Frame of mind

When my cousin read my coffee grinds... see previous post... One of the things she said about me right now is that I was burned badly in a previous relationship (right on) and that I had separated that relationship part of me out and have left it to the side.

This couldn't be more right.

I want nothing to do with any relationship right now of any kind... I tease at the thought of it for this person or that... but ultimately... It. Ain't. Happening.

Yes, a lot of it is probably due to that burn. I haven't really set about processing it (frankly I can't quite comprehend it even still) and not processing/comprehending that situation... well... it sure as shit doesn't let me get over it.

More than that though, I just don't want to deal/hear with the minutiae of the other person in a relationship.

I don't want to know how your day was, I don't want to know where you are, where you're going, what you've done, that you're going to fold your laundry, or any other daily shit-task that you're doing. I don't want to make small talk. I don't want a routine to say goodbye at night. I don't want to hear how you're feeling unless I ask...

I have neither the energy or will to care.

Maybe that's cold... but I don't really care about that either.

In regards to relationships that's where my mind is at right now. And if you want to screw... well... you can give it a shot, but 9 times out of 10 it's gonna end up being a no anyway. That's just not typically me. Not for any cockamamie religious belief... those are the furthest things from my mind right now... but simply because the reward isn't worth the risk in my head. It's that simple.

I think I like this spaced out, more stream of conscious type formatting for the blog. I've read other people who use it, and found it annoying at first... however... I've written more in the past week like this then I have in the past few months. And quite frankly, writing something is better than writing nothing for me right now.

Hope it doesn't bother the 3 of you who read this all that much :-p

Comfortable vs. Familiar

Comfortable:
Expecting the other person to be there.
Dropping a deuce while the other person is in the shower.
Pissing while the other person gets ready at the sink in the morning.
Passing gas while watching a movie in the living room
Belching out loud at the dinner table or just randomly
All the little fucking things that your parents always (or should have) told you were "impolite"
And still, expecting the other person to be there, or worse, care as little as you do
(Exceptions are made for couples who previously establish they don't care about those things, ie. not me.)

Familiar:
Noticing yourself smiling when you pull in the driveway because the other person is home first
Taking note of bathroom schedules well enough so that you're both in there for showers only
Waking up 20 minutes early to get ready early so the other doesn't have to work around you
Politely stifling a belch when the other person isn't looking
Waiting for the other person to leave or leaving the room to pass gas quitely
Helping with the dishes cause you know it's not their favorite thing to do
Noticing yourself smiling when going to bed cause you're with them and they're with you.

Maybe I'm just an idealistic, hopeless, romantic...
So what.

Maybe my ideas will change with age...
Maybe.

But settling for just being comfortable...
Not a chance.

25.

No, not the Facebook meme.

That's the age I turn today at 2:08pm. I'm not sure I have any specific feelings on the age. I can now rent a car with no extra fees or questions, which I suppose is the last real milestone. From here on out it's counting every age that ends on a '0'. In brief retrospect it feels like the last 25 years were all entirely foundational making me the person I've become today. I'm not sure the process is quite complete yet, but I fully expect that sometime in the next few years I'll be able to live as me rather than continually looking to define a 'me' to live as.

I raise my proverbial glass... to making it this far. Here's to hoping that, at a minimum, I'm only a quarter done.

Zeke

Headaches, weddings, and then some...

Today, was the first day in nearly a week and a half where I haven't had a splitting migraine like headache just about exactly 4 hours after I woke up. It's nice, really nice to be pain free like that, but at the same time after having it been so consistent there's still a little fear in the back of my head that this is only a tease. I'm not sure quite when that irrational fear crept up on me, but if I'm sick for more than a week I don't really enjoy the places that my thoughts go to. Intense feelings of inevitability; that I'm never going to get better and I'm only going to get worse. Unrealistic and ridiculous, I know, but that doesn't prevent them from coming. Maybe it was from watching my uncle degrade in the months leading up to his death, maybe just the amount of times I've been sick, or just one too many episodes of House.

In other news, I finally e-mailed myself home a bunch quotes and sayings that I had collected while I was at work that I wanted to add to my Commonplace Book. So far it consists mostly quotes and the definition of what it is taped on the inside cover lest I ever forget. If I had a color printer I feel like it might fill up faster, but then again, not having one just means maybe I can coerce myself into drawing or constructing something artistic rather than easy.

I went to a wedding on Saturday for a friend of mine who I knew from high school. We were definitely friends then and had managed, more or less, to keep in semi consistent contact throughout the college years but I'll admit, I was kinda surprised when I got the invite. Anyway, it was a beautiful, hi tech, 'contemporary christian' wedding as it gets. (Interestingly enough, he found the exact same evangelical christian group on his college campus that I found on mine, which could have been enough of a connection...) Except for the headache I still had at that point, exacerbated by the flashing lights and loud dance music, that is. I found out that I had a hidden boccie ball talent I never knew about. He also had up a video camera where guests could step out of the reception and leave a message, personal, crazy, or a mildly inebriated mix of both. We did a group crazy one from high school, but I did go back and leave him a personal, dare I say even religiously inspirational, message to him and his new bride. It was probably one of the first times in the past year I've referred to anything remotely christian/religious.

My uncle came up in conversation again tonight. It's strange how from June-Sept his memory always seems to resurface just a little more than it would have any other time of the year. It's like there's still an indent in the fabric of life where he's missing from. Anyway, his first name was one of the pen-names I used in college when I was writing poetry I didn't want to have to explain to the fellowship. I sent the link to said poem to Dzia, whom I've had the greatest resurgence of a relationship with since we talked early last month, and she asked me to explain the name that I used. So I did, and I of course thought of my uncle, and then something hit me that I never quite thought of before. I was thinking about how much else I wish he could teach me, guitar, music, painting, drawing... when I realized he taught me something infinitely more valuable. Infinitely more personal. In that last day I spent with him, he taught me how to die.

As morbid as that may sound it gives me as much greater level of peace and contentment in the ongoing process of dealing with him being gone. Up until now, I think I felt a more significant touch of jealousy toward my cousins than I was aware of. They had learned music and art from him while I just got to see him on holidays and think on memories of watching in awe rather than being taught to participate with. (There was one time, only one, that I can ever remember participating musically with him to such a point where he looked at me and smiled, and took notice. Him, my cousins, and I broke out in Rufus Wainwright's Hallelujah for a reason now lost to time) That day I spent with him, watching the Yankees, talking about life and relationships, eating a whole pint of Strawberry Hagen Daaz.... all in the face of an inevitable amount of just days left... Maybe what I learned that day can't be accurately passed on in words, but to be able to breath just a little bit easier when the memory of him stirs this time next year will make all the difference.

I've watched too many "made for TV" movies...

When I was in high school, it was called "being a romantic."
In college, it became "hopeless romantic."
Now.... I think "delusionaly romantic" is appropriate.
I don't know why it is, but every time I go to meet someone new of the female gender, a little part of me starts whispering in the back of my head, "Maybe this one. Maybe this time you'll walk around a corner, see her, she'll look at you, and there will be this magic connection with imaginary bells chiming and you'll just know she's the one and you can stop looking."

I've probably hear that voice 40 or 50 legitimate times(or at least times that voice thought was legit) in the past few years. So often, that it's probably one of the single biggest reasons that I'm still single at the moment. It comes on so often in fact, that it makes me hesitate about starting something with someone who I don't have that spark with. Who might instead, just be a nice, attractive, willing, loyal person who's interested in me. That's not enough. Maybe it should be, and I'm missing out on what could grow into something better than I imagine that spark of a moment to be. But right now I can't do that, it'd be unfair to whomever I was dating at the time. As much as I'd be with them, my mind, my heart wouldn't be completely in it, because around that next corner I'd always be looking for that one person. It's the irony of of all ironies, but I can't stand movies with that plot line.

I hate them so much apparently that I've become one. Shaving, dressing up, trying to look good because I'm going to be meeting a newly hired co-worker tomorrow whom I've never met before. And for whatever reason this week, that voice decided to start talking about her, and "how perfect it would be and how her being it would fit". That I'll walk down to her cubicle and turn the corner and that spark will be waiting there for me in her eyes. Do I sound as pathetic as I feel?

This shares a similarity I think to the reason I can't watch Smallville on TV. Instead of enjoying an episode, I find myself almost depressed after watching one... the more I watch the more depressed I get. Feelings of inadequacy overwhelm me, while even though I know it's just a made up TV show, I still feel like I'm insignificant and doing nothing in comparison to them. I feel guilty that I'm not Superman, or making a difference as an 'ordinary' person like Chloe.

I use what of it I can to my advantage. Using that drive to find ways to do things more efficiently and quickly than others would expect, which has, upon occasion led to praise from bosses and supervisors. I'm sure it's why I have trouble just doing something, and always have to do it well or work at it until I can. It's disconcerting and agitating to me when I feel average, or below at something. I don't have to be the best at everything, I know that's unrealistic, but I'd better be at least in the upper tier of ability (or have a good reason why I'm not, eg. gymnastics - I'm not a flexible 12 year old female) or it's gonna get to me.

So I go to sleep every night, and wake up ever morning, hoping to run into that spark that some part of me is convinced exists somewhere. I don't want to exist on the "maybe you're the one maybe you're not the one" plane of existence I see most everywhere I look. I don't want to wait on their every word or be let down by errant words they might or might not have meant anyway. A equal spark. Like two single lane roads merging seamlessly into one two lane road. Each road still exists unhindered but joined. I don't want to look in the mirror and see my happiness dependent on that person being in my mirror. I want to look at myself in the mirror and see happiness, and then look in the mirror next to mine and see happiness.
I don't want 1+1=2
I want 1+1=11

Quicksand

14 hour days. That's what I'm running right now. Up at 5:30am, out at 6, on trains from 6:30 to 8:45, working till 4:30, on trains from 4:56 through 6:40pm if I'm lucky(7:40 if I'm not). I'm not looking for a pity party... I'm the idiot who decided to live in Philadelphia and work 20 min from NYC. However what this is, is an excuse. That until I adjust, the phrase "spotty at best" pretty much describes me. Words are a struggle, taking me 3 days to draft and write an e-mail to a friend(hope I didn't ramble too much). Work is slow, and luckily I won't have anything too intense for a while; planning for a program months away and unjamming a copier 23 times in one day isn't too mentally intensive. Basketball tonight was like a slow motion dance where my mind couldn't make my body catch up to the events happening around me.

I'd like to adjust soon, if that's alright with life, that is...

Adventures in time travel...

Dear Zeke,
Hi. This is your future self, about 10 years from now. I just wanted to write to you and tell you that there's no need to worry. In the future, you've got all the answers to all the questions you're asking yourself, you're fit and in the shape you want to be, and are comfortable with where you are in life. You're married to a great girl, having a grand old time watching your daughter grow up (who's now entering kindergarten by the way), and just started finishing the basement of the house you bought a few years back. All your close friends from high school are well within driving distance and you still get together regularly with them.

Sound too good to be true? Ding ding ding... Zeke, tell yourself what you've won!! Well, for one, reassurance that your sarcastic wit is as sharp as ever, that's for sure. Alright, sorry... I had to pull that prank on you because you know that's exactly what you wanted to hear, and you'd never actually believe it if it were told to you. Sure, some of it's accurate, but I'll leave that up to you to figure out which part.

Anyway, on to the point of this letter, since it really wasn't that easy to send back in time to you. I think Wil WheatonQ sums it up best when he said, "Your 20s are about gathering information and experience, and your 30s are about putting it to use." I know it's hard, and confusing, and most days you don't really know what you want or where you're going, but just keep on pushing through it. As ‘glass half full’ as this sounds, it really will pay off for you later, in that “it’s about the journey not the destination” kind of way.

You're going to spend countless hours driving aimlessly trying to make sense of things you can't even put a name to. You'll find scores of introspective songs to pass the miles to while you're trying to let your mind straighten itself out. Even if it doesn't seem like it's really helping then, it does. Don't underestimate the benefit of walking away and taking that personal time, it'll be the greatest help to your sanity besides maybe DS. Yes, you're still close friends with her, and the stuff you've been through together makes these current issues you're in the middle of look like the minor annoyance having to stop for gas when you’re already late to work.

I know that right now, you don’t have a clue about what type of girl you’re looking for and that it’s really bothering you. The confusion of not knowing what the hell you want and overanalyzing why you do or don’t want a particular quality is rather frustrating. Trust me, I know… I’ve been there. Unfortunately though, I don’t have a silver bullet for you on this. It’s not enough to tell you all the qualities of the woman I married, or rather, you will marry, because you’d just look at the list I give you and start overanalyzing it. But, I guess that’s about the only advice I can give you. Make a list. List what you like in your female friends, list what attracts you physically or mentally to someone, write about it; the process of working through it will be infinitely more valuable to you than just getting handed the answer, and infinitely quicker than betting on random chance that you’ll just happen to find her. Just know that you will find her. Maybe not in the way you expected, or where you expected, but she’s out there.

For a long while, longer than you’re comfortable with, your budget is going to be tight. That’s what happens when 20-somethings are starting out, and you’re not immune to that either. As tight as it may be though, keep finding ways to travel and make those random trips. Go to Chicago, Portland, and Los Angeles. Make those random, “Are you insane?” trips out to visit people you’ve never met in person before, or to see old friends for their birthday. Those will be memories and experiences that will go a long way in shaping who you become. You will meet some amazing people that you never expected to change your life, and others who you expected to, but ultimately left you unfulfilled. It’s alright, at the very least they’ll all make great characters in your future books.

So this is my, “Your 20’s really aren’t so bad… seriously” pep talk, because I know that’s exactly what you’ve been needing to hear right now. The reassurance that you will figure it all out, you will overcome these obstacles and you won’t completely f*** up your life. In a way, that’s probably all that anyone really wants. To be reassured that the path they’re on is the right one, or at least, just not the wrong one. You’ll figure out some of your problems, you’ll realize some aren’t as important as you thought, you’ll find new problems to over think and obsess over, but in the end you’ll still get up each morning and go to sleep each night.

Now go heed my advice, be reassured about life, and don’t make me have to write another one of these. It wasn’t easy or cheap re-wiring my quantum computer to send this back in time.



Me

No, I'm not doing a reflective post on the recently passed year...

I want a car. I want to take a nice, long, leisurely drive over to Lake Erie or somewhere really far away just to get back out on the open road. I definitely wouldn't say it's anything other than just wanting to drive again, but I'm keeping an eye on it. That's kinda how it started last time... maybe I should take some D.

In other news, I think the reason I don't know who/what type of girl I want, is because I'm not quite yet set in who I am. Like I'm not set physically who I am, mentally, certainly spiritually, perhaps some emotionally, etc... I'm still wandering this world trying to figure it all out. I spent 6 years with someone else there, and now looking back I don't know if that helped or hindered me getting to where I am right now. Either way, I'm not positive it helped, and I sure don't feel like having anything hinder me, so there.

Rose and I went to go see I Am Legend tonight. Will Smith is the freaking man. He climbed to the top of the world and is now just sitting on it, enjoying the view. The movie really is only starring him... and some special effects. It's bleak, it's dark, it's plausible, it's a picture of who I'd hope to be in that situation, but then again, there goes my hero worship. Oh... still haven't had a full post about that... well, maybe coming up soon. Anyway, now it's time to read the book.

I sent Tiny Dancer a letter the other day. Took the time while waiting for people to proofread my work at the Agency to design my own return address label. I like it a lot actually, more than I thought I would. It's a picture of me sitting on the edge of a cliff, with the sky and a deadly drop that I'm way to close to in the background. Just the way I like it. If you ask nicely I'll even send you a letter with that label on it. I'm kinda interested to see what she thought of the contents. I wrote it at work, and included a poem that I had published back in college. I'm sure she liked just getting the mail, but I'm also interested in her response to the content. I haven't talked to her in like 3-4 days.. probably the longest since we've started talking.

Tomorrow is dinner with Distracted Spunk and about 40 other people. Well, not 40, but a lot. Meeting up in the city and then going from there. I'm looking forward to it. It'll probably be one of if not the last time I see her before she goes and flies back to the wrong coast. Not cool. But of the 10 states I'll be visiting this year, her's is one of them so it's alright, sorta. I laughed out loud the other day, when she asked me to make sure she doesn't stay in the state she's in. I told her I'd promise to kidnap her if she ever decided to settle permanently. I'd probably do it too if she ever did really move out there. There are some friends who can move away and stay, but she's not one of them and neither is Actress which is why I'm so freaking excited that she and I and BigE might be all roommates in a sweet 3-bedroom setup next August. That would set me for the next 5+ years and move me much more permanently to Philly than I am right now, and I think I'd really like that. It really surprises me more and more each day just how much I miss not living in that city and being stuck at home till I get a car again. And now that this post has come full circle.... Bed.