I remember summers of years past, sitting out on the front porches. Me and all the neighbor kids. Some parents even joined us as we talked happily, played games and enjoyed the stars as they smiled down on our sun bleached heads. Yeah... those were the days all right.

Yet, the one thing thatg strikes me as funny- is that I was miserable a lot of the time. I hid it well. But oh, how terrible I thought I had it. My Momma left when I was just about to turn 13. I had 3 younger siblings I had to keep my eye on 90% of the time. Daddy had to work crazy hours to keep us fed and clothed. And we lived in South Colony. The "White People" projects as some called them.

I always hated that place. Subsdivisions of town houses with gold aluminum siding and brock fronts. It's fenced in swimming pool that no guests were allowed to use. The Cheesy playground equipment. And man, were they built cheap. I could hear everything that happened next door. Only on one side. Every 2 townhouses had a brick firewall. Some nights, it was awesome though. I was good friends with the kids next door, and the father was a d.j. at a local radio station. The "black station." And he played the best music. Lots of Motown. Lionel Richie, Donna Summer, The Pointer Sisters... many a nights I would lie in bed singing to the faded tunes coming through my walls. All the time, planning my escape. As if South Colony Place had been a prison and I it's convict.

Looking back, I want to jump thru my memories and grab hold of that stressed out little girl and tell her to enjoy every moment. That it wasn't as bad as I thought it was. That one day, when we left, I would miss it. And also its magic. The magic I was too blinded to see.

After all, that's the last place I had a whole family. That's the place where I had a HUGE and I do mean gargantuan support system of loving neighbors. All but a memory to me now. There are no more late night games of kick the can, bloody mary or even spin the bottle. It was there, in those very townhouse that fate brought Shawn and I together. No more pebbles thrown at my window from friends who wished me to sneak away into the night for our various forms of mischief... all gone now. I realize now, that for me, South Colony Place was a safe haven. Long gone, but not forgotten.

I have no reason to go back anymore. Everyone I knew there has grown and gone or just moved on. I miss the Donelly's, The Palmer's, The Wheatley's, the many Sara's I grew up with. I wonder where life has taken them. But I will probably never know. I moved away. I ran at tghe first chance to make a new life. And though I am now happy with where I am and who I have become, I know now, that without all that I thought caused me so much misery, I could not be the me I am today. Those were my magic years.

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Wow. I didn;t know I had all that in me. I hadn't planned to go there tonight. But I guess that's the fun of a diary. To escape... to release... to be true. I have been thinking a lot about my past as you might be able to tell. Wondering how I got to be who I am. And I must say, that I believe myself to be a good, honest person with wholesome morals. I was raised well. I was brought up a decent person. And yet, I was born a worrier. I worry about every little minute detail. Whether I can control it or not. Usually not though. I had my first ulcer at 14 sadly enough.

Worrying is not anything I have outgrown.I analyze everything. I can;t let anything "just roll off" like some people. Every phrase, every sentence, every circumstance has some hidden and underlying agenda. When money gets tight (and it always does, Im a person who shops to make myself feel better), when work gets to be overwhelming or when Shawn and I argue... I analyze it. Every bit. Over and over. I will chew on it, swallow it and regurgitate it just to chew on it some more. (pretty analogy, eh?) Shawn and I just had a talk about this. he is my opposite. NOTHING worries him. What happens, happens in his eyes. He wishes I could be more like him. Quite frankly, so do I. But how. How do you change somehting that you have done your whole life? I am, have been and probably always will be a ball of nerves. One big worry wart. I am tyring to change that fact. Don't know that I ever can. But if not, I have got to teach myself to handle it better. Find newer, safer releases. However, easier said than done.

I ran out of my last miracle at work. I found out last Monday that on the 25th (barring any more potential miracles that as I mentioned I am pretty sure I have run out of) due to cutbacks I will be going back to a machine operator. There were 4 cuts to be made. me being one. Yet, a few have been, by some grace of God spared. One guy lost his job because he put his porn items on the work database (DUH!). But I think they fall just short of saving me. It's been almost 3 years since I have run a machine. I don't know that I can do it again. Or even that I want to. Not to mention losing almost a dollar an hour. being tied to a machine and not being able to wander. I loved what I did, and damn it, I was good. One of the better ones. But alas, for me, my time is up. And so I worry.

But I have decided that I will put all my energies into doing a good job. I will not take this personally. In fact, one of the heads of my department came up to me last week and told me he was upset to see me be cut. He knew thatg out of everyone, he could count on me. He knew I did a fine job. That small pat on the back for me was HUGE! I was on an ego trip like you can;t imagine. And although it won't save my job, I go back to a machine knowing it's not because I failed the company. It's not because I did something wrong. It's because of cut backs. And because of the seniority thing the union put in place. So it makes it a bit easier... not a whole hell of a lot though.

Life at home has been difficult to say the least. With Shawn's Mom back, I ahve once again been stripped of privacy and the simple pleasures of being a home owner such as having total control of the house and all in it, being able to walk around half naked or even naked if I want.... making love whenever I want without fearing she might hear us.

She's been back for almost 3 weeks now. I made Shawn promise me she would get a job and move out ASAP. Yet, in 3 weeks, she's lounged around my house in her nightgown day and night. Hasn;t looked for work. And is constantly telling me how she would do things if she were me. Well, she's NOT me. And I resent it. ALl of it. Yet, to save face and be fair to Shawn, I try to remain peaceful. I have the "bitch"' in me tucked away for venting times that it's safe. It hasn't been easy at all, and I hate it. But what can I do? I love Shawn. And it is his Mom. And were it to come right down to it, he'd take her over me. And rightly so, I know. But it doesn't make me feel any better. I still want to be the main woman in his life.

And with the holidays coming, I already know they're ruined. She'll most likely still be here. Money is tight as hell right now. And I wanted desperately, for us to wake up and share a christmas morning just the two of us. Aww, bloody hell!

My sister Lisa is getting married. Don;t know if I have wrote about it yet. I was already leary considering the guy is on an Army base somewhere in Kentucky. She met him on line. But she promised he was moving here. Last night, I called her. She was drunk and informed me she lied. They're moving to Kentucky. Her and "our" babies. I tried explaining that she can;t do that. He could be evil. She said he was in the army. Wasn;t the sniper a military man? She is happy with him. She hasn;t know him long enough to be guaranteed happiness. The kids love him. They don;t know him. On and on we argued. I hung up and I cried. I cried for my Dad, who has raised those babies from their birth because Lisa couldn;t do it. In 7 years, he has never been without them and the thought of being ripped from them is killing him. I cried for me because my sister and her babies, OUR babies will be states away. Miles upon endless miles... I ahven;t been able to have kids. Hers are like my own. I don;t know if it's bad for me to see it that way, but I do. My heart is breaking.

Christmas is only a month and a few days away. I'm slightly broke, but even last year, I swore this Christmas would NOT be so commercialized. I am going to try to live up to that. No more DVD players and store bought happiness taht lasts until the next fad. I am making stuff. Cheezy as it sounds. This Christmas... gifts from the heart. And oh, how I plan to put my heart into them.

Well, Im about out of breath. Not that this wasn't long winded enough. I grow tired and plan to go relax.

Sleep with angels, world.

Simply,

Sara