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

You have GOT to be kidding me

Today and yesterday are stupid.

The end.

Bubble girl

I've spent this week mostly by myself. So much lately, I've felt desperate for company, lonely and wistful. And mostly not just any company, but a particular kind, which I had for a while and can't have now. I spent a lot of time feeling angry about that, and muddled.

This week has been different. I'm trying to be alone and feel OK about it. Or not even trying, really, just being. And it feels a little boring, but not gut-wrenchingly awful.

I've retreated for a bit, pulling inside myself, creating a soap bubble around myself. It's temporary and will pop soon, but it's something I had to do for myself. Take a break from the complexities and uncontrollable things I've been struggling with so much. I was tired, and I needed a nap.

Little boxes

Half of my things are packed up in boxes, sitting in the dining room. My staging area for the next stage.

Nine boxes are sealed and ready for shipping, marked with my name, From and To, to a place I've never lived, but will soon. A place I haven't lived for a long time, but is a stable backup, should things go wrong.

It feels strange. Compartmentalizing my possessions, discarding, with such precision, and focus, and finality. I feel better and calmer to have things done and moving along. But it's strange and unsettling, and I'm not sure how I'll feel tomorrow.

Rest in peace

Mercury (né Pansy, or maybe Petunia)
1988 - 2008
Bye-bye, kitty. Sleep well.

Control freak

Sometimes I wish I could bitch-slap people and tell them, "Do this! Not that! Are you fucking stupid?!" And then they would do what I said, and everything would be OK.

(And sometimes I wish that would work with me, but I'm pretty sure it wouldn't, even if people tried, which they don't for the most part, because they are smarter than me and know better.)

I think that's why I'm attracted to people who kind of need that. Even though they can't hear me, and usually I can't even tell them, because I know it's sort of pointless, or at least know it would cause a rift or a fight, which I can't bear. (I'm not as dumb as I think, really.) Instead, I try to insinuate myself, and my caring, and my sometimes high-handed advice, and hope it works.

I just want to help. It doesn't, though, and it breaks my heart every time.

I'm rambling, though, and can't see this very clearly. Blah blah blah.

Edna rises again!

Two days at the mechanic and about $1,200 later (I paid $1,800 for it four years ago, sigh), Edna is now purring like a kitten, and her A/C is like an arctic blast. (After replacing the radiator, manifold, heat pump, part of the exhaust, and whatever else, they threw in the A/C charge for "free.") I'm just going to assume that the stinky smoke coming from under the hood is simply some new-part grease burning off...

So, Edna will be making the trip with me. Plans are taking shape, and I have helpers coming this weekend to work on the crap-winnowing and packing. I'm feeling a little less freaked out, and a little more excited, which is a relief.

Moving forward

A conversation yesterday:

"I've been meaning to call you for the past two weeks, but I've been busy having my own private freakouts."

"Well, that's understandable. It's a big move. How long have you been there? Twelve years?"

"Thirteen next month."

"Sounds like an auspicious time to leave, then."

It was nice to hear that I'm normal for feeling this way, and not crazy. To have some support, and help, and reassurance. I still have a steady supply of freakouts ahead of me, I think, but it's nice to have at least one person not judge me for them.

It's time to move forward. Now who wants some furniture?

Aha

Now I remember why I drag my feet so when I need to take my car to the mechanic:

• The owner makes some sexist crack about "independent women" (because I brought my bike and therefore didn't need a ride)
• He doesn't listen to me for longer than 30 seconds when I try to explain what's wrong and what I need ("Sure, sure, dear. Just leave the key.")
• That hill coming up School St. is a bitch and a half
• When I return, I will have to hand over heaping wads of cash

They are a good shop, though, and honest, and that's all you can really hope for. Still, I think my dread is kind of justified.

And please say a prayer/chant to the car gods for me and ask them for to please fix my A/C. Because if it can't be fixed fairly easily, I'm a little screwed.

Honest insomnia

I always find it incredible (and incredibly annoying) when I can fall asleep on the couch with no trouble, but then when I go to bed, I lay there for over two hours very much awake.

While I was awake and undistracted, I did some good thinking. Really, I had a conversation in my head that I haven't been able to have out loud, and I realized why, and both things shed light on why I've been behaving a particular way. I didn't want to be That Girl who always needs to have a Talk, and instead I became That Other Girl who blubbers and accuses in a very incomprehensible and messy way and becomes an incredible pain in the ass. Also, facing some truths and particular feelings makes me face my part in it, my anger at myself, and disappointment. I wasn't taking care of myself for a long time, and that's my #1 job, and I failed pretty miserably. But I also realized that both of us were just trying to muddle through the best we could. Still angry, but not so messily accusatory.

Anyway, the conversation went very well in my head (though was pretty one-sided), but I think it'll have to stay there for a while, or maybe forever. I'm not sure yet which is best.

I think it's time to stop thinking now.

Rediscovery

I haven't ridden my bike at night for a long time, and I'd almost forgotten how much I enjoy it. I feel kind of like a bat, silently swishing through the inky night. (Well, OK, a bat with blinky lights on it. I'm not dumb.)

Also am watching some Star Trek: TNG, which I could never forget I enjoy, but I feel like it's notable anyway.

Sisyphus

I've been to the gym four times in the past six days, and have eaten mostly salads and Lean Cuisine Spa Entrees (or whatever the hell), and I seem to have gained a pound. I suppose we'll just call it muscle mass and move along.

I have to say, though, that it does seem to reflect the rest of my life now. Where I'm trying to do the right things for myself, and really making a mess of everything, in worse ways than just some extra chub on my thighs. I won't give up, and I'll take the blame where it's due (just like I'll admit to eating a bunch of french fries yesterday, though not as many as I could have), but it feels pretty discouraging.

All I can do is keep trying, and only be as hard on myself as I truly deserve, and hopefully I'll fuck up less and less.

Sleepy

This is why I hardly ever take sleepy meds. Though I had a luxurious lay-in this morning, even after a big cup of coffee, my brain feels like a bowl full of jelly. But I suppose at least it's a calm and well-rested bowl of jelly.

I think I might be due for a nap soon.

An evening in which I kinda suck

Last night I went to a PawSox game, which should have been lots of fun. They won by one run in the 9th, we were sitting behind home plate, tickets were $10(!), it didn't rain, and the cheese fries and hot dogs and beer and Twizzlers were yummy.

Instead, I let my bad and upset and jealous feelings ruin a lot of it, and I sat trying to stifle tears for the last three innings. And the end of the night culminated in a semi-fight and then me sitting in my car for about five minutes, crying my eyes out. Super.

(Also, girl sitting behind me, you have the most annoying, piercing laugh ever. And man sitting a few seats down, do not say, "While you're at it..." when I get up to go potty, and then give me your trash. And rude man's wife, after you've had one too many beers -- i.e., one beer -- don't be so nosey and say, "I bet you two had a fight! Cheer up! You're no fun!" Because you know what would be fun? Punching you in the goddamn face. And I wouldn't want to mess up your expensive cosmetic surgery.)

Anyway. Sometimes I kinda suck. But I'm not perfect, and I guess sometimes that just can't be helped.