C a r o l y n ' s D i a r y
|be warned: this is my diary... clb||page 28|
Sitting quietly. Thoughts rushing in from yesterday. Ever so many strange things wondering around. Little pressures of a business nature. I slowly turn against my will into a business geek. All the world rewards business geeks but I do not want rewards. I want causal efficacy.
Correlated but not identical, these two magical powers can take you places. These palces matter to the human soul. Using the wrong energy type to get to these places is as was obvious to them all a mistake. Using the right type is more difficult. Hold out carefuly. Advertise that the type is important. Speak of policy to others. Don't just Listen.
I transition away from harmful behaviour by reminding myself of this. And yet the balance is so delicate. Breath deeper again.
Richard and I have been snarling at each other for days. Quietly though. Both seem to want peace and harmony. We are both putting in more than we have, taking out less than we need. Mistake. Sacrifice self to no good end. Die feeling the accomlishment was worth it, and you have a chance. Die thinking you missed the big picture, and you are doomed. What am I missing?
Peter wades deeper into his mind and heart as he sees his enthusiasm clash with my directing. Enthusaism without design is a wild card. Good and bad.
Tracey is gone.
Hella returns this past weekend to TO, and she brings energy and enthusiasm. Her sabatical may be over. I look forward to her smile. Another wild card?
Others watch and contribute to FSC. To and with me, they are not so directly. Must I be the company? A definite no to this.
Patterns. I must think more realistically. No more description. Think.
Oh, I am in a hurry. The world alters its shape to inclue me in th efabric of causality. My voice is starting to be heard and I feel it may be time to begin saying important things. And I know it is not time yet. Not yet. Let's wait a while. Learn the classics. Learn to spell. Learn the conventions. Gumption only gets one to a point. All bark without a bite is not the way to go. Bite at least three times says the war counsellor, gently. He knows his stuff.
Deanne is not me. But people keep imagining her in a bathtub.
To run to a meeting now. I am naked, and within a few minutes will appropriate the garb of the meeting. This season with a brown tint. Who knew? My office furniture did.
Fleiss will be belled today. Too many jumping mice have jumped and squeaked to their deaths here. Too many.
I want to go home.
Not a day goes by in which I don't think a bit of who I am. I am trying to stay in touch with this even if I am not as much of a professional person as I once was. Being professional about who I am has always helped in making me the most I can be. It's really the cause. Luck does not sweep one off her feet and place her in front of success. Oh, I am sure it happens once in a while. Some poor souls do win the lottery or the talent contest without intending to. Can they do it again? That is the trick to being professional.
In science, repeating a process of experimentation or discovery is one of the test of the realness of the discovered phenomenon. Repeating the process without exception is a sign of causal relatedness. A professional person is able to repeat what they cause. Not under any circumstance of course, but under similar ones for sure. This is the opposite of luck.
Luck: Buying lottery tickets .. holding superstitions .. wishing something would happen .. wishing it wouldn't .. fantasizing .. excitment .. surprise .. gambling .. wanting something without effort or investment .. analysing other things in terms of happenstance .. These are the causes of bad luck
There is of course no such thing as good luck. What happens that is good and wonderful, fun and exciting is always the result of people doing things and setting things up. We live in a universe which is most comfortable with future entropy. Entropy is that state where everyting is finally out of energy and distributed homogeneously. (Or something like that. Fleiss would have to go an equally long distance in any direction to find a mouse, and then he never would anyway because mice are energy pockets.) Creating pockets of energy happened at the beginning of the universe, big bang, et. al. And although energetic events still happen on their own inthe universe at large, this is more because the energy is sorting itself out into averageness than it is luck. As far as I've heard, only living systems and big bangs put energy into denser clumps. Squirrels store nuts, and nuts are basically energy. Humans build sky scrapers. We air condition our houses - in summer anyway. We horde ourown body heat with due concern. There is no luck in any of this.
Profesional people are able to bring social and psychologicl energy under their control. With this extra energy posketed away, the person, me, can build things. I could build the buying of a ferrari. or I could build a battery for storing the energy longer term. Or.. I could an ddo build a generating station, using the energy investment to create more energy. as a person, I choose to be a generator. and as a generator I choose to build a much larger generator around me, a social one. And with that generator, I am building a societal scale generator, one that acquires, stores, and magnifies the energy acquired.
This is the value of the professional person. Only a professional person will not get burned out or absorbed by the bigger generators. As an energy store / source, a person can be easily absorbed. I don't personally feel this is ethical. I never let myself get so absorbed.
The ethicalness of the use of a person's energy is interesting. The options are again: accumulate as a battery would, lose as an icecube does in summer, maintain the status quo with equal inputs and outputs much like a heated and adequately insulated house, generate, and optionally invest. The last two have energy to share if they choose. Some people do and some don't.
Is it right to use another's energy excess if they don't know about it? If they do? If they agree to it? Is it wrong not to if it would benefit them in ways they would appreciate? I always hated ethics!
I've had enough of this. Who I am sucks. Whether it is getting a company through the long term - which only I bother to look at, or whether it is failing to meet anyone who doesn't simply want to sleep with or fight with me, my personness sucks. I am sick ofhte sort of environment that ends up round me. I watch the charismatic people. Who is nice to me ever? Lots tell myths about me and about my nature. Noone relly bothers to get inside who I am anymore. No one really ever did.
Alone angry hurt. I am so hurt I'll just cry. I almost did in the god-damned staff meeting today. Me talking about the long term, the future where everyone's dreams come true, and everyone else wondering about their paychecks. What the fuck. Minnows.
Its not about money. Only. Its about where you can walk and who wants to talk with you later on, whenyou are no longer young, beautiful, when you need to have nore to you than looks and sex.
I don't care if noone gets it. I'm going to be alone. I get it. That'swhat it is about. Pushing people out ofmy bed before they see how bored I will be with them. Is it only sex that makes the world go round? There's got to be more to it.
I want to feel happy. I don't want to get fucked around by people putting themselves first far beyond keeping me pleased with what they do. FUCK THE PRIMA DONAS.
Fuck everything. I don't even want to live much today. I wish tomorrow were here, a chance at another fresh morning. It isn't and now I will have to be me for so many more hours. Go away.
I'm not enjoying being psychotic. Am I? I can't tell but it feels likeit. I want things I can't have. They are impossible to have. And I don't care about what I do have. I'm just tired.
Richard just rang the bell here. I have no idea what his plan was. Its lik ehe just wanted things to be okay withoutany thought or concern for the issues. Shallow. He didn't ask me if I was okay. he just stood there. I didn't care to talk with him at all. His demandingness was irrelevant to what I wanted. He ignored what I wanted even as he said alright. He left.
And he'll be beack again .. high probability within the hour, but by tomorrow with all certainty.
Is life worth its own self? In most cases, I think not. Not for me either. I simply hate it.
Yeah. I talked with Peter just now. He talked with me. Tried to put a perspective on things I can't imagine being true. I can'timagine thati intimidate people or causetheir expectations to be too much for themselves. peter tells stortiethat are power and he is so astitute in knowing people. I have found him right except in matters of his own feedback loops in so many things. he is likely right now. Could it be true that me being me is too much for some? I find somepeople to be too much while I don't understand them. Mary is like that. She is so boisterous and confident. Self willed. I admire her, and..
.. this surprised her. It's been a tough few days.
What they see. What I feel. Famous philosophical dichotomy number one: the mind / body problem; behaviourism vs introspection. A combination, and yet stil the puzzle remains in daily life. Do they see what I see? Do they see what I intend to look like? Do they see at all? Clearer, what do they see? What.
I must call Richard. Talk a few minutes with him. make sure he is all right. This is when he takes advantage of me. Another prediction.
I've talked a lot to Peter, to Richard. We played pool with FSC last night after all the other stuff. Peter asked me to go. I was in such a horrible sad state, and whenwe got there I couldn't maintain a facade of anything good. I had to leave fairly quickly. Richard was so hurt and angry too. He couldn't see how much I needed him to smile at me.
But later, he called on me. We both gave in finally. I hope that unspoken warmth is sufficient, that a different langauge without problem solving tools in it is sufficient. I have so many thoughts that say this is not so. We'll see. I want him to be ever so happy. But I need to feel included and needed too. I hate this working thing. If not for ambition, I would not do it for anything ever. I had a long talk with Steve about this, whether to remain free or to gather in the big bucks from a big corp. I want to do both. :) Like usual. I wanted to be intelligent and beautiful. Most people sacrifice their chance at one or the other at universities. I got both. I want now to be financially fluid and to enjoy my life with out hard work. Let the beavers build!
So Richard and I will talk a bit today, but it will not address the heart of the matter, that of our differing world views. We will work within compromise space. It doesn't last long. Less than most types of agreement. I wish I could see past my own nose and travel in circles away from my own shyness. It is invisible to others anyway, so why don't I pretend its simply not there? Why don't I?
I know why. I'll learn to say no to most things so that I remain unoverwhelmed, and then I will have no more use for shyness. Currently it allows me sufficient privacy from theboring inventions of the mundanes. Let the mundanes here no's more often. They won't be surprised.
And now I will call Richard up and set a meeting up over breakfast. We will continue the meeting we didn't start yesterday, and travel through the forests of my mind and hte geometries of his. May all the cats purr more than I.
Why I am so sad.. Today is the infamous extra hour day, and I am going to specifically use it to think in.
It is said that a person is who they have been, and as well that we can be anything we want to be. I am sad a lot. Alright. It's as if the world will not smile at me unless I travel at a higher energy state. Like an activated electron at a higher orbital shell. It has mhore potential energy in falling but also more excitment while it's up there. Pushing that electron back down an orbital shell will release energy. However the atom will get along less easily with others. Pushing the electron higher again takes a lot of energy but once in that higher stable state, good things can happen. I know at least three energy equilibria in me. I'm in the middle one.
The midle energy state is by far better than the suicidal one of my childhood where everything is hopeless. I endure life in that state as some sort of unneccessary and prolonged torture. It's only the knowledge that there are other states that keeps me from killing myself. As a child I didn't have this knowledge. But I imagined its possibility and I gave reality a chance to cooperate in its creation. I lucked out majorly.
Now after I have even lived int he higher state a few times stably, I know it gets even better. But I am already so pleased with this middle state that perhaps I don't pursue the higher with as much energy and vigor as I could! Laziness and satisfaction go hand in hand.
I am who I have been, three different metaphysical sources. I see the worse and the better, and feel the risk travelling upwards is low, and the risk of slipping downwards is low too. Shall I not then make the effort to become steady more permanently at the higher level? I should think I will. I should think that. Why am I not...
I suspect other people have some investment in knowing who I am now. This is a common problem. Changing oneslef even for the better requires fighting and coercing the environemnt to treat you differently. I guess I should do this too. I feel Richard gets angry at me when I do this. He feels left behind. I know I don't want to let him feel left behind. I also don't lik eht emisery loves company routine. It's up to him to make his own orbitals. He doesn't have this higher one. he says he does, and I know he can pop up there, but I haven't seen any evidence of stability.
Why am I sad? Overall it pays well. Still overall being happier with a steady feeling of well-being is important.
Part of the problem is really that I differ in what I consider being happy from most of my friends. I have my own sense of well-being inside that relies heavily on mental clarity and celar thinking. This reduces the time during which I can have quick and socially adept reactions. I'm in a life right now that utilizes these things well. So a conflict arises. As well, I fail to appreciate the animal happinesses that so many people pursue and benefit from. Sex and comfort, warmth and good food, social fluidity and financial soundness all create this feeling of comfortable satisfaction. This feeling, this sensation, bugs the shit out of me. It makes me feel lazy and undesirable. I like the edgy feelings of the outcast a lot. I am still what is typically known as damaged goods I guess. But I like the feelings I have. Even the sadness is welcome. I understand it, and I learn from it inside.
So what should I do?!!! I'd like the higher orbital better than this one. Sometimes I have a little of the energy required to get to it. It's time to put that energy in the battery cells and accumulate it all for personal uplifting. Time to stop using it for other things - professional personness should thrive for a while.
Allow the people who do not travel those higher orbits easily to stay at lower orbits with dignity. That's a hard one. No conversion. part of the trick of switching levels is to switch one's world view. metaphysical boot-strapping! TIme for the faith generators to plug into the filled batteries, and get a big boost of capacity. Time for the higher metaphysical view to trip in and use that capacity while it's there. Time to travel higher and happilier. Even time perhaps to use that change to design and test the forth orbital. It ust be there!!!!
And that's the answer. I must quet for the forth orbital metaphysics. :) I'm actually smiling. Inside.
Now to get some more firewood and warm the cats up.
Quite suddenly my mind reaches a little bit higher, this towards my desire of a higher orbital. Linger there.
I'm making this up, learning and writing as I learn. My mind did not come with a user's manual, even a badly written engineer's idea of how to. Minds are discovered and invented. Mental trailblazing is required. And who but your own self can follow on that trail again later. Frontier for one.
I grow weary from seeing the clash of metaphysics. It is becoming perceptible in abstract to me. Where once I could not see a single stereo type as I was blinded by the individuality of each person, now I can see Hegelian armies neatly sifting through the cannon fodder for their own brethren. But let go, I think. Be your own self. And I see that this is not the way for this planet. Our person population must with lubrication for our personal desires exist co-inhabite a small planet. So easy it is to share ideals incooperation. Even ideals of individualism come together with a little coordination. Autonomy lingers in the background, in what Craig thinks of as the hindbrain. Fools. Letting in the thoughts can be sufficiently satisfying if the thinking mechanism has been trained to be creative and disiplined, just as any schoolboy can learn table manners and sculpture.
Linger here a little longer. Doing and thinking both. Dead white males do not have the market cornered on metaphysical conquest. Isn't it a shame that the analogy stays with the battlefield, and never grows up like any schoolboy can. As long as might makes right, and so it must as long as the ideals cannot be spoken clearly, I shall collect my chess pieces carefully. From underneath and overhead.
All I write is gibberish really. How can I express what I feel with words alone? Plays on syntax? Humans are the medium of thought, not words. They share the medium with us so that we can hope communicatory success is possible, even the norm. I don't think it is. With this one assumption I tear up possible successes making them difficult and even desparing.
And yet we do think that we communicate. Something happens. We come away with the thought that we understood that other person's thoughts. Ha. A religion of faith in communication. I am the devil, the spirits of the forest, denying the false priests their illusions. And I am the anarchist. Civilization crumbles without this religion of sharing thought.
Babble gibberish inchoherently. Telling stories and speaking facts as if, as if, there were a single interpretation. How arrogant to think this about one's own words. The multitude of interpretations are a complex of meaning of much more interest than is commonly known. We thnk there might be conspiracies. There are conspiracies. They are sitting in these complexes for all to see. Interpret exactly what you will. And yes, deny the context if you think you can. The intended single interpretation of hte speaker - the context - does exist, and we must sort through this cloud of meaning droplets to find the true seed of dust, the intended meaning. And I ask, how often do we succeed at this?
I am that force which denies this model. I speak in multiple interpretations, a multitude of meanings and intentions in my speech, even now as I write. The force of this is powerful and delicate ambiguity. Directed meanings to different goals and people. Within the veil of the priests' prophecies I speak of them to their faces. and they do not hear.
The assumption that communication works is empowered further when it is given more chance to work, when I sit back and try to determine which strand each listener takes as the meaning. I learn of each person in this way, and of what they would more like to know and hear. Speaking in woven tongues. Designing many interleaved causes at one time to bring the future closer to my own vision. Communication as warning system, as tool for sharing information, as causal implementer. OnLy the last is of interest really.
As a scientist I might disagree,a nd grumble about the confusion of explaining hte nature of things in more thanone way, even where consistent or mutually independent and equally powerful. As a creator though language and communicaton reach beyond the understanding, they come from within the understood and extend out to build the possible. Informed by the thin knowings of our epistemological support structures, we create the future. It should not be thin.
Like hypertext creating the Internet information nexus, communication as a tool should interweave our creations beyond the scientists' imagination.
Two black cats on Hallowe'en. Nothing to wear. What is a business strategy anyway? Wet towels and fur, we sit in an open window wondering if today it will snow. Sunrise it looks like a sunny windy day the kind children play in the leaves on. An empty soul. I try to think beyond th is once again. And endless pursuit of the higher orbital.
Pull apart the pieces of life to find goals and beliefs, pushings of desire, a retreat into a splinter of the universe. A person .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. can superstition be so important?
We need a baselineof familiarity to feel we know where we are and waht is going on. As all scinece fiction writers would have us experience, imagine that everything were to change at once. Every detail that you can notice and consider changes. Even those you've never noticed. Complete slippage away from reality. Science fiction people always add in a plot and some dippy male character who tries to make things right. Yawn. I prefer to imagine me there. What wouLd I do!
Files or trees, one by one things fall. Even me. It's funny how my mood is just not buoyant right now. I'll have to heave and tug to get it up and out of dismal suffering and petty worry. Richard was stacking firewood here for a dinner tonight. We've invited several people over for a potluck festivity, and I am now anxious or bored. I haven't decided which this sort of thing should breed. Bored means I won't vacuum, which I should. Anxious means I'll be a conversational drag. The old secret is to be anxious and then bored. The cool way to be. Am I not that cool? Not in the least.
And I type right on to the server without a lag in the process. Can I be this introspective? I think some motion will help, spending an hour getting things ready, and then I'll relax and feel that boredom onset.
I'm crying again. Move.
So I'm sad inside. It seems wrong to do things like this. To me it hurts. I am not balanced inside I guess if I need to feel loved and warmed by other people most of the time and I don't reach out easily or meet their needs either. Alone. and cold
Why is it so hard to be a person. Do what you want. only what you want. I think I forgot this mantra. Do what I want - only what I want and not what I don't want. I already know what I want is generally good for many besides me. Where does this stupid idea that I should do other things come from? Where..
look further inside.
hesitate, and doubt the thoughts that have been spinning cobwebs in my sharp mind. hesitate again. that book I read this morning was dismal, depressing. Reading a dead author's thoguhts on his own dead friends and how ironic and terrible their deaths were to him. He captured something horrific. My own worst fear was and is still of dying without knowing about it. The vacant death makes the life before seem absent. I want awareness during death. I promised myself once a long time ago now that I would commit to life only because no matter what I would die. I didn't have to do it right then because I could be patient. God. This was the death of my curiousity. I've wondered how I did it. My fear of death holds all curiousity in its teeth tightly bound and wriggling.
No curiousity until the moment of death when my true question swill be answered. Then and only then. So I am bored in this life... but I did commit to having it. I should live it fully and with curiousity too. SHould I? Curiousity weakens people. It is an indulgence leading to an off balance pursuit of that which will get to you anyway. Won't it? Are there somethings that can only be learned because one is curious about them? Spy secrets? Secrets in one's own heart? Oh dear.
I truly love an dhate these moments of complete doubt of who I should be. The excitment of metaphysical turmoil. The ramifications of this alteration, that of becoming once again curious, may exhaust my current personality configuration committment. Who shall I be!! With curiousity I may be truth functional once again, or a soul searcher, or a wanderer. Hmmm. And what would I be curious about.
It happened... a curious thought: what will I be curious about indeed. Curiuosity itself.
healing a little. Less lonely with thoughts of interestingness in my mind now. Philip K. Dick banished to the grave.
It's 8. party dinner time. And god I am so fucking nervous. Psychotic. But I look good. foolishly so. I shouldput shomething boring and sexless on. Am I good looking? Attractive? Hmmm. I scanned some photos of me - with my eyeballs - this morning during the great tidying up. Pictures from first year, from high school. Wow. I didn't get it them. Do I now either? It's time that I should. Fine. I'll try. Yes. Themirror lies because it is reactie, but old photos cannot adjust. They stare one inteh face and say what they say. And yes, back then I was tall and slim and smiley. I think that even though I feel miserable and sad a lot, there are more times - more than most people have or display at least - that I am excited to be alive than I am aware of. A waitress was surprised the other day when I said I was really sad and angry. I told her I didn't want to take it out on her. She looked so surprised. She toldme that I always seemed to incredibly happy. Wow. Perspective. A moment of insight. Like the old photos.
Everyone's gone. Lots of talk and fun. Air hockey championships. Left over delicious food. Me? I'm tired, a little wondering how this whole social dynamic thing works. Still. Sleep.
get dressed. do the how things required of a person minimally. these should be easy and regular if nothing else is. membership in society requires such basic decencies. even single bachelors do this. people arrive. shit.
OK. basics done. yawn. I'm pissed at Peter. His jostling about alpha-maleness drives me to anger. He tries to pump up all the egos with his stories, especially mine. I don't want it. I like the real picture, even a modest version of it. He seems to see any leadership as something to talk about posture at treat as bothersome. His deal not mine. I think I'll stay out of this dialogue for a while. Let him settle for himself about how to deal with people who have some sway in the world. After all, it is their own doing and if he wants a different world than they are creating, it is up to him to muster the causal influences. Grumbling is uninteresting. Bitterness. I don't know why he chooses bitterness so easily. But I ain't goin' with him.
Talk up a storm front for yourself.
The snow melts a little.
About Babylon 5, a tv show. The powerful feelings each character feels caught in the middle of such events. How I wish that was my life.
How some people have something to say and others have things to do. I try to be more foregiving now I hope. People who meet me decide to be who they are after a while. It is a pleasure to finally meet them, commitment to their own self in hand. I think I am finally meeting Richard, and Tracey. The challenge of knowing me apparently takes longer than I expected.. 5-6 years and not the 2 I thought. But I confuse myself. I've thought it takes 2 years for me to know anohter. That has not changed. It takes 5 years though for me to know they are not me, and to broadcast loudly something I am less interested in than my own puzzles. Good to know either way though.
Knowing people is still the most exciting thing I've found. I have to hold back letting who I am out though. What would happen if I didn't? I think I would be very alone. Imagine questioning others' bottom beliefs too closely. There isnothing more admirable than a person who has created a balance that works. Tipping such on purpose is not so very wonderful.
Off to the FSC Building now. Our logo sign went up yesterday, and it's gorgeous.
Look, I can't see any closer or more accurately. I want to though. Let me in.
The trees look a little tired today. Great boughs reaching up towards sunlight beams. Fog whispering lower down emptying the pathways. I'm a little scared to wonder about the future today. [Richard is an asshole. I need to say that loudly.] What is my very own desire here? I want to feel balanced and ok, but alive at the same time. I want the oppostie of the cuch potato life, excitment and contact. The trees whistle as they hear, gently disapproving of my frenzy.
To sit atop the wave's peak steering and guiding. Material objects should not exist except as information and energy are beautiful. Focus wave of purpose and future sight. Not as a pinpoint but as a broad expanse a wash of soothing change. Offering hope and freedom to those who want only the first and in little doses.
The tree closest to me knows this creaking out a new mantra. I can barely hear.
Losing information [I'm too hungry to sit still just yet] is evil.
medium sized is awkward. Confused for bigger or smaller a lot. Agassi wisely pointed out once that we plan for the long term, and we plan in the short run. We exclude the medium. If the long run is your life then the medium is 3-50 years from now. If the long run is 200 years then the medium is our own life span. We have to make ourselves happy while doing also the the rest of goodness too.
Medium is the hard one because you cannot be absolute in the strategy. You get neither immediate returns on your efforts nor freedom from fine-tuning and adjusting from feedback along the way. So it is the easiest to cast out as too costly to deal with. And yet without the payoffs in the medium, you will get burned out or unsatisfied with the bigger picture, the longer run. The rewards for living -- of course they are self-generated -- must be in place or living is tedious at best.
This general structure fits almost every life, and every situation. Martyrs and masochists need not apply. Succinct.
I ought to run off to the next slice of life day at the FSC Building. Fired someone yesterday. Wasn't willing to invest in FSC the way that he/she was invested in by FSC. It hurt. Wasn't much of a firing given this really. Without an investment of any sort that person had no reason to do other than leave when any discomfort arose.
Fascinating. I learn more and more about the current nature of the business world. It astounds me that it has been set up in this way. People thrive internally so much when they are doing what they belive is important and is their strength to contribute. And yet the business assumptions that arrive on my doorstep as I hire people differ from this so often. I've seen studies in which it was demonstrated that volunteers are happier and more productive than the same people getting paid for the same things.
Intrinsic rewards make people feel marvelous. Money doesn't seem to add to this - it contracts. Why can't we set up a combination of intrinsic and extrinsic rewards so that each person can live well both ways? I know there is a struggle about this. I want to find the answer. I'll wokr on it.
Mine - my reward in this - is the article in Macleans this coming Monday. I so much enjoyed the photo session we did yesterday. And Richard popping up in a feature in the Globe and Mail on Tuesday, picture and all. This is fun. This is an indication of causal efficacy. the beginnings of being known enough to do things effectively, and to being heard about policies. The beginning has begun. :)
Sweet sounds of laughter do not penetrate my house from the street. A garbage truck rumbles by, but it is Saturday and will not stop. The Shipping News sits knotted on my bed with one untold story left, the last one. Coffee steaming, I ran out of granoLa. Cats of blackness tch the squirrels in the cool November air. Steam with an aroma of satisfaction. And my stomach growls with only sun flower seeds in the bowl. I wil see Ransom this evening, and write about meeting Rick Smolan . I'll watch the newstands, think about the expanding business we ride like a beautiful wild horse, and
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All non-daughter writings of Carolyn's Diary are not copyright © Carolyn L Burke, 1996, and may not be copied without permission except for non-commercial gain. See what your lawyers can't make of that.