The slaughter has stopped. The ferry boat has docked for the day and those on the shore are safe for now. I am one of the survivors.

Today was brutal. Around 2pm my boss came out to my desk and I asked if the "layoffs" were over. Yes. I asked who had been let go since I had a feeling there were more than I had seen pass by my desk, so she ran down the list. Ugh.

I need a cookie.

Okay.... that's better. Oatmeal.

Even though the layoffs are done many of us think it is not the end. It may be another month or a few months, but we think there will be more layoffs. It is in these times that I'm glad I don't make a huge amount of money because I seem to stay out of the line of fire with my little salary.

Maybe I'll take my kiddo out for dinner to celebrate that I'll still be getting a paycheck.

We just finished eating Wendy's burgers and a Frosty. Yep. I'm a big spender!!

Anyway, I also went to my surgeon for a follow up to the excisional biopsy they did almost two weeks ago. Things are good. It was a fibro cyst which is benign and nothing to be concerned about. Now I just need to wait for the stitches to dissolve and I'll be all set and my boob will be back to nearly normal. While I was in the exam the surgeon told me that though it is called a cyst it is a solid mass that looks like a little white marble. I told him it was too bad there weren't two of them because I could have kept them and made pearl earrings! He shook his head and laughed. I am glad I can amuse people. It is my purpose in life.

After the visit to the surgeon I went to my PO box. I was anxious. I had written my old friend who is in jail and I was afraid he wouldn't write me back. I always worry about things like that. As I pulled the multiple pieces of mail from School of Americas, Amnesty International, Oxfam, etc. out of my mailbox I spied an address with very familiar handwriting. My heart soared! I quickly sorted through the rest of the junk mail and one of the last pieces in my hand was the letter I had written to him. It had been refused! How then did he know where to write? I was confused. Inside my original letter was a xerox copy with multiple reasons why a letter might be refused and there, highlighted in yellow, was "stamped envelope". What? Who knew a stamped envelope would be considered dangerous or otherwise be forbidden!! Hell, can you even fashion a shank out of a stamp???

As I got in my car I ripped his envelope open and read page after page that he had written. I remember that handwriting so well. It was so good to hear from him. They didn't tell him why they refused my mail, but they did give him my address so he could write. Thankfully.

He told me some different things that had gone on in his life and how he had thought he would never hear from me. He said he was currently seeing some woman and that she wanted to marry him, but now that I was back in contact with him he couldn't marry her until he knew what my feelings were. I'm flattered. I didn't write him to reestablish a romance but I never rule out anything. Still, if he thinks he loves the woman he should marry her and I should be of no influence.

Oh, had I forgotten to mention it had once been a romance? Actually, he was my first. We were together as boyfriend/girlfriend for a year before we had sex, then it only happened one other time in the next two years. Mostly because we couldn't ever find the time or place to be alone. But even after I moved states away we kept in contact and were friends. Do I think we could be "a couple" again, I doubt it. It has been 20 years. Right now I want to know him as a person, a friend, again.

In much of the letter he was professing his love and he wrote me a poem with beautiful artwork all around it. It was about a ring I had once given him for him to give back to me... as in getting married. I was 17 and honestly, I don't remember the ring or giving it to him. But the poem goes on about the ring and the joining of two people. Um... this guy is thinking marriage??? Holy crap!!! He doesn't know me very well, does he?!?

Do you think he still has the ring?

In the letter he went on to tell me that he was still dancing, doing art and fighting. Fighting? I hope he means martial arts (or martian arts as I originally typed because that would be totally AWESOME!! HA!!) because if he's getting into bar fights and stuff that is pretty stupid. He's a tattoo artist and makes good money, or so he says. He didn't mention any offspring. Didn't mention anything about his brothers or other family.

He did tell me that our friend, the fourth person from our circle of friends, is indeed dead. I was very sad to hear the news, although in my heart I knew. He didn't say how he passed, only that he passed many years ago. I will have to find out because I need to know. Right now it hasn't really sunk in that he's gone, but eventually it will become real. I won't tell the other person, the friend I have been in touch with for a long time, until I know. She will be crushed to hear he's passed.

So. I've had alot to process today.

I wanted to write the guy back this evening, but I need to think about things before I give the wrong impression or say something leading because I'm happy to have heard from him. Let me not be foolish!

The day started great, took a nose dive at work, then perked back up at the surgeon's, got awesome at the post office, then dipped again as I read the letter. It's been quite a ride. I'm glad it's almost over. Tomorrow things will be clearer.

Tomorrow I will go to the goodwill store and buy cheap pants. I love the goodwill store! I'll clean my house and work on the guys' website some more. Last weekend we (the guys and I) were at the Dodge Poetry Festival... I got to see another old friend of mine who was a featured story-teller there and I met a well-known poet from my tribe for whom my grandmother once made corn soup. I even did the idiotic "Do you remember a little Mvskokee lady in XXX state that made you corn soup when you were visiting so-and-so?" I was dorky but she was cool. I did go buy one of her books afterward. Saturday night I had one beer and got buzzed and the guys all laughted at me. I stole plates and forks so that !nt! could eat lasagna (I returned the stolen property later that evening) and I also told Rum! my entire life story over the course of the weekend. I heard a poet (Chris Abani) recite the two most intriguing words I think I have ever heard: organic shrapnel. I wish I had the actual poem but perhaps you can read through his website and find it.

It was an interesting weekend.

My son just said to one of his buddies "I just had my period, leave me alone please!" Hahahahahaha! How did he get so warped!!!

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