[Morning freewrite]
Last night I made some whole wheat sundried tomato bread in the bread
machine.  Bread machines make bread making much less time consuming.  POur
things in.  Three hours later the thing is done.  But it didn't turn out as
well as I wanted.  Need more tomatos.  And I forgot to add olives and
garlic.  I want to see if garlic should be put in whole and raw or cut up.
I think it has to be chunky so it's a distinct entity in the bread, but I
don't know if the garlic will cook enough in the bread....

I am waiting for something.  Have you read Impossible Vacation by Spalding
Grey?  Like the narrator in that book, I don't know what  I want or where
I'm going.  For him, one day he wakes up and realizes where his life has
come from and where his life should go.  Mr Grey also captures the essence
of always thinking you know where you are but never having the proper
perspective to do so.  Is this me?  Somewhat.  How much I don't know.  I am
looking for that awakening.  I am waiting for the day when I will wake up
with a new idea about who I am and what I  should be doing.  But I am not
being stagnant while doing so.  I too am living in the moment, doing things.
Attempting to live and find.  It is an active wait.  Only a wait because I
know that I can never actually find... it must find me.

This is a morning freewrite.  I must keep writing until my time is up.

A few people have regained communication.  Ryan and Jenni and Lori.  I
wonder sometimes about whether I am discarding friends, making friends, or
keeping friends.  I suppose some of each.  Trying not to hang onto friends
who just drag you around as an accessory to their clothing -- trying to
regain the friends that actually were worthwhile.  Sometimes seeking ot find
who out there is another worthwhile friend.  Have to be careful though.  In
a small town you don't get the same opportunity to lose yourself away from
everyone.  Instead of having freedom to make friends and lose friends in the
crowd, yoiu have to see people you like and dislike every day.  No
opportunity to run.

How old were you when you had your baby?  Got married?  How old were you
when you stopped being irresponsible and started shouldering more
responsibility than yours alone?  How old were you when you stopped seeing
hte world through a single set of eyes?  People younger than me get married
with alarming regularity.  People younger than me have children sometimes.
People younger than me have jobs that they'll keep for ten to twenty years.
Sometimes without even trying.  What is it about this that makes no sense?
Or alot of sense?  What is it that bothres me?  Is it because, being so
citified, I just htink people need to be much older before surrenering hteir
freedoms (This is the reason that civilized nations tend to reduce in
population without immigration...?)  or is it something real?

Where did you come from.  This is important.  Think back.  What are your
earliest childhood memories?  Are they traumatic?  Or is it only me?  Am I
the only one who seems to fixate on the things that went wrong in my life?
The two youngest memories I have are my parent's fight and getting lost in
San Francisco.  I think I can trace a huge number of things back to those
two events.  I wonder if recalling bad memories is traceable to these two
events or if we, as a species, simply tend to recall things that went wrong
more easily.  Or if it's my nature to recall them.

[End morning freewrite]