Young, Restless... and Random

It's 12:30 a.m. and my alarm is going to start squealing in 5 1/2 hours. I was really falling asleep during the 11 o'clock news... even cut it short for fear of leaving the t.v. on. But, somehow, my mind started reeling randomly... about my fantasy art studio and whether or not I should add it on to the house or build it at the very back of the yard. Huh? What sense does it make to concern myself with such things when I have all of $900 spare dollars in my bank account and plenty of other repairs that must precede this desired draft house. I immediately surrendered the idea of pursuing sleep and got up to make myself a cup of mint tea. I then was easily entertained with "mint tea... it's minty," and, well, I continue to digress!

I've just made another cup.

Here comes a confession: I've been watching "The Bachelorette." Yes, I'm ashamed, but you must know that I'm not watching it because I truly want to. I think I'm watching it because I'm desperately searching for a reason not to cancel my cable service and spend that $70 a month on something more meaningful than 100 some channels of absolute crap. This debate has been on-going for at least a year now. Why can't I just let it go? I honestly don't watch that much t.v. in the first place.

To continue in the theme of randomness... while watching "The Bachelorette" I searched "how to find love" and came across an article that was semi-interesting and mildly intellectual. Perhaps I could have paid more attention to it, but that would have required my inquiry to be serious... and I just don't believe finding love should be so analytical, calculated, and planned. But, I also apparently suck at it! Interesting, but not interesting enough for me to investigate! Anyway, one of the suggestions the article makes is to make a list of your ideal mate, right down to height, occupation, personality, hobbies... you name it. Hmmm. I've heard this a few times before. However, it gives me a "Weird Science" kind of image when I think of drafting the plans of my future mate and seems entirely unnatural. And if I were to stay true to what my list would entail... I would be single well into my 50's at minimum! The sad truth is the kind of man I truly desire is unlikely to reside within a 50 mile radius of my home, and more likely to require a passport to visit me.

The article did mention "settling" and something about sticking in relationships that aren't really working and therefore distracting ourselves from what we really want. Ironic, because my on-again-off-again (more off than on) fellow of over 10 years asked me out earlier in the evening and I agreed. At one point in time, I secretly referred to him as my husband, meaning I envisioned us married somewhere down the line; however, any nuptial notions have long since passed and never returned. We just haven't been in the same proverbial place in years. I don't think it so wrong to spend time with him. He's a friend after all. It's comfortable. Safe. Familiar. We laugh together. Aren't concerned with false impressions or insecurities. A hell of a lot better than unwittingly going on a blindish date with someone from an online dating site in my book! I've been craving more social interaction and that's all it really is. Lately, I've been working, or basically spending time at home, and not always wisely. I think I'll stick with my plans and save the analyzing and calculating for the weekend.

Serendipitous Coincidence

Life has a funny way of telling us the things we really want to know, quietly sending us the answers to questions our human minds find impossible. After waking up Saturday morning with my mind full of wonder, jaw sore from anxiety-driven teeth grinding... the answers slowly came to me.

I was wondering if I was spending too much time alone, and had an unplanned dinner with my mother, brother, aunt and cousin.

I was wondering if I was spending too much time at home, until I picked mulberries with my neighbor, watched the groundhogs play, witnessed two baby doves learn how to fly, fixed my fountain bird bath that I had written off as broken, gave a neighbor I had never met before free tickets to a ball game, and helped my brother mulch my mother's yard.

I felt, perhaps, that I wasn't living up to my potential, then I finished reading the book, "Outliers" by Malcolm Gladwell.

I was feeling like the meaningful things in life seem to be lost in the rush of attainment and status... wondering if I was fooling myself with a false contentment in my non-material world; and I watched the movie "Seven Pounds."

I picked fresh blackberries from the vine. Planted flowers. Danced with the wind and sun for an entire Sunday afternoon. Profound? No. But somehow, these simple occurrences settled my mind. I feel a great sense of calm and contentment. I might not be able to provide a detailed map of where I'm going... or an elaborate agenda of what I'm doing... but I know that it's right.

What's Next?

Pondering. I've been pondering what to do with myself, with my life, a lot lately. Now that I am single again, and not distracted by the flirtatious excitement of a new relationship, I feel kind of lost.

The past five years or so I've been doing a lot of growing... changing... and for the most part, I'd say I've made significant progress in my life. But yet, I feel stumped. Where am I going? What am I doing? I don't feel I have those answers. Where is my drive? Have I ever had this "drive?" These are my questions. Questions weighing so heavily on my mind, that I literally awoke with them this morning. Apparently my entire resting state is now consumed with these concerns.

My birthday is in two weeks. Another year of life passing. Did I do anything valuable within that time? I did finally finish school, something I had always wanted to do, and yet felt little accomplishment when it was all said and done. The same blankness of emotion surrounds my art, despite being offered to be in a show; and my writing, despite being published. I found a job at which I excel and that has the ever elusive "purpose" I find so important... and having a job these days is a miracle within itself. Honestly, I keep waiting for the curtain to fall, the bomb to drop, the bottom to fall out. Why am I so detached from myself? Why am I unable to celebrate my personal successes? Or even acknowledge them?

What's next?

I do not know. I have this nagging feeling that there is something I am supposed to be doing. An incomprehensible voice is calling to me... why don't I understand it?

FOCUS!

Okay... so what I really need to do is focus on me. What I really want to do with this life before it is g-o-n-e! I need to sit down and make a plan. Get a grip on my finances. Put my money to work...

But...

I'm going shopping in a few minutes. Shit.

Need. I'm going to try and refrain from going bananas in the store to relieve my temporary boy-induced psychosis, and simply buy what I need to help push me in the right direction.

And I Try... And I Try... And I Try!

So... I tried. I tried to be open with a boy; and I was! Unfortunately, he happened to be a very emotionally immature 41 year old, and (if I'm being honest) I'm left wondering why I even try dating anymore! It seems like everyone is travelling on some bizarre alternate plane and they never connect on the same one. If you decide you'll just have a fling they want to get married before they know your last name. If you try to take it slow, they hit the gas... and if you just go with it... you crash into a brick wall!!!

Thankfully, some girls filled me in on Mr. Not-so-nice guy's M.O. so I don't have to punish myself for failing as a human to understand a man. But I am wondering if finding a compatible mate is really this difficult. Fuck, I've been dating for over 20 years! And even though these bastards we call boys and men seem to run me through the ringer... I'm still ready to play with them! Am I a masochist? I mean really!

So the alternate plan... well... it isn't a plan per say... but I think I'm just going to approach future dating like a man. I'm going to do whatever whenever... WHOever I want!!! I don't know if that's progressing or digressing... but it sounds good to me!

Potato Salad for the Soul

I'm happy to report that I've gotten out of bed. I look like a hot mess, but I'm feeling a little better. I really didn't like feeling as though I was falling apart, but I needed to process a lot of pent up emotion before I exploded. So I exploded.

I hate crying. It makes me feel stupid. But... sometimes we just have to let it out. And I'm grateful that I did, grateful for my good friends who listened to my pathetic babbling, and thank God I work with wonderful, understanding people. The reality of life is that sometimes it's hard. And lately, I've just had too much coming at me at once, and didn't have, nor make, the time to work it out. I was barely hanging on... and then I found out a dear man I knew succombed to cancer. He was supposed to have 3-6 months; but he only made it two weeks. Sadly, because I was wrapped up in my own shit and don't get the paper... I missed his funeral. And of course, I'm sad that he died. Just as I fear my Chester is dying. His death reminded me how fragile my Chester is.


So after hours of tears, countless naps, and thoughts good and bad... I got up off my ass and started therapy. Cooking therapy. I busied my mind with the tedious dicing of celery, bacon, onions, eggs, and potatos. A little potato salad for the soul, if you will. I've exchanged the mess of feelings in my mind for a mess in the kitchen... and I'm okay with both of them. I'm okay. Sometimes things stress us out. Sometimes things hurt. Sometimes people that have been kind to you do things that are unkind. I really don't understand why, and just like the silence that surrounded the existence of my father hurt me... this silence hurts too. But it won't hurt forever. Thank you for being there... you know who you are.

Puking, Sneezing, Pneumonia, and Pussies

So much has happened... can't capture it in a genuinely eloquent blog...

But I can give you a synopsis:

I had the stomach flu.
I had a chest cold.
I had allergies so bad I actually took medication for the first time.
Mr. Nice Guy had pneumonia and his daughter... roseola.

We had some (still) understood dispute over text messages.

He still hasn't spoken to me directly, but sent me some text messages...

And now I see has deleted my pictures from his Myspace, removed me from the #3 spot and ramdomized his friends...

JUVENILE ASS PUSSY!!!!!

This is all hot off the presses... so yes... I am a super pissed, a little hurt, and extraordinarily disappointed in his behavior. Because he is not mature enough to talk about it I am left to draw conclusions... which could be a) he's running scared even though he was the one that was coming on strong b) he's a serial dater and can't be alone c) the catty cunt at the show was right d) he's just a pansy!

GRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR!

I want the hell out of this town. I need a vacation!!!!! Fuck this!