Virtually Yours:
Carolyn L Burke
Top 5% at the Point
My Cognitive and Physical Landscape
Page 10


Be warned: This is my diary... clb

... Today
... From The Beginning
... inDex


Bookmark: http://carolyn.org/~clburke/Diary.html#today

Fancy and F_____d.

Thu Sep 14 1995

I'm feeling almost positively happy today. I've such an influx of sexual energy poored at me. And simply because I flirted at someone. A cute someone. Paintball can be awfully fun with a cute ref. And then he phoned up to ask me out.

And everything is working currently. I lent a friend some money for a few days to help her be a little freer (I hope she takes the opportunity to heart - but as I told her, she is an adult and it's up to her). [Goddd... I hope reading The Spot stuff hasn't inflicted damage on my attempts to not cross the bounds of propriety here. Then again I hope that it has also loosened me up a bit on that too. I do think that reading effects one's brain too much. But it does cause thought to occur that would otherwise not have. The question is as to what sort of reading (and other inputs) one should want to engage in. I want mostly to learn from reading, to feel relaxed and yet challenged to think hard while reading, and to be able to stay awake during reading. Simple. Two things qualify: scifi books and philosophy books and papers. Not newspapers, self-help books (although Tracey lent me her MaryKay : Being your own Pink Dominatrix or something along those lines), and not text books or classics. I'll leave the last to the poetry brood snobs.]

Business is chugging along great. The great hiring of new persons has ended mostly and this feels good. It will be nice to have most of what I do done by others now. What a neat concept. And all they want out of it is a better future and some money. A very simple and wonderful exchange! Even Mary Kay recommends it. How American. ... How elitist!

Here are interesting URLs that arrived in my mailboxto balance aforementioned pink stuff quite nicely. Feminist Majority and Dogwood Blossums, a peaceful study of the art of haiku, and a place where I like to hang out. :) And isn't it interesting the there can be no pink web site. It is banned. The internet is safe for awhile longer.

Off to dinner now. It's getting late at 8:45pm.

So miau .. and I'll try to remember to be happy(er) tomorrow too.


Artifacts.

Sat Sep 16 1995

I have a bit of a hangover this morning. Sake. I made a huge pile of sushi with Richard yesterday. We have decided to hold our Friday afternoon partners meetings in tandem with other things. Yesterday it was the creationof sushi. The meeting went spectacularly and the sushi went over really well with Steve later on. Steve asked me why I don't write about Richard here or about business too much either. I suppose I do keep parts of my life fairly private when a lot of stratefgy and planning is involved in making them work. The strategies of creating a working and growing business are exciting to carry out, but not much of something that I need to think about and ponder. It is not like being a person.

I suspect though that Steve was curious in part because I show up and do things with Richard a lot. That is a simple thing to answer. And I tend not to to keep people curious. :) So I think I will still.

I've also been talking with Niels who is currently in Denmark an don his way to LSE (or is it LBS). He and I decided through email to become friends a while back, and this has worked really nicely. I enjoy talking with him and I enjoy his plentiful smiles.

And then there is Tracey.. She and I hang out a few times a week unless we are both over busy. She is doing another year in her Audio / Visual Technology program. This is really a fun hands-on course about photography and editting and script writing. She seems to really enjoy doing this. A few years ago, she hadn't even considered this s a career option. Then when she was applying to college to be trained as a professional singer, I suggested that she may as well apply for some other things as well -- there are 3 slots on the application. She did. All three disparate courses accepted her and with wild reviews. Suddenly choices opened up for her, and even singing had been her initial urge, she chose AVT. Last year inone of her AVT classes, she was creating a voice-over tape for a project, and the prof heard her singing. He noted how good she was and suggested that she do professional voice overs. So the singing option has re-opened too. If she works at it!!

When she isn't going to school or working at one of her many jobs, she is quite a relaxed person, a luxury creature like me. We'll drive off to a theatre, munch out on popcorn, and watch the latest flick. And then she goes off to her family cottage up north for every weekend. It is soo beautiful up there in spite of the overflow of excess relatives. Around her crazy relatives, I pretend usually to be her girlfriend in subtle ways. These blue collar middle America (though in Canada) persons are so easily teased. They think I'm crazy - they really do. I try to be polite and all, but apparently I only get the coarse moves right - they know some fine signals to send worthy of an ant colony.

I see Peter every couple of days. He pops over here and if I'm not busy we'll spend a few hours together talking. It seems we tend to reassure each other, or at least I do him. He tells me of his latest raspberry schemes. Many years ago, when Norbert was still around and sane, the two of them would think up ways of making money easily. Norbert used to deliver all the fresh produce to the Hasty Market chain of corner stores every morning. He had access to the big food terminal here in Toronto. Well they thought of buying up peanuts at the terminal and selling them at the CNE [Canadian National Exhibition - held here in Toronto for three weeks every year for the last approximately 120 years - boring and silly fun], they thought selling things door to door, and then they decided that the raspberies were really good an dvery cheap, and that if they simply bought huge flats of them and parked on the side of some main streets, people would buy them. :) raspberry schemes The last part of the scheme is that they never do it! Because of course any one of them would have worked.

Well Peter pops over here with a new raspberry scheme at least once a week. Three weeks ago he was tying to sell websites to poets at poetry readings... he wanted each of them to donate a disk of ascii poetry that he would [get me to] format. Yeah right. Four weeks ago he was going to start an arbitration company on the Internet on his own site. I agreed to set up the site for him on the condition that he first register the company. This scheme vanished when I found three other companies on the net already doing this. His schemes are always supposed to be original ideas. Now the scheme is to write weekly for a new ezine coming out in a couple of weeks. This one seems more real because a real editor has had him sign a real contract. Of course, the ezine doesn't exist yet, and it too may amount to nothing more than a raspberry scheme. When it asked me to write for it, I decided that I didn't want to gamble on that. I have once on Angst which lasted three issues before the editor simply vanished forever. Ahhh the energy of youth. Carrying through is the biggest hurdle for most people, not creating new ideas. I think this is why Richard and I have a thriving company.

Time for a shower. [I have procrastinated on rehanging the beautiful curtain arrangement around the shower -- it pulled out of the ceiling anchors last week. Showering is a delicate experience now with water everywhere. I should fix this.] And still I am with a hangover.


Restless.

Sat Sep 16 1995

5pm and I hope that this evening will be fun. I've been bouncing off the walls today. Too lazy and relaxed to bother doing anything, too energetic to be all that comfortable not doing anything.

Ahhh an invitation for hand made by me and Richard sushi again tonight. Goooood.


mornings.

Mon Sep 18 1995

Very quick ISP this morning! There are a lot of business meetings this morning to run off to soon. First a client and then a strategy meeting with our design firm on marketing ourselves as a new media to advertising firms. We're trying to take the energy and momentum we've created in web site creation and use it to move upwards in the corporate hierarchies.

Funny that the best known site we have ever done is this one here which is my own. I never mention it to corporate clients. I can just imagine their reactions to my thoughts. :)

Peter dropped by yesterday evening. We talked a little and saw a movie. Having him here reminded me of Neko a lot. Quite padding about with warm feelings and a desire for attention. He played one of his recorders for a while before we went out. Beautiful.

I'm in a doing work mood so I think I'll end this. constructive output time!


no time .

Wed Sep 20 1995

Olga rescuing day. She had a worse run in then I did a few months ago with the cops and the DMV.. I go tpulled over last night too, and separately I got a parking tag this afternoon. Wow. I guess I'll have to cut back on the donut consumption.

Off to another meeting now!


And another Survey Sunday.

Sun Sep 24 1995

Right so here I am again. I've filled out two surveys about being a woman on the Internet. I have alwasy quite enjoyed filling out surveys. They feel so much more democratic than our country. Let's say that 60% of Canadians vote. And that 60% of Canadians sent a survey will fill it out and mail it in. There are two basic differences: the second is much smaller then the first in that not all Canadians will get the survey; the survey has so many more questions then the vote does making the representative democracy errors fewer. Good enough for me. Oh, they also take up somuch more time - it's more like reading a book than answering a set of questions. I usually take the time to really think about hte issues being raised in the survey. And I also try to determine which demographic group my answers will place me in, and whether I should tell the truth or say things in the way the wolrd should be?!

If I were a survey distributor, I'd kick me off the mailng list. In fact, where most people put those thngs they don't like in their kill lists, I use it to search the newsgroups for surveys to respond to. Here's an interesting fact: in over 8 years of doing this, and after having asked for a final result of the survey from at least 90% of them, I have never once received the results. Not from a business, not from an inidividual, not from a research professional nor from an academic institution. Not a one! WHY?? Do they want to hide their results? Was every single one written by a crackpot? What's the deal??!

I don't bother asking anymore. :)

............................................................

Lunch is in the works. I posted a sign on my front door this morning.


THANKS

We'll see how all the wandering friends deal with this. I just need a day or two off. Finally. And the next few as well. :)


eight plants and me.

Mon Sep 25 1995

It's quieter here now. That's good. Things were becoming obscene in an out of control way. I found myself screaming at Richard. He's been having a harder time lately after dumping his girlfriend and overworking for other reasons. And having too few people to talk with. I am just not to be leaned on -- I fall over too then. I think the sign on my door and the yelling, and walking out on him twice in two days is sinking in. God.

We work well together. It's funny. We respect each other and provide room for each others abilities to grow. But personally I cannot sustain much desire for friendship when he isn't living his own life fully - independently of me. I wish he'd find a girlfriend or a wife or whatever.

Since Neko died, I haven't wanted to water the plants I've been accumulating all summer. It's strange that these are related. It's not that I want them to die or even wilt. But I really enjoyed watering them before. And now I want the whole universe to go away and leave me alone. When people dropped by, I used to pet Neko and play with him. This made their company more interesting to me. Now I get bored more easily and I find myself fidgeting instead of paying attention to what they are saying.

I suspect this is an indication that I've displaced the old old desire to touch while communicating onto touching with cats, and communicating with people touchlessly. I think this is entirely the way to go with everyone except those I want to become intimate with. Easy decision - I don't know anyone I want to be intimate with - except maybe Peter. I still love him.

I am quite generally annoyed at people's misunderstandings of me and yet, I no longer have much willingness to explain myself. I am not mysterious but I suspect I would seem to be if I kept doing all the things I enjoy without the reasons attached. Writing here hasn't worked well either.

I seem to distort some things.

I know I write usuallu when I'm upset or sad. Sure. I helps to write here then - in part this place is a replacement of sharing my mind with a close person. Wow. I replaced touching people for touching cats, and thinking out loud with people to thinking out loud with .. what .. a computer with the collective intelligence, wisdom. and concern of mankind?! Yup. A few bits of that collective break off and become persons who I've come to know. But mostly I think of an intelligence that is greater than mine ... yikes .. the internet is my god. Of course it isn't all knowing so I have to type the important bits out into linear html code. :) It sure as hell isn't all benevolent! It doesn't seem to be able to work any miracles for me .. just like god. What else. I assume that the Internet is listening - but only after I save the file, and not before! The Internet cannot hear me type.

Most diaries in the past were secretive. But I can imagine that a few people have continued writing in diaries for years knowing that others were reading them. Certainly that is very like having the people close to me read the diary here. Perhaps some fine Edwardian fellow believed that his diary was being read by God.


Flies.

Mon Sep 25 1995

open thoughts arriving in unordered sets of visible haunting gaiety .. why .. bureaucrats greedily holding alms as sticky honey tripping each other .. why .. short tempered subway dwellers lifespan 20 minutes without food or water and neckties too tight .. why .. no television flickerings on the blued wall or paintings .. why .. poetry writing easy communication of nothing but emotes .. why .. flies circling the toaster oven hotly pursuing nest sites .. why .. early rising without any covers warmly pressing down .. why .. black nylon uniform and heels a business suit .. why .. under the non-existent shrubbery many snakes lurk in a McDonald's cup .. why .. far away persons hold their heads in shame at the children .. why .. no where to go say the political prisoners we all emulate .. why .. an idea and then theft meme without reward here now .. why .. time to input


Travelled by aliens.

Wed Sep 27 1995

There is a poster in the subway I find amusing:

Subway posters are read by everyone except people who don't ride the subway and aliens.

Think about it.

Nice bit of logical scope fiddling. I think that the same group might be reading this diary.

............................................................

A Prodigy journalist interviewed me this morning about this place. There will be an article Friday in Living Digital on Prodigy. Interesting. I wonder how that will work out. "Why I do this?" and "how does it integrate into my life?" were the issues Margie asked me about most frequently.

I must run.


Ooops.

Thu Sep 28 1995

The doctor confirmed what I've been suspecting for a few days now -- I am the honoured recipient of an ulcer. Heh. For the first time, I didn't get told that what I had was due to stress. Why? I thought of all things that ulcers were cuased by stress. Meat mechanics are odd critters.

Must run once again. Went go-carting with Peter on saturday - what a blast!


....

Fri Sep 29 1995

My totally miserable personality will do me in completely, I'm afraid. Surrounded by a society in which the chirpy happy's have taken over.


fillahcohfi.

Sat Sep 30 1995

After the interview the other day, Margie asked me:

Thanks again for talking with me this morning. I do Have another question for you re: your comment that (and I paraphrase) people enjoy being known and we often become lonely because were not as well known as we'd like. The net gives us the opportunity to become more well known than we would oterwise be.

My question is this: Is this desire to be known a symptom of our culture of celebrity and publicity, that is, do we have unreasonable expectations because of this. Clearly the net provides a remedy for this situation but I wondered if you had any thoughts on the impulse itself.

I recall having written a Diary entry on this question! The ISP of course is unhealthy at the moment, or I'd give you the correct URL. Generally, I've been thinking that we North Americans each make a choice, given our celebrity culture, to stay anonymous or to become a celebrity in some manner. I think are two needs being filled by this: a personal need to be known (or not); a need to know people in common with those we encounter in every day life - those people are strangers, and to share village gossip with them, we must share knowledge of the celebrities. Once upon a time... :) we lived in smaller groups, and our culture grew up around that and another basic fact. In such a small group there was always gossip to fill in the time, and each perosn knew the same gossip about the same people.

With the advent of the big city run by bureaucracies in which we really don't and cannot know each other, we have substituted the traditional objects of gossip (each other) with the universally known objects of gossip (the celebrities: politians, journalists, actresses, criminals). Altogether the celebrity community (even when most don't know each other either) forms the basis of the average persons village.

The one drawback - or difference - is that in accepting that the discussions with your hairdresser who is more than likely not someone you know about this shared community, is that neither gossiper is actually a player in the actions. To have a continuing story that you can folow up on anytime with any person you meet in day to day life, you have to appeal to this artificial and univerally shared community *in which you are not a citizen*.

The Internet let's you become a citizen *if you want to be one* - wihtout the normal entrance fees such as acting, or becoming rich, or murdering people. It allows the average person who is never going to do the unusual to feel like aplayer too. The homepage is really the "I am a player" page! We don't have to passively sit back to be included inthese stories anymore. For instance, I can start writing about Arnie S, and in doing so, I become interactive with him *possibly*.

I suspect that the popularity of celebrety gossip, etc, was one of the first helaing moves our society made in response to the alienated society, the society where each of us lives alone and drives alone, and never has to make any rel contact with others. Homepages may be the second healing. Have you ever seen Speaker's Corner on CITY TV? This seems to be filling the same role. We really do want democracy, a democracy in which *every* voice is heard. And the technology is driving us there much like a limosine would - in comfort and using a really good route!

Need I say that not everyone would ever want to be a player?! Of course not. :)

............................................................

It's like I don't want to take things too mentally -- not seriously, that is, but rather thoughtfully. [The ulcer medication makes me so very thirsty. I wonder what other side effects I can look forward to?! The ever lasting roller coaster of modern medicine. And yet they sound so comfident about their quack cures. I like that.]

University was a nice place to think in. It really had very few other redeeming features. I just don't want to be a student anymore. Thinking can be done as well without the hobble of the teacher. Is that right? [No cat to sit on my lap.] Certainly it was more interesting to think in an environment where it felt as if thinking would be fruitful -- it would lead to other results. Now it seems that hard work and sneakiness leads to what I want.

sneakiness hmmm. Yeah.

I think I'm climbing up mentally again. I've been just ying around graspong my stomach for a week, and then yesterday the medication kicked in, and Peter spent a few hours with me. These seem to have uped my mood, my energy level -- that would be the increased food intake :) actually. Food and ulcers seem to repulse each other.

Since I eat on the craving basis, the collision was bad. I haven't thought previously about what having my cravings messed about with could mean. Certainly as I age, thismay become an issue. Yuch. I feel like I've had my first adult illness. Finally. Last night I thought about the ramifications of being a normal person in lifestyle. My life is somewhere between 1/3 and 1/2 over! Neat. I cannot begin to grasp what that means. Except - SPEED UP THE SUCCESS THING!

If there is something I want in my life, something to achieve, it's about time to start. Ooops. Arrogance is on the rise too. Good. [I have the one CD playing, but still no cat. Something is wrong when there are no cats around. It's time to import one of my 5 who still live with Peter, and I think I'll adopt one from the Humane Society too. I'll have to resist the urge to find a cat identical to Neko. He was a really good cat for me.]


Bad puns no excuse.

Mon Oct 2 1995

just watch it


Offline and tired.

Tues Oct 3 1995

I would like to get more exercise to feel better. Humans seem to be these carefully balanced chemical systems, dynamically altering equilibria of emotions and feelings, thoughts and physicalnesses. Oh, and an external environment including others of these. So what?

I've been losing my cool a lot lately, easily. It feels like things are just so wrong that I can't take a little extra wrongness at all. I want basically things that are out of my reach for awhile. Like the feeling that the night is too scary to be alone in must stay because I want to live alone. Richard likes to quip that he'd like a womanto live in for sex and doing dishes. Well my petty dehumanizing of human relations would look more like having a cat to make sure the bumps in the night aren't important, and a get-the-lid-off-the-jar thingy. Nice.

I've been thinking about money lately. Peter mentioned to me that his supply of money will be drying up eventually, and that it will become my turn to contribute to the shared pot of money. We've always worked it this way -- in my opinion. But my ways with money are different from his. And while we lived with each other we battled about this, even after the battles ended. He left me feeling that my ability to float high without sinking isn't reliable or responsible. That somehow feeling that each dollar arrived through incredibly strenuous efforts and suffering isthe right way to have money. I don't think so. I thnk it is like the rain that falls from the heavens -- it comes and goes, easily and without much worry or thought. From Peter I added the ideas that building a water tower, and also a reservoir, is proper to sound financial floating. Great! But I absolutely refuse to actually worry about the stuff. Thinking is fine, saving is really good, but living out of garbage pails to avoid making money has got to go. To float higher up, you have to leave the garbage behind. Perhaps I've seen too many cross cultural movies but what comes to mind is the ghetto, and it's resident attitudes. You have to choose to get out of the ghetto and you have to change your body language, your clothes, your turns of phrase, your door holding manners, your mind. You have to create a different value set for a different situation to get there.

To float higher in society out of the middle class - the anonymous people - those trained to be replaceable one for the other - the same thing has to happen. I want to become irreplaceable. I think I am already, and not in the everysoulisvaluable and allpeoplearegreat sorta way, the Christian values way, either. I want to be someone that most people will not be able to understand because I was created in such an unusual manner, and used in such an unusual manner by me! [Oh, like perhaps writing a diary online? Naaa.]


just think it.

Wed Oct 4 1995


Traces of democracy.

Thu Oct 5 1995

fast fast fast ISP yeah!

democratic process ... here we have a continent, the whole western world really, who all really like to say they live in democratic countries. But, think about what parts of you life in your country is actually governed in a democratic manner. Here in Canada we have a system where the decision making bodies are duly elected in a democratic manner. This includes three or four levels of government, many of our business associations, various hobbyist groups elect their presidents, the student councils. What else? Note this doesn't include most of the government, or most of any other of these organizations. It doesn't include businesses at all. It doesn't include mos tof the decisions that politicians make such as when I can park in front of where I live.

This democracy thing has had a really successful marketing agent. Most of us wonder around being proud to live in a democracy when in fact most of what msot of us do is not democratically governed at all. Imagine that. It shocks me actually. Would my comapny run better if it were internally democratic? Between my partner and I it is. We both value reason and honesty and make decisions between us honestly. But the people we employ don't get this sort of input. I'd like them to. I wonder strongly what would happen if we did this. We'll see.

There are so many other things we could vote on. Until I figure out that the (marginally reminiscent of) free market we have in Canada is functionally equivalent to a democratic market (whatever that is), I have to wonder a lot.

Many people I know strongly differ about the politics I hold. This makes them concerned about being ripped off by big business and treated right by government. I don't even have a notion of big business. I always see individual people making decisions. That's it. Some of them make decisions in such a way that they end up creating big things, and others end up on the sidewalk. Not very democratic though is it. If an individual person is a democratic system internally then we can think of their decisions as the voting process. Odd angle to view a person from, but it works for me. So I figure that my friends on the left vote internally to be looked after by the environment more than I do. There are two reasons I can see that they might feel this way (other than that this may be the default we are born with). They might be wrongly convinced that they wouldn't make it without help ever. And they might be right.

I think I can make it in the world without help. I reinforce this belief by also believing that I don't want help. Of course the latter is a mistake. If help or partnership is there, it is better to go with it quite often. It's more fun, for instance.

OK.. meta point. Here I am analysing what a person's individual psychology must be in order for them to hold certain political views. This is curious at best. Also I already knowthat many people hold views that are radically different from ones they've held previously. I'd have to account for that too. I want to narrow the scope of claim to those people who don't think that much, and to those who like to keep harmony in their system by acting out what they believe. Hypocrites are a completely different category, as are idealists.

Here I am babble fishing about nothing much just because I don't have anything better to do. :) Ah well.

Perhaps I should write a poem.


Furthering just causes.

Fri Oct 6 1995

One upset stomach to go . away please.

I had a dream on awaking this morning that I couldn't breath any longer. Could have been Carey's poem that caused it, much like bad food messes with one's stomach, but I don't think so. I can't quite recall the plot or the details, but I do remember that waking into reality didn't seem to cut it.

............................................................

I talked with Peter today. He and I both miss each other. The full time living together part. We've built things very differently but a lot of that relies heavily on the environmental changes we've made - me moving out, him living with what's her name (she disallowed me from mentioning her sacred name). We both seem to know know that it's not just me who is a high maintenance person. He is too. Very much so. He also seems to know now that my ways of doing things work, and well too. He listens to requested advice, and turns to me for comfort (a lot, it turns out). I know he is wearing thin in spots. I wish I could help more than I do, but I do help I think.

Living together again would entail so much though. I wouldn't move back there ever. The place is run down, and I couldn't begin to make it worth living in again. It took so much of my energy to live there previously. I used to fail to eat for a day at a time because there were too many dishes to avoid inthe sink that weren't mine. I simply will not play housewife for anyone (except myself :). Those are the small things - the things that creep under everyone's skin - the little differences that are not important really but that become most important if not done your own way. Those things. I think that love cannot solve these problems, only consideration can. But even consideration can have to high a cost. Peter simply does not pay attentionto the dishes inthe way I do. He believes in leaving everything where it is. I believe in putting everything back into its home spot. Separately, these things are both fine principles to live by. Together they clash really badly, and lead to resentment on one side and a feeling of being nagged on the other. And that is bad news.

I'd like to live in a space where the cats come and go between two or three separate apartments .. mine, his, and a middle buffer zone for having guests and other forms of shared company. The buffer zone would be governed by a blend of our tastes, but the private apartments only personally inhabited. I wouldn't want him to be in mine because I wouldn't want to have to hang out in his. Simple.

On the less trivial and probably less obvious areas of our relatings, we have already learned a lot. I find him to be so warm and clear headed (usually - sometimes he's as pig-headed as ...!)

BUT ... I know this was in there. There are concerns here too. I don't want to become a Peter groupy. I never have. I miss the warm underlying feeling of companionship in the world. I miss having a cat as much as anything really. Right now there a huge number of balloons floating around the apartment .. not as good as a cat for company, but they do move around somewhat. I'd like to live with someone from 5-8 at night only. That's it, and also late at night around midnight when I'm trying to fall asleep. Then too. But not in the morning, and not during the day. Not now either. How do these things get arranged? I guess if one's partner works a regular work day this happens fairly naturally. Work during the day, then a pleasant dinner together, then off to the respective hobby tasks. Then back together to snuggle and sleep. I never realised before that the times I want company are exactly the times that my family would forcibly (according to parent law) be together: dinner and post dinner hours; after evening TV watching or hobbying external to home .. house. Hmmmm... rather subconscious of me, I'd say.

[Neat MIT Media Lab project I just played with. I got a shrimp for lips. They really knew that the survey filling thing would get to me! And the article by Margie Borschke reviewing this place in Prodigy's Living Digital area is mirrored here for internet users. I think Margie will enjoy the incredible loopiness this will create!]

I guess I give up on the idea that people can learn to comforatbly live with each other inclose quarters. Peter and I lived for 5 years in the basement of a townhouse we own for which we can barely get $300 CAN nowadays. 5 years. The idea was to always rent the best parts of the space to tenants and live in the smallest bare minimum we could. I lived like that for 5 years, and then at our new humungous house in the same way for 5 more years. No way. I'm not that sort of person. I want space to think, and breath in. Decorated, and arranged comfortably for others to visit in too. (I'm not so good at the latter given my over reaction to finally having my own space. That should go away soon though I hope.) The smallest bare minimum always had furniture to match, if at all. The best stuff we owned was always wht tenants abandoned. (Which by the way, is often really good stuff!) No. Now I buy what I want, and I finally get to decorate. It seems that Peter and I disagreed so much on how to do this that neither of us did it at all. Now he gets to live in a very green apartment (I painted it dark forest green before moving out :) with two roommates, and I have a nice two bedroom alone. Heh. Interesting turn of events. Why would I want to scale down again and live like a termite for ten more years? If I had to I could. I've done it before. But I don't have to and I don't want to. The idea of saving all my money for later, must be moderated. I'll save lots of it for later, and use some of it now! What a great compromise.

As for living together again, I really will have to think about that. Seriously and a lot.


arrival immanent.

Sat Oct 7 1995

Hella arrives to stay a few days here. !! Hope it's fun. I'll enjoy having company .. a guest here. She arrives with pictures apparently. Hmmm, I wonder what they could be of.

Sage wrote about the writeup on diaries. Sage's writings are so wonderful so I'll link her here.

I must do a final tidyup here. :) And pretend I didn't. Heh.

Journals abound here .. one of my favourite reads on the 'net. But my desire to link in the whole Internet today aside, I must run.

miau

...flip the page...


finale


All daughter rightings of Carolyn's Diary are copyright © Carolyn L Burke, 1995, and may be copied without permission except for non-commercial gain. See what your lawyers can make of "that".


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