I'm going to be breaking up soon with my therapist. I feel like she does not understand me at all after a year of our conversations. She told me that my main problem is that I "need" a relationship too much and this scares people away. Someone who knows me well would probably say that my intensity in a relationship can sometimes be off putting to certain people who prefer lightness. I've been solo for a long time and not afraid to be single. When I was seeing A. this summer, I never mentioned that I was looking for a relationship, nor did I act frighteningly serious about being together. I was going with the flow, letting whatever evolve into whatever it was meant to be, enjoying the time together, filling it with fun and laughter. When A. did what she did in the manner that she did it, I found her to be.. a jerk. Instead of offering consolation or framing the experience into a more positive and enlightening light, which is what I needed from a counseling session, my therapist said, "Do you want to know what I think your problem is?" I leaned forward in my chair to listen, disappointed in the end with her assessment of me. I don't think that A. stopped seeing me because of my "great need" for a relationship. I don't believe that that was it. Whatever happened to the belief that dating sometimes involves being with people who aren't a match? Is that not what dating is about? You discover more about yourself and other people. You discover that perhaps you are not suited for each other. I think A. is narrow minded and a bit of a jerk to people! There. I said it. And she is not the right woman for me. I belong with someone who is far more open minded, caring, and not afraid of new experiences. A. is so fixed in her ways that I believe we would have spent 50 percent of our time fighting. She was adorable and sexy and all that and I think that had she been more bending, it could have possibly been a romantic match. But... alas. It ended.

I'm taking my therapist's observation into account, but I've decided that this "therapy" is no longer that valuable to me anymore. I feel worse after my sessions. She made me feel like it's my fault that my relationships have not panned out- relationships are so complex and there are always two sides to every relationship. I'm an intense person who will find someone who likes my intensity and passion. E. loved my intensity. Why seek to alter who I am? I believe in embracing who you are. Eff that. If A. was indeed frightened that I was interested in a relationship with her, then I think she has some issues to deal with around intimacy. Therapy to me now is working with plants and cooking. Food is healing. Volunteering my time places is healing. Having my hair cut at a cool salon is healing. Creating art is healing. I would seek out a more holistic counselor in the future if I decide to have one again, a counselor who is more nurturing and empowering. She isn't a bad therapist. She is simply no longer what I need from counseling sessions.

I went to "The Big Gay Musical," part of the Austin Gay and Lesbian International Film Fest, with my gay boyfriend and his friend. I sat between them and munched on food at the Alamo Drafthouse. I had this gut wrenching inkling that I would see my ex-girlfriend, and minutes after that thought, I saw her coming into the theater. I almost fell out of my chair when I saw that she was wearing a dress. My soft butch ex was femmed out! She was in a darling retro black 1950s dress, one that I would love to wear. Her hair is longer and no longer dyed blond. It was surreal. I'm almost certain she spotted me because we were the few lesbians in the theater of gay men, and gay it was for the next 2 hours. My gay boyfriend commented on how the musical was "so very gay."

I'm supposed to be looking for work right now. I'm supposed to be going to a yoga class. I'm supposed to be in other places. Time to sign off.

Roommate is out of town for Labor Day weekend, and I have the house to myself with the two cats. I need to clean from top to bottom and wash the mountain of laundry. Boring details I won't bother you with. FALL is around the corner, even though it is still 98 degrees outside. I'm asking a friend (Liz?) to come over soon to advise me on planting a fall vegetable garden behind the house. There is already a sizable raised plot of soil near the drive way. I'm thinking about planting cucumbers, carrots, lettuce, spinach, pumpkins, squash, and eggplants. I'm set to get dirty. Yesterday was the last day of work at The Company, my last day of ever working for Corporate America in an office. I'm officially a FREELANCE WRITER, occasional ENGLISH TUTOR, and laying down the roots for a LANDSCAPE DESIGN business, which is what I would like to be doing mostly full time in the future. I'm scared, self-doubting, yet glowing with happiness about this major transition. I celebrated with sangria and a plate of French bread and cheese with D. at the East Side Show Room. Then I read my September horoscope, and now I'm more terrified. It said that my career sector is going to be tough until January when the planet Saturn, ruler of discipline, exits that part of my chart. I wanted to read that September marks a point of good fortune and that I will have smooth sailing from here on out. I should edit my horoscope...

the funeral was formal and long, beautiful and tragic, but good. on tuesday afternoon, i was at a funeral home in chicago with family for the wake. it was like a great family reunion. i was able to see aunts and uncles, great uncles and great aunts, second cousins, first cousins and their children. we have a large extended family. some of them had not seen me since i was fifteen. my grandmother's body was in an open casket at the altar. candles were burning beside her. rosary beads were woven through her fingers, the nails polished mauve by the embalmers. for as long as i knew my grandmother, she never polished her nails. her face was calm. she looked like she was napping and at moments i expected her to open her eyes. "surprise, dear. i'm not really dead." i remember her laugh, a warm and joking laugh. family convened in the room for 7 ridiculous hours, passing in and out of the lounge. there was no alcohol in sight. what irish-catholic wake has no alcohol? i had to wonder. two bus loads of old people - mostly women because we all know men tend to die before us - came to say farewell. i shook many old hands and looked into eyes of women who lived through the 1920s and world war II.

we created a montage of photos taken over her 80-some years, which people could look at to remind them of her life. my favorites were from her wedding day in 1948. she was gorgeous, young, thin, so happy getting married to my grandfather. her bride's maid and life long best friend, mrs. thomas, stood beside her. i would have never recognized the woman with white hair being escorted in by a young man as the mrs. thomas had we not been introduced. it was the mrs. thomas 50 years after the wedding photos. she had an oxygen tank and looked somewhat disoriented. i cannot imagine what that day must have been like for her.

my feet were killing me by the time we left the funeral home. now i understand the meaning of a "wake." you have to stay awake because it lasts so damn long. i was feeling emotionally exhausted from watching family break down in front of her casket. i felt like i had already mourned her loss. i had already said goodbye. her soul was not there. the following morning, we returned after breakfast to the funeral home for a ceremony given by a priest. i watched almost all the men fall apart emotionally, which i never expected, and my aunts and mother started breaking down as they had to say goodbye to her for the last time. we got into cars and followed the hearse to the church for an elaborate catholic mass and funeral ceremony. my grandmother had a full choir and everything. after that we drove in the funeral procession out to the gravesite chapel for yet another ceremony, then visited the actual gravesite. it was peaceful, and she would be buried beside my grandfather and his family. as we returned to the car, the gray sky began to rain, echoing the tristesse. we feasted at a nearby restaurant in a private dining hall where uncles and aunts told stories about my grandmother. i loved being surrounded by family and wished that we did not live so far apart. my grandmother was the one who brought us together and got me out of texas. rest in peace, grandma.

it seems like a travesty that i live in one of the most vibrant music cities on the planet and rarely do i partake in going out to see bands anymore. what happened? did i become immune to the abundance of sound? when i was in my early twenties, i used to go out to shows almost every week and perhaps i watched too many hipster boys in tight black pants with their electric guitars. i've decided to change that pattern around this fall and absorb as much music and sound as i am willing to afford. starting with a sister 7 reunion show this weekend and then the raveonettes. bon iver is coming in october.

my gay boyfriend is back in town from a summer spent in san francisco. he arrived today. we are already making plans to go out places together. his first words: a drink is in order! he is coming with me to the gay clubs on the weekends, and we could cross paths with linsday lo. who is in town filming a movie. if she wants to meet ladies, there are only several places to select from here.

i think i have relatively healed from the summer happenings with the last fling. we, as in my gay boyfriend and i, will no doubt be standing in the same club opposite her and her gay boyfriend next month. it is a shame that we could not have double dated...

tomorrow morning i am leaving for chicago. my grandmother died peacefully in her sleep on saturday morning before sun rise. the funeral is tomorrow. i will return on wednesday evening.

s-t-r-e-s-s

i got my hair cut at a salon downtown and walked out a changed lady. it is a 1920ish inverted bob. with bangs. photo coming soon. it is amazing how a hair cut can entirely alter your world view. my "hair therapist" washed my hair with apple cider vinegar, a natural treatment to remove build-up, leaving my hair clean and shiny. she then gave me a head and neck massage. it was the best experience. we talked about art and how she considers herself a sculptress. i've been working in the writing sector for some time. it has not panned out and now i'm changing. what am i going to do? i would like to tutor more students and design gardens. no more corporate america. the move to tutoring full time feels a little frightening, but i'm now forced into this position. i don't have much time.

as for chicago, there is no telling when we will be going up there now. my grandmother was moved into hospice yesterday. she is probably going to die before i'm set to visit her. i've been pretty upset, tearing up left and right at random moments. i have had to face that i will never see her again alive, and that conversation on her birthday was probably the last time. she might completely surprise us and be living next weekend. but my aunts who are with say otherwise. she is fading out of this world fast.

changes.

the universe is suddenly shaking up my world and forcing me into action.

the news came about my grandmother, my mother's mother, who lives in chicago. she was having stomach pains and after testing the doctor discovered it is because she has cancer, pancreatic cancer that has spread to most other organs in her body. we knew she was probably not going to be alive for that much longer, but facing her impending death is difficult to process. i called her on saturday to wish her a happy 87th birthday, knowing full well it will be her last birthday ever, the last time i can ever say "happy birthday, grandma." my other grandma died several years ago, also from cancer. i told her that i will coming to see her in two weeks, and that seemed to cheer her up a little. she is drugged on morphine and was in the hospital on sunday for a sudden blood clot in her leg. the doctor says she has a couple of months left to live, if even. death is closing in and there is little to do to stop it.

but she still has her mind and her wits about her. dying from pancreatic cancer, a quickly fatal cancer, is the best way to go, i think. she will not be losing her memory or battling a long debilitating illness. the doctors are making her as comfortable as possible in these last months. she has lived a long life, and not that many people die surrounded by children, grandchildren, and great grandchildren.

on the phone, she sounded sick but tried to crack some jokes. she began recounting the story about when i was younger and she would take me out for dessert. she used to split a rich chocolate dessert with me at this one restaurant, and when i turned four, i told her that she would have to order herself one because i could eat the whole brownie myself. from then on, she always had to order two desserts. "you always have had such a sweet tooth, dear..." she said over the phone. this is what my grandmother will remember about me. my sweet tooth.

at work i learned that the company is going to be cutting my position soon, but miraculously, i convinced the head of the dept. to allow me to stay on for some time until i can find a new position. he sat me down in his office and closed the door.

"you have this amazing energy," he said, staring straight into my soul. "you're a creative thinker and you belong in very creative work. from the moment i met you i sensed that there is something specific you are meant to do with your life. this is not it. when i hired you i knew that you simply needed a job, that you would not be sticking around for long. i can feel every day in your aura that you HATE being here, and i want to help you. tell me. what is it you really want to do?"

i felt like i was under an x-ray sitting across from him, like he was reading my inner thoughts. it is rare to find a manager who actually gives a damn. most managers would say "see ya and good luck." who really cares about people these days?

i sat in his office for the next hour listening and answering questions. he said that the worst event (such as losing your job) can actually be the best opportunity, and i completely agree. i just feel like most employers tune into the fact that i'm a creative person, despite my efforts to downplay that during interviews for less creative work, and i feel like this is always held against me. over and over. don't they want someone who is creative? i was not hired to be an editor for the university because the editor pointed out "i can tell you're creative and you belong in creative work." thanks, but that does not mean i'm not capable of doing the work.

so what next?

the bargain i made with my manager is that i will meet with him each week to fill him in and meanwhile i can continue working there. maybe this is precisely what i have needed to happen.

shopping therapy + lessons learned

apologies to friends reading that i have been a little m.i.a. i began tutoring the college student 15 hours a week in addition to the 45 hours at the company. working this much is not in my blood. today i'm devoting the afternoon to relaxation and shopping therapy. new beautiful clothes never hurt.

i must say that the dating world is harsh. a.x. and i had a talk finally. she ended it so to speak because she said she does not feel the same way. somewhat cruel words to the ear. but i appreciate having a dose of honesty after being confused and hurt about the whole situation. too often people cushion the truth with flowery language.

the best advice i heard from a friend is: "take it for what it was and move on."

life changes and shifts so quickly. like a kaleidoscope. sometimes two people are simply not meant to stay together for long.