dear livejournal,

i'm sorry i've been neglecting you. i've been spending entirely too much time with facebook. and instead of speaking about my life and times in long winded rambly paragraphs, i have limited myself to short status updates, trying to be clever and funny in as short a space as possible. I think i'm actually looking forward to the New Job so that i won't have nearly the same amount of time to waste on facebook, and maybe my thought process can go back to something longer than 140 characters. Don't worry livejournal, i'm working my way back to your loving embrace. They sent me more stuff about my security clearance, so later when the full panic sets in, i'll be needing a place to vent/procrastinate. you bring the wine, livejournal, and we'll call it a date.

yours fondly,

donna

looks like i'm going to 40 year.

AAAARRRRRGGGGGGHHHHHHH!

that is all.

i have no words.

life rolls on...

i had a meeting today that i guess maybe could be considered to be about a job. A job where i don't know exactly what they want, nor do i know what they'll pay me. and it could lead to something bigger, but i doubt it.

A friend has asked me to do some sewing work for her, which i find just...odd. i mean really, I'm doing freelance tailoring? WTfuck? 

Another show has started at the theatre. I'm painting the set and designing the lights. it's going about the same as every other show. the previous show left a mess. and the lighting wench didn't ever put thing back up after the last show. dispite that being a month ago, she still hasn't taken car of it. and when I offered to do it, I was denied. At least I was denied because she realized it was part of her job, but it's still delaying me from doing my job, and i like meeting my deadlines. 

I'm actually running for the board of the theatre this year. it's me, some new lady, nd one third of hte on-holy trinity. and two open spots. it's not unlike the popularity contests of high school homecoming court. I just hope i wear the right outfit! seriously, you know?

and as if i wasn't doing enough at the theatre, i got a serious case of helium hand in regards to our bog fundraiser this year. i hope i don't screw things up.

I miss the sca. I miss events, and seeing my friends, and i really miss having a local group that i can tolerate. I sometimes think of moving, just so i can have a shire i'm not totally ashamed of. I miss creating things and learning new things, and sitting around talking about nothing for hours on end.

 I also miss school. it doesn't help that i still have friends there who tell me about the classes thay are taking that i don't get to take. If i has only waited, i could have has connellly for senior sem instead of suffering through it with dr pitz. then again i do not miss the stupid stupid stupid 19 year olds i was going to school with. grad school is sounding more and more appealing...maybe i'll ask daddy to buy me a GRE test for christmas...

There's a basket guild meeting this weekend. I'm going, but I'm not sure why. I have no interest in the project this month, and i don't really relish the bonding time with this particular group of women. but i'm still on the board there, and i'm heading one of our yearly projects, so i feel obligated to go and make sure we're still on track with that. My term is up at the end of this year, and i'm ready. very ready. so ready. I might not even renew my membership kind of ready.

and then we're off to Bishop Hill for the Clay and Fiber Festival. sounds exciting huh? yeah...The plan is to sit out there and demonstrate another kind of fiber art for them. blah blah blah. I'm going for the fabulous pie at the Red Oak, and their ever so tasty lingonberry tea. Also to talk to Jeffery about theatre stuff.

I guess he's coming with Judy when she visits next weekend to help Rene string her loom. I stand by my claim that Jeffery, the i swear i'm not gay potter is in fact gay, but Rene thinks he's coming along to flirt with me. um...whatever. if "flirt" translates to he wants to go see musical theatre with me then we're golden. mostly i think Rene's off her rocker.

My cat lets me continue to live each day. i can see her murderous rage in her eyes. She's taken to sleeping near my head -possibly too more quickly smother me. and she likes to pin one arm down so that i can't sneak away. I keep the food bowl full. a second water dish in the bedroom has greatly reduced the number of times she's tried to trip me in the middle of the night when i go to the bathroom.

That's about it. except when it's not. but it's enough for tonight.

The event I was worryiing over has come and gone. it was not what I expected, which in many ways is very good. There is some fallout, but it's also different from what I thought it would be, which makes sense. I'm trying not to churn the event over in my head too much. Rethinking things will probably only drive me crazy.

Things seem so much clearer now. The clarity is the thing that's scaring me the most.

part of my past is catching up with me today. and for those of you who don't know, my past and i are not great friends.

at first i was worried, and thinking of avoiding the situation. Then there was a very nice conversation, and i started thinking that this thing might be okay.

Except now my heart is racing, my nose is running, my throat is tight, and my eyes are leaking.

I am often surprised what does and does not trigger these anxieties. maybe things will be fine. I know I'm a worst case senario type of person, and i think sometimes by planning for the worst, I am then able to avoid it. Bettter to have aback-up plan and not need it, than the other way around, right?

fret. fret. fret.

now if i could find a comproble video starring Sara Lee.

Remember that conversation where you told me you sometimes wondered why i posted some of these postcards?

Well, this one I''m posting just for you.

I"ll admit that most days I try to stay blissfully unaware of what's going on in the world. But I'm also not a total hermit, so I've heard the story about the "black scholar" who was arrested, but I've done my best to avoid stories about racial profiling and the other political crap that this story has stirred up. And then today, I'm reading the headlines, and someone finally mentioned the guys name. I can't freaking believe that in all the press coverage over the last few days that it took until today for his NAME to leak through. Henry louis freaking Gates. Black scholar? It's not like this is just some guy who has a fancy degree and teaches at the local college. It's Henry freaking Louis no shitting there I was Gates. (jr.) Not that there wasn't some cause for upraor before, but of all the people....it's almost comical. Henry louis Freaking Gates. holy crap, folks, holy crap.

Dear Captain Morgan,
 
it seems strange calling you captain like that. We've been so close for so long, but i didn't want it to sound like a Dear John letter right from the start. But that's what it is, and i feel like I owe you an explination.

I know we've always had trust issues. We've gone through our ups and down over the years, but I've always come back to you. And when I broke up with the other Morgan and said you were the only Morgan in my life, I wasn't lying. You still are and always will be the only Morgan in heart. Even though I never thought it would happen -that i would never find someone to take your place, that's what has happened.

It started when I took that trip in June. I thought maybe it was just a vacation fling. Even the night I met him I was still flirting with a few others. (You know how I like to play when I'm away from home!) He didn't really seem like my type. the guy who introduced us bragged about him, saying that he would kick your ass and then sleep with your girlfriend. So maybe some of my attraction was just to prove him wrong. He was all in black and just a little too trendy for my tastes. I was pretty sure we'd have a little fun that night, but then I'd come home and forget all about him. But then he touched my lips and I....sorry, you don't need to hear this from me.

I never really expected to see him again once I got home. I swear. Sure, maybe i'd look him up on the internet, but I didn't think it would ever be serious.  Then I started seeing him around town. I couldn't believe it. there he was, in my grocery store! I want you to know that I haven't brought him home. I've been tempted, but i knew I couldn't do that without talking to you first.

But it's pretty serious. He's all I think about. i've told my dad about him. And later tonight i think I might introduce him to some of my girlfriends. I think I might love him. Who knows? maybe in a few months things will be different and I'll be full of stories about how he did me wrong, caused me to look like a fool, and left me crying hugging my toilet. But I don't think so and I owe it to myself to find out. Maybe I will come crawling back to you, and if I do i want both of us to know that I was always honest with you. even about this.

I hope we can still be friends. I know that sounds like a line, but I really do mean it. We're still going to see each other. you have been such a force in my life for so many years. And I know that I'm not going to be able to go to any of my favorite bars without running into you. He's not really much of a bar type, maybe once folks get to know him more, he'll start showing up and hanging out.

But you and I? We will still joke.  We will still dance. And maybe some night after one too many drinks, I'll slip and remember all the good times you and I have had together and fall back into your amber embrace. You have always made me feel good about myself and the world around me. You have never  judged me and never ever abandonded me. And I am so grateful to have met you. but it's time for me to move on.

I'll see you around.

donna

that is all.

"Be moved, be inspired, be appalled, but be silent."

I found this happy little quote from a literature professor discussing analysis of poetry.

oh the irony of me not being silent.

and the guy who is paid to teach others how to analyze literature saying that you shouldn't analyze literature.

But what really scares me is if I took about thirty seconds to think about it, I could tell you the critical technique that he is using.

...and that would be putting my expensive education to use.

I am equally appalled and inspired by the quote, depending on what subject matter it is applied to. (ending a sentence with a preposition! gasp! horror!)
 
Literature? the guy is a idiot, although perfectly entitled to his preference of criticism. (a form of reader response, by the way. Turns out I can't make my brain not think about these things)  

Religion? Print it up on bumper stickers, baby.