Natives who beat drums to drive off evil spirits are objects of scorn to smart Americans who blow horns to break up traffic jams.
-from a book from another book by an inscrutably wise person who I admire
Tuesday, September 30, 2008
Sunday, September 28, 2008
Let's reiterate
I am struggling to find words to express my current state, and I am sitting at my friends computer torn between socializing and expounding, between developing deeper bonds with the outside world or exploring a deeper bond with myself.
I want to iterate, although there is no re there as I am certain I have not yet made this clear with anyone on the blogosphere... I am by no means thinking I will find 'the one' on match. Mostly because I still technically have feelings for someone who is not on match, someone who I think is safe to call a peripheral friend, whose friendship I still want to take to another level, of friendship at the least, and life-long companionship at the most, but as mentioned before, neither of these things are happening and rather than become overly attached and wasting time longing or contemplating and being stuck in my head playing and re-playing each of our interactions, I would like to focus on my own self and the matter of courage.
Courage to live outside of where I've been comfortable-stretch the boundaries of comfort and see where it takes me.
In light of this I have made a new promise to myself to challenge myself to do something outside of my comfort zone each week. Something that falls in line with the core of who I am and what I am passionate about. I am passionate about the Faith, about music and movement, about volleyball, children, relationships and nature. I am not comfortable making certain transitions or functioning at a weakness in front of others. I am not comfortable feeling vulnerable, but I recognize that sometimes the vulnerability is the very thing that one needs on occasion to carry you to the next stage of life....
So I joined match in order to practice at engaging in new interactions with people, practice at saying no and being said no to, practice at being honest and not compromising, of not being so excited at being noticed that I let that guide me rather than what I want and deserve and what feels right. And, not to mention, too keep from getting too weepy over the one that I would prefer. Subsequently, since he is the measure against which all others are set, my standards are very high and the last few interactions have been fairly simple to engage in....people are being really sweet and nice in rejection. Perhaps later I can blog more specifically but I am being unsocial at the moment.
I also decided I need to start singing in front of people, no matter how bad I sound. So I did karaoke this weekend, and not safe karaoke at a friend's house surrounded by friends, but at a crowded bar surrounded by strangers, all of whom could seriously blow, I am not kidding. And I did not have to be drunk to do it- in the past when I drank, I needed the liquid courage to sing OR dance. It has been a SLOW journey in that, to dance and now....this, in front of anyone without the aid of substance.
This coming week I am not sure what it will be, of what I will do that is brave and uncomfortable....well I have some ideas. But breaking it out is what I am all about. Woot.
I want to iterate, although there is no re there as I am certain I have not yet made this clear with anyone on the blogosphere... I am by no means thinking I will find 'the one' on match. Mostly because I still technically have feelings for someone who is not on match, someone who I think is safe to call a peripheral friend, whose friendship I still want to take to another level, of friendship at the least, and life-long companionship at the most, but as mentioned before, neither of these things are happening and rather than become overly attached and wasting time longing or contemplating and being stuck in my head playing and re-playing each of our interactions, I would like to focus on my own self and the matter of courage.
Courage to live outside of where I've been comfortable-stretch the boundaries of comfort and see where it takes me.
In light of this I have made a new promise to myself to challenge myself to do something outside of my comfort zone each week. Something that falls in line with the core of who I am and what I am passionate about. I am passionate about the Faith, about music and movement, about volleyball, children, relationships and nature. I am not comfortable making certain transitions or functioning at a weakness in front of others. I am not comfortable feeling vulnerable, but I recognize that sometimes the vulnerability is the very thing that one needs on occasion to carry you to the next stage of life....
So I joined match in order to practice at engaging in new interactions with people, practice at saying no and being said no to, practice at being honest and not compromising, of not being so excited at being noticed that I let that guide me rather than what I want and deserve and what feels right. And, not to mention, too keep from getting too weepy over the one that I would prefer. Subsequently, since he is the measure against which all others are set, my standards are very high and the last few interactions have been fairly simple to engage in....people are being really sweet and nice in rejection. Perhaps later I can blog more specifically but I am being unsocial at the moment.
I also decided I need to start singing in front of people, no matter how bad I sound. So I did karaoke this weekend, and not safe karaoke at a friend's house surrounded by friends, but at a crowded bar surrounded by strangers, all of whom could seriously blow, I am not kidding. And I did not have to be drunk to do it- in the past when I drank, I needed the liquid courage to sing OR dance. It has been a SLOW journey in that, to dance and now....this, in front of anyone without the aid of substance.
This coming week I am not sure what it will be, of what I will do that is brave and uncomfortable....well I have some ideas. But breaking it out is what I am all about. Woot.
Friday, September 26, 2008
a new word
urglebeckle adj. The feeling of extreme discomfort following an incident of an inexplicable outburst of some sort in front of an individual for whom you hold a torch.
Often exemplified by the feeling of not fitting within your own skin and accompanied by loud, verbal outbursts to no one in particular, regardless of if one is alone or completely surrounded by strangers. Can last for up to four hours and recur in the early morning upon waking, often then followed by a smack to the head and a groan, and then by the choosing of playing really loud distracting music no matter what the neighbors might think.
Often exemplified by the feeling of not fitting within your own skin and accompanied by loud, verbal outbursts to no one in particular, regardless of if one is alone or completely surrounded by strangers. Can last for up to four hours and recur in the early morning upon waking, often then followed by a smack to the head and a groan, and then by the choosing of playing really loud distracting music no matter what the neighbors might think.
Thursday, September 25, 2008
i did the thing i meant to
i thought about it some more and let it settle in and i still just don't want to ask someone out. maybe it's because my mom, in all of her feminist reverie* asked my dad out and now they are divorced. not because he or she did anything or are anything terrible, but because finally my dad had to admit-he just did not love her. and i don't want to spend the next 30 years of my life with someone who says yes to me asking them out because i am basically a good person who they can also conceive to be attracted to. because that is not what i want in a life commitment with someone. and i believe that we all have this capacity to love mankind somewhere within us and sometimes it gets tied up with physical attraction and then we confuse that for romantic love. and i don't want confused, cop-out romantic love. i want the real thing. i want to be with someone because they were/are sooo amazed by who i was that they just wanted to be around me, get to know me and find opportunities to see me and be with me more.
and when it comes down to it, my crush, the person i think is amazing and i wish thought i was amazing in the same way, just isn't doing any of that. not asking me out, not trying to see me more, not even trying to learn more about me in any way when i do see him. and so i have to be done with that. sadly. or powerfully. you decide. he's so not into me. grr. makes me want to cry a little bit.
but i did the thing i meant to do months ago. not because i am desperate. although 5 years of singleness is certainly a motivation, but because i am at a point in my life where i think i can try something new and perhaps not be damaged or set back by it. i am not putting too much store in it for so many reasons, but i think it will at least serve to keep me detached, open, reflective and durable.
i joined match.com
we shall see if it leads somewhere. my dad-the same man who for years was convinced he was a man who preferred to stay at home and read the paper, has become a social butterfly and is more vibrant than he ever was all on account of a really wonderful lady he met on match. several others i know have also made some very positive connections. i would like to remain in the space of no expectation and view it as a distraction more than anything. but we shall see.
*ps i am an avid rip roaring feminist, proud of it, but i am not settled on man/woman relationships just yet, rolls to play, etc. i am not knocking a woman's right to ask a man out, but i am saying that sometimes our (man's and woman's) capacity to know ourselves is not always advanced enough to overcome certain aspects of human nature, thus clouding our ability to make choices that are, to say it bluntly, good for us. in other words, our desire for love and companionship can blind us a bit when faced with opportunity and instead of taking the time to ferret out the flaws or incompatible things, we focus on the good stuff until our hearts are irrevocably tied to someone who wasn't right for us to begin with, and therein lies the heartache. and i don't want that. i know i will get it because its part of life. but i want to try to avoid some things....
and when it comes down to it, my crush, the person i think is amazing and i wish thought i was amazing in the same way, just isn't doing any of that. not asking me out, not trying to see me more, not even trying to learn more about me in any way when i do see him. and so i have to be done with that. sadly. or powerfully. you decide. he's so not into me. grr. makes me want to cry a little bit.
but i did the thing i meant to do months ago. not because i am desperate. although 5 years of singleness is certainly a motivation, but because i am at a point in my life where i think i can try something new and perhaps not be damaged or set back by it. i am not putting too much store in it for so many reasons, but i think it will at least serve to keep me detached, open, reflective and durable.
i joined match.com
we shall see if it leads somewhere. my dad-the same man who for years was convinced he was a man who preferred to stay at home and read the paper, has become a social butterfly and is more vibrant than he ever was all on account of a really wonderful lady he met on match. several others i know have also made some very positive connections. i would like to remain in the space of no expectation and view it as a distraction more than anything. but we shall see.
*ps i am an avid rip roaring feminist, proud of it, but i am not settled on man/woman relationships just yet, rolls to play, etc. i am not knocking a woman's right to ask a man out, but i am saying that sometimes our (man's and woman's) capacity to know ourselves is not always advanced enough to overcome certain aspects of human nature, thus clouding our ability to make choices that are, to say it bluntly, good for us. in other words, our desire for love and companionship can blind us a bit when faced with opportunity and instead of taking the time to ferret out the flaws or incompatible things, we focus on the good stuff until our hearts are irrevocably tied to someone who wasn't right for us to begin with, and therein lies the heartache. and i don't want that. i know i will get it because its part of life. but i want to try to avoid some things....
Monday, September 08, 2008
Moving on up
I’ve been thinking for days about how to blog about the move. Wondering if I should talk about the process of cleansing that begins to happen but inevitably deteriorates into a frenzied throwing of things into boxes, with the half-ass promise to self to sort through it all later rather than leave it in the box for the next year or two. Or perhaps I could go over the way it feels to finally be free of living in a garden apartment, of how I did not realize how successfully I had managed to ignore the feeling of oppression of waking up below ground on a level where at any given time a person could have easily pried open a window, crawled in, and taken advantage of me and my things. My windows were numerous, easily-openable, and big enough for anyone to crawl through.
I could also dwell on the reason behind the move, the rodent issues and the fact that my landlord is giving me a bit of a deal that allows a soft move-since they are not filling my old place right away in order to do renovations. And I am ‘apparently’ getting a price deal to, although I have my reservations about that. But I have as much time as I need to pack and transition, and believe you me, I am taking it!
But instead of all that I want to just talk about how much time I have spent over the last two weeks sitting on the floor of either apartment, one right around the corner from the other, just staring. Staring at the floor, at the boxes, at my stuff-imagining it all nicely packed or nicely unpacked. Imagining the new things that I want to get-comforter, shower curtains, garbage bins, artwork. Trying to decide with my eyeball how much I will need to throw away and what I can make work and what I don’t want to make work. How much I wished by dint of desire alone, that everything that needed to be done would accomplish itself somehow. I was chatting with a friend about the things that were different about this move and he said, “Well, no matter how you slice it, moving is always a huge task.”
YES. It is. It totally blows. I stared at my things as if the pondering and planning inside my head would shorten the tasks of going through all the itty-bittys, and lighten the weight of each box of books I took from basement to second floor. As if it would somehow free me from the sweat and eliminate stubbed toes and fingers, scratches in skin and doors and walls and floors. But two-thirds of the way into my transition, I’ve had to face reality and accept that my staring did not actually work. As action finally flooded its way into my limbs and I began to carry things and throw things and move things, time started to ease its way by me and I realized a task I set aside one day for would in fact take several. I don’t know why I am so insistently naïve about this. This is my 13th move in 12 years. In college I went home every summer and came back to a new apartment or dorm each time. I’ve been lucky that it has been three years since my last move. And I just helped a friend with her move so really there is no reason for me to have been so in denial. But here I am. It is what it is. I am excited to be done with the transition and therein lies my motivation at the moment. I just hope it holds long enough for me to avoid the throwing of things into boxes that stay there forever until the next move and the next long contemplation.
I could also dwell on the reason behind the move, the rodent issues and the fact that my landlord is giving me a bit of a deal that allows a soft move-since they are not filling my old place right away in order to do renovations. And I am ‘apparently’ getting a price deal to, although I have my reservations about that. But I have as much time as I need to pack and transition, and believe you me, I am taking it!
But instead of all that I want to just talk about how much time I have spent over the last two weeks sitting on the floor of either apartment, one right around the corner from the other, just staring. Staring at the floor, at the boxes, at my stuff-imagining it all nicely packed or nicely unpacked. Imagining the new things that I want to get-comforter, shower curtains, garbage bins, artwork. Trying to decide with my eyeball how much I will need to throw away and what I can make work and what I don’t want to make work. How much I wished by dint of desire alone, that everything that needed to be done would accomplish itself somehow. I was chatting with a friend about the things that were different about this move and he said, “Well, no matter how you slice it, moving is always a huge task.”
YES. It is. It totally blows. I stared at my things as if the pondering and planning inside my head would shorten the tasks of going through all the itty-bittys, and lighten the weight of each box of books I took from basement to second floor. As if it would somehow free me from the sweat and eliminate stubbed toes and fingers, scratches in skin and doors and walls and floors. But two-thirds of the way into my transition, I’ve had to face reality and accept that my staring did not actually work. As action finally flooded its way into my limbs and I began to carry things and throw things and move things, time started to ease its way by me and I realized a task I set aside one day for would in fact take several. I don’t know why I am so insistently naïve about this. This is my 13th move in 12 years. In college I went home every summer and came back to a new apartment or dorm each time. I’ve been lucky that it has been three years since my last move. And I just helped a friend with her move so really there is no reason for me to have been so in denial. But here I am. It is what it is. I am excited to be done with the transition and therein lies my motivation at the moment. I just hope it holds long enough for me to avoid the throwing of things into boxes that stay there forever until the next move and the next long contemplation.
tivo where are you?
yes its true. i am a little miffed about missing both Gossip Girl, (sadly I am not the least bit ashamed to admit this) and the Vikings v Packers game tonight.
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