hope soo..darn text is shrinking shrinking..and I was writing about the women's health fair at the community center in Neah Bay and how I was busy trying to ignore my feelings to the point when I got home I cried because I had buried them ten feet deep in a hill of sand and regret...like why would I be attracted to that person?  you just don't know, you just art..hehe, art, sometimes typos are for the good...I sat there, looking all around the room, I know this person very little, try to be polite, isn't really something I should invest in...I think it comes later but it's here and I let it slide into the sea, the rain comes down in buckets, the roof leaks like a sieve (really,, truly) but I'm like hmmm..why do I dig this person?  it's bit Tony Hillerman..the hair..the face is 'up yours...I'm the one with the club..you're going down, baby' and I'm like shoot there goes my font shrinking again, hgehe...squidlitts...
ok so he's a fisherman for one...he had his truck repo'd like mine was...he isn't interested in me, I don't think, well if he is heck if I know it..I'm like yeah...and I realize that it's all about the laws of attraction with a lot of cultural interface going on, he could be Japanese the way he looks, about as big as myself, maybe younger, OH, that's it...yep...I think at 62 I'm over the hill in the men department, he'll never go for me because I'm older...shoot, I looked at my arm when I was in the bathroom up there, it's like wrinkly saggin' and yet I go out there and see him blue teeshirt, jeans...don't remember shoes, hair in a traditional cornhusker hank always wears it like that, it's Navajo but it could be apache, something I don't know, my instincts say Navaho...but you know, asking for trouble I tell myself, am I? I don't think feeling that nice about someone is trouble, what I think is it always gets yanked away from me somehow so I'm very afraid to let it happen again and yet I know this is what I want...to tame this bad boy? eh...what's a bad boy?  well...I'd have to be real with him, that's probably a challenge, I have no self-image...you know, like you think women are supposed to feel good about their bodies, I like mine, it's soft, curvy, kind of svelte, swanky, something...I can dance...I love to dance, I like my face, but would he?  I don't even know my indian roots but I think there's some in the french canada place my family won't talk about so maybe there's the tears...I can't be who I've been told I am not...something like that maybe, but no, I never let anything get in the way when I feel as I do but I saw myself doing that, just like asphalting the path to sitting right there on his lap, which is where I would have been, sobbing on his chest, 'I have a crush on you!!' how good I am to hide it...why should he know...well I went to his house one day to tell him not to bring fish to the seniors...and he was wearing only a towel and I thought when I was upclose with him...I don't like this guy like THAT?   but there he was sitting right across from me and I knew I did...and I went home and cried about it...so frustrated...really frustrated...his number is in my contact list...I could just call him, say hay, I do...have a big lumpy wet noodle of a longing for you...a bright bird on a wet beach, a cloud coming in with too much rain...a history of a shared land...maybe I'm a first person as well...I wouldn't know I feel tears that must be it, someone in my family history is a bastard way back...we could find out, there's the ancestry thing going on I could find out...I think they buried it well though, I may never know...I shouldn't go on about that, my father is six years in the grave and never spoke of it just like Grandpa Hummel would never talk about being at the gates of Belsen Belsen when the US Army opened 'er up...and he never did...would I?  would I speak about this really strong pulse of heart, just like my wholel left side where the heart is...bigger stronger, man the type bounces big and small...hehe...going on and on...that's the one...but when you get him up close and inspect his pores, are they going to please you...you get up close and you're like eyuwww, that's the guy?  and you know if you don't spell it out, seek it out, you're going to do like I did, and go home and cry your eyes out because

you didn't...