March 28th, 2002


Midday ramble

Tonight I'm getting those catalogs mailed out... two full xerox boxes completely stuffed full. I'm going to have to swallow hard a couple of times writing the check for postage. And they're raising rates again! ARGH!


I'll survive. I always do.

Got two orders out yesterday... have two business messages I *must* answer tonight... 3 orders left to do... also must remember to eat more today. And do RWH calendar. *kicks self*

Still feeling horribly stressed and a little panicked. It's better today, though, and I got a Dear LM written during lunch and sent in. Also worked on 'Creative Spark' article.

It is a glorious blue day, and it chafes that I'm stuck inside.

Gette, I owe you a long letter and I'm despairing of actually getting it written; I got the card you sent, and it completely, totally made my month! I keep wanting to write you a decent letter thanking you, but I just *suck* right now, so you get a blurb in my LJ and my conscience is soothed about this (*holds finger about 1 cm apart*) much.

Sylver, ditto on owing a letter. Hopefully you got your check by now, and of course I never forget you.

Yasha, you are a doll. A complete doll. Thank you for always making that effort to cheer me up.

I owe more of you thanks and appreciation and hugs and support, and I hope you know that you are in my thoughts and heart, even when I'm too wrapped up in my own stress and selfish goals to tell you individually. I am rich for having you as friends.
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    some oldies (this field needs more space, darn it!)

Some Jake Prose

I rarely write about Jake, mostly because he is so difficult to define, but also because what we have is rather... special... and I always feel like I'm bragging when I talk about him. That's a good thing, I think.

We met in college, and... I don't believe in love at first sight, I'm too practical, I guess. But I told him within 5 days, 'I feel like I've waited my whole life for you.' I don't advise using this line on men that you don't want to scare away. He later told me that he was *that* close to running, but that he knew, even then, that I was something special. And at 18, I was an unusual, horribly *young* person. I didn't know anything about people, or the way that they work, and I was awful (I mean AWFUL) at being social. I couldn't take criticism worth a damn, I was painfully shy, the geekiest, most timid creature you ever met, and I was recovering from the crippling depression that followed my back accident. I didn't know at that time that I was hypoglycemic, and my sugar (and lack of)-induced moods were sometimes stunning on the restrictive campus diet.

I am so glad he fell in love with me anyway.

I was swept off my feet at once. He was tall and handsome, and had longish, curly blonde hair and the most wonderful little 40s-ish glasses. He was a wild-firefighter, and loved Alaska. He had a really strong personality, was stubborn, and smart, and was, IS, a fantastic poet.

It wasn't a perfect relationship. By any means. I came from a family where raised voices were taboo; he came from one where screaming matches were par for the course. He wanted to know the 'why' behind everything. 'Why' in my family was an expression of disbelief. 'Why do you feel that way?' to him was a genuine question, to me it was a statement that it was wrong. He'd press a point until I cried, I'd hide from anything resembling a conflict. It took years to find middle ground. Fun years. Tough years. Years I wouldn't trade for anything.

Okay... gotta flee, and this post probably doesn't mean a hill of beans to any of you, but I had to write it, realizing that I haven't given my life partner the spotlight in my life-as-it-is-in-this-journal that he deserves. He is my other half. He completes me.
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