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!

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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