May 8th, 2001

Chalkboard

(no subject)



I just found this link to a name generator on caitlin's page.

Jacqui Hyland from this day forward
you will also be known as MONICA BAKER

Scott Turchin from this day forward
you will also be known as JEREMY BOYD

Scott came over and read some more to me from our book. I was so happy to see him. I was glad to smell his hands and feel the fur on his arms. He looked so sexy and distinguished in his reading glasses. Why do men seem to age better than women do?

I was just remembering how much Beau liked watching Touched By an Angel last night. He's growing up, sigh, and is taking an interest in things that aren't necessarily meant for kids. It's exciting seeing him grow and change but I love him so much it's wrenching to let go. Scott said something to me about some behavior of mine fostering his dependency on me and I said, well, we're interdependent. I can't imagine a life without him. Oh shoot I forgot that I'm supposed to edit together a picture for this ad my Mother takes out in this charity supplement in The LA Times every year.

Noemi and I organized my Barbies today. I have them all on these high shelves in my room and had been thinking of putting them away in storage, but we're getting the house in order for our Mary Englebreit magazine people visit, and there's so much to do, so we just kind of started there. It was fun sitting on my bed dressing them. I felt like such a little kid and Noemi who well, not to out her, but she's kind of a tomboy kind of gal, said, "Hey this is like playing Barbies," and I thought that was so sweet.

Art Bell has a new cat, that made me so happy for some reason.

I wrote so much in my responses about my dream where I was playing with this dolphin, and how much I love the sea, and that I want to try absinthe, and so many other things that I'm kind of drained. I still have all of my e-mail and auctions to pay and my new package buddy, Veronica to contact, ack. She's so cool and creative, look at this great animation she made.


Okay, goodnight my pals,
Jacqui
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Chalkboard

(no subject)

Adrienne Rich
(1929- ) Born in Baltimore, she received her B.A. from Radcliffe College. She has been awarded many fellowships and awards. She is also known for her ardent feminist statements and lifestyle.

(The Floating Poem, Unnumbered)
Whatever happens with us, your body
will haunt mine -- tender, delicate
your lovemaking, like the half-curled frond
of the fiddlehead fern in forests
just washed by sun. Your traveled, generous thighs
between which my whole face has come and come --
the innocence and wisdom of the place my tongue has found there --
the live, insatiate dance of your nipples in my mouth --
your touch on me, firm, protective, searching
me out, your strong tongue and slender fingers
reaching where I have been waiting years for you
in my rose-wet cave -- whatever happens, this is.


XX
That conversation we were always on the edge
of having, runs on in my head,
at night the Hudson trembles in New Jersey light
polluted water yet reflecting even
sometimes the moon
and I discern a woman
I loved, drowning in secrets, fear wound round her throat
and choking her like hair. And this is she
with whom I tried to speak, whose hurt, expressive head
turning aside from pain, is dragged down deeper
where it cannot hear me,
and soon I shall know I was talking to my own soul.
Chalkboard

(no subject)

I'm upset because Beau usually goes home on the private van/bus thing in the afternoons and so often he isn't where he should be, and the bus driver has to return for him, or get out of the bus and look for him. It's gotten so embarrassing, although they have done their share of awful things, so I have a few credits in the patience bank with them. I'm worried though because when they went to pick him up today he wasn't there, then they left and came back and he still isn't there at school.

I think he went home with his friend Shayan but he shouldn't do that without asking me first, it's so inconsiderate and worrisome. I just don't understand how he could be so thoughtless, I guess it's his impulsiveness and his age. I can't even call Shayan to make sure he's there because Beau took the class roster out of my desk drawer, where he knows it's always supposed to stay. I've called a few people looking for the number and in a minute I'll go across the street to Janet's house and see if she has a roster. If that doesn't work I'll drive over to his building and hope they are listed by Shayan's last name. With all the divorces, remarriages and step families, it isn't a sure thing anymore that a child's last name will be the same as the parents, grrrr.

If I did something like this when I was little, my parents would have been furious and I would be scared to death that they would ground me for life. I'm trying to figure out what an appropriate consequence would be. The fact that Shayan's parents speak Farsi and Spanish, and English is their second language doesn't make any of this any easier. I try to talk to Shayan's father but we have a hard time communicating. Beau suddenly started going to school in the mornings with Shayan because his father offered to carpool, but he doesn't seem to need me to drive Shayan, which is really confusing to me. He doesn't want money for gas, and he isn't into my doing anything reciprocal as far as I can tell and just said, "Well all I want is for Beau to be Shayan's friend, and as long as they are happy, then I will drive." Not to look a gift horse in the mouth but that's kind of a weird carpool situation, and meanwhile Sammy, who we hired to drive Beau in the mornings, is kind of suddenly left in the dust. What happens if Beau and Shayan get into a fight? Argh, frustration.

I'll be back in a while to type up my first letter from my little sponsor child Kopila in Nepal. I want you to see it.
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