My father's daughter

Good morning. I am sitting watching Fox news waiting for my Wheaties to get soggy (I can still remember sitting on my dad's lap when I was 3 of 4 asking for him to share his soggy Wheaties with me - it's probably one of my earliest memories).

Today's agenda is to make some serious progress on my final project for one of my classes. We had to choose a well-know/famous person and devise a treatment plan for them based on our theoretical approach. I thought about choosing Lucille Ball or Judy Garland but the reality was that I'm in England and there aren't exactly tons of books sitting in the library about these two figures. So, I went with Princess Diana.

It's been a FASCINATING project. As I was reading biographies I was reminded that a person can have all of the power, position and money in the world and be ABSOLUTELY miserable. I learned that she knew that Charles was having an affair with Camilla even before they were married. My focus of the paper is on addressing her Bulimia. It broke my heart when I found out that even on her honeymoon she was binging and purging upwards of four times a day!

I do need to report (especially after Bridget's sweet, concerned message) that my birthday was salvaged :) Class was great (and really, I'm Joy. Where would I rather be than in class?). My classmates completely made my day. Instead of buying me a birthday cake they brought "birthday fruit" because they knew I wouldn't be into the cake. It feels good to have a group of people who "gets" you. After class I decided to be a proactive military wife. Instead of going home to an empty house and feeling sorry for myself, I called some of our friends announced that it was my birthday and wanted to invite myself over. Their daughters baked brownies, we had dinner and really a great night together. (They even put candles in the brownies - 2 for twenty and 3 for three - it was so adorable).

Right now Philip is at my parents' house. I think my dad is putting him to work in the field today. I instructed my parents to make him pick rocks so that he could understand the horrible experience I endured as a child. With my luck, Philip will be like "that was great!" and sympathy will be a lost cause forever.

Shannon, you are right on. I am scrambling around the house preparing it for his return on Thursday :) I sound like June Cleaver. . . but really, if he comes home to a house that still has boxes in it he's going to ask "what have you been DOING for the last four months girl?!"