...and in the Healthy Eating category...or at least the trying-to-cook-healthy-food-from-scratch category, here's my chicken creation from a few nights ago, which made great leftovers for work-lunches. I always go overboard on olive oil and never use enough salt, but at least I call them by their names and not my own silly abbreviations (ahem, miss Ray, just chill with your A.D.D.-style cuisine...it's been called Olive Oil for thousands of years and I don't think we need to go changing it now.) ;)
Baked Chicken with Veggies and Herbs. (Because it has chicken. and veggies. and herbs.)
2 med. to lg. onions
two green peppers
approx. 10-12 roma tomatoes (less juicy and easier to dice)
fresh thyme, oregano, basil (i used about 3 T. of each FRESH herb - 1.5 T. for each layer; you can use less if you're using dried)
salt
pepper
olive oil
chicken (i used 3 leg/thigh pieces; or 3 boneless breasts)
grated parm (i like the fresher grated stuff in the jar, not the powdery kind)
rice
preheat oven to 400. dice vegetables. grease cassarole dish with thin coating of olive oil. layer 1/2 of the diced onions, peppers, and tomatoes on bottom of dish. sprinkle generously with fresh chopped thyme, oregano and basil (or use dried if you absolutely have to! ;) ) sprinkle with salt and pepper.
next, place chicken pieces on top of veggies. brush lightly with olive oil; salt and pepper. now layer the rest of the diced veggies on top of the chicken, sprinkle again with lots of fresh herbs and salt/pepper. drizzle the whole thing with olive oil (i tend to use way more than is necessary, you might just like a light sprinkle of it...)
sprinkle with just a small amt of parm cheese if desired.
bake uncovered for 1 hr. or until chicken is done and juices run clear (probably less time if you're using boneless chicken). serve w/ steamed rice.
What I think made this extra yummy is the tomatoes and herbs straight from my garden, the peppers and onions from the farmer's market, and the simplicity of it all. Less can be more in life and cooking. ;-)
9.19.2007
Insomnia
So I've been having trouble falling asleep (and staying asleep) for the past week and a half, and it's been getting annoying. I lie down and no matter how tired I am, my mind is racing. Everyone says I must be stressed, and maybe so, but a lot of the things that had been stressing me out have passed. Still, I have to say that it's been funny, all the thoughts that pass through my head as I'm trying to fall asleep. Maybe I just need a notebook by my bed, except that all the ideas are so completely random, it would be hard to find any consistency in it. And the crazy dreams! At the worst, they're of me arguing with people or being annoyed at their invasion of my privacy. At the best, they're like two mornings ago, when I dreamed I had a big farm field where I owned one big, fat, prizewinning pig, who continually got out of the field by squeezing himself through the wires of the electric fencing (that part of the dream was entertaining; the end of it was a bit more disturbing, and completely unrelated to the pig). Once I do fall asleep, or when I'm in that wake-sleep limbo, it's like some weird creative side of my brain decides it's time for ideas. I'll compose songs in my head - lyrics and music and all. Of course, I forget them in the morning. I'll have entire conversations with people in dreams, as if I'm writing or reading some sort of movie script. I'll think of strange stories, almost like dreaming but more like narrating.
You think I'm nuts. Just WAIT.
This is the little snippet of a story I came up with when falling asleep last night. The only reason I remember it is because I really was in that limbo state, and "woke up" enough to remember what I'd been thinking...like remembering a dream, I guess. This would be a kickass story if I had the rest of it hidden in my brain somewhere. And I'm not kidding - the title was the first thing that popped into my brain, and the rest of the paragraph followed:
"Parasitic Advancements Towards the Moon: A Love Story
The world had reached 2011 A.D. by the time Marcus realized that he had lost all hope. Of course, all the changes they'd predicted had occured to some extent, but they weren't half bad. Sure, the oceans rose, but engineers just destroyed, lifted or moved the buildings that were most at risk. Waterfront property was as sought after as ever. The flu pandemic had been spread through schoolchildren worldwide, but was quickly brought under control with the discovery of a vaccine that significantly reduced one's vulnerability to viruses. This was also good news for the population rebound, since it helped offset the loss of 19 million people in the great Volcano-Earthquake-Tsunami triple-whammy that the planet dished out in January of 2009. By the time Marcus reached thirty-two and he'd lost all hope, the world was as secure a place as it had ever been. Poor Marcus - if only he'd gotten to the moon as he'd planned."
The only way you can read this is as if it's the first paragraph of a novel. I actually know where half of this is coming from - inspired by the book I'm trying to finish, My Ishmael, where the chapter deals with space travel and finding/studying/establishing other cultures. I know where it's going, too - grown out of the idea that humans are parasites, taking over things as we do. It might continue on as a story about this dude and his dashed hopes of becoming as successful a parasite as anyone else, by finally taking part in populating the moon, with a little bit of a love story thrown in for shits and giggles. ;-) And the detail that went into this composition isn't just the description itself - this was well planned! Why did the flu pandemic spread through schoolchildren? Well, because of their horrible hygeine, of course. I pictured snotty kids blowing their noses in their sleeves and wiping their hands across everything. I was sure that this would result in many deaths, so I had to include a way out and give us a prevention for most viruses - which convenienly allowed me to justify the deaths of 19 million others from some exciting natural disasters. I pictured the volcano-earthquake-tsunami disaster wiping out a huge swath of land between - get this - Baja California and southern Florida. (Sure, there might not be 19 million people there, but gimme a break - I had no time for research! ;) ) I pictured huge skyscrapers in coastal cities suddenly having their first 10 floors completely submerged by the ocean, but somehow we'd found a way to just use the rest of the building anyway, make a few new entrances, build a couple walkways or cart everyone out in a ferry, and up the rent for the 360 degree waterfront view. On top of all this, the dates and times and ages were all what first popped into my head - so don't go dreading January '09, I'm certain I'm not psychic. ;-) All this goes on while our poor protaganist Marcus sits idly in his office, feeling bad for himself that he didn't make it aboard on the first public relocations to the Moon. (Maybe this was all about feeling like you should be more personally satisfied with the things you choose do with your life, instead of sitting idly by in your office while everyone else has their adventures.)
I'm telling you...this is the crap that keeps me awake at night.
So I don't know what to do about this sleeping business, but writing more seems like a good idea. It's not something I do consistently anymore, but I need it just to get things off my mind. Or, I need to write the next great American Science Fiction novel, whichever comes first. (Shit, that damn NaNoWriMo I am remembering now...I wish I had it in me, but I've always been more of a short-story person. I suppose that's just as good. :) ) At least it makes for a funny blog, and gives me something to be creative at for an hour out of my day.
I'm not really sure that anything else is going to happen to Marcus, but he'll probably end up in unfinished storyland forever. :) And in the meantime my friends, I'm getting another cup of coffee.
You think I'm nuts. Just WAIT.
This is the little snippet of a story I came up with when falling asleep last night. The only reason I remember it is because I really was in that limbo state, and "woke up" enough to remember what I'd been thinking...like remembering a dream, I guess. This would be a kickass story if I had the rest of it hidden in my brain somewhere. And I'm not kidding - the title was the first thing that popped into my brain, and the rest of the paragraph followed:
"Parasitic Advancements Towards the Moon: A Love Story
The world had reached 2011 A.D. by the time Marcus realized that he had lost all hope. Of course, all the changes they'd predicted had occured to some extent, but they weren't half bad. Sure, the oceans rose, but engineers just destroyed, lifted or moved the buildings that were most at risk. Waterfront property was as sought after as ever. The flu pandemic had been spread through schoolchildren worldwide, but was quickly brought under control with the discovery of a vaccine that significantly reduced one's vulnerability to viruses. This was also good news for the population rebound, since it helped offset the loss of 19 million people in the great Volcano-Earthquake-Tsunami triple-whammy that the planet dished out in January of 2009. By the time Marcus reached thirty-two and he'd lost all hope, the world was as secure a place as it had ever been. Poor Marcus - if only he'd gotten to the moon as he'd planned."
The only way you can read this is as if it's the first paragraph of a novel. I actually know where half of this is coming from - inspired by the book I'm trying to finish, My Ishmael, where the chapter deals with space travel and finding/studying/establishing other cultures. I know where it's going, too - grown out of the idea that humans are parasites, taking over things as we do. It might continue on as a story about this dude and his dashed hopes of becoming as successful a parasite as anyone else, by finally taking part in populating the moon, with a little bit of a love story thrown in for shits and giggles. ;-) And the detail that went into this composition isn't just the description itself - this was well planned! Why did the flu pandemic spread through schoolchildren? Well, because of their horrible hygeine, of course. I pictured snotty kids blowing their noses in their sleeves and wiping their hands across everything. I was sure that this would result in many deaths, so I had to include a way out and give us a prevention for most viruses - which convenienly allowed me to justify the deaths of 19 million others from some exciting natural disasters. I pictured the volcano-earthquake-tsunami disaster wiping out a huge swath of land between - get this - Baja California and southern Florida. (Sure, there might not be 19 million people there, but gimme a break - I had no time for research! ;) ) I pictured huge skyscrapers in coastal cities suddenly having their first 10 floors completely submerged by the ocean, but somehow we'd found a way to just use the rest of the building anyway, make a few new entrances, build a couple walkways or cart everyone out in a ferry, and up the rent for the 360 degree waterfront view. On top of all this, the dates and times and ages were all what first popped into my head - so don't go dreading January '09, I'm certain I'm not psychic. ;-) All this goes on while our poor protaganist Marcus sits idly in his office, feeling bad for himself that he didn't make it aboard on the first public relocations to the Moon. (Maybe this was all about feeling like you should be more personally satisfied with the things you choose do with your life, instead of sitting idly by in your office while everyone else has their adventures.)
I'm telling you...this is the crap that keeps me awake at night.
So I don't know what to do about this sleeping business, but writing more seems like a good idea. It's not something I do consistently anymore, but I need it just to get things off my mind. Or, I need to write the next great American Science Fiction novel, whichever comes first. (Shit, that damn NaNoWriMo I am remembering now...I wish I had it in me, but I've always been more of a short-story person. I suppose that's just as good. :) ) At least it makes for a funny blog, and gives me something to be creative at for an hour out of my day.
I'm not really sure that anything else is going to happen to Marcus, but he'll probably end up in unfinished storyland forever. :) And in the meantime my friends, I'm getting another cup of coffee.
9.18.2007
Quotes and Special Days
I was looking for an appropriate quote or saying to add to the sidebar. I had one of my old poems there but I really want something new. I haven't decided yet, but I found these and love many of them...especially the one about washing the dishes. ;) (If you have a favorite, let me know...I read them all and now I just can't decide.)
Another big part of my life that changed very recently was losing my dog. I had to put him to sleep very suddenly, after having him for almost nine years. Today, September 18th, would have been his 9th birthday. :( I've gotten through it alright, but I still miss so much about him and cry about it a lot at those times when I'd most like to have him around...especially going on walks and hikes with him, and having him there when I'm home alone. I suppose my life is "simpler" without a dog now, but it's still a big part of me that's missing. Happy birthday, Chance. :)
Another big part of my life that changed very recently was losing my dog. I had to put him to sleep very suddenly, after having him for almost nine years. Today, September 18th, would have been his 9th birthday. :( I've gotten through it alright, but I still miss so much about him and cry about it a lot at those times when I'd most like to have him around...especially going on walks and hikes with him, and having him there when I'm home alone. I suppose my life is "simpler" without a dog now, but it's still a big part of me that's missing. Happy birthday, Chance. :)
Introduction
(**NOTE, 10/29/09**: This post, and all posts between 9/18/07-6/2/08, were part of a separate blog I started when I thought I'd grown tired of this one. But now I see the point of leaving it all in the same place. ;-) As you were...)
I'm not usually one to describe things in my life as "blessed", but I feel that way more and more these days. Doing so denotes a belief in someone-doing-the-blessing - and despite my mother's best efforts, I don't think my Catholic upbringing has resulted in much more than an optimistic agnosticism. I do often feel like there is "SOMETHING out there", although I think I subscribe more to a Buddhist philosophy of our own interconnectedness, than to the ruling hand of God/guilt/sin...the sour taste of which reminds me only of the many people I've met whose hypocrisy in spiritual beliefs vs. everyday actions defies justification. I am open to other opinions on the matter, and I'm certain there are good Catholics out there...
Nevertheless, this is NOT a post about God. :)
This is a post about simplicity, life, love, doing the right thing, commitment, planning for the future, personal growth, sustainability, health, and positive thinking. This is about the fact that I am cautiously optimistic about the choices I've made in the past two years, and the growth that has come from that.
This is also about always having something new to learn.
I am trying on a daily basis to remove the unnecessary and unimportant things from my life. A recent, big help in this effort has been found from Zen Habits, a great blog about just that - simplifying your life, and the happiness that come from that. It was only a year ago that I moved out of an apartment and thus ended a stage in my life which was NOT simple, and on that day I consciously decided that purging the clutter was the first step on a much clearer road. This applied to all sorts of clutter - physical, mental, and even the "clutter" of people whose influence was not a positive one. It's worked. I still have some "things" to get rid of, but for the most part, everything I own is something I need - and yet, I'd be happy to get rid of even more if I ever need to. It's a good feeling, not being attached to physical things. It's also convenient when you're someone who moves a lot. ;) I've also removed a lot of the people and thoughts that caused more grief and anxiety than friendship, and although my circle of friends might be very small, I feel blessed by having such good people in my life.
Honesty, truth and trust in my friendships and relationships has been the second thing I've tried to focus on in the past two years. I have never been very good at keeping in touch with people at a distance, but I've tried harder to do so. (In the "Bane of my Existence" category, the award goes to Myspace, without which I probably would not have the continuous contact to a lot of my distant friends. Without it, however, I'd probably not have wasted so much free time over the past year! I've had more success at breaking that addiction these days - but still, having a link to all those distant friends in one place has been beneficial for me and made it easier to stay in touch - you just have to ignore the stalker/drama factor that everybody gets so worked up about.)
If you do not learn from your mistakes in life, and make conscious efforts to not repeat those mistakes, then you are living that basic definition of insanity: repeating the same action over and over again and expecting different results. If you learn from your mistakes, take note of the effect they had, and commit to keeping that in your mind to affect your choices in the future, I guarantee you will be a much happier person. I feel blessed right now because I feel like I am accomplishing that. I try to remain aware of how my words or actions might affect someone else - to treat people the way I want to be treated. I am by no means perfect at any of this, but it's the daily successes at doing so that make it worthwhile. I look back on people and events of the past two years and think about how much happier I am, and I'm certain that it's been the right way to go.
I am also really blessed when it comes to my relationship right now. I almost hesitate to admit how happy I really am, because in the grand scheme of things, it might still be "new", yet I am very satisfied with everything so far. I feel so lucky, every day. I've found this great person to spend my time with, someone who I believe has been honest with me, someone who really means it when he says he loves me, someone who I trust to do the right thing. I'm humbled by it, because I have spent so much time trying to grow and mature in all these other areas of my life, and I want to be as good to him every day as he has been to me. Unlike a lot of my other past relationships, I actually know that I am treating this person the way that I want to be treated, *and* I'm getting that in return. I am happy to go off and do my own thing, and happy to see him do his own thing, too - but I am also fulfilled by supporting him in his things - and I think he wants to support me in the things I do, too. It makes me happy to be trying to work out things in my own life, and yet to also have this person who I think really appreciates me, and who, I hope, knows that I appreciate him and adore him for all we've done together so far, and for all the dreams he has, and for all the ways I think we might be able to work together as time goes on. I want him to know that he has really helped make me a better person, too. He is mature and confident in himself, and that makes a huge difference. He has had a big influence on helping me figure out the things that are most important, and I really respect him for that. He has also stood by me through some really difficult things, and I think it's those sort of tests you need to go through in a relationship that strengthen your ability to grow and continue on together.
So, this is my introduction to this blog. My commitment to writing waxes and wanes, and as personal as this post is, I'll probably end up with a lot more posts about nothing much at all! We'll see. I chose the name for two reasons: Simple, because that's how I want things to be, and Ginger, because not only is it something that I love - to eat, to smell, to drink in yummy tea or beer! - but because it IS simple. I enjoy cooking, and as with any natural ingredients, ginger is one of those strong, recognizable, simple things that is both good and good FOR you - and those are the kinds of things I want in my life:
Strong, positive, simple things that make life good on their own.
I'm not usually one to describe things in my life as "blessed", but I feel that way more and more these days. Doing so denotes a belief in someone-doing-the-blessing - and despite my mother's best efforts, I don't think my Catholic upbringing has resulted in much more than an optimistic agnosticism. I do often feel like there is "SOMETHING out there", although I think I subscribe more to a Buddhist philosophy of our own interconnectedness, than to the ruling hand of God/guilt/sin...the sour taste of which reminds me only of the many people I've met whose hypocrisy in spiritual beliefs vs. everyday actions defies justification. I am open to other opinions on the matter, and I'm certain there are good Catholics out there...
Nevertheless, this is NOT a post about God. :)
This is a post about simplicity, life, love, doing the right thing, commitment, planning for the future, personal growth, sustainability, health, and positive thinking. This is about the fact that I am cautiously optimistic about the choices I've made in the past two years, and the growth that has come from that.
This is also about always having something new to learn.
I am trying on a daily basis to remove the unnecessary and unimportant things from my life. A recent, big help in this effort has been found from Zen Habits, a great blog about just that - simplifying your life, and the happiness that come from that. It was only a year ago that I moved out of an apartment and thus ended a stage in my life which was NOT simple, and on that day I consciously decided that purging the clutter was the first step on a much clearer road. This applied to all sorts of clutter - physical, mental, and even the "clutter" of people whose influence was not a positive one. It's worked. I still have some "things" to get rid of, but for the most part, everything I own is something I need - and yet, I'd be happy to get rid of even more if I ever need to. It's a good feeling, not being attached to physical things. It's also convenient when you're someone who moves a lot. ;) I've also removed a lot of the people and thoughts that caused more grief and anxiety than friendship, and although my circle of friends might be very small, I feel blessed by having such good people in my life.
Honesty, truth and trust in my friendships and relationships has been the second thing I've tried to focus on in the past two years. I have never been very good at keeping in touch with people at a distance, but I've tried harder to do so. (In the "Bane of my Existence" category, the award goes to Myspace, without which I probably would not have the continuous contact to a lot of my distant friends. Without it, however, I'd probably not have wasted so much free time over the past year! I've had more success at breaking that addiction these days - but still, having a link to all those distant friends in one place has been beneficial for me and made it easier to stay in touch - you just have to ignore the stalker/drama factor that everybody gets so worked up about.)
If you do not learn from your mistakes in life, and make conscious efforts to not repeat those mistakes, then you are living that basic definition of insanity: repeating the same action over and over again and expecting different results. If you learn from your mistakes, take note of the effect they had, and commit to keeping that in your mind to affect your choices in the future, I guarantee you will be a much happier person. I feel blessed right now because I feel like I am accomplishing that. I try to remain aware of how my words or actions might affect someone else - to treat people the way I want to be treated. I am by no means perfect at any of this, but it's the daily successes at doing so that make it worthwhile. I look back on people and events of the past two years and think about how much happier I am, and I'm certain that it's been the right way to go.
I am also really blessed when it comes to my relationship right now. I almost hesitate to admit how happy I really am, because in the grand scheme of things, it might still be "new", yet I am very satisfied with everything so far. I feel so lucky, every day. I've found this great person to spend my time with, someone who I believe has been honest with me, someone who really means it when he says he loves me, someone who I trust to do the right thing. I'm humbled by it, because I have spent so much time trying to grow and mature in all these other areas of my life, and I want to be as good to him every day as he has been to me. Unlike a lot of my other past relationships, I actually know that I am treating this person the way that I want to be treated, *and* I'm getting that in return. I am happy to go off and do my own thing, and happy to see him do his own thing, too - but I am also fulfilled by supporting him in his things - and I think he wants to support me in the things I do, too. It makes me happy to be trying to work out things in my own life, and yet to also have this person who I think really appreciates me, and who, I hope, knows that I appreciate him and adore him for all we've done together so far, and for all the dreams he has, and for all the ways I think we might be able to work together as time goes on. I want him to know that he has really helped make me a better person, too. He is mature and confident in himself, and that makes a huge difference. He has had a big influence on helping me figure out the things that are most important, and I really respect him for that. He has also stood by me through some really difficult things, and I think it's those sort of tests you need to go through in a relationship that strengthen your ability to grow and continue on together.
So, this is my introduction to this blog. My commitment to writing waxes and wanes, and as personal as this post is, I'll probably end up with a lot more posts about nothing much at all! We'll see. I chose the name for two reasons: Simple, because that's how I want things to be, and Ginger, because not only is it something that I love - to eat, to smell, to drink in yummy tea or beer! - but because it IS simple. I enjoy cooking, and as with any natural ingredients, ginger is one of those strong, recognizable, simple things that is both good and good FOR you - and those are the kinds of things I want in my life:
Strong, positive, simple things that make life good on their own.
3.21.2007
Not much time to write...
Note to self:
Myspace sucks more and more, and makes me miss this blog, and REAL writing. Thanks, Laura. ;)
Myspace sucks more and more, and makes me miss this blog, and REAL writing. Thanks, Laura. ;)
9.12.2006
Personal Ads
This is a repost (and edit) of a post I wrote at least a year ago. For those of you who didn't get here from myspace, I'm looking into doing some writing on the adoption topic for Adoption Media LLC. They are looking for contract writers for short (500 word) articles on various aspects of adoption. They want writing examples, and although this is long I think it is a good overview of my story - but I want feedback. ;) I'm trying to make this short and sweet - tell the story while showing the lack of detail most people have to go on - but it definitely needs work. Please comment!)
I was born in December 1976, in a small town in northeastern Pennsylvania. My mother spent her days as a sewing machine operator, when she found herself pregnant by a man without a high school education. He made his living driving trucks. She had graduated high school, and since then she had been pregnant four times. At least three of those pregnancies had resulted in the successful birth of a child. Throughout this pregnancy, she received no prenatal care. She was nearly 30.
The end.
Why is there no more to this story? Because I have no more to tell you. Did she have a large family, or none at all? Was she unmarried? Was she poor? For any of these reasons, or perhaps none of them, someone made the decision to place me for adoption. I can only thank them for that. She could have made another choice, and there would be no story at all.
At this same time, another man and woman lived only twenty minutes away, starting their lives together. They had recently purchased a home and moved out of their last apartment. He had landed a good job as a professor at a local college, and she was a secretary. Both were well-educated and well-traveled, and were ready to settle in to family life. For reasons I do not know, they made the decision to adopt children. A lawyer and family friend was consulted, and their wait began. Often, families can wait years for a newborn to adopt. I do not know how long their search had lasted. I was born. A call was made. She signed me away, the lawyer took me from the hospital, and brought me to the house I grew up in. The family who adopted me chose my name, the only one I ever knew until I learned the name my birthmother gave me for three short days - "Leann".
The questions this information alone brings are practically insurmountable! Am I part Irish? People always assume I am. Did she keep my older siblings? Where are they? Do they know about me? Was she married? Does my birthfather know about me? Does he have other children? Did I know any of them? Did I go to school with them? Are they alive?
In fact, the story doesn't really end there. Sixteen months went by. My parents wanted another child. (My parents - my adoptive family, and it's they who love me and I love them, and none of this curiosity changes that -- would it change it for you?) They talked only briefly to the same lawyer who handled my adoption - but he was looking out for them, and one night in April of 1978, they received his call. There was an infant boy being placed for adoption, and they could adopt him if they wanted.
They needed take the time to think it through. They talked. They called him back. They said yes.
“I'm glad you've made that decision,” the lawyer said, “because I’ve found out that he is your daughter's biological sibling.” Of course, he'd known, but couldn't say, because that would have swayed their decision to do something that they needed to decide without obligation. So I had a brother - a birthbrother, an adoptive brother, a "real" brother.
I have no idea if my birthmother knew. Did the lawyer tell her that he might go to the same family? I assume that she would have contacted the same lawyer when deciding to go through adoption again. Was this her intention? Not to get pregnant, but to keep us together? Was she religious? Does that explain the apparent lack of birth control, at her age?
Often, I have to stop and question the validity of some of this. Not that I doubt the words of my parents, or those of the lawyer who told them it was so. But was she telling the truth? Even if he's a half-brother to me, it's still a rare occurrence and I have yet to come across anyone else with the same experience. What was my birthfather's role in all of this? Did she have to do it alone? Did he make her do it? What did her family think?
The information I learned about my birthparents came only recently. I finally took the time to call the Orphans' Court in the county of my birth and request my "non-id" (non-identifying information). I could send them a more detailed letter and request all medical information, for the sake of myself, and my own child. If I take more time, I could request that they make an attempt to contact them, or dig through their ancient and unorganized records, to see if they've agreed to contact should I ever seek it out. Why haven’t I done that yet? Time, money, energy, other obligations...and, what then? Yes, I want to know, but once you reach the point of contact, there is fear. What will she say? Does she really want to know me anyway? What if she hangs up the phone? What if she's dead?
I look at this from a new perspective than I had four years ago. I know, from my own personal experience, what she may be feeling. I myself have placed a child for adoption - but I know where he is, and I know he is happy. I know his name and when the time comes, if he chooses, he can know mine. Knowledge is sometimes all you need. I cannot imagine having made the decision I did if I were to have given up knowledge as well. My birthmother did not have that option. State officials at that time, and even now, believed it to be in the best interests of all involved if information was sealed away. In some cases, perhaps it is - but that is not their decision to make. People like me are left exhausted with efforts that move at a snail's pace. Files in basements, unsympathetic secretaries, wrong phone numbers, changed addresses, deceased participants in the adoption process; the changes of twenty-nine years add up to huge hurdles. You have to keep the faith in that next demanding letter, another online registry, a few more posts here and there that someone who recognizes this story might read...any of this might lead to the one thing I don’t have – a name.
I know who I am. My life has taken the course it has without this gap being filled. If I never know, the effect of not knowing will be subtle. I may not even give it much thought until there is no time left to search. But the thought that really keeps this going is that I'm not the only one who doesn't know. My birthmother and birthfather are somewhere. My birthsiblings are somewhere. They have to be wondering about it, too, don't they?
It must be hard for anyone who is not adopted to understand how this feels. Imagine tracing back your family tree. I have. We can trace my father's side of the family back before the Civil War. We have letters a distant uncle wrote from that time. I, like my father, love history. The lines of families through time is an intricate web that we're all a part of, as I am part of my family’s web. But that man from the Civil War didn't look like me. I do feel that he is part of my family, and that I am part of his. Yet somewhere, there is another family tree that has me on it as well. I'm very lucky to have that as a part of myself - but I have to find it first.
So, I’m left with what little I have, and a personal ad. No long walks on the beach, no list of likes and dislikes, no stipulations on looking for “just friends” or “something more” – if you want to answer my ad, I’ll take anything you have. It goes like this:
12/9/76. Female adoptee in search of birthmother, birthfather and siblings; Born in Hazleton, PA at St. Joseph's Medical Center, 7:33 p.m. by Dr. Arthur Koch; May have three older siblings; Birthmother near 30 at time of birth, sewing machine operator; Birthfather a truck driver; Named child "Leann" before adoption. Birthmother also had son 4/11/78, also placed for adoption.
Does this sound like you?
I was born in December 1976, in a small town in northeastern Pennsylvania. My mother spent her days as a sewing machine operator, when she found herself pregnant by a man without a high school education. He made his living driving trucks. She had graduated high school, and since then she had been pregnant four times. At least three of those pregnancies had resulted in the successful birth of a child. Throughout this pregnancy, she received no prenatal care. She was nearly 30.
The end.
Why is there no more to this story? Because I have no more to tell you. Did she have a large family, or none at all? Was she unmarried? Was she poor? For any of these reasons, or perhaps none of them, someone made the decision to place me for adoption. I can only thank them for that. She could have made another choice, and there would be no story at all.
At this same time, another man and woman lived only twenty minutes away, starting their lives together. They had recently purchased a home and moved out of their last apartment. He had landed a good job as a professor at a local college, and she was a secretary. Both were well-educated and well-traveled, and were ready to settle in to family life. For reasons I do not know, they made the decision to adopt children. A lawyer and family friend was consulted, and their wait began. Often, families can wait years for a newborn to adopt. I do not know how long their search had lasted. I was born. A call was made. She signed me away, the lawyer took me from the hospital, and brought me to the house I grew up in. The family who adopted me chose my name, the only one I ever knew until I learned the name my birthmother gave me for three short days - "Leann".
The questions this information alone brings are practically insurmountable! Am I part Irish? People always assume I am. Did she keep my older siblings? Where are they? Do they know about me? Was she married? Does my birthfather know about me? Does he have other children? Did I know any of them? Did I go to school with them? Are they alive?
In fact, the story doesn't really end there. Sixteen months went by. My parents wanted another child. (My parents - my adoptive family, and it's they who love me and I love them, and none of this curiosity changes that -- would it change it for you?) They talked only briefly to the same lawyer who handled my adoption - but he was looking out for them, and one night in April of 1978, they received his call. There was an infant boy being placed for adoption, and they could adopt him if they wanted.
They needed take the time to think it through. They talked. They called him back. They said yes.
“I'm glad you've made that decision,” the lawyer said, “because I’ve found out that he is your daughter's biological sibling.” Of course, he'd known, but couldn't say, because that would have swayed their decision to do something that they needed to decide without obligation. So I had a brother - a birthbrother, an adoptive brother, a "real" brother.
I have no idea if my birthmother knew. Did the lawyer tell her that he might go to the same family? I assume that she would have contacted the same lawyer when deciding to go through adoption again. Was this her intention? Not to get pregnant, but to keep us together? Was she religious? Does that explain the apparent lack of birth control, at her age?
Often, I have to stop and question the validity of some of this. Not that I doubt the words of my parents, or those of the lawyer who told them it was so. But was she telling the truth? Even if he's a half-brother to me, it's still a rare occurrence and I have yet to come across anyone else with the same experience. What was my birthfather's role in all of this? Did she have to do it alone? Did he make her do it? What did her family think?
The information I learned about my birthparents came only recently. I finally took the time to call the Orphans' Court in the county of my birth and request my "non-id" (non-identifying information). I could send them a more detailed letter and request all medical information, for the sake of myself, and my own child. If I take more time, I could request that they make an attempt to contact them, or dig through their ancient and unorganized records, to see if they've agreed to contact should I ever seek it out. Why haven’t I done that yet? Time, money, energy, other obligations...and, what then? Yes, I want to know, but once you reach the point of contact, there is fear. What will she say? Does she really want to know me anyway? What if she hangs up the phone? What if she's dead?
I look at this from a new perspective than I had four years ago. I know, from my own personal experience, what she may be feeling. I myself have placed a child for adoption - but I know where he is, and I know he is happy. I know his name and when the time comes, if he chooses, he can know mine. Knowledge is sometimes all you need. I cannot imagine having made the decision I did if I were to have given up knowledge as well. My birthmother did not have that option. State officials at that time, and even now, believed it to be in the best interests of all involved if information was sealed away. In some cases, perhaps it is - but that is not their decision to make. People like me are left exhausted with efforts that move at a snail's pace. Files in basements, unsympathetic secretaries, wrong phone numbers, changed addresses, deceased participants in the adoption process; the changes of twenty-nine years add up to huge hurdles. You have to keep the faith in that next demanding letter, another online registry, a few more posts here and there that someone who recognizes this story might read...any of this might lead to the one thing I don’t have – a name.
I know who I am. My life has taken the course it has without this gap being filled. If I never know, the effect of not knowing will be subtle. I may not even give it much thought until there is no time left to search. But the thought that really keeps this going is that I'm not the only one who doesn't know. My birthmother and birthfather are somewhere. My birthsiblings are somewhere. They have to be wondering about it, too, don't they?
It must be hard for anyone who is not adopted to understand how this feels. Imagine tracing back your family tree. I have. We can trace my father's side of the family back before the Civil War. We have letters a distant uncle wrote from that time. I, like my father, love history. The lines of families through time is an intricate web that we're all a part of, as I am part of my family’s web. But that man from the Civil War didn't look like me. I do feel that he is part of my family, and that I am part of his. Yet somewhere, there is another family tree that has me on it as well. I'm very lucky to have that as a part of myself - but I have to find it first.
So, I’m left with what little I have, and a personal ad. No long walks on the beach, no list of likes and dislikes, no stipulations on looking for “just friends” or “something more” – if you want to answer my ad, I’ll take anything you have. It goes like this:
12/9/76. Female adoptee in search of birthmother, birthfather and siblings; Born in Hazleton, PA at St. Joseph's Medical Center, 7:33 p.m. by Dr. Arthur Koch; May have three older siblings; Birthmother near 30 at time of birth, sewing machine operator; Birthfather a truck driver; Named child "Leann" before adoption. Birthmother also had son 4/11/78, also placed for adoption.
Does this sound like you?
6.22.2006
Secrets and Lies
(original post 6/20/06)
It's funny, the way you think your year will go in January, and how different it looks behind you in June.
I started to prepare and convince myself of a number of things, six months ago. The biggest one being that I would no longer be married, and that I would probably move out of State College, hopefully out of Pennsylvania in general. I was sure I'd also finally learn to play guitar, since I've owned one forever and would like to have something musical to do besides singing in the car. I hoped that I would be filling a lot of my time writing...and writing something productive, insightful, and publishable. There were a lot of other smaller, material goals...pay off some bills, throw out a bunch of junk I've been carrying around with me for 3, 4, 5 years or more, and put more time into other creative things, like photography and cooking.
I had other goals too, that had nothing to do with places and things. I needed to work on being more honest with myself, and listen to my feelings about things and acting on them, instead of hiding behind the way I thought I was *supposed to* be...something that had become more the norm for me, in order to make others happy, and not myself. Being honest with myself, of course, meant being honest with everyone else, too. Small concept, big consequences. I was also sure that I had some really close friendships developing, and I was commited to focusing a lot of energy on other people, because it's been a long time since I've had friends I felt this close to. Having a couple people in your life that know nearly everything about you...people you don't really hold anything back from...does wonders for your confidence and your closeness with everyone else. All this energy being focused on other people hasn't always been the best thing for me, though...but it's my habit...and I think a bad part of myself that I still need to work on is focusing more on my own goals and responsibilities, and not putting so much of myself into my relationships with other people. But I love them, and it makes me happy and restores my karma, so I'm just constantly trying to find the balance. :)
So needless to say, it's six months later, and I haven't moved. I still think it might happen by the end of the year, but there is a lot that would need to happen before that...and the details are what might hold me back. Mainly money, and school...I need to finish 6-9 credits before I leave, and they MUST be completed by the end of this fall. I'm legally seperated but not "officially" divorced, but getting there. Some parts of it are a hassle more than anything (but easier than you would expect it to be, I guess). I haven't picked up the guitar. (I'm left handed and it's not. That's my excuse!) I've written more in 2006 than I did in 2005, so I suppose I should be happy with that....but most of it is blogging, journaling, mediocre poetry, and to-do-lists. :) I did write some nice opinion pieces and letters to the editor for the paper, about local things. That's kinda nice, I guess. The little stuff? Paid off some bills, but accrued others; been slacking on the photography, but my camera, I've discovered, pretty much sucks. It's just too old. Cooking...eh. I made some good wing sauce, an awesome batch of chicken parm, a couple different Indian recipes...nothing that exciting. I want to cook for more people. Cooking elaborate meals for myself kinda sucks. I am feeling kinda crafty though...there were these awesome things we used to make as kids that I want to do...Cat's Eyes, I think they're called? Sticks and yarn. :) But they're fun.
Man, am I fucking rambling on about nothing, or what?! You really don't have to read all this. ;)
My emotional ties to people run very deep. Very little ever really "ends". I know you can never maintain that many really close relationships at one time, but I'm certainly one to try. Since my grandiose ideas of total honesty with myself and others have become so important to me, I'm battling a tiny little bi-product of that which I'm not too sure how to deal with. How much *should* people really know? What if I want someone to know something, just to make myself feel better, but in the end that knowledge might be more harmful or hurtful than good? Maybe I should just leave that up to the recipient...but what secrets should you really keep? *sigh* I think these questions might remain unanswered. On one hand, my life as open book is quite fine with me. At this point, I don't think there are any questions, from any person, on any subject, that I wouldn't answer...but that seems like overkill. I guess it might be just a selfish desire...to not feel like I'm lying..or cheating...or stealing...or hurting...anyone, ever. Is that too much to ask? ;)
I don't want to be hostile
And I don't want to be dismal
But I don't want to rot in
An apathetic existance
See, I want to believe you
And I wanted to trust you
And I want to have faith to
Put away the dagger
But you lie, cheat and steal
You lie, cheat and steal
You lie, cheat and steal
And yet I tolerate you
You lie, cheat and steal
You lie, cheat and steal
You lie, cheat and steal
And yet I tolerate you
Veil of virtue hung to hide your method
While I smiling and laughing and dance
And sing and praise your glory
Shroud of virtue hung to mask your stigma
As I smile and laugh and dance
And sing your glory
While you
Lie, cheat and steal
You lie, cheat and steal
You lie, cheat and steal
How can I tolerate you?
You lie, cheat and steal
You lie, cheat and steal
You lie, cheat and steal
How can I tolerate?
Our guilt, our blame
I've been far too sympathetic
Our blood, our fault
I've been far too sympathetic
I am not innocent
You are not innocent
No one is innocent
You lie, cheat and steal
You lie, cheat and steal
You lie, cheat and steal
You lie, cheat and steal
I will no longer tolerate you
Even if I must go down beside you
I must go down beside you
No one is innocent
~Tool, Intolerance
It's funny, the way you think your year will go in January, and how different it looks behind you in June.
I started to prepare and convince myself of a number of things, six months ago. The biggest one being that I would no longer be married, and that I would probably move out of State College, hopefully out of Pennsylvania in general. I was sure I'd also finally learn to play guitar, since I've owned one forever and would like to have something musical to do besides singing in the car. I hoped that I would be filling a lot of my time writing...and writing something productive, insightful, and publishable. There were a lot of other smaller, material goals...pay off some bills, throw out a bunch of junk I've been carrying around with me for 3, 4, 5 years or more, and put more time into other creative things, like photography and cooking.
I had other goals too, that had nothing to do with places and things. I needed to work on being more honest with myself, and listen to my feelings about things and acting on them, instead of hiding behind the way I thought I was *supposed to* be...something that had become more the norm for me, in order to make others happy, and not myself. Being honest with myself, of course, meant being honest with everyone else, too. Small concept, big consequences. I was also sure that I had some really close friendships developing, and I was commited to focusing a lot of energy on other people, because it's been a long time since I've had friends I felt this close to. Having a couple people in your life that know nearly everything about you...people you don't really hold anything back from...does wonders for your confidence and your closeness with everyone else. All this energy being focused on other people hasn't always been the best thing for me, though...but it's my habit...and I think a bad part of myself that I still need to work on is focusing more on my own goals and responsibilities, and not putting so much of myself into my relationships with other people. But I love them, and it makes me happy and restores my karma, so I'm just constantly trying to find the balance. :)
So needless to say, it's six months later, and I haven't moved. I still think it might happen by the end of the year, but there is a lot that would need to happen before that...and the details are what might hold me back. Mainly money, and school...I need to finish 6-9 credits before I leave, and they MUST be completed by the end of this fall. I'm legally seperated but not "officially" divorced, but getting there. Some parts of it are a hassle more than anything (but easier than you would expect it to be, I guess). I haven't picked up the guitar. (I'm left handed and it's not. That's my excuse!) I've written more in 2006 than I did in 2005, so I suppose I should be happy with that....but most of it is blogging, journaling, mediocre poetry, and to-do-lists. :) I did write some nice opinion pieces and letters to the editor for the paper, about local things. That's kinda nice, I guess. The little stuff? Paid off some bills, but accrued others; been slacking on the photography, but my camera, I've discovered, pretty much sucks. It's just too old. Cooking...eh. I made some good wing sauce, an awesome batch of chicken parm, a couple different Indian recipes...nothing that exciting. I want to cook for more people. Cooking elaborate meals for myself kinda sucks. I am feeling kinda crafty though...there were these awesome things we used to make as kids that I want to do...Cat's Eyes, I think they're called? Sticks and yarn. :) But they're fun.
Man, am I fucking rambling on about nothing, or what?! You really don't have to read all this. ;)
My emotional ties to people run very deep. Very little ever really "ends". I know you can never maintain that many really close relationships at one time, but I'm certainly one to try. Since my grandiose ideas of total honesty with myself and others have become so important to me, I'm battling a tiny little bi-product of that which I'm not too sure how to deal with. How much *should* people really know? What if I want someone to know something, just to make myself feel better, but in the end that knowledge might be more harmful or hurtful than good? Maybe I should just leave that up to the recipient...but what secrets should you really keep? *sigh* I think these questions might remain unanswered. On one hand, my life as open book is quite fine with me. At this point, I don't think there are any questions, from any person, on any subject, that I wouldn't answer...but that seems like overkill. I guess it might be just a selfish desire...to not feel like I'm lying..or cheating...or stealing...or hurting...anyone, ever. Is that too much to ask? ;)
I don't want to be hostile
And I don't want to be dismal
But I don't want to rot in
An apathetic existance
See, I want to believe you
And I wanted to trust you
And I want to have faith to
Put away the dagger
But you lie, cheat and steal
You lie, cheat and steal
You lie, cheat and steal
And yet I tolerate you
You lie, cheat and steal
You lie, cheat and steal
You lie, cheat and steal
And yet I tolerate you
Veil of virtue hung to hide your method
While I smiling and laughing and dance
And sing and praise your glory
Shroud of virtue hung to mask your stigma
As I smile and laugh and dance
And sing your glory
While you
Lie, cheat and steal
You lie, cheat and steal
You lie, cheat and steal
How can I tolerate you?
You lie, cheat and steal
You lie, cheat and steal
You lie, cheat and steal
How can I tolerate?
Our guilt, our blame
I've been far too sympathetic
Our blood, our fault
I've been far too sympathetic
I am not innocent
You are not innocent
No one is innocent
You lie, cheat and steal
You lie, cheat and steal
You lie, cheat and steal
You lie, cheat and steal
I will no longer tolerate you
Even if I must go down beside you
I must go down beside you
No one is innocent
~Tool, Intolerance
Planetary Pranksters and Stuff That Sucks, or Divine Intervention and Staying Honest
(original post 6/15/06)
So what if I read my horoscope all the time?! So what if it's always right?!
This week needs to goddamn end. :) This post needs to be amusing and easgoing instead of pissed off and stressed....usually writing makes me feel better, so that's the goal.
Just a small recount of the shit that's happened to me this week that has put me in such an irritated mood...even though I'm trying my best to take a deep breath and laugh:
-unpaid parking ticket that was not supposed to be paid by me did not get paid...i come home for lunch on monday and receive a warrant for my arrest. :) get to drive to the atm w/ constable following close behind and retrieve $80 for the cause.
-big ass truck on the highway throws dirt and dust at my car, and only later do i realize there's a huge crack in my windshield. cannot afford to fix it. don't know yet if insurance will cover it. probably not.
-wallet gets left behind in bldg i work in. no big deal, people here are trustworthy, right? wrong. stolen. lose $30, plus $10 to replace driver's license, plus had to cancel the atm/check card, and must now wait 7-10 days for the new one. i don't have a local bank, so i don't really have any access to my money. must still write someone a check so i can get cash.
-after wallet gets stolen, gas tank is on E. having no cash, i go to uni-mart to write a check. only after i put $10 do i find out they don't take checks. at least the guy let me come back 5 hours later to pay.
-i'm broke. between losing the cash in my wallet, paying the parking ticket, and finding out that my last car insurance payment didn't get taken out of my ex's account like they had told me it did....i don't really even have enough money to eat & drive for the month, let alone have any goddamn fun.
-i left my lunch on my porch. :( i can't drive home to get it because i don't have enough gas to drive back and forth, nor the money to afford to do so. the cats are gonna eat it.
-someone who was going to take one of the kittens can't now. tally is back at four, but i'm pursuing other options.
on top of all these concrete things (or because of them), on the outside i'm ok and on the inside i'm a big knot. i'm feeling hyper-senisitve and nervous about saying or doing the wrong thing and hurting someone. i'm also really anxious about potentially making a fool of myself. i'm still pretty sure that blunt honesty is the way to go (otherwise i wouldn't be writing!). i rely too much on other people to make me happy, but i sure do need them now. i really want to do something this weekend that is fun, free, outdoors, relaxing, social, and involves being with the people i love. i'd also be open to winning the lottery.
*sigh*
ok. i hate to be the downer so i'm forcing myself to end on a happy note, and then go about the rest of my day acting like i've taken this blog and burned it in the wind. :) happy note, happy note....hmmm....
i had a great night. :) i'm glad i went out. tonight's plans have had a wrench throw in 'em (TD's canceled, kids - whaddya want to do now?), but i'm thinking that might not end up being that bad. i can't afford our lifestyle anyway. ;) we'll have fun somehow. i also am debating about intervening in something that is totally none of my business...but i'm pretty sure a long distance friend of mine, who is way more on the same page as me than he'd ever realize, needs to cheer the fuck up, realize his own worth, stay a little more sober, and see that there's a nice young girl out there who is trying make him happy... *she is soo cute and seems like a total doll*, and he needs someone positive in his life, me thinks. and i barely know him. :) hee hee. for some reason the intervention makes me giddy.
i love my friends. Even more than 107 of them. :)
alright. i'm in a better mood now. time for cup of coffee number three.
So what if I read my horoscope all the time?! So what if it's always right?!
This week needs to goddamn end. :) This post needs to be amusing and easgoing instead of pissed off and stressed....usually writing makes me feel better, so that's the goal.
Just a small recount of the shit that's happened to me this week that has put me in such an irritated mood...even though I'm trying my best to take a deep breath and laugh:
-unpaid parking ticket that was not supposed to be paid by me did not get paid...i come home for lunch on monday and receive a warrant for my arrest. :) get to drive to the atm w/ constable following close behind and retrieve $80 for the cause.
-big ass truck on the highway throws dirt and dust at my car, and only later do i realize there's a huge crack in my windshield. cannot afford to fix it. don't know yet if insurance will cover it. probably not.
-wallet gets left behind in bldg i work in. no big deal, people here are trustworthy, right? wrong. stolen. lose $30, plus $10 to replace driver's license, plus had to cancel the atm/check card, and must now wait 7-10 days for the new one. i don't have a local bank, so i don't really have any access to my money. must still write someone a check so i can get cash.
-after wallet gets stolen, gas tank is on E. having no cash, i go to uni-mart to write a check. only after i put $10 do i find out they don't take checks. at least the guy let me come back 5 hours later to pay.
-i'm broke. between losing the cash in my wallet, paying the parking ticket, and finding out that my last car insurance payment didn't get taken out of my ex's account like they had told me it did....i don't really even have enough money to eat & drive for the month, let alone have any goddamn fun.
-i left my lunch on my porch. :( i can't drive home to get it because i don't have enough gas to drive back and forth, nor the money to afford to do so. the cats are gonna eat it.
-someone who was going to take one of the kittens can't now. tally is back at four, but i'm pursuing other options.
on top of all these concrete things (or because of them), on the outside i'm ok and on the inside i'm a big knot. i'm feeling hyper-senisitve and nervous about saying or doing the wrong thing and hurting someone. i'm also really anxious about potentially making a fool of myself. i'm still pretty sure that blunt honesty is the way to go (otherwise i wouldn't be writing!). i rely too much on other people to make me happy, but i sure do need them now. i really want to do something this weekend that is fun, free, outdoors, relaxing, social, and involves being with the people i love. i'd also be open to winning the lottery.
*sigh*
ok. i hate to be the downer so i'm forcing myself to end on a happy note, and then go about the rest of my day acting like i've taken this blog and burned it in the wind. :) happy note, happy note....hmmm....
i had a great night. :) i'm glad i went out. tonight's plans have had a wrench throw in 'em (TD's canceled, kids - whaddya want to do now?), but i'm thinking that might not end up being that bad. i can't afford our lifestyle anyway. ;) we'll have fun somehow. i also am debating about intervening in something that is totally none of my business...but i'm pretty sure a long distance friend of mine, who is way more on the same page as me than he'd ever realize, needs to cheer the fuck up, realize his own worth, stay a little more sober, and see that there's a nice young girl out there who is trying make him happy... *she is soo cute and seems like a total doll*, and he needs someone positive in his life, me thinks. and i barely know him. :) hee hee. for some reason the intervention makes me giddy.
i love my friends. Even more than 107 of them. :)
alright. i'm in a better mood now. time for cup of coffee number three.
6.14.2006
ah, blog. i'm sorry i'm neglecting you for myspace again. perhaps if i revamped you to include the fun stuff like music, slideshows, and pictures of my friends, i wouldn't spend so much time there. but it's kind of telling....when i'm there, i'm obviously being irresponsible, reckless, youthful and toying with sin. :) when i'm here, i'm being introspective, serious, responsible and taking stock of my priorities. i know, you're like the mom. no, you're the angel on one shoulder. it follows that myspace is the devil on the other side. but i'm way better friends with him. i just wanted to let you know that i'm having a crappy week. i feel weird but i can't put my finger on it. a little sad, a little lonely, a little like a failure, a little embarrassed at my lack of responsibility, a little unloved. so i need the angel on my shoulder - i need those priorities and responsibility. but it's been difficult to pull myself away from mr. devil on the other shoulder - he's cute and sexy and he makes me spend all my money, and then he leaves me feeling used. ;) mr. angel, i just wish you'd be willing to get me drunk every once in awhile. i know that's not really necessary and might be the source of my problems, but mr. angel, you're just not much fun. perhaps i need to give you a second chance though. i'm really trying to be good. or at least, that's my plan...and we all know how plans have a way of unravelling these days, at least mine.
alright...that's all. just wanted to say hi. :)
alright...that's all. just wanted to say hi. :)
4.18.2006
Post with no direction. :)
Road trip for work, to Maryland. Saw TWO Bald Eagles on the drive. Beautiful...I mean, really beautiful. They were absolutely amazing to see, flying over the rivers, on a gorgeous, crystal clear spring day. There wasn't a second of our drive down or back that I wasn't just staring out the windows with my jaw dropped. Everything went from brown and gray, to pink and yellow and minty green and purple and blue...all in one weekend, it seems. Breathtaking.
I feel as though, over the past two weeks or so, I've been holding back from people, somewhat. I'm not really sure why. I think it's ok...I don't feel like it's a bad thing...I think it's an issue of self-protection, perhaps. Anyway, even though I'm alright with it right now, I hope I can slough it off soon. It's not like me to hold back. Really. But, as usually happens, writing something like that tends to turn things around...so we shall see.
I have a shitload of work to finish up over the next three days...and since Thursday is a holiday, I'll be leaving work early, so I've gotta get my shit together tomorrow and get crackin'. FYI: I don't dislike my job anymore. It was other things I disliked, that were affecting my job. HOWEVER, I'm still very, very unhappy with the whole lack of windows thing, and I would pretty much give up my ability to walk if someone would offer me a desk near a window...preferably an open window...or more specifically, why don't we just carry my desk outside and I'll run a cord out to the phone. I'm sure the wireless internet will work right outside the door. Ok? Seriously, I AM NOT built to work in an office. It's driving me fucking crazy. Who does this shit for 20-some years? I'll wither away first.
So as to not end this on such a dreary note...I might actually make it through this month without being down to my last $5, but only if the gas stops going up so much. I already have some beer for the tailgate on Saturday! and plans for next weekend that shouldn't involve much money at all (spring cleaning at Camp Kilroy!). Soooo....if I can be good in the middle of the week and not drive around too much, May might not be so hard to wait for after all. :)
And oh yes, before I forget, because God knows I'm not keeping up with this anymore but it's still fun to suggest:
Really Good Driving Song: Every Time You Say Goodbye - Alison Kraus & Union Station
I feel as though, over the past two weeks or so, I've been holding back from people, somewhat. I'm not really sure why. I think it's ok...I don't feel like it's a bad thing...I think it's an issue of self-protection, perhaps. Anyway, even though I'm alright with it right now, I hope I can slough it off soon. It's not like me to hold back. Really. But, as usually happens, writing something like that tends to turn things around...so we shall see.
I have a shitload of work to finish up over the next three days...and since Thursday is a holiday, I'll be leaving work early, so I've gotta get my shit together tomorrow and get crackin'. FYI: I don't dislike my job anymore. It was other things I disliked, that were affecting my job. HOWEVER, I'm still very, very unhappy with the whole lack of windows thing, and I would pretty much give up my ability to walk if someone would offer me a desk near a window...preferably an open window...or more specifically, why don't we just carry my desk outside and I'll run a cord out to the phone. I'm sure the wireless internet will work right outside the door. Ok? Seriously, I AM NOT built to work in an office. It's driving me fucking crazy. Who does this shit for 20-some years? I'll wither away first.
So as to not end this on such a dreary note...I might actually make it through this month without being down to my last $5, but only if the gas stops going up so much. I already have some beer for the tailgate on Saturday! and plans for next weekend that shouldn't involve much money at all (spring cleaning at Camp Kilroy!). Soooo....if I can be good in the middle of the week and not drive around too much, May might not be so hard to wait for after all. :)
And oh yes, before I forget, because God knows I'm not keeping up with this anymore but it's still fun to suggest:
Really Good Driving Song: Every Time You Say Goodbye - Alison Kraus & Union Station
4.13.2006
The Observationist
Across the street from my office is a large open field. I think they plant soybeans or something there, I'm not sure. For the past few months, though, it's been home to a few seemingly content groundhogs, whose presence has as little bearing on our work as ours has on theirs. I've watched them venture across this plot, popping up out of the various holes they've cleared for themselves. I've watched the little groundhog babies try to follow an adult out across the hill, and watched that adult scurry off as fast as possible to get out of their sight, until their nervousness gets the best of them and they duck back down below the earth.
Out walking in the woods that borders this field, I've twice seen a flock of about 20 wild turkeys. Once I nearly snuck up on them (which, if you don't know, is very hard to do), and saw one of the males displaying his feathers as he strutted up slowly behind the rest of the females. He seemed unperturbed...or unaware...of my presence.
There are redtailed hawks, black vultures, ravens, kestrels, mockingbirds, robins, and blue jays; there are grey squirrels, red squirrels, chipmunks, rabbits, more groundhogs...and cows, in the fields further down. There are oak trees, elms, cedars, maples, birch, and others I probably can't identify. There are countless insects and wildflowers.
If I sat on a city street for a few hours, alone, I would be content to take in the interactions of those around me. If I sat on the same street many days or weeks in a row, I'm sure I'd see the same people, and similar interactions, and maybe even start to know some of them...without actually speaking to them. People's patterns aren't that different from animals, and no more difficult to observe. It just takes patience, and maybe some ability to disconnect from yourself.
When I talk about getting to know people better, it's this kind of observation that I use. Taking in all the nature around me over an hour lunch break, once or twice a week for the past few months, has made me understand this little ecosystem that we exist next to for forty hours a week. Taking in all the people around me, every word, action, inaction, gesture, look, conversation, detail or nuance...it's the same skill, the same way of taking in my surroundings. No one sat me down and said, this is what this field is like, this is where the predators are, this is where that path leads, this is the fence between this man's land and that...but without any direction, it didn't take long to figure it out for myself. In the same way, no one will sit me down and say this is how I am, this is how I act, this is how I react to things, my likes, dislikes, the things that make me happy or the things that make me angry. You might get that from close friends, but you certainly won't get that from people you don't know well, or strangers. But it's there, and it's easy to see. You just have to figure out how to put it all together. You just have to know how to look.
Out walking in the woods that borders this field, I've twice seen a flock of about 20 wild turkeys. Once I nearly snuck up on them (which, if you don't know, is very hard to do), and saw one of the males displaying his feathers as he strutted up slowly behind the rest of the females. He seemed unperturbed...or unaware...of my presence.
There are redtailed hawks, black vultures, ravens, kestrels, mockingbirds, robins, and blue jays; there are grey squirrels, red squirrels, chipmunks, rabbits, more groundhogs...and cows, in the fields further down. There are oak trees, elms, cedars, maples, birch, and others I probably can't identify. There are countless insects and wildflowers.
If I sat on a city street for a few hours, alone, I would be content to take in the interactions of those around me. If I sat on the same street many days or weeks in a row, I'm sure I'd see the same people, and similar interactions, and maybe even start to know some of them...without actually speaking to them. People's patterns aren't that different from animals, and no more difficult to observe. It just takes patience, and maybe some ability to disconnect from yourself.
When I talk about getting to know people better, it's this kind of observation that I use. Taking in all the nature around me over an hour lunch break, once or twice a week for the past few months, has made me understand this little ecosystem that we exist next to for forty hours a week. Taking in all the people around me, every word, action, inaction, gesture, look, conversation, detail or nuance...it's the same skill, the same way of taking in my surroundings. No one sat me down and said, this is what this field is like, this is where the predators are, this is where that path leads, this is the fence between this man's land and that...but without any direction, it didn't take long to figure it out for myself. In the same way, no one will sit me down and say this is how I am, this is how I act, this is how I react to things, my likes, dislikes, the things that make me happy or the things that make me angry. You might get that from close friends, but you certainly won't get that from people you don't know well, or strangers. But it's there, and it's easy to see. You just have to figure out how to put it all together. You just have to know how to look.
4.11.2006
Onward
Tell me I am not selfish. Tell me how to balance the amount of time I need to spend alone, on myself, on my goals, doing the things I need to do to feel fulfilled...tell me how to balance these things. I am alone...newly, expectedly, and gratifyingly (although somewhat unofficially) single, and now the only struggles are within myself.
It seems as though most people equate “single” with “available”, which is obvious every time someone assumes that I’m already out looking for a relationship. That assumption is reinforced by the fact that I am female, and a single woman who is happy with that status is both rare and peculiar. Moments of weakness or loneliness spring up, of course...we’re social creatures. We need love to survive. It’s the level of maturity I require from the love I need that is keeping me grounded.
It’s the slowness. I’ve always rushed in to things. Dive in head first, why not, it’s exciting...how can such immediate connections be wrong? What I mean by the level of maturity, though, is that I’ve been making a conscious decision to actually – GASP! – get to know people better. Now that I know I’m not in any hurry (and, while I’m on that – WHY was I before?), it’s so much more satisfying to get to the root of someone else with patience and sincerity.
The only hindrance to this is passion. It’s so easy to get caught up in those little shocks your heart is giving you...easy enough to forget that what seems true one day might not be so true the next. Lucky for us all, the truth has a way of coming to the surface, and lucky too, it seldom takes as long as you’d expect. If I can swallow that eagerness, I might just end up much more sure of what I have.
So, tell me I am not selfish. I have much to do, and lots of ways I need to grow up...but I am not selfish. I think maybe I’m just lucky – in everything and everyone that I DO have right now. Trying to remember that and treat it for what it’s worth is everything...and what’s funny is, as I’m learning this, I feel like I actually have more love in my life than I’ve had for a long, long time.
It seems as though most people equate “single” with “available”, which is obvious every time someone assumes that I’m already out looking for a relationship. That assumption is reinforced by the fact that I am female, and a single woman who is happy with that status is both rare and peculiar. Moments of weakness or loneliness spring up, of course...we’re social creatures. We need love to survive. It’s the level of maturity I require from the love I need that is keeping me grounded.
It’s the slowness. I’ve always rushed in to things. Dive in head first, why not, it’s exciting...how can such immediate connections be wrong? What I mean by the level of maturity, though, is that I’ve been making a conscious decision to actually – GASP! – get to know people better. Now that I know I’m not in any hurry (and, while I’m on that – WHY was I before?), it’s so much more satisfying to get to the root of someone else with patience and sincerity.
The only hindrance to this is passion. It’s so easy to get caught up in those little shocks your heart is giving you...easy enough to forget that what seems true one day might not be so true the next. Lucky for us all, the truth has a way of coming to the surface, and lucky too, it seldom takes as long as you’d expect. If I can swallow that eagerness, I might just end up much more sure of what I have.
So, tell me I am not selfish. I have much to do, and lots of ways I need to grow up...but I am not selfish. I think maybe I’m just lucky – in everything and everyone that I DO have right now. Trying to remember that and treat it for what it’s worth is everything...and what’s funny is, as I’m learning this, I feel like I actually have more love in my life than I’ve had for a long, long time.
4.05.2006
(untitled)
This weather, like my moods -
Spring winter spring,
Sun snow sun,
Breeze wind breeze.
Love sadness love,
Weathervanes spinning like tops,
Cycles in the season,
Cycles in days.
Spring winter spring,
Sun snow sun,
Breeze wind breeze.
Love sadness love,
Weathervanes spinning like tops,
Cycles in the season,
Cycles in days.
4.04.2006
No Caffeine and Still Awake
Ok, so the journal typing is slow-going. I came home from work late (stayed late to make up for the THREE HOURS I was home over lunch waiting for the cable modem dude), and I'm not quite sure what I did with the next three hours. Cooked, tried to take some pics of me and my cat, rearranged some furniture, still more of that to do...have I mentioned I own a lot of CRAP?! Ugh.
I need a good old fashioned fire. If this house hadn't already burned once, and I wasn't a Sag & a Dragon and therefore destined to die by fire anyway, I'd wish that two more times in a mirror and maybe Bloody Mary would come help. Instead, I'll just DRINK a Bloody Mary (well, tomorrow, when I get the garnish!)...and perhaps the more of them I drink, the more stuff I will throw away...until all I'm left with is my furniture and my pets.
Actually, I'm kidding. I'm tired of excessive drinking, thank you State College. I just don't think a Bloody Mary really counts, since it's more of a meal!
So, to recap:
-archiving takes a long ass time (and if I wasn't writing this I could be doing that)
-10 years and 13 apartments later, I own way too much junk
-writers block isn't as bad as too many ideas and not enough direction
-oh, and a new mantra...right Julie? Keep a look out for assholes disguised as nice guys. ;) No no, that's not a good one. I'm kidding, really. I just want to watch out for my karma. I want to be a good person and I want people to be good to me. Is that too much to ask? ;)
I should not be blogging at 1:00 AM. I write things I tend to cringe at my words the next day. Good for laughs, though.
G'night.
I need a good old fashioned fire. If this house hadn't already burned once, and I wasn't a Sag & a Dragon and therefore destined to die by fire anyway, I'd wish that two more times in a mirror and maybe Bloody Mary would come help. Instead, I'll just DRINK a Bloody Mary (well, tomorrow, when I get the garnish!)...and perhaps the more of them I drink, the more stuff I will throw away...until all I'm left with is my furniture and my pets.
Actually, I'm kidding. I'm tired of excessive drinking, thank you State College. I just don't think a Bloody Mary really counts, since it's more of a meal!
So, to recap:
-archiving takes a long ass time (and if I wasn't writing this I could be doing that)
-10 years and 13 apartments later, I own way too much junk
-writers block isn't as bad as too many ideas and not enough direction
-oh, and a new mantra...right Julie? Keep a look out for assholes disguised as nice guys. ;) No no, that's not a good one. I'm kidding, really. I just want to watch out for my karma. I want to be a good person and I want people to be good to me. Is that too much to ask? ;)
I should not be blogging at 1:00 AM. I write things I tend to cringe at my words the next day. Good for laughs, though.
G'night.
4.03.2006
That Damn Lane
Despite the fact that I have a million things going on in my life right now, I've been feeling like I need to commit to some sort of lengthy creative project. I've been having problems focusing on any one thing, maybe because I have too much on my plate...but I feel like I need to pick a direction, and fast. Every day, I'm thinking about moving, or not moving, or getting a second job (well, that's not really optional), or doing more photography, or writing something - but I have a gazillion ideas and none of them feel solid - or something musical, though I don't really have any outlet for that (but if anybody is screwing around with (or more seriously persuing) some band or solo project and wants a chick singer to learn/write lyrics to a couple songs, I'm all yours..yikes). Jesus. You see what I mean?
Ok, the POINT is, I think I picked a project, or at least one that I've been meaning to accomplish and I can work through at any pace: I want to type up all my journals.
Now, I'm not really talking about a trip down memory lane here (and I'll credit Gabe with being right about that - nice place to visit, wouldn't want to live there). I want to do this for a couple reasons:
1.) Even with the utmost determination, this is going to take a long time. I'm talking about a minimum of 11-14 notebooks of writing. Bound, nearly full, with little scraps of paper tucked into every nook and cranny, some dated, some not, letters I never sent....literally hundreds of pages of stuff. It's organized TO ME, but not to anyone else, and even to me the chronology is getting a bit disheveled.
2.) If I don't do this soon, something is going to happen to it all. Ok, sometimes I wonder if that would actually be a good thing. Sometimes, this stuff is a weight...but it's very important to me, and in the end I would be heartbroken if it were destroyed.
3.) I need a good laugh. In between the mountains of seriousness, there are many snippets of absolutely hilarious things...quotes from friends that I wrote in the margins, observations about people, stupid poems I wrote in high school, crushes ("I love him, I wonder if he loves me?" I mean OMG I'm going to cringe at my own words. The earliest date I can find so far on any of this is 10/10/92. A poem. I had horrible high school crush and my juvinile words do not express clearly enough the angst and heartbreak I *thought* I was feeling. Anyone who thinks they hate getting older obviously forgets high school.
4.) As humans, we simply forget. We forget the deepness of our experiences and we repeat ourselves. I'm at a crossroads right now, absolutely. I don't think typing up these journals is going to give me the answer to my future. I do, however, think that the reflection might give me a little insight that I probably need.
Now don't get all excited. I'm not publishing this stuff. I'll probably feel the urge to throw half of it away as I read it, but I'm trying to promise myself I won't. There is some pretty incriminating stuff in there...who was doing what drugs when, who bought our kegs when we were underage, and god knows that I hint at *nearly* every boy I kissed. ;) So...yeah...wish me luck, because this is kind of intimidating me now. Oh well, onward...
...but feel free to let me know if you think I should just burn the stuff. ;)
Ok, the POINT is, I think I picked a project, or at least one that I've been meaning to accomplish and I can work through at any pace: I want to type up all my journals.
Now, I'm not really talking about a trip down memory lane here (and I'll credit Gabe with being right about that - nice place to visit, wouldn't want to live there). I want to do this for a couple reasons:
1.) Even with the utmost determination, this is going to take a long time. I'm talking about a minimum of 11-14 notebooks of writing. Bound, nearly full, with little scraps of paper tucked into every nook and cranny, some dated, some not, letters I never sent....literally hundreds of pages of stuff. It's organized TO ME, but not to anyone else, and even to me the chronology is getting a bit disheveled.
2.) If I don't do this soon, something is going to happen to it all. Ok, sometimes I wonder if that would actually be a good thing. Sometimes, this stuff is a weight...but it's very important to me, and in the end I would be heartbroken if it were destroyed.
3.) I need a good laugh. In between the mountains of seriousness, there are many snippets of absolutely hilarious things...quotes from friends that I wrote in the margins, observations about people, stupid poems I wrote in high school, crushes ("I love him, I wonder if he loves me?" I mean OMG I'm going to cringe at my own words. The earliest date I can find so far on any of this is 10/10/92. A poem. I had horrible high school crush and my juvinile words do not express clearly enough the angst and heartbreak I *thought* I was feeling. Anyone who thinks they hate getting older obviously forgets high school.
4.) As humans, we simply forget. We forget the deepness of our experiences and we repeat ourselves. I'm at a crossroads right now, absolutely. I don't think typing up these journals is going to give me the answer to my future. I do, however, think that the reflection might give me a little insight that I probably need.
Now don't get all excited. I'm not publishing this stuff. I'll probably feel the urge to throw half of it away as I read it, but I'm trying to promise myself I won't. There is some pretty incriminating stuff in there...who was doing what drugs when, who bought our kegs when we were underage, and god knows that I hint at *nearly* every boy I kissed. ;) So...yeah...wish me luck, because this is kind of intimidating me now. Oh well, onward...
...but feel free to let me know if you think I should just burn the stuff. ;)
3.29.2006
Completely Random
Sooner or later I’m going to get hit by a car, or bitten, or cited for trespassing...all because of my gut reaction to random pets scampering about on the sides of highways (or in my yard). In the past two years, I have rescued four stray dogs, three feral cats (all now spayed or placed in homes), attempted to rescue about two or three more dogs which had the speed or agility to evade me, and cared for about five other outdoor cats (and the kittens they propagate) that I just can’t afford to do more than feed. Yesterday, I found myself pulled over on the side of a busy road at 5:15 PM, again, trying to catch or chase away a cat (with a collar on) that was about to walk up onto the highway from the exit ramp. It ran away...in the right direction, at least. The last time I did this, it was a big black dog that really didn’t look too friendly, but he seemed to think the road was the best place to be, and I was at least going to make him think otherwise. I almost stopped in the middle of a business trip with my boss, in a town I didn’t know, just because a big Husky was walking along the side of the highway. I don’t think ahead to what I’ll do once I get these animals in my car. I just hope they’ll be happy for a ride to PAWS, and won’t proceed to bite the back of my head while I’m driving. I’ve been late to things because of this habit. I think I watch too much Animal Cops.
(and now for something completely unrelated...)
I was exhausted by 8 PM yesterday, and was trying to write, but found myself falling asleep instead. So I finished up some notes, and went to bed early. Why does this always lead to wicked dreams? Something about an underground labyrinth of playful passageways, with marble slides and conveniently placed washing machines, and the whole thing was filled with about 5 feet of crystal blue water and well lit, enough that you could swim through it all...like a refreshing sparkling underground pool...and after swimming naked back and forth through this crazy place, the machines were very useful for washing the bathing suit that I hadn’t used. There were other people around, too...random people, and friends, but that was neither significant nor a reason for discomfort. I’ve had these dreams before, but these tunnels of water were always dark and dangerous...and one, for the longest time, I was convinced I’d been to in reality before. I’m sure it doesn’t really exist, but I’m still positive I’ve been there.
I love our subconscious minds.
(and now for something completely unrelated...)
I was exhausted by 8 PM yesterday, and was trying to write, but found myself falling asleep instead. So I finished up some notes, and went to bed early. Why does this always lead to wicked dreams? Something about an underground labyrinth of playful passageways, with marble slides and conveniently placed washing machines, and the whole thing was filled with about 5 feet of crystal blue water and well lit, enough that you could swim through it all...like a refreshing sparkling underground pool...and after swimming naked back and forth through this crazy place, the machines were very useful for washing the bathing suit that I hadn’t used. There were other people around, too...random people, and friends, but that was neither significant nor a reason for discomfort. I’ve had these dreams before, but these tunnels of water were always dark and dangerous...and one, for the longest time, I was convinced I’d been to in reality before. I’m sure it doesn’t really exist, but I’m still positive I’ve been there.
I love our subconscious minds.
3.28.2006
Ton of Feathers, Ton of Bricks
LOL.
I mean, I really hate saying that. Typing it. Whatever. But LOL.
I sure have written a shit-ton of fucking-wah lately, huh? I am all for cathartic honesty, though, even if it is in riddles...so I won't make excuses or apologize. Because it will probably happen again. ;) But in the meantime, there is also this:
You know how "they" say there are different stages of your emotional reaction to life-changing events? You know, like first you're sad, and then you're angry, and then the anger turns to violence and you start running over innocent...no no no I'm only kidding! Well I am happy to say (to myself, at least) that I THINK I'm beginning to move from the sad-selfpitying-doubtful-dispirited stage to...well, whatever is next. It's not anger, anyway. I am rarely an angry person, which can be positive or negative (some situations just call for anger). I just think that the next stage is looking to be a little more encouraging than the last.
That, and it's totally becoming spring now. :) Helps. A lot.
I mean, I really hate saying that. Typing it. Whatever. But LOL.
I sure have written a shit-ton of fucking-wah lately, huh? I am all for cathartic honesty, though, even if it is in riddles...so I won't make excuses or apologize. Because it will probably happen again. ;) But in the meantime, there is also this:
You know how "they" say there are different stages of your emotional reaction to life-changing events? You know, like first you're sad, and then you're angry, and then the anger turns to violence and you start running over innocent...no no no I'm only kidding! Well I am happy to say (to myself, at least) that I THINK I'm beginning to move from the sad-selfpitying-doubtful-dispirited stage to...well, whatever is next. It's not anger, anyway. I am rarely an angry person, which can be positive or negative (some situations just call for anger). I just think that the next stage is looking to be a little more encouraging than the last.
That, and it's totally becoming spring now. :) Helps. A lot.
3.23.2006
Catharsis, and a Carte Blanche Life
When the marks of days take turns towards letting go, these frantic tides of where to lay my head and restlessness, I think the changes (and who’s changing) come in droves...and not to worry through those open doors, and leave yourself settling for less than you deserve, is the key to a choice less hasty and more permanent.
It’s natural that the choices we make lead us to our situations, where some things we’re happy with and some things we’re not. Once you’ve settled on a path, it’s very hard to cross over to the one less taken (or the one more taken, if you choose to be there). So, to be where I am, with a million open doors and very few closed ones...it’s a lucky place to be, and the most intimidating.
On one hand, I want to change everything. I dislike where I live – not so much the house itself, but the town, the region, maybe even the state...I’ve just been here too long, it makes me feel old, and now that I have the freedom to change it, I feel like I should. It may be the last chance I get. I am not fulfilled by the job I am doing, and although I’m happy to sacrifice this time in order to finance some more personal goals, it’s hard to be spending so much of my day dreaming about things that would make me happier. In my closest relationships with people...I feel torn between the familiar and the unknown – between the past, present and future – between those like me, and those who know very little of me at all. I feel very close to a tiny handful of people, and very distant from everyone else.
On the other hand, all this potential is frightening...maddening...overwhelming. This is when the settling takes hold – here I am safe, accustomed, easy. Here I know, at least, that I can go on in the routine. I can stay in my job, in my home; I can nurture the friendships I have, and hope they lead to good places and happy times, and maybe even love, someday. This choice seems purposeful and slow, a guarded life that feels destined to be dull.
I can’t help but be an optimistic person. At least the stress in my life is usually short-lived; I find a way to deal and see the good, at least after a week or two of dwelling on my bad luck. This time is different, though. This time seems...as if everything else rests upon it – and as if that feeling weren’t enough to make the doubt rear it’s ugly head again, every choice carries with it some very heavy sacrifices. I’ve learned in time to deal with the sadness I feel at the ends of things...to learn that the beginnings are there, too. The ends, in this case, mean giving up some things that have given me a lot of happiness. In June, I will have spent ten years here. That’s a huge time commitment to a place I am beginning to resent. That’s one-third of my life...I was 19. Still, the wearing-out-my-welcome seems to be creeping in. People have come and gone, as here they always do – and maybe I’m just beginning to see that I should have left with them. I’m not sad about it, though...and that’s the thought I keep returning to.
I haven’t stopped thinking about all this change for the past month or so. Plans are zygotes, nothing more. I know, however, that these ideas make me happy, hopeful and expectant of better things. I keep coming back to them...in every decision I make, every person I talk to, everything I read or write, every time I look at a map. Nevertheless, as heavy as these thoughts and words are, I feel light.
Impatient, fearful and unsure....but light.
It’s natural that the choices we make lead us to our situations, where some things we’re happy with and some things we’re not. Once you’ve settled on a path, it’s very hard to cross over to the one less taken (or the one more taken, if you choose to be there). So, to be where I am, with a million open doors and very few closed ones...it’s a lucky place to be, and the most intimidating.
On one hand, I want to change everything. I dislike where I live – not so much the house itself, but the town, the region, maybe even the state...I’ve just been here too long, it makes me feel old, and now that I have the freedom to change it, I feel like I should. It may be the last chance I get. I am not fulfilled by the job I am doing, and although I’m happy to sacrifice this time in order to finance some more personal goals, it’s hard to be spending so much of my day dreaming about things that would make me happier. In my closest relationships with people...I feel torn between the familiar and the unknown – between the past, present and future – between those like me, and those who know very little of me at all. I feel very close to a tiny handful of people, and very distant from everyone else.
On the other hand, all this potential is frightening...maddening...overwhelming. This is when the settling takes hold – here I am safe, accustomed, easy. Here I know, at least, that I can go on in the routine. I can stay in my job, in my home; I can nurture the friendships I have, and hope they lead to good places and happy times, and maybe even love, someday. This choice seems purposeful and slow, a guarded life that feels destined to be dull.
I can’t help but be an optimistic person. At least the stress in my life is usually short-lived; I find a way to deal and see the good, at least after a week or two of dwelling on my bad luck. This time is different, though. This time seems...as if everything else rests upon it – and as if that feeling weren’t enough to make the doubt rear it’s ugly head again, every choice carries with it some very heavy sacrifices. I’ve learned in time to deal with the sadness I feel at the ends of things...to learn that the beginnings are there, too. The ends, in this case, mean giving up some things that have given me a lot of happiness. In June, I will have spent ten years here. That’s a huge time commitment to a place I am beginning to resent. That’s one-third of my life...I was 19. Still, the wearing-out-my-welcome seems to be creeping in. People have come and gone, as here they always do – and maybe I’m just beginning to see that I should have left with them. I’m not sad about it, though...and that’s the thought I keep returning to.
I haven’t stopped thinking about all this change for the past month or so. Plans are zygotes, nothing more. I know, however, that these ideas make me happy, hopeful and expectant of better things. I keep coming back to them...in every decision I make, every person I talk to, everything I read or write, every time I look at a map. Nevertheless, as heavy as these thoughts and words are, I feel light.
Impatient, fearful and unsure....but light.
3.12.2006
OUR NAMES GIVE US SOULS
Our power gives us pleasure, and days fall on like dominoes,
A devil’s cup to numb us in our stasis, dry the skin and sink the eyes,
Sweet clouds that swell our passion, calm our thoughts and waste the hours,
Fallen mirrors, so our aging can’t reflect upon the present state of youth.
Fantasy, our time is free and endless, each word a breath behind the next,
A catastrophic shift away from all our fear embodies;
Cracking bones and graying hair, our final hours closer than our first,
This juvenile glimmer in the eye, a spark of necessary ignorance.
The logic of distraction, we are witnesses and players to heavy providence,
A door to faults and indiscretions always open, with seductive gold;
Our naked bodies smooth and glistening, the mind plays tricks with candlelight,
Impure perfection haunts the mind, at war with that which lures us from our goals.
This frequent visitor, our guilt, what one man has another must as well;
We are the names our mothers chose - a boy will do no wrong, a girl the paragon of modesty;
To seize the life we’re given, the grasp of corpses and a will of fire,
Our names beget our liberty, the passage onward rife with siren songs and truth.
A devil’s cup to numb us in our stasis, dry the skin and sink the eyes,
Sweet clouds that swell our passion, calm our thoughts and waste the hours,
Fallen mirrors, so our aging can’t reflect upon the present state of youth.
Fantasy, our time is free and endless, each word a breath behind the next,
A catastrophic shift away from all our fear embodies;
Cracking bones and graying hair, our final hours closer than our first,
This juvenile glimmer in the eye, a spark of necessary ignorance.
The logic of distraction, we are witnesses and players to heavy providence,
A door to faults and indiscretions always open, with seductive gold;
Our naked bodies smooth and glistening, the mind plays tricks with candlelight,
Impure perfection haunts the mind, at war with that which lures us from our goals.
This frequent visitor, our guilt, what one man has another must as well;
We are the names our mothers chose - a boy will do no wrong, a girl the paragon of modesty;
To seize the life we’re given, the grasp of corpses and a will of fire,
Our names beget our liberty, the passage onward rife with siren songs and truth.
3.11.2006
sometimes, i want to be an angry person,
but i just can’t seem to pull it off
straight faced, i’m laughing at you -
how funny all your outrage seems to me.
don’t hold back your tirade, it’s the most you know;
the insignificance is blissful.
my tears are not your conquest,
just my remorse for wasting time on you.
but i just can’t seem to pull it off
straight faced, i’m laughing at you -
how funny all your outrage seems to me.
don’t hold back your tirade, it’s the most you know;
the insignificance is blissful.
my tears are not your conquest,
just my remorse for wasting time on you.
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