I surfed blogs last night, link to link to link from some of my favorites. I found a slightly naughty little blog underworld through it all--fascinating, but one look was enough. The things people feel free to expose to the world. Or was it fiction?

I'm finding beads are not enough. In the jail today, there was a mother and a daughter and two sisters related to each other, but not the mother and daughter. Except most of these women are connected socially, sometimes by two or three degrees. The challenges these women face--their families living without them. So there you go, the beads are not enough. There's a great need but I don't connect on a level where the needs are talked about. And sometimes it's painfully obvious that I come from another world. Pondering.

I wish I could become the person I want to be. Right now. There are books to read and people to learn from and experiences to have, time for reflection. But I've been waiting my whole life for this (to become myself) and I have an inkling of the possibilities but there's never enough time. Impatient.

"It is good to have an end to journey toward; but it is the journey that matters in the end."
~Ursula K. LeGuin