June 18th, 2001

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Let's try this again. Cross your fingers. I am just itching to travel. I so need to get away from here. I got a small taste of it when we went to Ventura last weekend but I soooo want to get the hell out of here and get naked for days and days. Thank God Burning Man is coming up. I'm starting to get butterflies in my stomach and having dreams about it.
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Why I hate smoke



Here's one for all of you Louise Brooks fans out there. It's a still from a film called Beggars of Life. It's on eBay right now, auction #1439155149. I'm getting stuff done, reserved our motor home for Burning Man, writing to our camp neighbors, dealing with my ex, yuck.

Okay well, off I go to the strange, cliquey celebrity dog park. I wonder who we'll see today. Poor Spirit needs to go too but I'm embarrassed because he looks so funky, maybe my friends at the pet store can bathe him for me. Mom's playing games with her old jaguar that she keeps giving me and taking away. I think I'll just have to let go of any attachment I have to it. I was so looking forward to restoring it or turning it into an art car. I'd love to paint it wild rainbowy Grateful Deady colors.

My old friend Durga called, I didn't know that she tours with and sings backup vocals for Pink Floyd. Well, maybe I did and forgot? That would be just like me. At least she knows I'm not impressed by her celebrity. She was successful in England with her band Blue Pearl. I think one of her songs was in the number two spot for a while, I'll have to ask her. We've been friends for years. I love her so much.

My best galpal Susan's mother is really sick. I feel so sorry for both of them. Susan had to go to Seattle to be with her. She mentioned that her Mother's feet are purple as well as other places. Just like my dad. God how sad. Her Mother was a smoker, man if any of you are still smoking or considering taking it up, please do what you can to stop, it's so bad for you. My boyfriend smokes but is in total denial about it, it makes me so sad for him. He thinks if you smoke an herb instead of tobacco it isn't the same but he's wrong, I hope he's right, but from everything I've read it's actually harsher on the lungs to hold smoke in for a bit before exhaling it, plus there are plenty of crappy things that are getting mixed into herbs these days. if you're not growing it, how do you know what's in it. I bought him a thing that makes vapor so that it won;t be smoke anymore and hopefully he'll take to it and that'll help with his asthma, the asthma that he has been in denial about and that I've known was coming on for years now. You can hear how laboured his breathing is, it doesn't sound normal.

My Mother's and my friend Marian died of lung cancer. She didn't even smoke, but her husband was a major smoker and her house always reeked, so she was a casualty of second hand smoke. My friend Coral was only forty when she died, she was lovely, really, a very special woman, and very talented, she had so much to offer, what a horrible loss. My Grandfather was a big smoker and he got emphysema late in life, when he suffered a broken hip as a result of a fall, he died in the hospital because his lungs filled and couldn't handle the strain of it. My friends Stephen and John Berkey lost their Mother to cancer, but I don't know if it was from years of smoking, or her intense addiction to passing out drunk in the sun.

Okay now I'm fat so I'm sure people look at me like a walking future heart attack or Diabetes girl, and I understand that, but with smoking I just don't get it, why start when it's such a horribly painful ugly way to die? I've even heard smoker friends refer to their cigarettes jokingly, as coffin nails, wow. My Mom was a two pack a day smoker for most of her life. Everyone she knew smoked. It was the thing to do. Now we know better, so the only reason to start is as some kind of rebellious screw you kind of thing. Mom managed to stop though, she tried so many different things and would always go back to it. She always had to have something to deal with her nerves, she is a very nervous person who could definitely benefit from a barrage of therapy and medications, but that's another story. Anyway she finally stopped by going to a hypnotist, you can't imagine how funny that juxtaposition is, and he made her think of gross stubbed out wet yellow cigarettes in the gutter whenever she wanted to smoke and that finally worked. Her friends own Schick centers, I don;t know if they exist anymore, but they used to be big, and when she went there she had to go in a room with a whole bunch of smokers, no air, no windows, and they were forced to light cigarettes one after the other, taking just one puff, until they were all throwing up into this trough in the middle. Man how about that for aversion therapy? Didn't work for Mom though.

Reality hits you so hard when your parents get ill and you are the only one who can take care of them. Life is a very rich and layered process though. So many shared experiences to go through. So much ritual in a way.

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Wow look at this woman whose journal I just found, what a sweetheart.

Her description of her website is, "Disabled woman artist/activist's day-to-day experiences of living a creatively conscious life." I think she's beautiful, a truly lovely soul.

I just love people like this. She's so full of spirit and love and compassion. She's sixty and uses a walker, and is brimming with creativity and the ability to build community with other people. Remind me not to whine about things, when I'm sitting at home with the full use of all of my limbs, wasting time watching television, or complaining about petty stuff. Right Emmet?

Windchime Walker's Journal
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My Beautiful, Wonderful, Little Boy


Beau asked me if he had to go to school tomorrow because his teacher told the class, not to come to school if they're going to be grouchy, because she wont be there, and doesn't want to hear anything negative from the substitute. He's so literal, I have to remember this about him.

Last night he came in to my office and told me that he has two pubic hairs. He's so sweet and open with me. It's hard though not to be shy sometimes because he is so honest with me, in the things he asks me about and tells me. I just try to be honest and foster positive open communication around his emerging sexuality. This is very different from the horrible shame based attitude my parents had towards sexuality.

A couple days ago these little girls were calling a lot and asking to speak to Beau, then they'd giggle and hang up. Wow it's a little hard letting go and watching him go from being a little boy into becoming a young man. It just feels like yesterday that I was sitting in his rocking chair in his room at night breast feeding him, and he was stretching his hand out towards the moon and saying goodnight to it.

My ex called today and asked me if he could switch his pathetic weekly visitation from Thursday to Tuesday. I asked him what the problem was and he said that he just wanted to go fencing. Fencing! My whole life with him revolved around his fencing. It's so typical that he would inconvenience everyone for fencing. I reminded him that Dr. Seabaugh, our family therapist, had told him it was really important to stick to the same schedule, and to be consistent for Beau's sake. Something Robby hasn't really been able to do. This is the best he's done in three years, and he never manages to go four weeks in a row, without having to switch it around, or include a girlfriend, or blow him off because he has to go out of town or something.

He doesn't see him on the weekends, doesn't take him to play any sports, doesn't take him to any extracurricular activities, tutoring or classes, doesn't take him to school or pick him up, or take him to the doctor or dentist. He doesn't know his teacher's names and probably doesn't know the names of his two best friends. He doesn't send any child support (I know Howie, I know, thanks,) because he keeps himself poor, lives at home with his Mother, and figures my Mom can support us. He hasn't ever been to any play, event, or recital at Beau's school. He sucks, basically, and it makes me sad, for Beau especially, and also for me because I put so much love and energy into our relationship. I had such hopes for us. I guess it makes sense that he's dating someone half his age who lives on the other side of the country, less commitment, less mess that way, and he can screw around and drink all he likes. There's no one to rebel against and make into Mommy this way. Although he tells me she's educating him, getting him to read, inspiring him to be a better man, yuck. As if I never tried all those years we were together. Nope, never bought him a book, never put them on his night stand, or in his hands at night. Oh God, I'm sorry my friends, please forget that I brought this up. Think of it as ex-relationship spewing. What I wanted to focus on here is my wonderful son who I love so much, and am grateful for every day of my life! I was just reading a journal entry of mine from last year when I was at Burning Man (it isn't here, it's on paper, but I'm going to put them up soon, along with all of my pictures) I was so worried about him because he'd gone with his friend Eduardo to ride over to the Man and it had started to pour rain and I was getting worried. When he came back, all wet and crying, with mud caked all over everything, I was just so grateful to have my little green haired boy back again, nothing mattered more than that.

Oh great after all of this he has just announced from his bedroom that starting now it is opposite day and everything he says means the opposite of what he feels. Ack, help.
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