Addendum: we are all just passing through

Grateful. I have said this word over and over again in the last six months as we went from watching my mother slip away to moving slowly back over to the place of grace where we part ways casually, assuming again we will see each other soon.  It's a strange space, knowing everything can change in an instant but still living in the grace we've been given.  Many acquaintances and friends have seen their loved ones on the precipice this year and they are mourning for the passing of their loved ones.  My father reminded me last week that we are all just passing through but it doesn't matter how long you get to stay, there is always someone sad to see you go.  There is just never a good time to say so long.

Keeps me coming back for more

*Cue predictable retrospective post*

It's nice to start the new year out clean and organized, launch into a new year as your most ideal 'you.'  I won't be starting this year that way and I'm actively working to not freak about it.  In a few hours it will be 2012.  Ok then.  Since this isn't a Disney movie, nothing magical happens at midnight, I will just hopefully already be in bed.  I don't have to resolve to start or stop anything, I don't have to set goals.  I realized that part of why I don't set goals for fitness is I don't want a finish line, a number to achieve from which to advance and retreat.  I just want to keep getting stronger and feeling better.

This was one of those years that reminds me of how life can surprise.  There was darkness, uncertainty, and struggle in this year that at times made me feel like I'd seen all I wanted to see in this life.  But there was also intrigue and that's what keeps me coming back for more.  What I know of next year already has its share of challenge and worry;  language testing, moving, transporting Baloo overseas, wild dog encounters.  But the system has already started gearing up for my departure so while I remain in semi-active denial that this time next year I will have one Eastern European holiday season under my belt, that may well be the case.  The imagination station in me daydreams about a circumstance as random and unexpected as the circumstance I'm already in to rescue me from the things I most dread in the coming year.  Whatever happens I hope I can revisit the perspective of this year when obstacles in the coming year make me wonder if anything on the other side of the pain will seem worth the hassle.

Tumbleweeds

I think it's because I have nothing to say.  There was a time when the words came to me with the urgency of someone about to soil themselves.  These days, I don't hold on to thoughts long enough to expand on them once I can write them down.  I sit down to write and fall asleep.  I censor myself.  This is mine and I can do whatever I want but sometimes the adage 'you should always tell the truth, but the truth doesn't always need to be told' applies.  I don't want to create something here that I have to deal with out 'there.'  This is supposed to be my room; the place I can leave underwear on the floor and coffee cups on the nights stand and it only bothers me.  But it's not my room because I made it with glass walls and the act of observing changes the observed.

It's New Year's Eve again.  What. a. year.  Again I am tempted to venture out into the noise to confirm again that it's not my scene.  In an ideal world, I would meet up with some folks and hang out with them long enough to germinate a post.  Being in places I don't want to be brings that out in me.  I just want to escape somewhere and write.  I would leave well before midnight and hang out in my bed under the electric blanket and bring in the New Year writing about the passing one.  In an ideal world.

Maybe I'll see you tonight.  One can hope.

Self portraits at unflattering angles

I have a picture of IBC and me taken the weekend he invited me and his friends to his family's cabin in West Virginia.  A few years back he asked for a copy of the picture and I told him I didn't like how I looked in the picture.  His response, 'I know what you look like.'  No matter what the camera said on that day, at that angle, in that light, IBC knew what I looked like to him.  

This blog is a collection of self portraits at mostly unflattering angles.  They are not the best of me or of my experiences.  They are me, but they are like the pictures you take of someone while they are eating or somewhere on the way to a smile, they are on either side of a normal potentially flattering picture but that particular mouth-wide-open moment isn't how they go about their daily life looking.

My life is near perfect as is.  If I am honest, I don't really envy or desire anything my friends have.  I know their lives have their own specific burdens and that each of our lives have very few truly idyllic moments.  I find most of mine are sans people.  Sunsets, sunrises, beautiful moons, autumn foliage, leaves crunching, brisk sunny days, naps in the sun, a burst of creative energy, leaving something good behind, waking up with no pain, a great cup of coffee, having nowhere to be, figuring out something mechanical.

Watching babies or animals sleep or observe the world rates right up there in my idyllic moment index as well.  I could watch Baloo sleep or sniff the air all damn day.  The idyllic moments with people are the happy accidents of life.  The time my girlfriends surprised me with a visit, the marathon lunch I had with a dear friend, screaming tears of laughter with my brother and best friend from college during a time of great sorrow, playing Wii with my Mom and Dad, that random trip to Panera and Best Buy with my Dad where we listened to Coldplay, all the random e-mails and phone messages my Dad sends on a whim when he's thinking about me, my Mom playing with my hair.

This moment, with the sunlight streaming through the blinds and resting on my hands, dog napping with one paw extended on the periphery of my monitor, this is a recipe for a sun nap.  On my date with the married man, we were talking about how we both liked being alone surrounded by people.  It's funny when two people talk about how much they like not being with other people but people who feel that way understand.  I hear the world outside so I know I'm not alone but I'm very glad to be left alone.

On dating

So I love that e-Harmony is using real people in their commercials.  Real people.  Like 'Hmm, I can see why you might be single' real people.  Makes me feel better about not being on the internet.  These are the people who made the cut to be a part of a nationwide ad campaign for their service.  So yea....internet dating hiatus still in effect.  Thank you e-Harmony.

I have a sexy walk aka my week in review

Sexy Walk

At least according to my language instructor who dropped that random compliment on me earlier this week.  Who knew?  I certainly didn't.  I don't know if this is one of those cultural things but no one has ever said anything about my walk before. She also told me some months back that she thought I was pretty.  I don't get it.  I know she's a unique person with very specific and unconventional views on a lot of topics but in cases like this, I'll take it.  Especially because this week I started to suspect that I may indeed be a....

Bitch

I don't know though.  It may be that I have a man's personality which tends to be more direct and less emotive.  I don't like to get distracted with how I feel about problems, I like to focus on solving them, extracting myself from the situation, or getting over it.  Problem solved, problem staying solved.  Love it.  Let's move the fuck on.  I have feelings, crushes, irrational thoughts, blues, despair.  I have volumes of terrible poetry and aimless blog posts on these things.  I'm not a robot.  But I've really moved away from talking with friends about these things.  Lots of reasons but chief among them is the basic human condition; a homeless man does not seek the ear of a rich man to commiserate on his condition; a fat person does not want to flesh out their body confidence issues with a skinny person, even if they used to be fat or poor or whatever you are that you don't want to be.  If you want to talk at all, it won't be with those people.  On balance the best ears for discussing problems without solutions (if you don't have a blog) is a guy.  They usually say something like 'that fucking sucks, that guy/girl is a d-bag, sorry that happened,' and then we laugh.  They don't conduct follow up questioning, I can not remember a time they asked about my feelings, and they show they care by making me laugh.  But in general talking about my problems (real or perceived) doesn't usually make me feel better, it makes me feel worse.  But that's just how I feel about *my* feelings.  A topic of moot discussions at best and an irritating distraction at worst.  But that's probably because I am also...

Militant

I don't have the energy for lots of things to be important to me.  Like how someone I do not know or care about feels about me.  I don't need people to like me, I just want them to know I am competent.  When I get amped about something it's usually when I think someone is treating me like I don't know what I'm doing or they clearly don't know what they are doing and it impacts me or someone/something I care about.  I don't want someone to dislike me but I don't control how other people feel me so I actively try not to worry about it.  I know my intention, I know what I mean, and I know that communication is fraught with misunderstanding no matter how well I do it.  I also believe that time on target tends to increase understanding of motives and intention.  Lastly I believe in the adage, 'show, don't tell.'  So no, I don't want to go to happy hour or dinner at the boss' house. I don't want to be friends. People get it twisted when they think you are friends.  Let's be what we are first; co-workers.  If we end up friends, great, if not, great too.  Maybe it's easier for me to feel that way because I have very low threshold for....

Socializing

It. is. exhausting.  Once in a while I buy a random trash magazine that I started reading in the check out line at the grocery store.  You know, the ones with '5 Sexy Moves You Can Try Tonight!' (with the boyfriend I don't have), '10 common diet mistakes,' and endless quizzes to tell me who I am and horoscopes to tell me when to ask for that raise and which Hollywood men I'll never meet have compatible star signs.  There was some quiz in the back about what kind of party girl I was.  I scored 'Sorta Standoffish' and was warned that I had no idea what kind of bitchy vibes I was unintentionally sending off.    I'm actually pleased if the vibe comes across as bitchy instead of terrified.  Makes me feel less vulnerable.  This was a revelation to me when I was 25 because I didn't know that my shyness and dislike of socializing in large groups came across as stuck up.  Now, I just avoid it when I can and roll with it when I have to.  I probably won't make friends at the party but if I do, it will probably be with someone who also does not want to be there.  Within 30 seconds of conversation commencement, I'm trying to figure out how to end it gracefully and go be by myself somewhere before I'm pulled out the dance floor or offered a shot or anything else that prolongs interaction with people I don't know (and reflexively don't trust).

So this week, I'm a pretty, militant, bitch with a sexy walk.  Not bad, not bad.

Junk Mail

This is filler, junk mail until I come here again with more intention and less anger. I've been so intensely angry the last few days that I can't even have a normal conversation without descending into a tirade of expletives and empty threats. I am outraged and exhausted with rage. I want incompetence to be punishable by death. I want people to feel they are literally taking their own life into their hands when they are fucking with the substance of other people's lives. But who would want to work for government then, right? Where would we be without a disenfranchised and disinterested clerk at the DMV, Social Services, every other government office we need to navigate the hoops we are charged with jumping through if we want to be law abiding citizens? Complete and utter bullshit. Instead of thinking about the holidays, I'm busy adding people to my 'dead to me (and kind of wish they didn't exist)' list. Open letter to the unethical fuckers I'm dealing with right now: In my version of It's a Wonderful Life, people would be getting paid, no one would arbitrarily dick around with my money and a competent person would be doing this job instead of you. Every time a bell rang, another incompetent person would be replaced by a competent one. It would be a wonderful life indeed. You would be homeless and yours would not be a sad story of a person down on their luck, you would very much deserve your station in life because you are not smart and you lack moral conviction and common sense. You are awful. Just awful. I feel I am really really close to completely flipping my shit at work...baby Jesus help me.