witchyMy one friend who I actually have fun with is leaving the mountain. I can’t tell you how upsetting this is to me. He does shit like this every couple of years or so, just ups and leaves.  This time he is planning on living in someone’s house in the Poconos while he goes to Truck Driving School. I tried to talk him out of it and he just laughs. I think I may have convinced him to give two weeks notice at work, but we’ll see. Meanwhile I will just sit back and enjoy the chaos his leaving will create.

He loves to write succinct, truthful letters right around the time he disappears, and leaves them for the intended recipients, slipped under doors and other dramatic places. This should be good, because I know what has been on his mind lately.

I don’t think this is going to be the best thing for him to do, to disappear and move to Pennsylvania. I mean, what is Pennsylvania besides the state that is in the way? As far as I know,  he’s never lived on the East Coast. And Truck Driving School? For a man who’s dream is to be a florist? Ok, gay Truck Stops aside, I can’t see him being very happy living out of a rig for long distances. The man loves his creature comforts and signature colors, not to mention his designer sheets and scented candles.

These are all his choices, and there is little I can do besides be supportive. And mope. I officially started with the moping last night, and he’s not even gone yet.  He has to help me move a piece of furniture before he leaves. My power lesbian friends are giving me this exquisite white sectional sofa: they’ve opted for a more butch looking living room, with leather chairs and love seats. Marina will be taking the one we have now to school with her in the fall.

What will I do with myself, with both of them gone? And to make my anxiety worse, Marina may be spending next summer in France. The loneliest woman in the world has just gotten a whole lot lonelier. Yes, this is me moping. I’m planning on a long term mope complete with alot of chemical dependence for the next few weeks. Don’t try ‘n stop me.


An azure depth, a wordless tune,
Transcending ecstasy.

 I’m sitting here waiting for one of the ski camps to arrive…It’s been an interesting two days. Kim suggested that our boss’s husband could be losing his mind. To me he seems the same as ever, and I’m not buying 100% into his forgetfulness act. Ok, the guy has some health issues, he’s HIV positive and on a drug cocktail that can’t be having a positive effect on his liver. Apparently he and his wife were quite the coke fiend party animals before he was diagnosed. Glad I didn’t know them then.

I think he’s pulling a Corrado Soprano. Pretending to be slipping away while actually doing so.

His wife on the other hand, needs to be taken down with an elephant gun loaded with tranquilizers. I have had to look for every excuse I could find to get out of this place. The heat has driven her mad. She is wound so tight she answers every question defensively, and even when she’s trying to be accommodating to guests, she is seething with irritation. I wish I could just send her home. To make matters worse, she went and got her hair cut and it looks absolutely horrible. I mean, seriously bad. Hurts to look at it.

I often describe these two as menopausal….and now, my period is three weeks late! I’ve had PMS for over a month. If I caught their menopause I am going to kill myself! Usually the women around me adjust to my cycle, in fact, Kim started menstruating again once she started working with me. Yes, my mojo is that strong 😉

Actually, the same thing happens to me every year: June and July, no periods. I wonder if it has something to do with the amount of sunlight affecting my hormones. It has not done my mood swings any good, and I am running seriously low on Vitamin P ( fluoxitine ) Grrrr…….

I have been taking the nicest walks, though. I love this hot weather. I love wearing summer dresses, tank tops, sandals. I walk around feeling like I am in a perfectly maintained habitat: perfect temperature, perfect light…and these little tips of pine branches mixed with pine needles that accumulate on the sides of the roads to walk on. It’s like a crunchy, lovely smelling carpet that cushions every step. That, and you actually see other happy people out on the road doing the same thing you are.

I ran into Joe last night. He owes me about three hundred dollars for a car I gave him, and though I doubt he will ever pay me, at least he doesn’t avoid me. In fact, he invites me over all the time. What is up with that? People get very lonely up here, I guess.

It would be convenient: he lives right up the road. However, proximity has never been a priority of mine when it comes to men I like. Besides, he’s 30. I’ve decided that’s a little too young. And he smokes.

I need to bring a camera on our next hike. Nana swims like an otter in the river, and then climbs up on these big rocks. It will make a beautiful picture.

2270910_130.jpg…..let’s keep the car door closed with a  futon screw.

Memories of the Blue Bandito, of which I have no better pictures.  Which is a shame because it really was a Very Trashy Car. Trashy in the sense that it was not the car you wanted seen in your driveway, if you were at all concerned with appearances. Which is why I wound up with it. It was given to me by what my friend Peter refers to as “Gucci Hippies”, a couple I knew who moved here from New Jersey, as I did.

He was a java programmer and she was a meddlesome woman, a one time psychic to the stars.

This is the car I gave/sold to Joe