Right now I am depressed, more so then I have been in a long time.Last night Art and I got into a fight; actually, that's all we do these days is fight. When we first met, I thought he would be the one guy who'd turn out to be different from everyone else. He made all these promises about the future, promises that I specifically asked him NOT to make, and even though I knew I shouldn't have, I bought into it all HOOK, LINE, AND SINKER.I don't know what compelled me to date him. I didn't care that he had luekemia, if I could make it after losing Carolyn, I figured I could do the same with him. I understand that he is conflicted about his own mortality BUT that doesn't excuse his manipulation of his illness to guilt me. It does't excuse is recent lack of interest or affection in me. Why am I allowing myself to be hurt over someone who has treated me less than stellar?I didn't want to be in a relationship. I didn't want to become emotionally involved only to be hurt again. I was fine with my single status AND then he comes along, shows me a glimpse of what the future COULD be like, and now here I am wanting more.It's pathetic.I'm also sick again on the first weekend off I've had in six weeks. I can't drink b/c of the antibiotics, I can't smoke because of the bronchitis, I can't go to the beach because of my ears. I'm limited in my ability to do anything and it's frustrating. The only thing I do have to keep me preoccupied our my thougths and those are so negative these days that I find myself watching really bad television to keep my brain distracted. I have been reading a lot these days, which truth be told, is a good thing. I've also been thinking a lot about Carolyn.I miss her.I don't think you ever get over the death of a friend. Her impact in my life was so profound that even in death, she is still felt. I don't understand how someone so fucking intelligent, loving, passionate, and soulful can be taken away. I'm not angry over her death; hell, I feel lucky to have had the time that I did have with her BUT losing her has left me with a void that I've spent the past two years trying to fill. I never even realized that this is what I have been trying to do until recently after some serious contemplation BUT it is. I think my situation with Art had a lot to do with Carolyn. I know that he is not, nor will he EVER be like her BUT he is going through the same thing she was. I guess I assumed that, like Carolyn, he would be appreciative with the time he has. I thought he would live every moment of his life to the fullest and be grateful for the good that comes his way---that was MY mistake. He wallows in his grief, he relishes the pity and attention he receives as a result of it, and when things don't go his way he blames the cancer--the cancer that is under control with this new experimental drug he is on. His case isn't even accute YET the fact taht his blood count is normal means nothing to him. I know we all deal with tragedy and sickness in different ways BUT what does that say about a person who cannot be grateful for the second chance they have been given in life? What does this say about me, that I chose to still keep him in my life?I haven't been here on livejournal in a long time. I am finally realizing that THIS is my secret place online that I can be me AND not care what anyone thinks. I like having this place, even if it's no more then a "hole in the wall" away from the rest of the world....

Your Brain is 40% Female, 60% MaleYou have a total boy brainLogical and detailed, you tend to look at the factsAnd while your emotions do sway you sometimes...You never like to get feelings too involvedWhat Gender Is Your Brain?

Last night I had a dream.It started with me waiting for some guy to come over. I'm laying in bed, watching tv, when all of a sudden I look down only to realise I have a penis. Now I still have my big ole' titties but instead of my regular equipment, there is a penis sticking out where it shouldn't be.It was long, thick, pretty, and pink.I get so excited by my newly found penis that it, in return, gets excited too! And while I'm lying there watching my pretty pink penis become erect, I get so excited that I cum. The feeling of cumming WITH a penis was so fucking different (at least in my dream--obviously--since I don't have an actual penis) but in my dream it was intense as hell.I kept thinking to myself "damn having this penis feels good"In fact I stroked it, measured it, played with it, and stared in pure amazement as it protruded out from my pants (at least I think I was wearing pants in my dream)When I woke up this morning I seriously had to think about not touching myself just to make sure a penis wasn't there.In conclusion my cock-a-pothesis is that I don't blame men for always grabbing their balls and touching their penises. I now know that if I had a penis, I'd be holidng that bastard all the time. Those things are just fucking awesome.

Broken That was maybe the first time, right before Alma Jr. pulled on one jar and sent a couple dozen of them shattering down, so it wasn't until she was heading home that she got mad, that he hadn't kept his word and she was trying to do what she could for the family and he put her in that position at work. At least Monroe was nice about it, and she didn't have to call her sister on top of everything else. But it didn't feel fair, Ennis putting his job before hers, even though she guessed it was, him being her husband. So she backed down with hardly a word. Then there was the time when she told him, there it was, the postcard, the first one, and she just told him, just handed him over, and didn't even know it. What if she hadn't? What if somehow she'd known? Or if, just by mistake, she dropped it, lost it in the clutter of everything else. Or if Jr. had pulled it off the table, thrown it away like she was playing a game, helping Mommy clean house. Then nothing, nothing would have broken.

Jack waited until after he'd had his first physical therapy appointment, and then threw the rest of his pain pills in the garbage. The session, sixty minutes of exercises, stretches and weights, and riding a bike that didn't go anywhere, wasn't near as bad as he'd been told it'd be, in fact, it hurt a whole lot less than his easiest ride on a bull, and less even than some of his days in the saddle. ___________________________________________________________ 1st of July Lureen came back from another round of errands, saying Pretty soon I won't be able to drive, won't be able to reach around for the steering wheel, so I'm enjoying it while I can. She didn't mention that she was also enjoying breaking a few speed limits, since the one time she'd been pulled over, soon as the officer saw her belly, he waved her on her way, just saying take it a little easier, ma'am. Ma'am my aunt Mabel, she thought, and pushed the accelerator down hard the minute the patrol car was out of sight. Lureen put the food away in the frig and set the small box of fireworks out in the garage.She and Jack hadagreed without more than a sentence or two of discussion not to go anywhere near Fair Park or the rodeo arena on the 4th. Not this year. She dropped a file folder onto the sofa by Jack. New machines came in. Daddy said if you'd go over the specs and then make notes on the customer list for him, about who might be interested. Allright, Jack said. But as he worked through the brochures and the list of names, it started to not make any sense to him to write down things he kept in his head, when he could be doing the calling just as well or better than LD. Jack craned his neck around so he could see the clock above him on the wall, big fancy thing with coppery flames or rays or something coming out of it. Still early enough, probably a good time to talk to folks after they'd finished the day's work, had their supper, and were enjoying the breezes that were just starting to cool the air. One thing this house didn't have was air-conditioning, and as he called the first rancher, Hiram Benton, he saw Lureen out on one of the patio chairs, sandals kicked off and a sweating glass of lemonade in her hand. Hiram allowed as how he might just be interested in seeing a new tractor or two, that as he was coming into town anyways he'd stop by Newsome's and have a look, kick some tires. Not all the calls got as good as response, but enough did, and by the time he'd got through the whole list the next day, Jack was satisfied that he'd found a way to work while he still had to be at home. He didn't say anything to LD though, asked Lureen to make excuses about him still working on his notes, until LD had the chance to have some customers show up saying they were there because that son-in-law of his had given them a heads-up about some machinery that was gonna knock their socks off. ______________________________________________________ You know there's no way I'm gonna be givin' you the commissions on those sales, LD said to Jack. Maybe youencouraged them to walk in the door, but they'd as likely have come in anyways, and I was the one closin' the deals. Absolutely right, LD, Jack muttered, as Lureen, tired to distraction by the heat and the growing unwieldiness of her body, meant to whisper, but it came out more like a hiss, Daddy! What? LD tried to look genuinely puzzled but gave it up as a bad job, chuckled and said, I was just tryin' to see if the boy was gonna stick up for himself. Hell, I came over meaning to tell you I'll give you one percent of each sale off that calling of yours. Put that with what my insurance is payin' out, oughta tide you over until you can hobble back in to work. Sure enough, thanks a lot, LD, said Jack, and he wondered if, when that day came, he ought to check his calls against the sales list, see if LD was accurate in assigning credit for his work. LD waved his hand in the air, dismissing Jack's thanks, and turned to his daughter. "I've got to go pick up your mother and her side dishes for the committee barbeque, but she sent me over here to take one more shot at getting you two to come along." Lureen shook her head. "We've been over this, Daddy, not this year. I'm just not up to it." "You or him?" LD pointing his thumb at Jack, who was leaning on his cane as he pulled open the sliding glass door and went out on the patio. "Both of us. We'll see you tomorrow, ok? Momma's waiting for you." Whenit got dark, they set the sparklers in a row along the edge of the grass in the backyard,set them alight, laughing in their clumsy, kneelingrush to get them all going at once.They put the whirligigs and and fountains and Roman candles on the concrete andtook turns lighting them, one by one.Thecolorsflashed and sparked in the warm night,Jack and Lureen seeing bright arcing trails in the aireven after the bits of fire had fallen and burnedthemselves out. _______________________________________________________ Lureen started sleeping later, going to bed earlier, taking naps a couple times a day. It felt strange to Jack to see his wife, who'd always seemed to move just a little bit faster than anyone else around her, slow down so much. Even when she was awake, she moved like she was walking through water, half-floating, half-working against a resistance only she could feel. When they went for walks in the morning and evening, something the physical therapist told Jack he had to do, it got so that Lureen just couldn't keep up, and after once around their block, she'd tell Jack to go on by himself. ________________________________________________________ Beginning of August, Jack was back at work. He still limped, had to use both hands to grab onto the wheel and frame, haul himself up, when he climbed up into the seat of a tractor or combine, but he could manage the pedals well enough to drive around the lot. He enjoyed seeing Dave and Rita again, and the guys out in the shop. He started taking some of the customers out for a sandwich, or a beer if it was late enough in the day. On Newsome's he'd say, and closed more than one deal by pushing plates and glasses aside and sketching out favorable numbers on a paper napkin. Spending even more time with LD was not one of the benefits of going back to work in person. Especially since LD had greeted his arrival that first day with, Well, look what the bull dragged in. Welcome back, Rodeo. A glare from Jack had taken care of any co-workers being tempted to copy their boss' example, but LD stuck with the nickname from then on. Jack was grateful that at least he hadn't started using it outside of work hours. _____________________________________________________ Lureen thought she'd be glad to have the place to herself during the day, be able to put her feet up and close her eyes, and not have Jack's restless pacing driving her to distraction. But once he was gone, she couldn't settle, and nothing helped. 'Surprise' baby showers, getting the baby's room ready, shopping for the baby (Fayette insisting on getting doubles of everything, in pink and blue, just to be prepared) got her nerves so on edge that one evening at dinner at her folks' she said, Jack and I are goin' on vacation tomorrow. What the hell, sputtered LD. Honey, I just hardly got back to work, Jack said, making what he thought was a good point. He noticed LD nodding vigorously in agreement. That was a sight he didn't see very often. But Lureen had some arguments of her own all ready. Jack's been working for you for over a year now. Means he's got two weeks coming to him. Fact he was hurt doesn't change that. But what about when the baby comes? this from Fayette. He can take a week off then if he wants. I'm not talking about us taking a cruise to Bermuda or anything. Just getting away for a few days. She turned back to her father, If you don't give him the time off, I'll go by myself. They left the next morning. ____________________________________________________ Lureen turned the Mustang's AC up high as it would go, aimed the vents she could reach right at her, turned her face away from Jack and murmured, I'm sorry, honey. I'm just about dying of the heat. Lureen's face was pink, and there was sweat on her neck. He touched her for a moment on her arm, then rested his hand on the rise of her belly, felt the slow roll as the baby turned. ________________________________________________________ They got to San Antonio mid-afternoon, checked into the hotel, went out that evening for dinner and a first-run movie, one that wouldn't get to the Childress theater for months. Both of them worked hard at having a good time, but Lureen was twitchy and restless, stirring the food around on the brightly-colored plate in the restaurant, and then, on the walk to the hotel, she startled and grabbed at Jack's arm when a passing taxi back-fired. Jack was worn out from the long drive south, and when they got back to their room, Lureen told him to go on to bed, she'd just sit up for a while. He fell asleep within seconds of lying down. The last thing he saw before he closed his eyes was Lureen sitting in one of the armchairs, staring out at the lights. Next morning, the smell of coffee woke him up. Lureen was back sitting by the window, feet curled under her, smiling at Jack. There was coffee and danishes set out on the little table between the two chairs. The clothes that he and Lureen had hung up the night before were folded and back in the suitcases. What's going on? Jack asked, sitting up.Changed my mind, honey. I don't want to stay here in the city, thought I did. She shrugged. How about some time by the river? That ok with you? Which one?" The Frio River. We can stay at a place with cabins right by the water. It's real pretty. Cold River. Jack wondered what Texans thought was cold.You been there before? He was willing to indulge Lureen, but he'd hoped he could enjoy himself some, didn't really want to go driving for hours to different places every day if she was going to keep changing her mind. Long time ago. Mama took me and Granma Renee there for a week. There're lots of trees, places to fish if you want to. She got up, moving easily, with more energy than Jack had seen in her for weeks. She smiled at him, eyes sparkling. We can go dancing every night over at Garner. _______________________________________________________ She was right. The Frio wound through a green canyon, broken by steep limestone bluffs. There were big trees, oaks and cypress he thought, overhanging the water. It wasn't wilderness like he was used to, it wasn't Wyoming, but it was enough to ease something inside him. Their cabin was close enough to the water that he fell asleep that night to the sound of the river. Jack woke early, heated up some coffee and went out inhis pajamasonto the little porch, the worn boards creaking under his feet. He sat down in one of the old wicker chairs, propped his bare feet up on the railing, leaned back to watch the stars fade into the sky going blue above trees still dark as shadows. Heard turkeys calling. Saw a small herd of deer moving down to the water, ears twitching forward and back, large eyes searching around, looking right past Jack where he sat motionless. Their steps were slow, careful, but he still heard the crunch of twigs and oak leaves under their hooves. Lureen came out, hair still wet from the shower. She leaned up against the rail, facing him, and he went to stand by her. She put her arms out and he drew her close, her head resting against his shoulder. The flowery smell of her shampoo filled his nostrils and drowned out the green scent of the river. They went for walks, Lureen, with her new-found energy, keeping pace with Jack with no trouble at all. Every day after lunch, when the temperatures climbed, they took one of the yellow paddle boats out on the river, let the current ease them into the shaded eddies under the huge stretching branches, turned for hoursin lazy circleson the leaf-strewn water. Evenings, they went down the river road to Garner, joining the other couples and families walking in the early twilight, the air still warm with the heat of the last days of summer. The pavilion floor was limestone, quarried and laid down during the Depression, worn smooth over the decades since by thousands of nights of dancing. The archways into the concession stands were limestone, too, rough-cut, and the jumbled smells of popcorn, hotdogs, lemonade, sweet tea, and coffeeflowed out of them. There were lights strung up in the branches of the cypress trees and people danced in and out of the shadows and light.Where there used to be live bands, when musicians could be had for no morethan the cost of a meal, now there wasa jukebox, the choice of song up to whoever stood in line to drop in their coins. Jack and Lureen chose slow songs, Crazy, Moon River, Unforgettable, but they danced to the faster ones, too, Lureen surprised, but not about to look a gift horse in the mouth, that she could still spin and change direction. Jack found it a little easier to move without too much of a hitch in his step, without more than some twinges of pain that he ignored. When he was off dancing with one of two elderly friends who'd come over from Dallas (We do this every year, honey, have been for years!) Lureen sat with Betty Lou, who took her hand and kept patting it in time to the polka. It's just so nice of your Jack to dance with Helen. She loves dancing, and it hasn't been the same for her since her Samuel passed. Me, now, my Lawrence was the best man who ever drew breath, but he could not dance for beans, no matter how we tried. We took lessons at the community center, even at Arthur Murray, but it was hopeless, even the instructor, who was absolutely the sweetest little gal, agreed. Lawrence said he guessed he got born with two left feet and we should be grateful he could manage to figure out how to work the clutch on our Chevrolet. So I got used to sitting with him and watching. It is fun to watch everybody having such a good time, isn't it? Lureen nodded absently, but her feet were tapping the stone floor, heels and toes keeping the rhythm. You can't wait to get back out there, can you, honey? Betty asked, smiling at her,white curlsframing her laugh-lined face. Sure can't, Lureen said, grinning back. Aren't you tired? You should be taking it easy. I could get you some nice iced tea, plenty sweet? Thank you, Betty, but no, Lureen found Jack again, no matter how crowded it was, she always found him. I'm not tired at all. It been that way for you all along? You one of the lucky ones? Hardly, Lureen shook her head, I about slept through the last couple months. Once I knew Jack was going to be ok, all I wanted to do was sleep. That whole ordeal must've been so hard for you, dear, I can't begin to imagine. My Lawrence wasn't a risk-taker, not at all. I knew I could count on him always doing the safe, sensible, thing, whatever that was. But it must have been so exciting for you, seeing him ride those huge bulls. And you, too, racing so fast on your horse. Itsurprpised Lureen, that Betty Lou, who hardly seemed to pause long enough between thoughts to breathe, knew so much about her and Jack. I guess it was." But you're not tired anymore. Betty leaned in close with a happy, conspiratorial smile. You know what that means, don't you? Lureen shook her head. That my sleeping twelve hours a day finally added up to enough? No, sweetie, Betty Lou laughed, it means you're going to be a mama, real, real soon. I got that big oomph of energy each time right before my five were born. You'll see. It'll happen every time for you, too. How soon? Lureen asked, as Jack spun Helen back to them, and he held out a hand to Betty Lou, smiling in just the way that Betty remembered Lawrence smiling at her. Why, thank you, Jack, I appreciate that, but you go on with Lureen. Her feet have about danced right out of her pretty shoes, waiting for you, nice as it was for you to give Helen a spin. We're just going to sit and visit a spell. As Jack put his arm around Lureen, and she moved close to him, smelling Helen's talcum powder on his shirt, she looked back at Betty Lou, who tapped her wrist watch, smiled, and said, Two weeks. That night in bed, light fading from the room as the moon set behind the trees outside, Lureen stared over the mound of her belly at the pale curtains that swelled and shrank, over and over, against the window screens. Five babies, she could not fathom how anyone could be happy about that. Thank God, she had a choice, not like Betty Lou. Two weeks. Betty Lou had sounded awfully sure. Lureen turned over on her side, and thought she never would have guessed how much a person could miss simply being able to sleep on her stomach. Two weeks. They'd better head back home. Jack had turned away in his sleep from her restlessness. She rolled over toward him, couldn't reach far enough past the baby to settle her arm around Jack and hold him. She contented herself with brushing her hand gently down his back, her fingers slowing when they came to the ridged and hollowed scars that she couldn't see, there in the dark. ____________________________________________________ They stayed two more days, a day longer than they'd planned, not near long enough for Jack. He'd been surprised at how much he'd enjoyed those hours just lazing around in the boat, or walking at the edge of the green water of the Frio. He never done what amounted to nothing for so long, never been on a vacation since he was kid, and Harold and Maeve took him and his cousins to Yellowstone that once. It had been a time like this, a time spent floating, no chores, no school, Harold not busy working, before he got sick. A chance to watch a father who took care of his children, and laughed with them. We're going to take our child places, he said to Lureen, see the country, the whole country. He flung his arm wide, gesturing out the open window. Sure thing, Jack, she said, smiling at his enthusiasm. He hadn't talked much about what it might be like, what they'd do when they were parents. We'll start with Texas, plenty to see here, then head further out, we'll make a list. The only sound in the car was the wind. Jack had left the window down, wanted to smell the air coming down off the rough limestone bluffs, the green hills higher and holding more trees than any he was going to see in a good long while. He figured it was going to be nose-to-the-damn-grindstone for the foreseeable future, if LD had anything to say about it, and it was for hell sure he would. Lureen closed her eyes, and leaned against the rolled-up window on her side. After a few minutes, Jack looked over. He could tell she wasn't asleep. When Lureen slept, she completely relaxed, and her head would've been turning some with each curve of the road. Instead she was adjusting to the changes of direction, keeping what looked like still as the car leaned a little one way and then another, even though he was taking it slow, going easy around the bends, so she could rest, and so he wouldn't get back to Childress any sooner than he had to. He went back to watching the road. They weren't going anywhere. Truck was right when it had sputtered out on the gravel in front of Aguirre's trailer. Him and Ennis had drunk through their little supply of money, except for the couple dollars they'd held out for hamburgers at the greasy spoon on their way back to the truck. Couldn't have afforded a room even before they'd spent it. Slept sittin' up more 'n once, Ennis told him, when Jack said he had a couple blankets, that him or Ennis could sleep in the bed of the truck. It'll be warmer in here anyway, and Jack stepped back out onto the running board, reached round for the blankets. Near lost his balance, what with the beer and all, but he grabbed hold and tossed the least old of the blankets to Ennis. Jack rolled his jacket into a makeshift pillow, shrugged the blanket up over his shoulders, and listened to the few noises Ennis made as he settled in on his side of the worn bench seat. The whisper of the rough blanket over his jacket, the slight creaks of his boots as he tried to stretch his legs and found the limits of the space, the crackling of the paper bag he shoved between his head and the cold glass of the window. When Ennis' breathing had slowed and evened out, Jack looked over, and tried to figure out how he knew, sure as the Wyoming wind blew, that he'd rather watch this stranger, on this or any other night, than get any of the sleep he needed. Watched how the moonlight reflecting off the shed's tin siding turned Ennis' hair and face to silver. Saw the strength, and the tension, in the man's shoulders and back, as he tried to curl into his half of the cramped space. Knew that Ennis wasn't sleeping either. Didn't let himself think that he might be the reason for that. Figured then that Ennis had other things on his mind. And Ennis made it clear as daylight, at the end, that he still did. We could start there. Lureen was pointing to a sign up ahead Natural Bridges Caves and Jack came back to where he was from where he still wanted to be, even though he knew it was a fool's hope. It's just a few miles off the the highway. Fifteen minutes to get there according to the sign. Says bring the whole family. An hour for a tour. We should take a look at it, she smiled at him, see if we want to put it on the list. We'll still be home before dark. Sure enough, he said. Home, he thought, where in the hell was that.