementary school that's 11 blocks away (they were having their monthly meeting and i delivered a box of AK-47s to a big round of applause). Stopped off at a Motel 6 to see if they had any badminton birdies (bought a dozen, plus a satellite photo of a rootbeer in the hand of a Gatorade salesman in Vermont). Came back home, got dressed. Went out to eat (some dim sum, and at the height of its taste). Came back home, laid down in the bathtub, started thumpin' sum Chumba, fell asleep just as FedEx knocked on the door with a delivery of sum fresh bathwater. I didn't answer their knock. I was asleep. Had my eyes closed, too.

See, I knew this would be a good topic - it just explains everything, doesn't it? Wish I had such . . . eventful . . . days. You probably sleep in a coffin, right? ha-ha!

Today I woke up late for my exam. And then discovered it was 5.10 a.m. I slept again, until around 9 a.m., when I decided to get up. I pottered around for a while, feeling weird about the two Finnish people who are living in our house at the moment. They're old friends of one of our housemates, the only weird thing being that he flew out of the country on Friday, leaving them here until Sunday. Did some revision around 11 a.m., decided that I knew most stuff, and pottered about doing lunch stuff and killing the PC (again...). Battled through the rain to the station (15 minute walk, which sucks when the weather's cack), got on the train, got off at school, walked to the library and found my fellow exam people. Sat in the library basement, eating chocolate bars, talking about exams and courses, which was quite nice. Saw some people who I haven't seen for a couple of weeks. I realised that I had kind of missed them. Not sure what it will be like over the summer. Did the exam. It was super easy - should get a good mark. Managed to derive an equation from scratch just by reasoning, which I was pretty chuffed with. Made a mistake in the second line of my first question, which carried through the whole thing (two sides of A4). I had to re-write the entire question in just 15 minutes (it was a 30 minute question). Not impressed. I finished with about 2 minutes to spare. Came home. Played music. Sang. Practised for tomorrow night, as I'm going to go and sing at one of the university bars. Now it's 1.45 a.m., and I should be in bed, ready for church tomorrow. But I'm not. Ooopsies.

You sound a bit like a character from Dead Poets Society! Do you sing well? And what instrument(s) do you play? Yesterday I painted my sculpture. He's a funny looking little African fellow, with something both noble and decadent about him, sitting on a stone, wearing a big, colourful mask and a black and white checked shirt. Think I'll call him Raka, after the half man creature who symbolizes downfall and its importance in society in African literature. He's defenitely going to be part of my next exhibition.

We're in the throes of packing, as we leave Friday for 2 weeks in New England (specifically Connecticut, New Hampshire, Vermont, Maine and Quebec). It's done nothing but rain here and we can only hope sunny skies will prevail for this long-planned-for vacation. I am not driving 200 miles between destinations to sit in a hotel room playing Uno. Mike, I'm so glad your exams are going well--please tell us what kind of singing you do! Leplep, glad you're enjoying the dim sum! (LOL!) Riette, good for you for finding (or losing?) yourself in your sculpture, is it great to get the creative juices flowing or what? I get misty thinking about you pushing your daughter in a stroller, or maybe I'm just emotional in general these days. Offer made, countered, re-countered, rejected, blah blah blah. 3000 square feet (NO idea what that is in metric!!)

ha-ha!!! But DON'T!! God, Autumn, I can't believe you've already forgotten what the first year is like!!! I mean, I love my kids, but I didn't enjoy the first year - no, two. Having the first one, getting pregnant again after five little months, being fat for nine, having another, and then that year with her and a big sister who was also still a baby, all those nappies, the crying, the getting up, the getting confused between which one was on the breast, and which on the bottle . . . . aaahhh!!! I can sure appreciate why my mother waited six years before having my brother - having your kids close together, you did too, didn't you?, is tough, but having twins, I think, must be absolute HELL!! Anyway, I hope you have a wonderful holiday - nothing in sight for us yet, but we may go up to Scotland in August, I'm going to Florence for a weekend with a friend in October, and after that I'm going to visit my sister in America - looking forward to that. Let's see, what did I do today, besides eating pancakes . .. Oh, yes, I'm disgustingly creative - I did a whole design for my next painting of 100 x 140 cm, which is going to be a still-life, AND painted two of the sunflowers in it!!! Spank me!!

Sitting on the cat scratching post in front of the computer desk, with Tahjs alternating between getting comfy in my lap and jumping up to chase my fingers on the keyboard. Been packing for days on end. The house is a reality for us but I certainly sympathize with your bidding woes Autumn. We lost the first house we wanted. I've gotten myself an internship at a computer training facility. Unpaid but on my own schedule. Trying to open up some doors. I don't think I'll be teaching for thirty years (at least not straight through). Took myself out for breakfast this morning. Coffee bagel. I needed a bustling spot in which to sit and write. I wrote a poem for my father to send for Father's Day. Seems the older I get, the fonder the memories are. My last few days have been spent in relative solutide (minus the time at the computer center). I've received a few letters from the friend I mentioned a couple of weeks ago (odd timing) and I've been thinking a good bit about my life in general... what am I happy with, what am I unhappy with, what can I change, what do I want to change? Just pondering. And writing. And packing.

Moving always depresses me. When I'm in one place, I'm not so aware of my mortality. But when one moves, then you realize that a chapter in your Life is now finished, no turning back, not a single day to be retrieved - it's just gone. And you living space with its memories is going to become the new chapter in someone else's life. I find that very sad somehow.

I was morose and melancholy on Monday night. We have really made this house feel like a home and I worry about all the changes taking place with this new place but Brandon and I talked for hours about the good changes. He is so excited for me to get into this house. I haven't seen the inside since we bid on it but he went for final inspection a few days ago and was reminded how beautiful it is. How perfectly it suits our tastes. I'm chattering away on the computer but I need to go put on some nice clothes... we are going to the mortgage company in about 45 minutes to sign papers! I'm excited now. Still a bit nervous but excited. We discovered last night that our cats SUCK at hunting and catching bugs. They stalk them for hours and then start chasing each other. Attention Deficit I'm sure. Oh! And I got flowers yesterday "just because." That gave me warm fuzzies.

That's great. I too had a rather nice day. In the midst of my coughing and splattering the phone suddenly rang; turns out Mr. C. had sent some photos of my pictures to a CD company without my knowing, and they want to use my work for some of their Jazz CD covers. I thought that really very nice, so I'll probably go for it.

What pleasant surprises you've both been having!! Both starting on a new venture(s)...Stacey, does your new house have a submarine galley kitchen too? I've been bitching about mine for 9 years, but the prospect of moving suddenly makes it sentimental. I keep looking around and saying, "That's where L. took her first steps! This is the room they were conceived in!" (NOT the galley) Like this house has our very essence in it. I can't help but think that our energy will remain if we leave, and that it ill enhance the well-being of the next owner. For all its shortcomings, I suspect it will always be the most special place we've ever lived.

I think my first house will be my last - I'll never let go of it again. I grew up in partly in a large colonial house, and partly on my grandfather's farm with all that space - living in a flat (because to buy a small house here in Switzerland costs about 3 million Sfr . . . ) really gets my ar$e. One earns so much money, but the quality of life as far as space and freedom are concerned, is SO much lower than in my third world home country.

My exams are still going well. Unfortunately I'm suicidal, which is bad. Starting to worry. The music went well last Sunday. I sang "More Than Words" by Extreme, and "Right Here Waiting" by Richard Marks. This week I've been singing "Wonderful Tonight", by Eric Clapton. I decided it might be interesting to learn to play it, so I did. It was surprisingly easy, even though I don't have a copy of the music to listen practice with. Pieced it together from memory. I can't remember the bridge, though, o I'll have to nick someone's CD. Went down to the beach tonight. Am depressed as fuck. Started to write to a friend, but got annoyed with self-pity. Came home. Drank a litre of orange juice and then decided to come here. I'm my own worst enemy at the moment. Don't seem to be able to do anything right for anyone at the moment. I do things for them, they don't care. I offer them places to live, they turn them down. I buy them gifts, they accept them with hardly a word. Shite. Today was Cake Day, where our housemate Christine comes home from work laden with cakes from the bakery. A particularly huge haul today, and much of it still sits on the kitchen floor. Great cakes. Still fucked up over here, though.

sorry to hear you so bummed, Mike... better watch it or you'll turn out like me...

I'm trembling in my clothes at the very thought . . . Oh, Mike, I'm sorry you feel like this. I wish Jim would come back, because he is the one with the inspiring words. And I'm afraid I am the last person who can give you advice where depression is concerned, and how to deal with it. My way is a little unorthodox . . . I am sorry you feel unappreciated and without love - that would depress me too. You seem like a very generous, caring person - easy to rely on, and easy to use. Don't let that happen. There is, I think, a difference between between loving one's neighbour and allowing oneself to be stepped on. No-one deserves that, and you probably less than some. Care, but never stop treating yourself with the respect you deserve. Don't deny your own feelings. Don't hate yourself. Sometimes when I read that one of our friends here are having a difficult time, I so wish we all lived in the same town. That way we'd be able to organize an emergence meeting in my living room every time one of us needed it, and we'd really be able to help one another, instead of having to type a bunch of words into a dumb computer. Words aren't worth half as much as a hug (Teletubbies style!!) and the warm presence of friends who truly care. But if you get desperate, let me know - we're practically neighbours, so feel free to pop across and visit me whenever you like. You are probably also just in desperate need of a break with all this exam stress - it has been going on for weeks and weeks, and that's enough to drain anyone's energy and lust for life. Besides, the number of long faces here is enough to bring anyone to laughter!! But I am serious - I'm not just a written paragraph on your computer; you are my friend, and I am here for you, unable to give good advice, but willing to listen, and willing to help in any way I can. Just want you to know that.

Same here. We mean more than words on a screen to each other.

Mikey!!!! *big hug* wish I knew more about you, so I could suggest a course of action... or even what's getting you down, so we could talk about it. PLEEEEEAAAAAAAASE don't say it's this girl thing. Never, ever worth it! Besides, if your fond of someone and would be interested in a more intimate relationship, you have to make yourself look and feel as good as you are... not superficially, but attitude wise. If a hug will help (and they usually do), here is one big one coming throught he electronic ether... *HUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUG* If a run or a scream or a yell or a really auful rendition of a melancholy song would be helpful... I've got the song part covered! hope things improve soon! Remember that sometimes in the depths of a great depression, there is great opportunity for growth!

I have something to share - something which caused me intense amusement today. I have this friend who also has a girl. She is determined not to let this child grow up with the gender thing. Only buys her what she calls, 'uni-sex toys', because she believes that if girls act girlish at the age of three, it's due to a sexist upbringing. We've argued about this a thousand times, but in the end I decided to respect her principles. Anyway, so the little girl had her birthday last Saturday, and I had Mr. C. take the girls and a present around to the party (I was already sick then). T e toy I sent was a plastic toolbox - a kind of 'Home Improvement' set for kiddies - thought it uni-sex enough. Today my friend rang up, furious, because Alexandra has started putting the little hammer to bed at night! I thought it was hilariously sweet.

*lol*

guess there might just be something to that!

Got to be. Without teaching them it, my girls always walk around with their winter stockings over their little heads, flinging the legs demonstratively over their shoulders, pretending it's their long hair . . . So, Stacey, are you in the new house now? The box nightmare over yet? What's it like?

Yes and almost yes and amazing. Beautiful hardwood floors is perfect original condition (previously covered in carpet for forty years). All window sills and moldings are left their natural shade as well. A 6 1/2 foot by 4 foot window in the front room. Coved ceilings, original fixtures, crome and while porcelin tile bath (with great water pressure!), crome and white and slate blue kitchen (big enough to tango, bunny hop and merengue in!), fabulous sycamore trees in the front, grand total of nine raspberry bushes in the back and side. Co ered patio/plant room. Sunny, bright, just really comfortable yet roomy feeling. The straight logistics are... 1400 finished sq feet upstairs, 1000 finished sq feet downstairs (basement), two car detached garage, two bath, four bedroom house. I ripped down the drape hanger thingamajigs last night and had to spackle and repaint the holes that were left but it looks MUCH better without those contraptions. I took the drapes down IMMEDIATELY. I hate drapes. They are the natural enemies of bright light in a home. The remind me of coldness, dark, melancholy... they do not belong. All is mostly unpacked and Brandon comes home tomorrow night, one hour after his brother arrives to be our first house guest! Most of my time is being spent in the gardens, planting, turning soil, weeding, making mud pies! I love to work/play in the flowers!

Yes and almost yes and amazing. Beautiful hardwood floors is perfect original condition (previously covered in carpet for forty years). All window sills and moldings are left their natural shade as well. A 6 1/2 foot by 4 foot window in the front room. Coved ceilings, original fixtures, crome and while porcelin tile bath (with great water pressure!), crome and white and slate blue kitchen (big enough to tango, bunny hop and merengue in!), fabulous sycamore trees in the front, grand total of nine raspberry bushes in the back and side. Co ered patio/plant room. Sunny, bright, just really comfortable yet roomy feeling. The straight logistics are... 1400 finished sq feet upstairs, 1000 finished sq feet downstairs (basement), two car detached garage, two bath, four bedroom house. I ripped down the drape hanger thingamajigs last night and had to spackle and repaint the holes that were left but it looks MUCH better without those contraptions. I took the drapes down IMMEDIATELY. I hate drapes. They are the natural enemies of bright light in a home. The remind me of coldness, dark, melancholy... they do not belong. All is mostly unpacked and Brandon comes home tomorrow night, one hour after his brother arrives to be our first house guest! Most of my time is being spent in the gardens, planting, turning soil, weeding, making mud pies! I love to work/play in the flowers! The garden would have to be one of my favorite places (at least third according to my 'travel' post! *smile*)

oops! I guess I pushed 'stop' a bit too late to halt the first response!

That does sound amazing. And I agree with your drape-horrification. I haven't a single drape in my place either. My mother out-law thinks I'm the ultimate un-wife for it, but she's as cold and dark and dreary as a drape anyway, so it merely proves my point. You have a nice garden too? That's the most amazing thing for me about living in a country where it rains - the gardens actually have flowers and trees in them!

got to share this... I have a student in my ESY class who is wheelchair bound, fed through a g-tube and has no muscular coordination whatsoever. SOMEtimes, I think I can get his eyes to follow me, but rarely. Well today we were all in a large group discussion, I always ask him questions with the other kids and include him in on our lessons because who really knows what is going on in that brain?!?! Well today, I asked if he was okay, "how ya doing H? You okay?" And he SAID, "ya." I was floored, the kids were floored. Was this just a coincidental non-verbal (merely vocal) utterance or had H responded to me? I said, "Hello there H!" He said, "HI." Plain as f-ing day! I lost it! Laughing and telling him he was a faker, and that we had all been snowed. His eyes rolled around and he got a big smile on his face! I'm just SO excited! He is so severely limited that to be able to communicate in even yes-no fashion is like a whole different world! *beaming*

Major beams there Stace, I can feel what you're feeling about this. Wow, what a breakthrough.

simply incredible (congrats)

still beaming... (thanks guys, somehow I think you really do know exactly how I feel about this!)

and nick... it's kinda like believing in the power of magic! *smile*

yep (good to hear you say so)

stacey that is amazing. see, he heard you the whole time! big hugs to you and mr H. mikeg: dude, *squeeze* hang in there. you know we're all cramming right along with you! so this is supposed to be, like, a diary. well, i've tried to keep journals but my life is so utterly boring that even i can't bring myself to write about it. (actually, not boring, but, not exciting) hi nick *smile*

hi *dumb grimace* (uh right... don't ask)

i'll ask......you not happy to see me? *wink*

no, that's not it (just my usual... you know, facial expression thing... how i meet the world, you know?)

careful cuz it can send the wrong message....so, how the heck have you been?

really well, all in all... um... actually, excellent... et tu?

not really, but thanks for asking. glad you're happy and not so bummed out anymore!

"bummed out"???? (ME?) why... i'm afraid i don't know what you mean... (must be all that sun)...

oh, was that what it was?

could be... or maybe your heads all clouded up from all those bedouin sheik fantasies you've likely brought back... (or shepherd fantasies... or uh something)...

let's just say fantasies (trust me, no shieks were involved)

will you be here tomorrow sometime? i'm sleepy, but would love to stay and chat. let me know....

so rudy valentino can exhale now?

who is rudy valentino? (and if you're referring, maybe, to the status of my, company, i have no visitors this evening)

*sigh* rudy valentino... you know, "the sheik"... silent pictures...

i knew you were going to say that, why, yes, as a matter of fact, he's in the other room, but he keeps having to pull out these cards with what he's thinking on them. hmm, not very romantic......

not to mention the band in the living room, and rudy's, uh, very pale. think i'll send him back.....

anyway, g'night....

my god... can you and- no! -be the same- (no- no, couldn't be)...

Stacey, the work you are doing is the kind of thing that makes a difference to this world and its people. I truly admire that. Not too much happening over here, but the sex is good, and we got the girls little baby guinea pigs - they're totally sweet! The still life is coming on great; my work is showing some clear signs of evolution, and I think it's a positive thing . . . if only it could turn into a reflection of the soul; I swear if my soul looked like my pictures I'd be a babe! But it isn't . . . seems I've scared poor Jim away altogether with my big mouth. Damn!

i'm sure that you have a beautiful soul, riette...too bad not very many people can see beyond what's on the surface. nick: what in the heck are you talking about? (sorry i left so abruptly, but my baby girl wouldn't leave the mama alone, supposedly she couldn't sleep cuz i was awake-the things they do to try and stay up)

fuckin' hell. do you reckon i can let it out here? i hate to swear. fuck fuck shit bollocks shit shit fuck. this post is a scroll-through for those of you who can't cope/don't care; don't feel bad, just press PgDn. stream of consciousness On. i'm a mess. an absolute mess. i sit in this room, and i wonder about what on earth is happening to me. where the hell am i going? why the hell am i so ugly? why doesn't anybody care? well, why should they bloody care? i'm jack shit to them. except i feel like i should be something. somebody. i feel as if i make an effort; that i'm worth at least a thought - hell, maybe even a phone call. alas, no. and the irony is that i haven't even got anyone to tell. the way i feel makes me so insecure that can't tell anyone how i feel to get some security back; some encouragement. bah. encouragement is bunk. a million people could tell me i was the greatest thing that ever fucking lived, but if i didn't get a single phone call it wouldn't mean anything. and so i'm here. an invisible person with the invisible people. as an invisible person whose only solidity is the words on the screen. yet they are only bits and bytes of data; electrical impulses in a cable; magnetic orientations on a platter. is this what i am reduced to? electricity and magnetism; always my least favourite subject in physics, as it happens. not that i want to belittle you all here. far from it. i received more support from the past postings that i've just read than from anywhere else. maybe the physial barrier of distance allows me to open up more than i would otherwise. haven't psychologists shown that? easier to be yourself in a letter, than a phone call or a f2f meeting; even easier, one would guess, to be one's self in a letter to people never met. so you're there, perhaps, reading this. probably wondering what the fuck is going o . and i'm getting fed up with making corrections in my typing. i can type at 148 words per minute, but i'm reduced to two-finger tappity-tap because i broke my finger. some things never change. the only things i can play on the guitar at the moment are minor chords and suspended chords. none of them record the happiest sound. that's probably not helping. music has always been the escape before. would it be this time? probably not, actually. I'd just sit around and play minor chords any way. I scored 44/100 on a depression test. 0 is perfectly normal, and i guess 100 is swinging from the rafters by your belt. it suggested that i go and see my doctor about it: "they can do great things with drugs these days". yeah, right. "You don't know me, Doc, but i've fucked up my life. Will you pump me full of Prozac, please?". the other score of the last fortnight was 147 on an IQ test. depressed brainy person; or, in the immortal words of my favourite comedian, "you fucked up ridiculum". Fucked up. Ridiculous. With a superb wardrobe, a natty hair-do, great shoes, broad shoulders, blonde hair. what the fuck is so wrong with me. i've even tried the "internal smiling" business, where it's not just a front, but i really do smile inside. i've even been deliriously happy. nothing works. i'm fundamentally unlovable, unlikeabl , un-look-at-able, and that last one's not even a word. if you've got this far without getting bored or dying of depression yourself, you're wondering what the fuck has caused all of this. well, your guess is as good as mine. being walked over, maybe. ignored, probably. uncherished? cherish is too strong a word. uncared about? care is too strong, again. un-give-a-fuck-about-ed? that's a bit closer to it. no-one gives a fuck. well, that's not true. the standard people give a fuck: parents, sister etc., but no-one who *mattters*. i know, i know, tha 's wrong; those people are the most important people to care, but that's not how it feels. Are they obliged to? Well, perhaps. A mother is perhaps obliged to love her child, but that's missing the point. the point being that i don't have to *earn* it with her. with other people i do have to earn it, and despite all my trying, i've fallen flat fuck on my face. some things are so fine. my exams went pretty well, my future is fairly sorted out whatever happens with my degree. in so many areas i have nothing to worry about. yet i don't have anyone to share that with. i bought a new computer game on saturday (it was that or more wardrobe-stuff, and i decided i didn't need *more* clothes), and it's really cool. really really cool. but i haven't told anyone about it, because there's no-one to tell. it just stays inside me, along with everything else, bubbling p and boiling and going nowhere. it won't even explode. i seem to be emotionless, apart from this incredible emptiness. it's like when you're staring death in the face and all panic leaves you; or when the body gets so hypothermic that it stops shivering. :i'm sure that you have a beautiful soul, riette...too bad not very many people :can see beyond what's on the surface. oh fuck, too right, Wolf. do i have a beautiful soul? bah. unanswerable question, and i've got enough of those as it is. am i looking for affirmation? no, not really, i guess. like i already wrote, there's affirmation and there's affirmation. the only affirmation that will mean anything is if the phone rings and one of the four thousand women who i am perfectly in love with decide that i'm great. or at least not shit. and yet i'm so ungrateful. my housemate phones me up when he's at home. he care . he phoned tonight. ungrateful bastard that i am. but i guess that's because i don't *really* matter. there are far more important people/things for him. not that i resent being x+1 on his list, because i don't. but i'm no-one's "Significant Other"; in any sense of the phrase. i just ain't. i'm like a business that's going down the tubes. a "negative spiral", or whatever. i'm caught up in a nostalgia-circle, churning up the same old shit in my brain, and all the new investors are getting cold feet and putting their capital elsewhere. unless there's some major fucking turn-around, the only way out is to be "liquidated" and re-established; either that or liquidated and chucked on the scrap heap. fuck, what a mess i am. what a mess.

so that's what's got you down? you're right. you don't mean anything to me because I don't even know who the hell you are. but if you think for one minute that you're ugly, unloveable, and all that, well, maybe you are. but to me, and this won't mean anything to you, i think you are the opposite of all that. you have a beautiful soul too, so don't be afraid to let it out. and don't let anyone else be the designer of who you are, don't let them influence you. if they can't handle you because of who ou are, you don't need them. and i know how lonely that feels, i'm sometimes afraid to be who i really am. and none of this will help because am i in your shoes? no. but thanks for feeling safe to let all this out here to us strangers. *hug*

hey mike... really sorry to hear you feeling like this... you're a decent guy... just need to find some perspective, maybe... and- well, it's like... i dunno, a lot of the things you've written before had some effect on me... really admired the way you've stood up for what you believed in (i often don't have that kind of courage)... i'm a christian, too... and find it hard sometimes defending my faith, among those that question it... makes me feel bad, sometimes... remember a scripture where jesus said something like 'how can you expect me to intercede for you with god when you don't stand up for me among men?' not a pleasing question for me to answer, but one you certainly won't face... anyway, faith's the thing (maybe the only thing) that can get you through these kind of feelings.. pulling for you, you know?

Mike, I'm a smart girl. I know the difference between real threats and the monsters in my head. But one day the monsters in my head came out and started line-dancing before my very eyes. I was involved in a relationship that meant a lot to me, perhaps too much. I spent all my time giving to this 'entity' and another person that when something went wrong in that department, I had nothing else to define me but a dying relationship and a everdistancing best friend. I desperately wanted to matter to someone, I desperately wanted to have that beautiful opinion of myself that everyone else seemed to have of me. Mike, I did a lot of... searching I suppose is what it was. I rode my bike, ran, cried, wrote. I sat blankly in front of reality if I needed to, but never without many strangers surrounding me. I talked alot. I talked to strangers (face to face even!), I talked to myself, I talked to the birds and squirrels I saw along the trail. I am not unfamiliar with depression, my father was clinically depressed and on medication for 10 years... when it was NOT a socially acceptable disease. My baby brother became suicidal at age 15... We all get down from time to time, this sounds more severe. Because I was aware how far depression can drag someone below the surface of reality, I never let myself get that far. I called a shrink. I took myself to the shrink. I talked her ear off. I wished all the while that I could depend on a friend to vent my 'troubles' to but I knew that I was beyond that and was only bringing them down. My therapist never got a chance to psychoanalyze me... well not a chance to share the results anyway... she asked me to write a one page essay on who I was. I brought in the most contradictary prose I had ever written, every last word of it true... suddenly I began to see the complexity of my own soul, appreciate it's worth and desire to see the light at the end of the tunnel again. When you love so deeply, completely and passionately, it is very easy to become overwhelmed by your emotions. This is often a good thing. But... when you put your self worth in the hands of others, when you make your worth dependent on the reactions of others... you are bound to get crushed, dropped and/or mistreated. Put your love where it wants to be and let it free, allow the love and capacity for such to define who you are... not anyone's reaction to it. Mike, you are hurt and you are worth fixing... please help to fix yourself because no else is or even can do it. Much affection and good vibes coming your way!

brava

as much as I forget it, and at times can't even admit it, what Stacey said is right...

another thought: you might want to try doing nothing and just being, 'cause you are thinking too much (Stacey can probably explain this better than I, too)

an influential friend once said that: "You know your problem, Mike? You think too much." Thank you all for what you have written. i have started to realise that i am fucked up, real bad. gonna go out and find someone to help deal with it tomorrow. for now i'm just going to try and cry my eyes out, and my heart out. maybe thast will help

'tis a good thing to get help, Mike, otherwise you might end up as screwed up as I am, and that's really scary...

i agree with wer/stacey/nick...once, my therapist said what are you? a human doing or a human being....i have clung to that...don't wait until tomorrow, my friend, call someone today....we are here for you and listen, we've got similar stories to tell, sweetie, big hugs, oh, and a peck on the cheek, k? no teeth!

no teeth? :-) i would call someone now, but it's 1.15 am (and not 2036)

what? there's no one on call 24/7? (don't we look pretty good to be in the year 2036?)

i could phone up nightline at the university, but they'd probably fob me off with a packet of condoms, a dental dam and a latex glove.

there's that humor! you guys don't have a crisis line or something? what about your mom? (i won't be offended if you say heck no, i tried talking to mine, but since then, we haven't spoken for several years)

i am afraid.

of?

i am afraid.

ok. do you want to talk about it?

i am afraid.

Mike?

bloody hell. netscape is going crazy. i am afraid of admitting that i have a problem. problems. i'm looking at the samaritan's web site, and all i have to do is lift the phone and dial the number, but....how the hell will i do that?

pick it up, dial the number. you have already admitted it and to the person who matters the most. you, my dear.

i look like mr melodrama after those two extra "i'm afraid"'s :-)) plonker.

no, figured there was a gliche in the system. did you call?

the problem is, i'd feel nervous picking up the phone to dial for a pizza, let alone admitting that i'm barking mad.

that's alright. i get nervous dialing for a pizza too, like what, they're gonna ask me something really hard-what's the square root of the cosine to a trillion and seventy-five. you have thirty seconds to answer.

and i hate the phone. it's the most artificial of all media.

and this isn't? *grin* no faces...just a screen, with, hopefully, someone half-way intelligent on the other end...

i just hate the phone. it's an irrational fear. which is probably caught up in all this other crap which is packing me off to the funny farm.

now, stop that. it's not irrational and i don't think it means you're nuts. irrationality is something applied when viewed by someone else. you're the one who feels it so isn't it valid?

good point. i've decided to try their e-mail address, but putting down why i'm a banana-plantation doesn't seem to be easy.

no it's never easy. but it gets easier. (and i'm glad you're gonna try)

good point. i've decided to try their e-mail address, but putting down why i'm a banana-plantation doesn't seem to be easy.

i had no idea this would be so difficult. maybe i should just send them my stream of consciousness from before.

just tell them stuff you've told us. perhaps they can refer you to someone local....

and i'm proud of you for trying, and admitting, you are very brave, you know that?

Hey Mike... *laughing* I've got to admit it... with the sequential "I am afraid" posts... I was becoming... well... afraid myself! I picked up the phone today (overcoming a considerable amount of nervousness...) and called Brandon's estranged half sister (also named Stacey). I am tired of hearing how he would like to get in touch with her, have a relationship with her, blah, blah, blah... but he never picks up the phone, sends an email or a card. I know it is none of my business but, in all honesty, I was hoping that turn about would continue to be fair play and someone would do the same to my baby brother who I have VERY little contact with. We had a nice (superficial and short) chat. I am sending her a packet of pictures and every fathomable way to contact us... I hope something good comes of all this. Sending more hugs and good vibes your way Mike!

that was really, like, bold, Stacey...are you sure he's ready? i'm estranged from my parents and my husband has a wonderful relationship with them. it makes me mad because i feel betrayed (yes, that's selfish of me, but...)

i worry a tad about his reaction but... the estrangement comes from his NON-relationship with his mother... NOT from any bad mojo between the two siblings. Now that his sister is away from his biological mother... MUCH less stress. He needs prompting, always has. This is the same way he become reconnected with his grandfather... yes, I am a meddler... with the best of intentions.

nothing wrong with that, really...my estrangement comes from long ago stuff that i went to therapy for and was able to face. Mr Wolf just doesn't understand how it makes me feel for him to call and chat. And he won't even talk to his own dad. (ok, he hasn't talked to my parents in a while)

oh.. to be like a cat. Tahja is stalking and chasing a piglet Beanie Baby around the basement with a crumpled up piece of newspaper covering her head and half her body. She is having a fabulous time, mewling and purring and running into things! (this is taking me forever to type because I keep stopping to watch, laugh and tease!) I suppose an instance like this it what gives cats a reputation for being theraputic!

So are the little guinea-pigs. They're just so incredibly sweet - I can't stop cuddling them. It's been years since I had pets, and I only realize now how much I've missed it.

package that cut up and send it over here :-) if there's one thing i can't resist, it's a kitty. no therapy for me. i decided that it was probably a fiscal mistake to pay 40 pounds an hour for someone to tell me i'm a fruit - I already know that. i sent a stupid letter to someone, which should have arrived today. fill that empty space with stuff that's guaranteed to hurt. well, when you're down you might as well make sure someone's kickin' ya. (i'm having thoughts and just typing them, again) if i stopped being the bread-basket that I am, I'd stop being me. or i'd change into a new me. is that appealing? partly, i guess. maybe it would be a better me. dunno if i can answer that question. i find it a strange idea to think that the way i feel inside could change. i've felt the way i do for *so* long...like, forever, i guess, so the question of whether change is appealing is moot: it's incomprehensible, and improbable. i've now eaten a proper meal for the last four nights in a row, which is a record for the last month probably. i might be depressed, but i can't be that bad. but i am. or was. last night must have been a bit of a watershed or something; not the lowest i'll go, i doubt. DIFFERENT THERAPY TECHNIQUE. ALL CAPS. no, that didn't work. all lower case is nice - makes me feel very discreet; like one of those pocket vibrators disguised as a lipstick. why the hell do people carry those anyway? quick one in the toilet, between acts at the opera? that's like no woman i've ever met. what the hell are these things marketed for? have they ever sold one? barkin'. maybe i could consult for them. i had coffee today. and then a nice caffeine rush which made my head spin like crazy. it's definitely caffeine that's causing those, which is a relief. thirty seconds into my first exam last month, and the room decided to spin like mad; i thought, "here we go". i have been experimenting with the chords that i can play. i have managed to find something vaguely hapy, or at least intriguing, which makes me happy. i'm going to see a posh doctor tomorrow; hopefully as we're throwing him a fortune, he won't grin at me nicely and tell me to get on with leaving it to heal. don't they realise how *important* my hands are to me?? alien therapy has been one that i've neglected. gotta go squeeze mergle so that he lighs up and talks; always makes me grin. cue mergle: The claw is my MASTER i have been CHOSEN! OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO................. neat. ramble ramble ramble. this is good therapy, actually. like writing in my diary, but without the headfuck of no-one ever reading that. last night was the first time i'd ever shared those feelings. with anyone. which is fairly big for me, seeing as i've still got diaries from like four or five years ago, and can remember what happened on particular days, in ridiculous detail. i dobut i'll remember much of last night's, though; it was like a temporary insanity. insanity is too strong a word. madness? well, i'm barkin' anyway, so that doesn't count. i was wired to the moon. that's a good description. if my fingers had been working it probably would have lasted forever. writing without thought. except it's like thinking. it's thinking without the thought process interrupting, trying to compartmentalise things, to rationalise, to paragraph them, even. just hit the return key when you feel the need. i cut my nails today, which made me feel loads better. yes, yes, i know i'm bonkers. interesting fact: the nails on the hand with the broken finger were significantly shorter than those on the other hand. inriguing. i'm sure there's some dry, biological, scientific explanation for it. hell, i probably know it. but there's something nice in not thinking and just going "hey, that's cool.". return key again. i didn't even think about it that time. didn't even occur to me. natural reaction. maybe it was the speech marks. i'd better get these fingers healed soon, because this typing is driving me round the twist. i fancy more coffee. but it'll keep me up late. yay! i get to go on the express train to london, tomorrow, which is always fun. probably best not to have a gin and tonic before i go to the clinic, though, even if they are just checking my hands. best to stick with a soft dr nk. i love it. this train of thought business is so relaxing. i'm just here, rambling, talking crap. it's great. i'm sure it pisses you all off. maybe i need my own topic? how about my own conference, to which i invite no-one but myself. hehehe :) great. time to press the "Submit response" button.

bark all you want (and keep wired to the moon)... (and when you figure out those pocket vibrators let me know okay?) think you're gonna be alright... (and... anyway... like emily said- "much madness is divinest sense"... hell, that's my credo)

hmmm, a pocket vibrator, huh? know anywhere i could get one of those? *wink* don't worry about rambling, heck, i do it all the time (not that that makes you feel any better). besides, that's when the best ideas come to light, you know, free of the conventionalism of order and junk. glad to see you back *hug* nick: hi, sorry for running off (again)

can't figure out why anyone wants their pocket to vibrate...

*heehee*

Well, muffin, if you were to walk up to a girl with a vibrating pocket she'll know just how flexible and whippy that spatula of yours is! Mike, this topic was created by a professional rambler, so don't stop. AND DON'T CHANGE PS: I also loved Toy Story - especially tHAT bit!!!

weee....i might open a new topic called "mike's fucked-up brain/life". i think that life might sound a bit piteous, though, so i'll probably go with brain. if indeed i open it; there's something about a particular topic that makes it "sacred", i find. you gradually become more and more confident in posting as you grow to "know" the topic. bah, whatever. it's only words, after all. i went to see a hand surgeon today, in a posh private hospital just off Harley Street in London. if you don't know anything about the UK, then Harley Street is the place where all of the top geezers hang out and practice their alchemic trades. the surgeon gave me lots of advice on how to treat my finger, what to do with etc. it seem that if i had followed the advice of the previous people i had seen, then i would have lost probably 50% of the motion in my finger, which would have been my musical career (of any description) out of the window. thank goodness for medical insurance. i thought of something which made me feel all wobbly today. i remembered the time that i properly proposed to my erstwhile fiancee. getting two minutes at the end of our church youth group, trotting over to my coat and getting the ring out of it. then, popping back over to Louise, dropping down upon bendeth knee, and just doing the business. great. i'm one of those romantics who make you want to puke. if i'd have stopped to think for five minutes, and really been honest with myself, then maybe she a d i would still be together. impulsive prat, that's me. oh well. what would life be without mike being a dick and messing stuff up? people keep popping back into my brain just recently, which is probably a sign that there's a space not being filled by new stuff. caught in a nostalgia circle. did i write that here or in my diary? can't remember. blimey, i can't even remember what i posted last time. that's the fun of doing this - i've no idea what's going to come out until it appears on the screen. on the up-side, i can type again. i went to see the doctor, as i think i said, and he said that i should really start exercising it gain. it's phenomenally weak, and i've got a lot of motion to regain, but it's great being able to get my words out again. it was lovely being treated like a person at the hospital. a person with an injury, not a statistic holding up the next statistic in the queue. great. my father and i spoke to each other today. that makes it sound more dramatic than it was. we talk all the time, but never about real stuff; we talkk about the weather, about sport, about what i need etc., but not about real stuff. just something he's not very...good at, i guess. but today we spoke about some cool stuff, which was nice. it was good to get up to london, today. puts things in even more of a perspective. there are so many people there that *somebody* has to fancy you ;)

Mike, you sound very, very lonely. (sigh) I think most of us can relate - please keep believing that. You know, finding the person of your dreams is no guarantee that this depression and loneliness is going to go away. Sometimes finding that person can indeed make a lingering depression far, far worse, stupid as this may sound. You see, if you find someone with whom you can be perfectly at ease, and feeling, all the things that have been bottled up for years, things you might not even be aware of, are set free, and they come rushing into your heart and mind and gushing out of your eyes and lips and your every action in terrible fits of anger and dispair. I know. I very very nearly drove my loved-one away with my black anger and ugly fears, simply because they all descended upon me from every possible side at a time when I least expected it, they caught me unawares when I was supposed to be happy, and I had no idea how to deal with them. All my life I fought to get away from the things that bred these terrors inside my head, and then it dawned upon me that neither time, nor space, nor all the love in t e world was going to take it away. I was terrified. And though one thinks the person who loves us should be capable of helping, and that they MUST help us, because they love us, they aren't. Because they don't, they CAN'T know where it all comes from, they might listen as hard as they can, but still they will not be able to put themselves in our position, they have pasts and skeletons of their own to deal with. And then, because they love us so much, they think it is aimed against them. It is inevita le for us to project our deepest feelings onto those who are closest to us, because we want them (not even consciously alot of the time) to share, to feel our feelings. And that's what isn't fair about it. They experience it as angers towards THEM, fear towards THEM, dispair because of THEM. Do you know what I am trying to say? Solve the cause, not the outcome of the problem before you give yourself to another. Only that way will you be able to share it in such a way that she will be able to support you, and only that way will you be able to support her and make her happy too, despite past hurts. I am sorry, my advice is never good, but it is sent your way with much love.

your advice is always good, since it is advice. everyone's advice has been good in one way or another.

How are you feeling now, Mike? Oh, and to all our friends from America. HAPPY 4TH OF JULY!!!!!!!

well, i'm ok. which is good. i'm fairly up and down i guess, so while i'm happy now, in a few days i perhaps won't be. dunno. i'll just keep on checking in here and spewing my guts when i need to. thanks for being here.

Always

Wow, you really miss a lot when you take a vacation around here! I will add my concern to that expressed by the others, Mike, and hope you will do what you must to take care of yourself. Once you accept the special person you are, others will see it too because it will come from within, not from clothes, hairstyle, whatever. Hope your finger will recover soon, I always loved "Wonderful Tonight" (or anything by Eric clapton, for that matter).

Eric Clapton is a great guitarist. The little guinea piggies are really sweet. For some reason they love sitting on my shoulders, under my hair - it looks very funny with just their little white noses sticking out. SWEET! Still life has only four or five days' work ahead now . . . getting excited!

hi autumn... (glad to see you're back)... (ditto re: clapton... Absolute Greatest, in my book)...

shiiiitte. just had something like a major kick in the guts. i'm packing up my room at the moment, as i am moving house tomorrow. i was going through a box of stuff, chucking out the rubbish in it etc., and I came across a cartooon book called "I Love You", given to me by my former fiancee. i looked at the inscription in the front cover, and it nearly made me blub my face off. however, composure reigned supreme, and i just put it aside and carried on with the box emptying. the very next thing i came across was letter from her; one of scores and scores that i've got. for whatever reason, i decided to open it, and lo and behold it's the letter she sent the day after we split up. talk about reversing the emotion. i'm liked, gutted at the moment. what the hell do you do when you love someone for nearly ten years and you've come right round to end up in your starting place?

guess you just start over *hug*

there's only one thing worse than being depressed. it's being depressed, having somewhere to talk about it, typing in a whole load of exactly how you feel, and then losing it because netscape throws a wobbly. now i'm cheered right up. i'm on the floor, Ladies and Gentlemen, and remaining here for quite a while - possibly the whole summer! Let me hear a round of applause, yes, yes, thankyou, thankyou! would anybody mind if i just topped myself now?

i can't let go. of a lot of things. of hundreds of things. so i'm going to post them all here, as and when i think of them, in the hope that it'll be some form of exorcism. once again, this is a guilt-free PgDn situation for everyone. i can't let go of a score of girlfriends. people who i went out with years and years ago, for usually small periods. times that are inconsequential, and with people who probably don't even remember me. and now i'm going to name them. Helen. Sarah. Oh fuck yes, Sarah. Emma. Emma and the guilt. Louise. Louise and the immense guilt! how much guilt can one person feel? how badly can one person fuck up? how can one person fuck up a perfect God-given gift? and these are the things that are keeping me sane at the moment. if i let go of them, what the hell will i fill my brain with? there's no input at the moment. nothing to fill the space that giving up these things would leave. and so i hang on, and in some perverse way, they keep me sane. sanity through insanity. what the hell is that about? i know that if these things go, then i'll go right out of my mind, get locked up and they'll throw away the key. left in a padded room for the rest of my life, till wrestling with this crap, but without the opportunity to ever deal with it. gotta stay sane. mustn't go mad. what else can't i let go of. past successes. in anything. the fact that i screwed up my 18+ exams, when i should have waltzed through about five of them. the fact that i never live up to my potential. the fact that, although i thought i was so different, i'm just like my brother, who is one of the biggest tossers alive. i'm afraid of what the world demands of me. i'm getting older every day, and i'm not coping at the moment, so what the fuck will it be like in five years? i'm already suffering at the hands of my memory, of nostalgia, of being caught in some vicious downward spiral of self-pity. unable to claw my way back up. just grabbing onto the thing that's taking me down, because without it i'd fall even faster. i'm fucked. that's what it is. i'm totally and absolutely fucked. all that stuff with my mother. ll that stuff as a child. that's why i'm fucked. how can i get un-fucked?

for starters, mike, you can let go. i know this story that i think of when i feel this way. there was a man hanging on the edge of a cliff. he begged God to help him. God said, "Let go." the man argued that if he let go he would fall to his death. God simply said again, "Let go." But the man didn't want to listen thinking for sure that he would just die if he let go. Finally, God said again, "Let Go!" the man let go and landed on his feet. he only had a foot to drop. you see? though it isn't easy, fear always makes things harder, but once you let go of those things, you will allow yourself to be free to find all the things you want. no, you won't lose the memory. and think of them as stepping stones, not failures or where you f'ed up. you did the best you could in each situation with the knowledge you had at the time. so, next time, don't do it again, huh? *hug*

Well put, Wolf! Those are wise words, Mike, though easier said than done...

And we understand. Letting go is a very hard thing to do. And don't ever think you're like you're brother or any other tosser alive. You are Mike. Just that, no-one and nothing else. And if you don't always live up to your own standards (which I imagine must be incredibly high), it is because you are human, not because you're a bad person or weak or anything like that. We all miss wonderful chances in our lives, but we also TAKE wonderful chances from time to time, and that we must never let slip ou of our sight. And, Mike, I go to England fairly often, and one thing I've noticed about that country, is the fact that ALL the girls there are like ten thousand times more attractive than me, so . . . . . . . you're SURROUNDED by beautiful women, Mike. Just keep those bright eyes wide open, and choose the one you want. (Have been to your home page, you see, and I've seen for myself that you're not the kind of chap alot of women would say no to . . . �wicked smile�). But first you'll have to let go o Helen and Louise etc. of course . ..

The letting go story... I actually heard it a bit differently... A man hanging from a branch dangling over a cliff... "is there anyone up there? God? Please help me!" God says, "Let go." The man says, "Help me, please!!" God says, "Let go." The man, sweat pouring down his brow, looks up and says... "Is there anyone ELSE up there?" (mike, it's hard to let go... we all understand that) (glad to see the stream of consciousness writings work for someone other than myself!)

(lol)

Nick! What a pleasant surprise!!! Where have you been, what have you been doing? Come, this is the place to tell it all!

well, i'm moved in to my new house. a new room. same old me. same old problems. ahha...big laughs all round. i wrote to louise last week some time - did I tell you that? today i got the reply; i received it this morning, but i didn't think i could face reading it, as i had loads to do, so i just put it away. this evening, i braced myself for opening it and what was the point? none :) it was a one page thing, with very little about what i said or anything. but what the hell was i expecting? no idea. i guess i'm just upset, and grasping for any straws that are there. i am scared. so, so scared. tears. i can feel stears. i'm now typing this with my eyes shut. prayer and typing. can't say i've ever tried that before. please excuse any mistakes -0 i'm not looking. i feel like a broken, small, tiny child. oh God, take this away. please take it away. make it go. mercy.

hey mike, *hug*, what's happened? what did louise say? NOMB, I know, but.... stacey: lol!!!

a friend told me to let God break me, and you all told me to let God catch me. i'm doing both. it might be working. tears are good.

Don't be scared, Mike. Keep your expectations lowered and you'll be pleasantly surprised.

God never closes a door without opening a window (i know, a cliche) but it's true, you just gotta move some curtains to find it. God will break you but He will also put you back together. Have you ever heard of a test of faith? And you know the story about the footprints in the sand, right? Don't think He has forgotten you....and yes, tears are good no matter what anybody says!

Open your eyes, Mike. No, not your eyes, but the eyes that SEE. Forget Louise, forget Helen, forget ALL of them. Or don't forget, just let them go - try it for a little while at least. Revived relationships never work anyway - what they did to you once, they will do to you again, and if you were the one doing it to them you will do it again once the novelty wears off; desperation lies in the desire of something that you can't have. That doesn't mean that something is real - it just looks SO GOOD bec use you can't have it. Open your eyes, KEEP them open, look for something new, something fresh. When you find it (her) it will be so so much better. A whole new kiss, a whole new embrace, a whole new mind and body to explore, to grow with - not some old, stretched and half broken strings picked up from a bad ending in the past. You will be new to her and she to you, and that, I think, is the best start, and the best chance a relationship can have. All the problems you've had with the others, and whic made you split up, will just occur all over again, and put you through a hell that you've been through once before already. Why waste precious time like that?

very good advice. i (heart) riette!

Think I'm blushing, because that's a defenite first for me! Thank you, Ray. How is your fiancee? Have you got the annulment yet?

my sweetie and i are doing quite well. we are just financially strapped right now. she is a college professor and decided not to teach this summer due to burnout, and so we are minus her salary for 3 months. it's been ok so far, but the pinch is really starting to get more apparent. thank God for prozac!!!!!!!

You poor things! I don't know why it has to be bits of paper that makes life so difficult, you know?! It's just so perverse somehow, isn't it? You work your butt off to get x amount of little papers so you can live, and when you're too burnt out to work, you burn yourself out worrying about the little papers!! I seriously think that money is about one of the worst inventions ever!

Oh, and I've just noticed that you hit a round number with your response, so that's the lucky thing about your situation. Hope it brings you good luck.

oh i thnk it will! i am an eternal, diehard optimist and i know that all will be well!

and it will! oh, ratthing, while you're out visiting your topics, you think maybe we oughta, like, put the couch on the back burner and open a new couch topic? (i mean it's only got 6 hundred something responses) that may be a lot for someone new to have to sift through.....

oh, yeah! hosts have to do things like that, don't they??? good idea wolfie, consider it done.

i guess it's time for an update on what's happening. i've just read through the last seven days of postings here, which starts, incidentally at 53. That's 82 postings in seven days, an average of (blurble, whirr) 11.7 or so per day, I think. i'm not sure how many people realised, but the first time I've been able to feel any emotion was just the other day. right when i was posting, which was a bonus for the drama-stats ;) no, it's easy to be flippant, but not right. reading through all of the postings, i feel completely light headed. all of you have shared a massive part of me, and have been here, right with me, right while it's happening. that's never happened to me before. to have people sharing in the creations of my brain is a total first. i am starting to feel better, which i'm sure you'll all be happy to know. i off-loaded a whole lot of stuff on Monday night. it was quite something. but i still have a way to go. i'm worried that i've just buried some stuff under the carpet again, like has happened in the past. but i'm trying not to let that be the case. i'm confronting a lot of the things that upset me; when a thought comes to me that could be upsetting, i sit down and take it apart, or just let it sit there and throb for a while. i'm not hiding from things any more, and i'm feeling healthier for it. but i'm not cured, i don't think. whether i ever will be is an interesting question. i will keep posting here, whether things are going good or going bad; i owe so much to this particular text input box that it would be terrible for me to desert it now. thank you all for what you have done, and for what i hope you will help to do.

Really glad to hear you're feeling a bit better. Thank you for trusting us enough to share your problems. It let's us know that we can share ours with you too when and if it happens. You are a very, very nice person.

that's really cool, mike... (and your brain is a pretty interesting place... what you wrote affected me- everyone that read it, i'm sure- a great deal... and it was an honor, you know?)

mike: *hug* ratthing: thanks!

thanks nick, but you're a little off the mark ;) my brain is a fucked-up place :))

Everybody's is at some time or another, heck, just look at wer (kidding! I am kidding!) Nothing changes overnight but the process will take place and you'll put some of these dark moments behind you. moving to a new place is a good way to start.

LOL!!!

Hey, Mikey, here's a face for you to make when you're feeling down or angry . . . >: ( Like the frown?

i do.....

i know there's something floating out there with all the little character faces, anybody else seen it?

No, but if you see one with a BIG BIG frown, put it here, then everyone will know exactly what I look like after today. I have just had the most incredibly unlucky day today. One disaster after the other. First I somehow managed to break my e-mail. Fine. Then my best friend went on holiday for three weeks, and I'm going to miss her like hell. Fine too. Then I go shopping. As I walk into my kitchen to pack the groceries away, the Coke bottle drops out of my clumsy hands, and explodes all over the place. I wash the entire damned kitchen, but EVERYTHING, just everything is still sticky. So I don't know what to do. Then I decide to make cold tomato and cucumber soup for dinner, because it's so easy to make, nothing can go wrong there, right? Wrong. Here I am, 19:40 in the evening, a ghastly trip to hospital with two very upset kids later, and a right forefinger more or less savaged in the vegetable cutter. It throbs, I feel bloody (ha-ha! at that bit of irony) sorry for myself, and I can't cry, because I don't want Chris to think me a baby. I'm such a moron. BLEEEEUUUUGH! �sticking tongue out at myself while mimicking vomiting noises�

ouch. Perhaps peanut bitter and jelly for dinner (prepared with dull butter knives of course) tonight!

butter... that was supposed to read butter... not bitter. oops.

DAMN! Thought you were talking about a new kind of beer! Peanut beer . . . imagine!!! yum-yum! oh, And ha-ha! Nothing like a bit of dry humor to cheer one up!

peanut beer... interesting there is surely a market for it in the states... if it doesn't exist already. perhaps a substitute to the old baseball faves roasted peanuts and a cheap beer you could just brew the peanut flavor right in and charge 4x the price.

Let's patent it - we could ask our very own chef to help us! How is school?

school is great! I took the kids on a scavanger hunt today... Find something green, something white, something pointy, something soft, something pretty, something wet, something alive (and so on) you cannot imagine how many poor insects were roused from their happy homes today! Tomorrow we are taking a trip to the firestation!

sorry about your finger, riette. it sounds horrid :( your day stacey, sounded lovely :)

i'm sorry about your terrible day, riette. stacey: you teach in a year round school? (what happened to summer vacation?)

Man, what a rough day Riette! How's that finger coming along. Is it functioning ok?

guess she's not having the probs mike was, she must be pretty good at hunt and peck cuz she's not saying a thing about it! *kisses* for the booboo, riette, no, not because it's bloody, us canines have healing tongues, don't you know!

You're a shell user now, wolfie.

GET AWAY FROM MY FINGER, it's been through enough, and no, not functioning at all, and too painful to paint, and so I'm feeling a little cranky. �growl� No, thanks guys for the concern - apart from the finger I'm just fine. Going to the merry-go-around again tomorrow, so I'll just wash this day right outta my hair. Takes alot more than that to get me depressed! Stacey, glad you had such a lovely day. You have a great job.

I'm teaching Extended School Year (ESY) a six-week summer special education program. My summer vacation will begin (and end) in August!

stacey: yes, but it's rewarding, i'll bet. terry: i don't understand the shell reference (got your email btw) riette: ok, i'll leave it alone (which one did you hurt?)

Riette, sorry to hear about the finger. Did you clean up that Coke yet? Had dinner last night at a microbrewery, featuring--you guessed it--a nut brewed ale called "Geronimo" for some arcane reason.

was Geronimo a nutcase, perhaps? you had dinner at a brewery? what'd you eat? peanuts?

possibly closer to a brew pub...

Beer cheese soup (fabulous) and a powerhouse sandwich. I don't even know for a fact that they use peanuts to make the beer; perhaps they use hazelnuts, or cashews, even! I associate nuts with George Washington Carver, not Geronimo. But then again, maybe I'm nuts!

Wow! Wee! Pssshh! No, you're not very nuts, Autumn. �smile�

i'm in more pieces than i thought imaginable. i feel worthless. unable to go on. i'm a failure. in everybody and anybody's eyes. i'm nothing. might as well surrender my cubic metre or so. i'm a broken, broken man. human. thing. i think that whatever it is that wants to break me has finally done so. i can't go any further. give any more. that's all i'm capable of. there's only so many times i can pick my self off the floor and dust myself down. i've just got no more inside of me. and i dont' even care. it's almost relief. relief together with the terrible knowledge of what i must do. i am just not capable of going on. i can't. i'm busted. busted, broken, trashed, smashed, eve ything. there's nothing to describe it. nothing to describe the way i feel inside. the weird feeling i've got in my legs. i'm so sad. so sad for how i will hurt people with relieving myself of this pain. i just don't see a way out from here. or any other way out. i haven't got it inside of me to even pull myself back up one last time. i haven't. i can't. i'm sorry

i wish one of you were here now. just here, logged on would do. in my room, even better. there are tears. i'm in pain. lots of pain. it hurts so much. i don't know what hurts, but it does. i don't know how to make you understand how un-melodramatic this is for me. i wish i was making it up. how i wish i was. how can i get out of this? out of myself? i'm so scared, so afraid. not of being mad any more, but of just being here. i can't cope. i'm way beyond that pont, i think. i'm out on the edge, crazy as a crazy person. i'm going round the twist, in public. it hurts so mch

what do you mean by re: so sad for how i will hurt people with relieving myself of this pain. ?

every car that came past me on the way home this evening, i had to force myself not to just step in front of it, because of how much i would screw up other people. so many times i've had to grab myself, and *not* just wade out into the sea from the beach. i would so like to be free of myself.

i'm sorry. i don't feel like i should be sharing this even here. somehow i attach responsibility for myself on to all of you, which is wrong. i wish i knew what was going on in my head.

you feel lost. i've been there. you have a will to live, that's why you didn't step out in front of the traffic. what is it that you want? i mean, what would it resolve? you don't know the value of your own life. God didn't give it to you so you could take it away. It's his gift. anyway, am not gonna preach. just talk to us. don't ever stop talking. i used to think that i wanted to be gone too. but figured out that dead wasn't what it was that i wanted. and because i couldn't handle the thoughts, i broke out in panic attacks a lot. i never want to feel that way again. all i knew was that i wanted things different and that everything scared me. i had to learn that it wasn't my responsibility for how other people feel. you see, i grew up in a house that wasn't happy on the inside (isn't that the 90's thing, you know). but it truly wasn't. so i became codependent to my parents. i took on control of their feelings (or so i had thought to myself) so if i took the blame for everything, it would be ok. hell, i would think that the police sirens down the street were coming for me (wild thoughts, i admit, but it did flash before me). and then, with a lot of time and a lot of support-not from my husband, i figured out that i am a human being who has needs. and i learned something called the ABC module. i know it sounds so corny, but it works for me. it goes something like this. A: the situation B: the awfulizing-what do you think might happen? C: what is more realistic? and is that so terrible for example: A: i broke up with my girlfriend B: oh my god, i'm gonna be killed C: probably not go out with anyone for awhile.

A: I feel like my mother deserted me when i was younger, and have had problems relating to anyone since then. i have projected mother-substitutes onto all of the women i've ever *met*, let alone gone out with, which has ruined every relationship i've ever had, and left me with a huge gaping hole in my life, not to mention a massive perfectionist streak which eats up everything i do with guilt and self-deprecation. B: I could go fucking mad C: i could go out of my tree

so is she responsible for you now? or are you responsible for your own happiness? i ask this, because my mother was cold as ice and my father, well, that's for another time. my mother, after revealing some terrible thing,

A: mom was not emotionally available. B: i can never relate to anyone ever again C: i can learn how to make myself happy

mine a: mom was not emotionally available b: i will be just like her and that is that c: i can learn from that and try not to make the same mistakes i chose c, because i knew what i didn't want to be, so now my children get lots of hugs and kisses and are told everyday that i love them no matter how rotten they're being or how rotten i'm being.

it's not about me being responsible for making myself happy. i've been trying that for however many years now. what is happening to me now is the result of years and years of trying to make myself happy by locking away the stuff that has happened in the past. except it's just not working any more. it leaks out in bigger and bigger quantities all the time.

ok, monster in the closet. he's not so scary, you know. i did that too. stuffed all the bad stuff in a closet and kept my front. but pretty soon it did start leaking out. so i let the whole thing come out and you know what? it was only 1 inch tall so i squished it. yeah, there are side effects, people aren't gonna be happy, especially if the monster has something to do with them. we have a way of making things seem worse. like the monster. we think, when that thing gets out, it's gonna eat New York, but when you step back and look at it, well, it's a little lizard. work with me, i know what i'm trying to say. it's like the things you're scared of, you make them bigger in your mind, but when you face them, they're really not so bad. you'll feel so much better when you unlock the closet door. no, not right away. give yourself time and plenty of room. don't worry about the "supposed to's". who's normal? we all have our own way of dealing with things. i let my monster out and my parents are now off of the pedestal and are human. have i forgiven them, yes, have they forgiven me, hmm, i dunno....but forgiveness is for the forgiver. oh, and if you're not happy yet, it's because you think your making yourself happy. it's not gonna be bliss right away, and you will slide back, but that's ok. tell me, what does your monster look like? why do you feel deserted?

i feel deserted because i was deserted. my mother and father split when i was 2 years old. then she got together with a man who hated me and my brother and sister, and forced the two of them out of the house in due course. 7 years of psychological torture, basically. seven years of being hated beyond what i thought anyone was capable of. and hated by a cold, calculating, brutal person, not some raving nutter with an axe, but someone with a real knowledge of how to make a person feel perfectly shitty bout themselves. and this person is the one my mother married, and supported, and turned a blind eye to, even when he started to force my sister out of home, just as he'd done successfully with my brother. then he goes to prison. my mother and i fight like crazy. i go through probably the best and worse five months of my life. he is not around, which is glorious relief, but she constantly yearns for hiim, and i live with the knowledge that he will be back. he comes back. nothing is different. we move to a tiny (and i mean tiny) village in lincolnshire. back of beyond. all the people have eight toes and three legs because of the inter-breeding - literally. we buy a public house. my mother slips straight back into her alcoholic tendencies whic she has had for years. i'm used to this by now, it's no big deal. and the nightly rows. the crying. the slamming of doors. all of this is present and accounted for, all above board and ship-shape. ay captain then in notice that neither of them are sleeping in their bed at night. i just presume that they're both pissed up and fighting downstairs, even when it's silent. this goes on for some weeks, some months...can't remember how long. long enough to start scaring me. then i find out. she's having an affair and has been leaving the house every night for the last x weeks/months. leaving me there, with him, alone. cheers. by the age of eleven, i am ordering my own shopping, making my own dinner and worrying about how i'm going to get the stuff for my cooking project at school. all things that i presumed that mums should take care of. all things that my friends mothers all took care of. the way my mother would never, ever, stick up for me. if something happened, and someone complained about me, then i fucking got it, i really did. didn't matter if i was guilty or not, she fucking gave it to me. from years and years ago, i remember her smacking me in the head. i can't remember why, or what about or anything, just the site of her smacking me in the head. cheers again. not that i was physically abused. that just came to mind, and i'm streaming here. and so we move out of the pub, and into the house of her new bloke. who is actually a good man. life gradually improves, but by this time i think it's all well in motion anyway. i am scarred. i wet the bed constantly until i'm about 14 or 15. i have nightmares. i have attitude problems and relationship "difficulties?". do you remember me saying about the dream i died in? it was the first step-father who shot me. unbelievable that was. i think that stream is over.

i understand the problems you were having. i mean, i understand why. what did your mother do? (with the stress-related stuff in your new home) i had a dream last night that my father was out to kill me. i was left with a house with all sorts of things in it and i told him it was mine. my mother was on my side (concerning the exploitation of me) and was trying to help me get to a lawyer so i could finally have the man arrested. time was short. i woke up before it was resolved. it has been awhile since i had nightmares about my parents. but usually both of them were out to get me. think looking through some old photo albums and seeing his eyes is what did it. they're still married. she still believes him and not her daughter (she's in denial, and who wouldn't be).

listen, mike, you hang in there. i'm so sleepy, can't keep my eyeballs open anymore (and the toothpicks keep falling out). listen, i'm here, even if you just blab, send a post or something. but only if you feel safe (do you know what i mean?) *big wolfie hug* and a *kiss* on your forehead (no teeth or slobber!)

Mike, Wolf, the things I have read here this morning has made me angry once more. Our parents, they fuck us up, that's the truth of it. Mike, if you should kill yourself, they will have won. Never, never, never let that happen. You feel worthless - they have conditioned you to do so. You feel broken - they have tried to break you, because your goodness made them feel like the trash they are. You feel sad - they want you to feel that, because it means that you are still dependent on them, however perverse and crazy that may sound to the rational ear. You feel haunted - they will do that for as long as you are broken, because they want to pull you down into their pathetic abyss, and say, look, he is no better than us, he is a tosser too, IQ of 147 or not. You feel you can't go on - they would love for you not to go on, for they cannot bear to see how you are fighting for your soul. You feel you are a failure - they want you to fail, nothing would please them more. I could go on, but if I did, I'd never stop again. Mike, I cannot tell you how to make it better - we all have to do it our own way, what worked for me might make you even more miserable. But I do want to tell you that you musn't be ashamed. You are not guilty. They are. You MUST be selfish. You MUST perservere. And whatever you do, DON'T let them know how they have made you feel, NEVER. Don't give them that satisfaction. Fight them and break them as they have tried to break you. Hate them as much as you want - they deserve it. The crappiest thing about parents is that they think they have some autonomous sort of RIGHT, some claim on their children. That is why they don't care if they screw up. How can one care about something you take for granted anyway? They think their children 'owe' them something for putting them into this sick and miserable world - pathetic, isn't it? But I tell you Mike, you do not belong TO them as my children do not belong to me. Our children are people who are lent to us for a few years by God. Whether they will ever truly belong to us, depends entirely upon how we treat them, whether we make them feel they WANT to belong with us or not. They too have a choice in the matter, and YOU have a choice right now. Your parents did not 'adopt' you like that, they never appreciated the gift of children, they don't deserve your loyalty or your love or your guilt or anything at all. Don't you forget that, and don't let THEM forget that.

right on, riette. (children are gifts, too bad some people don't take care of the most precious ones they have) mike, i don't hate my parents, what would that accomplish? does it hurt them? no, but it sure hurts me. so what's the point in that? your parents may have left you wanting, but look what's happened now. God gave you all of us, and we're all in your corner. *hug* be the person that you are and the rest will fall into place!

i certainly don't hate either of my parents for the way i've turned out. i don't even "blame" them, since there is no blame to be apportioned. They are responsible, either wholly or partly, but they are not to blame. but i need to sort this thing out. these things out. i'm messed up, and not likely to get better without some real sorting. it's weird how nervous i get every time i click on this topic, now that i've told you all what it's really about. nobody knows except all of you.

then you should feel at home. we're not here to judge you or lay our opinions on you. we just want to help you sort through the stuff. yes, i believe we are a' product of our environments. but we CAN change the way we are now. so sort away (and i'm glad that you are able to recognize that, i mean, to admit to it)

i think i would like to move this to a private conference. i'm not too happy with all and sundry checking in on my life. i'll sort it out with terry.

Would we still be able to talk there? Because I would miss you.

oh yeah. all of the people here would be invited. it's just to keep things a bit more private between us. i think i would be happier that way.

I understand. And I'm glad we'd still be allowed there.

Ugh, since Chris has stopped talking to me, my English is getting worse by the day. Wish he'd get over his birthday now. �SIGH�

take him go-karting :) give him to me to talk to - i'm feeling old :)

Can't take him go-karting. He IS old! It sometimes scares me.

take him go karting. how old is he?

50

definitely take him then :)

Took him to the merry-go-around yesterday - he hated it. So I went on my own in the evening, stiff arm and finger and all, and then he was very angry with me for staying out too late and walking back home instead of taking a taxi. When he is in this black, sullen mood I am unable to do anything right. Yet tonight he came into the bathroom, scrubbed my back, dried my hair and made love to me without a word - still, I understood. The mood is wearing off, and he is sorry for being angry. He is a strange creature - I love him.

i could do with a bit of that TLC stuff :)

I know, Mike. I find it a shame that we are all such good friends here, yet we can't hug a person when they need it. It makes all the difference in the world to me.

yes, but we can virtually hug so here ya go *big bear hug* oops! make that *big wolf hug* never mind my teeth, sweetie!

Hey, we're coming up to 200 here! Damn, just missing it - oh well, make a wish, whoever hits it! Don't wolves sort of bite to show affection? Or is that sharks?

sharks, IF they're capable. wolves lay around on each other and stuff. the teeth stuff is left for the really serious business of putting something straight!

OH! Won't mess with you then . . .

Mike... hope the new day brings greater perspective.

i'm back again. trying to sleep before i was really tired was a bad move. leaving myself alone with my brain is a dangerous move at the moment. i'm gonna go back a few steps and talk about what's on my mind at the moment, rather than the whole situation itself. i have this problem, yes, with females. women. girls. i'm not a good prospect for hosting the Babes conference, I don't think :) I am hopelessly attracted to them; no problem there. unfortunately, when i get involved with anyone, i'm doomed to screw it up through my own ineptitude, and then to beat myself up over it for like...*ages* afterwards. months and months. years. other peop e don't generally get like this. hell, the other halves of the various relationships damn well don't, whether they ended it or I did. i guess this is all tied up in the bigger picture, and unless I get that sorted out I'm...screwed? notscrewed? :) as you can tell, i'm in a better state of mind than friday, but not by much. i'm lonely here. i'm left alone with my mind, and nowhere to go. it's not nice when the most fundamental part of you is playing nasty tricks, and dragging up stuff that should be long forgotten.

not to minimize your problem, but, shoot, even us gals have probs with our own selves! so why do you think you screw up? can't always be you, the odds of that are pretty much nil. remember, it takes two for a relationship. sounds to me like you were there but they weren't. maybe the problem lies in what you want and what they want.

yeah. i'm not even sure if this is a problem; rather i think it's a symptom of my state of mind at the moment. but i'm fairly sure i shouldn't still pine after a particular person/relationship after more than three years. particularly when the relationship itself lasted only two months.

you still have feelings and yearnings. nothing wrong with that. everyone takes their own time to sort through things. you're doing that "supposed to" thing. i wonder about people i used to know. i still pine after my best friend, JC. i miss him terribly (tho we were never lovers), but i can still feel him hugging me....

I still sometimes miss the last guy I didn't have a proper relationship with before I met Chris; It was a friendship in which we did it once sort of accidently, though we both knew our goals in life were too different for it to work. It was wonderful, and we are still very good friends - saw him only four weeks ago (he is a black Namibian artist, a wonderful artist) - so it isn't as if there was ever even a break, and he and Chris are very good friends too. But I do sometimes wonder what it would have been like had I stayed with him, what kind of a life we might be leading now if we did stay together, because those were crazy, and very happy days with him. I also know that if I had stayed with him, and met Chris in the meantime, I would be wondering about what it would've been like with Chris. Human nature thing, I think.

i'm wondering what it might be like to be with anyone, I think ;-)

with just anyone? i used to wonder what it would be like with someone else... but then i look at mr wolf and see how good he is to me (aside from his annoying faults-but we all have them) and i probably wouldn't be as lucky!

well, anyone within vague reason, I guess. The thing with me, which I realised today, is that I totally discard (that's an awful word, actually) people who don't come up to scratch in every, or nearly every, department (hehe...this sounds so cynical :) then, when i find somebody who does, I go totally overboard, because there aren't that many of them. why don't i listen to my friends? I've already been told that I'm too picky when it comes to women, but I just ignored them :) Oh well. They've just gotta be special to even get looked at ;) However, I went into town today, and was feeling particularly beautiful. Feels good to feel beautiful :))

yes it does. funny how you know when you're "on"! nothing wrong with being picky, at least you know you won't settle! and you shouldn't. look for what you want and when it's right, it'll be really right!

(and i must say that for as ugly as i am, i too, have those beautiful days and other people pick up on it and are drawn to you. it's funny, huh?)

(that sounded like i'm fishing for compliments-i'm not, let me assure you)

wolf, you're not ugly. i can promise you that. i realised something today, and then remembered that someone else had already coined it - "beauty is more than skin deep" :) when i realised it today, it seemed so profound, so true. and i think that's because it is. it doesn't matter to me whether the people here have the standard one head, or three heads, because it's more than faces here. it's who we are, stripped of the prejudices of race/face/colour/age. it's words. thoughts. us.

this is true, that's why i love talking to people here because you have to pay attention to learn who they are. i wonder if posting our faces will change that. (and yes, true beauty is beyond skin and is ageless)..on the other hand, some people lie about who they are because of the anoniminity (boy, i hope that's spelled right!) and you're too kind *blush*

anonymity i think it is :) would posting our faces make it different? i think that our little group - you, stacey, autumn, riette, terry, nick, wer and me know each other well, and feel "close" enough to make faces merely interesting, rather than methods of judgment. that's just my feeling.

I hope it won't make it different, but so far I don't feel any different knowing what you and Terry look like - it's just nice to have a picture to go with the idea of the people I talk to here. But if it should turn into a beauty contest, I'm out of here, because physical appearance is about the last thing I judge people by. My father is a very attractive man . . .

Well it ain't not beauty contest.

Good! So how have you been these past few days, Mike? I am well - doctor's decided my plaster can come off tomorrow - yahoo!!

that's great news, riette. how's the finger? as for me, i'm inspired. i bought a new book (one of four, none of which i could afford) last week: the biography of Richard Branson. Basically he got to where he is today by simply being the world's most confident man, and not accepting that there were things that were "impossible". I'm drawing off of this a little bit. there doesn't seem to be much point in sitting around and worrying about what happens if something goes wrong somewhere. just pick myself, dust myself down etc. i think the fear of ailure comes from thinking about things too much. perhaps my fear of the telephone comes from sitting down and thinking "right, i've got to speak to someone who i've never met before, now", when really I should just pick up the phone and dial. i am simply feeling much, much better. how long it will last, i don't know. i want this state of mind to become the status quo, because it's the most sensible state i've been in forever. it simply doesn't matter if the next woman i chat up completely blows me out (english expression...ummm "rejects" :). that doesn't matter, does it? it really doesn't. the only thing that matters is that i definitely lose if i don't chat her up! :) i'm sure you will all appreciate how much better i'm feeling =)) the other three books that i bought have helped in other ways, too. one of them pointed out to me that my relationship with Louise wasn't that great after all. the book was all about some guy who was feeling like he was stuck in a rut with his girlfriend, and that he was going to be stuck with someone he wasn't completely sure about for the rest of his life. and that struck a chord. that's where i was. it may have been nice, but it was not as wonderful as i have recently been creating in my head. i have the feeling that the world is rather at my feet. the only thing that holds me back from it is my own fear, which is based on...well, nothing really. i'm getting out there, and doing the business :)

that's all very positive, now let's see ya do it! (learn to laugh at yourself) now when i pick up the phone and get my tongue crossed, the person on the other end and i both have ourselves a good laugh! (in fact it happened just today!)

Mike, I'm so glad you're feeling so much better. And you SOUND so good too. I admire the way you admit to, face, and fight the things that make life difficult for you. Oh, the finger is thick and painful, but I'm over the moon over the prospect of getting rid of this stupid white thing.

Mike, I'm just coming in on the tail end of your angst-ridden week and am glad to hear your spirits have lifted a bit. I don't know if this would interest you or not, but there is an herb, St. John's Wort, which is a sort of organic anti-depressant. It won't make you forget your problems, but it may help brighten your outlook and help you feel the "up" way you're feeling now. I've heard so many positive things from my friends (several take it) that I feel comfortable suggesting that you check it out. ake care of yourself.

I've heard of that! It's slang name is 'Ecstacy', Mike! (no, just kidding!)

Thanks, Autumn, I'll try and find out about it :) WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!! Guess what just happened??! Riette phoned me :)) There I am, bleary-eyed having been awake about ten minutes, and all of a sudden I hear this voice on the phone that I've never heard before, that asks for me. And then the voice turns out to be Riette! WOOOOOHOOOOOO!!!!! The first Spring person I've spoken to anywhere but here or e-mail :-) It was fun, even if the telephone is still the most artificial form of conversation. But it was exciting, and the chocolate-swap is organised :-)))

ha-ha!!! Did it frighten you?

noooo, of course not :)

Good. Today I finished my still life. I hate finishing a painting, because I grow attached to working on some things. How silly.

nothing silly about that. i feel like that about books. very much like that, in fact. perhaps that's why I read them over and over. which in turn is probably why i have so few books :)

Ha-ha!!! Yes, I do that too. I have 5 books piled up on my beside table, and every night I just choose one, and read a few pages from it. Some people call that narrow minded, but why plough through 300 pages of crap when you can just read something that you know is good?!

lol :))

The telephone is the most artificial form of conversation?? I think a phone call from Riette would be anything but artificial! I will sit by mine and wait for it to ring... Riette, beginnings and endings are emotional, aren't they. What is your bedside reading? So what's up with the chocolate swap?

WELL, the chocolate swap has indeed been arranged, and will take place as soon as I can track down 100g of champaigne truffles this time of year in Z�rich. And the bedside books are: Jane Eyre Wuthering Heights The name of the Rose The picture of Dorian Gray Volume of 4 stories (including Indecent Exposure) by Tom Sharpe Love Hate Suspense Horror Comedy all right beside me!

It's back again. I'm back again. I thought this was over. It isn't. : PJ reckons your ex is even more top class now, Mike : yeah? cool. i don't even have a reason for feeling like this at the moment. what the hell do i feel like? i don't know. like something has been taken away from me. or out of me, somehow. like i'm not everything i could/should be. dissatisfied with myself. afraid. as usual. i am planning on sending a letter, or rather, delivering by hand a letter cos i've lost the address, to a very old, much-idolised girlfriend. who is "even more top class now, Mike". is that a good idea? i'm not sure if it is or isn't. i suppose one could argue that it would "only be dragging up the past" or something like that. but how much more can the past be dragged up? not much, i promise. maybe somehow i will be able to lay a few things to rest, finally, if i do get in touch with her. i think perhaps part of what i'm feeling now is fear of going back. it's a best-mate's 21st birthday next weekend, and i've been invited up for the beach party. going back. that's what i'm afraid of. the whole place is full of memories of pain and very little else. even the good memories are pricked with bad ones. the last time i went back, just before christmas, was terrible. all of my worst ever experiences locked up in one small room. a legacy from where i used to be. my room at home is almost xactly the same as when i left it, two years ago. it's like going back and discovering a past life. pieces of paper that are five years old, with all of the memories that that entails. are depression and nostalgia the same thing? i really thought i was through this.

"are depression and nostalgia the same thing?" only if you let them be...they aren't of and by themselves...

i'm on a bit more of an even keel today, which is good. i went up to London, and was surrounded by beautiful people all day (see the Babes conf for more :). and i looked beautiful too, which was good. i think i would like to live in London. it's such a massively vibrant place. 8 million people. that's more people than i can even conceive. each and every *single* one of them different, completely unique. I was a bit wowed today :) Imagine lining up those eight million people, 8 lines deep, a million people long. surely there would be more than one person who would find me attractive there? of course. that puts things back into perspective again :) today was a great day. i went to a recruitment agency, and scored 108 words per minute with a broken finger. The girl said "I don't think i've ever met anyone who can type that fast before" :-) They also pay �8.50 an hour, which is about (burble, tinkle...) US$13 or so an hour, I think, which is excellent for my line of work. I'd be happy with �5 ($7.50) an hour. I haven't got a definite job with them yet, but they seemed confident of getting me something. that would be lovely. a slightly toned-down version of Claudia Schiffer was on the underground today, and i nearly fell over myself. incredible. she must have been about six feet tall or so - definitely a couple of inches taller than me. blonde. willowy. i've decided that part of what heaven will be like is that everybody will be tall. or there will be a place where you can go where everybody is tall. and beautiful. and you'll become as beautiful as the beautiful people when you walk through the door, and then become yourself again, perfect and unique, when you leave. triffic.

�snort�

Here, have a hanky.

Wasn't that kind of a snort.

Or: Wasn't that kind of a sno(r)t!

I was a good girl today. I'm finally over that foolish 'blue' feeling that always comes over me after completing a painting, and I sat down, and designed the next. And this is going to be great fun. I've designed a huge African city, full of cars and people, and animals and buildings and hot air balloons. This design I am going to realize with bits of coloured tin (from soda cans), and plain tin for windows and reflections - an African painting in tin-mosa�k. It'll be hilarious, I'm sure! Also quite unexpectedly sold a painting today. Spending money for England, that is...

Great, what was the painting you sold like and who bought it? Not specifically who, just generally, what kind of person?

Well, the person is a doctor - she bought a painting of a night jungle at my last exhibition to hang in her practise. She phoned me to ask whether I still had the painting that belonged with it - a daylight jungle. Both are 3-D, and full of african motives and leering eyes, and checked or polka-dotted or paterned animals. And the night jungle has little fireflies. Anyway, I was going to sell the day jungle to a guy running a computer store, but he has in the meantime decided on another painting of AFr can masks, so I was able to do the deal with the doctor. Thank God - it is a skimpy life this. Can't say that it bothers me though. Makes you appreciate things more. We are in the philosophy conference, aren't we? Otherwise I'd apologize for boring you with philosophical talk.

What's that famous painting of a jungle that you always see? With all the animals in a jungle setting?

No idea which one you mean, Terry. There are SO many jungle paintings around - especially in African art culture - that I can't think of one in particular. Have you any more precise ideas about it? You can always post a rough sketch in art.

the mosaic sounds incredible, Riette...

Thanks, Wer. Let's hope I manage it without cutting another few fingers off - I'm so clumsy. And let's hope I'll find different colours of tins - in this country that is not something to be taken for granted.

It was actually called "The Jungle". We studied it in art class in college. I think it was Rousseau.

Congratulations, Riette!!!!

It was the Dream (discussed in art).

Yes, I do know it, and responded. How was your day, Terry?

So far, pretty good. Went for a swim and now off to ham radio operators breakfast and then over to buy some coax at the candy store. It's early and it's *Saturday*. Yay!

What is coax? Chocolate?

The candy store is our local ham radio outlet and coax is wire, specifically antenna wire. In this case RG8x which is currently attached to an 18' antenna setting on two lawn chairs in my backyard.

And they all tan together in the sun?

No, they're in a shady spot. It's destined for a sunny rooftop though. As soon as I pick up a ladder and a 65' telescoping mast.

Does this guy know how to have summer fun or what?

I dread to think what his house must look like; probably a bit like Inspector Gadget's abode.

Dread? Dread? Dread?

�BIG SMILE� I'm really annoying you today, aren't I???

You just haven't seen my digs. I'll have to videotape a tour for you, baby. So you can see it's not all that bad. Now the garage, different story...

Yes, convince me! Anyway, I might see for myself next year . . .

I'm back again, but only for a few hours. Back in Brighton. Back in Spring-world. Back home. I thought I might just go mad without all of you to write to and bleat at and stuff. so i have written, while I've been away, in my diary. Otherwise I might well have gone mad. I'm afraid that a lot of it will be less decipherable than usual (oh no!), but I tend not explain myself in my diary. but here they are.

25 July 1998 Well, that's it. I'm on my way to King's Lynn. And I'm probably - hopefully? - going to deliver a letter to Sarah Davis. That is scary. I put a CV into the computer at work, yesterday, and it was from someone who went to the same school that Sarah did. That brought a lot of old memories back, nearly all - if not competely all - of them good. I'm a little afraid, but also excited. ithink perhaps I@m doing this for better reasons, now. Or I'm doing it for the same reasons as before, but without all of he other, negative reasons that I was attaching while I was...unwell?? That makes it sound as if I was mentally ill! Perhaps i was, in a very, very mild way. So it's with excitement, and not some small trepidation, that I head toward home. I have to decide what I'm going to write in this letter to her, preferably on this journey. I'm going to make it very light-hearted, perhaps mentioning the CV thing to her - just mention the coincidence, or something. I'm quite excited at the prospect, really. I don't have very much to lose, and perhaps have a friend to regain. If nothing else, perhaps it will bury some skeletons. It will be weird to be in Coningsby [where Sarah lives] again, really weird. I spent several months there with Emma, too. And also with Sarah, but probably only a few hours with her! Special hours, though. formative ones. But let's not get into that, because it's important to start laying the past to rest and concentrating on the future of everything! I'm glad I have a job, now. Not just from the financial point of view, but that it keeps me busy, and away from my mind. Too much time to think is bad for my mental health. Well, that's it. Wish me luck!

26 July 1998, 1:22 a.m. I am writing this on paper, in my diary, but it's as if your'e all here, at least in part. I will post this as soon as I get a chance! It will probably be a week from now. I am sat in my room, at my Mum's house, and with me I have a small collections of letters, cards and a photo. these are all from a girl called Sarah Davis, who I had a short fling with about three and a bit years ago. Part of the reason for me coming up here was for me to delvier a letter to her, to try and get back in touch. The last time I ever had any contact her was February 1995. It is difficult for me to describe what it's like to still feel something for her after all this time. All these months and years have turned it into some kind of dream - something that only ever happened in my head. But now here I am, with a photo, and paper covered in her handwriting. And it's not completely painful. It's almost mystical, magical even. This happened. This was, and is, PART OF ME. WOW!! How about a real-time feeling description: it's intense. My head is swimming, almost . I can feel something like tears in my eyes, but not tears of sadness or anger, nor even joy and happiness. Nor ruefulness. Just emotion I think. I think perhaps I don't know what to feel! It's incredible, it really is. I wish so much that you were all here. that we could get beyond the barriers of just words on the screen. YOu've watched me, in the last few weeks, come through a really traumatic time. Even though I don't yet know all of you as well as I would like to, I think that all of you who have been here now know me probably as well as anyone on the eart. Better, even. I think you've seen the real me, on more than one occassion. Stripped of bravado, or posturing, or intellect of any kind. I have sat here an cried whilst connected. YOu've watched me come, genuinely, to the point where I didn't think I could carry on. You know things that even my mother doesn't! And here I am now. I'm going to read the letters, which I haven't done yet. And I will perhaps write some of them in here. Heh. Talk about nervous. I@m truly scared. It's like having Pandora's Box in front of me! It's not 1:44 a.m. and I'm going to read one of the letters. Done. I have a smile. do you know what I feel now? I feel like I miss you all crazily. I think i'd like to pile on to the two couches in philosophy with you all, and just have you there. Here. whatever! How can words on a screen form real bonds? I'm amazed how "amputated" I feel away from you all. Heee...I can imagine you all playing without me! You'd better miss me...*grin* I think I am going to leave, now, and write this letter to Sarah, so that I can hopefully deliver it tomorrow. Bye for now...

above, "not 1:44 a.m. = now 1:44 a.m." :-)

Monday 27 July, 1998. 1:30 p.m. Well, yesterday I did a crazy thing. I wrote a letter4 to Sarah Davis, and then hitched a lift from my friend Phil to go and deliver it. Mad. It was a nice letter - a good letter, I though; positive, up-beat, happy. NO mention of the past other than to establish who I was. I liked it. We drove to Coningsby, which was a trip down memory lane itself! We went past Emma's house, but didn't see her. NOt that I expected to, of course. then we got into the town centre, and I proceeded to fail to find her house. Shit, fuck, damn. I tried everything I could think of, but just couldn't locate her. I thought I knew where her house was, but I obviously didn't. It's difficult to describe what I feel, now. disappointment, I think. I've been building up to this for so long! It's ages since I decided I might try and get in touch with her again. Years. Yet I failed on this first attempt. However, I have some more tricks up my sleeve. I shall go to Boston College and try and either get her address, or ask them to forward a letter. If that doesn't work, I'll go to Gartree School, and ask there. Heck, I@ll put an advert in the local Coningsby newspaper f it comes to it! There are also other avenues to try - mutual friends etc. But it's left me feeling weird. There's a sense of having dragged up the past in a big way. But really it was up here all the time, waiting to be played with. I am disappointed, though. I read some more of her letters to me last night. "Only such an amazingly wonderful person could leave me with such an amazingly wonderful feeling!" Ah, well. That's over and done with. However, I'm sure with my new wardrobe and haircut I could probably be amazingly wonderful again. But I'm not going to entertain that idea.

With all these typing errors you would think that I made my living typing, would you? :)

28 July, 11.59 p.m. Back home, in bed. I had a terrible day today, really. Especially this afternoon. Well, no terrible - certainly not by what I would normally call terrible. But difficult, I guess. Uncomfortable? I spent a lot fo the time with Srah on my mind. I kept having that quote from yesterday going around in my head. "...amazingly wonderful feeling". I had another idea for how to find her address this afternoon. I remember writing it down on a piece of paper here at Dad's, and thought that maybe that wa still around. As soon as I thought that, it was a kind of insanity - it might *work*, I'm so *blown away* by this idea! ROAR! You know the kind of thing.. I'm a little worried about my balance. I'm ot doing balanced things, I'm not taking a balanced approach. I'm hanging something, whatever it is, on the hope of getting in touch with Sarah. I@m not sure whether this is even rational behaviour. I think that in fact is a difficult appreciation to make, but I don't think I'm in the area of being *irrational* yet. I@m not totally off my rocker and out there, but I@m definitely not sitting 100% *on* my rocker :) And then something incredible happened to me this evening. I was thinking phone numbers, and one just popped into my head, just like that. 01526 343135. I@m sure that's the phone number of *someone* I now in Coningsby, but now the more I think about it, the more it sounds like Emma's. Damn. However, I've come up with a way of checking that. I@ll phone Mum and ask her to look in her address book to see if Emma's number is in there. And, thinking about it, there's a long shot chance that Sarah's numb r might be in there. And it's all of this that worries me. the application of cold logic and frantic news ideas to some kind of frenzy to find her. In movies that's always the sign of the fundamentally unstable villain, who is able to use cold, calculating brain power one moment, and then just go off the deep end the next. I feel like I should stop, but I@m not sure I can. So I have some new ideas. And I will probably find her, in the end. On the way, I may well have to overcome some of my deepest fears and insecurities to achieve waht I want. Whic is what this could be about. It *could* be God getting me to face up to some very, very real fears, that reduce my cpacity to be successful. So I@m just going to go with it. Unless God really seem to be saying NO, then I'll carry on. i can't end up much worse than I am.

29 July. 1:20 p.m. I'm sat on a busy street in Bloomsbury, London, drinking a black coffee and eating a chocolate cake. And of course, writing this. there's something vaguely ridiculous about donig all of this while dressed in a suit, but there we go. I would probably look more authentic in my black rollneck, smoking from a cigarette holder! I'm not sure I like being on parade like this, but there we go. I wonder if I look daft. Lunching office worker with no friends to have lunch with? Or, maybe, eccentric poet in t e bondage of a city job, struggling to escape?! Ah, the lives I could create for myself. Thoughts of Sarah have been few this morning. Rather, I've been thinking about the first year at my sixth form college as a whole, and what a wonderfully high time it was! It's difficult to describe. There was something pure about it - I keep thinking the words "raw", "unadulterated", "without limits". Just something. And I don't think it's purely a retrospective creation, either, since I remember feeling this way at the time. what was it about that year? That year in particular, that I've never re lly come close to again. It's probably much to do with the removing of all the constraints that had held me back at school. I had the chance to re-invent myself, which I promptly did. Maybe that really was it. I could approach new situations with a clean slate, not reacting to them the way I would have previously, but in the way that the "new me" decided to. There was a real sense of liberation. perhaps that's what I need to do now. Maybe I'm fed up with being the person that I am, and it's re-invention time. But that's not easy, since I'm essentially happy with my "persona" as it stands; it's just the bit inside of me that needs some work. I would love to recapture that first "boston feeling". LOOK AT THAT! The new me went to a flower shop, bought a rose and presented it to the college's best looking woman by a long way. And by George, it worked! Me! and Sarah! ha! how envious they were! And I need to recapture some of that "free spirit", which sounds cheesy, but is essentially the point. Unafraid to fail. What the hell was it that I had? Moreover, where on earth did it go? That's one fo the more pertinent questions I've asked for ages. Definitely the one most worth answering.

Have you tried doing an "infospace" search for Sarah, Mike? And for $25 there's a company that will find anyone, I think they advertise on Infospace's page. What an odyssey of remembrance you're on, with a dash of obsession to spice it up, I wish you luck in re-uniting with her and thank you for sharing these most intimate moments with you. What is the situation with Emma? And any more clues on finding Sarah? Are you sure she's still in that little down? Have you seen the movie Dancer Texas yet, it may have some relevance for you or you might enjoy it.

I hope you find her, Mike. But in a way I find it a shame that you dwell on the past so incredibly, heartrendingly much. Makes me wish I could go to wherever she is, take her by the hair and drag her to wherever you are.

that's a beautiful image Ree-head!! *smile* I often look up people from my past... I understand the dissappointment associated with writing down thoughts and anticipating rekindled communication and then hitting a barrier such as the one you hit Mike... good luck!

I used to look up people alot too, but I was almost almost dissappointed upon meeting with someone from the past again - not good old friends, because with them things will always remain the same - but the few boyfriends I had. It was like they expected the feeling to be the same as before, but how could that be? A few years and a big distance don't leave anything unchanged. I think if people can meet people from their past without longing for the person they once were, and trying to be the person the ther once knew, it would be a beautiful thing. Taking the time to get to know the changed person. Few people are willing to do that. My old boyfriends always seem dissappointed that I'm neither seventeen nor a free soul anymore - as if marriage and children means a person gives up his/her soul, and as if indeed I ever POSSESSED a soul at all! And I'm always dissappointed for dissappointing them. So I don't bother anymore. All I know is that the relationship that lasted was the one started from scratc .

I sit here. Night time. Quiet. I have been living up on Mt. Tamalpais in Mill Valley this August. Rented out a forest cottage for the month. Just to get away -- yet come down occasionally for some work and business. Five weeks. Seems like enternity.

That sounds heavenly to me. But you've been away much much longer than five weeks, haven't you? Are you going to come to the other conferences too? We've all been very active while you were at your cottage. Whatever, it's GREAT to have you back.

americ!!! glad you are back!

Bear-thing, how are the wedding plans coming on? Have you got the permission yet?

oh no, still working on the anullment, but some wedding plans have been made, such as location for reception, caterer, etc. Hopefully soon!

I've had many wonderful trips on Mt. Tam, literally. We occasionally had gatherings there during the Monday Night Class days. Have you been to Green Gulch Farm, Americ?

where are these places and why haven't i heard of them before?

Same here - haven't even DREAMT of them before. Ray, is a traditional wedding (with church and the do afterwards and all that) very expensive? Is your girlfriend's father paying?

yes, it can get expensive, but my gf and i are going to be paying for all of it, so it will not be a very big wedding, just immediate family and a few close friends. i am of mexican descent and she is filipino. in both our cultures, the groom's father pays for the wedding! since my parents paid for my first wedding we figured it would not be fair for them to have to pay for my second one!

ha-ha! In Africa it's the same thing. With us the man even has to ask the wife's father. Which my husband didn't do, of course. Where will you go on honeymoon?

probably Maui, in Hawaii. we also may go to Singapore and Hong Kong. Still deciding!!

Wow!!! I've never been to any of those places, so when you come back you must post some photos, will you?

oh definitely! my finacee is a photographer so we should have plenty to post.

OK, all you married people out there (past and present), where did you go on your honeymoon? We went to Quebec, Canada.

uh, louisiana state fair (with my mother)

hey, i was three months pregnant, my mother came up to the wedding....so, we, like, had our honeymoon at least three months earlier :o

Galveston, TX

Pfleugerville, Idaho. I undressed before her that night, and her eyes were unrelenting in their disbelief as they looked directly at it for the first time. She started backing up toward the door, and while still gaping at me (in dread), she opened the door and backed out. I never saw her again. After four years on the couch with the best psychoanalyst in Syria, I went blind. Only a month later I was executed in Chile. It was chilly that day when they laid my body to rest at the feeling feet of my wif . Her toejams smelled so bad, I never could get my rest until all the dirt was in the hole that I finally lay peacefully at the bottom of. Sleep well tonight, my dear ones. I know I will, of course.

Swiss Engadine, four months pregnant. And even that was too far away - all types of transport made me feel like DYING, I was so sick. ha-ha - Sweet memory!

My two marriages. Louise. Big Sur, CA. Joy. The Coast of N Calif and Mt. Shasta.

Lucky you to have had two honeymoons!!

Maybe three someday. The next one has to be Europe. Gotta find that girl first, though.

europe? hell, *i'll* marry you!

been there, done that, and am taken (not that anyone was wondering)

That is exactly what I have been wondering all week! Which places did you visit? Germany to start with, I suspect?

Wer, I have heard of Galveston--what is there? Riette, I have never heard of Swiss Engadine. Where is it and what is there? Terry, I plan to explore all of North and Central CA someday and would love to go to the Cascade Mtns. someday. Maybe you could just go to europe and find someone there? :-)

Oh no, Autumn!!!! Poor Terry! European women are beautiful, but brainless and boring, with no opinion of their own!! Well, perhaps that's ENOUGH reason to take one! The Engadine is a mountain range here, not too far from St. Moritz - but not so high as the alps. Just high enough to breathe fresh air, and go for long long long walks from village to village, drinking hot chocolate and eating cakes.

hey, hey, hey! (i am european by design and i have a very decided opinions)

Galveston is on the Gulf coast, the wife grew up just north of there, we could afford it, so that's where we went...

God, how I know that feeling, Wer. With us it was: either we could go some place exotic and miss out on the African holiday the end of the NEXT year, or we could go to the Engadine for . . . four days . . . and call THAT our honeymoon. Well, neither of us were willing to give up Africa. But I think a honeymoon is totally romantic, WHEREVER one goes. I loved mine. HA-HA, WOLF!!!!!!

I'm back! I was back yesterday, but Netscape decided to eat my response before I had entered it :-( Not a good start. I'm going to type my response in Notepad, and then paste it in here - back in a few minutes....

good to "see" you again!!

hey mike! glad you're back!

So, I'm back. Except this feels a little weird because I'm typing in Notepad instead of the Reply box. No matter - I'll cope, I'm sure :) So, what's been going on with me? Well, I disappeared to go to work, as you know, and was very sorry to leave you all behind. Hopefully I won't have to suffer quite as long a soujorn in the future. Work was quite good - I like doing jobs where I *know* that I can do them well - and I met lots of nice people. It was strange: I fitted in. I don't fit in here at university. I didn't fit in at school. At work, I did. It was great to be know so many people. I also met somebody, um..., nice :) We met t a workmate's birthday party. My chat-up line was lots of dancing to groovy seventies music (which is totally my thing :), and then I followed up with "either i've got to leave now to get the train home, or I'm sleeping in your room tonight". I woke up the next morning in her room :) Her name is Michelle, and she's 27 and works in the Curriculum Innovations Department. She's particularly lovely because she's tall.....if we both take our shoes off, she's actually taller than me!!!! YES! She's also got blond highlights which look lovely. We went to the theatre, which was fun; then I got sick, so she bought me grapes which cheered me up no end. Then we went out to dinner and spent time in London together and all sorts of fun stuff. She cooked me dinner last weekend, wh ch was lovely lovely. And everything's going spiffingly. I've finally managed to do what (I think) wer suggested weeks and weeks ago: just Be. I've switched off the part of my brain that thinks too far ahead, that analyses too much, that tries to think of the consequences of every action. And it's great. I didn't think I would ever manage it, but I did. There's seven years between Michelle and I, but that doesn't seem to matter because it's not worth thinking about. I am happy. Hehe...my next posting will be fun, though. I went on holiday and, um...well, read on:-)

this is very good news!

So, I'm back. Except this feels a little weird because I'm typing in Notepad instead of the Reply box. No matter - I'll cope, I'm sure :) So, what's been going on with me? Well, I disappeared to go to work, as you know, and was very sorry to leave you all behind. Hopefully I won't have to suffer quite as long a soujorn in the future. Work was quite good - I like doing jobs where I *know* that I can do them well - and I met lots of nice people. It was strange: I fitted in. I don't fit in here at university. I didn't fit in at school. At work, I did. It was great to be know so many people. I also met somebody, um..., nice :) We met t a workmate's birthday party. My chat-up line was lots of dancing to groovy seventies music (which is totally my thing :), and then I followed up with "either i've got to leave now to get the train home, or I'm sleeping in your room tonight". I woke up the next morning in her room :) Her name is Michelle, and she's 27 and works in the Curriculum Innovations Department. She's particularly lovely because she's tall.....if we both take our shoes off, she's actually taller than me!!!! YES! She's also got blond highlights which look lovely. We went to the theatre, which was fun; then I got sick, so she bought me grapes which cheered me up no end. Then we went out to dinner and spent time in London together and all sorts of fun stuff. She cooked me dinner last weekend, wh ch was lovely lovely. And everything's going spiffingly. I've finally managed to do what (I think) wer suggested weeks and weeks ago: just Be. I've switched off the part of my brain that thinks too far ahead, that analyses too much, that tries to think of the consequences of every action. And it's great. I didn't think I would ever manage it, but I did. There's seven years between Michelle and I, but that doesn't seem to matter because it's not worth thinking about. I am happy. Hehe...my next posting will be fun, though. I went on holiday and, um...well, read on:-)

10 September, 1998 (0140 hours) I have a lot to say. Today I came as close to losing my life as I ever want to come. Certainly as close as I have ever been. Matt and I drove up to the North Coast of Lanzarote to get in the surf. We hired boards, got our suits on and waxed up. We walked over to the cove we had seen a couple of days before which was surrounded by rocks on both sides but had a long, calm run-out in the direction of the waves. As soon as I got in the water I realised that the waves were much bigger than I�d thought and basically all of my confidence disappeared. I paddled about a bit, riding over incoming waves. Then I decided to try and catch one. I obviously chose the wrong one because it was massive, really massive. As I got to the top I must have been seven or eight feet off the surface level, and when I started down the speed was phenomenal. I just grabbed the board and held on for dear life. I remember looking down nd seeing another surfer below me; as I hurtled down the wave I missed him, quite literally, but about four inches - he must have just seen me because he paddled out of my path just in time. It occurred to me about a second after this that I might hit someone else so I�d better get off the board. I feel off of the back just as the wave decided to collapse into white water - shit. I got tumbled and mashed really badly. It was actually the first time I�d been tumbled, and it was by a seriously powerful wave. I was carried at huge speed by this thing, mostly unable to breath apart from a few shallow gasps, for about fifteen or twenty seconds. Which is a long time when you�re underwater, try ng not to panic. I can�t really describe the fear to you. When the wave finally ran out, and I surfaced, I was pretty spooked. I had a bad feeling about the waves and my ability to surf them. But I thought I would stay in and catch another - if you fall off a horse you have to get straight back on, etc. I paddled around for quite a while, still spooked and obviously - although I didn�t realise it at the time - without any of the confidence I needed. I decided to try for another wave, and I got seriously tumbled again. After this I was seriously spooked and ealised that I had to get out. I started paddling toward the long run-out, all the time being chased by these huge waves. I was scared and starting to get tired. I didn�t seem to be getting anywhere, and all the while I was getting big waves crashing on me. Every time I saw one coming I would wait until the last second and then grab a breath and jump up, hoping to clear it. Some I did, others I didn�t. At some point I was mashed and got hit in the chest by one of the fins on the board. I was gettin closer and closer to the run-out and the waves were getting less powerful. This is good, I thought, just get out and have a long walk back around the shore to reach the car. Then, disaster. As I got closer to the safe area, rocks started appearing at my feet - I fell over on them and hurt myself a bit. Shit. There was no way I could go forwards, because I�d be smashed to pieces, along with the board, on the rocks in front of me. For some reason I decided that I would try and get onto the coastline over toward our car. Although this was, with hindsight, a bad decision, I realised that I had a choice - either risk the rocks or be marooned out in the surf, where I would definitely have drow ed. I started over toward the rocks, very scared. The waves kept coming in, and I kept trying to get over them, usually with success. I was already tired, though, and with the added effect of paddling and jumping waves I was getting seriously worn out. It took me about six to eight minutes of this to start approaching the rocks, although it seemed like much longer; it certainly cost me more in terms of energy. Then rocks started appearing under y feet again. I slipped and fell, with panic rising in me because the waves were still coming in. I managed to get slightly away from them before the next wave came in. Alternately stumbling and jumping, I realised that I was in serious trouble. There was no way I could get away from the rocks and find a better landing point - the waves were just too strong and I was just too worn out and weak; but, there was a good chance that one of these waves would pick me up on ts crest and throw me against the rocks, which would essentially kill me - either from the impact itself or from me losing consciousness and then drowning. I released that I could die. Not just that I could die, but that there was a very good chance that I would. I was staring death in the face, for the first time. I remember thinking about what was going to happen and there seemed a terrible finality about it - I didn�t have any sense of afterlife or anything peaceful, just a feeling of pure emptines and despair. I realised that I didn�t want to die, and more importantly, that I wasn�t supposed to die, not yet. All of these thoughts occurred in just a few seconds before I started trying to get on-shore. What happened next is a blur of alternately trying to get away from the rocks and over the waves and then trying to scramble up the rock face to get safe. I was getting utterly exhausted and my will to carry on was getting sapped. But something, right down inside me, just wouldn�t let go. I wasn�t conscious, I didn�t just �know� that I had to fight, I just did fight. I fought the panic and the waves a d the rocks. And then I got dealt another blow: the waves, which had been coming in not too strongly, suddenly got much more powerful. I looked up and a massive one started to break over me. I was about ten feet from a massive wall of rocks, and with a lot of rocks beneath my feet. There was little I could do apart from desperately swim away from the rocks, against the tide. I was brought down hard on the surface rocks and injured myself in various places. It was obviously a double wave, whipped up y a gust of wind, because it was followed immediately by another, and this time I realised that there was nothing at all I could do. I had not time to get away from the rocks and nowhere to go. Either I would somehow get out of it, or I would die. I realised that I was going to die. The wave came toward me and I just prayed. I don�t know what I prayed and I don�t remember the wave breaking. I can remember coming off the top and flying down toward the surface level, and then the sheer relief of not having been thrown head- or back-first into the rocks and killed, although I had landed badly and done myself a fair bit of damage. I was now close enough to the rocks to try and get on them and be t the waves. I looked round and saw another wave coming in, another big one. This, I realised, was absolute make or break: if this wave didn�t get held up by the few rocks I had already managed to scramble up, I would die because all that was in front of me was a completely wall of stone, without even any water depth to try and keep safe in. I prayed again and just called out, �Please Jesus, don�t let me die�. Cheesy, I know, but I meant it probably more than I�ve ever meant anything. But it was out of my hands - here was a single thing I could do. I kept scrambling as the wave came in, and I just held on to - I don�t know - my �inside�, I think, if that makes any sense. The wave broke a few feet behind me, and the white water pushed me down onto my hands and knees. But I was safe. I clambered up the rocks, tearing myself to shreds in the process and somehow, when I got out and up to the sandy part, I managed to cordially greet the two sunbathers who were sitting there, despite the fact that I could barely wal and was dripping with blood. Walking, or rather stumbling, over the rocks and sea-shells, I realised that I was out and that I was alive. I am now seriously spooked. I think I�m probably in shock because I�m very jumpy and just generally feel weird. To really face that life or death, to really think that my life, everything that I was, was going to be extinguished was awful. I don�t really know what to make of it. I think I need to talk it through with someone, because at the moment I�m feeling completely fucked out by it.

Apologies for all of the multiple postings - Netscape seems to have gone crazy again. I have talked through everything that happened, and I'm much more at ease with everything, which is good :)

Do you realise that you're the only people who have ever read my diary?

Mike, do you know about inner?

inner? nope. new conf?

i'm certainly glad you came out alive! and thank you for feeling safe enough with us to share your private thoughts *hugs*

Really, I'm grateful we're such a caring group. There are places on the net that are insensitive and places where you would get beat up pretty badly. We've become a safe haven.

Oh, cool!!! It's GREAT that you're in love, Mike!!! Don't forget to keep us up to date with that in inner, okay? Oh, and great to have you back! That thing with the wave sounds really scary. For me just standing on a surf board IS a near death experience - so this is like . . . mega cool!

Mike, glad to hear you are out there experiencing life instead of letting it experience you for a change. Hope to see you in "inner" also.

And how are you, Autumn?

Do I really have to change conferences?? I don't wanna go to inner, I wanna stay here..... *sulk*

Don't sulk, just give us the details, please! Don't care where! Does Michelle live in London? How often can you see her?

yes, don't keep us waiting!

You don't want Michelle logging on and reading all your private thoughts in cyberspace, do you??? Then get on over to inner so she'll think you don't kiss and tell. BTW, I'm good, Riette. I've recovered from my reunion.

ah-ha! so you are as old as everyone else...

What does that mean? I suppose we are all as old as everyone else.

Some of us are even older.

All in the mind.

And a little around the eyes.

ALOT around the eyes in my case. I dread to think what I'm going to look like in 10 years' time. Insomnia makes my eyes look about 20 years older than the rest of me.

do you have problems with insomnia, riette?

okay, okay...good point about the kiss and tell business. inner it is :)

to be honest though, my buggered up life of the last few months is global read only at the moment, so it hardly matters =)

OH, who cares, Mike? It's not like you're going to bump into your readers in the street or anything! Yes, Ray, I have terrible insomnia. Don't ask me why: I don't worry, I don't relive horrors of the past (ha-ha!!) or anything like that. I just can't switch off. Also makes the temper worse.

" I just can't switch off." perfect description...

i'm sorry to hear that riette. have you seen a doctor? i am thinking that you need a complete workup in terms of diet, lifestyle, medical exam, etc, in order to figure out why you dont sleep!

My doctor has been trying different things on me over the past 4 years, but without success. My health is perfect, my bloodpressure on the low side, and she says she really doesn't know the reason either, for she can find no medical explanation. Just one of those things, I guess. The pain about it is that sleeping tablets make me so groggy the next day that I refuse to take them - it can't be good for one. And homeopathing medicine has no effect whatsoever. I try not to sleep during the day, and that usually gives me four hours or so at night. But when I do fall asleep during the day, I'm buggered. Like the other night - I literally didn't sleep AT ALL. I always say it's such a shame my children sleep so well - I would have been the perfect mother to deal with babies who cry at night; at least it would keep me occupied, and in company!

Have you researched sleep topics on the net? Is there anything new or useful out there for you. What time is it in Switzerland right now and how has your wake/sleep cycle been today?

what you need is a cassette tape - maybe of a play or a radio show. listen to it, the same one, every night. That's what i've done for the last five years. Now, whenever i go to sleep, i put one of the tapes on and because i know exactly what is going to be said, I don't have to concentrate; but, because there's noise and i'm listening, my brain basically switches off. try it - it works for me.

have you ever tried imagining yourself in a place you like and completely concentrating on it so that you can smell the air, feel the sun, or whatever? this works for me when i'm stressed. knowing that i'm safe and in a place i love allows me to relax and then i'm out. i also don't go to bed until i am ready to sleep.

Do you go to bed at wildly different times then?

If you do, you could try melatonin to give your body a predictable sleep/wake cycle. Also, the herb Valerian helps me get a good night's sleep when I need to it. You take it at least a half hour before bed and it is relaxing--and no groggy feeling the next day.

yeah, i used to take some herbal, non-habit-forming tablets. if you can't get them in switzerland, i could send you some.

What a funny coincedence - I've actually taken some good tablets last night. A new, also herblistic tablet, that my doctor thought off while giving Chris a check-up yesterday. I needed three, but slept like a baby, and feel just great this morning. No grogginess, and NO tiredness!!!! I've tried that tape thing, Mike, but never with voices - always my favourite music. Usually I listen to Bach, which is my favourite place to go as well!, but I get so into the music that my mind becomes even more awake. How can anyone go to sleep in the midst of such profound genius? But next time I'll try it with voices. You should record me one of those tapes with you saying, 'You are feeling sleepy!', some time! But thank you for the advice, everyone - it is appreciated! I'll look for in on the web as well. Basically I don't really want to lose the insomnia, because I just love the quietness of the night, working away without kids and phones pestering me. It's just when it carries on for weeks on end that it becomes a pain, because I get so tired that I have this constand veil of tears in front of my eyes, and can't see properly. Plus having a temper is not much use when one has little kids to look after.

yeah, it never works for me with music. got to be voices. i used to take four herbal tablets, which used to knock me right out. never worked before exams, though, which was a shame.

You poor thing!

too much melatonin, though, and you have really funky dreams and a sort of hangover thing happening the next day...

What sort of funky dreams?

guess that would depend on the person... I just notice that mine are weirder after taking melatonin... must be the extra pineal stimulation...

PINEAL stimulation? Where's that?

Do I have a pinea?

that would be pineal, and yes you do...

where?

in your head

Gee, with such vulgarly named things in one's head, is it any wonder we get screwed up at times?

hehe :-) Can I make a suggestion? This topic is getting rather large and it might be a nice idea to freeze it and start a new one. That way any new people turning up don't have to feel put off by having 350+ postings to wade through.

my idea of a large topic is about 700-800 responses. but to be honest it is no big deal! i will freeze this puppy and start a new topic.

For telnetters it scrolls rapidly. For windows use 28/new. In drool we did not freeze a topic until it started messing up the posts. Some where around the 2000th as I recall.

My day's philosophy is a question: whether one should let kids watch Disney movies or not. Why? My little one was sitting on her potty, doing a $hitsy, singing, 'Kakuna-matata! Kakuna-matata!!''

lol! I see nothing wrong with taht! er... that!

I thought it rather hilarious that Disney lends itself to such puns! So much so that even a 3 year-old can figure it out!!!

Sounds like a good thing. No harm in that.

Not at all. I always say a person cannot develop a foul mind early enough.

My kids just walked in the door 15 minutes ago from seeing Tarzan at the $2 movies, and both basically said it was scary and violent. But they liked it! Some friends of mine boycott Disney because one of their subsidiaries is in the video porn business. They feel if Disney wants to project a family-friendly image they should divest themselves of these other interests.

I wouldn't call "Touchstone Pictures" porn...but they are R-rated and generally not family fare.

My kids love Disney movies, and I too think most of them (certainly not all) are well done. But the whole Disney-THANG stinks. And Disney land is on top of the list of things about the Disney industry that stinks. A perfect world of plastic where people are nevertheless clearly seperated by how much of this perfect world they can buy - the difference between staying in the Disney hotel and the Cheynne dump. The worst display of the evils of capitalism. A perfect world of plastic where you pay 4 times the normal price for everything. I don't know, in my mind it always brings up that image of, you can have ANYTHING you want in life - as long as you pay the price. Going to Disneyland was one of the biggest disillusions I've ever experienced. Especially when I saw a little boy of perhaps 4 years old, trying to sneak through the 2 hour qeue to go on the Pinnochio ride, and Goofy sneered at him something to the effect of, 'Get back in line, you little brat!'

I'd druther be boiled in oil or something equally dire than go to D-land. One of the sleaziest motels I have ever been in was across the street from the one in Anaheim, California. Never again! (That's where I was informed proudly that my Eudora had been purposely hacked so you-know-who could read my email while I was gone.)

God, talk about disillusionment!

Kakuna-matata! Kakuna-matata!! The motto of the Orenda Project is Ha-Tikkuna Mutata Olam.

What is the Orenda Project?

The Orenda Project is a modest effort to reverse the catastrophic mistakes that are leading our culture into an apocalyptic train wreck.

Got it. Looks cool!

I'm not sure you can make just a "modest effort" to do that can you? :-))

Indeed!

Must take a great deal of commitment.

What have you got going on today, Ree Ree?

Today I had a haircut! Yeah! No more of that horrible business you saw on the video - it's all gone really short. No more paint in my hair, no more combing out knots, hair in my face or any of that nonsense. Only problem is I look like a 12 year-old boy....pretty appalling. Went for lunch with Chris afterwards, and people were STARING, including the waiter. I nearly said to him, 'Buggers can't be choosers, you know!' Yeah, it was a FUN day! What were you up to?

Running out to the country to rent a room, cleaning up the house, doing Friday things. It was a good day. Today I feel a bit of mailaise, not sure how to fix it.

Poor Terry-guy. I'm sorry to hear that. Any reason for feeling bad? Why are you renting a room in the country? Are you spending the weekend there?

I'm renting one of my rooms out to someone else. I guess you can't just peak out all the time, can you?

I guess not.

I'm in a drought -- a creative desert. Thirsty. Deep in artistic avoidance. Blocked. BlockING. Stopped. Creativity requires *activity* ... Which leads me to my day's philosophy, even though it's already evening: "We learn to do something by doing it. There is no other way." -- John Holt (OK, it'll be my philosophy for tomorrow, too, so it gets a longer run. :)

We learn to do something by doing it. There is no other way. I'll remember that.

thats a good kick in the ass that i needed to get started today! good to remember that.

I'm thinking I need to write it on my hand in ink, like in junior high. ;) It sure is a lot easier to talk about writing than to sit down and face the blank pages.

You're SO right. I have this essay that I HAVE to hand in on Friday - about 1960's counter-culture. I know precisely what I WANT to say, but I just can't SAY it! But tonight I sat down, like your philosopher said, and just started writing ANYTHING that came into my head on the subject - and now I've done almost 3 full pages already. It really works! It's a JUST DO IT!-thing

What do you need to know?

Terry, she is missing out on a really great chance to pick brains if she does not talk to you about this essay. You are the very thing she needs!

Okay then. Terry, I need to know whether the term 'counter-culture' is a useful one with which to describe all the changes that took place in the 60's. The unit treats it as a 'no'. They argue that what took place was a kind of failed 'cultural revolution' (different of course from the one in China) - that it must have failed, since all those movements have since either falllen by the wayside, or have become a part of mainstream culture. Plus the woman who wrote the unit claims that counter-culture ch llenges historical continuity. I get the feeling we are expected to come up with a 'no' also, but I think it is a VERY useful term to be applied to the 60's. I think it was in no way a cultural revolution that took place, but cultural EVOLUTION. It bears all the characteristics, and therefore I think that counter-culture ENSURES historical continuity, rather than challenges it. I mean, if counter-culture didn't happen, mainstream culture would simply stagnate; and if one thinks of counter-culture as an evolutionary movement, then it is a sign of its success when it gets absorbed into mainstream culture, not failure. Am I WAY WAY off here?

No, you're right on, ree. As Bob Dylan and Paul Simon roll into Austin for a concert, I am reminded of my 60s days. The 60s boomers are now driving the most awesome economic boom in history and their values permeate succeeding generations like no other before it. Even though I'm driving a nice car, have my houses, and my net goings on, I'll never forget my roots in the inner city commune, the bus caravan, the hippie Farm, and the quest to Save the World. 60s culture permeates our lives like no other culture before or since. Far from having failed, it is continually on the verge or reawakening. We tried to build the world's largest vegetarian, nonviolent community in the 60s and 70s and, in a sense, we failed because there are only 200-300 people living on the 2,000 acres now in Tennessee, but many of the values we spawned live on in the people that have gone out in the world and not forgotten. The same is true of people that lived on backwoods communes in Oregon and communal pads in Louisville during this era, their scene has changed but they keep their values alive. Hey, any specific questions? That one was kind of broad, reehead.

No, no, I think it's great. If you, as a witness of the counter-culture think it a useful term, then I can get good marks arguing FOR counter-culture, because now I am CONVINCED of the validity of my argument. Hail Counter-Culture!!! Mum is of course very anxious to see how I'm going to do on this one, and wants a copy of the essay, so I'm having to be extra careful! But I'll let you know how it went, then you'll be proud of me, or disgusted!

I'll be proud o fyou no matter what. Are you going to wear your peace symbol necklace to the presentation?

Riette - HOLY THE BOP APOCALYPSE! Counterculture has been - as basically every trend - always been either smashed or bought. Look at, say, punk! NYC's seventies scene was very counter culture - they were both COUNTR and CULTURE, think Patti Smith, Lou Reed, etc. -, along comes Malcom McLaren, transplants the whole feeling to London, and BAM! you had the punk revolution! And look around today - it changed the whole way people thing of style, elegance, art. It's decayed already, substituted by HipHop counter culture, but it's there...

That's cooL!!! I'd LUV to have a thing like that! Especially if it is going to flicker like that! As it is, I'm afraid the only thing they will be seeing is the Star of David which the rabbi gave me when I took the mitzvah! A little conservative, you think????

OK. OK> I understand about the Star of David. How about a tie died t shirt? Check out http://www.hippynet.com

Read some W. Burroughs to them. Or, if it has to be German, something by Hadayatullah H�bsch - German beat Poet, writes since late 60ies, ran first German hippie shop, pop and drugs and literature, converted to Islam. (superstar 3/99 runs an interview with him... End of sales plug.)

Hadayatullah H�bsh??? With a name like that he must have been on a life long ego-trip! I'll try and get hole of Burroughs before Monday - that's when it's got to be done. What a shame they don't sell your mag at the kiosk...darn it! But thanks for the tips you both; at least now I've got more references to wangle in such a way that they'll support my argument.

He had a regular German first name, and at one point in late 60ies, standing in an African desert, he apparently had a religous experience (who do I have to tell about this here...). Subsequently, he studied Islam and converted. He takes this very serious; curiously, counter culture has kicked him out for that (sobering up, kicking drug use, giving up political dogmas, taking up religion), and the establishment never really forgave him, either. He is a German beat author, participates in poetry slams with the younger writers, does poetry and prose, publishes with tiny companies. Music is very important for him, he reads several music magazines, and is fascinated by pop culture. Riette, wie gut ist Dein Deutsch?

I'm sure it's just as good as her everything else!

Hmh, now, if I were to reciproke that with our Miss Colorado here, how good should your German be? (Bet you never read Hank's article I posted in the superstar top!)

I'm sure it should be better and your right... I never got too much past his passion for fishsticks!

Mein geschriebene Deutsch ist nicht so gut wie mein Englisch, ich verstehe aber so ungef�hr alles. Lese auch gern; mein lieblings Theaterst�ck ist Danton's Tod. Und Goethe finde ich genau so ausgezeignet wie Shakespeare; schade, dass Englische Uebersetzungen seine Arbeit einfach nicht w�rdig sind. Aber wenn Ich jetzt einen Schweizer Teenie w�re, h�tte ich Goethe sicher 'affengeil' genannt!! ha-ha! Wieso? Hast du einen Vorschlag f�r ein Artikel oder sowas �ber 'counter-culture' auf Deutsch? Ich w�rde GERN versuchen es zu finden! K�nnte so ziemlich alles gebrauchen - nur muss ich es SCHNELL finden k�nnen.

Dann will ich mal sehen, was der nette Onkel hier hat...

Der nette Onkel soll nur SCHNELL machen! Actually, I finished the essay last night - but if you can think of something without it causing you effort to find it, I'll be happy to read it.