Good Lookin Meat

Geoff and Henry came over and we talked about shadow sides to our characters, the parts of us we don't really like, which are often scary, and which actually seem to undermine us. There are times when my character becomes absolutely limp, I cannot only NOT voice my thoughts, I can't think them. My whole being is in scramble code.

There are times when I'm going so fast and furious and narrow to get something accomplished that no one else exists and until I'm bounced out of that mind frame, nobody else matters. Once my great-Uncle Martin asked me if I had a boyfriend, an intended. I was probably 30 or so. I said no and shrugged my shoulders. He shook his head and said, "You gotta take your track shoes off." This is the same man who brought the deli tray out of the fridge before a party and said to his wife of 60 years, "Damn, Mom, that's good-lookin' meat."

I don't have a boyfriend, I have a notebook. Cuddly, sweet, sexy notebook, mm hmm, you should see it.

I tell my brother and sister-in-law I would love to have kids, but am so self-absorbed in my survival, I'm afraid to. They tell me having kids is the exact antidote to that.

Damn, Mom.