I am no longer without a place to live; in lieu of rent I get to do edible landscaping and gardening so also the problem of where to garden is taken care of! Work at the blueberry farm starts in a week or two.

The downside is that I have to find a home for my dog...ideally I'd like to have the option of gettign him back someday or at least getting to see him now and then. This is heartbreaking...he's the best dog I've ever had....but I have to have a place to live and without that I can't see my children to speak of. :-(

It has been said that sex is important and vital to men because it is often their primary source of physical touch and affection, that they need sex in order to feel loved....whereas for many women, romance and non-sexual affection is either a prerequisite for sex or even a very acceptable stopping point....which leads to conflict.

Perhaps it's a sensory issue, but I'd have to side with the men on this one. If romance and tame affection were all I got in a relationship, I'd begin to feel teased, tormented and frustrated in fairly short order. Within 2-3 days we'd be seeing meltdowns and real panic. It's been a problem at times, because as with everything else, selectivity is high. I need to be touched and handled, yet am unreasonably fussy about who and how.

In the course of pleasant daydreaming a few days ago, i realized that it's not solely about sex; it's a need for touch. I could probably be OK, truly OK as opposed to just coping/hanging in there, if instead of a daily romp, there were a massage instead....now and then. It does seem however, that a nice massage, whether given or received, would have a way of revving up ones appetite.....hey, it would be good one way and even better the other, right? :-p

Depressed. At times it feels as if the entire purpose of my life is to lose that which is most loved.

Ha ha... I am making trouble...in a mostly benign way of course....with a neurodiversity display at the library. I am so sick and fucking tired of the idea that we'd be better off dead, need to be cured in order to live a worthwhile life, can only acheieve success by living a life of falsehood (masquerading as neurotypicals), are either retarded or are not truly autistic (because, dontcha know, MR and autism are almost synonymous! Ugh!) etc. And when I hear these views voiced by humans who present themseleves as sentient, educated folks who should know better and who pretend to know what they're talking about....in a library , something has to be done about it.

It's been an interesting weekend. Better, I finally went to my meeting and told them about the fire, and am making headway on this problem/issue. The simple truth is that I hate to ask for help and I hate to get it, even when I need it rather desperately. I mean, I am thankful for help, but having to be the one getting it...oh never mind...there is just no way to say this without sounding like an ingrate, which I am not. :-/

Had yet another holocaust dream. I've had these dreams (nightmares) since I was a child, long before I ever heard about World War II. This time, I was one of three adopted children. Our parents loved us. I was wanted, I fit in, I was part of a family. These are feelings I have not known in my waking life. The sense of security was solid, real. But then..... Our father was a Nazi, and he was of a higher rank than some others...who were executing other children...children like us, except they hadn't been adopted. I was so conflicted and upset and afraid that we weren't safe that I was running away. At all times, my family was kind to me, I was loved...but seeing the blood of the other children spattered all over the other soldiers, the ones my father commanded, had filled me with such doom and fear that I felt compelled to flee. I couldn't understand how he could be so casual about these other children and have such a blind spot for the very same sort of children under his own roof.

Someday, I will belong.

My house has been out of commission for two weeks now and I have have no clarity on where to go from here.

• I could go back to it the way it is now, without an operational wood stove, and tough it out. The main problems here are that I'd have to buy propane or eat cold food and forgo tea,coffee and warm water. Also being able to get there. Possible modeling job coming up would solve these problems...short term.
• I could rally the forces around me (as if, haha..) and get the place fixed.....maybe. It could still get foreclosed on in May, no guarantees yet.
• I could do.......something????
• One thing is clear: I have to find work, and soon...

Why am I ever cursed with not belonging, regardless of where I go and what I do? Honestly, I don't care about money....I just want to belong, to love and feel safe, to create and grow, to nurture and think....to be held. Why has life got to be so complicated, why are these simple goals and pleasures so elusive?

The earth....I yearn for her...to bury my hands in her warmth, to feed her, to cover her with flowers and fragrant herbs...to taste her sweetness.

And as usual, this is a love I cannot have.

Not my style of music at all, but, predictably, I got suckered into the emotionality of this. Kids, peers, people in general can be so mean. To see this kid get the recognition he deserved really made me smile.

Digging up bones, to quote the song (confession: I used to love country music...twenty years ago).

What if I had failed to consider a possibility, one which, oddly enough, went unexplored all this time? What if the other half of the equation was less disparate than previously thought? Birds of a feather flock together, except when being a bird is a distinct disadvantage....in which case the bird might masquerade as something else....and occasionally experience conflict regarding encounters with other birds.

I figured out this morning why rejection hurts so much, why it cuts so deeply, why the aversion to it is so ingrained in us. It's because rejection is deadly. Humans are social animals, even the most solitary of us. In a very real sense, rejection = death. Think about it....

Sometimes I really hate myself for always being the one who's begging for acceptance. For being the one whose life has been spent in futile pursuit of quietly hoping to be good enough.

And....just became a Glenn Gould fan. Not only does he play Bach with the combo of precision, clarity and passion that I require in order to be satisfied, the guy is obviously on the autism spectrum. :-)

There was a fire at my house. I noticed it right away, called the fire dept right away, and we got it put out fairly quickly, considering that we used only about 5 gallons of water + fire extinguishers to put out a fire in the eaves....but there is now a big hole in the roof and the place is no longer habitable.

I dreamt that things were better, that I wasn't anathema, wasn't poisonous, wasn't mute. That everything made sense- the puzzle pieces of life came into order and suddenly the picture was so different than I'd thought.

I don't know....

Just recovered seeds from the winter squash varieties I used to have! The seeds are over ten years old, but some of them should germinate. Among these are strains I was breeding, including my Idaho Star squash. The flavor of that squash was so much better than anything I've been able to buy in the store....like roasted sweet potatoes. I had thought that the Idaho Star squash was irreperably lost; now there is hope and I'm incredibly happy about that. :-)

The only thing is, I have to find a place to grow them out at now, and that place has to be A: conducive to winter squash growth and B: stable, meaning that it isn't going to drop out from under me after planting the seeds but before they're ready and C: readily and easily accessible, because I'll need to be hand pollinating throughout the summer in order to keep the seed true (otherwise there's no point in growing it out at all).

So good it almost makes the day better.

There is no justice in this world. Everything depends on money. People/corporations with power and the cash to back it up get away with whatever they damned well please. It's so wrong. I feel so small, so impotent in the face of all the wrong things that happen, all the injustice.

Life is not fair. But the question I have for you today, dear readers, is this: Where did humankind come up with the concept of justice or fairness, since it's an ideal that's never actually existed in full? One doesn't have to observe nature for very long to conclude that it's not fair, either, so it didn't come from there.

Are juatice and fairness natural, sustainable ideals and goals to have? Why does injustice possess us with such indignation and rage, when it's much more the status quo than not?

I hurt.----->That makes me afraid.---->Being afraid causes me to yearn for reassurance and safety without being able to ask for those things.----->That hurts more.-----> The fear builds....

And I should take the anti-anxiety med, but then I shouldn't drive, and there are things which have to get done today that require driving. What I really want to do is to go help my sheep shearer friend for a day or two, but yesterday was the last of the modeling for a few weeks....so unless I can scare up more work, have to be very, very frugal with gas.