I don’t think I ever “almost” anything. I really don’t. I think I’m very Yoda-ish in that way. There is no try. There is do or not do. I do, or I do not do. I succeed or I fail. Or I’m still working on something and not there yet. But I don’t think I’ve ever “almost”-ed anything. Or at least I don’t think that way. I either succeeded, or didn't.




I put a padlock on my room when I was a teenager. Because I didn't trust my parents. I didn't have anything in there to hide. It just bothered me that they'd rifle through stuff. One of them would throw things out too. "Cleaning." (How about 'Cleaning" while I'm there? - And why "clean" the things that were neat? - Oh that's right… because 'since things were neat and clean I obviously didn't use them!' UGH!)

I know there are people who may read this and think "My house, my rules." That's fine to an extent. I mean of course you're right. But then don't be a jerk about it. Don't violate your kid's privacy and security in a destructive way. Don't throw away their things when they're not home without asking. Don't jump to conclusions about things you read in a diary (which is really none of your business. Sorry.) If you claim to be a "concerned parent" then be an actual concerned parent. Have a good relationship with your kid. Don't be a crappy parent, with a crappy relationship, then toss your kid's room once in a while because you're nosy, and use "concern" as an excuse!

Do I sound bitter? I am. Funny how things hang around.

For what it's worth, I've never used drugs, never smoked, never drank (I've had sips of stuff that looked good! But I don't drink. Alcohol doesn't "work right" on me, so there's no point.) I was ridiculously obedient. There was nothing to be suspicious about.

Oh and as for the "their house their rules" thing… one of my parents will still go through people's things any time they're left alone somewhere. My things, your things, friends' things, strangers' things… It's not about concern and it's none of their business. My being a kid in their house was no different.

- Think it's weird that I got away with putting a padlock on my door as a teen? - Me too! Certainly THAT was a reason to be suspicious! But really, I'd just had enough.


  • Children's Television
  • Santa's
  • Theatre class type workshop

How do those three come from that same word? They seem nothing like each other.

I wouldn't mind having a workshop. A space of my own, to build and create, that's set aside for only that purpose and nothing else. For crafts, for creating, for building… I'd like having my own workshop. But it wouldn't be in a garage or shed. I'd want it to be someplace comfortable and organized. Easy to clean, with storage space and outlets for all my tools and supplies, good lighting, and enough room to make something as small as a craft or toy, and as large as a bed or a bookcase if needed.



Thinking tv…radios… obvious stuff… static cling... hair… clothes… shock from walk rug (walking on)... shock from touching a person, sometimes. Static is bad, it seems. Pain, or something not working, or negative. But really, it is a release of energy. That is not directed where the person would like it. It is an annoyance. It is something not working the way people want it to. And it makes a sound… a crackling sound. And that annoys people too.




Our camp mess hall was like a big large wooden barn. Lots of long tables.... counselor would get food at the head of the table, and serve, and plates/bowls would be passed down the table. At some point there would be camp songs... I don't remember exactly how or when or why these started during meals, but people were very enthusiastic.


Mispelled! lol!

Ok that’s just going to bug me.

Now I’m thinking OCD… I guess I have more than I should if all I can do is look at a misspelled ‘mispelled’ word!

Although… maybe “pelled” is something… Something that was ‘mis’d – Now I have to look that up. Nope. “Pelled” is not a word.

So maybe "Pelled" should be tomorrow’s word :)



Not sure why, but I picture a novel, with a watchtower on it. Was there a novel called that? I am not a big reader, so I doubt it's anything I ever read. But I might have seen the book cover.

Oh, wait! Isn't that a religious thing? Like one of those pamphlets they give out? I think that's what I'm seeing...

I guess that really does tell you how much I read. I equate religious spam with cheap novels.



Chocolate. I picture a chocolate cake. Rich. - Because isn't that what this word is usually used to describe? Chocolate and cake? That and parties, with crystal chandeliers (which really, anyone can get pretty cheap nowadays) in a big white marble ballroom, with people in tuxedos and long white gowns, with their hair up, sporting diamonds and drinking champaign, at a party... - that's serving rich dark chocolate cake.



What I'm doing. I guess... I don't know what to do. Is that stalling, or waiting?

I think stalling is maybe, if you know what to do, you're going to do it, and you're trying to take as long as possible before having to do the inevitable terrible bad thing that is making you anxious. Waiting... I think that's different. I think waiting is... when your choice is to not do something. Not unless, and until, you can figure out how to do it ok.



Turboencabulator. Complete with nofur trunions, reciprocating dingle arm, and of course side fumbling is effectively prevented.



I LOVED overalls!!! If I didn't realize how dopey they look on me now, I'd totally STILL wear overalls! If I had a job that required overalls I'd be very happy. Like an engineer. Or... a Snoopy impersonator.

Loved overalls.

Maybe I should wear them around the house...

Ok no. How lame would that be?



"The whole universe was in a hot dense state..."

I loved science. I pretty much already said that a few days ago. Well... I talked about physics. I liked chemistry too. Wasn't as interested in biology except as it related to medicine. What else is biology good for really? Physics and chemistry though? Loved them. Just did.



First thing that came to mind was "Robot Daycare." (Another Geiko commerical.)

The second thing that came to mind is a customer service call I once made about a new modem I'd bought that wasn't working. Previously, I'd always had built in modems. I'd never had a stand alone one before. Tech support and I troubleshot it for over an hour before I noticed the stupid thing had a POWER button. - Yeah that's right. I hadn't turned it on. And tech support never asked if I had!



Was just thinking about a train station I'll be going to. There's two main ones where I live. I still feel like the other one is "my" train station. The one I grew up with and always used. I liked it. Loved the station itself. Had good memories going in and out of there.

The one I'm going to soon... I don't know... it's different. Not "mine." I wonder if, at this point, I've used it as much or more than the first one. I still don't like it somehow. I feel stressed... saddened, in a way, when I'm there. I know where I'm going, it's convenient in ways, and yet, I still don't think of it as "my" station.



First thing that came to mind was learning to ride horses. So much I could write here but won't. I learned from someone who was a real jerk. So it's probably little surprise that when he forced my horse to jump, rather than letting me circle it around to get momentum for another attempt, I was pleased to hear that I'd kicked him in the head while hurtling through the air when the horse threw me.