poking and prodding and dumping

I’ve been quiet lately, writing my own novels in my head, realizing I need to get this shit out sooner than later before I forget another piece of my own life. That is the risk you run when you have as many oxygen free moments in the brain as I have had, for whatever amount of time it was.

I wasn’t AS GOOD as I wanted to be with the whole not drinking thing. I know, I know–but we are heavily reduced from where we were, though I am sure if I hadn’t told Don I had to get my CT scan and another biopsy tomorrow that we might have had some last night to counter the effects of the weekend. We have these ways of justifying things for short times, reasoning that we’ll take a break or make it up later. It is kind of crazy how well we do this TOGETHER, but I suppose that is why you marry who you do sometimes. That is one thing I do not regret–though I’ve said before I don’t think regret is very useful in many ways as it suggests a lesson unlearned. But nope–no regret there–my cousin’s girlfriend this weekend seemed to be baffled that I married a man who didn’t give me a wedding, and even more baffled I was still married to him.

It makes you recognize the scope of how people sometimes value worth, in terms of the things they possess or the routines and pomp and circumstance, I guess, that they sometimes bring you. I certainly didn’t marry him for his money, since we both have none, and I suppose that made me feel a little better when I read the other day that most people are getting divorced because of money and debt–namely student loan debt. I suppose that makes us a great pair in many ways as well and has actually almost exquisitely saved the men I dated before from having to strategize ways to have things despite me, not because of me, given my negative value in a world where credit ratings count, and you cannot measure the value of a person by the empathy and capacity to care and try to help those around them, well–he actually ended up being the perfect person for me. Sure, he is broken and fucked up and has some issues as we all do, but his heart is pure and he is softer than he lets on, and funnier than anyone, and though he doesn’t have really anything but him and his time to bring to this, and that is precisely what I bring that has measurable value, well, I could be in a worse place.

Amsterdam is still on our lips daily–I have slacked on certain things and I need to learn the coding and build the other site and really need to realize I need to count on me and us to get us the fuck out because I am still soooo uncomfortable with what we have allowed ourselves to endure and put up with here in this country. It’s been 6 weeks since we have decided and the copywriting is stilllll not done dammit.

Argh–I need to get a better system in order and this weekend I am buying two more tables for the craft room to complete the deanna factory–it’s coming along and I could make the shit out of so many things it is almost insane.

Yeah, make the shit out of so many things. I am lost to reading and need to find a new book to read–the white elephant got me the pillars of the earth is it? Maybe I should change my makeup of the month to the book of the month….yeah…that has to happen.

I am slowly building and will show you my blocks when I feel comfortable seeing my own face on film…

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