The One... The Only... The Vieve

Zigzag

I feel all over the place. Happy one minute, crying the next. It's a little ridiculous, and difficult to manage. I'm so happy to be here, with all of the newness and food (mm, food) and gorgeous weather, and a good friend to stay with and show me around and keep me laughing. But he's leaving today for a camping trip, and so I feel sad about that. He'll be in Boston next month sometime, but that doesn't fill up the hole or make me feel any better at this moment.

So I'm on my own today, I don't know anyone else here who's in town and/or not busy with wedding stuff, and that scares me a little bit. Especially lately, I've been no good on my own. There are lots of things I'd like to do and see, and I can certainly keep myself busy, but I'm a little scared of...I'm not exactly sure what. Sadness, I guess. Bad feelings tailing me all day.

This city is a reminder, both of my recent past and potential nearby future. It's so full of meaning, it's been making the tears well since last night. I want to hold them back -- I don't want them to take over my vacation -- but I guess it's out of my control for the moment. All I can do is cry for a bit out on the couch while John and Bob sleep off last night's martinis, and then go forth for coffee and maybe morning buns from Tartine if I can find Guererro... And then I'll decide if I'd rather go to Berkeley or the Japanese Tea Garden, rather have pizza or Pakistani to eat, and so on.

I have a lot of choices to make, today and in the next couple of months. Not knowing makes me incredibly nervous. But it's also exciting.

First day

I am in San Francisco right now, tired and happy. Today my friend John took me up the coast to Muir Woods and Muir Beach, and we drove around and walked around and saw so many beautiful things. The weather was blue and clear and breezy and bright, and the air smelled like eucalyptus and redwoods. It was breathless beauty; I think my senses were a little overwhelmed. And there I was, sharing it with one of my favorite people in the world. Someone who I've missed so much ever since he moved here 2 years ago. Someone who I can relax with, let down my guard completely. I remember sitting in the car, looking over the hills as we wound around the twisty highway, thinking, I am so happy right now. This is all I need. And then quickly worrying about how I was going to capture this happiness, how it might be gone soon. And then, just as quickly, reminding myself, It doesn't matter. I'm happy right now.

Limitless

I'm up and starting my day, starting to pack, in my usual flitting, circular way. Decide I should drink some Emergen-C, go to the pantry, decide I should pack some Emergen-C, get my toiletries bag, start going through that, unpack that Target bag that has some toiletery items in it, see my new headphones and DVD in there, fight with the packaging on those, put the DVD away, plug the new headphones into my iPod, semi-pack my gym bag, go back to my toiletries bag, catch sight of the Emergen-C, decide I should drink some Emergen-C.

Oy.

What was I talking about? I'm a little distracted. Oh, right.

As I was making these perambulations, my head spinning off in a million different directions, I stopped for a minute and read a card I just wrote to someone. Which made me think about love, and how there are so many different people I do love. And I just keep adding more as I go along. More love, and more different kinds of love. And I have to imagine that I'll keep doing this, adding even more, until I die. I think there's plenty of room in my heart for everyone. It feels limitless. And there's something pretty amazing and beautiful about that.

Hope

I hope something does change for you, mystery man. Truly.

Free

I just set my vacation email message for work. I finished my copyedit that I've been bitching about (I swear, the only reasonable explanation is that this book was written by monkeys. Lobotomized monkeys. DRUNK lobotomized monkeys). Now I just need to find a damn FedEx drop-off that's open til 7 and pray that the copier doesn't mutiny.

I feel frazzled. But happy(ish).

Fangirl

This weekend I did something I've never done before: wrote a fan letter to an author. I've been reading Elizabeth Gilbert's Eat, Pray, Love (just finished it last night), and it resonated so deeply, I felt I had to thank her. So much of what she writes about, yearns for, struggles through, I have too. Her feelings about control, loss, love, food, beauty...I feel those too. It was like she had peeked inside my soul, dug into my convoluted little head, untangled it, and arranged it -- lucidly, intimately, playfully -- onto the page. When I read a description of herself -- "the planet's most affectionate life form (something like a cross between a golden retriever and a barnacle)" -- I laughed and sighed in recognition. When I reached the part of the story where she experiences enlightenment in India, and a wave of exasperation washed through me, the next paragraph began: "As a reader and seeker, I always get frustrated at this moment in somebody else's spiritual memoirs...". And there are too many other examples to write about here. But I read this book, and thought, "She gets it, and now I get it a little more clearly too." And that couldn't have come at a better time for me.

So, I felt I had to write and thank her. This is what I said:

I'm reading your book, "Eat, Pray, Love," and I wanted to say thank you for it. I'm in a difficult place in my life right now -- 30, yet another failed relationship, job I hate, not sure who I am or what I want or where I want to be. I've been crushingly sad and unhappy for a while now, particularly the past month. I'd already started to work my way through it, finding some lightness and hope and contentment, but reading your book has helped me to work out some of the kinks. Your story -- and beautiful, funny, intimate, engaging writing -- resonate in ways that are pretty incredible, and surprisingly helpful.

I feel like I'm not being very eloquent here, but I guess that's OK. I just wanted to say thank you.

I'm not sure if she'll ever read it, but I think that's OK too.

She's all growed up

Yesterday, my little sister got engaged. (OK, "little" -- she's 29.) Here's the ring I helped her fiance pick out last weekend:

Shiny!

Bliss

I was talking to my mother on the phone yesterday, and then got an email from my dad this morning, and they both told me the same thing: follow your bliss. (Yes, my parents, still hippies at heart.)

I said I would do that if I knew what it was. I think I do know, somewhere within me. But I can't quite access it yet. Or maybe I have accessed it, but I'm afraid to admit it to myself, because then what if I try and it doesn't work out? What if I fail? How crushing that would be. I think (I know) this is the wrong way to look at things, but that's the hitch. The snag. Like a cat's claw stuck fast on a tiny, stubborn thread in my favorite sweater.

I need some space to think about this. I need a break. I'm leaving for San Francisco and LA on Wednesday, and I'm planning to do things that make me happy. Laugh with friends. Stroll about. Eat eat eat. Explore. I'm hoping this break will help me see things more clearly. I won't push it, though. It'll come when it comes.

Worried

My friend Greg is very sick. After lung transplant surgery last year, he just had another surgery, and things aren't going smoothly. I'm so worried about him. If you can, please send good energy, prayers, thoughts, chants, whatever you can his way. He deserves so much goodness and healing, and he's been through so much.

Tattoo story

Someone saw the picture of my V on Flickr and asked me to submit a story to Tattoo Confidential, a web site where people tell the stories behind their tattoos: why they got them, what they mean. So I wrote a little something, which you can read here.

It really does remind me that I'm me. Maybe that sounds a little silly, but, damn, it's important.

Forewarned is forearmed

I'm droppin' trou at the drop of a hat. You have been warned.

Rescue

This morning, I went on a search and rescue mission for my car, which I left a ways up Mass Ave. last night. It is a gorgeous, unbelievable morning. Coolish, sunny, breezy, beautiful. So I had a really nice walk. I meandered, and took a bunch of pictures, and bought a donut from Verna's, and smiled.

I got coffee after I rescued my car, and chatted a bit with the coffee guy. He said something about the weather, about how it's supposed to turn cloudy and rainy, but he thinks the sun is going to hold out. And as he was saying this, I realized I didn't care. It didn't matter.

I said, "It's beautiful right now." And I walked back to my car, feeling happier than I have in a really long time, giggling and grinning and eyes welling with grateful tears.

V is for...

V is for victory.
Veritas.
Vim.
Vinegar.
Verisimilitude.
Viper.
Vamoose.
Value.
Vert.
Virtue.
(And yes, Pete, vagina.)

V is for Vieve!

When it rains, it pours

And I ain't talkin' about the weather.

Symbols

I've been thinking about my wayward bike this week. Besides the fact that getting something stolen sucks, regardless, especially something that's expensive to replace, I've been thinking about why it upset me so much. Riding my bike around the city is something that I've been wanting to do for a while now. It scares the bejeezus out of me, even thinking about it. All those cars whooshing past me, obviously ready (and eager) to run me down the second I slip up, make some newbie biking mistake. It feels incredibly risky and scary, and that's partly why I wanted to do it. To prove to myself that I could face a fear like that, and overcome it. So biking was something bigger than fun exercise and a better, non-gas-guzzling mode of transportation. It was a way to prove something to myself. To overcome a fear. To succeed at something. And now the mechanism for that triumph has been taken away from me, damnit.

I did manage to go on one bike ride, though, a really fantastic one. I rode a little bit on the street, and over 20 miles on the bike path. I went with someone important to me, and I think it might have been the last time we felt so easy and natural together. (Well, I did, anyway.) It was exhilerating and joyous, and I felt a sense of triumph and calm, something I don't feel very often. It's a great memory. So I guess I did prove something to myself already. I can do it. My bike disappearing didn't make that disappear.

I've been thinking about another symbol today. Something cah-razy. Not really crazy, but something my mother would be very upset with (sorry, Mom). And I'll have to take my pants off for it. And that's all I'm gonna say.

Scholar

I managed to get two things crossed off my list today. And added one. Oh well.

I think I'm going to look for a dress tonight for the wedding I'm going to. I'm a little fixated on getting something strapless, and maybe a turquoisey color. I have a vague picture of the shoes I want to get, too, but I guess I shouldn't be inflexible about it. That's something I do a lot: get an idea in my head and don't let it go, even though it's pretty clear I'm not going to get it, and even though there's this other, equally nice thing I definitely could have. And then I end up fucking myself, and utterly frustrated.

I sure am learning a lot about myself lately. Woo?

Wholeness and booty-shakin'

At this moment, I feel heartsick and happy at the same time. Also a little hopeful. (The letter today is H.) It's a strange feeling, but there's a wholeness and completeness to it that's also pretty amazing.

I realized last night that I'm really excited for this wedding next week in San Francisco. I'm excited about the whole trip, but I'm excited about the wedding because there will be DANCING! Yay, dancing! Tipsy, slightly drunken dancing, where everyone is a little looser than usual and shakes it like they just don't care. And if someone I know even just a little bit is one of those people who "don't dance," then I will drag them out there anyway, and they will end up having fun, because I'm pretty good at it and I'll lead, and I don't mind so much if they step on my toes, so they don't have to worry about anything. I'm also happy to witness two lovely people who I care about deeply make a very important commitment, but, yeah. DANCING! I didn't realize until yesterday how much I've missed it, and how much I need it in my life right now.

Pruney

My roommate has been in the bathroom for 40 minutes. He was in the shower for 25. What could he be doing in there? Even I, Queen of Products, am only in there for 20 minutes. Dude doesn't even have any hair.

Sigh.

Oh, wait. Ew. I just thought of something. Ew ew.

I wish I hadn't thought of that.

Tonight tonight

Tonight was a pretty good night. I went to Redbones for dinner with a friend, and we sat at "the booth," right facing the open kitchen. It was on the toasty side, but we got to see the huge stacks of ribs above the grill, and the meat and fried balls of deliciousness being made. The cooks passed us our food, and they gave us free catfish fingers and BBQ shrimp and an extra rib.

We talked about bad dates, and bestiality, and how our parents met. And other things. I forgot about a lot of the things that I'm finding intolerable right now, and even thinking about the sad things I'd rather not, well, it wasn't so bad.

I walked home in the cool spring air, listening to Neutral Milk Hotel, and tried not to step on the cracks.

Namesake

My coworker just had a baby girl today, and they named her Genevieve. Even though it didn't really have anything to do with me -- they probably just liked the name (we're friendly, but not close) -- I was touched. It made me cry a little bit, too. I won't get into all of the reasons here.

I'm kind of excited to meet her, this new Genevieve. The Vieves will inherit the earth, just you wait.

Roger

From the Double Team Psychic Dream:

This is truly a great time for you to do what Cancers do best: nurture. But we want you to nurture yourself -- perhaps not your specialty. And, get this, we want you to nurture yourself not only through your feelings of helplessness but also through the exciting feelings of beginning that you're feeling alongside helplessness.

Paralyzed

The list of things to do is so long, I can't get any of it done.

Trying to work, trying to stay calm, trying not to get sucked into a crazy spiral.

I keep getting distracted though. Wanting to connect, but not knowing how. Realizing that past connections I thought I had were never really made. Realizing that I knew so little. Realizing that I didn't really register. And that hurts, but I know it doesn't help to talk about it anymore. I don't think it was my fault, or anything to do with me. (But maybe I'm wrong, and it was, and that sharp little part keeps jabbing me and drawing blood.)

The sun is so beautiful, but I'm having a hard time enjoying it.

Good intentions

It's almost 10pm, and I'm still not in bed. I haven't even taken my bath yet, or eaten dinner.

However, I did just see a possum outside. It kind of freaked me out.

Progress

Well, I cleared the pile of worn-but-maybe-not-dirty clothes off of my bed, and I unearthed a Sunday Globe from three weeks ago. I think I meant to do the crossword puzzle. Oh well.

I also made my bed, which I've been meaning to do for more than a week now. I hate doing it -- particularly the part where I wrestle and tussle with the damn comforter cover for 10 minutes -- and I always put it off. Like cooking, it's one of those things I have a hard time doing for myself, even though the results are always worth it. It will be nice to sleep in fresh, clean sheets tonight.

I also folded the clean laundry that's been sitting there since Friday, and got all of my dirty laundry off the floor, and emptied the box of drugstore.com stuff I got about a month ago. I still need to vacuum, and clear out some more shit, but I think that can wait for another day.

Time soon to take a bath, and then feed myself and snuggle into bed.

I just realized that I haven't cried at all, all day. I think this is the first time I've been able to say that in at least a month. I guess that's progress.

Tonight

Tonight I'm going to:

clean my room
make my bed
do some laundry
take a hot bath
drink only one beer
go to bed by 10
not eat any potato chips (particularly not in bed)

We'll see how I do with this list.

I'm feeling a little more cheery, but also really tired and tense and fuzzy-headed. Maybe if I get enough sleep tonight, I will feel super tomorrow. It could happen.

I'm feeling better, but I still could use a warm body and a big hug.

Now I just need someone to make my bed...

Someone I haven't seen in maybe 2 years just showed up at my office to bring me flowers. We caught up a bit, talked about our respective troubles. It was a really really nice, kind of surreal, completely unexpected surprise. I'm a little tongue-tied.

It's nice to know I matter, and that I'm worth braving the puddles for. It's nice to know that people care about me. I'm realizing that's what I've been needing most.

Pleased to meet you

Looking at my site statistics thingy, besides revealing some excellent search strings, which I already wrote about, it seems like some new people have found this, from somewhere out there on the great wide interweb.

Hi there. How are you? Good? Great.

I just wanted to mention that, you know, I'm not always this gloomy. I'm always a little neurotic, and often introspective. But the past month has been a big ol' shit sandwich. (Or shit cake. Whatever.) So the writing here has been therapeutic, and not very entertaining or funny, for the most part. It's been an SOS, too. A "help me goddamnit I'm drowning" kind of thing. So I've been doggy paddling away, and using this to help distract me from how fucking tired I am, and how much work sucks right now, and how much it hurts when someone you thought really really liked you decides that you're really...eh, whatever. And you obsessively try to remember compliments given that weren't somehow fished for, and can't really think of any, and start wondering why half of that person's Flickr favorites are pictures of girls but you're not one of them, and a billion other doubts and realizations that probably shouldn't be discussed here but that, as you think of them, scoop out chunks of your self-confidence like an evil psychic melon baller, and then you start wondering what the hell is wrong with you, and you must be utterly unattractive and completely unlovable and and...

Whew, tangent. Sorry. So yeah, shit sandwich. Gloomy and unfun. The point is, I don't want you to get the wrong impression of me, whoever you are. I'm more than what I've mostly been writing about for the past few weeks. This is only a small part of me, which has temporarily swelled to hideously gigantic proportions.

Then again, if you didn't have the sense to know that without me telling you, maybe I shouldn't care what you think anyway.

Vampiric

I've been in a good mood all morning. I was in a pretty good mood last night, too, eventually. But then I get to my office, and the building smells like cat pee because the roof leaks whenever it rains, and the damp soaks into the carpet, releasing malodorous fumes. And I had to send a bitchy email to someone who promised me something would be ready a week ago but so didn't deliver. And I have a crappy copyedit to work on, where on almost every page I've had to write a comment like "I don't understand what is meant by this" or "Does this make sense?" It's giving me fits, but I really need to finish it in the next couple of days.

So I feel the strangely giddy good cheer ebbing out of me. And then I start thinking about a very vievish email I sent last night but never got a reply to, and so I start questioning how it was taken and whether I do actually have those excellent qualities I proclaimed to have. So I'm feeling a little bit like a lonely freakish dumbass right now, even though I know I shouldn't, because it's probably due to the usual reticence, and not anything to do with me. But then I start thinking about the errands and other tasks I need to attend to, which I've put off and felt OK about ignoring, because I've felt so awful lately, so, you know, I'd given myself permission to take a break. But now that I feel kind of better, I should take care of them, but I still don't want to, and now I feel guilty.

I'm my own worst enemy. Well, that and my cat pee office. But I'm still feeling better than I did yesterday.

These are a few of my favorite things

New search strings have appeared on my site usage statistics thingy!

"advice life"
Oh, honey. Look elsewhere. Seriously.

"beedee bras"
Um...huh?

"bound to dentist chair"
Kinky and creepy.

"concealable penis weights"
I don't know what to say about this one, except that it is awesome.

Dewy

One good thing has come out of this miserable weather: my skin has never been better. It loves all of the cool humidity. It's dewy. Kind of glowy. And it feels soft and nice. My hair is happy too.

I feel better today.

Alone

No one is in my apartment but me right now. With three roommates, this is hard to come by. I kinda want to dance around my apartment naked. Maybe I will.

What I want right now

Sunshine
A warm body
This t-shirt
A real dinner
A clean room and a freshly made bed
Flowers
Some money in my checking account
A new bike
A big hug

Dumping ground

I've been dumping a lot of shit on people lately. They don't want it, and I don't blame them. I don't want it either. And I wonder what I expect or what I want to get out of it. Partly just to unload it from my mind a bit. Partly to get some words of reassurance in return. To know people care that my life feels like a shit cake with poo frosting right now. But I'm not really getting what I want. Seems like I don't handle this stuff the right way. I'm not sure what to do about this.

Sometimes I wish that I could just ignore stuff like this, like I did before. Don't talk about it, don't think about it. Pretend everything's just fine. But I don't really want to get to the point where I can't do anything but sleep and watch TV and don't leave the house for two weeks. So I guess this is better.

Sleep eating

Last night, I made a bag of microwave popcorn for dinner. I ate not quite half of it, and then I felt a little full and sick, so I put it aside on the table next to my bed. I got up this morning, and looked at the bowl, and it was more than two-thirds empty. I don't really remember eating more of it. I guess I was sleep eating.

Darkness

I was just out walking in the rain, listening to Will Oldham, "I See a Darkness."

And then I see a darkness
Oh no, I see a darkness
Do you know how much I love you
Cause I'm hoping some day soon
You'll save me from this darkness

Lordy.

Dumbest

I forgot to mention that I have beer. And also some champagne, if you'd prefer. So no need to bring booze. I still want the ice cream, though. And maybe some ripe pears.

Sigh.

Dumber

Hi there. I know you're going to show up any minute now, so I just wanted to add that some ice cream would be really great too. Any kind that has chocolate in it. Thanks.

Dumb

I wish someone kind and comforting would show up at my door with hot soup and a movie, and snuggle up with me for a few hours. Damn it.

Relax, it isn't fair

Seems like everything's making me cry this morning. Not sure whether it's the unceasingly grey, Chinese water torture weather; the expansive, confusing dream I had last night, featuring people and themes I'd rather not think about at all right now; the holiday, which is poignant to a degree that I didn't expect. I spent time at the gym, ran, biked, crunched, stretched, had some alone time in the sauna, and fought back tears every 5 minutes. My head feels heavy, my heart feels heavy. Everything's heavy, and grey, and I feel like I'm being slowly smothered. I feel faded, almost invisible. Fighting with myself about whether I should just give into it, or try to do something to cheer myself up.

Muse

Apparently, my recent writings have inspired a t-shirt design.

(I'm not being egocentric and just assuming it's about me. Lookee here.)

I don't know how I should feel about this.

Strangedays

Today has been strange. I helped someone this morning with an errand that made me feel giddy and odd and wistful. I drove through huge puddles that made something in my car ominously squealy. I drank too much coffee. I bought some new clothes. I thought about how I wish I still had my leopard print umbrella--it withstood a winter of London rain and wind without trouble, only to be lost somewhere in Boston. That was 10 years ago, and I still miss it. Silly.

And then I came home and discovered that someone had stolen my bike off of the back porch sometime while I was out. (Fuck you, whoever you are. And me, too, for not bringing it down to the basement like I should have.)

And the rain is pouring, pouring, and I don't have any firm plans for tonight or tomorrow, and I'm feeling a little lonely and desperate and disconnected and weird and pissed off and upset about my bike and also cracked out from the coffee. It's a strange day, and I'm having a hard time figuring out what to do with myself.

Indignant

I just soaked in the tub for a while, and was composing a long treatise about giving. Giving too much, how I do it joyfully and without reserve. How there's a limit to giving and giving more without receiving something you need in return. Not a tit for tat thing, but, you know, basic stuff you need to justify the giving. The bare minimum. And how I tend not to get what I need. Why that is, and what I should do about it.

But I feel tired now, and hungry. And kind of indignant. So I think I should just eat some salad and crackers and soup and snuggle into bed. Give myself what I need.

Holding on, letting go

I just reread a blog post that someone sent me the link to exactly a month ago. I was feeling sad that day when she sent it. Looking back on past bullshit and regrets, and I think my intuitive antennae were quivering quite a bit, knowing that some bad times were coming. Preparing for what was ahead by looking back.

I didn't really absorb it at the time, and I think I still haven't, this idea of letting go. Surrender. Feeling the fullness of feeling, even when current feelings are the exact opposite of what you want in your life (at this moment, or ever). It feels self-indulgent, self-pitying. I feel like, instead, I need to keep busy, count my blessings, try to focus on the positive. I feel like if I surrender, the feelings will take over and I'll drown in them. Isn't surrender the same thing as giving up? Accepting that life sucks and always will and there's fuck-all you can do about it?

But I think it's different (subtly) from giving up. It's accepting things as they are now. And the now sucks. But it won't always suck. I guess it's a matter of accepting and being OK with (or at least resigned to) the now, but not losing hope for a better something, somehow, down the road. That by feeling what I feel, doing what I do, being who I am, I'll eventually get somewhere good. And trying to be flexible about what that place looks like. I can't control the outcome, and I need to be open to different flavors and faces of "good."

This is a little jumbled, and I still don't quite get how to do this. But I'm trying.

Neglectful

I'm neglecting too many things. I just got an email from my mom, which made me realize that I haven't called my parents since Easter. I guess because I haven't had anything good to talk about, but that's not really a good reason. Also, it's my father's birthday today (58!), and I completely forgot about that. And it's Mother's Day on Sunday, and I didn't send a card or a gift or anything. I feel like a bad person right now.

I also need to clean my room. It's an awful mess, crap everywhere. It's always cluttered, but things are getting out of control. And I need to figure out the cable bill, and get my car inspected. And find a new credit card that has a 0% APR, so I can transfer my mega-balance to that so I don't have to pay $80 per month in interest. At least I finished a load of laundry this morning. That was way overdue, too. And I bought stamps this morning, which I've also been meaning to do all week. I guess that's progress?

I've been in my head so much, alternately wallowing in and trying to distract myself from all the hurt, I haven't been paying attention to those banal little details of life that need tending to. It's hard to muster the energy. But I guess I have to somehow.

Broken

I'm broken into a million pieces. Sometimes I manage to pull them all together, with bits of tape and string and glue. But I've fallen apart again. A goddamn Humpty Dumpty.

Cult of personality

For a while when I was younger, maybe 10 or 11, my favorite book was Please Understand Me, an exhaustive discourse on personality types, based on The Keirsey Temperament Sorter. You know, INFJ, ENTP, etc. I was entranced, I think at least partially because of the title -- its pleading pronouncement of my most basic desire at the time (which it is still, I think, which maybe is just part of the human condition, but which also might mean that I'm destined to be perpetually 10 years old, emotionally). I pored over every word about "me," the "most rare of all types," INFJ. (Though, reading more recently, I might be closer to INFP. This is not an exact science, people.)

I still read about this stuff, I still find it kind of fascinating, but I don't know that it brings me any closer to understanding. Lately I've been trying to talk myself out of this need to understand things (and my need for others to understand), particularly feelings and motivations. Most of the time, they don't make sense. But you still have to deal with them in the real world, nonsensical or no. Maybe I should focus my attention on that, on just accepting and dealing. Maybe trying to understand is just a way of diverting myself from the reality of stupid, disappointing truths that make me feel sad and angry. Maybe trying to understand these things, the whys behind them, even a tiny little bit, is just an exercise in futility.

I don't really want to believe that, but I sure wish I did. It would make some things so much easier.

Hippy pits

So I went to Lush last night, after my weekly...thing, which I had missed last week and had two new people in it, and during which I said absolutely nothing, which left me feeling as woozy and weird and agitated and anxious as I had all day, and maybe moreso. I went to Lush and bought a bunch of the usual, including this and this, and also this and this. But I also bought something new: a bar of deoderant. I'm all about the natural deoderants, nothing new there--I've been buying Tom's of Maine for years. But this one has...patchouli in it. Seriously. I hate patchouli. Usually. Ever since my roommate sophomore year of high school rubbed it all over the walls because she was "allergic" to non-natural scents but something had to be done because her nasty soccer cleats and ancient Doc Martens had stunk up the place. I don't know what's different about this, but it doesn't smell like the usual patchouli smell. Maybe because it has some other scent in it? I really don't know.

All I know is that the label says "Happy Hippy Patchouli Pits!" and I'm rubbing it on my unshaved armpits. Oh sweet jebus. What is happening to me?

Withheld

I was also just reading this, and thinking about how I once said I didn't really know what it was about. I lied. I just couldn't say it. Explain it. Because I was afraid that my clumsy words would break some tenuous spell. Maybe I shouldn't have been so reticent. I wasn't about much of anything else. Maybe it would have broken something, but maybe maybe...I don't know. I'm really tired of maybes.

My subconscious is smarter than I am

I was just rereading this, about a dream/set of dreams I had in late March. I think I get it now. Mostly.

Seams

I'm not sure how I keep myself from falling apart at the seams. It feels like my skin is stretched so tight, the sutures that close all the fissures and cracks are threatening to pop. Ping, poppety, ping, in a million directions. And everything that's tied up tight will go slack and spill out over the ground.

So I hold very still and clench my jaw and close my eyes and close my mind. And it seems to work, but it hurts a lot. I'm looking for another way, one that doesn't give me headaches and stomach aches and back aches and aches of sadness, but I haven't found it yet.

Sexy little number

I finally got a new computer at work today. It doesn't make any *chunkchunnchunkunk* noises, it's all sexy-looking, and the new keyboard has a "Smart Card Terminal," whatever that is. Also, it has iTunes, and I switched over from stupid Eudora to Thunderbird (though I'll miss the schoolmarmy warning I would get when I tried to send an email with "shit" or "fuck" or "crap" in it).

I am pleased. So far.

n-1

I can't help feeling like I'm a perpetual precursor. Like the person who can't open the salsa jar, but loosens it up just enough so that the next person who tries opens it without a whit of trouble. Like the person who primes the pump. Like the understudy who performs during the dress rehearsal so everything goes smoothly for the real performance.

This is annoying. A lot of effort for little return. But maybe this is a faulty interpretation, based on too little data. More study is needed.

Nuts

I just put a few notes in my calendar, starting on May 18th, which say "No nuts!" The "nuts" in question aren't testicles or crazy people, but, you know, nut nuts. Like the tamari almonds I'm munching on right now. This is part of the "prep" for my "procedure."

Hmph. (*crunchcrunch*)

Bait

I feel like a juicy worm on a hook. Wiggle or no?

Fatigue

I'm a little tired of baring my soul here. I have a feeling others are too. Empathy fatigue. (Or maybe I write my sorrows in a private language that only I can feel.) So maybe I'll take a page out of someone else's book and stop for a while. If you want to know, ask. Otherwise, I'll shut up about it already.

(Who am I kidding. I'll probably change my mind tomorrow. Whiplash.)

Little things

I feel better right now than I did this morning.

I'm getting a hair cut tonight, so I will look purty, for at least a couple of hours.

Someone told me yesterday that I'm "goddamn hot," which is always a nice piece of flattery.

Something meanly satisfying happened at work today, to the most deserving person imaginable.

Only two more weeks until my vacation.

Wonderland

I'm part Alice, part Red Queen today.

"I wish I hadn't cried so much!" said Alice, as she swam about, trying to find her way out. "I shall be punished for it now, I suppose, by being drowned in my own tears! That WILL be a queer thing, to be sure! However, everything is queer to-day."

The Queen turned crimson with fury, and, after glaring at her for a moment like a wild beast, screamed "Off with her head! Off--"

Crying, raging. It isn't fair. I feel so awful, in my head and in my body, and it only seems to be getting worse. I want someone to hold me and reassure me that everything is going to be OK. And the only person who can do that at the moment, can't. We're both fixer-uppers, were and still are. Still not sure why the project was abandoned, with wiring left bare and plaster all over the floor. Unfinished, maybe in a worse state than when it started.

I guess it's not worth thinking about. But I can't help it, when there were so many lovely details and potential. But maybe I saw things that were there only for me. It's been known to happen.

Reminder

Thinking about my dream this morning reminded me of this. And so I've been thinking about how touch is so important. The contact and warmth; its sensual nature and the reassurance it provides. A reminder that you're not alone. That you're touchable.

I miss this a lot when I don't have it.

Catchup

I managed to stay in bed until 9 this morning, drifting in and out of sleep for a few hours. I think the fan helped, with its soothing white noise, and also that I was so tired by 10 last night that I couldn't see straight and literally stumbled between my room and the bathroom while preparing for bed.

During one of my drifting-out moments, I thought how when bed is a lonely place, it makes me want to leap out of it as soon as I'm semi-conscious. Maybe that's part of the problem. And then I had a dream (or maybe I had a dream before this) that there were two other people in bed with me. Nothing sexual, just comforting company and soothing warmth. Skin to touch and words to share.

This morning the Gesticulatron made me smile, and my stripey socks made me smile, and I strutted a bit in the sunshine on my way to get my coffee.

Oh, yeaahh

So so tired. I was going to get a much-thought-about piercing today, but decided I should save it for a day when I'm more on my toes. Pokey needles going through sensitive bits requires me to be at least fairly sharp. (Har har.)

Instead, I ate eggs benedict and drank a mimosa with friends, and wandered around the Somerville open studios. I wasn't planning to, but I bought some art:

Gesticulatron by Nina Wishnok

It makes me smile (which made the artist happy; apparently, some people find the 'tron creepy). And, after I bought it, I realized it reminds me of the Kool-Aid guy.

I need to try to take a nap now. So tired. BBQ soon.

Dread

I just realized the hormone nonsense is going to hit like a fucking sledgehammer on Tuesday. I'm kind of scared. Shit.

And thank you

I really was losing my shit. More than I care to confess. So, thank you. I know I need to look elsewhere for what I need, though. Disappointed I can't get it from a convenient source. (And "it" means a lot of different things.) But that's life, I guess.

Please

I'm exhausted. Another 5-hour night. I just can't seem to sleep long enough. Something jerks me awake too early, and my mind won't let me drift off again. So I get up, dazed, and try to find some coffee too early on a Sunday morning.

It's been a rough week. The no sleep, the too much time alone, brooding. The self-doubt that keeps multiplying, creeping like mold. The fears and hard truths I can't shoo away.

I've shown a side that I try so hard to conceal. I'm embarassed. Don't want to show that crazy, obsessive, self-hating (I could go on) part of me. It's not the image I want to project (or what I want to feel inside). But it leaks out when I can't contain it anymore. It finds its target, locks on, fires. Messy.

It hurts. I strike out. I'm jealous, not just of cute pets I can't have, but also of experience. A reserve of evidence I can fall back on. Certainty. Coolness. Not-needing. I'm desperate to not-need, but I'm pretty certain I won't be able to let go successfully until something else comes along to fill the vacuum. Sad. And unlikely to happen anytime soon.

I need some patience. Some companionship. Distraction. Reassurance. Understanding. Hope. I wish I could give these things to myself. The well's pretty dry, though.

Peach

Had 10+ miles of sweating and thinking. No music, even--just the stuff inside my head. (I was so dazed this morning, I had to turn back twice to get keys and wallet. Not surprising I forgot my iPod.)

I need to turn that jealousy into admiration, at the very least. Aspiration at best. I feel so tired, though. So ugly and tender with bruises, like a roughly handled peach.

I'm holding a lot of whats. I sure could use some hows.

Jealous

I've been feeling keenly jealous of other people recently. Jealous of their cute cats, their hair cuts/colors, clothes, bodies, lifestyles, lack of inhibition, their self-awareness, healthy attitudes, cities, jobs. So many things, tangible and not. Even the fact that I'm fascinated by certain people makes me feel jealous (because I want that fascinated gaze turned toward me). The fact that I'm jealous of them makes me jealous.

It's all very perverse.

Evidence

I don't see any evidence to the contrary right now, but thank you for trying.

I see 10+ years of bad choices. Unhappiness, loneliness. Illness. Unrequited love and kindnesses. Failures. Heartbreak. Denial. Disillusionment. Poor treatment. Excuses.

And it must be all my fault. I must be doing something wrong. Everything wrong. Even when I think I'm doing things right, they turn out badly. And I don't know how to fix it.

Back

I was at lunch, and someone was telling a story involving the RMV. That reminded me that I need to get a new driver's license in July. And that in turn made me think about how old I was when I got my last license: 25, I think, or maybe 24. A lifetime ago, though it's passed so quickly.

And I started thinking about my 25-year-old self. What I would tell her if I could go back in time. The advice I would give. The cautions and forewarnings. There are too many to list; it would be a mile long.

If only I could go back--to 10 years ago, to 5 years ago, to 5 months ago. To have the benefit of hindsight. So many things could be better, could have been avoided.

But you know, I have a feeling that none of my younger selves would listen to a damn word I said.

Searching

People find this site in strange ways. Here are my current favorites:

• frattiest places to live
• star trek kissing
• unsolicited incident
• vieve for colored hair

Spam loop

A few weeks ago, someone harvested my domain and started using bogus email addresses from it to send out spam. Every day, I get about 20 or 30 "Returned mail: user unknown" emails. This is annoying, and I can't help but feel like people are getting this spam ("Watch this company closely starting now!" "TRADING ALERT") and shaking their fists at me and cursing my name.

Yesterday, it came full circle, and I got spam from myself.

BOS - OAK - BUR - BOS

Wednesday, 24 May 06 Depart Boston, MA (BOS) at 5:15 pm and arrive in Oakland, CA (OAK) at 8:40 pm

May 28, Sun OAK-BUR Depart Oakland (OAK) at 3:35 PM Arrive in Burbank (BUR) at 4:35 PM

Wednesday, 31 May 06 Depart Burbank, CA (BUR) at 10:40 am and arrive in Boston, MA (BOS) at 9:35 pm

I'm a-comin'. Who wants to show me a good time?

Burden

I feel like a mule. The one who always holds the burden. The one who always has to work it out. The one who always has to suck it up and deal. The one who has to smooth and soothe and make things OK. Somehow be OK, when it's not easy or even possible.

YOU make it better. YOU make it up to me. Because god knows, I've given all I can give. I've shouldered as much as I can carry. I've wasted too much energy already. You figure out a way to make it OK. I can't, I won't. And if you don't want to, if it's not important enough to try, well. That's a reflection on you, not me.

"Issues" are not an excuse. I'm not buying it anymore.

Vievish

It's time to reclaim my vievishness. My feisty, good-natured, sharp-tongued, impetuous, fun-loving, self-loving, tell it like it is, non-bullshit abiding nature. She's been lost for a while, I think. I miss her.

Like a friend just told me, "She never left. She was just busy."

Salty circuitry

I just opened my phone, and it's all salty.

I've had a lot of discouraging truths running through my head for the past couple of hours.

One of those truths is that I've been in near constant pain for the past year? Two years? I've lost track. It's hard to be happy when you hurt.

The other ones, I don't even want to talk about.

Wondering

Whether I helped make any good memories that are worth remembering

Whether that openness is fleeting, less about growth and more about alchemy

Whether I give too much, unasked and unwanted, and that's the real problem

Whether I expect too much in return, and that's really the real problem

Whether I can ever live my life for me, which I have a feeling is the key to so many locked doors

I won't be posting those pictures on Flickr

Yesterday I had a long-awaited appointment with a gastroenterologist. It was fine, as these things go--nothing gross or invasive, minimal poking and prodding. He didn't discover anything alarming, but because I've had consistent, er, issues for so long (4 months now), and because it's generally better to be safe than sorry, he recommended a colonoscopy. I wasn't surprised, but I'm really not happy about it. I'm pretty much the opposite of happy about it. But he's the specialist--Best of Boston no less, which I learned while scanning the walls of the exam room (seriously, Boston Magazine has a category for "Top Gastroenterologist")--and I have to trust he knows what he's talking about. June 8th. Wish me luck. At least I'll get some good drugs for my troubles.

Also yesterday, a couple of pictures that I took of my new t-shirts got added to some guy's highly specialized Favorites collection on Flickr, which a friend dubbed "that guy's Hall of Racks." It's kind of amusing and sleazy and awesome all at the same time. My kind of combo.

Tuckered out and tame

I questioned whether waking up at 6am, after 6 hours of fitful sleep punctuated by two pee breaks and the same number of trips for more juice from the fridge and preceded by a very late dinner of leftover pizza and potato chips and chocolate, and then going to the gym to do 15 minutes of crunches and 3 miles on the treadmill was such a good idea. Maybe it wasn't ideal, but, like so many other things, I did it anyway.

I had some good sweating and thinking time. I had an epiphany while I was running. One of those "Oh. Well, then" moments. Something I knew but couldn't quite put into words before. What to do with it now, that's the question.

When I stepped outside this morning, a small shock of joy flooded through me. A perfect May day. The kind I want to bottle up and save for February. The air smells green. Perfect blue skies and gentle warmth, and just the right amount of moisture to make my hair spring into messy waves and my skin feel relaxed and right. Alive, growing weather full of contentment and promise.

I want to hold onto these feelings, but maybe the thing to do instead is just be in them. Appreciate them and be open to what comes next. Easier said than done, but I can try.

I'm more than just a little bit insecure

I still can't help feeling that I'm missing some crucial piece. Like I'm lacking a certain element that would have made things click. Made things work. Made me worth it. It's a hard feeling to shake.

Talking was both good and bad, like I knew it would be. I expected most of it, but not the raised voice. It startled me. I guess I didn't know the potential even existed. I'm kind of glad it does, in a strange way. It's a little reassuring, that I can provoke that reaction. Not sure what I mean by that exactly, but there you go.

And all the things I said I wanted, I still want them. Though maybe the priorities are shifting a bit. The tenor and volume of the voices, what I can pick out of the cacophony--that's changing.

I still don't get it. It's outside of my experience, the feelings and reasons. I have no frame of reference. And I don't know if I'll ever quite understand, but maybe that's not a goal anymore. Maybe what I really need most is reassurance. A band-aid for my insecurities and fears and self-doubt. An antidote for the self-pity and self-loathing. A little booster shot to set me back on track. And maybe that's something I can get. Maybe.

Me me me

I've been thinking today about how I need a lot of attention. OK, I crave a lot of attention. I want people to find me endlessly fascinating, hang on my every word, think about me ceaselessly, want me around all the time, compliment me extravagantly...etc. Me me me. (I'm also a fairly shy person, which sometimes bumps up against this other side of me and causes consternation. But that's something else entirely.)

Does everyone feel this way? Or am I more like a three-year-old than I like to believe?

Puppies and unicorns

In the past when I've felt down and depressed and torn up inside, I've gotten "advice" along the lines of, "Cheer up! Life is beautiful! It's all in the way you look at things!" (Thankfully not recently, because I'd give you a verbal bitchslap that would send you reeling into next week.) This kind of simplistic nonsense bugs the shit out of me, honestly. Life is more nuanced than that. "Let a smile be your umbrella" is something you tell to a three-year-old, not a grown-ass woman who knows better.

Sometimes bad stuff is just...bad. There's no bright or good side to it. It can be instructive, which is good in its own way, but it's a struggle-filled, in-the-long-term kind of good.

In my mind, the trick is being able to hold the fullness of life, the good and the bad and the in-between, all at the same time. This is ridiculously difficult, and I'm only just starting to get the hang of it. Bad feelings are unpleasant, but you can't just sweep them under the rug. You have to feel them, and if that means wallowing for a couple of weeks, then that's that. Feel what you need to feel. Scream at whomever you need to scream. But try to accept the kindnesses and small triumphs that also happen when you're feeling lousy. Putting blinders on, to keep out either extreme, isn't going to get you anywhere good.

It's hard to see the shiny goodness when you're wading through shit, and it's unfair to criticize someone for only seeing the shit. The key is to keep wading, I think, and try to hold onto the belief that you'll eventually get out of it.

Now THAT'S more like it

If you've been waiting for a time to be scandalous and risqué in the pursuit of getting what you want, it's now, Cancer. Go on, sleep your way to the top. Put yourself out there and snag what or whom you want like a Venus flytrap. It's a great moment, with lots of sexy amour for the snatching.

Well, then. Never mind.

I was all set to write about how much I hate today. How my umbrella turned inside-out three times today, how I got an extra 5 hours of work dumped in my lap as soon as I walked in the door. How I burned my mouth on my "lunch" that I couldn't find time to eat until 4:30. How the weather sucks. How I totally forgot to do something kind of important on Friday and how I felt terribly guilty about it. How I spent 50 minutes sobbing and feeling more pissed off and frustrated than I thought it was humanly possible to ever feel.

But then I got word that my book, which I thought had to go to the printer the first week of June, actually doesn't have to go until July. Which is a huge relief, and means that I can absolutely take the last week of May off and go to California. (There's still a window for invitation retraction, but it's closing fast, just so you know.) I don't really have the money for it, but I have a shitload of credit, and I need to get out of this town for a while.

And then I started thinking about the other good things about today. My Cute Overload and Khaaaaaaaaaaaaaan! t-shirts arrived. I saw this picture today (scroll down). The thing I forgot to do Friday wasn't the end of the world (or my job), so whatever. It's May, and soon the weather will be fine, and I'll be able to plant my Morning Glories and nasturtiums and whatever else.

I give myself whiplash sometimes. It's really exhausting being me.

180

Now I feel like punching someone in the face. It doesn't really matter who it is. Beware.

I'm starting to hate myself a little for feeling so much. It seems...unseemly. Immature, maybe. A waste of energy, really. Because it doesn't change one fucking thing. I can't make someone else see things the way I see them, or feel them the way I do. Or turn back time and handcuff someone to a chair until they just tell me already what the fuck they're thinking. I can't stop anyone from making choices that affect me, even when those choices are based on incomplete information (cause no one asked me what I thought or felt). I can't stop anyone from misinterpreting what I say. I can't do any of these things.

I am so frustrated right now, I can't even begin to describe it.

De-, dis-, un-

I feel disembodied today. Not quite all here. Disengaged. Like I've taken some Dayquil and my head is floating, bobbing above the earth. Like if I stand too long in the cold rain, my body will melt and disappear into the earth I'm so high above.

I drove to an appointment this morning and realized, after I'd gotten there and was circling the block for parking, that it had been changed to this afternoon. So I turned around and drove back the way I had come.

Disengaged, disappointed. Uninspired, unclear. De facto depersonalized.

It feels neither good nor bad. Neutral, but worth noticing. Noting.

I'd like to sleep it off instead of floating through the day. But I don't have much choice in the matter.

Self-determination, and the desire to exercise it, are such slippery things.

Dear weather:

APRIL showers bring May flowers. Not the other way 'round. Please respect the aphorisms.

Though the rain matches my mood. Or maybe my mood adjusted to match it. Not sure. It's raining, and I cried in the cold rain. That's all I know.

Forget it

I'm getting into bed and eating the rest of my chocolate ice cream. Fuck it.

Fuck.

Odoriferous

I just walked back into my office, and it smells like banana and Indian food. Hm. My coworkers love me, really.

Stuff and things

Things I need to do:

Get my car inspected and its oil changed.

Get my hair cut. (And decide whether to keep it long? Cut it short? Dye it pink? Suggestions welcome.)

Get some goddamn work done, so I can figure out the schedule for this book, so I can then figure out whether I can take a trip to California at the end of this month.

Stop buying Us Weekly.

Update my resume.

Just get the tattoo already that I've been thinking about for years.

Remember to take my vitamins in the morning.

Remove the basket of Easter candy from the table next to my bed.

Make an acupuncture apointment.

Call a couple of far-flung friends.

Call my parents.

Try to adjust my feelings to align with reality.

Try to be more of a grownup about these shifting realities.

Remember not to be so hard on myself.

Karma

I got a comment on here last week that pissed me off at the time, enormously. A comment from someone I don't know, which doesn't happen often, except for the spam, and I don't think this was spam... Anyway, in response to this, I got "Sounds awful, you may need a good game of disc golf." Followed by a link to a women's disc golf message board.

Was that a joke? If so, it was a dumb one. I almost shot an email back saying, simply, "Fuck you." (I'm almost positive the email address is legit.) But I didn't. But it's still bothering me a little. So I figured I'd write something about it.

Confidential to "Eddie": Don't mock someone's anguish. It makes you look like an asshole.