copyright 1998 diary of a mad handyma'am an anonymous cyberspace diary & property of the mad handyma'am    1  2  3  4  5  6  7  8  9  10  11 12  13  14  15  16  17  18  19  20  21  22  23  24  25  26  27  28  29  30  31

February 1st, 1998

Yeah, so I'm becoming sporadic quite early on wouldn't you say? Oh, well. Truthfully, it's a sure sign of life beyond the keyboard. We all know how that goes, don't we?!

Maybe you need a break from whatever it is you do... or, whatever you don't.

Really though, I've written to you many times since the last. Letters that were never sent. I just kept crumpling it up and starting over because I didn't know what to say... and see, I still don't.

February 2nd, 1998

I never did seem to grasp the fine art of napping or relaxing for long. Seems there's always something to do. And, top that off with the raging insomnia I've been dealing with... 3 to 5 hours of sleep a night isn't cutting it.

In talking to an retired guy I've known for years, he says that he requires a lot less sleep than he used to. Oh, great for me to hear that one! Apparently it's all a part of the never ending aging process. So, by the time I'm 70 - I won't be sleeping at all... I'll try not to think about that tonight.

I'm exhausted...

February 4th, 1998

There have been some strange things going on at my house in the past few weeks. Now, I've lived at the same place for the last 8 years with no prior incidents. Not one. Nothing. Nada...

One of the first things to occur was I'm laying in bed just waking up and I hear a little shriek coming from the kitchen. It was my girlfriend Laura and, before I knew it she came rushing in to the room wide-eyed and said,

"OH MY GOD! THE COFFEE POT WAS ON BUT, IT WASN'T PLUGGED IN!"

Wow. Think of the energy we could save if we could harness that!

The other odd occurrences have been things disappearing and showing up in strange places, mostly like - where they don't belong. One morning as I frantically searched for my keys I went upstairs to look and Laura hollered up, "hey - I found 'em;" and just where were they I ask as I make my way down the stairs. "Right here on the table," she said.

In the same place I had slapped a newspaper moments earlier on that table! I know they weren't there! I always know where my keys are, I've never had a habit of losing them or, misplacing them because I never deviate from putting them anyplace other than my few usual spots. It's more than unusual that these keys have ended up "missing" on 2 separate occasions within the past few weeks...

Now why do we think these things are happening? The only possible explanation I have for any of this is that my father died last February 9th and, the "anniversary" we won't be celebrating is nearly upon us. Dad was a real practical joker while he was alive...

...but, he unexpectedly committed suicide at 58. There's a very long and tragic story connected to all of this and perhaps, at a later date, I'll tell you.

What I can tell you now is that this past year was the most difficult year of my life. I can't believe how much it hurts and, I still can't believe that he is gone...

...but, is he? I must admit that both Laura and I have felt like he's been around us lately. While it's not a familiar feeling to me, it's not a particularly scary one either. Yet, the closest we both got to being really freaked out by this stuff was an incident that happened Monday night...

<<<<<     this little guy is my Dad

... we were in "the Outback Inn" - a 12 x 20 foot utility building that sits about 100 feet away from the back door. It serves as a workshop and general area of retreat. It has an 4 x 8 addition on the fenced-in west side; half of which is a double-decker doggie condo and, the other half (which is accessible from inside) is an "in-house outhouse!" Inside the main building, there's a small loft with a queen size mattress and foundation (of course, a comforter and pillows, too!) Anyway, full grown adults will smack their heads on the trusses if they climb up there and straighten upright, even though the roof ridge is over 15 feet from the floor. Originally, the loft was going to be used for storage and, maybe, a drafting table. But, - that was before we realized that the foundation of the bed didn't have the clearance to turn the corner upstairs... such is life, eh?

 the Outback Inn - winter

...so anyway; there's this gorgeous antique reproduction type cast iron stove on a raised hearth in the right back corner (from the vantage point of walking in the door.) The woodstove sits on the raised hearth because it is a short and squatty stove, and, because it's a cookstove. It would have been too uncomfortable being bent over anytime you wanted to load the stove or, cook on it. We've got a varied assortment of cast iron cookware hanging from an old iron rack (near the built-in ladder type loft steps), along with a wok. There are at least, 10 different spices sitting on a shelf next to the olive oil and marshmallows, right above the little table that sits in the left back corner. The building smells like a restaurant! A spicy mix of garlic, oregano, cayenne, cumin hits you even upon entering. You can tell that the stove has been doing double duty from the beginning by a mere sniff.

Now, back to this past Monday night. We both had the day off and decided to hang out in the Outback Inn. We started a fire shortly before noon and decided we'd (surprise!) cook on the stove. And, so we did.

We cooked steak smothered with onions, (which Laura quickly consumed - while raving the entire time!) and, made a big batch of chicken burritos friends over for dinner. We had several shots of Courvoisier (pronounced: cur-vah-see-aye), and we were both feeling pretty good... company left around 8:30.

We threw another fat oak log on the fire, flung open the front door of the stove, pulled our chairs up and sat back to enjoy the view. More Courvoisier added to the glow. Soon after, we were talking about Dad.

I told Laura that, "he's probably sitting in that chair right there..." as I pointed to the blue canvas seat on the wood chair that I had picked up one morning from the roadside as I drove to work. Then, I went on to explain that earlier when she had gone to the store, that I'd gone up to the house to get a Mountain Dew. My hands were full as I transported additional goods toward my return to the Outback Inn; as always, naturally trying to a snuff a few birds with a single stone. As I walked up to the door of the building I got about 10 feet from the door when the door flung open for me!

When the door opened, I turned and said out loud, "OK Dad, thanks! You go in first will ya, I wanna talk to you. Go ahead and sit in that chair there..." I waited a few moments before entering. I wasn't afraid, only amazed that I did feel somewhat amused. Plus I had a grin on my face that widened upon my spontaneous remembrance of Dad saying at one time or another, "get that grin off your face before I knock it off..." and here I am, in the Outback Inn, alone (but not feeling it) and audibly grinning.

I didn't hear anything. Other than the door opening, I didn't see anything either - Nope. My Dad didn't materialize like some Dad's allegedly do. Thank God he didn't right then. There's a good chance I would have had a heart attack, or at least, maybe wet my pants. Under those circumstances, it's a good thing Dad was a no-show.

As a matter of fact, there have been no purported sightings of Dad since he died. Apparently, only Elvis has the power to return from the dead. Something an ordinary Dad seemingly does not possess. Or even like mine, ...an extraordinary Dad. Maybe sequins are the secret to break through to the other side.

Anyway - back to Laura and I conversationally goofing off in front of the fire; we begin talking out loud to Dad. I got the step stool and reached up on the wall for the dowsing rods that hadn't been touched in a year. Pulled them out of the plastic bag they were in and held them, one in each hand. I continued to talk to the chair. As I approached the chair the one of the rods began to spin very fast. It scared me a little and at one point Laura was talking while I held the rods and they stopped and locked tips, pointing directly at me. It seemed very strange. I gave the rods to Laura and said, "you try it, " while feeling a little shaken from the odd experience.

She held the rods in each hand. Nothing was happening at all. I began talking again and said, "come on Dad, do it for Laura - show her how fast you can spin that thing..."

...it started spinning seconds after I said that. Laura's eyes widened and her jaw dropped. After a minute of spinning and talking I said "STOP!" semi-loudly and...

...it stopped completely right then. It stopped as if were touched by an invisible hand.

As for Laura, you could see the goose bumps on her arms! The look on her face was a look I hadn't seen before. And all this time I had thought I'd seen all of her facial expressions. She really wanted to throw those things down on the floor and run...

Neither of us know what to think about any of this. I probably wouldn't believe any of it had happened if Laura wasn't there, too. It's harder to tell yourself something didn't really happen when you have a witness. It's easier to believe it didn't when you are alone... especially if your a bit of a skeptic at heart.

February 6th, 1998

WHY would I want to do this page?

That's the reaction I got from a few people upon telling them about this. They haven't seen it. When I was asked that question, I didn't know what to say - so, why am I doing this? Is it a bad thing? How much of myself am I willing to reveal? Will it become too personal? Too weird? Or, are certain people wondering what I may say about them? Are they afraid?

Why do I feel as if I have to justify what I decide anyway? Why do I feel a little defensive about it? Why do I give a crap about what anyone thinks about it? And, why would anyone care about what I might say here? Is my opinion on anything, even one small thing, gonna change the entire world? Hell no!

Why - why - why?? It seems to me that we are always second-guessing things. Always analyzing things. Always looking for rationalizations and alleged reasons... it must be a curse on the human condition. It can be paralyzing and a time waster. And frankly, I don't want to tear my psyche apart looking for answers where there may be none.

At this point, nothing here is particularly controversial. And then the controversy begins after you ask me what I think about the whole President Clinton thing that been in the news, huh?

Ok then. I'll tell you how I feel about that: PRESIDENT CLINTON IS NOT THE POPE.

Ken Starr the investigator, should be investigated using his own tactics. Also - the entire congress as well. I doubt many of us, our families and friends included, could stand up to such microscopic scrutiny.

Many of our past presidents don't have shining virtues or morals. Several had children with women other than their wives, and there have been many that had affairs. These types of things were known by those close to them but, not to the general public.

I think the whole matter should be between Bill and Hillary...

So what about this Monica Lewinsky? What about her? Do you really think that Clinton would have had to tell her not to tell?? Wouldn't that be common sense if you're an adult and you are doing sexual things with the President of the United States who is obviously married?!

You don't think that politicians have GROUPIES? Well, they do. They only dress a bit different than your average rock star groupie, ala Pamela Des Barres. The motivation is similar... position, power and money are aphrodisiacs to some people. Whether Monica qualifies for groupie status remains to be seen...

Mainstream media is blurring the line between tabloid style and old school journalism. I don't think that most people want to know what the president is doing with "little willie."

Do I think "he did it?" Probably so. Something happened, but I don't see it as my business. We have to have some off limit zones - don't we? It seems our boundaries have eroded. What is privacy when it isn't?

I have to admit that I found it kind of funny to see some of the national newscasters squirming in their seats when this whole snafu broke out and they had to say the phrase "oral sex" on the nightly news. I wondered immediately how many children were out there who looked at Mom or Dad and said, "oral sex...what's that??"

There you have it! My first controversial subject. I'm well on the way to potentially pissing people off worldwide...

...flaming e-mail sent in my direction won't get a response.

February 8th, 1998

Yesterday Laura and I visited a friend that lives an hour away, a visit that was long overdue! The sun was shining and we were looking forward to the day. Lefty Laura was driving one handed, nursing a full cup of cappuccino in the right.

We were about 2 miles away from the house, driving along on a familiar high-speed, two-lane, undivided rural highway and we were trying to figure out what was shining in the horizon ahead. The first thought was that the party store up ahead put up a new sign as something new seemed to be blazing orange in that direction...

... just then, an Astro Van about 100 yards away crossed the center line heading for us. The out-of-control van then began skidding back to it's proper lane - where we now were - and, in attempting to avoid it, we began skidding out of control and heading for the ditch. Laura pulled her best Starsky and Hutch move, we did a 360 degree skid - missing the van and the ditch by inches...

The van wasn't stopping!!

"Turn around and follow that <add expletive here> - they aren't even stopping...," and so we did. Only then did the driver pull the van over to the side of the road. A woman, 30-ish with 3 kids in the vehicle, hair in disarray, teeth as big as Chicklets, and an odd look on her white face is staring blankly at us as she cranks down the window...

Laura says <loudly>, "Lady, what the hell is the matter? Are you OK? You almost killed us," to which the woman responds:

"...errr...aahh...BUT NOTHING HAPPENED..."

<duh!>

Laura then proceeds with, "just what were you doing?"

to which the woman says, "I was lookin' for my kid..." <seatbelts?>

Laura then gives her the, "you have children in the car, please get your shit together lecture" whereupon we leave... our hearts still beating in our throats. A few miles down the road like karma, we see the local sheriff, flag him down and report the incident. Who knows? She could be someone with a history of reckless driving, drunk driving or who knows what. You don't know who's in the car next to you or, what they may have in the car any more than you'd know what's on their mind.

To think that it's normal to be speeding down the road while we are encased in plastic, leather, and metal - inches from one another is somewhat strange when you think about it. Suddenly, the state of mind of strangers takes on a totally new meaning.

We were fortunate there were no other cars around. If there had been someone behind the van or us, I might not be able to update this page - something that I am sure makes you feel incredibly lucky today. Maybe not quite as lucky as we felt though!

February 9th, 1998

The dreaded first anniversary of my Dad's death has passed. Without any poltergeist fanfare or spiritual manifestations in, around or, near the Outback Inn.

Suicide certainly adds another dimension to the loss...

...so today - instead of concentrating on the sadness, we celebrated our lives.

It was the best goodbye I could give. And that's the way he would have wanted it.

February 11th, 1998

As mentioned at the start of this diary, I've been debating how much of myself I would reveal here, and, I've found myself reaching a peak moment of realization early on. In order to actually write, I have to be honest and tell you that Laura and I are more than friends.

So there you have it. And, although you cannot hear my hysterical laughter, you can imagine it if your imagination is in working order. That sentence above, "Laura and I are more than friends," for some unknown reason has me cracking up...

Yes indeed - "MORE THAN FRIENDS," imagination leads me to believe that it could be a new TV show; at least maybe an episode of Ellen. Yet it could be a skit on Saturday Night Live... where the cast of "Friends" jump the fence, so to speak...

...anyway, the fact is we are more than friends - we are friends to the tenth power !

"Coming out" is never really ever over, it's a lifetime process...

So, now you know. <if you have a BIG problem with that click here to leave NOW!>

For the curious minded, you won't find me telling you about gay and/or lesbian life here; I cannot address what everyone else on the planet is doing any more than any "straight" person can give accurate blanket statements regarding heterosexuality. My opinions are my own. I speak only for myself and my life; I don't speak for the masses! Yet I happen to be a woman who is in love with another woman...

...otherwise, I simply am...

 FEBRUARY 14th, 1998   

Happy Valentine's Day!!
I'm busy gearing up for this years projects... I bought a house that was in need of more than a facelift, and, I've been renovating it for the past 9 years. Essentially, everything has been ripped out of it and replaced or, I should say, retrofitted. I'm convinced that building something new would have been easier but, I have gained an incredible amount of knowledge and skill along the way.

Of course, it's much easier to recognize this after the fact. Ask anyone who has gotten into something like this and they'll tell you - it takes a lot of discipline and sacrifice. Sacrificing your time, your money and, occasionally, your mental health! The discipline comes in convincing yourself not to run away from it. It can be very overwhelming. Nearly every step of the way you will come up against the unknown. And, the unknown always costs you a little more. Whether it's the money or the time, it's gonna cost ya...

Looking at what I've accomplished up to now, I can say it was worth it. Yet, maybe my brain is blocking out the times when this place was my hell...

The cost of building materials, especially lumber and drywall, have gone up substantially in the last 9 years. I've put well over 100 sheets of drywall in this place. Most that I bought for less that 2 bucks a sheet. That same drywall will run you about 5 bucks today. And 2x4's that were once less than 2 bucks each are over 3 today...

...I gauge the economy by the price of building materials. Something I never thought I'd ever know anything about.

More proof that you don't always know where life is taking you...

FEBRUARY 16th, 1998

I'm back, and, sporadic just like I promised. Hopefully the summer won't put me on hiatus too much.

In looking back at my last entry, the last line struck me, " more proof that you don't always know where life is taking you..."

That statement couldn't be more true about life. This year proved to me that once you get wise enough, you become wise enough to know that you don't anything at all. Now, some of you won't understand what I'm talking about, but - some will know exactly what I am saying.

I thought I knew where life was taking me. And, there was a time I had it all planned out. And then something big happens to you. You have no choice but to step out of that illusion, and, suddenly - you seem to have lost that comfort zone within yourself. Your illusions are shards of broken glass and, you don't know how, but eventually, you know you have to let them go. Yet it's SO HARD to do that.

Like being in a bad relationship and wishing things were different... or, waiting for that person to "change" somehow - because you KNOW they will. You build an illusion over the years and buy right into it. No matter how uncomfortable it may be, it's the familiarity of whatever the dysfunction... fairyland thinking is what I call it.

You write the story... you read it and, you believe it. Is there anyone else here to truly blame? Ahhh, don't worry - you'll be there to kick yourself square in the ass for it at a later date... so - give yourself a good swift kick and move along. There's no need to keep kicking yourself after the fact.

I think that FAIRYTALES helped lay the foundation for perfect expectations in life...

February 18th, 1998

Hey! I had planned to write ya all last night but < sorry! > I never got around to it... I bought a flatbed scanner yesterday on my lunch hour and had some fun playing around with it and testing it. Laura arrived home about 10 p.m. with wine. We played with the new toy, drank wine until we giggled; and, until I realized it was after 1 a.m. and that 5:30 alarm was gonna be a big problem.

I got out of bed without force, and I made it through 10 hours at the office today, a minor miracle saved by the Gevalia Kaffee I hauled along with me in the dark. Only slight pressure in the frontal lobe area...

...and, then I see this headline article on the CNN news site:

Scientist: Wine reduces death from all causes by 30 percent

Regardless, there's no wine glass in my hand tonight... and, I still think that it'll be a long, long time before the word WINO gets the respect it apparently deserves.

So, the next time somebody calls you WINO, take it as the compliment it is. Toast to them with glass in hand, give profound thanks to the Grape God and, use your free hand to shoo away the fruit flies that have magically appeared around your head...