And a plate of pommes frites is all I need...

All the way home, in the snow blowing down 279, my tires coated in snow, I had one thought. It was a negative one. How easily we get stuck on that broken record groove.

My dad has a huge record collection. I have never actually seen "My Fair Lady" all the way through, but my favorite part on my dad's record is the song "A Patient Man am I" because the record skips and the guy keeps singing "A patient man am I, A patient man am I," as if repeating it makes it so.

Which it doesn't. Repetition, I mean. The negative thought that I had on the way home may or may not be true. But whether or not it is, it needs not flood my mind as I drive home in the dark, snow billowing around.

I have been struggling with this blog lately. I got rid of the site meter (it was making me crazy!!) and/but now I have no clue how many people and which ones are reading unless they comment. (Or walk up to me at my library and tell me so...) (Thanks!!)

I have been struggling at how private/public to be. There are some things I'd rather share with people in person than via this blog...I don't want this to be a substitute for getting to know me, or that me reading other people's blogs becomes a substitute for getting to know them. Of course, blogging isn't all about becoming friends--that can backfire too.

I have to build boundaries around my life. I want to keep my life fresh, unmarred...and yet, I am broken. I am banged up. We all are, just some of us are more prone to admit it. Sometimes I can't keep it in--I will explode. And this year, with the loss of three close friends, I feel a void of people to share my life with. And yet, this week, I have had many chances on and off line, in person and by email, by cell and regular phone to connect--and I thank you all for that. When I called my mom tonight to let her know I got home safely, I said, it's sometimes so hard to focus on what's good when you have that one negative thought. Wisely, she didn't ask what the thought was, and wisely, I didn't blurt it out. We focused on the good. She told me about this new technology at her school--she was so excited about it (I smile as I write this--my mother is such an amazing person and though I will be glad when she retires, I am grateful that she loves teaching so much--she is so good at it.)

I don't know what else to say, except thanks, to a few people who have made this week worthwhile. I bet you know who you are. And please, let's keep in touch. It's a rough world out there.

I guess I'll also say this: if I'm not reaching out to you, it's because I'm protecting myself in the only way I know how. This blog is anonymous for many reasons, but one of them is that it protects the breathing, heart-beating person that lives in the third floor garret. Maybe you are protecting yourself the only way you know how to as well. Only time will tell.

And this too: tears (the kind you cry) and tears (the kind that's ripped) sometimes make us stronger. I am not afraid of mourning this loss, if it is one, but I am not against stitching up the brokenness, either.

And if you don't have a clue what I'm talking about, that's okay too. Sometimes I just want to be a mysterious woman...who needs to defrost her refrigerator.

In other news, I got a letter from Lorelei today. All is well in the world. (Even if it isn't.)