I used to hear people talk about the differences between being "alone" and being "lonely". I would smile and nod as they explained how these things are so different, but I would never fully grasp what they meant. How could EITHER one be a good feeling? Weren't they exactly the same thing? Devoid of companionship! Missing something in life?

Last night when that ephiphanny hit me, I was floored by how obvious the difference had suddenly become.

Being alone can be a glorious thing. It is only bad if you are lonely. You can be lonely even if you are in a relationship... but if you're okay with being alone, then you're less likely to be lonely... at least in my experience.

One day I might be able to articulate it a bit better... but I think that if a person understands the differnce between the two words... then they don't need my explanations... and if they don't understand, then no matter how eloquently I put it into words, they will not understand until THEY figure it out.

I awoke in an amazing mood, after an amazing (but all too short) sleep during which I had a smile on my face and in my heart the entire night. I still feel great, even though I wish I didn't have to be at work today, or I had some time to actually INVESTIGATE some of the issues I have on my list instead of taking on new call after new call.

Friday + payday = sweet.

My mom's cousin called just before dinner and said she was on her way over... I was making dinner, so I threw in a little more pasta, added a salad and voila! Dinner for 3 becomes dinner for 4.

It was great seeing her again after not seeing her for who knows how many years... at least 10 maybe more! The conversation was fun and family history oriented. Trudy's was the first family wedding I ever attended, so I remember it the best of any of them. To me it was magical a-way back then.

Conversation eventually turned to the topic of tattoos. What is with that topic popping up all the time, now? The disapproval was clear and rampant in my mother's words and tone. She leaves no doubt in anyone's mind that she does not approve of tattoos. Though Trudy has one, she has it in a very hidden spot, and it has special meaning to her, because it was like one her "Poppy" had. He had a monkey on his back. ;-) She does, too. It's Curious George and very cute.

Meanwhile, I'm sitting there and my mother is ranting and raving about how she things "slut" the instant she sees a tattoo on a woman and that's what anyone things and blah blah blah... Trudy agrees, by the way, that tattoos make people think bad things about the person who has it... and while I notice tattoos (and have a huge one that my mother is unaware of... ;-) ) I do not automatically assume bad things about the person who has them. For me, the person's actions tells me much more about who they are than them merely having a tattoo.

During the course of this conversation, with me grimmacing and rolling my eyes at every opportunity and my mother warning me "don't you go out and get one , now just because I said these things" - as if I would alter my body permanently just to SPITE her?! - I felt strong and true to myself and had no desire to ruin my mother's opinion of me by divulging the secret of the tattoo. I'll keep my joy to myself and sucks to be a mom whos daughter can't tell her everything and share certain joys with her...

However... just now i was trying to get to sleep, and I couldn't. I was worrying about how I would meet a guy, he'd see the tattoo and BAM! he'd run like a scared rabbit or worse, turn his nose up at me disdainfully and I'd be alone - oh so alone... I was actually, seriously falling into a pit of despair over this. I tried talking myself out of it. I tried reminding myself that getting this tattoo was my gift to myself, that I love it, that it is really a wonderful part of me... but the DOUBT and FEAR were kicking my emotional butt. WHAT THE HELL!?!

*** warning - gratuitous self-love and respect below ***

What made me feel joy and strength and power once more was One. Simple. Thought. I don't *NEED* *ANYBODY*. If no one comes along in life who will love me and adore me and share life with me simply because I have a gorgeous tattoo on my back... well then, I have many friends and best of all. Most of all. Dearest and simplest and most fantastic of all. I. Have. Me. I can be alone! True to myself. Happy. Joyful. Magical. Mystical. Creative. Beautiful. Tattood. ME! I'm ready to love someone, I'm ready to love lots of someones -- there are so many possibilities... but I will not limit what I do to myself, by myself, FOR myself... just because it might scare "someone" away "someday".

I finally. Really. Truly. Love. Me.

***end gratuitous self-love and respect****

Okay.. I know that was some graphically gratuitous self-love there (I did warn you).. but this is huge. For me. The person who has been filled with self doubt and self loathing (much of it mom-induced) is able to get over mom-induced self doubt and triumphantly feel stronger than ever before without going to anyone else to get that strength. Stupdendous.

Here's me congratulating myself. WHEEEEE! Now I can sleep in peace and harmony!

Surprising as it may seem, I haven't seen Star Wars: Episode II: Attack of the Clones, yet.

Seeing the "latest and greatest" movie isn't even in my Top 10 list of priorities right now. It's strange how suddenly it can change. I'm not quite sure why I don't care all that much... I'm a fan and everything - heck, I even lined up for Episode I tickets (and then seats) when it came out. I still want to see Spiderman on the big screen... but somehow I haven't made any time for it -- and I've been off pager for two weeks, now.

What is it that has replaced my desire to see the latest, greatest movie? I'm not sure. I'm enjoying not being a slave to pop culture... but I have yet to figure out totally why I'm not a slave anymore. Maybe it's having Real Life (tm) goals that has changed my perspective on what is important. I visited with my brother for the first time in ages last weekend -- and I'll be moving in to his house next month... I've taken a backpacking course, and I've signed up for more outdoor courses... there are so many other things to do for 2 hours besides sit and watch a movie that's making billions of dollars in ticket and merchandise sales. They don't need my money...

On the other hand, maybe if I had someone special to go with, I wouldn't be so lackadaisical about it. ;-)

I'm lookin' for my missin' piece,
So Fleece my knees and grease my bees!

So there's a dilemma in my life... how to tell guys that are interested in me that I'm fresh out of a relationship and not ready for another one yet. I guess I just tell them up front so they don't feel like I'm leading them on, and never go anywhere on a one on one date. Group outings are safest. =) I'll stick to those -- except in special cases where I've known the guy forever and we're like brother/sister (and he's currently SEEING someone) Heheh. I'm just so suspicious these days!

Still... it would be nice to have a lover... ;-)

At any rate... time for sleep... maybe I'll have something more interesting or mind-altering to post at 6 in the morning.... yeah.. RIGHT!

I still feel pretty yicky but I came to work anyway. Ended up going to my bro's house after going for lunch with him and my mom. Seemed like a good idea to go to the place and see if I can stand living there! Looks like I can. 2 car carport (we'll make Graham park outside!!) ;-) My bedroom would be quite small, but it would be all mine. There is room for my computer, but not for my huge computer desk - at least I don't think so, we'll see. HUGE backyard that Rainy is already in love with, good sized living room with a wood-burning fireplace and a nice sized kitchen that looks out onto the backyard. There's a BBQ and a locking shed out back to store bikes etc. in. The funniest thing about the place is that it's absolutely 70s. Shag carpet. Brown doors and lavarock fireplace. Dim lighting. I'll probably buy my own light fixture/lamp for my room -- just to brighten it up!Maybe for the living room, too. We'll see.

Jacquie, the other roommate who is staying, seems like a cool girl. She likes gardening and plants - there is a veritable jungle in the living room, but as long as I don't have to maintain it - I'm happy. I can store my camping gear underneath my bed -- it'll be fun finding a place to dry it... but a few hooks in the carport should at least allow me to air it out if it comes home soaking wet. And I could probably set up my tent in the living room overnight if necessary. ;-) I'll be close to the mountains and the lakes and I'll be close to the Billy Miner pub. Hopefully some old friends still jam there every Sunday night, because I'd love to get back together with them.

Thanks Devon...

So the crush is gone, thankfully. I was beginning to worry that I was going back to being my old obsessive-self. Not so... not so.

The one thing that's bothering me today is living with my parents... how long did that take? Not even a month? I love them. I appreciate what they're doing for me. But they drive me MAD! I am not a person who changes the sheets on my bed every 7 days. I like to think I'm cleaner than that, and I do it every 2 weeks or so... I don't havea schedule for these things. My mom does.

The inane insipid ever-present elevator music and KennyG soprano sax is making me crazy.

The "Dad cooks breakfast on Saturdays and Sundays and you must eat when it's ready. It would be an insult to eat before then even though you're starving." attitude.

The moving of my sweater to the bannister that is on the way up to the room where I'm sleeping when it's been sitting on a chair for 10 minutes and I go look for it because I'm cold another 10 minutes later and it's not there.

My dad thinking he knows how to look after my dog better than I do... I can just see what it's going to be like if I ever have human children! Yeeg.

I'm bitter because I can't show them my tattoo. I'm just so put off by their attitudes any time they see a woman with a tattoo on TV "Oh, she's hard." To my mom a "hard woman" is someone who has mental problems, is a slut and a bitch and will never amount to anything. Problem is... I *have* amounted to something. I *like* who I am and I *do NOT* need her judging me unfairly for something that I have chosen to give myself and consider to be a wonderful gift. Yeah, I know life's unfair and all that. I just wish my Mom could be a bit more open minded about things and a bit more closed mouthed about the things she isn't open minded about! Very vocal, my mother.

In addition, I'm fighting some kind of illness that isn't all that horrendous, but my mom is telling me every few hours what I should be doing to take care of it, and feeling my forehead with her perfume-laden wrist. Meh. I don't generally like perfume. I don't like my mom's perfume. Sorry mom. It's stinky. Why the heck do you put perfume on when you're just toddling around the house, anyway?!

It's really not all that bad... at least that's what I keep telling myself... it's just all the little things that add up and make me bonkers. I know they love me and mean well... but it's still not easy.

Yeah.. I know... petty petty petty. I'm just down about not having my own space. Soon. Another month. *shudder*