Undated (but definitely 1979)
To me, I am my world, I am the only thing in this world
I am the only thing
the world around me doesn't matter because I am me
and if I'm bad, or fail at life
the only one to know is me
I am not part of this world
I am not part of this life
I am not part of this world, I am not who I am
I am not a part of this world
I am not who I am, I am not who I am
I am not a part of me
I am not who I think I am
You will not deceive me, and you who will die
You will deceive me, and now you must die.
August 13, 1978
The waves flicker with sunlight in play
and they have long since they were born
and they will always be the same
never changing, never wanting, never wishing.
They will shine. The sun will play upon their happy caps,
and slightly brighten their unending depths.
And no, they will never change
never deceive you, the are never to blame.
And those of us who watch them play
upon a bed of unknown land in the mists of everlasting rest,
with only the wind to blow their playing peaks
to shine for us, those who will never be...like waves.
November 1, 1979
I was once as dead as all dead could be
I laughed my laugh and dreamed my dreams.
I could cry and smile and stare from my eyes
and speak of things that meant nothing,
to no one,
but me.
The only thing to me was to be
my only joy was sorrow
I weep my laugh
and sobbed my fears
and screamed my sleep in angered mirrors.
Mirrors of life, my eyes, they were
No one could touch them to reach me, to hold.
To capture my glance a thought you must hold:
my glassy eyes were meanings, surrounded by verbs.
Words trickled past my lips
quivered while they spoke.
Thoughts so mixed up in my mind
faster than my tongue could move,
then abandoned thoughts were left far behind
as my mind raced new ones for me to find.
My mind explodes with thoughts still now
racing forward, faster with time.
Too bad my lips move no more,
for my eyes know the darkness
that no one else knows.
November 12, 1979
Black satin midnight
floating on a dream
yellow hazy moonlight
in moonlit lightening beams
dance upon the willow trees
hazy, still, unseen
Lazy stars in darkest sky
dancing very slow
wishing me a happy life
as I'm growing old
fairies from the fairy tales
sing upon the lazy night
castles forbidding me and you to enter in the light
Cobwebs look like snow to me
and trees are waving slowly
fly away the moonlit sky
and night is wearing down
slow and quiet is the night
when I was born to die.
===========================================
Embarrassment. Yep. Embarrassment keeps me from posting. Many dramatic "poems" declaring my teenage feelings.
Why can I throw this up now? I made a decision. I have been wall-to-wall Twilight Saga for the month of December. I do not see it ending anytime soon. I have been reading furiously - not just Meyers but Gaiman too. I think of my postings and how they make me cry sometimes while I write them.
Pride makes me say out loud that these posts are better than Meyers writing - even on a bad day. These poems are like Meyers. They were written as a child. Yes, I know that I have not sold a franchise worth of material. Heck - Google Ads kicked me off before I received my first deposit. But still. My posts are not a book. I should not compare them to works of fiction. It is difficult for me to not judge. I am judge. that is what I do. It is natural and easy for me to believe that I am superior.
I do not make New Year's resolutions. Perhaps I should rethink. Perhaps I should continue to write - especially the journals that come out of my box and go quickly back in. What am I waiting for? What can I possible be afraid of at this point?
/cheers to 2012
Showing posts with label Embarrased. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Embarrased. Show all posts
Saturday, December 31, 2011
Friday, April 9, 2010
Maybe I imitate others because to be myself might mean - NOTHING
"Do not be ashamed of yourself; this above all else, is the root of your problem."
"The Brother's Karamazov" Dostoevsky
August 27, 1986
Who is this person whom you call Sue?
I'm not really sure you know.
You surround yourself with other people whom you don't like nor do they like you much either.
I look back at these pages in disgust. I am so whiny. I complain all the time. Here I sit as god and proclaim others - my rivals - to be less than myself.
Well, Sue, you know yourself where you stand. You are lower than all - you plummet the depths of insecurities - above all else you are ashamed of yourself and of your behavior. Constantly imitating others yet criticizing them while pretending I'm not like them at all. I must recall e.e. cummings - "To be nobody. but - yourself - in a world which is doing its best, night and day, to make you everybody else - means to fight the hardest battle which any human being can fight; and never stop fighting."
Maybe I imitate others because to be myself might mean - NOTHING - I am so untrue to myself.
How can I break down my barriers to my self?
Maybe, this is the criticizing I perform. ABOUT EVERYTHING! It could be very telling about myself - what I choose to criticize. I've often read that Virgo's are critical by nature - well fuck that; it is no excuse.
I complain about other people's messy houses - yet I am one of the biggest pigs around.
I complain about how others are raising their children - could it be I worry about my own shortcomings?
Ah, at last a post acknowledging that I understand that there is something different about me. I knew I would come across an intellectual entry. I have a post-it note stuck in one of my notebooks written by a therapist that I knew in Stillwater. A kind soul that counseled me for free. The note says simply: "incidents in which I was not sure how to act as a 25 year old woman." I had been struggling with what was a "normal" way to be, to act. I have always wondered how to act. This was something he was helping me with.
I wondered why the girls got along so well in elementary school - it never came easy for me. One incident stands out clearly and painfully in my mind. We had hooks outside of our classroom that were inset into the walls. A gaggle of girls around me, fifth graders - Mrs. Loney's class - were hanging up their coats and fawning over one girl. "oh, I like your skirt!" they exclaimed. The girl turned towards me, actually, turned towards the classroom door, I looked her straight in her eye, "I don't" I stated. Quiet. Silent, shocked. I just remember that. The silence. I realized I had said the wrong thing. I misunderstood what was happening. People were not giving their opinions of her skirt - they were complimenting her - a friendly gesture. As I worked my way through elementary school, I "worked" my way through "friends", by the time we were in seventh grade, a new school, I had the opportunity for a whole new set of people to reject me.
Just as it is for me as a child, I had few friends as a adult. People have trouble "reading" me. I come across as harsh, or rude, or disinterested. People who stick with me long enough, learn that I am actually a very kind person. I act as if I know everything, as if I am an expert in everything. This is my coping mechanism. I cope with my inability to "read" the intent of people easily by acting as if I am superior to them. People who call themselves my friends, know this. They accept it as who I am. They laugh with me at my boasting statements of "I know best" and "Prove it!". I am just quirky. I have strong opinions.
"The Brother's Karamazov" Dostoevsky
August 27, 1986
Who is this person whom you call Sue?
I'm not really sure you know.
You surround yourself with other people whom you don't like nor do they like you much either.
I look back at these pages in disgust. I am so whiny. I complain all the time. Here I sit as god and proclaim others - my rivals - to be less than myself.
Well, Sue, you know yourself where you stand. You are lower than all - you plummet the depths of insecurities - above all else you are ashamed of yourself and of your behavior. Constantly imitating others yet criticizing them while pretending I'm not like them at all. I must recall e.e. cummings - "To be nobody. but - yourself - in a world which is doing its best, night and day, to make you everybody else - means to fight the hardest battle which any human being can fight; and never stop fighting."
Maybe I imitate others because to be myself might mean - NOTHING - I am so untrue to myself.
How can I break down my barriers to my self?
Maybe, this is the criticizing I perform. ABOUT EVERYTHING! It could be very telling about myself - what I choose to criticize. I've often read that Virgo's are critical by nature - well fuck that; it is no excuse.
I complain about other people's messy houses - yet I am one of the biggest pigs around.
I complain about how others are raising their children - could it be I worry about my own shortcomings?
Ah, at last a post acknowledging that I understand that there is something different about me. I knew I would come across an intellectual entry. I have a post-it note stuck in one of my notebooks written by a therapist that I knew in Stillwater. A kind soul that counseled me for free. The note says simply: "incidents in which I was not sure how to act as a 25 year old woman." I had been struggling with what was a "normal" way to be, to act. I have always wondered how to act. This was something he was helping me with.
I wondered why the girls got along so well in elementary school - it never came easy for me. One incident stands out clearly and painfully in my mind. We had hooks outside of our classroom that were inset into the walls. A gaggle of girls around me, fifth graders - Mrs. Loney's class - were hanging up their coats and fawning over one girl. "oh, I like your skirt!" they exclaimed. The girl turned towards me, actually, turned towards the classroom door, I looked her straight in her eye, "I don't" I stated. Quiet. Silent, shocked. I just remember that. The silence. I realized I had said the wrong thing. I misunderstood what was happening. People were not giving their opinions of her skirt - they were complimenting her - a friendly gesture. As I worked my way through elementary school, I "worked" my way through "friends", by the time we were in seventh grade, a new school, I had the opportunity for a whole new set of people to reject me.
Just as it is for me as a child, I had few friends as a adult. People have trouble "reading" me. I come across as harsh, or rude, or disinterested. People who stick with me long enough, learn that I am actually a very kind person. I act as if I know everything, as if I am an expert in everything. This is my coping mechanism. I cope with my inability to "read" the intent of people easily by acting as if I am superior to them. People who call themselves my friends, know this. They accept it as who I am. They laugh with me at my boasting statements of "I know best" and "Prove it!". I am just quirky. I have strong opinions.
Tuesday, April 6, 2010
Do you know what to do
March 18, 1986
We never talked about sex, ever. I discussed it once with my mother when I was in fifth grade. I was in Mrs. Loney's class and we were on the Sex Education unit. My dog, Sandy was having her period. I said to my mother, "Sandy is menstruating." My mom said, "Yes". That was it. When I talked once more about it with her I had my first period. It was Christmas, and I was in seventh grade. I said, "I have my first period". She said, "Do you know what to do? There are some pads under the sink." That was about the extent of it.
My family growing up was very repressed. We are the children of an Aspergian Doctor and (I believe) a Valium mother. My youngest sister called poop "Bomb-o-mint". It wasn't until I was an adult, that I understood that she was trying to say "Bowel Movement". Who teaches their children that? Crazy! I can remember my dad in the corner of my brain asking if I needed to have a bowel movement as a child. It is only a flash, a shadow, as most childhood memories are to me. Bowel Movement! Repression!
Repress all bodily functions! Never speak of them. They were cause for embarrassment.
I cannot remember why I reminisced about this in my journal at this time.
We never talked about sex, ever. I discussed it once with my mother when I was in fifth grade. I was in Mrs. Loney's class and we were on the Sex Education unit. My dog, Sandy was having her period. I said to my mother, "Sandy is menstruating." My mom said, "Yes". That was it. When I talked once more about it with her I had my first period. It was Christmas, and I was in seventh grade. I said, "I have my first period". She said, "Do you know what to do? There are some pads under the sink." That was about the extent of it.
My family growing up was very repressed. We are the children of an Aspergian Doctor and (I believe) a Valium mother. My youngest sister called poop "Bomb-o-mint". It wasn't until I was an adult, that I understood that she was trying to say "Bowel Movement". Who teaches their children that? Crazy! I can remember my dad in the corner of my brain asking if I needed to have a bowel movement as a child. It is only a flash, a shadow, as most childhood memories are to me. Bowel Movement! Repression!
Repress all bodily functions! Never speak of them. They were cause for embarrassment.
I cannot remember why I reminisced about this in my journal at this time.
Friday, March 26, 2010
It is very high pitched too! It drives me nuts!
February 3, 1982
Aja never shuts up now-a-days. She mumbo jumbo's all the time. She is just beginning to learn some words like doggie and kittie (sic). She says kitty without the "K" and a very guttural doggy like daddy in a way but she knows the difference. She goes "auf" when she hears us talking about dogs or when she sees pictures of them. And when she wants something (Anything) she says "Muh" and points in the direction of her wishes whatever they may be. And it is very high pitched too! It drives me nuts! I wish she would learn the words but it will take some time.
She is just beginning to run. Which is difficult if you think about it. We chase her all over and she laughs! It is a fun game. I wish it were spring. I can't wait until this winter is over. I want to go to the parks and play outside and things but it is so cold out that we can't and it takes 10 minutes to dress Aja to go anywhere.
It became a law on the first of the year that babies have to ride in car-seats. Aja just loves hers. It is one that we pulled out of the garbage at Laurel Street. Randy and Bonita threw it out, all it needed was a head pad and fixing the pad going around the front. No problem. It works good too. Aja used it as a highchair for quite a while while she was prone to climb. Her highchair tray would rust her food because the paint had rubbed off, but recently we spray painted it and last night Aja and I gave it a bath and it looks really nice!
It has been difficult to record these early writings, Nineteen years old, still a baby myself.I am annoyed by my use of exclamation points! But I use - hyphens - all the - time - in my later writings - and still today. It is like the hyphen is my favorite key on the keyboard.
I am embarrassed by the way I speak of my daughter, how candidly I discuss being annoyed. I actually remember Aja's squeal. It did hurt my ears. High pitched or sudden noises frighten me and hurt me. That is an Asperger's thing. That doesn't excuse my lack of sympathy for my poor tiny daughter. It appears my Theory of Mind did not expand to include my baby's separateness from me.
I am embarrassed by my poverty. I am confused about the car-seat mention. I had a small gray car-seat when I brought Aja home from the hospital. Maybe I didn't have a larger one - a front facing one. I used duct tape to fix the head rest on the dumpster baby-seat. The highchair was given to me by my parents. They gave me my cradle, crib, highchair and rocking chair. They were all the same ones that I used. I had all second hand things. The ladies that I worked with at the Daycare Center threw me a shower and gave me their old baby clothes. I tie-dyed the stained t-shirts and onesies to hide the stains. They actually looked pretty cool.
I worked at a Daycare in Stillwater. it was a special program where the state pays your wage, while the company benefits from your service. The purpose is to pay for your training in period - or up to a year - and then the company hires you. The daycare did not hire me when the year was up. They instead replaced me with a new employee. I never understood why. As I think of it now, I bet that I was not the best worker, nor was I the best daycare giver. I really am annoyed by small children. I hate how they jump around and ask a lot of questions and hang on you. I just want people around me to sit still and make noise only when necessary.
I am very tolerant of my grandchildren though. I am much kinder to them than any other children. I tend to correct the behavior of children in public: scold at teens when they are acting up, chide whining children, ignore snotty toddlers. Although I have a much longer fuse when my grandchildren are concerned, I do still get annoyed by them at times. My husband and ianthe sometimes correct my behavior. I sometimes make the situation worse. Like grabbing toys away from Lil Miss Danger before she can grab it from her brother, stuff like that. I do things like that to the cats too, but the cats know to scratch or bite me to get away.
I see how awesome my youngest daughter ianthe is at being a mom. She was several years older before she decided to become a mother. She struggles with some of the same issues I have had, but she is so much more graceful than I am. She is such a nicer person than I ever was, than I ever am.
Aja never shuts up now-a-days. She mumbo jumbo's all the time. She is just beginning to learn some words like doggie and kittie (sic). She says kitty without the "K" and a very guttural doggy like daddy in a way but she knows the difference. She goes "auf" when she hears us talking about dogs or when she sees pictures of them. And when she wants something (Anything) she says "Muh" and points in the direction of her wishes whatever they may be. And it is very high pitched too! It drives me nuts! I wish she would learn the words but it will take some time.
She is just beginning to run. Which is difficult if you think about it. We chase her all over and she laughs! It is a fun game. I wish it were spring. I can't wait until this winter is over. I want to go to the parks and play outside and things but it is so cold out that we can't and it takes 10 minutes to dress Aja to go anywhere.
It became a law on the first of the year that babies have to ride in car-seats. Aja just loves hers. It is one that we pulled out of the garbage at Laurel Street. Randy and Bonita threw it out, all it needed was a head pad and fixing the pad going around the front. No problem. It works good too. Aja used it as a highchair for quite a while while she was prone to climb. Her highchair tray would rust her food because the paint had rubbed off, but recently we spray painted it and last night Aja and I gave it a bath and it looks really nice!
It has been difficult to record these early writings, Nineteen years old, still a baby myself.I am annoyed by my use of exclamation points! But I use - hyphens - all the - time - in my later writings - and still today. It is like the hyphen is my favorite key on the keyboard.
I am embarrassed by the way I speak of my daughter, how candidly I discuss being annoyed. I actually remember Aja's squeal. It did hurt my ears. High pitched or sudden noises frighten me and hurt me. That is an Asperger's thing. That doesn't excuse my lack of sympathy for my poor tiny daughter. It appears my Theory of Mind did not expand to include my baby's separateness from me.
I am embarrassed by my poverty. I am confused about the car-seat mention. I had a small gray car-seat when I brought Aja home from the hospital. Maybe I didn't have a larger one - a front facing one. I used duct tape to fix the head rest on the dumpster baby-seat. The highchair was given to me by my parents. They gave me my cradle, crib, highchair and rocking chair. They were all the same ones that I used. I had all second hand things. The ladies that I worked with at the Daycare Center threw me a shower and gave me their old baby clothes. I tie-dyed the stained t-shirts and onesies to hide the stains. They actually looked pretty cool.
I worked at a Daycare in Stillwater. it was a special program where the state pays your wage, while the company benefits from your service. The purpose is to pay for your training in period - or up to a year - and then the company hires you. The daycare did not hire me when the year was up. They instead replaced me with a new employee. I never understood why. As I think of it now, I bet that I was not the best worker, nor was I the best daycare giver. I really am annoyed by small children. I hate how they jump around and ask a lot of questions and hang on you. I just want people around me to sit still and make noise only when necessary.
I am very tolerant of my grandchildren though. I am much kinder to them than any other children. I tend to correct the behavior of children in public: scold at teens when they are acting up, chide whining children, ignore snotty toddlers. Although I have a much longer fuse when my grandchildren are concerned, I do still get annoyed by them at times. My husband and ianthe sometimes correct my behavior. I sometimes make the situation worse. Like grabbing toys away from Lil Miss Danger before she can grab it from her brother, stuff like that. I do things like that to the cats too, but the cats know to scratch or bite me to get away.
I see how awesome my youngest daughter ianthe is at being a mom. She was several years older before she decided to become a mother. She struggles with some of the same issues I have had, but she is so much more graceful than I am. She is such a nicer person than I ever was, than I ever am.
Saturday, March 20, 2010
I am a rich man
May 14, 1987
Tomorrow is the last day of classes at MCAD before next fall - YEAH! I am very happy school is over. Summer I can do anything I want - just be me. Ahhhh RELIEF! I've been thinking about what I must do. I promised myself another journal (visual) that I must do certain things: exercise, read, work. I notice the state of the house - this also must be dealt with - DREAD - and a garage sale must happen soon. I want to do it all. I want to balance it all out. I should make a list of parceling out the things I wish to do so I don't burn out on any one thing.
Also it came to mind I must write in my journals - anything - I just have to write - write often and with passion - must learn all I can about myself this summer - and the only way to do that is to write my butt off.
My classes I preregistered for today seem interesting and I am pleased at the schedule - Tuesday and Friday only so I am free to work the other days.I am taking Photo one, Video one, Science of Behavior and a Chinese Art and Culture class. Good!
Bonita Wahl said I could help her at film in the Cities. High school students in July and early August four days a week - fun stuff. I can work for Halle and possibly Norman Anderson. I have a feeling he won't call me to work though so I am not waiting for him or anything. I want to write up a serious resume and cover letter and apply for some position - possibly just a stupid job somewhere.
I want to hurt my mind with writing - writing poetry and stories and just stuff.
I want to clean my house - sparkling clean - rid it of pests - no mice, no roaches - no excess!
I want to clean my body, no chemicals, exercise it - healthy.
I want to pick my brains - to know myself - inside and out. To be surprised at myself - to assure myself of my goodness - to feel whole and well. To gain control of myself. To be empowered. To be beautiful. To be well.
Reading "Memoirs from the House of the Dead" (Dostoevsky) and I am feeling horrid. I have a common cold. One thing that stands in my mind is this..."He wanted for nothing...lived like a rich man." I like this thought. It is true, you can live like a rich man if you do not desire what you cannot attain. If you do not feel sorry for yourself - you will be alright. Herb Grika said today that jealousy is when you react to something being taken from you, but envy is want for what you do not have. There is a supreme difference between the two. Envy can spur two people to action to attain what they do not have but if envy (and jealousy for that matter) are held in check then you arrive at the state where you live indeed as a rich man.
If you want not - or want not for anything - you are like a rich man - who is satisfied with his lot in life.
This journal entry seems pretty boring. I cringe reading it, remembering that I asked every one of my teachers for job leads. I had so little experience in the world. I asked the Art History professor if he had any work for me over the summer, he told me I could come clean his house. Yikes.
I understand now, 23 years later, that I was probably annoying them. One teacher, Herb Grika, openly despised me. He was the teacher that asked me what I wanted to do in life. When I answered that I wanted to teach at a college, he laughed at me. He said, "you should teach high school students". I think he was trying to tell me that I wasn't mature enough to teach at a university. I think he was trying to hurt my feelings. I actually left MCAD at the end of the Fall semester the following year as a result. Transferred to the University of Minnesota to get an Art Teaching degree and license.
Teaching high school is a good and a bad fit for me. I like teenagers, but they react to "authority figures" warily. I yell at them, threaten them in cute ways, I am often misunderstood. I am abrasive and frightening. I am also very loved, many kids say I am their favorite teacher. I have a soft safe place in my heart for the awkward kids, the dark-siders, the emos, the special needs kids, the poor kids, the homeless kids, the native kids. I protect them. I watch them, help them with their schedules, advocate for them.
I believe that teaching is going to destroy me. I am a train wreck, running down the rails. I am an expert in my subject area, a leader in the district, and I hate my job. I hate it. I need a quiet place to work. I am looking at master's programs. I think Library and Information Science - with a focus on Digital Archiving. That sounds quiet doesn't it?
Tomorrow is the last day of classes at MCAD before next fall - YEAH! I am very happy school is over. Summer I can do anything I want - just be me. Ahhhh RELIEF! I've been thinking about what I must do. I promised myself another journal (visual) that I must do certain things: exercise, read, work. I notice the state of the house - this also must be dealt with - DREAD - and a garage sale must happen soon. I want to do it all. I want to balance it all out. I should make a list of parceling out the things I wish to do so I don't burn out on any one thing.
Also it came to mind I must write in my journals - anything - I just have to write - write often and with passion - must learn all I can about myself this summer - and the only way to do that is to write my butt off.
My classes I preregistered for today seem interesting and I am pleased at the schedule - Tuesday and Friday only so I am free to work the other days.I am taking Photo one, Video one, Science of Behavior and a Chinese Art and Culture class. Good!
Bonita Wahl said I could help her at film in the Cities. High school students in July and early August four days a week - fun stuff. I can work for Halle and possibly Norman Anderson. I have a feeling he won't call me to work though so I am not waiting for him or anything. I want to write up a serious resume and cover letter and apply for some position - possibly just a stupid job somewhere.
I want to hurt my mind with writing - writing poetry and stories and just stuff.
I want to clean my house - sparkling clean - rid it of pests - no mice, no roaches - no excess!
I want to clean my body, no chemicals, exercise it - healthy.
I want to pick my brains - to know myself - inside and out. To be surprised at myself - to assure myself of my goodness - to feel whole and well. To gain control of myself. To be empowered. To be beautiful. To be well.
Reading "Memoirs from the House of the Dead" (Dostoevsky) and I am feeling horrid. I have a common cold. One thing that stands in my mind is this..."He wanted for nothing...lived like a rich man." I like this thought. It is true, you can live like a rich man if you do not desire what you cannot attain. If you do not feel sorry for yourself - you will be alright. Herb Grika said today that jealousy is when you react to something being taken from you, but envy is want for what you do not have. There is a supreme difference between the two. Envy can spur two people to action to attain what they do not have but if envy (and jealousy for that matter) are held in check then you arrive at the state where you live indeed as a rich man.
If you want not - or want not for anything - you are like a rich man - who is satisfied with his lot in life.
This journal entry seems pretty boring. I cringe reading it, remembering that I asked every one of my teachers for job leads. I had so little experience in the world. I asked the Art History professor if he had any work for me over the summer, he told me I could come clean his house. Yikes.
I understand now, 23 years later, that I was probably annoying them. One teacher, Herb Grika, openly despised me. He was the teacher that asked me what I wanted to do in life. When I answered that I wanted to teach at a college, he laughed at me. He said, "you should teach high school students". I think he was trying to tell me that I wasn't mature enough to teach at a university. I think he was trying to hurt my feelings. I actually left MCAD at the end of the Fall semester the following year as a result. Transferred to the University of Minnesota to get an Art Teaching degree and license.
Teaching high school is a good and a bad fit for me. I like teenagers, but they react to "authority figures" warily. I yell at them, threaten them in cute ways, I am often misunderstood. I am abrasive and frightening. I am also very loved, many kids say I am their favorite teacher. I have a soft safe place in my heart for the awkward kids, the dark-siders, the emos, the special needs kids, the poor kids, the homeless kids, the native kids. I protect them. I watch them, help them with their schedules, advocate for them.
I believe that teaching is going to destroy me. I am a train wreck, running down the rails. I am an expert in my subject area, a leader in the district, and I hate my job. I hate it. I need a quiet place to work. I am looking at master's programs. I think Library and Information Science - with a focus on Digital Archiving. That sounds quiet doesn't it?
Thursday, March 11, 2010
Cris is gone on Vacation
I skipped these entries earlier because I was ashamed. I refuse to be ashamed for my lack of understanding when I was a twenty-something. I remember looking out the window, with my children - they were just babies - the oldest not even in kindergarten - pointing at the people waiting at the bus stop. I told them, "Look at them! Mindlessly going about their lives on auto-pilot, never once thinking about what their place in the world really is. They just follow the expectations set before them. Sad little people."
I never was a very nice person, I still am not. I have a sense of superiority. I look down upon, and judge people unfairly. I am quick to criticize. I am quick to anger. At the same time - and I have heard this about women/girls with Asperger's - I am very emotional. I cry easily now. I don't think I was quite so prone to tears as revenge as a young mother. I was evil. I enjoyed the fact that lies tripped easily off my tongue. I lie still, as easily.
I skipped these entries earlier because I wanted to portray myself as a victim. I played almost (or just) as large a part in my troubles as my emotionally-vampiric adulterous husband did. I should write all the entries - and let you be the judge...
January 4, 1987
Cris is gone for the good part of two weeks - or maybe a week - or at least 10 days. I will miss him, but I am looking forward to his vacation. It will be a good opportunity for me to get done some things that need doing. I need to take charge of my life - to go to the post office with Harris and ianthe while Aja is at school - mail all my letters and things like that...
I worked for Halle last week and made $56.00! I feel pretty good about it. I feel like taking out my machine and sewing somethings for Cris while he is gone to surprise him when he comes home.
I haven't bitten my nails for a few days and they already look pretty good. I wish to continue not biting them - self-control I need you right now.
"Is there anyone so wise as to learn by the experience of others?" - Voltaire
"The man who rows the boat generally doesn't have time to rock it."
January 4th is my oldest daughter's birthday. It seems that Cris decided to go away on the day Aja turned six, I can't remember if he left the day before, or after the cake. Was he actually "on vacation"? No, he was staying with another woman. I knew that. I tried to pretend that it didn't matter. I told him I would do anything, just as long as he didn't leave me.
February 2, 1987
Not much to say, I feel a bit depressed, I don't want to talk about groundhog day or candle mass day. I have lots of work to do - I must work and read and go to school. It seems endless - too much.
Cris is wonderful. He is so smooth like chalky butterscotch. His hair grows from his body delicately from each pore - the same color as his chalky skin. Matte features and skin. Wonderful. He is so fun and nice to be with of late. He is fun to joke and laugh with. I'm not feeling as inferior with him anymore either. Remember Sue to work on self-control and build up your self-esteem or confidence. Someday I will be a confident woman.
/cringe
I never was a very nice person, I still am not. I have a sense of superiority. I look down upon, and judge people unfairly. I am quick to criticize. I am quick to anger. At the same time - and I have heard this about women/girls with Asperger's - I am very emotional. I cry easily now. I don't think I was quite so prone to tears as revenge as a young mother. I was evil. I enjoyed the fact that lies tripped easily off my tongue. I lie still, as easily.
I skipped these entries earlier because I wanted to portray myself as a victim. I played almost (or just) as large a part in my troubles as my emotionally-vampiric adulterous husband did. I should write all the entries - and let you be the judge...
January 4, 1987
Cris is gone for the good part of two weeks - or maybe a week - or at least 10 days. I will miss him, but I am looking forward to his vacation. It will be a good opportunity for me to get done some things that need doing. I need to take charge of my life - to go to the post office with Harris and ianthe while Aja is at school - mail all my letters and things like that...
I worked for Halle last week and made $56.00! I feel pretty good about it. I feel like taking out my machine and sewing somethings for Cris while he is gone to surprise him when he comes home.
I haven't bitten my nails for a few days and they already look pretty good. I wish to continue not biting them - self-control I need you right now.
"Is there anyone so wise as to learn by the experience of others?" - Voltaire
"The man who rows the boat generally doesn't have time to rock it."
January 4th is my oldest daughter's birthday. It seems that Cris decided to go away on the day Aja turned six, I can't remember if he left the day before, or after the cake. Was he actually "on vacation"? No, he was staying with another woman. I knew that. I tried to pretend that it didn't matter. I told him I would do anything, just as long as he didn't leave me.
February 2, 1987
Not much to say, I feel a bit depressed, I don't want to talk about groundhog day or candle mass day. I have lots of work to do - I must work and read and go to school. It seems endless - too much.
Cris is wonderful. He is so smooth like chalky butterscotch. His hair grows from his body delicately from each pore - the same color as his chalky skin. Matte features and skin. Wonderful. He is so fun and nice to be with of late. He is fun to joke and laugh with. I'm not feeling as inferior with him anymore either. Remember Sue to work on self-control and build up your self-esteem or confidence. Someday I will be a confident woman.
/cringe
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