Beadgirl

I am out of ideas
2003-06-16 20:04:24 (UTC)

If I were to keep a sex diary...

If I were to keep a sex diary, it would look like this:

June 14: Woke up, Period, Day 2. No penetration because
Tom gets grossed out by the blood. Gave him wicked good
orgasm.

June 16: Woke up, Period, Day 4. Still no penetration
because Tom gets grossed out by blood. Gave him another
wicked good orgasm. My turn tomorrow night, after we have
the piano moved.

Something like that. While I was fishing with his mother
yesterday along the Saranac River out on Route 3, I was
talking about how bad his allergies are and told her that I
wished he would go to the doctor and get himself a
prescription for Viagra. (I meant to say ALLEGRA!) She
just laughed like crazy and said, "I'm your mother in law,
there are some things that I don't need to know! Yikes. I
told him about my Freudian slip later, after they had left,
while we were working on putting together the woodstove so
that we could get it into the fireplace. (Tom said that
LaDue is going to make fun of us - a cast iron woodstove in
a brick fireplace? What are we thinking? I said that
LaDue can make fun of us all we want, because not only do
we have a brick fireplace and a cast iron woodstove, we
also have hardwood floors! So there!)

So, still fantasizing about becoming a partner with Pauline
in a new shop at 17 Bridge Street. Maybe that should be
the name - just 17 Bridge Street. Or Bridge Street Bead
Shop and Gallery. Still thinking about getting my torch
set up in the garage, and setting up my website and doing
all these wonderful things for a living, while leaving
behind all of the politics and nonsense and bullshit of my
current job. Sat in an invasive species subcommittee
subcommittee meeting this morning for THREE HOURS while
these two guys from Vermont talked and talked and talked
and talked. Could not get them to shut up. They were the
last two out of the room after the meeting. I was so
hungry by the time that they left that I developed a wicked
migraine headache. (It eased a little when I went out into
the hot car to go to the bank and the post office. Maybe
the music had something to do with it going away, too.)

So, now, I have the following things that I could be
working on:
1. My support letter to Jeanne Ashworth
2. My next newsletter
3. Meeting minutes from this morning
4. My invasive species database
5. My grant (yeah, right) to EPF for Au Sable Forks

I just really feel like I need a change in careers at this
point. I need to be doing something that I love. Not that
I don't love the Au Sable River Association, but I hate the
politics, and I hate working with the politicians. Jeanne
Ashworth phoned me this afternoon and asked me for a copy
of the Au Sable River Study, and for a support letter for
her waterfront revitalization grant. She said, with all of
the inventorying and such that needs to be done for a
community visioning project, that she thought that the Au
Sable River Association could give the project some
matching dollars. Meaning: she expects the ASRA to work
for free for her. Again. She never did send us that $500
that she told Megan she would. I am just sick of it, sick
of all of them. Sick of the Town Supervisors and Town
Board members who are so angry at and scared of the
Adirondack Park Agency that they hurt their constituents by
not doing ANYTHING to improve anything. They just sit
there and say, no, no, no. I have never seen an area so
fucked up psychologically.

At the conference I was at where I flushed my bracelet down
the toilet, at our last workshop on participatory research,
Shanna Rattner told Linda that when people are so afraid of
agency regulations and regulatory actions that they won't
let anyone else participate in a public process, that that
was a psychological problem, not a problem with
participatory research. I laughed out loud at that - and
thank God, so did Andy Keal. The idea that the Adirondack
Park Agency is responsible for the mental problems of
hundreds of Park residents is just too delicious to pass up.

So sick of sitting here looking at my computer screen. It
doesn't matter what grants I write for these communities.
They are afraid and stingy. They won't do anything for
fear of the APA, and they won't spend any money to get any
results. They want things handed to them for free. Well,
fuck that, they get what they pay for, I suppose.

Ugh, my head is pounding so badly right now. I'm just
looking for things to do to kill the time before Anita gets
here to sign my paycheck so that I can go HOME. I just
want to put my sunglasses on and bail. As it is, I'm not
going to get home in time to check the mail, so that will
have to wait until tomorrow morning. Maybe I'll run into
Dot Madden again. "My God, you fired me six months ago and
you can't even remember my NAME! How's life in la-la
land?" What an asshole she is.

I think I need to make an appointment with that
psychologist. I can't handle things anymore.




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