May 31st, 2001

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Shabby Chic Ex Husband Betrayal, Moulin Rouge, and Getting Out of Getting Busted

God what a day. I got up this morning determined to drag myself up out of this grief and get things done. It helps to have this photo-shoot of my house coming up to keep me moving. I have till the twelfth to get it together and believe me with this many cats, and housekeepers who I've totally spoiled, there's a lot to get done. I made myself get up early, wrote my thank you's to my package buddy and then attacked the phone. I called an electrician who showed up within and hour and a plumber who came by right away as well. I set up a date with a handyman who blithely told me about his alcoholism and need to schedule visits around his meetings. I love twelve step people, I'm a twelve step gal myself (DA, ACA, OA, CA, ISA, CODA, SLAA and ARTS) I just don't think I need to start a working relationship with another alcoholic personality type, especially one who charges $50.00 an hour. It was the ad that lured me in; Mr. Nice Guy. Typical. I would fall for something like that. Oh well, we'll see what happens on Friday. If these other people call me back first I'll cancel with this guy because my instinct is telling me something isn't right.

I also called the telephone people and the vet. The phone people turned out to be the same people I had called months ago, the ones who came over and told me my system was too weird and obscure for them to work on. How weird that of all the ads for phone work, and we're talking dozens and dozens of ads, in the phone book, I picked the same one again. Huh.

I went to therapy, then Polly's Pies for a late lunch. I haven't taken my Glucophage for two days because frankly I'm getting a wee bit tired of bleeding out of my ahem, well, my ahem. I don't know if I can tolerate this medication. I like that it makes me not want to eat any crap, I just don;t like the throwing up and the endless diarrhea and bleeding. It's amazing because since I haven't had it for a couple of days my cravings came back with a vengeance today. So weird.

I went to Shabby Chic to look at fabrics. Their prices are insane! This one fabric that I thought I would buy to cover the cushions on my new/old, white, painted metal garden sofa thing, was one hundred and eighty dollars a yard!!! Are they insane? How can anyone afford this? Anyway I found a cheaper fabric at a whopping unaffordable sixty dollars a yard and had just gone out to my car to grab the cushion cover to figure out how much yardage I needed and whether it was nuts to even consider buying this overpriced fabric when I ran into our old friend and the original architect of our remodel, Jamie. We had let him go and replaced him with another architect because my ex who was the contractor was always blaming Jamie for everything that wouldn't work out. He said that Jamie hadn't done so many things he had promised to do, he blamed Jamie for all of his lack of motivation, his snails pace, his poor management and handling, basically his incredible botched job of managing the remodel. He said Jamie had been paid for supervision and never supervised. So little by little we turned against poor Jamie and eventually decided to go with Robby's old architect/boss Michael. Robby made it seem like with this new architect all of our problems would be solved, as if they had never been his fault. He (Robby) told me he'd call Jamie and let him down gently, explain that he had been unhappy with his supervision, needed more help with the job and wanted to go with his old friend. So it came as further evidence of his cowardice and betrayal to learn that Jamie had thought I was the one who had fired him. Robby called him and told him that my Mother and I had decided to fire him and that he had tried very hard to fight for us to keep him. Oh man! What a coward, what a liar, what a disloyal bastard. I'm so tired of finding out things about him, but then again, it helps bolster my wounded heart, helps me see things as they really were. I feel sorry for him. He doesn't come close to being my equal, or being what I need in a partner. How totally blind I am when I love, how loyal and naive. It was nice to be able to straighten things out with Jamie though. He said he hadn't believed him. He told me that he always thought that Robby was good at wearing a mask. God.

I needed to escape so I went to see Moulin Rouge. I really liked it. I took my digital camera and took some pictures for fun. I'll make something out of them at some point. I so want to love like that. I've come the closest I've ever come with Scott. I miss him tonight, if I didn't feel so crappy I would want him.

On my way home from the movie I passed a police car that had pulled someone else over. I felt sorry for them and thanked God that it wasn't me. My registration is six months overdue. I have tickets and fines and haven't been able to make myself pay it off. All day they had been talking on the radio about cops giving tickets without warning to anyone caught not wearing a seat belt. I wasn't wearing mine. I pulled up to the last traffic light near my neighborhood and suddenly saw the same cops in my rear view. I thought, "Oh God I'm doomed." I just kept hoping they weren't looking at my tags. I figured if I could just turn left, go under the freeway, cross the street and pull into any driveway, I'd be on private property and maybe they wouldn't be able to bust me. Nope, no luck. As soon as I pulled into this driveway they turned on the lights. I thought, "Well here it is, we're fucked now, they'll impound my car for sure." The nice cop came up to the window took one look at me and I burst out crying. Just everything I'd been through in the last couple of months came up and out in a long defeated wail. I told him everything, how my life had been so hard lately, and how I'd been planning on getting the registration renewed but hadn't been able to afford it, and then I said the one thing that seems to get their attention, "My Father-in-law is a police officer and he always said that if I ever get in any trouble to ask if you would please give me some consideration." What do you think happened? They were totally nice to me. They ignored the fact that I was so nervous I couldn't find my license or my proof of insurance, I wasn't wearing a seat belt, my registration was totally overdue, I have a lot of parking tickets, my address on my registration doesn't match my home address, and I had my Mother's handicap placard hanging from the mirror. They let me off with an easy to deal with, get it done by mid July kind of notice ticket thing. They could have taken me to jail or at the least impounded my car. They were so nice I started crying over how kind they were. It's the cop in the family thing that does it though. Hey how about Laura Bush?
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Oh God, I had some weird dreams last night. Lots and lots of them so I must have been very behind in REM sleep and needed to catch up. Oh yeah that's right, I was running a sleep deficit. Anyway two of the dreams that stood out; Ana is my Mother and I am going to meet with her as my Mother for the first time. It was so intensely emotional. It had all of the pain, sturm und drang of my real life conflict with my birth monster, but Ana? How weird is that. In the second dream I am at some hotel with Robby, and am having sex with him. I keep trying to get him alone so I can fuck him. I'm on top and he's saying things and I'm thinking, "Huh these are things you never said with me, you must have learned this from her." I kept trying to seduce him, at one point I was playing with this interactive talking computer screen and it had this super sophisticated message board chatroom set up. It was more like a MUD or a MOO (wait is there such a thing as a Moo or would it be Mu, God who knows.) You could go into these little boxes and people had very realistic avatars and spoke in their own voices in real time. I was kind of checking out various sexual online encounters between people, mostly to turn on my ex (yuck, bastard), and when I turned around I realized it had worked so I jumped him. The part that upset me was that I woke up coming, and it was with him, yuck. I felt like I was cheating on my partner in my dreams because I came in real life.

Of course faithful little love servant that I am, I duly reported this to my partner who was wonderful as always about it. I love him so much, he pisses me off sometimes because he can be so selfish, sorry had to say that, but then he also can be this extraordinary light being and I just adore him. Hey who doesn't have their flaws? I'm glad ana and Jason are working things out because I think the deeper more spiritual work, the kind that enriches your soul, goes on when you push through the crap and keep going. Anyway, I've had dreams where I woke up having an orgasm in real life before, which still amazes me because in real life I can't come unless I have more clitoral action, if you know what I mean, so this just tells me that it's possible to orgasm without a lot of clit-contact (I'm just dying thinking about my eighty year old friends reading this, yeee) oh well gotta be myself. This is the only place where I've ever truly been able to do that.

Okay so here comes the debate part of this. Is it proper (Heh proper) for a woman to say she is coming when referring to orgasm. I know guys cum, well some women do too, but I always say come as in I am coming here. How do you guys express this, or actually how do you gals express this? Hee.



Read a nice article about Angelina Jolie, I like her so much. I still feel so happy I met her at the airport and we chatted for a while before we left for Tahiti. She was so open, intense and lovely. I was so attracted to her. That beautiful face, sigh.

I've got therapy and then shopping for fabric. I'm still reeling from $180.00 a yard.

Love you,
Jacqui