I went to London last week, somewhere that I've not been for nigh unto 20 years. It was...painful, beautiful, exciting, depressing and altogether beautiful.
I first found myself there immediately after graduating from college, in 1996, with a group of my lovely friends from college. And, I fell in deep, lasting love with the city. I fell in love with the history, the architecture, the museums, the underlying pulse and scent of a huge place that has been there for centuries, millenia, even.
I was young, single and college educated. I had the world at my feet and I could do anything, and London is a good place to be when you feel like you can conquer the world.
My trip was important for me for a number of reasons, one of them being that it was the first time in a very long time that I had done something strictly for myself. And, oh, was it glorious. I was there for a couple of months, living in a grubby little flat with 4 other girls, just doing what I wanted. Museums, shows, castles, shopping, food, walking, history, textiles, beauty, travel. I felt completely free there. Free and happy. So, you see, London is a bit of a fairy tale for me. I had dreamt about it before I went, and it lived up to it's expectations.
And, fast forward to now. I hadn't been back to London since, for so many reasons, but, this Christmas, a dear friend was talking about going and it put an idea into my head. By providence or luck, I got a bonus at work, and that, coupled with the ideas that said friend had put in my head, made me jump on the internet. You know, just to see what flights looked like. And I found one. A cheap one. Right after the show at work opened. What did I do? I didn't think, that's what, I just bought the ticket. And promptly had a bit of a freakout. It's a lot of money, buying a plane ticket to England. And I'm so careful with my money. But, despite the website having a 24 hr return policy, I bit my lip and hung on, waiting for the panic to pass.
Suddenly, it was real. I was going to LONDON. I needed a passport, I needed to do a budget, I needed some clothes and some travel accoutrements. So, I hustled my butt and got things done and before I knew it, my trip was here. I wasn't ready, but it didn't much matter, I was going. By myself, which could have been a bit nerve-wracking, except it's LONDON.
I got off the plane, took the Gatwick Express to Victoria Station, ditched my luggage and walked out into the cold London damp. I would be lying if I said it didn't take my breath away. Oh, it did. So many memories. So many delightful, perfect memories. I had a Tube pass, but I didn't want to waste my time or the view, so I walked from Victoria Station over to Westminster Abbey and Parliament, snapping photos of all the buildings on the way.
London is a huge, old city, full of twisty narrow roads and tight alleys. Old buildings and modern office structures. And so, when you are walking about, you might be in a narrow street of Victorian Terrace houses with a modern building stuck in the middle. Or walking next to and between a couple of concrete high rises with only the grey sky above to accompany the grey blocks on either side. It smells of exhaust and cigarette smoke and Indian food and sweat. Then suddenly, you turn a corner and you are transported back. The noise dies away, the traffic disappears, the smells change, because suddenly, you are face to face with history. Beautiful, unchanged, exquisite, real history. And it beckons you on and in. This is what London does to me. It sucks me in, catches me tight in it's embrace and it won't let me go. And I don't want to be let go.
Westminster Abbey, the Palace of Westminster. Complicated, elaborate, overblown gothic perfection. And it sneaks up on you out of this modern, whirling, bustling city, to take your breath away, to steal you out of your own space, to boggle your mind with it's complexity. Well, my mind, anyhow.
London is my happy place, my fairy tale, my dream come true, which in some ways, also makes it profoundly disheartening, because it doesn't belong to me and never will. A trip to London every 15 or 20 years is not enough to make it mine. London has my heart, but I don't have London.
Sunday, February 1, 2015
Friday, January 30, 2015
Anxiety
If you love me, you should read this. Hell, if you don't love me, you should read this, because you probably know and love someone with this problem.
9 things I wish people understood about anxiety
#9 really gets me. I know how much I can exhaust those close to me. I know what a pain in the ass I am. So, I tend to keep to myself or try to focus on the other person, because wearing out someone that you love is really hard on one's self-esteem.
9 things I wish people understood about anxiety
#9 really gets me. I know how much I can exhaust those close to me. I know what a pain in the ass I am. So, I tend to keep to myself or try to focus on the other person, because wearing out someone that you love is really hard on one's self-esteem.
Tuesday, November 25, 2014
Happy Thanksgiving, y'all!
So, I've had a crappy few days. Sewed my finger at work, the needle broke off and a bit got stuck in my finger, so I had to push it through and pull it out with some big tweezers. It was gross, it hurt a lot and I ended up having to go to Instacare to get it X-rayed and get a tetanus booster. Not awesome.
Yesterday, I finished a cushion I was reupholstering for a friend and went by his house to drop it off. I'd been fighting a migraine all day, which sucked, because I was out of meds. I figured I would drop off the cushion, hang out and admire my handiwork for a bit, then head home after traffic had died down a bit. I hate driving in traffic, but it's a hundred times worse with a migraine.
So, there I sat on his couch, eating brie and water crackers when, all of a sudden, my head just exploded. I'm lucky I didn't vomit on his floor, it was that bad. I set my cracker down and said "I have to go home." He watched me for a moment, as I unsteadily made my way to the door and down the steps. He followed me out, took my arm and returned me to the house, saying I was unfit to drive and that I should lay down. So, naturally, I started to cry.
Now, I freely admit that I am a bit of a crybaby. It's one of the things I sincerely dislike about myself, but there it is. When I have a migraine, I get weepy, it's just how it works. So, there I am, wobbling in his front room with tears streaming down my dead white face. Embarrassing would be the word for this. I felt like an idiot. But, he was right, I was in no fit state to drive home. So, I laid on his floor for some time, then spent the night, propped in a sitting position on the couch, as it was too painful to lay down. Come this morning, I was still in some serious pain, so he left me there when he went to work. He was terribly kind, but still, I felt like crap, I had no intention of inconveniencing him in that manner and I generally manage (and prefer) to be in my own bed when I boo-hoo in pain.
All of this is a preface to the remainder of my day and what I am looking forward to this weekend. After I more or less recovered, I went to work. I was only there for an hour before my boss sent me home because the carpet was being redone at work and the smell was horrible and she was worried about my migraine recurring. So, I left and got home in time to walk over to the school to pick up my girl. My wee nephew was at my mom's, so they came with me and I put the baby down to fetch the Small Daughter, and the look on his face when he saw her was priceless. He loves her and she him, although they irritate each other to no end. She was happy to see me, as well. I hadn't seen her for a couple of days, so it was a delight to get her early.
We spent the rest of the afternoon shopping for Thanksgiving, which was delightful, but CROWDED!
When we got home, Small Daughter promptly ran upstairs to see her friends. I live in an apartment in my BFF's basement, and she has three littles near Small Daughter's age, it's fantastic. I tidied up, did some work, took a bath, had a chat with the friend from the night before, then sat on my bed and ate pomegranate while reading. Delightful. Small Daughter came home about an hour ago, "Mom, I'm STARVING!", so I plopped her in bed, handed her the Kindle, reheated some Cafe Rio soup and queso for her, then climbed in next to her. She wrapped her arms around me, gave me a kiss and said, "I'm lucky to have a mamma as nice as you!"
Happy Thanksgiving, indeed. My life is blessed.
Yesterday, I finished a cushion I was reupholstering for a friend and went by his house to drop it off. I'd been fighting a migraine all day, which sucked, because I was out of meds. I figured I would drop off the cushion, hang out and admire my handiwork for a bit, then head home after traffic had died down a bit. I hate driving in traffic, but it's a hundred times worse with a migraine.
So, there I sat on his couch, eating brie and water crackers when, all of a sudden, my head just exploded. I'm lucky I didn't vomit on his floor, it was that bad. I set my cracker down and said "I have to go home." He watched me for a moment, as I unsteadily made my way to the door and down the steps. He followed me out, took my arm and returned me to the house, saying I was unfit to drive and that I should lay down. So, naturally, I started to cry.
Now, I freely admit that I am a bit of a crybaby. It's one of the things I sincerely dislike about myself, but there it is. When I have a migraine, I get weepy, it's just how it works. So, there I am, wobbling in his front room with tears streaming down my dead white face. Embarrassing would be the word for this. I felt like an idiot. But, he was right, I was in no fit state to drive home. So, I laid on his floor for some time, then spent the night, propped in a sitting position on the couch, as it was too painful to lay down. Come this morning, I was still in some serious pain, so he left me there when he went to work. He was terribly kind, but still, I felt like crap, I had no intention of inconveniencing him in that manner and I generally manage (and prefer) to be in my own bed when I boo-hoo in pain.
All of this is a preface to the remainder of my day and what I am looking forward to this weekend. After I more or less recovered, I went to work. I was only there for an hour before my boss sent me home because the carpet was being redone at work and the smell was horrible and she was worried about my migraine recurring. So, I left and got home in time to walk over to the school to pick up my girl. My wee nephew was at my mom's, so they came with me and I put the baby down to fetch the Small Daughter, and the look on his face when he saw her was priceless. He loves her and she him, although they irritate each other to no end. She was happy to see me, as well. I hadn't seen her for a couple of days, so it was a delight to get her early.
We spent the rest of the afternoon shopping for Thanksgiving, which was delightful, but CROWDED!
When we got home, Small Daughter promptly ran upstairs to see her friends. I live in an apartment in my BFF's basement, and she has three littles near Small Daughter's age, it's fantastic. I tidied up, did some work, took a bath, had a chat with the friend from the night before, then sat on my bed and ate pomegranate while reading. Delightful. Small Daughter came home about an hour ago, "Mom, I'm STARVING!", so I plopped her in bed, handed her the Kindle, reheated some Cafe Rio soup and queso for her, then climbed in next to her. She wrapped her arms around me, gave me a kiss and said, "I'm lucky to have a mamma as nice as you!"
Happy Thanksgiving, indeed. My life is blessed.
Saturday, November 1, 2014
HEY
Oh, hey, it's me. The laziest blogger in the history of ever. I have thoughts for posts flit through my head all the time, but most of them never make it onto this blog, for a variety of reasons. The top one, though, is that I'm lazy about writing. Or maybe I'm just too busy, I mean, I have lots going on! Yes, that's it. Busy.
Anyway, I worked today, at work (see? BUSY). I mean, it wasn't FOR my regular job, but I did go up there to get some stuff done. I work better up there, I have to admit. There aren't any distractions, no computer, etc. No people, no snacks, just a nice big space (I actually cleaned off my table) and sewing machines that work. I messed up my industrial at home a couple of months ago and haven't gotten it fixed yet, and sewing on a domestic makes me cranky. I feel like I could just weight the pedal, go make dinner and then come back and do the next seam. SO SLOW. And I had to get the thing done today. The thing being a christening dress for a friend's granddaughter who needs it for TOMORROW.
There is a possibility that I procrastinate sometimes. Don't judge. I'M BUSY.
As a brief respite from working today, I went to the interior decorating fabric store with a friend to find fabric so I can redo the cushion on his antique settee. No lie, it's fun spending other people's money, even if it isn't for me. He finds a fabric he likes and goes for it. $50/yd, no biggie. If it turns out he doesn't like the fabric, meh, we'll do it over (he's paying me). My reaction? Blink...blink...blink. When I reupholster my furniture, I head over the to cheap home fabrics store and buy the stuff that's clearanced for $5/yd or less. Like I said, spending other people's money is fun.
After finding fabric he liked, we jaunted on over to Starbucks for scones (where he made fun of my proper pronunciation of the word) and coffee, or spiced cider, in my case. Then, we chatted. I love chatting with this man. He's very intelligent, intellectual, liberal, well read, funny and challenging. He makes me rethink my views and opinions on some things in a way no one else does. It's very stimulating, and also sometimes frustrating. He's also VERY opinionated, but so am I and it's rather delightful, the debates we get into. He got me into a corner today and then laughed and said "Don't argue with me, I'm very good." I told him that was my line and he needed to not steal it.
During the course of the conversation, he asked me if I was dating anybody yet. I said no, he said why not, I said dating is a pain in the ass. Especially if one is a Mormon Feminist. It narrows the field considerably. His response? "You should give up being a Mormon, then." I thought this was really interesting. Yes, I have issues with a lot of the culture of the LDS Church. Being a Feminist, that is sort of unavoidable. I even have some issues with what many perceive as the doctrine of the LDS Church. The difference being that I think those things are policy, not doctrine, and may change some day. But, that is a different post, and one I will probably never write on here. While this may be the blog of a Mormon Feminist, it is not A Mormon Feminist Blog, though I do frequent many of those. But, I digress.
I had to pause for a minute and figure out how to explain why that wasn't the sort of thing I could just "give up" so I could date more. What it boils down to is this; Being a Mormon is foundational to my self identity. I have a strong conviction of the truth of the doctrine found in the Gospel we have here. It directs, in a certain sense, how I choose to live my life and the choices I make in my life, and how I make those choices. So much of the culture I live in here drives me CRAZY. It's sexist and conservative and classist and often unchristian and judgy, honestly, and it makes it hard to engage in a general sense. But, I can't and won't give it up, because the doctrine rings true for me.
I can't give up being Mormon any more than I can give up being feminist or intelligent or independent or opinionated, all things that make dating hard. Not only does that narrow the field of men that are interested in me, but it narrows the field of men in whom I am interested. I had a few men on a dating site I was on tell me they thought it brave of me to admit that I was a feminist in my profile, because it would mean a lot fewer men would be interested in messaging me. Blink blink. Um, guess what? If they are put off by me being a feminist, I'd just as soon they NOT message me....not my kind of guy, methinks. I'm not afraid to put that I'm a Mormon in my profile, either. I am one.
If I have to give up something, I'll give up dating. I won't give up Mormon or feminist or intelligent or independent or opinionated. Besides, as my friend said "dating is an instrument, not an end."
But, wow, it takes a lot of time to wade through the detritus in search of a treasure. Ain't nobody got time for that!
Anyway, I worked today, at work (see? BUSY). I mean, it wasn't FOR my regular job, but I did go up there to get some stuff done. I work better up there, I have to admit. There aren't any distractions, no computer, etc. No people, no snacks, just a nice big space (I actually cleaned off my table) and sewing machines that work. I messed up my industrial at home a couple of months ago and haven't gotten it fixed yet, and sewing on a domestic makes me cranky. I feel like I could just weight the pedal, go make dinner and then come back and do the next seam. SO SLOW. And I had to get the thing done today. The thing being a christening dress for a friend's granddaughter who needs it for TOMORROW.
There is a possibility that I procrastinate sometimes. Don't judge. I'M BUSY.
As a brief respite from working today, I went to the interior decorating fabric store with a friend to find fabric so I can redo the cushion on his antique settee. No lie, it's fun spending other people's money, even if it isn't for me. He finds a fabric he likes and goes for it. $50/yd, no biggie. If it turns out he doesn't like the fabric, meh, we'll do it over (he's paying me). My reaction? Blink...blink...blink. When I reupholster my furniture, I head over the to cheap home fabrics store and buy the stuff that's clearanced for $5/yd or less. Like I said, spending other people's money is fun.
After finding fabric he liked, we jaunted on over to Starbucks for scones (where he made fun of my proper pronunciation of the word) and coffee, or spiced cider, in my case. Then, we chatted. I love chatting with this man. He's very intelligent, intellectual, liberal, well read, funny and challenging. He makes me rethink my views and opinions on some things in a way no one else does. It's very stimulating, and also sometimes frustrating. He's also VERY opinionated, but so am I and it's rather delightful, the debates we get into. He got me into a corner today and then laughed and said "Don't argue with me, I'm very good." I told him that was my line and he needed to not steal it.
During the course of the conversation, he asked me if I was dating anybody yet. I said no, he said why not, I said dating is a pain in the ass. Especially if one is a Mormon Feminist. It narrows the field considerably. His response? "You should give up being a Mormon, then." I thought this was really interesting. Yes, I have issues with a lot of the culture of the LDS Church. Being a Feminist, that is sort of unavoidable. I even have some issues with what many perceive as the doctrine of the LDS Church. The difference being that I think those things are policy, not doctrine, and may change some day. But, that is a different post, and one I will probably never write on here. While this may be the blog of a Mormon Feminist, it is not A Mormon Feminist Blog, though I do frequent many of those. But, I digress.
I had to pause for a minute and figure out how to explain why that wasn't the sort of thing I could just "give up" so I could date more. What it boils down to is this; Being a Mormon is foundational to my self identity. I have a strong conviction of the truth of the doctrine found in the Gospel we have here. It directs, in a certain sense, how I choose to live my life and the choices I make in my life, and how I make those choices. So much of the culture I live in here drives me CRAZY. It's sexist and conservative and classist and often unchristian and judgy, honestly, and it makes it hard to engage in a general sense. But, I can't and won't give it up, because the doctrine rings true for me.
I can't give up being Mormon any more than I can give up being feminist or intelligent or independent or opinionated, all things that make dating hard. Not only does that narrow the field of men that are interested in me, but it narrows the field of men in whom I am interested. I had a few men on a dating site I was on tell me they thought it brave of me to admit that I was a feminist in my profile, because it would mean a lot fewer men would be interested in messaging me. Blink blink. Um, guess what? If they are put off by me being a feminist, I'd just as soon they NOT message me....not my kind of guy, methinks. I'm not afraid to put that I'm a Mormon in my profile, either. I am one.
If I have to give up something, I'll give up dating. I won't give up Mormon or feminist or intelligent or independent or opinionated. Besides, as my friend said "dating is an instrument, not an end."
But, wow, it takes a lot of time to wade through the detritus in search of a treasure. Ain't nobody got time for that!
Saturday, October 25, 2014
Love or Bust...usually bust.
I went out with a friend and former lover last night. We had a lovely dinner, went to the symphony...and talked...and talked...and talked. Until 3 in the morning. It was delightful, soul filling, aggravating and raw. I love that kind of thing. I love rawness and openness and honesty in relationships. I love those kinds of friends or lovers who see into your soul and not just like what they see there, but crave it. One doesn't come upon them very often, so when they do come along, I have a tendency to grasp them and hang on.
But, it isn't just that they crave what is within you, because that isn't enough. You have to crave them in the same way. There are things about them that hurt you, anger you, make you grit your teeth with frustration. Because that's what these people do, they arouse great passions in you, and you in them. But, the good parts? Oh, they are so good, they are so worth it. Because they do arouse great passion. They hurt you, but they are the balm to your soul. They anger you, but fill you with such joy, they make you grit your teeth in frustration, but provide such satisfaction.
Relationships like this are often rocky, seemingly unstable, but once firmly established, the rockiness provides texture and the instability goes away. Because you know no matter how angry they make you, no matter how they may hurt you (usually inadvertently), you know they love you and you them. You know that your souls belong together and that they will forgive you and you will forgive them and they will love you.
When you have a friend or lover like this, someone who sees into your soul, someone you allow into your inner keep, they have a great capacity to wound and hurt, because by inviting them in, you have handed them a knife, removed your armour, showed them your most vulnerable spots and trusted them to not stab or cut you. But sometimes, they do cut you, though not often on purpose.
I love him because he challenges me. I love him because he makes me rethink what I have thought. I love him because he loves humanity. I love him because he is raw and honest and broken, but he continues to love. I love him because he makes me more me, by virtue of being him.
I love him because he is my friend.
But, it isn't just that they crave what is within you, because that isn't enough. You have to crave them in the same way. There are things about them that hurt you, anger you, make you grit your teeth with frustration. Because that's what these people do, they arouse great passions in you, and you in them. But, the good parts? Oh, they are so good, they are so worth it. Because they do arouse great passion. They hurt you, but they are the balm to your soul. They anger you, but fill you with such joy, they make you grit your teeth in frustration, but provide such satisfaction.
Relationships like this are often rocky, seemingly unstable, but once firmly established, the rockiness provides texture and the instability goes away. Because you know no matter how angry they make you, no matter how they may hurt you (usually inadvertently), you know they love you and you them. You know that your souls belong together and that they will forgive you and you will forgive them and they will love you.
When you have a friend or lover like this, someone who sees into your soul, someone you allow into your inner keep, they have a great capacity to wound and hurt, because by inviting them in, you have handed them a knife, removed your armour, showed them your most vulnerable spots and trusted them to not stab or cut you. But sometimes, they do cut you, though not often on purpose.
I love him because he challenges me. I love him because he makes me rethink what I have thought. I love him because he loves humanity. I love him because he is raw and honest and broken, but he continues to love. I love him because he makes me more me, by virtue of being him.
I love him because he is my friend.
Thursday, October 16, 2014
WHAT IN THE HELL
Death threats and feminism
I have nothing really to add to this post except that I am utterly and completely flabbergasted. It came up in a group I'm on on Facebook and one member said that Ms. Sarkeesian should consider changing her message if she's getting death threats.
How...what...I HAVE NO WORDS.
Is this the world we want? Where feminists have to cancel speeches because some asshole feels unmanned by her? Guess what, buddy, if all it takes to unman you is a feminist talking, you aren't a man, sorry. You're a worm.
I'm disgusted.
I have nothing really to add to this post except that I am utterly and completely flabbergasted. It came up in a group I'm on on Facebook and one member said that Ms. Sarkeesian should consider changing her message if she's getting death threats.
How...what...I HAVE NO WORDS.
Is this the world we want? Where feminists have to cancel speeches because some asshole feels unmanned by her? Guess what, buddy, if all it takes to unman you is a feminist talking, you aren't a man, sorry. You're a worm.
I'm disgusted.
Sunday, October 5, 2014
What a beautiful day today was. It's the first weekend I haven't had to work in a very long time, it's fall, which is my favourite season and it's General Conference weekend for the LDS Church, which is lovely and edifying (and means no local meetings).
I am the sort of person who can never be satisfied with things the way they are, so, as it was my first free weekend for some time, what do you suppose I did? Rearranged my apartment, of course! Generally, I do this every six months or so, but I've only lived in this place for not quite three. The issue is, when I move into a new place, I set things up in a way I think might work, but after living in it for a bit, I realize that certain bits don't.
The biggest issue this time was space for the Small Daughter. Originally, I had used a hallway that leads to my housemate's part of the house (and is consequently closed off) as her play area. The problem with this is that only one person can fit in to play and she has friends. Because of the small size of the front room, there wasn't really any floor for them to spill out on, plus, goodness are they noisy!
This apartment, though lovely, is small and has only one bedroom, which is sizeable. So, since I currently spend most of my time in the front room rather than the bedroom, I decided to dedicate a corner of it to her play area. It's quite nice. And, it leaves the hallway area for bookshelves, which looks rather better than a vomit of toys.
When I woke this morning, amidst the mess I had made starting this project yesterday, I was feeling quite down. This is primarily because the Small Daughter was at her dad's and I miss her when she is gone. This is not to say that I discourage her from spending time with her dad, on the contrary, I encourage it, she needs it. But, I am lonely when she isn't here. She is a charming companion, even at only 7 years. She is witty and clever, logical, smart and funny. She is not too old nor too big for cuddles and she likes to help me cook and she reads to me and tells me amusing stories. She has her faults, as do we all, but they are far outweighed by her good qualities.
As much as I love my darling girl, I also miss adult companionship. I have good friends at work, but that is work and there is minimal time for talking. I like talking, sharing, discovering with others. I like to learn about things that interest them, I like to debate and learn from them. I like to share what I have and have them share what they have. I like the intimacy of time and care spent with and on others. Well, certain others. Intimacy is only achievable, I think with members of one's own tribe, whether they are born part of one's tribe or choose to join it, they must be "of the race that knows Joseph", to quote L.M. Montgomery. I'm not sure my tribe is very large, I've found some people who are part of it, but mostly they aren't. And the people who are part of it lead their own busy lives.
Wouldn't it be nice to find a member of your tribe who belonged to you? I think that's what really successful marriages are. I'd like that.
I am the sort of person who can never be satisfied with things the way they are, so, as it was my first free weekend for some time, what do you suppose I did? Rearranged my apartment, of course! Generally, I do this every six months or so, but I've only lived in this place for not quite three. The issue is, when I move into a new place, I set things up in a way I think might work, but after living in it for a bit, I realize that certain bits don't.
The biggest issue this time was space for the Small Daughter. Originally, I had used a hallway that leads to my housemate's part of the house (and is consequently closed off) as her play area. The problem with this is that only one person can fit in to play and she has friends. Because of the small size of the front room, there wasn't really any floor for them to spill out on, plus, goodness are they noisy!
This apartment, though lovely, is small and has only one bedroom, which is sizeable. So, since I currently spend most of my time in the front room rather than the bedroom, I decided to dedicate a corner of it to her play area. It's quite nice. And, it leaves the hallway area for bookshelves, which looks rather better than a vomit of toys.
When I woke this morning, amidst the mess I had made starting this project yesterday, I was feeling quite down. This is primarily because the Small Daughter was at her dad's and I miss her when she is gone. This is not to say that I discourage her from spending time with her dad, on the contrary, I encourage it, she needs it. But, I am lonely when she isn't here. She is a charming companion, even at only 7 years. She is witty and clever, logical, smart and funny. She is not too old nor too big for cuddles and she likes to help me cook and she reads to me and tells me amusing stories. She has her faults, as do we all, but they are far outweighed by her good qualities.
As much as I love my darling girl, I also miss adult companionship. I have good friends at work, but that is work and there is minimal time for talking. I like talking, sharing, discovering with others. I like to learn about things that interest them, I like to debate and learn from them. I like to share what I have and have them share what they have. I like the intimacy of time and care spent with and on others. Well, certain others. Intimacy is only achievable, I think with members of one's own tribe, whether they are born part of one's tribe or choose to join it, they must be "of the race that knows Joseph", to quote L.M. Montgomery. I'm not sure my tribe is very large, I've found some people who are part of it, but mostly they aren't. And the people who are part of it lead their own busy lives.
Wouldn't it be nice to find a member of your tribe who belonged to you? I think that's what really successful marriages are. I'd like that.
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