A Real Journal Entry  Darth Vader and C3PO, formerly known as Moomie and Boober.  4 May 8:57 pm  What a fuckin mess.  Ok, I'm lonely.  I told the Huz the other day at the parade field, after a picnic on the gazebo, that sometimes I feel like a pup removed from the litter too soon, and while I love the family I live with now (I didn't qualify that with "most of them"), the call of the species is strong, and sometimes I want, need, to be with my own kind.  This is metaphorically speaking, of course.  There are no canine aspirations around here.  See, Darth Vader (heh) said he wanted to see a parade, if this was the parade field.  So I jumped up and gave him one.  For the hell of it.  To please a kid.  To please me.  Complete with saluting and simulated marching band.  Alone.  Guess I half-expected the Huz to realize a one-man parade is kinda dull and join in, but he just lay there.  People I used to hang with before I got married and moved off with him would do that kind of thing.  I swigged a Fruitopia (way too sweet) while balancing about on the bleacher seats, watching the clouds rip themselves apart and coalesce over and over again, thinking about fractals.  And how alien I am here.      I just read the Gus' account of the last-ever Space Party.  This kind of thing makes me smile with nostalgia, sadness, envy.  I feel like a caged beast.      I have been stupidly jealous.  Jealous that Aurora has been having some successes with Zach where I have not (getting him out of his funk, getting him back into AW) - jealousy resolved, let me add, by some frank email between her and me.  Problem is, Zach saw me drunk and jealous and filled in the gaps with some assumptions that aren't exactly on target, the assumptions being that I am still madly in love with him and that he is a bastard for being so cold and callous toward me and leaving me a smoking crater.  Now he figures that if he and Aurora wind up together, she'll wind up a similar wreck.  So, he's gonna (has?) call it off.      I'm not in love, I'm not a wreck, and he's not a bastard.  He's had a bad run of luck and made a few mistakes in judgement recently (as have I) but he's not a bastard.  All he needs to do is take it easy.  Take it easy, already.  Everything is all or nothing with him, and the states change instantaneously and absolutely.  If he is attracted to someone, and the conditions look favorable - BOOM! - he's madly in love.  If there's an uncomfortable vibe going on in there somewhere - BOOM! - he assumes he's an ass and it's all over.  All he has to do is ease up.  Get his relationships out of fifth gear and into first.  Take it slow and natural and stop forcing it.  Give communication and tolerance a try.      Hoo yeah.  Tolerance.  Tolerate yourself, tolerate your partner, tolerate the bumps relationships go through.  MY GOD!  Relationships are bumpy!  When you get done the bumpy part, all the people involved need to forgive each other and themselves and get on with it, put the bumpy part behind them.  It's called commitment.  It's trying.  It's making an effort.  Relationships are not meant to be disposable.  Oh this one is a bit soiled, let's toss it and get a new one.  It's not like that.      Damn.  This started out a confession and turned into a sermon.  He just makes me so damned angry.  He's a fine man but needs to be struck with amnesia so he can see it.  Anyway.  Anyway, I need to keep my drunken ramblings to myself.      So, the reason the Gus' adventrues lead me to the topic of jealousy is that now I am stupidly jealous of Nancy for getting invited to the Space Party.  Incredibly stupid of me, because the situations are completely different.  She's had a lot more interaction with him than I have for a lot longer than I have, and they connect.  Of course he invites her.  Why should he invite me when I am another internet person three hours away who writes a journal, reads his, and has visited twice.  Besides which, I got freaky factors going on here that inhibit my spontanaeity anyway.  What would make him think I could cut loose and come party?      Where are all these adolescent feelings coming from?  How did I get so petty?  Where has all my confidence gone?  Most importantly, where did my emotional maturity go?  I feel like a Jan Brady here, all these Marsha-Marsha-Marshas.      Deep breath.  I gotta remember that I am reinventing my life here.  I am searching for a good job, after which I'll be searching for a decent place to live and trustworthy daycare, all while freelancing and doing temp work with Manpower.  I need to make meatspace contacts, and eventually meatspace friends.  And I have to have faith that somehow I will find or attract the kinds of people I used to before, and most enjoyed friendships with.  Individuals.  Fun lovers.  People who think.  When that time comes, I will have accomplished a few things and can feel some pride in them, in myself.  Sometimes with pride comes confidence, and I can tap that.      I miss all my friends on the net, so very much.  Everything that is going on is taking all my resources.  I even now should be preparing for an admin gig I've got tomorrow.  It's 10:33 pm already (I don't write fast) and I need to medicate all my unresolvable body pains and get to bed.      Got a haircut.  Can't manage to take a decent-looking picture of it, so here's a doodle.  Gnite.  Godspeed.  -- Spring P.S.  I know, I know.  I'm a pot calling a kettle black, more often than once in this chronicle.  I gotta fix me too.  Hope we all learn together.  P.P.S.  I also am aware that Cory Glen has a picture on his site that is assumably of him.  The picture is obscured, so I don't count it.