Libby's Journal - January

January 1

I have kept journals ever since I was a little girl, writing in fat cursive in blank books adorned with unicorns that I hid under my mattress to keep my big sisters from snooping. In recent times, I have been writing on a computer, but of course, still keeping it private. Now, however, I am starting this public journal because Mona and I have decided that this is the year we are going to try to get me pregnant!

Yes, you have all heard me talk about this before, but now I'm actually going to do it -- or at least try. I've been researching pregnancy, and apparently you need a dude for that, so we have recruited my college boyfriend, Jack, to be our sperm donor!

I decided to start this online journal because it will simplify things. I have a lot of friends, including girls I've known since first grade. I have been keeping in touch with everyone via email, phone calls and occasional visits (except for those who now live on other continents). And so, when something happens in my life, I tend to repeat the same story to different people and lose track of who I told about what. I considered starting an email chain, but decided I want to chronicle this period of my life as a website so i can also have freestanding pages where i prattle on about mental health or theology, or talk about certain special people in my life -- Mona and Jack, of course, but also my mother and my closest friends, including Mona's hilarious sister, Molly, my partner in crime.

When I excitedly told Mona my fabulous idea to tell everyone on the internet all about our intimate personal lives, she wasn't too hot on it. When it comes to security, she is like the badass leader of a band of survivors in a post-apocalyptic movie, always on guard to fight zombies. I told her that obviously I would not use our full names or reveal our location -- not even which state we are in. The sticking point was that I wanted to use actual pictures of us, which Mona adamantly opposed. However, she came up with a great idea -- that I could "cast" famous actresses as if our story was being made into a Hollywood movie! I fell in love with the idea and suggested we each nominate the other's actress. I proposed Nicole Kidman for Mona because they both have that smoldering stare. However, as executive producer, I would tell Nicole's agent that before we start filming, she needs to hit the gym and lift weights until she's built like Linda Hamilton (who could have gotten the part if I had an actual hair & makeup department to turn her into a freckled redhead).

Mona was mulling over several options for me (there being, statistically, more blonde actresses than redheads). She was considering Carmen Diaz and Reese Witherspoon, but then we saw "Great Expectations," and Mona decided I absolutely must be played by Gwyneth Paltrow. I can see why she picked her because in some photos there is a resemblance, but Gwyneth is so elegant and graceful, and I'm pretty sure those are not the first few adjectives most people would use when describing me. But heck, she is a good actress, so I suppose she could tone down her naturally radiant Grace Kelly vibes enough to pass for me.

Those decisions made, we mutually decreed that Jack would be portrayed by the rakishly hunky John Corbett from "Northern Exposure." Now, we're working on Molly. So . . . we'll just have to see how that idea goes.

Mona and I first talked about potentially one day having a baby together on our very first date -- because of course I brought it up. I had reached the point in my life when I didn't want to get emotionally involved with someone unless there was a chance she could be my True Love -- and so I had screening questions. If they didn't come up naturally during Date 1, then I'd try to work them in on Date 2. Things like: How do you picture your home life in five or ten years? Do you have a dog? Do you think you want kids someday?"

Normally, those questions would get asked and answered in restaurants and coffeehouses, but with Mona, things happened so quickly I had to conduct the job interview in bed during the rest between orgasms. But she passed, and we were off to the races romantically. We may have gone a bit too fast, though, and by "we" I mean me. So then there were "The Troubles" which is what we now call that period when she broke up with me for a while but then showed up on my doorstep in the middle of the night telling me she was sorry. It was like a rom-com but not as funny.

She had to answer the screening questions again, and this time it was an essay test. But she passed again, and we decided to just focus on whatever our relationship was going to become and not get ahead of ourselves. She told me again that she did want to parent a child someday, but that it was too soon in our relationship to talk much more about that. And I completely agreed, though I did blurt out that I wanted my ex-boyfriend to be our sperm donor so she'd have a whole year to get used to that idea. I had even talked to Jack about it before, that time we took six weeks to meander our way to Key West and back again in his van. It was just theoretical, of course, but I told him all the reasons why I wanted him to be the father of my child.

Mona wasn't sure how she felt about that, but once she got to know Jack, it was fine. They have developed a great relationship of their own these past few months. It is a blessing to see.

My life has been blessed in a lot of ways that I had nothing to do with. Demographically, I had the built-in advantage of being born a suburban American white kid in a stable, loving, financially secure home. Not that there's anything wrong with being born other colors in other parts of the world, but it's simply a fact that we upper-middle-class American white girls have it pretty easy. We get a lot of breaks, and I've never quite come to terms with that except to acknowledge that it is an unearned gift.

I had a happy, secure, carefree childhood and did not experience any childhood trauma, though my sisters did. Our father died when I was two, and I have no memory of him. But for my sisters, that loss was devastating because they were old enough to know that their dad had died suddenly in a car accident -- taken from their young lives without a hint of warning that such a thing could even happen. I was spared that experience because I was too young. And being the youngest, I was pampered and coddled by all.

Genetically, I lucked out as well in that I happen to have the kind of face and body that our society considers attractive -- even when I am making zero effort to look good. That can be a real power if you want to use it that way, and even if you are not trying to do so it just happens. I will not make you gag by bemoaning the burdens of being the cute blonde chick, but trust me there are disadvantages to being the female that every straight male in the room takes particular notice of. But that said, it's unquestionably also true that having people think you are attractive is mostly a built-in advantage in life.

And though I have had my hard times -- like having at one point given it sufficient thought to decide that carbon monoxide poisoning would be the best way to take yourself out -- I am aware that on the international scale of human suffering I did not really deserve to be suicidal. My problems were petty compared to what so many people on this Earth endure every day. For most of my life I blamed myself for my mental health issues before finally learning I had an actual chemical imbalance that can be moderated just by taking the right pill every day. A hundred years ago, I'd be the crazy aunt they keep locked in the attic. I am still a crazy aunt, of course, but I am a free-range crazy aunt who hardly ever has to get locked up.

I am lucky to have found my True Love and to feel totally secure in that relationship. And not only is Mona so perfect for me in all of the most important emotional ways, but she also happens to make lots of money. A year ago, we bought some land that is tucked away between the interstate and some wetlands where no one notices it is even here. The location is a secret, like the Bat Cave, but I will give you a hint. When you are driving on the highway in a hilly part of the country, sometimes the highway cuts right through a little mountain, and from the road, all you see is a sheer limestone wall where the cut was made. But if you look way up to the top of that wall, some 30 or 40 feet, you may see a wire fence along the top and beyond that a dense growth of woods. That's where we live. It is seven or eight square miles, and some of it used to be a farm, but most of it has always been woods. And if you climb up through the pines to the very top of the hill, you reach that wire fence and can look down and see the traffic.

When Mona and I first met, I was doing graphic design for a little web company (where I met both Andrea and Dana before they were a couple), but a year or so later it went out of business and I got laid off. Although I had been doing really well for a couple of years, I got myself all stressed out over trying to find a job, and I had what we call in the mental health biz "an episode." By this point in our relationship, I had, of course, already explained to Mona that I am bipolar and am pretty good on medication but that now and then things get out of balance and some stressful event in life becomes a catalyst and off I go to Crazy Town. So she knew enough to recognize what was happening, but she had never witnessed it before.

In my anxiety, I was convinced she was going to leave me now that she'd seen me this way. And after all, a dark part of my brain kept reminding me, she did leave me once before.

But not this time. She was completely committed to me now, mental warts and all. She just wrapped her strong arms around me and promised she would be at my side no matter what. My mom came down to help take care of me (as she had done many times), and their relationship became deeper as they watched over me, which was such a blessing to see. Anyways, I was fine in a few days and soon was back to normal (or what passes for "normal" with me).

In a weird way, I was kind of glad it happened when it did, so Mona would truly know what I am, and could decide to run for the hills. To her credit, she did not run. She promised me over and over that she was completely and unshakably committed to me and that I would just damned well be stuck with her forever. She also told me there was no real need for me to get a job unless I really wanted to because she made enough for us both. Plus, I had recently sold a couple paintings at an art auction, and why not just focus on that? So, that's what we decided, and not long after that, we bought this land.

Anyways, so now every morning she zips off down the driveway in her convertible, her flaming orange-red pony tail blowing behind her like a flag, and I have all of this space and all of this time. I feel a little guilty, but only a little. Mona loves her job, and she loves going into the bustling city and meeting people for lunch or conducting some important business deal at a trendy bar where all the cool kids go to network.

I like the city too, but not every day, and I don't like to rush. I'm sure some of you probably laughed just now when I said I don't like to rush because you have all seen me when I am revved up and doing six things at once while chattering away like a recording that is being played too fast. But that is my natural speed sometimes, and other days I climb in bed and drift. It works for me, but is not necessarily a good fit for most workplaces. I know that when I eventually have my baby, I will be kept pretty busy, but for the moment, I have lots of free time. I paint and I garden and I fix up the house and I write and I work on my other projects, but it is definitely a life of leisure, and I appreciate the gift of that.

As most of my friends already know, I am a naturist who enjoys the experience of being nude outdoors in all kinds of weather. Although I've always been open about this, still it is not like one can just do it when one feels like it. Most of my life I have made do with little patches of backyard or a balcony with privacy screening. And now I have all of this amazing space!

Our property is thousands of acres in size, and there is only one other house on it that is inhabited, which is the original Victorian house down by the road. It was in terrible shape when we moved in, but Mona sold that chunk to our friends, Margot and Jayne, who have done an amazing job fixing it up.

The highway, which we cannot see or hear unless we are at the very top of the hill, curves around our property and serves as a boundary for about two-thirds of the land. On the other side, there is a steep ravine that goes down to a creek and a protected wetlands area. Then we have some fencing, and at the driveway there is a big electronic gate that you need a keypad code to open. And, of course, I have my dogs. They may spend most of their time lounging, scratching and digging random holes in my gardens, but they can hear an unfamiliar sound a half-mile away and will leap up to go investigate.

So, every day, I have the liberty to just saunter outside naked without bothering to look to make sure no one is around. And instead of confining myself to some little patch of backyard, I have miles and miles that I can explore, and there is nobody here but me and Nature -- and She and I are pretty tight.

Right now, however, it is mid-winter and the Amazing Nature Girl's powers do have some limits. But I have had lots of fun testing those limits! For example, I have discovered that if it is just barely cold enough to snow and it's coming down in big fat flakes, then I can be comfortable naked outdoors for quite a long time, especially if I am getting some exercise like shoveling snow or hiking around the property. That's assuming I have decent shoes on, of course. Running barefoot in the snow is thrilling for 30 seconds or so, but then it quickly stops being fun.

Twice every day, no matter what the weather (well, almost), I walk a few hundred yards down our long driveway to the security gate -- in the morning for the newspaper and again in the late afternoon for the mail. I nearly always do this naked because it is less than a ten-minute walk down and back, and I can run it in probably two or three minutes, so heck, I can handle that in almost any kind of weather.

The mailbox is built into the gate and opens on both ends, so I don't have to actually open the gate. Our fence connects to the back of Jayne's house, so her back porch is inside the perimeter. She has encouraged me to drop by on colder days for a cup of tea (or something stronger) to fortify me before I make the wintery trek back up the hill.

Along the way, we have a number of Adirondack chairs and park benches scattered around the property wherever there is a particularly nice view. Whenever I pass them, I like to sit down for a minute, and I love the sensation against my skin whether the bench is hot or cold or wet or even covered in snow. Sadly, most people don't realize how nice it feels to put your bare butt on things. They are really missing out.

It's not so much that these experiences "turn me on" sexually (though there is a little of that), but mostly it is a great thrill sensually in a manner that transcends sex. That said, I must confess that when I walk through the snow naked down to the gate and then go to Margot and Jayne's house and knock on the kitchen door, and they open it and see me standing there naked on their back porch ... well . . . that specific moment is deliciously arousing to me -- especially if they have guests!

But only if those guests were told about me in advance. I do like having an audience, and I like people to be delighted by me being nude. Yes, I admit that, but I would not just thrust my nakedness on someone. It's a social contract between me and the people who have to look at me, and I am hyper-sensitive to that relationship. Lord knows there are a lot of people that I wouldn't want to see naked, and it takes a certain level of vanity to assume people want to see YOU naked. So anyways, I just need to be sure everyone is okay with it, and then I can relax and enjoy the experience.

* * * * *

January 7

Well, I have been wearing clothes a lot more lately because Jack is here for the next four or five days. "Whatever it takes," he says, channeling Michael Keaton in "Mr. Mom." He is referring to however many days it is until I am ovulating so we can try to get me knocked up. Quoting movie lines is actually one of the ways that Mona and Jack first bonded (back when they really didn't know each other and didn't entirely trust each other because both were being protective of me). As they started having conversations, it turned out that both of them are film buffs who absently quote lines from movies to serve as metaphors for whatever point they are making in the conversation.

Some are well-known lines like "you're gonna need a bigger boat," or "plastics," or "you should have seen the ocean in those days." Even I get those, but Jack and Mona will quote from more obscure movies and the other one will chuckle knowingly in their elite club of People Who Got That One.

When we were dating in college, Jack and I went to the movies a lot, and we always had to stay for the entire credits. Part of it, he said, was to show respect to all the hundreds of people who made this movie but aren't movie stars. But he also had a notebook and pen ready in his pocket and when he saw something interesting in the credits, he would scribble it down. And always, he would write down the names of the key grip and best boy of the movie.

Jack had a lot of the names memorized -- especially those that sounded funny or included a colorful nickname -- and he'd bring it up in an off-hand way when people who knew less than him were talking about a particular film. They would assume he had just made up a name as a joke, and after more beers were consumed, there would involve a wager -- which he would ultimately win. We didn't have the Internet yet, children, so the way they would resolve the bet was to pick up the phone and call the Public Library. And an actual librarian would answer the phone, usually within a few rings, and she would take your question seriously no matter how drunk you might sound on the phone. So when Jack's friends would call to ask who was key grip on "Casablanca" or "Taxi Driver" or whatever, the librarian would either put them on hold or call them back within the hour and she would have the answer. And of course, it would be whatever name Jack had written down before they made the call.

Jack is staying in our guest room this visit, but Mona told him he can take over the little cabin up on the hill if he wants. After all, if we are successful with our baby-making effort, then he would want to visit regularly, and this way he would have his own place. So this morning, the three of us hiked up the hill through the snow-shrouded pines, nearly to the top of the hill.

It's a little A-frame cottage that has no electricity but does have plumbing because it was built over an old stone spring cellar. I don't know much about geology, so I was surprised that there was a spring so far up, but apparently that is not uncommon. The groundwater just happened to work its way up through the layers of limestone to this spot where it comes out of the ground and flows down the hill in a little creek until it reaches the bigger creek below. Long ago, some farmer built the spring cellar to capture some of the water, and then later on someone else built a little house over it. In the kitchen sink there's a big green metal handle that you have to pump five or six times to get water to pour out the spigot, but it is beautifully clear and cool water from the spring. And there's a toilet and bathtub that drain into an old septic field that seems to be still working.

Jack loved the place as soon as he saw it. He walked around checking the structure and declared it to be sound. He grew up working construction with his dad, and even though he now has two college degrees, Jack makes his living doing carpentry work so he is completely capable of fixing the place up.

He has a house in another city where he has been living and working for the past few years, and that is about a three-hour drive from here. He can pretty much set his own schedule so he is blocking out one week a month to be here when I am ovulating.

On the way back to our house, we passed an oak tree growing alone in a pasture. Because it was by itself and did not have to share the sky with any other trees it had sent its limbs reaching in all directions.

"That's where we can build the treehouse," Jack said, and then he pointed out specifically which branches would support it and described where the ladder would be. I was touched because he is already thinking about our future child growing up. It made me love him even more than I already did.

January 9

So, we made our first "deposit" in terms of trying to impregnate me with the help of Jack and a turkey baster. He spent about five minutes in the bathroom with a coffee cup and then delivered it to our bedroom where Mona had me positioned upside down leaning against the headboard with my butt and legs up in the air against the wall.

Jack stood outside in the hall saying funny things through the closed door while I let my dress fall open and Mona used the turkey baster to suck up Jack's stuff and insert it into me. She joked with him about how come he didn't produce more than this, etc.

Then she was done, and I had to stay "in position" for a while to keep his little swimmers from falling out. Mona sent him downstairs to make some drinks to celebrate (I wasn't having anything alcoholic but we had fake champagne for me).

While he was downstairs I was still in position with my dress falling open and Mona started kissing me on my thighs and telling me about some "theory" that pregnancies are more likely to occur if the woman has an orgasm, and she was giving me a load of bull about this while kissing me and then she was Right There. I was worried about Jack coming back and finding us this way, but the door was still closed, and she is so very good at this, just the right touch with those magnificent lips of hers. And I came, not terribly quietly.

Then afterwards, Jack was doing "room service" at the door, and I tucked my skirt between my thighs to keep it from falling open, and then he was in the room passing out drinks and pretending he didn't hear what was going on.

In that position, of course, I couldn't drink anything anyway, but Mona took a sip of my fake champagne and blew it into my mouth, and it was very sexy and Jack was sitting on an easy chair next to the bed watching, and it fleetingly crossed my mind to "accidentally" let my skirt fall open, but I did not actually do that. It was just an oddly sexy situation, but not just sexy because I was also feeling this overwhelming emotion that I was now pregnant. That "the little swimmer that could" had made it through, and we had done it! I was euphoric and drunk without alcohol, and I loved these two people in the room more than anything in the world.

* * * * *

January 20

Molly is here! She's Mona's younger sister, and she is basically what you would get if a mad scientist combined me and Mona together. Molly looks so much like Mona that people often assume they are twins, but personality-wise, she is a lot like me. In fact, Mona says she was initially drawn to me because I reminded her so much of her sister. No, not sexually you pervert, but we just have similarly outgoing personalities. We both have a tendency to giggle, dance on public sidewalks and do cartwheels in the rain. However, she is not bipolar like I am, so although she is definitely effervescent she does not become crazy-manic the way I do.

We went down to the mailbox and then to Jayne's house. She was expecting us and invited us in for a proper tea, which warmed us up. Then we went back up the hill to my house but neither of us was ready to stop so we hiked up among the pine trees past the cabin that Jack is going to fix up. He was already gone, so he missed out on seeing two naked girls hiking in the snow.

We were getting cold so we ran down the hill and kept running all the way back to the house and that got us both warm again. We dared each other to make snow angels and so of course we both did and we were wet and shivery when we went inside. Mona clucked at us and declared us both crazy, but we know she absolutely adores that we are both crazy in this particular way.

Molly used to live about five hours away so we only saw her occasionally, but recently, she moved here to work on her master's degree. She had a college boyfriend that she moved out here with, but then they split up, and she is moving in with a group of women who live in one of the historic neighborhoods downtown. So now she and Mona can get together for lunch whenever they want, and Molly can come visit us here as well.

* * * * *

January 25

Among those who know about our pregnancy effort -- which is, let's see, carry the two, everyone -- we periodically get baby name suggestions. The other day Mona mentioned that a friend at work suggested "Claire." I told her I didn't think she'd like that because I once had a girlfriend by that name. She snorted and said it wouldn't matter to her if the name was the same, so long as I wasn't actually naming the baby after that person, which of course I would not be.

Claire

Claire was the artist chick from England with whom I had a brief romance a year or two before I met Mona. She was from Liverpool and talked just like the Beatles -- though she made sure everyone knew she had lived and worked in Paris before coming to the U.S.

This was not long after I wrecked my car and ended up in the psych ward, but that was also when I first got diagnosed with bipolar and was FINALLY on medication that was making a difference. I was still manic a lot, which I consider normal for me, and I had occasional days when I was depressed -- but I didn't go over the top in either direction.

I was still living in the college town where I met Jack, but he had graduated and was gone. I had dropped out after two years because I hadn't been able to focus well enough on classes. Now that I was on medication, I was thinking of taking classes again, but meanwhile, I was waitressing and posing for art classes. Most of the student work wasn't anything remarkable -- sometimes I couldn't even recognize myself. But there were a couple grad students who did great work and I got photos of a few I liked.

Claire was a well-regarded visiting artist that semester, and she picked me as her exclusive model. I felt pretty good about that until I realized that the deciding factor in her selection was that I was the only model with no pubic hair, which she considered more sophisticated. I am not actually "sophisticated" at all and simply have very little hair growing down there in the first place, so one day on a whim I shaved it all off in the shower. I decided I liked the look and feel, but if it had been more work, I probably wouldn't have kept doing it.

Claire also asked me to pose for her privately in her apartment, and it did not take long for those sessions to become sexual. I did not feel pressured to do that just because she was paying me to model. I was attracted to her -- though definitely not falling in love -- and was at a point in my life when I felt more confident and grounded than ever and was just enjoying the moment.

When her semester was over, Claire was going to another visiting artist gig at a different college about three hours south. She asked me to go with her -- to "continue our work together" -- and I agreed since it wasn't really very far and I could just come back if I wanted to.

So I modeled for her and others at a new college, and that's where I met Jayne, who was also a model. I was living with Claire but began to tire of the relationship. She was supportive of me as an artist, which I appreciated, but did not remotely consider me a peer. I could tell that to her I was just a student with middling talent that she was encouraging because, after all, I was sleeping in her bed.

Sometimes she would invite her academic friends over and pretend to paint me as an excuse have me be nude, but I noticed that at these sessions she would put me in slightly more explicit poses than I had come to expect at art schools. I didn't mind that because it was fun and sexy, and it did not occur to me until later that Claire thought she was asserting her dominance by "making" me go naked and open my legs in front of these people and then hardly painting me at all. She didn't realize that I was actually enjoying that experience -- and that if I hadn't been, then I would not have done so just because she told me to. I was feeling strong by this point and was just having fun. I didn't need her, and that actually made me the dominant one in the relationship. She just didn't know it yet.

The people who came to these little soirees were friendly to me, but in a bit of a condescending way. They and Claire would discuss highbrow matters and it was like being at some Victorian-era salon. Since I was just the model (who didn't even have a bachelor's degree), I was rarely asked my opinion in these discussions. Claire would treat me as her personal assistant, sending me to the kitchen to fetch tea or wine. Although I was mildly annoyed by this, I was thrilled to have the excuse to perform these menial tasks while nude.

This only lasted a couple of months and then Claire got an opportunity in New York and was preparing to leave. I was actually kind of relieved because I was getting tired of the relationship. But she thought I probably wanted to go with her so she vaguely promised that she would "send for" me after she got settled, but that it might take a while. I waved it off and said I didn't want to move to New York because it was too far away from my family and friends. That was the truth, but I also didn't want to go anywhere with her. She seemed surprised to realize that I wasn't as devoted to her as she had assumed.

After she left, I continued modeling at the college -- again getting photos of a few pieces I really liked -- and became closer friends with Jayne. We were both sort of in transition portions of our lives. She was close to graduation and in love with someone, and I was getting more stable on my medication and feeling ready to get an actual real job. For a brief but wonderful period, Jayne and I were roommates, but then when I got a job I moved across town close to my new job doing online graphics at that web design company I have mentioned. That's where I met Andrea and, through her, Mona.

Many of you have heard me pontificate about The Spirit and Serendiptiy (and if you have not, then you can read about it here). I like to believe that The Spirit led me to Mona through the use of an English woman named Claire who has probably forgotten all about me by now. In that sense, Claire was Athena and it didn't matter much in the long run that her intentions were little more than to have me pose for her paintings and sleep in her bed for a couple months. I still have one small original from that period, but Claire did at least 20 paintings of me -- most of them large nudes. Last I heard she was still in New York so maybe I am hanging in galleries and lofts there even now.

* * * * *

January 29

Last year when we had the pool installed, we also added a sunroom as a transition space from the house to the pool, and it works fine for that.

It is unheated so it's not very usable in winter -- not by normal people, but the Amazing Nature Girl doesn't mind a little cold in exchange for sunlight. On sunny winter days, I am completely comfortable lounging out there for hours at a time even though it is barely 60 degrees. When it is summer, I don't have the patience to just lay there in the sun not doing anything, but somehow I can in winter.

Having the sunroom is actually important to me mentally because I have always been more susceptible to depression in winter. And this winter in particular is a little risky because I had to wean off of my bipolar meds while trying to get pregnant. So anytime it is sunny, I go out in the sunroom and soak up the sunshine.

Speaking of trying to get pregnant, no it did not work this time. My period came as normal, but I am by no means discouraged. I know this can take several tries and I have a very positive outlook.