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Hmm�My favorite deejay read info on the radio today on some study that says beer drinkers have more prolific sex lives than non-beer drinkers.
Weird.
Not enough to make me start drinking beer, but interesting.
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Last night, I was about 15 cars back from the light where Mattapan Square meets Cummings Highway, waiting to turn right and head toward rte. 138. The light turned green, but the first car in the line had to wait for the people who had run the red left turn arrow in the other direction to finish turning in front of us. A split second after the light changed, the man driving the van next to me started honking.
He was also 15 cars back from the light.
I have this theory that all car horns should generate an electric shock to the driver every time they�re pressed. The shock would increase in intensity when the horn is pressed for an extended period of time and/or with excessive force. That way, you�d have to gauge whether the need for the horn was worth the shock you�d receive from pressing it.
Van man would be one of my first test victims. I mean subjects.
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I can�t believe it�s been five full years since the Artboy and I sat on the stones at the Scituate Light and considered our options. Although, in some ways, it was a lifetime ago. I�ve thought about that decision every day of all five of those years. I�ve never questioned that it was the right thing to do, but I�ve thought about it an awful lot.
To the Jen who signed my guestbook last night, thanks for your words. I don�t know how fresh your experience is, but it took me until last December to be able to write my own down as something whole and concrete and honest. They say time heals all wounds. That�s at least somewhat true.
I wonder, though, if I�ll ever take my period for granted again, though. Every month, I wonder. And every month, I feel this sense of relief that it�s not a situation I have to face again. Even when I�ve been religious about taking my pills. Even when I haven�t had sex recently enough to result in my being pregnant. I still wait and wonder.
Five years.
That child would be four and a half. Kindergarten in the fall. A totally different life.
~~~~~
We get free lunch at the hospital today. Employee Appreciation Day, you know. Am I feeling appreciated? I�ll hold on answering that until I see the free lunch.
~~~~~
I have two emails sitting in my inbox, waiting for me to respond to them. One is from Jill. We had rescheduled our dinner (which she cancelled last time) to tonight. She emailed me to see if we�re still on.
I haven�t had a night at home in two and a half weeks. My laundry is going to take over the whole house soon. I�ve been up until at least Midnight every night this week. I need to take a little time for myself.
The other is from my friend Ilana. I totally blew off a party at her house on Saturday night. The Boyfriend and I slept through it. Since then, I haven�t gotten back in touch with her. This is bad. Sometimes, I am a terrible friend. I don�t mean to be.
I�ve come to the conclusion that I shouldn�t make any plans at all until the BARCC training is over. It takes too much out of me to do anything else right now.
Don�t misunderstand me�I�m glad I�m doing it, and I don�t have any desire to stop, and I would still do it again if I had the chance to go back and start over. But it�s a huge part of my life right now, and it doesn�t really leave room for much else.
I am just very simply tired.
~~~~~
In my continuing wedding saga, yesterday I purchased a copy of �Bride�s Magazine.� Don�t tell�it�s our secret.
I am amazed by what incredibly ugly dresses and hairstyles some of the models are forced into. I can�t imagine walking into a bridal salon and picking out the dresses I see in so many of these pictures, especially when I see the prices�THOUSANDS of dollars!!!
Of course, I�m sure there are lots of people who will feel the same way about whatever I end up choosing.
I decided (in my head, of course, without consulting anyone else, because as my old roommate taught me, �it�s all about the bride�) that I want to ask my uncle Bud, who is an incredible trombone player, if he�ll play for me when I walk in. I also want to ask my cousin Danny if he�ll sing when the bridesmaids walk. Both of those people were really close to my grandmother, and having them involved will bring a little more of her into the day.
I don�t know which is more obsessive�inundating my journal with rape statistics, or with non-wedding wedding plans?
Off to get some free lunch.
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