2003-08-06 @ 10:46 p.m. | My return, before my departure

Song in my head: a Spock's Beard song, don't remember the name

Mood: surprisingly good, considering that I spent 11 hours at work

Current book: almost done with Dorian Gray


Wow, it has been a while. This bout of bronchitis - yep, it started as a cold but deepened into bronchitis, yay, fun, not - really knocked me for a loop. I had been faithfully doing the Artist's Way for three weeks straight and then whammo, once I was sick I dropped it totally (down to the day before I was about to start the week of reading/TV/fluff deprivation; coincidence? I suspect not - not that I think I got sick on purpose, but I think I let it slip very easily because hey, the idea of being in bed unable to go anwhere and unable to watch TV or read was just too much.) I have gone into work late every day for a week - although this week I have been staying late to make up for it; today I didn't get home until 8:00 PM. I just can't leave for vacation until I know all my work is in order.

And yes, vacation, whoo hoo! (Whoa, baby, I feel like the level of discourse I'm operating on has definitely deteriorated with this time lapse as well!) Friday is my first day off; I don't go back until the 25th! Freedom!!

And I am so excited about my San Francisco trip I can't even comprehend it. Part of it is that it is so beyond my comfort zone (hallelujah! she cries!) that I can't even picture what it will be like to be there. To get on a plane all by myself and fly three time zones away and get off the plane and it'll be only 10:30 even though it'll feel like 1:30, and it will be searing blue sky and the air will be different, and the plants will be different, and I will be different for being there.

And talk about coincidence; my godfather Steve, who lives in LA, will be in the Bay Area in the beginning of the week and he has offered to come pick me up at Oakland Monday morning! How cool is that? I haven't seen him since my grandfather's funeral last year, and only briefly, and we've never really interacted much as adults; I am totally looking forward to talking to him about my parents, to get some perspective on what they were like in high school. (Steve was in my dad's graduating class in 1973.) And just to get to know him as an adult.

And I already have plans to meet Marilyn Wann of Fat!So? fame, and I'm going to go to one of Jennifer Portnick's aerobics classes; both of whom I haven't met in person but know through the Fat!So? GabCafe (which was really such a lifeline for me during the Leaving the Louse grief), and I'm also going to meet some other women I have met there, and I think it's so awesome to build friendships online, really. As much as the Internet can be a force for evil, it's also such a force for good. Hell, this diary has been such an outlet for transformation for me; it amazes me to read my earliest of entries ("I haven't showered in days; I hate my life") and see, in front of my eyes, how much I've changed.

Speaking of which, I got the most amazing email from someone who found my diary; she left an emotionally abusive relationship years ago, and wanted to let me know how much she could relate to mine, to the shame and the pain and how long it stays with you. Wow. That just blew me away. I forget how much power there is in the written word, to share your story, to be honest about the difficult things. This entry seems to have touched many people, or at least driven them to comment, and I am again, just blown away, that such good could come of such sharing. ( Brian#1 recently added his comments - he'd been away - and he did a magnificent job of expressing the rage that I'm not sure I've let myself feel yet, thank you Brian.)

I am so glad to be writing again. Even as clumsy as I feel right now, to be back to this - I can't seem to stay away. I write. I am finally starting to be able to claim that. It's who I am, I write. I may not write well or elegantly all the time, I may not be published, but I keep coming back to the page, it beckons, it calls, it feels like home.

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