Katrina's Nonsoapy Journal
May 11, 2003
WHAT a frustrating weekend!
So, here I go, looking for the
good stuff. For Mothers Day, I got phone calls
from both of my Away Boys, which was nice.
Granted, I talk to each of them pretty much every day,
but it was good to hear the Happy Mothers Day. My
other older son, David, came over this afternoon. Today
is also his 23rd birthday, so we had cake and ice cream,
plus, he wanted friend burgers and homemade fries for
dinner. He played with the kids for a while and I
made a photo album and collage
What the
complete hell?
This Jenny Craig announcement is
totally offensive!
BOYCOTT, BOYCOTT!! "When I saw pictures of myself
on our family vacation, I destroyed them. When
you're 178 pounds, you don't want to be reminded.
When I realized I was removing myself from my family's
memories, I called Jenny Craig." You know
what? FUCK YOU! I'm well beyond 178 and so
what if I'm reminded? Take the picture, put it in
the album and get over it! Anything short of "when
I realized I was removing myself from my family's
memories, I called a freaking psychiatrist for intensive
therapy," is unacceptable. What an insecure, crazy
bitch. Shame on Jenny Craig for acting like we
shouldn't have pictures taken because we aren't a size
6.
photo album and collage of
pictures of him through the years. I also put
pictures of the little kids over the years, as well as
some recent ones. I was surprised that I was able
to fill up a full album. He had a nice birthday, I
think. Josh's 21st is on Friday and he's debating
coming home and having mom's cooking and cake and ice
cream versus staying in Fortuna and trying out a
21-year-old ID card with his buddies.
Dylan made me a really sweet
refrigerator magnet that looks like a flower with is
picture in the bloom and "From your little sweet pea"
written on it. Delena gave me a pen wrapped in
florist tape with a little silk flower on top. She made
a pot out of a baby food jar and filled it with dried
beans so it would stand up. :) Eric couldn't
really be bothered, his philosophy be (and outright
statement when I mentioned it was Mothers Day) being, "You aren't my
mother." Don't get me started. Men just... I dunno. When I was talking in my last entry about
how there are some things I just don't get at all, you
can put men at the top of the list. How in the
name of god they manage to walk and not run into walls I
can't even imagine. It makes me thing of the old
joke about how God gave a man two heads and only enough
blood to operate one of them at a time.
You
know what is is the toughest thing is that I have a
really, really good one. I've met and known a
LOT of men in my time, intimately and otherwise and I
know that I have a wonderful husband, but sometimes
when I watch the words coming out of his mouth, I fear
for the lesser men of the world. I totally adore
him. He's handsome to a fault, smart as a whip,
spiritual, motivated and ambitious, a wonderful dad, a
great provider, a supportive partner and a romantic
husband. But damn. I mean just... damn. I'm definitely not
ready to trade him in, but some days, I'd sure be
willing to rent him out for a while.
Enough bitching, though. Enough! I've
got a great hubby and I'm proud of him and of us.
We've come through a lot of tough times and have
worked through some incredible obstacles to be as
close as we are, so I'm not going to let some
incredible, recurring insensitivities on his part
cloud over the good stuff. la la la. la.
frickin la.
As I was looking back over some of my old journal
entries, I noticed that I first started talking about
being depressed on the entry of March 27, so that's
well over a month, into 6 weeks. I *still* can't
seem to put a name to it. It's just a very
generalized feeling of dissatisfaction and unease.
It could well be a hangover from Mom's death still.
Today was really hard, knowing I couldn't send her
flowers, couldn't call and tell her I love her,
couldn't try to connect with her on some heart-felt
level beyond her reciting to me what she did all day.
I never, ever imagined I would miss her so much but
some days, it's almost unbearable. The pain I
feel wrapped around her death is threatening to make
me paranoid about losing anyone else. Eric
continually points out to me how good my life is and
truly, it is wonderful. There are so many
elements present that I've always wanted and it
appears as though it's only going to get better.
I still have faith in the push toward greatest good
and I really can't put a cause to my basic sense of
frustration. I feel like I'm waiting for "the
next big thing." It something like a sense of
introversion coupled with anticipation. It's
like there's a storm building that needs to break to
wash everything clean.
Strange stuff. Maybe it's hormones. I
feels like... energy. Eh. I'll let you
know. :) The winds of change are
definitely blowing and I can feel the energy of the
transformation welling up. Weird stuff.
Tomorrow is definitely and another day and we'll see
what blows in!
Love,
Katrina
The Shepherd
A Shepherd was
herding his flock in a remote pasture when suddenly a
brand-new BMW advanced out of the dust cloud towards
him.
The driver, a young
man in a Brioni suit,
Gucci shoes, Ray Ban sunglasses and YSL tie, leaned
out the window and asked the shepherd, "If I tell you
exactly how many sheep you have in your flock, will
you give me one?"
The
shepherd looked at the man, obviously a yuppie, then
looked at his peacefully-grazing flock and calmly
answered, "Sure."
The
yuppie parked his car, whipped out his lap top and
connected it to a cell phone, then he surfed to a NASA
page on the internet where he called up a GPS
satellite navigation system, scanned the area, and
then opened up a database and an Excel spreadsheet
with complex formulas. He sent an e-mail on his
Blackberry and, after a few minutes, received a
response.
Finally, he prints out a 150 page report on his
hi-tech, miniaturized printer then turns to the
Shepherd and says, "You have exactly 1,586 sheep."
"That is correct; take one of the sheep," says the
shepherd, and watches the young man select one of the
animals and bundle it into his car.
Then the Shepherd says: "If I can tell you exactly
what your business is, will you give me back my
sheep?"
"OK, why not." answered the young man.
"Clearly, you are a consultant." says the shepherd.
"That's correct," says the yuppie, "but how did you
guess that?"
"No
guessing required," answers the shepherd. "You turned
up here although nobody called you. You want to get
paid for an answer I already knew, to a question I
never asked, and you don't know crap about my
business.
"Now give me back my dog."
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