Friday, September 23, 2011

this isn't really the blog where I pour out rainbows, so...

I am annoyed with myself today. Me and my goddamn self-absorbed blog, like anyone gives a shit about my stupid love life or inner turmoil. I mean, to be fair, I started the blog for *me* because I like having a record of where I've been emotionally, but I look back and it's fucking embarrassing sometimes. It's so obvious that I am lost and confused and struggling. That's human, yes, but also annoying. I mean, get yourself TOGETHER girl, right? Just fucking be normal, right?

This has been a shitty week. But then again, this isn't really the blog where I pour out rainbows, so despite my annoyance with my petty life, I'll continue.

The past two days, my ex (the 17-year relationship one) and I have been writing, for the first time in about a year and a half. I mean, we'd been in curt business-like contact about the house sale, tax stuff and pending divorce this whole time but haven't talked about the breakup. Until now.

Don't do this.

Wait, we're "writing"? More like frothing. It's like one big giant purple Barney song gone terribly wrong. "He hates meeee, I hate himmmm, la la la la la..." Or Spongebob kung fu fighting.

He's still angry, I'm still defensive and the pain is still so great. Could we ever heal enough to have a productive exchange? Actually it feels like we're making some headway but there's so much wrong that I don't know how much could be accomplished.

He used to be my best friend. I mean, I could understand his entire state of being with a single grunt. I haven't seen him in 1.5 years but I have seen pictures on his blog. Even worse then seeing his new beau is being struck by the deep sadness in his eyes. He smiles there but I can see a core of pain in those eyes and it about breaks me.

The timing is awesome too. I've been sick this week with a terrible sore throat that has prevented me from consuming more then 12 calories a day as the only method I've got for food intake is swallowing (no tube yet) and I just haven't perfected my serrated knife slugging skills. Tack on a crying fit and yeah, I feel GREAT.

But here, I'll try a stupid exercise. They say to list the things you're grateful for? Okay:

  • Friends who get me and lend support. <3<3<3
  • That a small line of communication was opened here, maybe it will be healing in some small way.
  • Maybe I'll lose weight because I can't eat!

Monday, September 19, 2011

My general life philosophy: don't be a dick.

So, I don't talk much about work here. But I have a little rant brewing inside.

I pretty much love my job. I've enjoyed almost every job I ever had; I'm good with that whole "be content with what you've got and if not, move on" thing in life, and have been extremely fortunate to land great bosses, be surrounded by good people and gain interesting experiences. I'll say that even about the waitressing jobs I had when I worked my way through college. Working is easy.

I am proud to say I have never willingly participated in office politics but that doesn't mean I don't see when it goes on. It's inherent for groups to assemble themselves into hierarchical structures. It happens in flocks and herds and packs and societies, and the obviousness of it all is not lost to the nature documentary constantly playing in my head. So I notice dynamics and choose to celebrate mostly their positive aspects.

My general life philosophy is don't be a dick. It seems to work.

I am totally doing this the next time someone
parks like a dick during a snow storm.

I can be a bit of an outcast sometimes. Fashion bores me, I hate sports, bad attitudes annoy me and my head is usually wrapped around larger issues then the small world I occupy during business hours. I'm thinking about the things everyone wraps up tightly at work: the coworker whose family member suffers from a worrisome illness, my mom undergoing a nuclear stress test, the possibility of bugs entering the mainstream food supply as an actual food source, how the the moon's striking beauty continually grabs me, the usefulness of animal noises as a human communication medium, how happy my ex looks with his new life and how shitty that makes me feel, why can I never remember trash day, and myriad other goings on around the planet. Articles about people struggling don't leave my mind just because I click away. I pay homage to their experience by dedicating some time to them in my thoughts. It feels important.

Sometimes this can make me a shitty lunch conversationalist. I want to talk about things that matter and everyone else wants to talk about the one person at work they can't stand or some character on a reality show I've never even seen (my LIFE is a reality show, who has time for anything but living?).

Luckily my friends are fellow nerds also dissatisfied with superficialities and so it's rare that this is an issue. But sometimes all this observation makes me feel removed from the human performances compelled by our biology.

People in a  group tightly wear a cloak of professionalism. And the nature documentary in my head narrates: superficiality is armor; animals that reveal their vulnerabilities are the first ones to be picked off. No one will admit they struggle. And so this isolates us in tight boxes of human flesh, released by keys of alcohol or passion.
Pretty sad when THIS is the escape.

In one way, this veneer of professionalism is an escape. No one could live steeped in darkness for an extended time and so it's good to move from the heart to the head to live and work and metabolize and function. But in another way it's a prison. We measure ourselves against each other. The most successful may just be better at cloaking their troubles but we can't tell that. And so the end result is that maybe we all feel isolated.

I fast forward to the series of interviews where some journalist asked people on their death bed what they really regretted. They said feeling alone. The deep connections in life are what matter.

See them connecting? It looks so deep.

So I think of this when people discuss superficialities and I wonder: why do people avoid so many opportunities to deeply connect?


ps. despite the nature documentary in my head and the seriousness of so many posts, I do often carry a light heart and laugh much. It's just that my heart is not shallow.

Sunday, September 18, 2011

It's a break up because you break the part of you that was created in the relationship.

I wrote to a friend recently detailing how I felt hesitant to jump back into a relationship. I just don't feel ready, I said, but I wasn't sure how to communicate this or even why. His reply was instantaneously soothing:
You need to explain some shit to mother fuckers right now, and I hate to go back to this well, but the metaphor is apt: when you break a bone or have major surgery, you must be allowed time to heal. That's why an end to a relationship is called "BREAKING up," because you are breaking the part of yourself that was created in that relationship. You have to you heal that self next. When someone sees someone fresh out of a cast or with stitches from heart surgery, their first response generally isn't "Let's run a goddamned marathon." People need to understand that they are asking you to run a marathon when they insist on committed relationship. You have healing to do. When a bone is broken, you have to rehabilitate it. The muscles are weakened and atrophied, and have to be taught to bear weight again. I'm not saying tell people "I'll never run again," I'm saying tell them you're not even out of the cast yet.
Most of my crushes understand this, some maybe are even in a similar place themselves, which is wonderful. Someday I'll run again. When it feels right.

Thursday, September 8, 2011

I love my job but...

Yesterday at work:

Annoying Coworker (AC): I need those files.

me: what files?

AC: those blog files.

me: what blog files?

AC: the files I said I needed.

me: I'm not sure what you're talking about.

AC: the ones I emailed person A & person B about.

me: ummm, check with person A or person B?

AC: what's their progress on those files?

me: I have no idea, check with them.

AC: do you know if they did them?

me: Um, I really don't know, ask them.

AC: I need them.

me: Yeaaaah, um, they're both sitting at their desk now if you want to ask them.

AC: okaaaay. ::annoyed huff::

 I gotta save this for my screenplay. Seriously!