|
2001-12-08 / 3:53 p.m. ~Confident, Groggy, a Design Auction, and December in Disguise~ I read a lot of diaries, most don't make it to my favorites list, in fact few make it there, but some diaries make me feel small, like my writing sucks, like my pitiful method of stringing words together is wholly inefficient and not at all pleasing. I get lost in someone else's life, in someone else's words. And I don't know why this should be. If someone pays me a compliment, says she/he likes my writing I think that person has no taste, surely. Sometimes I go back and read what I've written here, or elsewhere, and I can get lost in my own life, in my own words, remember where I was when I wrote what I'm reading, how I felt, and it is indicative of the feeling, the writing, the words do condone what I wanted them to condone. So it was last night that I went to Sitemeter.com and put my ISP on "ignore" and read away. Went back to the beginning, my beginning here, and read and read, in no order, in order, backwards, forwards, in the middle, totally at random, and I liked what I read. I thought it was good, I thought I was silly for ever doubting myself, for ever being so critical of my own little diary, my own writing here, in this place. I got wrapped up, saw inside myself, was interested, intrigued even, and this made me feel much better. If I weren't me, I might add me as a favorite. Perhaps I'm assuaging my own ego here, and what would be so wrong with that?, but I'm serious. I like my writing. It flows, I am not too shabby at describing a scene, an event, and definitely not shabby at conveying emotions, my own or others. So, I feel better. I was online a long time last night, reading my diary, reading others, writing email, etc., and today when I woke up at a decent hour, when my body was ready to begin the day, I lay in bed thinking about Diaryland, thinking of the design auction, thinking of a "cast list" that I want to create, then writing it, in my head. I should've gotten up then, I knew it, it made sense, but I lay with Gladys spooning up against me, my arm around her, and I decided that it is not right to get up at 9:00 on a Saturday. I actually forced myself back to sleep, and tossed and turned, dreaming, shifting, Gladys on one side, then the other, Norma curled against the B. Kliban flying cat pillow next to me on the bed, until around 2:30. Too much sleep, I know it. And by this time I was dreaming I was a princess and two men were wooing me, but secretly out to remove me from my castle, they were traitors. Then I was back at my house again, the house I lived in when I was a teenager, the house I always dream about, and I was groggy, telling my sister-in-law that I was late because I was having this dream that I was a princess... And we were showing the house to a lesbian couple - we were there to meet them, they were buying the house, moving in, and I began to take down the curtains, the old, dusty curtains, from the big picture window in the living room, the draperies hanging beside them, heavy, worn, dusty, and in the dream green, whereas in reality they'd been red. The lesbian couple went on about how unique the window panes were, how once all the extra paint was removed they'd be spectacular, or something, so I began to scrape some off. I didn't see what they were talking about, but I was glad someone was finally moving in, that maybe I could now stop dreaming about this place, and I woke up. Groggy. It's warm again, it's in the 70s again, and it seems we're stuck on the weather of late September, that December will never arrive, or that it's in disguise for some unknown reason. Sleeping with the window open every night, waking to the sounds of children outside. The fan is in the window now, the porch door open, trying to get some fresh air in here, too warm, but not warm enough for air conditioning. I've bid on two designs, and one I really like for some reason, it's this retro thing with a groovy font, is being bid on by someone else too. This person is competing with me, and I wonder how serious she is. Is she a she? I need to research. Cost of the War in Iraq
(JavaScript Error)
Recent Entries: It Was 40 Years Ago Today - 9:44 a.m. , Friday, Oct. 12, 2012 Dead Black Cat - 9:07 a.m. , Wednesday, Jan. 25, 2012 As Seen From Outer Space - 1:07 a.m. , Saturday, Dec. 05, 2009 I Survived to Tell the Tale - 7:29 a.m. , Friday, Sept. 18, 2009 Reading My Life - 12:55 p.m. , Saturday, Sept. 12, 2009 
  |