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Sunday, March 31st, 2002
1:44 pm - It clicked one day...
Ya' know...

You don't have to fight so hard to hold on to someone you love when you finally just accept the fact that they love you back.

I can't believe it took me 30.5 years to figure that out.

current mood: thankful

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Friday, December 28th, 2001
2:02 pm - Yo.


Kyla made this journal private. Thanks for your interest. Drop her a line to learn about her public journal.


what this post originally said. )

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Wednesday, August 15th, 2001
6:46 pm - These are the saddest things I've ever seen...
well, *NSYNC-wise, at least.

From the San Antonio show, sans Joey :(


The truth remains... you're gone...

The rest are [here]

I'm so glad he's better.

[EDIT: This one I'm leaving unlocked. It's just so... ::sigh::]

Photo credit: www.lilspicy.com

current mood: thankful

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Friday, August 10th, 2001
10:24 am
"...and there's nothing left to do but watch cartoons."

"Cartoons?" I said.

"It's Saturday morning."


It was after seven when we went downstairs and sat on the bed, in the blue light, with the television on. Twice Ray got up to adjust the color/tint setting and each time he came back, it seemed he sat just an inch or two closer. but a little while later, at the end of Bugs Bunny, he turned to me and said: "You must be tired. Maybe I should go home and let you get some sleep."

And before I could turn to him and tell him that I wasn't tired, and that I didn't want him to go home, he took my hand. He didn't let go, and I didn't let go, and later, after he kissed me and told me that he'd wanted to do that from the first moment we'd met, I remembered what a small miracle it was to like someone and have them like you back.

from _Animal Husbandry_ by Laura Zigman

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Friday, June 8th, 2001
11:38 am - Quote for the day -
"Gentlemen: When you 'come down' to commonplace
or small-talk with an intelligent lady, one of two
things is the consequence: She either recognizes
the condescension and despises you, or else she
accepts it as the highest intellectual effort of
which you are capable, and rates you accordingly."

Mrs. E.B. Duffey, nineteenth-century commentator

High-falutin' words from someone who identifies herself as "Mrs. Husband's Name."

current mood: annoyed

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Saturday, June 2nd, 2001
5:52 pm - Three years ago today.
Three years ago today was a Tuesday.

I'd taken a vacation day from work, and I woke up early. I showered, shaved, styled my hair and dressed in a skirt. I rarely wear skirts, but this was my first time going to court, so I figured I needed to dress the responsible adult.

It was sunny, as June in the Midwest often is, and I was glad I'd worn my contacts so I could wear sunglasses to block the glare. I got in my Explorer, opened the gate to my parking lot, and started the drive.

Christina and I met halfway - she lived about 30 miles away in the other direction, so we'd agreed to meet at the Hardee's right over the bridge in Hannibal. We hugged, and she agreed to drive the rest of the way.

It was about a fifteen minute drive to the courthouse in New London. We parked, and walked upstairs to the courtroom. The lawyer, looking remarkably professional and not much at all like the fraternity brother collegian I'd known before, met me and escorted me to a small room off the main chamber. T. was there, too, of course, dressed in a suit and looking angry.

We reviewed the property settlement one last time, the lawyer pointing out that I had a month to return the Explorer to T., and two weeks to deal with our dog. I told them that I was taking the dog to her new home the following weekend. That was agreeable to T., and we signed the papers.

That was the last time I signed my married name.

The courtroom was high-ceilinged and whitewashed against the marble. I guess I expected something more out of the movies - intimate, dark - but it was a big, empty room. The benches looked like church pews - an irony that wasn't lost on me, as our wedding hadn't been in a church. The judge was huge, quiet and imposing without being forceful.

T.'s best friends were with him. The men who'd stood by his side at the beginng of our marriage were there again for him at the end. Brotherhood in action, I supposed. My family didn't show for the event - not that I'd asked them to - but I'd never been more grateful for Christina. One glance at my quivering lip and she took my hand, lacing my fingers in hers, not caring how it looked.

Our docket was called, and the lawyer swung into easy action, calling T. to testify. It had been my idea - I made sure that was represented in the decree - but he'd done the paperwork, so he was the petitioner. I, as the respondant, wasn't required to speak. The property settlement was given to the judge, and he declared our marriage 'irretrievably broken,' granted my request to return to my maiden name, and that was that.

We went back to the small room, Christina waiting outside with T.'s friends, and I signed my new old name, and T. signed his, and it was done. He left the room.

I found him before I left the courthouse, sitting in a windowsill crying. I asked him if he'd be okay. He said yes, but wouldn't meet my eyes. I didn't apologize. I wasn't sorry.

Christina and I walked back downstairs, and though I tried to hold my head high my shoulders straight, my lip wouldn't stop quivering. I lost it. We stood in the main corridor of the courthouse, and she held me as I cried. I still wasn't sorry... but I felt like I'd failed.

She stroked my hair and kissed my cheek, then held my hand as we walked to her car. We drove back to Hannibal, and she didn't take me back to my ... his ... Explorer. Instead, she swung over to Broadway, to Scovilles, and we had many drinks and a tenderloin.

I drove back to my apartment - boy, I shouldn't have been driving - and changed my clothes. I never wore that skirt again.

Three years ago today, I got my own life back.

current mood: contemplative

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Monday, May 14th, 2001
10:41 am - Quote for today:
"I've made enough money to support myself, and I ain't afraid of being alone." - Katharine Hepburn

current mood: defiant

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