Hello out there -

I'm scaling back on some activity, and it's not fair to the very active BL muses to hog an active character with my inactive self. I've emailed the TM Mods, and I'm retiring my Shirley. If you like the journal name, and you'd like to have it, please let me know.

It was great to meet a lot of you, and you deserve someone who'll be more gung-ho with this.

I think the latest conversation between Denny and Carl might have been …enlightening. Then again, I’m not sure I really want to know. I’m never sure if I should be flattered or annoyed at being considered something of a trophy around here; however, I’m leaning towards annoyed, and if Carl’s adopting that mentality, there’s going to be an issue. It’s bad enough Alan does it, even if it’s probably just to toy with Denny or irk me.

I’d try to band the women around here to turn the tables, but I think most of the men would love it, with the exceptions of Jerry and Clarence who might die of embarrassment, and frankly, the firm can’t handle that kind of bad publicity.

No, in fact, I think in this case, ignorance may not be bliss, but it’s certainly peaceful. In the meantime, I’m going to keep billing spa treatments and skin treatments to the firm, and if Denny or Carl complain. I’ll give them the glare that withered a thousand ships.

Denny. What can I say about Denny?

In a way, I never really had him, did I? No matter what he says, if I'd ever really stepped off that pedestal he put me on, ever let myself go - and I'd been tempted - I'd have lost myself back then, and I'm not all that sure what remained would have been worth keeping.

What Carl told me about keeping men at arm's length hurt because it felt true; maybe it isn't, but it felt that way. At that moment, I was tired, I was lonely, and I was so relieved to have someone accept me. Then Denny walked in and I watched his heart break, I think.

Later, I tried to explain to Denny that he hadn't lost us, because the us that could have been was...a dream. The us that is, the me that loves him under all that Denny Crane! is there, and always will be. I wonder if he heard me. I'd like to think he did.

When Paul told me he was leaving, I was shocked, but I wasn't surprised. He's grown noticeably older in the last few years, and let's face it, the Boston branch of the firm has become…well, "chaotic" is a kind word.

I should have been angry, maybe. It's not easy being the lone voice of sanity, and I counted on his help. But in retrospect, I contributed to the problem, too. I hired these new associates, I've let Denny run rampant, and I knew what was going on in my firm. Paul was my rock, but even a rock can be worn down.

Every day he came in and did his job, trying to hold down a semblance of order, trying to impose a façade of professionalism; meanwhile, he was barely holding it together at home. But for Paul, home was home, and work was work, and finally, he made his choice. He told me he'd only wished he'd made it earlier.

I think I need to learn from Paul's example. I need to draw some lines, and I need to settle some things for the firm and myself. The first thing I'm doing tomorrow is calling Carl Sack. Paul was wise enough to know that he couldn't do this alone, and neither can I.


(Words: 214)