Radiogurl a la Carte

Saturday, Aug. 27, 2005
Secret Agent Woman

I know something you don't.

My topic du jour today is secrets. This journal contains a lot about me, and a lot about my family and friends. It's not an attempt to entertain, nor was it originally intended to make friends. It was and is a place to vent my frustrations, express my hopes and fears, explore and analyze the cobwebs, nooks and crannies of my own psyche. That's my story and I'm sticking to it.

An online diary is, by its very nature, narcissistic. The indomitable dangerspouse brought me here to Diaryland, drawing me in from another site when he told me about his early entries. I know a few secrets about him, too, but one thing about me: I have a great deal of respect for privacy. Even when it's the privacy of the world's greatest verbal exhibitionist.

I know lots of secrets, in fact. I just don't tell.

Usually.

The funny thing is, once I was here, I discovered that even in the relatively egocentric format of a journal, there's a sphere of influence and the ability to meet other funny, generous, intelligent, thoughtful, challenging, and occasionally sweetly perverse souls.

I am constantly surprised at the people who find this little exercise in lunacy of mine, particularly since I am a cheapskate and never buy banners for my site. Okay, it's partly because I'm cheap, and partly because to be honest, I like the relative anonymity of a limited readership. As aforementioned, I've posted a lot about myself and my family... and now about looking for love, one fumbling, irrational, lurching panic attack at a time.

I am more than fine with the wonderful friends who read here, don't get me wrong. I consider it an awesome privilege to have met (virtually speaking) and befriended those of you who read and comment to me. I've talked to a few of you on the phone, on instant messenger, and on email. I am hoping to meet a few in person over the course of the next few months, and would love to meet most or all of you eventually. One lady from Diaryland is tentatively scheduled to come on the radio with me sometime early next year, if her schedule will permit.

Originally this diary was itself going to be a secret. I just wanted to play with some semi-creative writing, harkening back to my first few entries. They were in fact references to things that happened in my real life, as has been everything I've written herein. But where early in the picture my plan was only to hone my literary skills, somewhere things took a turn and this became a sort of virtual companion, a touchstone that let me converse with myself (and later, with friends) and in the process, work my way through some pervasive and long-term phobias and misdirections.

The best part about this, though, is the fact that while I'm here pounding out my frustrations and foibles and pathetically sick humor, so are a whole bunch of other fascinating people. And I get to read all about you. My voyeuristic appetites are slaked daily. I have also discovered the power of a network of friends, as that's how most of my readers found me. Friends with established diaries posted references to my drivel (sorry for stealing your catchphrase, Art, hehehe!) and their readers came to read what I had written. And some stuck around.

Now, about those things I know that you don't know.

As I've mentioned before in this Diary, while I obviously do post a lot of personal information here, it doesn't mean I'm posting everything. I tend, in fact, to leave out plenty. There are details that I hold close to my heart, deep hurts that I can't tell anyone (sometimes not even myself,) anything proprietary with regard to work, and anything told me in confidence.

I do take secrets seriously, you see.

I haven't reserved a lot of information about me personally. You have seen the real me, warts and all, strewn across the page and across nearly two years now. The one glaring exception has been anything that's a safety issue - like my last name, specifics of where I live, etc. You'll also notice that on the rare occasions I've posted photos taken from my home, they are either indoors or they don't show what the outside of my house looks like. Again, safety issues. Still, I recognize that anyone who really wanted to track me down could almost certainly do so from the information contained in this long and winding series of soliloquies.

Needless to say, there are plenty of details associated with T that I haven't put on display here. I've spoken, off of this venue, to a very limited few of you here who have offered advice (much welcomed, given that - as I've oft repeated - I'm so completely out of touch at the dating game it's not funny) and support. Only a couple know anything near the whole story there. But again, when it comes to someone else, I respect their privacy. And with regard to T, there are about a thousand more reasons to watch what I say. There have been times - like now, for example - that there are things I would love to post here. But there is a time and a place and this fits neither of those criteria. Yet. There are things I wouldn't post without express permission, for a whole multitude of reasons. Is it self-censorship? Of course. But as I already mentioned, I've always practiced a degree of self-censorship. In this case it's meant as a protective measure. And I hope eventually to have a few more freedoms to post about T, though there will always be things I keep to myself.

Back to my original sentence. This morning I read one of my DL buddies' diaries and laughed out loud. I'm rootin' for ya.

Now, I return you to your regularly-scheduled diary.

After I got off work yesterday I drove to Globe to 00's house to take her some boxes. I was going to help her pack, but as she pointed out, she's a neat freak and everything she owns was already folded and wouldn't take long to pack. Her brother (Youngest Son) has a pickup and will help move a lot of her things; I'll make another trip Sunday, and I have a local friend who volunteered to convey at least one good-sized load Sunday. Between us, we'll get the job done. I am just freaking out over the money situation, but I'll survive somehow.

I took 00 to Taco Hell for dinner. Yeah, it meant spending money but at least the kid ate. She lost 10 lbs last week alone, simply because she couldn't get anything down. And tiny as she already was, that's a heck of a lot for her to lose, particularly to lose so fast.

After all of that I headed back home. And got about 2/3 of the way when I realized I'd left my cell phone at 00's place. UGH. I considered leaving it there until tomorrow, but since I'm responsible for the radio station, and station personnel have this number, I had to turn around and go back to pick it up. The whole drive, I was seeing dollar symbols flash before my eyes, swirling into oblivion. Gas prices are horrible these days and even with my little 4-cylinder engine it was an extra $20 for the turnaround and retrieval.

It is doubly frustrating because I'd planned to buy another card for my old pre-paid cell, the one I had bought to fill the gap when I moved. I am going to give the phone to 00 so she has some means of contacting me if there's a problem. (Okay, if there's another problem.) It's got about 80 minutes left on it, if I remember right. But if I don't buy another card for it, those expire at the end of the month - which is only a few days from now. And I just used the $20 I'd intended for the card to put gas in my truck. Gahhhh!!

It's 7:37am and I woke up this morning at 5. Though "woke up" is a relative term in this context. Think I'm going back to bed for a little while and try to catch up on long-delayed sleep. The weekend ain't over yet.

Before - After

In the grander scheme of things, no soul can truly be replaced. Each one of us has a place in the universal tapestry. We each contribute our own color and texture. When one thread is snipped too soon, it distorts all the threads around it. Other lives can unravel and tear. If the wrong thread is ripped away, the whole fabric of life becomes dangerously fragile.
- LeiLani, aka Radiogurl aka Bright Opal (1957 - )