Sunday - January 10, 1999 - 3:40 PM EST
A weekend of so many conflicting emotions, I feel like I've been riding the Thunderbolt roller coaster at Kennywood. On the high end, I got an email from my cousin in Ireland. This was way too cool to believe but then I had to turn it around and agonize over what I'd write back. Would I sound like a fool? He'd probably wish he'd never laid claim to me.
Had a horrendous Saturday. My daughter's separation from her husband is turning ugly, as most do. I just want to grab her and my granddaughter up and whisk them away to someplace else, anywhere where it would easier for us all to deal with this crap. But of course, there is no place.
When I first turned on the machine today, I spent an hour trying to erase my son-in-law from the family portrait. Unfortunately, I'm not familiar enough with Adobe to know what I'm doing. First I smeared his image so that he looked as if he had been in some god-awful car wreck. That totally freaked me out. I don't want him harmed (at least most of the time when I'm halfway sane) I just want him out of the picture, literally and figuratively.
Stupid weather. The forecasters have had us all in a panic for days-snow storms and ice storms- none of which turned out to be as bad as they predicted. Reality has been the supermarkets shelves are empty, everyone bought out everything on Thursday and Friday thinking they'd never be able to get out again and businesses closing down because half or more of the employees don't show up, being afraid of the road conditions.
Stupid world. I have this fear that as we get closer to the year 2000, it will get crazier and crazier out there/ in here. I'm not afraid of the computer screwing us all up-I'm afraid of Us screwing us all up. Idiots from Denver came home from Jerusalem after trying to hasten the Second Coming. Like I'm sure Jesus is up there with his calendar saying, "Yep, Year 2000 is coming, better get packed and ready."
Let's get this straight right now. If something big and bad is coming (end of civilization as we know it, as my friend Rita used to predict) (or World War III) (or the Second Coming)--- whatever your disaster choice might be…. I don't want to deal with all the survival crap. I want out o' here but soon. Put me at ground zero or whatever, just don't make me deal with this! And let's face it, just the thought of all this isn't very conducive to living. Might as well just sharpen up the rusty razorblade for those of us who have a bit of depression. So I have to believe in something… I don't know what it is but I'm not giving up yet.
My cousin Eddie from Ireland had some great quotes in his response to my web survey (which, by the by, not too many of you out there have bothered to respond to), I'm going to quote him here because I like his philosophy….
(Ideas on the meaning of life?) To find divine wisdom and peace somewhere within, to actualize it in our lives, amid the noise, chaos, pain and distraction of everyday life, and through our lives to guide others to find their own meaning.
(What happens after we die?) The body goes to clay and a the spirit goes back to the reservoir, just like raindrops falling in the ocean - Each drop is indistinguishable from the whole ocean - there to sit and wait for the ebb and flow of the tides of Fate.
These are things I want to believe in (and by the way, Eddie, you really ought to take up writing, what incredible, beautiful prose.)
So I'm back where I started from the Thunderbolt…. clackety, clack… slowly up the wooden rails again, this time, hoping the ride won't scare me to death.
Have a good week. Thanks for reading.
January 1, 1999 - Friday - 2:14 PM EST
Happy New Year's! We've made it through another one!
Hope you all had a good one. Joe & I & Lauren spent the New Year watching Richie Rich on the VCR. Pretty strange movie. I fell asleep and Lauren was not amused, "Nana! Wake up!"
We put our quarters outside before midnight. My mom's old tradition. You bring it in the next morning (New Year's Day) and supposedly you'll have money come into the house all year. (Yeah, right.) Anyway, I'm too superstitious to not do it! And Lauren thought it was cool. Although she did say, "Why do we always have to do what MeeMaw said to do. I said, "Because she was MeeMaw!" Lauren said, "Oh yeah, I forgot. She was your boss." Lauren is very intrigued by the idea of having a boss. She acknowledges that Heather, as her mom, is her boss. During Christmas dinner, she was playing work, and told Marilyn and I we could pretend to be her boss and make her do work. We kept yelling at her, "Hurry up and get back to work." and "Stop that lollygagging." and "You're fired!" She thought that was really a scream!
Joe's cooking a pork roast and sauerkraut for dinner today, bless him. He's so traditional. If it were up to me, we'd drink wine and forget dinner altogether.
I'm not going to write much more in this web journal today. Instead, I have a little treat planned. (Oh, I can tell how excited you are!) Anyway, since I got the scanner, I've been scanning in things right and left. I have Lauren's drawing of an Alien Kitty to show you. And I scanned in my "real" journal pages for those of you (Dr. Steve) who always ask me what I put in the "real" journal". You'll be sorry by the way. If you think I'm weird here, wait'll you read that. Too bad you didn't specialize in psychiatry-you'd have a field day. Some of the names have been removed-to protect the innocent I guess.
I've been trying to think of a good analogy for this, the "real" thing. It's like getting the pizza you ordered and listening to Jimi Hendrix the first time you ever dropped orange sunshine acid… not exactly what you thought it would be. A Pandora's box, at best. So, that said, if you still wish to read it, don't say I didn't warn you..
Have a good New Year's Day and weekend and rest of 1999. Thanks for visiting!
Monday - December 28, 1998 - 10:12PM EST
Whoever said "When the cat's away, the mouse will play" never worked for an attorney. My boss is in Florida all week but all his clients want everything done by the end of the month, especially this month because it's also the end of the year. Closings, incorporations. Makes me tired just thinking about it. I went in early because I knew how much there was to do but ended up staying late anyway.
I'm ready to get out of Wash, PA myself and head for the beach. A couple nights ago I was surfing around all these web sites that had to do with Corolla and the Outer Banks. They were making me so homesick, even though it's not my home. I'd give just about anything to be there right now. It'd be colder than hell. But I just want to smell that air, hear that ocean, and feel that wind.
January and February are the worst months sometimes and we haven't even finished December. How will I ever last until spring?
Miss Sheba Kitty Cat is sitting beside me pawing at my arm, "pet me, pet me." She doesn't understand the attraction of this silly keyboard. It's not pretty and soft and sleek and furry and beautiful like she is.
No words of wisdom tonight. Think I'll go fool around with my scanner for a
bit before I hit the sack.
Friday - December 25, 1998 - 11:37PM EST
Merry Christmas - and thank god that's over with! I'm not one of those people who love the holidays. I want to love them but man, the stress is hard to take.
Santa Joe got me a scanner. Uploaded a few pictures to my family picture page. How cool! Too bad I always look like I have 6 chins-maybe that's in case I ever lose a few, I'll have some to spare. Maybe if I learn how to use the photo software, I'll learn how to shave off 4 or 5!
Neat things I want to remember about this holiday & the past few weeks….
We got to attend Lauren's Christmas Pageant at her school. She played an angel. Some of the other kids were shepherds and others looked like they were giant mice. Later I realized they were supposed to be sheep. I was wondering what giant mice had to do with the first christmas!
Bought an enormous bottle of St. Brendan's Irish Cream Whiskey and Marilyn & I enjoyed that with our coffee all day today. Dinner was great if I do say so myself…. creamed turkey on biscuits, french fries, cranberry sauce, Honeybaked ham, baby swiss cheese, mustards, sourdough breads, jalepeno' poppers… is it any wonder why I have 6 chins?
Bill called and told me Hollywood Dave has a plan for the woman he's going to marry but he hasn't met her yet but knows who she is. He also said Brene didn't get sick at Christmas Eve dinner (GO GIRL!) Guess our cousin, Ed Larkin, from Ireland sent Bill his email. Hope he drops in and visits here sometime, I'd sure like to meet him!
Talked to Peggy Weggy Angel and Jean. They sounded good. They made these beautiful ornaments out of sea shells… angels, appropriately enough. Peg sent one to Lauren and she loved it and Heather started crying when she saw it because it was so pretty. They're crafty, those two.
Talked to Earl Bugaile and got to hear some news about my old friend Marta who better call me soon or I'll be really disappointed. Marta's pursuing her doctorate at Duquesne in counseling! I'm totally impressed!
Marta and Melinda. Melinda and Marta. The three of us grew up together-literally, they were the first friends I had. I couldn't have been more than 2 or 3 when we first met and they were maybe 4 or 5. Marta lived across the street from me: Melinda's backyard and mine butted up against each other. The neighborhood we lived in was like something out of Leave It To Beaver or Father Knows Best, unbelievably nice place to grow up. The three of us took turns playing at each other's houses. Marta's had cubbyholes in the roof off the bedrooms that were like little private hiding places. Melinda had the coolest stuff at her house, just about every game in the world, a little log cabin in her back yard, a bike with a bell on it, and her brother Johnny's jumper sled. In her basement she had boxes of C-rations stored. The first cigarette I ever smoked was a filter-less Camels or Lucky Strikes pilfered from those boxes in Melinda's basement.
Melinda and I ate tar off the side of the road one day. We ended up with it in our hair and all over our clothes. Chewing it was better than chewing gum!
Marta and I hid in the closet one time from my babysitter, Mrs. Weaver. Poor soul couldn't figure out how to open the doors (they slid) and she was standing out there yelling, "Jani, you come out of there right now, you hear!" I was supposed to take a nap. Marta and I just sat in there laughing.
Marta & Melinda… We trick or treated together and had pajama parties and fought like the dickens, arguing over who was better looking-- Dr. Casey or Dr. Kildare, and which Beatle was the cutest.
When we were teenagers, we went a little crazy, spent every Friday night at The Coffeehouse listening to In A Godda Da Vida and Crimson and Clover (over and over.)
A few years later, Marta and I (and Earl & Joe) use to go to bars to listen to Spigot Plummer. Spigot was this old black man who played the drums and sang these raunchy, silly songs about pork chops and butter beans. Spigot had a friend, Johnny who played the piano and Johnny had a woman friend, Jeannie who, the first time I met her, showed me her "fighting ring" just in case I was trying to put the moves on Johnny-- which I wasn't.
Anyway, now it's almost 1999 and I hardly ever get to talk to Marta anymore. Melinda, I still see but not nearly enough. She brought Joe and I this wonderful package for our 25th anniversary-had cookies and Hershey's Kisses in it. Melinda never forgets my birthday or my anniversary. Is that the sweetest thing or what? I only remember her & Rick's anniversary once in a blue moon and I was her maid of honor. I'm a rotten friend. Bob Dylan wrote:
Well, guess I better shut up & go to bed. Hope everyone had a good holiday. Hope everyone knows how much I love them. Sweet dreams.
Friday - December 11, 1998 - 10:19AM EST
Feel like I found a couple of extra hours today. Woke up at my usual time,
a little before 5, and had the worst heartburn, so much so that I made coffee
for Joe & I but decided not to drink it (would have been like throwing gasoline
on a fire -- something we Alley's have been known to do occasionally.) Anyway,
I wrote in my REAL journal for a bit but decided since it is my day off, to go
back to bed. Joe left and the dog tried to get me up, wet nose in my face, the
stupid phone rang but I ignored it all and slept. A little while later, someone
was out front-- Growlf was going ballistic bouncing off the inside of our
front door (might have something to do with the reason it doesn't have any
paint left on it, huh?) So I looked at my watch, had a difficult time focusing,
I had fallen asleep with my contacts in. Looked like 11:30 to me and I thought,
man, I slept half my day away, must have been more tired than I thought.
I got up, didn't want to sleep the whole day away. And fifteen minutes
later realized my watch didn't read 11:30 but 6:00. And anyway, my watch
had stopped and it was really 9:15. Very confusing. But I feel like I
have all this time I thought I had already lost so it's cool.
My computer has been in the shop, so to speak. Something happened to
the CD player. Joe took it into work to have it serviced but they had to order
a new one. Guess they don't even bother fooling around trying to fix the
broken ones anymore. So many things are like that in our totally disposable
society. Probably one reason why the local landfill is bigger than the town it
services! At any rate, I've been experiencing withdrawal symptoms, not being
able to get my email or fool around on this page since Tuesday. Joe had
them update some of our software, including Microsoft Internet Explorer.
But I never use it anyway-- I always use Netscape. We have a newer version
of it but it's on CD so we haven't been able to install it yet. One of the
upgrades Joe had them put on here was for Word 97, has all the
auto correct features set to their default, and it's starting to piss me off!
Every time I insert a hard return, it wants to capitalize the next first word.
Stop it, stop it, stop it. Okay, I've reset it.
It's all Marilyn's fault anyway, she is such an editor, always telling me
when I misspell something or misuse a word. (By the way, Merle, I changed
the old entry about your new house to read Meadow Lands. Sorry I thought it
was all one word. I'm such a hick!) Actually, I'm thankful for her feedback.
I usually use Angelfire's editor to write these entries and it doesn't check
anything. Sometimes, I use Word (like now) but I like to write while I'm
online, get it down fast before I think too hard and decide I better not say
that. Usually get carried away, go on forever, like today and if I'm using
Word or WordPerfect, I get booted off line for being inactive for too long.
The solution I've found is to periodically surf pages in-between paragraphs
and whatnot, so I don't get disconnected. (I'm the most disconnected
person I know)
Merle, I love ya, you know. You have to put up with so much from me-
I hope you know I appreciate all your support. I don't know that I believe,
that things are going to be wonderful for us soon like you've told me but I
like you saying it anyway. Things have been so hard for so
long, it's just nice to think there may come a time…
Your birthday is this weekend! So let me be the first to say it…
Even though you did blow ashes in my face when I was just
learning to pull myself up to the coffee table as a baby,
you're still my best (only) sister and best (sometimes only) friend.
Even though you did make Melinda and I eat that fudge with the
Joy Dishwashing Liquid in it, I wouldn't trade you for anybody.
I've even almost forgotten the time you short sheeted the bed
after my boyfriend spent the night. And I'll never tell anyone
about that phone call we made, ("BWANA… DAKTARI")
Who would understand anyway? Not no one, not no how.
Yer my sista, not my brudda, not my mudda, but my sista.
We coulda both been contendas! Hey Merle, wanna get a box o
wine & celebrate your birthday? We can dance to Smokey
and sing with Bob Marley and have ourselves a good old time!
By the way, I didn't get any of those funny emails you said
you sent to me... better resend them all, or did you use the
wrong email address like some people we know? And before I
forget, Duker, Siobhan & Sheba asked me to send their regards...
Welp, that's about it from this end of the world.
Hope you all have a nice weekend & thanks for reading.
While I'm thinking of it, every once in awhile you
oughta leave me a message in my guestbook or email
or something. A girl could go crazy out here
talking to herself all the time!
Tuesday - December 8, 1998 - 2:38PM EST
Ok, here I am at my internet class. I'll try to post to my web page & see
if it works. Of course it should work but you know me-- I don't trust anything.
This class has been pretty interesting even though it's a beginning level
course. There's always so much more to learn, everything changes so fast, so
I'm glad to be getting the basics via Pitt rather than having to do it all on
my own.
Ate at Primati Bros again (not their original "famous" location but the one
in Market Square. A bum came in and tried to sleep sitting a couple of stools down from me, head on the counter. Wasn't bugging me but the people behind the
counter weren't thrilled and threw him out fast. I'm sure I would feel the
same way if I ran into him daily (or if he had sat there for any length of time.) He was yelling something about making $17,000. Didn't make any sense
but to me, everything makes some kind of sense.
Monday - December 7, 1998 - 11:29PM EST
It's already about three hours past my bedtime but I wanted to write in here
for a few minutes before I go to sleep. Keep seeing these blind people walking around
Oakland when I'm outside smoking and man, are they incredible or what. I can't
imagine navigating around there with nothing but a cane, trying to cross the
street, etc. A few streets up from me they have "handicapped accessible" stop
lights (they beep when it's time to walk.) But these hearty souls are walking
down by Webster Hall where even when you can see, and you look both ways, you're
just as likely to be run down by a bus or something. I'm in awe.
This stupid depression-- half the time I'm afraid to get up & go to work (or on
the weekends, sometimes it's even worse because then I have to get up & find
something to do.) What the heck am I afraid of? Everything and anything. Maybe
the world will end. Maybe it won't. Doesn't make any sense. I quit taking the
Kava Kava with my xanax. Read somewhere in the Post Gazette last week that taking the
two of them together could cause you to go into a coma. (Sometimes, a coma seems
hyperactive compared to the way I feel.) Anyway, I don't think they were going
to do that but they also didn't seem to be doing what I wanted them for in the
first place, which was to help me cut back on the xanax.
Steve says he's going to use "it's the Alley way" as an excuse for other things
he doesn't do at the same time as everyone else. I got news for him-- he'd
better be careful... Marilyn and I do use the "it's not the way of our people"
line for everything... it's way too convenient.
I see Debbie left a message in my guest book for Santa Claus. She always was
a strange one, that Debbie!! Must be OLD AGE (had her birthday a couple weeks
ago & I never let her forget she's older than me!)
Had a crazy day at work, very busy. Always better that way though, it goes
so fast. My boss got mad at me for not lying good enough! I know he was just
tired of dealing with these idiot clients who want everything done yesterday
but don't ask for anything until tomorrow but still, it was unreal.
Guess I'd better give it up. Have that internet class I'm supposed to go
to tomorrow: 8:45 to 4:15. Weird time. Guess they try and stagger the times so
all the classes aren't starting, breaking, and quitting all the same time.
Maybe I'll try writing in here from there. That'd be cool. Hope I learn
something. See youse guys.
Saturday - December 5, 1998 - 6:11PM EST
"It's coming on Christmas. They're cutting down trees. Oh I wish I had a river I could skate away on."
Joni Mitchell
My exhusband surfaced a couple of weeks ago. It's only been 26 years. He
was looking for my daughter. Said he wanted "closure, like on the Oprah show."
I had to laugh. I should have told him to climb back into the slime pit he's
been hiding in for over a quarter of a century but instead I suggested he give
me his number and should she ever have the desire to contact him, she could.
He said, "By the way, how have you been?" I smiled from ear to ear (not that
he could see, we were talking on the phone but just in case) and answered,
"Great."
For the past few months, I've been standing by watching my daughter's
marriage disintegrate. It's ten times worse than going through it yourself.
Anything involving your kids, and/or grandkids is. You just wish you could
take it on yourself-- it's like a big bully beating them up and you want to
scream.....
Work is work is work and I despise what I do. My boss is aware of this-- I've
made no secret about it. I'm no good at it and have no desire to become good
at it (not that I think I could anyway.) It's a waste of precious time but he
needs someone there and I need a paycheck.
I went in for my med check at my psychiatrist's office a week ago. Dr.
G. is a wonderful guy but has this funny habit of sitting there listening with
his eyes closed. Every once in awhile, I get this almost uncontrollable urge
to reach over with some magic markers and draw big wide open eyes on his closed
eye lids, ala Curly in one of the old Three Stooges episodes.
Anyway, usually, when he asks me how I'm doing, I spare him the details and
say "everything's okay" but this time I thought, what the hey, I'm paying some
ungodly amount of money, like $80 for fifteen minutes. Why not tell the truth?
He listened and as I knew he would, suggested therapy. I told him about the
last therapist I went to see who wanted to discuss his other patient, her dead
baby that she had killed, and her loving but totally-in-the-dark husband.
Dr. G. opened his eyes on that one, shook his head, said I had to understand
that was just a bizarre, unfortunate incident.
I told him about another person I know who went for therapy and her
therapist, a woman, ended up killing herself. Again, Dr. G. said that was
very sad but uncommon.
I asked for a referral and he pulled out his pad and wrote a name on it.
Said this guy was an old friend of his, a wonderful gentleman and a great
psychologist. Said he thought he could really help me.
It was the same man who I had just been talking about.
In case I sound like I'm totally down, I'm not. Had some good things, great
things happen this week also...
Signed up for 2 more internet classes at Pitt. We can't afford the
tuition and they aren't for credit but at least they are something I want to do.
I played my guitar twice this week and got to have lunch with my friend Deb.
Joe and I watched Lauren last night. This morning we watched Peter Pan (the
original with Mary Martin) while we ate breakfast. We clapped really loud for
Tinkerbell.
I signed up for some more writing classes at an online writer's site I
belong to. Things there have been not so great lately-- I've been getting way
off track and noticed quite a few other people expressing the same problem.
Reorganization sometimes does that. Hope it's just a passing thing, that they
start doing what they set out do, what they used to do so well.
In case you're wondering.... no, I haven't started my Christmas shopping.
Nor have I put up any decorations. "It's not the way of our people" as
Marilyn would say. We Alleys always wait until after the 13th, her birthday,
to worry about Christmas. To do anything else, would be unthinkable.
Marilyn is moving shortly after the new year, to a darling dollhouse
located on Meadowlands Farm. She'll be able to step out on her porch in the
early morning light with her hot coffee and watch the standard bred horses
prancing through the pastures on either side of the house. How idyllic & neat.
Maggie & Scott moved into their new house this week. I haven't seen it but
heard it's a beauty. It's over near Bridgeville and I hear it has a deck
that looks out over a forest then off in the distance, you can see downtown
Pittsburgh.
Bill is coming out of retirement to teach a class at St. Mary's in San
Antonio this spring. Good, he's been watching way too much Judge Judy
according to Jacobina. And the class will only be one evening a week so Lucky
Dog will not have to suffer empty doghouse syndrome.
Dr. Steve and Brene have a little one on the way! I'm not sure if it's still
a secret but I'm telling coz it's good news and I need good news! Hope Brene
is feeling better-- the phrase "morning sickness" had to have been coined by a
man... like telling you you're going to "feel some discomfort" when you give
birth to that baby. No woman I know has ever used those words to describe it.
Hollywood Dave is being pursued by Columbia records. (And they'd be lucky to
have him.) Play hard to get Dave, you're worth every penny.
Well, Joe's brought home some dinner-- tuna hoagies (sounds like ambrosia to
me, I'm hungry.) Have a good one.
I fell asleep for to take my rest
I dreamed a dream that made me sad
concerning myself and the first few friends I had.
With half glazed eyes I stare to the room
where my friends and I spent many an afternoon
where we together weathered many a storm,
talking and singing until the early hours of the morn...
How many a year has passed and gone
and many a gamble has been lost and won
and many a road taken by many a first friend
and each one of them, I've never seen again.
I wish, I wish in vain
that we could sit simply in that room once again.
Ten thousand dollars at the drop of a hat-
I'd give it all gladly, if our lives could be like that.
Putting up reindeer and singing songs of joy and peace.