1000 Journals

I had heard about the1000 Journals project some time ago and was intrigued by the idea. In the current P&W magazine, there is a feature about it and I decided this is something I want to do with my blog family and anyone who wants to participate.

I will purchase a fabulous journal and make the first entry. I will then decide who to send it to from there, likely, anyone showing interest and letting me know they want to contribute. It can vere from my list, but I really hope it comes back to me. I will even offer postage to anyone needing it to send it on to the next person.

My hopeful list of participants includes in no particular order:

Rossi
Beth
Laurell
CJ
Chapin
Kristie
Alysha
Bookshop Belle
Happy Cynic
Solbeam
Suzie
Susan
wKen
(all my daily reads obviously!)
as well an anyone on DykeWrite who might be interested. Leave me a note in the comments section here, and then shoot me an email with your address if I don't have it already. I really want to see this project work!!

Second day guacamole from Pappasito's is zippadeedooda zippy!!

I have come to the conclusion, again, that I need to be much more focused about my writing if I am to take myself seriously. I need a good book about MS formatting. If anyone out there in the blobiverse has any recommendations, they would be greatly appreciated. I am off to see what classes might appeal at B + N .com.

I just don't (ever) feel like going to work anymore. That six months as a housewife has ruined me and I might just have to figure out how to regain that status.

Actually there is a psuedo-plan in the works. Once I am consistently making comission, I think I will take outside insurance so I don't need to maintain 35 hours a week. Less hours will also raise my comission, so it is a win/win. The trick is to decide how many hours to work. I am thinking 20-25 maybe, same days, just less each day or drop a day,that is the next question.

My mind is so often heavy with this particular discontent.

Viva Las Vegas!!

We left Wednesday afternoon for Vegas and had a whopping good time. The reason prompting my trip was that my friend Trisha was getting married. She picked us up at the airport Wednesday night and dropped us off at our hotel, the Westward Ho. What a dump it was. But, it was acheap dump, and all in all, not too bad. We gambled some and than shared a $1.49 3/4 pound chili cheese dog, which remarkably did not give either of us heartburn or indigestion.

We gambled a bit more and then went back to our rooom to test out the bed. yes, by more than just sleeping.

We did the hotel breakfast buffet which had a fresh egg station where Keith cooked us up some perfect over-medium eggs to cut up into our hash-browns.Keith is a skinny black man who can sing Motown *and* cook perfect eggs at the same time.

After breakfast we went out to catch the bus down the strip toward the finer casinos. We toured through the Bellagio where I won $76 on a Double Wild Cherry dollar slot. Woo!

The Bellagio is just so damn fine. Much more the atmosphere that E and I should be surrounded by. The pretty people stay there. The old retired mostly less than pretty people stay at the Ho. Of course that made us shining stars there...

Also we saw the Aladdin, as well as the Venetian. Both nice, but not as nice as the Belagio. (Since I am not sure if it is one L or two, I have used both spellings.) We went to the Aladdin because PF Chang's is there, and my friend Michael. an owner/manager at the Chang's I frequent from work gave me a $30 gift certificate for a lovely vacation dinner. We had the Shanghai dumplings, which are more like biscuits than traditional dumplings, as well as crab wontons and then we decided on a new entree, the appropriately-marked-spicy Mango Chicken. Too hot to taste all the flavors, but still not too hot to eat. I doubt we will order that again, but it was still a lovely meal. All that food plus two glasses of wine cost us just ten bucks and some change. I need to figure out which little souvenir I brought back will be for Michael.

The wedding was at the gazebo chapel at the Flamingo. It was a totally pleasant affair and E and I were Trisha's fluffers. If that wasn't an honor helping her get ready as she twittered around her suite in nothing but panties and deoderant. Her hair turned out lovely and her dress was beautiful. It was just a little ironic that the dykes were the ones helping her get ready. Perhaps there is a novel in there somewhere.

Yawn. More later.

What does it mean when you continually feel as if you are missing the obvious? I am not even quite sure that this is what I am indeed missing. But, I do feel like i am somehow coming up short. I have lately had more time to write, but it has not been at all productive. I suppose I have felt in need of a topic or assignment. Something to write *about* more or less. Maybe that means it is time for a class. Maybe that means it is time for something...

Something always seems to be lurking just beyond my mind's grasp. There has been plenty of thinking about writing. Just not much writing. At least I am not obsessing about it. It is what it is.

sunday morning and all is quiet in the house. There was quite a storm last night which completely flooded the front yard and street in less than an hour. This is a sucky thing because the yard man comes on Saturday morning and the driveway was so nice and clean. The up side of it all is that Alonzo will be back and will clean the drive again next Saturday. Even better, we leave on Wednesday for Vegas so we only need to look at the debris for a couple of days and whoosh! it will be gone when we return. Most of the water has receded and it was a healthy drink for all the planting we did last weekend.

We went on Friday night to shoot pool and I have discovered a new shot of choice. It is called a "red-headed slut" and it is equal parts yeager(sp?) and peach schnapps with a splash of cranberry juice...mmm...mmm...mmmmmmmmmmmmmmm...

I need to contemplate the importance of officially coming out to my folks. I can appreciate all the arguments for and against, and really there are none against other than my aunt saying they just do not need confirmation. We are planning an official party when we get hitched where families will be invited. E thinks my parents would be hurt to not be included and find out after the fact. I think too, that there is some underlying acknowledgement issue going on. I really believe my folks know, so it just seems odd to have to announce it to them because there is a small what if they don't know in the back of my mind.

I don't think that there will be even a ripple regardless of what they think about it as we are not an intimate family. I do think, however, that they should have the opportunity to buy us a gift. The question becomes do I tell them or just send them an invitation?

What a day yesterday was. It began with a dentist appointment with a new dentist to readhere a crown that came loose. It just couldn't be that easy. I have to go back next Tuesday for a temporary and on the 28th for the final. $700 is my share. And the dude is off for two weeks to where? France! Fucker...actually, the real fucker is my dentist whose office is closed this week for spring break. I might have been able to negotiate the fee lower since her original work did not hold up. So, now I have a new dentist.

Then, I went to Empire Cafe and worked on some writing for a couple of hours while I waited for E to get done work and join me for a late lunch. Always good food at Empire. We left there before 3 and the traffic on the ride home was so bad that I had to delay copying EP so we did not get it out last night. It will be available on Saturday.

I had told two households that I would do home cuts for them and was at one house at 5 and the next at 630. During that, Beth called and I told her yes we would be at lesbian happy hour, but that we would not get there til after 8. It was good to see some friends again.

While at the second house of cuts, My friend Lori told be about a performance at the Rhythm Room last night that she thought would be enjoyable. Bitch and Animalwere great fun and I strongly recommend you look toat their tour schedule to see if they will be in your area.

Home late.
Up late this morning.
Yoga sacrificed.
Nasty consequence.

I hate it when dreams are potentially shattered. It is just the most annoying thing. I did a little web seeking this morning and it is near impossible to get a work visa to work and live in France. This does not mean it can't happen, just that it will be more difficult and, sigh, might need some earnest planning. I hate it when things can't just *happen*.

This could present as the possibility that we are meant to live in a country other than France, but with easy access. Who knows. Just makes a goddess garden type business here more appealing. Of course, that still means a lot of *work*.

What a mood I was in at work the last two days. My patience was in shirt supply if not non-existent. I took my lunch break at 5 and went over to PF Chang's for a bowl of won ton soup. As usual, it was tres yummmm. My fortune cookie read "A handful of patience is worth more than a bushel of brains."

The universe speaks.

i still have not a single clue about why that sadness chose that particular day to surface, but it seems rather manageable. I suppose it is distracting me a little, to be truthful, but it is at least not overwhelming. I really hate it when that happens and I have little choice but to shut down. That has not happened in a long time.


Books to organize.

Laundry to purge.

I shed some tears today. I am still not clear about exactly why, other than I felt a profound sadness. I was sitting in yoga class this morning as we were getting ready to begin our meditation and Kathryn brought up something in the news today which reinforced for her how she benefits from intentionally avoiding papers and tv news. This thought morphed into a remembrance of 9/11 and if I was following her, how a million other good things were happening on this planet and how sad that many of those other things went totally unnoticed.

One of those other things is my birthday. I had an overwhelming urge to just retreat into the bathroom and bawl. I was able to stave off the tears, mostly, with just a few trickling down my cheek. I sat through class thinking of how I feel forever 37, as if that was the last year 9/11 would be my birthday.

Profound sadness.

On the ride to work, I had a discussion in my head with myself reasoning back and forth over if I was forever 36, or forever 37. I am still not sure why 37 won, other than perhaps the fact of waking that morning knowing it was my birthday before tragedy altered this. I spent a good portion of the day at work trying to discern exactly what the sadness was directly connected to. When I thought about it for a few moments I would feel tears welling up once again, and then I would return to following my breath, inhaling "peace"...2...3...4...5...6...holding...exhaling "Iam"...2...3...4...5...6...

There is still some residual sadness lurking around.

I feel as if this is not an aging crisis as I am perfectly content in my life. Life is good. I am so very happy. All will be revealed as it is supposed to be.