clear plastic containers

Bloomington is hot and my airconditioner is not working properly. In five weeks I'll finally see my boyfriend but in the meantime I will begin a new project with JM. I will kickstart this publication business I've been dead-fished with. I will start working out, too, since I've got that new personal-trainer. These things will keep me busy.

I will also be busied - and have been - by packing my life up again. More than just packing, though, I'm reorganizing. Like, I'm getting little organizers so that I can save myself trouble later. So instead of boxes, my life will look tidy in clear plastic containers.

But first I have to go through my life.

Yesterday I threw out a thistle my ex had bought for me. Thistles were our flower and I actually found the original one. It's gone now, because I'm situated with love again.

One thing I'd forgotten is that my first kiss back in college (go ahead and laugh, but tomboys didn't kiss in highschool; boys were icky for extra long to me)... but my first kiss was also my first "I love you". I'd completely forgotten we'd said that.

He ended up ruining Thanksgiving at my mother's house.

When I write that book it'll all come together finally. And all these pieces of paper will make sense. And I will make money.

For now it can stay in the clear plastic container.

I also found a lace bedspread I began making about six years ago. It's absolutely gorgeous with rose-centered hexagons surrounded by diamond shapes. I want to finish it. But I began it for me and the ex. Can I draw a line with things that have to remind me of him?

Like when I reclaimed St. Augustine for my memories instead of ours?

Like when I reclaimed REO Speedwagon? Oh, wait... nevermind.

The bedspread is hardly even started, so I believe if I begin stitching with my Michael in mind every new stitch will become imbedded with my loving thoughts for him.

It's true, though, when you look at a piece of needlework you remember the thoughts you were having while you laid them. This is not just me.

Last night My Michael was drunk. He'd just taken his second gross-anatomy exam so he got drunk for the second time this semester.

He said, "I take good care of you, right? That's because I'm your boyfriend! But if I were your husband, I would take even better care of you. And that would be forever."

Oh, and then there have been correspondences to that country where his daddy is working of him seeking manly advices about women.

Irish daddy, Italian mama, and he's a taurus. Fierce, loyal, family-oriented, passionate, stubborn, and greasy-haired.