2003-01-19

Okay, the call for help thing. It was stupid. STUPID. I understand that now. I didn�t at the time. It was Friday, I�d just come from work and was going out. All that sweetness and light was grating on my nerves.

I did a lot of soul searching about the incident this weekend. Well, actually I did a lot of fantasizing about the lottery, a loft apartment, and the new Restoration Hardware catalog. But intermittently I thought about what I had done. My analyst would say I did it out of jealousy, that I was lacking that intimate contact in my life and thus I reacted in the way I did. Typical fashion, lashing out with humor to hide the pain or something. That�s why analysts make lots of money. They can turn everything around and remind one that they are the only person that understands them, the only healthy relationship that you have going. Even when it�s wrong, I like my analyst. She reads Louis Hay novels and refuses to believe that sometimes a stomach ache is just a stomach ache. But because I�ve just come from a pleasant evening where I drank too much, ate too much, and in general subjected my poor tired body to such gluttony as to be unwise, I�ll be honest. I did it for hits. Pure and simple. I wanted attention so I threw a faux tantrum. Well, not really a faux tantrum, I was annoyed by it all.

So, anyway, I�m going to put it behind me. I�ve apologized to all parties, and will be working on not being so childish in the future. Anyway, a-splinter gets pie during the final dinner. And so does Mare Ingenii because she is just lovely. And has a very nice design.

To summarize, apologizes to all, thanks to a-splinter, and everyone check out the lovely Mare.

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