A Bust

I am in the north of my state visiting my surragate mother aunt. Her daughter, the one who in 2001 I kept from killing myself, because I knew it would screw her up, she is having her first formal dance! I saw a picture of her in full hair, dress and makeup, she looks so beautiful, and not at all like a little harlot like so many 15 year olds look like.

The point of me coming up hare was to learn how to use my mom's sewing machine. We set it up and unfortunately, the reverse doesn't work and there is a tension problem, basically, its broken.

So I have had this sewing machine in my posession for 20 years, and now, all of a sudden, I can't stand the idea of not owning a sewing machine. To make that thinking even sillier, I was trying to hem and mend some uniforms of mine, and I just felt like a mess. I didn't feel like the amazing success that I felt when I made a half & half shirt for my cousin afew months ago. So my fantasies of becoming a sew-er (if I dont put the dash there I am saying I want to be a sewer!) those fantasies are tabled for now. I don't play guitar like my mom, I don't sew like my mom, I don't run like my mom. Well at least I have a messy house like my mom ;)

Well, as my therapist taught me I should be looking at the positives...I did reinforce the butt and inner thighs of all of my uniform pants, I measured and ironed for the hems on three of them, and at least I have taken the step to try to learn the sewing machine. And I got to spend time, with my aunt. Nothing is more bondy than standing around a sewing machine and learning where to wrap the thread, very generation to generation passing :) So this trip really isn't a bust, I accomplished something.