Katrina's Nonsoapy Journal


October 14, 2004

I was looking through past journals for a theme to stick with for a while and settled on this one from September 15th of this year.  I'm not sure if I just got tired of clicking links or if I really like it. I'm not feeling like myself lately and so I'm working on not making any major decisions.  Forget that what picture shows up on my nonsoapy isn't a particularly major decision, but these days, it feels like it.  I'll just do true journal style and list the entries one on top of the last for awhile. It will make posting easier.  This was originally called "Aimless Contemplation of the Coming Harvest Moon."  I figured cropping it to "Aimless Contemplation" pretty much covered what I do here.

Today has been an odd day.  The sun forgot to come up.  We have wildfires a good distance from here and the smoke is obscuring the sky so that there's an orange pall to everything and it's extremely overcast.  The pine needles have been falling like mad, so the road is about 7 inches wide with huge margins of needles eating up each side and they are almost exactly the same color as the air.  The sun is a red jackball in the sky.  White ash is snowing over everything.  Last night, Eric shined a high powered flashlight up in the darkness and it looked like a blizzard.  We aren't in any danger, but it's really strange outside.

Last night, Eric stopped by to check the hospital and see how our dog, Spooky, is doing and was told he has already been adopted out.  Our neighbor had agreed to adopt him for us over a week ago and I prayed that she'd picked him up, but a phone call revealed that she never made it down to check into it. So he's gone and he's not coming back.  It was a little stunning for all of us to have it be so final.  I still miss him every day.

In the Tarot, there is a card called "The Tower" that means the breaking down of all you considered to be permanent and relied upon.  It comes up when the rug is being pulled out from under your feet and your world is turned upside a bit.  Certainly, I'm not in the worst place I've ever been, but I'm really feeling challenged lately.  I could feel that Spooky was going to come home and it went beyond just entertaining what I wanted to have happen.  I'm usually not wrong when I feel something that strong.  It's not even an ego thing.  It's more of a "huh?" thing.  My spidey sense is something I trust as much as my physical vision or my hearing.  It really throws me when it's so far off.

Eric got off on a tangent last night, complaining about a few things he doesn't like about me.  I couldn't even work up the energy to argue the points.  Just watched his mouth moving and forming the words.  My mind drifted to trying to remember the names of the ventriloquist and dummy on the show, "Soap."  Bob and Chuck, of course, the same first names as the Head Writers of General Hospital, except the roles are reversed.  Corrinne was married to... Father Tim!  Eunice was with Dutch the Convict!  Burt's son who was murdered multiple times in tandem was... Peter Campbell! Meanwhile, he continued on and on. 

"Are you doing that thing where you glaze over???"

"Benson.  I mean no.  I'm listening."

Jody's last name was Dallas and his father was Johnny Dallas who was Mary's first husband, who Burt inadvertently killed.  I think.  Cemented him into a bridge.  Yeah.

"...a pay site or even pop ups would generate at least SOME income for the hours you spend in front of that goddamned computer every day, hours for which our family receives no compensation..."

...then Burt told Mary that an airplane had landed on the freeway...

"...won't even ENTERTAIN the idea because you don't want to make your esteemed fans sad..."

...and the time he thought he was invisible and the bathtub scene where Mary said, "No, Burt, I can still see you" and he replied, "No you can't..."

"...using your resources babbling about a pay site being the kiss of death when you don't KNOW..."

...left the dummy, Bob, behind, on the booth seat, one leg swinging, and told the waiter Bob would pick up the tab...

"...depressed or not, there are certain obligations you are beholden to..."

...Robert Urich!  From Vegas!  That's who played the playboy tennis pro...

"...driving 5 hours a day and working a full day on top of that to not make enough money to live on, to have health insurance, to get a decent vehicle and here you sit..."

... Benson saying, "You want me to get that?"  heh heh heh

I never really know what to do with Eric when he's upset.  He goes into a "take no prisoners" mode and is out for the kill.  I've tried most coping reactions I know.  I've cried.  I've reasoned.  I've argued.  I've listened.  I've left.  Nothing seems to work short of letting him get it all out.  Fortunately, it doesn't happen that often any more.  I noticed a while back that I almost never get mad at him except in response to one of his rants.  Otherwise, he's a pretty decent guy and doesn't much piss me off.

But then, I am not easy to piss off to start with.  Once someone gets me to the point of really having me angry about something, they have to have pushed and pushed and pushed.  In other words, if you manage to piss me off, you must have really worked hard at it and ignored a lot of really blatant red flags.  At that point, I figured they've worked really, really hard to push my buttons and ignore my boundaries, so screw it.

People have been rearranging themselves in my life a good bit, which is common for this time of year.  As harvest closes, the things that won't serve you in the coming year fall away, by choice or by design.  By nature, harvest is a time of intense change, just as its opposite side, Spring is change.  One is life and one is a form of death.  When we harvest from the fields, part of the plant dies that we might live.  That means by its own dynamic, worn into time for thousands of years, harvest time is one of sacrifice and "survival of the fittest."  Maybe that's why we hold our elections just after harvest ends.  (ha)

My sweetheart, Sherry (she's such a good friend I will forever call her "my sweetheart," I think) and I were talking about this election and how it's really bringing out the teeth and claws in people.  It's pretty scary how bunged up people are getting about it.  There doesn't seem to be any "agree to disagree."  It's all out civil war and if you aren't voting for a person's patron candidate, you are casting a vote against the safety and sanctity of their family and them's fightin' words.  It's not just a difference of preference.  It's an attack on home and hearth.   

I'm a firm believer in things pushing ever toward their greatest good, so I'm not one to get all wadded up about what may happen or freaking out if things don't go my way.  I have one candidate that I warm to a bit more than the other one, especially since last night's debate.  I like the way he presents himself and what he has to say.  Sherry feels the same way about the other candidate, so we decided that since we'd just cancel out each other's votes, we'll clink together our beer bottles and agree to stay home and watch the bedlam ensue.  See, people, it's not hard.  You just understand that different people have different political needs and personal preferences, cast your vote, then stand back and let democracy do its thing.  Every four years, we spin the wheel and someone wins and someone loses.  Either way, I can't afford health insurance and who ever wins will go into office looking spit polished and emerge four years later looking 20 years older and like 47 miles of bad road.  I'd better be careful, or Sean Penn's going to write me a letter.


See ya later,