I have to admit that I am fascinated by "Stickboy's" entries. Who is this enigma? I can't help but wonder.

I have to admit that my favourite journals to read on Elwoodstrip.com are TK's, because they're hilarious and honest, and Trish's, because she is my best friend and I love her quirkiness. Saying that, I have to ask, Trish, You actually WANT to grow a third nipple? Like Crusty the Clown?

I loved the idea of the "things I have never done list" but mine would be, I hate to say it, kind of sad. What do you expect from the non-sexual, good girl!?

Screw it. Here goes anyways.

1. Bungee chord jump, possibly from a hot air
balloon.
2. Watch the sun set over Paris
3. Have one of my novels published
4. Dance naked in the moonlight
5. Have sex that makes my mind want to explode
6. Sing Ella Fitzgerald tunes with a jazz band
7. Tell The Boy how I REALLY feel
8. Gain my independence
9. Finish the books that I've started, put down,
and never ended.
10. Be out of debt.

I don't really care the order I accomplish this list, but I think that they are all do-able, many in the not so distant future. Wish me luck!

I always find it very enlightening to re-read my journal entries, or stories, or little notes that I write in the margins of notebooks when I'm bored. It's like a snapshot into my own mind, a time and place and frame of thought that I won't be in again. Last summer, I was living in NYC. Well, the apartment I was living in was in Astoria and I worked at the Disney Store on 5th Ave., if we're being technical. It was, emotionally and mentally and spiritually, a rough summer. It was the first time I had ever lived with someone outside of my family, and she is a very good friend, but it was rough because I tried very, very hard to be ultra-courteous and aware of her feelings and she didn't really care about mine. I was re-reading the journal entries that I had written. They ran roughly from my arrival there in the middle of May and stopped at the end on July, when my sanity started to return. I can actually read myself turning from sane and happy and excited to angry, embittered and on the edge of my sanity. In short, I was losing it. And strangely enough, or not really for me, I finally began to get balanced when I started going to church. *The good thing about being an Episcopalian who attends St. Paul's Cathedral and then relocates to NYC is that Trinity Wall Street is so very like home. They even SMELL the same!*

All in all it was a good, growing experience for me. I had to do it. I had to go. I still love NYC. It's a great place to visit but the only way I would live there again is if I made a hell of a lot more money.

When I re-read that particular journal, incomplete though it is, I remember the truth, not some rose-tinted version of it. I think the hardest thing for me to recall when I do re-visit that time not so long ago is not that I nearly lost my mind, but that I was so very needy. It's hard for a fiercely independent person to confront aspects of themselves that they don't admit even exists.

And so, another chapter closes. I have to admit, I never know how to end these things. End.

Love. It's a thing that vexes and makes us weak in the knees and stomach and nether regions. It makes us crazy and makes us sane all at the same time. I actually fall in love rather easily, because as Patty Bouvier says in her raspy, smoke ridden voice, "I've got a lot of Love to give!" Fortunately, JubJub wound up with that love and not an unsuspecting baby... But I digress. I have been in love with someone for ages and I can't tell him. We've known each other for years but I still can't tell him because of that whole, "What if he rejects me?" fear. Frankly, I ought to be the rejection queen, but I'm not. I do not handle it as gracefully as I ought. Too many bad memories have left me far less brave than I used to be. So, I love this man. Some of my friends view it as a waste of my time and energy but is loving anyone really a waste? One must be able to give it freely without expecting it in return. One can wish for it, but not expect it. And besides, my belief in fairy tales is far too strong, probably stronger than is good for me. I know he's worth it and so I will hang in there and one day, will tell him how I feel. Hopefully, it won't be too late.

It's funny what sticks in my head. I have a memory for the most useless information, such as lines from movies and "the Simpsons" and song lyrics and people's birthdays. I remember birthdays for people that I was in grade school with. Why? I just don't know. Some things strike me, and seem like "YES! THAT'S IT!" One of my favourite quotes of all time is, "Madness in great ones must not unwatched go." from Shakespeare's "Hamlet". It always seemed to fit me probably because I have often wondered if I am a little mad. Then again, aren't we all a little mad?