Howl with me, sisters!

Yes, Artemis is back, and she is full and I am undone.

My Panda Express fortune taunts me – “An admirer is too shy to greet you.”

Chaos still reigns in #7 in Atwater Ghetto, not quite as bad as it was but still bad.

I’m exhausted and burned out after a long, difficult, fulfilling, confusing week and indulgently ate Ben & Jerry’s vanilla, fudge, caramel straight from the carton. Luckily, I’m not a big ice cream eater so I only ate a few spoonfuls before I was sated.

Speaking of sated, I am so not sated in ways that, well, too intimate to discuss here. Just know that I need to avoid male contact until Artemis retreats and I’m glad I didn’t throw myself at my dearest friend last night. Well, maybe not glad but relieved. Well, not really relieved just glad I didn’t embarrass myself.

Although the pull of Artemis is not as strong and the swing between the moods is less than it has been. Progress? I hope so.

My brain has been curled up with the thought of identity this week. Mine, of course, because that’s where I am right now. Really trying to figure out who I am. And really trying to figure out what that means. There is a show I produced a long time ago that was just darling and heartbreaking called “Who Am I This Time?”. It’s a lovely play about a man who has no identity he can embrace so he loses himself in theatrical roles and becomes the character he is playing on stage. A woman falls in love with him as his character, trying to get behind that façade and figure out who he is exactly. In the end, they decide to spend their lives playing roles for each other. It’s beautiful and sad and bittersweet. I feel like that sometimes. Who am I this time? How do I figure that out?

I understand where some of that confusion comes from. Family of athletes, I’m the artist. They never really understood me and I never valued my artist until recently. And I am attracted to incredibly talented, passionate men because of their strength and their desires to achieve their dreams. And I lose mine in theirs. That’s a big concern with the recent OOMA because he is so incredibly gifted, complements my talents perfectly, and I know I could learn – and have learned -- so much from him. And that’s probably why I need to not be with him (besides the fact that he probably isn’t interested anyway). I’m not strong enough yet to not become what I think he wants me to be. I’m already doing it and have been doing it for months. “If I wear this, he’ll notice me and he’ll see I can be (fill in the blank) and fall madly in love with me.” Yeah, that’s worked nicely so far.

Tonight, my mind is as full as the moon and just as moody. I am heading for bed soon because I haven’t slept much this week and am just beat. So I should stop trying to think, grab Twyla and put my new sheets on the bed (yay!) and curl up with the rays of the moon, hoping they’ll bring some enlightenment to my muddy brain.