Letter from Jane Doe, 1987

I'm so glad I met you + I'm so glad you are a fellow Daphne Du Maurier fan!

Your ideas + your energy + your honesty are precious gifts -- please keep sharing them in your writing and in your personal contacts.  I hope you consider sharing your gifts with our readers, but if not, I hope you keep in touch.

I can sense you've had a lot of pain + struggle in your life, but that you've emerged full of life and hope.  If you ever just want to talk about the meaning of life + God, etc., just give me a call.

It was a great afternoon -- a pleasant surprise.

Peace + all good things.

Crooked doodles

Diary entry, April 25, 2014

I don’t really get what’s going on.  This is all pretty weird.  I wish I could just settle on being crazy.  It’s my insistence on sanity that’s the problem.  Woo hoo, who cares what the truth is, because look at me, I’m Princess Leia!  Sadly, I just can’t pull it off.  So I’m stuck in half-crazy, half-sane limbo land where I’m not sure which part of what I say is nuts and which isn’t, if any of it is either.  If that makes sense.  Which I don’t think it does.

Great.  Here comes the headache again.  I’m tired of being me, whichever me I’m being.  All of them, really.

The Dragon in the Elevator, Pt. 5

You tell me

You tell me who I am

I am too tired for questions

Take your riddle and shove it

where the sun don’t shine

I am sick to death of it

go ahead, blame me

I’m used to it

There is a dragon in

the elevator.

Boo.

Art therapy/Love, 2004

Class journal, 1993

Some people who know of my past in a general way treat me as if I'm other-worldly or a walking mine field.  I admit, it's awkward, but it doesn't have to be.  I don't expect people to take care of me or something.  Anyway, you can read the book of my life someday and it'll all make more sense, but don't hold your breath waiting for it.  My sister always jokes that our family will become the basis of an ABC Sunday night movie, a hideous thought.  I can see it now...it'll be like the Amy Fisher saga, with the perpetrators' version, our version, and the next-door neighbor's version.  (They never did like us.)  If I have anything to say on the subject, it is very sad knowing that your parents are alive but can never be a part of your life.  They're pretty crazy, but sometimes I really miss them.  Or, I guess the idea of parents.  Maybe sometime, if you want to read about attitude and body language, I'll describe my parents for you, as they are a genuine case study.

Blah blah blah blah blah.  How I do ramble, and I'm not even discussing movement.  Something about that word makes me want to italicize it.  One thing I've learned from my nasty past is how not to move.  I can not move better than most, although it isn't much to boast of.  I have to be in the right mood, however, because most of the time I have a plethora of nervous energy.  It could be worse--I could smoke.

The Promise of Rain

I have a great responsibility because I can afford to be honest.
--Mary Sarton