I reallly need new contact lenses

All biofilms aside, I experience something near double-vision when I look at my computer screen with them on. But man, I’d rather spend the money on clothes or running gear or save it for FLORIDA!

Indeed, mom wants me to head down to Florida this summer for a week or so. I haven’t been there for nearly a decade, and these days the idea of orange marmalade on toast on the porch overlooking the dock, with all the humidity and jasmine. . . . very nice sounding indeed. As a bonus, Mom invited Andy as well, so the picture gets even dreamier. Ahhh.

Speakin’ of dreams: I dreamt that I befriended the daughter of Stephen King and had to spend inordinate amounts of time acting as little like a drooling fangirl as possible. In reality, I don’t think I would have behaved nearly so well. I completely understand the right the Kings have to privacy in their lives, but damn even a moderately sane person like myself (hah!) might apply to graduate school at University of Maine so that she might spot him randomly at a basketball game. . .

Last night I dreamt that I was hiding in the backseat of a car with a blanket over my head, and when I peeked out from under it someone shot me square in the forehead. I then spent the rest of the dream crying and lamenting all the life I’d miss out on, only to realize that everyone could still hear me, so even if I was dead I could still have a pretty good life.

Final thought: I bite my tongue a lot when I read Dave’s new postings. I wholly don’t follow the religious course he’s taking, but if it makes him happy and whole, then I’m glad for it. But I am tired of hearing, in cycles, about how our love wasn’t real. Maybe for him it wasn’t—hey, I’m not him and I can’t claim to know what he thinks, really. But it is insulting to one day be treated like a loved person, and the next be referred to as some sort of roadblock on the path to higher spirituality. I NEVER felt that way about it, but I can only speak for me, and what the past was like from my point of view.

Final, FINAL thought: No ther person can MAKE you happy. Treating people like utilities, maintenance workers, fates, or answers to your cosmic questions never works, and isn’t fair. I’ve seen more than one person here in Madison trying to find ways to make friends, to be social. Grad school is lonely business when you barely have time to shower or eat. Ok, so the only true piece of wisdom I have to share here isn’t mine. Back in California, my mother had a friend who had so many friends that one day my mom asked her how she did it. The friend replied “It’s easy: Ask people questions, and care about the answers.”

So here's my message: Treat people like people, and CARE about them. Love humanity. Love people. If you believe in a higher power, and it gets you to rejoice in yourself and others, then I'm all for it. If you believe in no higher power, and you rejoice in yourself and others, then I'm all for it. Find your own way to get there.