Disjointed Friday With Philosophical Happy Ending...
My only worry is that the iBook may have a little problem... Norton's says there's a "defect in the surface of the disk." I'm trying to decide if I should call my buddy Pete (who listens politely while I whine about whatever Mac problems I might have) and see what it'll take to fix it, or if I should just use that as an excuse to replace it. Heh. I know I really shouldn't buy anything "big" 'til I get done payin' off the dentist. But... But... A brand-shiny-new MacBook pro just sounds so nice.
The HoMeSkOoLeRs just left; earlier this morning, they were talking about wanting a pool table and the older one said, "We can play together, I can learn him how to play!" I could almost feel the veins popping out... When you're two or three years old, that might fly for a little while; but by the time you're twelve or thirteen, it just sounds stupid. Stew-Ped. Stoooh-Puhd. Stouu-Pid.
The HoMeSkOoLeRs cousin got cable a few weeks ago; I'm sure that's where the latest lovely little response came from, because surely it didn't come from the other kids at "Church." Every time I hear one of 'em say "That's Gay," I just want to tell 'em to "Cut it out, son, or people are gonna think yer retarded." I know, I know, takin' a jab at retards ain't no different from takin' a jab at gay... But that's pretty much the point I'm tryin' to make -- If it ain't cool to say "That's Retarded," then it's probably not cool to say "That's Gay," either. I can't help but wonder if their mother has heard it yet; and I can't wait to hear who she blames it on.
Clay called, he made it to Helena alright; just hadn't opened "The Box" yet. I wish I could be there, but I guess there's a bright side to it all, 'cause he told me I could drive the Red SHO while he was gone. The little white ragtop is fun to run around in, but the five-speed SHO is fun to drive. I love my green paint, and I love my automatic, but there's just somethin' about rowin' gears; especially in somethin' with a little power.
The other bright side is when he gets home... It's so nice to be so "on the same wavelength" with someone -- Clay said that the first thing he wants when he gets back is Senor Salsa, which, hey, is the very same thing I've been having vivid dreams about ever since right before I went in for all that dental work. It's so nice to be happy & comfy; and I swear it's not just 'cause we're both jonesin' for the same Mexican Food Joint. It's not a "you complete me" thing; I see it as more like each of us is an individual piece, like jigsaw puzzle pieces; and each of us has just the right shape to fit right up to the other just perfect.
I miss Clayton already, and he only left this morning. I guess I just got all mushy & girly there for a minute 'cause this shit right here kinda pissed me off. "Resist the temptation to criticize, belittle or dismiss their husbands..." Uhm, hello? If you're going to "criticize, belittle or dismiss" him, then why is either one of you stickin' around? Why do you act mean to someone you supposedly care about? Why does he stick around and let you? If you didn't care about him anymore than that, why'd you marry him??
I believe that Love is about Giving... Giving of oneself; but I really don't think anybody should have to give up every crumb of their own self -- if I gave up every bit of myself, would I still be the woman who got him to take notice of me in the first place? If he gave up every crumb of himself, would he still be the man who caught my eye? I remember several little details of the night we "met," but what I remember most is his smile when he laughed; and I don't ever want to lose that. We give of ourselves to make a relationship work; and I like to think that it's what we give to each other that goes into making each of us happier day by day.
More later... _\,,/