Chicago Chick

What Kind of Parent I Want to Be

I didn't get much sleep last night because I was stressing out about finding a new place and finding a temporary home for all of us.  Originally, we were going to purchase my parents' house as they are moving to Arizona but that is probably not going to work out.  A lot of it has to do with timing and the need for me to be independent from my parents.

My relationship with my parents has always been very complex and as I've become an adult and parent, our relationship has become even more complex.  It's hard to figure out which situations call for me to be the child and which call for me to be the grown up with my parents.  For example, I took the adult role when David and I purchased our condo and I'm a pretty quick study.  When we negotiated one of the two purchasing contracts for the house we were going to buy in Spring, David and I were adults - we knew who to call and that we needed a home inspection, etc.

When I told my mom that we had put a bid on a house, she treated me like a child by telling me that we needed to negotiate a good price; that we needed to have a home inspection; that we needed to find an attorney.  She was surprised that we had covered all our bases.  To say that my mom has a hard time letting us go is an understatement.  I really believe that she has not cut the proverbial umbilical cord yet even though all her kids are in the 30's (and one is in his 40's).

As an adult, I know that my parents have made mistakes when raising us.  Then again, what parent hasn't made mistakes.  And like a lot of parents I am trying very hard to make sure that I raise the boys differently than how my parents raised me.  Don't get me wrong - I'm not ungrateful and I'm not saying that my childhood was bad, but there are things that I think need to be "tweaked".

And the Changes KEEP Coming!

I guess the belief that one should never "assume" is correct because one of the two offers we received ended up coming up to a price that we were comfortable with.  First of all, let me just say that when you sell something large like a house, you are never comfortable with the price.  I spent all of Sunday second guessing myself and wondering if the price was right.  Then, I spent all of Sunday night after we signed the contract wishing I had never signed the contract and agonizing how I didn't really want to move.

Let's just say that change is not something that I've gotten better at.  One would think that since I experience change more than the average bear - mostly due to self inflicted situations - that I would be okay or at least a little comfortable with it.  One would be wrong, WRONG, WRONG because I'm not - not even with the self-inflicted change which is what this situation is.

Yes, I know that it's what is best for the boys and yes I know that we need the space.  But, after cleaning out the place to get it ready for showings and decorating it to the way it should have been when we first moved there, I've really come to love our place.  While it's the move to the suburbs that is freaking me out and not having to find a temporary place to live, I'm trying to be positive.  Maybe if I tried to find something that I hated about our place, it would be helpful.

Cleaning . . . AGAIN!

So, this past weekend we had 4 showings on Saturday and have 2 today.  AND, we received 2 offers yesterday.  Relax - they were pretty low and one of the offers included a closing date of August 27th.  Okay, so by the time our attorney reviews the contract and then their attorney reviews the contract it will probably be the middle of August which would leave us with about 2 weeks to pack up our lives, find a place to rent/live, and finalize Nick's birthday party.  Oh, and did I mention that I actually have to work and David has the 2 little ones with the sticky hands to deal with?

Never mind the offered price was too low, but the August 27th close date?  Ridiculous.  Still, I don't feel stressed out at all and again, it's because of our real estate agent.  He was extremely helpful in giving us some advice on how to respond and didn't get all hysterical on us like our ex-real estate agent did (or would have).  And, ultimately it was what David wanted to do that got done.

It's pretty amazing.  We've only been working with the new guy for 3 weeks.  I never expected that we would have an offer by now.  I suppose I could beat myself up and say that we should never have hired the first real estate agent, but I won't because there is nothing I can do about what happened.  Also there is no way I could have anticipated that she would have a melt-down on me.  I guess I should add "find a place to live" on my list of things to do.  It's something I never really thought of because I truthfully never expected things to get to this point.

So WHERE Did "IT" Go?

I seem to spend a lot of time driving.  You'd think that I would spend LESS time driving since my office is 10 minutes away from home, but I seem to run home for lunch every now and then.  And, even though I didn't work today because it's the weekend for chrissakes, I sat for what seemed like forever on Damen Ave.

Luckily, there is a lot to look at while you're waiting.  There's road construction and it's "fest" season so there are a lot of people walking around.  There's also a lot of reading material in the form of graffiti and advertisements on buses.  Today I saw a bus that was announcing that SYPHILIS IS BACK! - seriously, it was in bold, black, all capital letters with an exclamation point.

I was a little shocked.  Then, I thought to myself, "Hmmm. . . if syphilis is back that must mean that it went somewhere."  My next thought was whether the reason syphilis is back was because Justin Timberlake brought sexy back not too long ago.  And, did sexy being back cause syphilis to follow along?  Where did sexy and syphilis go?  And, does this mean that safe sex went somewhere too?

I was actually laughing out loud by the time I drove past the first of 2 tee-shirt stores on Damen.  It was the thought of getting one of those vacation souvenir shirts that says, "Syphilis went away and all I got was this stupid t-shirt.".  I guess I'm just easily amused!

Thinking Twice and Then Thinking Again

This afternoon over lunch, I got a call from a former co-worker and friend that I have not talked to in forever.  It's funny because what brought her back into my life - not that she really left because she's one of those friends that you don't talk to in forever but when you do talk it's like things never really changed - was the Chicago Tribune article that was written about Chicago Mom's Blog.  It was the freakiest thing getting an e-mail from her, but it was also very cool.

After something like 2 years, we actually got to talk to each other instead of trading e-mails and it was a lot of fun.  I've always loved talking to her, but with the things going on in my life it was nice to talk to someone who knew me "back when" and who had worked with me.  She has always given me really good advice and when we were on the road working waaaay back when, she would be the one who would tell me that I was being crazy.  She was always right.

And, she is still right - darned her.  So, you may notice that some entries have either been edited or removed (er, deleted) because she made me think twice about something and then think about it again.  And in the end, she was right - as usual! Oh, and to "Mama I" - THANK YOU.

Things are Not Always What They Seem

Once upon a time before I had kids and before I had a husband, a mortgage, and tons of stress in my life, I was ridiculously organized.  Or, that is what people thought.  For some strange reason my classmates and later my co-workers would tell me that I was so organized and for the life of me I couldn't understand why they would say that.  Maybe it's because I seemed prepared for everything - it's that big bag of crap I carry around for any situation - or maybe it's because I didn't look so panicked when things happened.

I find this funny because people, I AM A STRESS CASE!!!!!  I always feel like I'm carrying around too much stuff, I can't find anything, I have to keep a list of things to figure out what I need to do.  Seriously, organized?  That would not be me.  I love that people think that I'm organized and if you know me personally, I would love for you to continue to believe that.

I've gone through countless organizers (paper, electronic, and a combination of both).  Because I already had a Blackberry and my new company requires me to use the Cingular network that they're on, they sent me another Blackberry.  Yep, I am carrying 2 Blackberries and it's making me crazy.  Currently, some stuff is in a paper organizer and other crap is in one of my 2 gadgets.  Then there is the stuff that David has in his "phone calendar" (that's another topic for another time) that he doesn't tell me about but directly impacts me or the kids or both.

Yesterday someone sent me a Mom Agenda which nearly caused me to have an aneurysm.  I need to figure out how the H-E-double hockey sticks I am going to get organized because it's getting to the point where I am spending more time trying to find my multiple schedules than actually reading and entering them.  On the plus side, the Mom Agenda is very much like the Busy Body Book that I have been using currently, but the Mom Agenda seems to suit how I organize my tasks better.  However, the Busy Body Book is inexpensive which I love.

We'll see - both of them were gifts and I really appreciate it when someone sends me something because it shows that they took time out of their busy schedules to think of me.  It's the same when people comment on my entries.  For now, I have another paper organizer to test out.  I need to put in a task somewhere to remind me to figure out the gadget and David's phone calendar issues.

Good Advice

I received a comment from Mary Anne over at Mightier Than the Pen to my last post and what she said was eye-opening.  She is absolutely right when she said, "It's probably difficult to find happiness and balance when your measurements are from BAD to GOOD or GOOD to BAD. ".  Really, life isn't about extremes - I guess you could say that it's not like an On and Off switch.

But, all my life I have seen things in this way - either good or bad and right or wrong.  I am sure that I am not alone in this thinking.  Seriously, when you think about it when you were a kid either what you did was labeled "good" or "bad" and when you were in school your answers were either "right" or "wrong".  Somewhere along the way to adulthood, I seemed to miss the lessons on the in-between.

Even in the workplace the labels stopped applying and answers to questions became, "Well, it depends . . . "  I find that funny (and somewhat sad) that I learned to that at work there was a gray area, but at home there was no gray.  I realize that there is a happy medium, but apparently I don't apply it to my life.

Maybe this is the reason that if I don't have a job that I will end up on the streets living in a refrigerator box with my family - meaning having a job = having a place to live and not having a job = living on the streets.  Really, this isn't true but it is the way that I've always viewed things.  No wonder I'm a stress case!

Good Stuff

Today was a gorgeous day in Chicago.  It was warm, but not ridiculously so and it wasn't humid.  The sun was shining and traffic wasn't bad; in a word, things went "right" today.  Sometimes when things go right, I think that it's one of the seven signs (consequently, the movie of the same name with Demi Moore so disturbed me).

I did a practice demo with my husband who thought I sounded better.  I have to take that with a grain of salt since he's completely biased.  But, I have to say that I actually felt better when I was delivering it and even though I don't know if it truly IS better, at least I felt better about it.  We'll see - I have a practice demo tomorrow with one of the other managers.

Why is it that when things go right, we don't just pause for a moment and savor it?  Probably because we're a pessimistic society as a whole.  I wrote in a previous entry about how when things go well, we're apt to think that something bad is soon to follow.  I think we think this way because it appeals to our sense of fairness.  After all, something good cannot happen without something bad happening to balance it out.  It's crazy, isn't it?

This evening, I was watching my little boys run around the living room and actually PLAY with each other.  This may not be exciting for a lot of people, but a month ago Nick would not give Alex the time of day.  In fact, I don't think he really acknowledged him unless Alex was in his way and Nick would see him as an obstacle to knock down.  It was really sad, but as I saw two of of the three most important boys in my life getting along, I realized that sometimes you get good stuff and sometimes you get bad stuff.  And, it really doesn't matter if the bad stuff comes into your life because sooner or later the good stuff has to come along to offset it.  Plus, I am really REALLY fortunate to have a good family, good friends, and other "good stuff" in my life.

Is it About Packaging?

In an attempt to relax, I decided that I would download some audio books into my iPod.  Thanks to Audible.com, I was able to find some books that I really wanted to read but never seem to find the time to.

Reading means that you have to have time where you're actually not being bothered by the little people with sticky hands.  That time does not really exists as they actually barge in on me when I'm doing my thing in the bathroom.  Sorry - TMI.  This past weekend I downloaded "I Feel Bad About My Neck" by Nora Ephron.  It was funny as I expected it to be.  I'm not sure if I thought it was so funny because it was being read to me; maybe it wouldn't be as funny if I had to read it myself.

The book left me wondering about packaging - the people kind of packaging.  For example, when I was 21 I thought I was fat, but in reality I was far from fat.  In fact, I probably needed to gain a few pounds and I was in the throws of bulimia.  So, not only was I stupid in thinking that I was fat, but the bulimia made my moods swing faster than Lance Armstrong on his bicycle.  It was scary and I often wonder how it is that I made it through college.

The point about packaging was driven home even more when I accidentally ran into the woman who was viewing our home for a second time.  Hopefully this means that a contract is working its way to our door, but I digress.  The woman who was looking at our home drove a big black SUV, was tall, blonde, thin, and tan, AND had the huge sunglasses that are so "in" today.  She is probably going to be one of those women who is a gazelle even when she's pregnant.  In a word, she was completely opposite what I felt like that day I saw her - a complete troll.

Later that day, I asked David the dreaded question that all husbands or boyfriends hate to hear: "Do you think I'm still pretty?"  And, as always I received an honest answer.  He said that I was beautiful, but I had gained some weight and I didn't really care what I looked like anymore.  In short, the way I packaged myself wasn't helping me.  So, it IS about packaging.

I suppose I could still be cute if I packaged myself better.  I mean, I still have good skin although I'm going through a bout of something-that-i'm-not-sure-what.  But after turning 30 I realized that I was too tired and there were too many things that were important that I didn't want to spend forever in the mirror.  Maybe I've taken it too far because leaving the house without brushing your hair doesn't do much for your self-esteem.  I suppose that before I turn 40, I really need to start taking better care of myself and this includes the packaging.

Pain in the Neck

The boys are down for their nap and it is eerily silent in our home.  Both David and I are on the Internet and I often wonder if it would be like this if we didn't have the boys.  I remember once upon a time when we first bought our place that we were sitting like this and I was IMing him.  David didn't appreciate it because he couldn't figure out how to get the IM thing to quit popping up in the middle of his screen.

But it's quiet - so quiet and not in a bad way either.  Normally, I hate Sundays and I can't say that I've begun to like them.  I think I started hating Sundays when I was traveling for work because I would have to get up at the crack-a$$ of dawn to get to the airport.  Those days are over - or so I think - and Sundays are not as bad as they used to be.  But, today I am finding that I am really stressed out.

The reason that I'm so stressed out is because I just cannot seem to get comfortable in my skin again.  Maybe if stopped making drastic changes in my life the stress level would go down.  I only have myself to blame because I'm the one making the decisions.  I roped David into the idea of selling our home and I decided to change careers (bigger change than merely changing a job.  It all adds to more stress in my life and I'm finding that the stress is taking its toll on me.

Not only am I NOT exercising and NOT eating right, but now I have the stiffest of stiff necks.  Seriously, you can feel the knot on the right side of my neck and I feel like my right shoulder is higher than the left.  Honestly I feel like I'm walking around like Quasimodo.  It's a sad day when you're rifling through the Internet trying to find a cure to a stiff neck.

I'm trying to take it easy, but I'm not so good at that.  A lot of people who really know me, know that I'm terrible at trying to relax.  Yes, Mama I, I haven't gotten much better at relaxing since the days you knew me.  So, here is my question to you guys: How do you relax?  Mind you, I have a household of 4 to support and I don't have a lot of time so your suggestions have to take this into account.  Seriously, I am asking for help - not something that I do very often.  But this time, I REALLY need some advice!

Fish Out of Water

Yesterday a bunch of people who rent office space in the same building where I rent office space decided to order pizza and sit in the conference room.  It was a cool way to get to know people in the office and everyone was really nice.  It was almost like everyone worked for the same company; very similar to the lunches I had with friends during my normal corporate workdays.

I realized how much I missed having co-workers during lunch today, but I also realized how different I am from everyone else.  When I mean different, I mean that we're not in the same place.  There were a bunch of people who are the same age range as me, but they have their own businesses or don't have children.  Normally I am very good at meshing with other people from different backgrounds, but today I felt like a fish out of water.

It wasn't because I couldn't relate or that I couldn't get along with everyone because I could.  I think the reason is because these people have been around each other for almost a year and they know each other.  I'm sure that this would be the case with me a year from now, but we'll see.  Today I just didn't feel that we didn't "click" as well as I've done with people in the past.

Little Boys Shreik Too

David and I are ridiculously busy people - sha right!  We're no busier than any other families out there, but certain things fall by the wayside like the boys' haircuts.  Today we decided that it was time for the boys to get their locks cut.  Both of them were starting to look ridiculously scruffy and Alex could barely see because his hair was so long.

I'm a little embarrassed to admit it, but I took Alex's bangs and tied them up in a ponytail holder.  It was frightening to see that he looked like me in one of my favorite baby pictures.  I was smart enough not to take a picture of Alex, so there's no evidence to blackmail him with when he gets older.  Trust me, if you do something like dress your son up as a little girl *cough cough my sister in-law* you do not want pictures around to embarrass the kid when he's a teenager.

Trips to get the boys' hair cut are few and far between not just because we're busy.  The main reason that we wait so long is because we hate to live through the wailing, crying, and the high-pitched, eardrum-shattering shrieks that make the windows in the hair place shake.  It really IS that bad.  I hate to make people live through that pain because I hate living through it myself.

But, it was time.  We took them to Kid Snips instead of Snippets because our favorite hair dresser only works on Saturdays.  Trying to get an appointment on Saturdays is ridiculous and it's always crowded.  The person who cut the boys' hair - Mariana - was wonderful; she even used the clippers on both of them.

I'm not saying that the boys didn't cry and shriek through their haircuts because they did.  But, Mariana wasn't even phased.  It was remarkable and the boys look great.  So even though my ears are ringing and I've got little "hair itchies" on me, I'm happy that the trip to get their hair cut was made a little more pleasant.  I actually left the place not so embarrassed that my sons could hit that high C note with their wailing.

Afraid to Say that Things are Better

Normally I am an optimist or, as I like to say, a "realistic" optimist.  But there are parts of my life where I am truly a pessimist and I blame this on my upbringing.  In my family's culture, superstition played into everyday life A LOT.  There were even some cute sayings around them like "Purse on the floor, money out the door."  The translation was that you didn't put your purse on the floor because it would cause you to lose your money.

Yes, I am fully aware this is ridiculous.  It's as ridiculous as the belief that you shouldn't jump over someone because it would prevent them from growing; that you shouldn't leave the house on Good Friday; that wearing slippers on a cement floor will instantly give you rheumatism; or that you should never - and I MEAN NEVER - go to bed with a wet head.  For the life of me I cannot remember why you shouldn't go to bed with a wet head, but I'm sure one of my Filipino readers will comment and remind me why.

For me, the one that I believe and I'm sure a lot of other people believe is that when things are going well, you should never say that they're going well because "they" will send a bunch of bad stuff your way.  Who exactly "they" is I have no idea.  But, the belief that one should never talk about how good things are going because you'll jinx it and bad stuff will come along is a mainstay in my life.  I am sure that I am not alone.

**EDITED FOR CONTENT***

Crazy People are Not Welcome

I realized after too long that when I put the link up for our virtual tour that I was giving away our home address.  I have done a lot of stupid things in my life and when asked about WHY I did such a stupid thing I would usually respond with, "it was a good idea at the time."  I realize that putting up the link to the virtual tour was in the realm of stupid ideas and have edited previous posts to remove the link.

We've gotten a lot of traffic recently with our new real estate agent and I am sure that the people who have come to see our home are not stalkers that got the information off my website.  Still, I want to protect my family and my home.  I will not be sending out the link to our place anytime soon.  The Internet is a wonderful tool for communicating but you never know who or what is lurking out there.

Maybe the damage has already been done, but I can't change what's past.  Nothing "bad" has happened, but I'm trying to prevent that from happening.  I would never forgive myself if something bad happened because I gave up too much information on the Internet.

The Definition of Insanity

Have you ever heard of the story of Sisyphus, the king whose punishment it was to roll a huge rock up a hill only to have it roll down the other side of the hill over and over again?  Truly, that had to be maddening!

But what I find equally as maddening is the fact that husbands - or at least MY husband - don't seem to understand simple directions given.  For example, Nick has a standing play date on Tuesdays; one for which napping is very important.  Since my husband isn't really that social, it is up to me to schedule some play time for my sons.  So, I scheduled a play date with someone at 6:00 pm EVERY Tuesday.  This has been happening since April of this year!

In the past couple of weeks, the play date was missed.  Last week because David scheduled a doctor's appointment for Nick and the week before that because David decided to take the boys to his parents' house in a far away land called Huntley, IL.  Don't ask - Huntley is the end of the earth for me and if David suggests moving there I will have to shoot him.  But, I digress.

So the weekly play date has been missed 2 weeks in a row.  When this has happened, I tell David to please, please, PLEASE do NOT schedule anything on Tuesday that will interfere with Nick's nap or that will cause him to miss his 6:00 pm play date.  My husband may be okay with being a non-social troll, but I do not want that for either of my boys.

This evening I reminded David that nothing should be scheduled on Tuesday that will cause Nick to miss this play date YET AGAIN.  I received the blank stare from my husband - you know, the one where they tilt their heads and look like the dog you had when you were growing up.  The one that says, "I have no idea what you're talking about."  Sometimes I'm sure that the look really means, "Oh crap!  You told me something but I forgot and really I wasn't listening.  So I'm going to sit here and try to plead innocent."

And in that moment, I had become Sisyphus; doomed to give simple instructions that are not heard.  Doomed to receive that blank look when I remind David that I gave him simple instructions recently.  Doomed to relive the same thing over and over and over again.  Somehow we manage this little dance and never seem to learn how to break the cycle.  We beat our heads against the wall and do the same things over and over again but expect different results.  It's the very definition of insanity.

Nope, Really, I Don't Care

I feel eerily relaxed lately when it comes to our home.  I think that our new real estate agent has brought that feeling to me not only because we don't have to deal with Pat, the crazy ex-real estate agent, anymore but because our home has been refurnished.

You can really see the difference in the picture of our living room below:

"New" Living Room


Old Living Room

Is there really that much of a difference?  Well, the differences are more striking in the front hallway and the parts of the living room that you can't see.  The changes aren't only cosmetic, but there is a different feeling in our home.

Someone asked me if I cared that my home was on the market longer than expected?  I told them that I really didn't care how long it was on the market.  I actually like our place better now than I did when we first decided to sell it.  It's almost like I don't care if we have our place on the market for a while longer.  Yes, the interest rates are going up and it will be more expensive to buy a new place the longer that our place is on the market.  But, I'm feeling settled.

With the changes in the past month - except for the yelling episodes that have taken place between me and my ex-real estate agent and me and my boss - I feel better.  I feel like the world has stopped tilting every-which-way every 2 minutes.  It's something I could get used to.

There's an Explanation for Everything

The headaches, heartaches, and anxiety that I felt last week?  Yeah, it was PMS made worse with the stress from everyday life.  I wasn't going crazy; I wasn't starting a painful slide into the pit of insanity.  No, instead I was doing that thing that women do once a month.

The interesting thing was that because I started trying to eat better a la Weight Watchers and was drinking a crap load more water than I usually do, I didn't go through the usual salt and sugar cravings.  So, I was caught completely unaware.  I can ususally figure what the crazy mood swings are about but I just - well - forgot.

Getting berated last week normally would have annoyed me to no end, but it wouldn't have set off a crying jag.  Well, at least not a sobbing, sniveling, or "my life is over" kind of crying jag.  Normally I wouldn't feel so wounded and incompetent; I would have chalked part of it up to the fact that my boss, one of my oldest friends, isn't very good with feedback.

But now I am sick.  I've caught the boys' virus and my head is pounding and I'm coughing.  This all leads me to believe - if it's not one thing, then it's another - and survival depends on how quickly one bounces back from disappointment; how one revels in happiness; and the timing of ones "monthly" cycles.

I Wear Pointy Heels

Over at Filipina Moms Blog, Sheila of Xiaonlin Mama, wrote a post about what your shoes say about you.  I haven't read the book that is listed in Sheila's post, so I don't know what my shoes are saying about me.  My shoes are mostly heels - black, pointy, 2 1/2 to 3 inch heels.  Some are slingbacks, others are mules, and some are pumps.  I even have some brown shoes and maybe one pair of blue shoes but they are all heels and they are all pointy.

typical Irene shoes

2007 comfort shoes

Birkenstocks

images courtesy of Zappos.com, the BEST place to buy shoes

I have a couple of pairs of running shoes, 2 pairs of Birkenstock sandals, and this year I bought a pair of, what I would call, "comfort shoes." The Birkenstocks were purchased several years ago during a heat wave and came in handy during my back to back pregnancies.  But, I feel most comfortable in my heels - the black, pointy, high heeled shoes - so much so that I can run in them.  I can't run a 5K in them; that's what the running shoes are for.  I feel most like myself in my heels.  It's crazy, but I do.

So what do my shoes say about me?  I have no idea.  Probably that I like to be uncomfortable and that I'm short and the added height makes me feel good.  It's true that the added height makes me feel good, but in reality I just feel less "frumpy" in my shoes.  I've been wearing the comfort shoes, which I love, practically everyday since I bought them.  But, they don't make me feel like myself.  They make me feel like a soccer mom, which isn't a bad thing.  For whatever reason, the heels make me feel invincible.  I wonder if they make them with a matching "S" and flying cape?

Day Three: Update

David here.  It's day 3 of the challenge and Irene's hanging in there.  Today has been stressful for her and I'm surprised that she hasn't asked me for a reprieve.  I've been told that today Irene "hates her job" but I think she'll be wonderful at it and in time may actually enjoy it.

Irene's old boss called her a few weeks ago and offered her a Practice Director job at the consulting company he's working at, but she declined.  I'm sure she wrote about it.  I hope that she gives this job a chance and doesn't throw in the towel too soon.  I know that she will be really good at it.  This is the middle of her 6th week and it's still new.

Day One: Update

David here with an update on limited Internet use Day 1.  Irene is hanging in there.  She's been really good about keeping her promise to check e-mail only once a day and not making any entries in the blog.  She hasn't lost her mind yet and hopefully she won't.  She said to say hello.  Irene has also been updating a lot in her written diary.  When I do something that annoys her, she scribbles furiously in the diary.