Today has been one uneventful day. I'm sitting in a coffee shop chatting with some 23 year old kid. Too young. He won't take the hint.
Musing on life in the 80's with the passing of Corey Haim; a gaggle of tweens just walked passed the window looking like Stand By Me the Next Generation.
I'm rather expectantly waiting for an email from someone my own age with some similar interests. Who knows where any of this ever goes. I expect that all of these social experiments are teaching me that I really am still that shy little kid that would rather go unnoticed than Shelly Winters in "Alfie". And can I say with no offense to Ms. Winters.... Thank God!!!!! There may be nothing wrong with being shy and not having a bevy of men to chose to spend a night or day with. For the life of me I can't understand why I ever thought there was.
It isn't like any of these attempts at finding release have yielded anything other than the heart-wrenching or occasionally laugh out loud anecdote. All in all, I have to say that at this point, I can give up any idea I ever had of being some foot-loose and fancy free modern woman. It is, apparently, not within the parameters of my internal software to bed anyone at will. I do require some kind of a relationship in order to perform in that capacity. Surely i did not need to undertake this social experiment to find that out. After all, all of my guy friends have been telling me this for the better part of my life. And nothing has been as fulfilling or come anywhere close to completion like it has in my one past relationship of substantial length or satisfaction.
While it has been nice to practice social skills involved in a first contact situation and I have developed some casual friendships which do not revolve around the topic of sex, I have still managed to fumble when there has been potential for something more than superficiality with or without the topic of sex. In fact....
I have to stop now. In my head I am sounding more and more like Sheldon Cooper with every word, which is leading to the Leonard Hofstader Grimace of Acquiescence.
Thursday, March 11, 2010
Tuesday, March 9, 2010
Pet clark might have been right
I haven't been downtown in ages. Today I was supposed to meet someone for coffee at Horizon books. So I packed my shoulder bag, donned my spiffy hippy/witchy purple blouse with the bat wing sleeves and scoured Front Street for a parking place. After complaining that the weird people hang out in Horizon, I feel a bit stupid for arranging the coffee date at that locale. If hypocrisy were dragons I'd be ducking for cover and trying not to smell like meat. But I knew that Neil Gaiman's collaboration with Terry Pratchett was there and I enjoyed reading it waiting for a comedy show. So, new book in hand, I ordered a coffee and waited.
The people watching was kind of lame. But I have definitely decided that all of the character in Traverse City is downtown. Buildings to people, it's there. So my hippy/witchy self was not really noticed. I waited almost an hour, knowing that since he was driving up from downstate that there could have been traffic delays. Turns out he double booked his day. I hung up, finished my coffee and dropped by Higher Self for a visit. All in all, it was not the most unusual trip, nor, in the absence of an art store, was it the most satisfying. What it was though, was revealing.
There wasn't much noise and hurry or traffic moving in the city, still too chilly to linger on the street and there aren't many neon signs. Somehow I always think that it is the distraction that she recommends as a balm to the cares and the worries. As I was scooting past the shadow of a massive construction project that felt too eerily like things I've dreamt in the past coming to fruition, I realized that the short inexpensive trip had in fact helped me. I'm still thinking of the Valentines Day Massacre of 2010, still worried about where I will live and frustrated that I am coming up empty. And now a bit concerned that my visions are far more than can be dismissed as a dream though still considerably less than prophecy, the trip helped. For one thing, I walked. Out in the fresh air, the sunshine and getting my blood going in a healthy way definitely made some progress in releasing the mental blocks. For another thing, I found a set of tools that seems to be more in tuned with the way that I work spiritually.
Rikki got a new deck of intuitive cards. They aren't really for seeing the future and predicting outcomes. But they are for opening your eyes to what is in front of you that you refuse to see. How I know if the card creator and the Universe are in sync or if there is any huckstering going on is to flip through cards and look at what stands out. I pull them from the deck and set them aside. I only go through once. They are highly artistic and are not labeled with predetermined definitions so your Conscious Mind can't interfere. Then when that is done, I look over the "hand" I've dealt myself.* Then I look up the definitions. Every single card I dealt/drew kept in tune with the situation I have found myself in recently. Nothing was out of alignment or felt wrong.
Of course the first card I saw didn't make me happy. It drew a sharp reaction from me as I saw, in the kaleidoscopic vision, a menacing Vorlon. Turns out that card represents Relationships. As mine haven't felt very good recently a menacing Vorlon seemed easier to tackle in a card than in the workplace. The gist of the message in the book is that what you get is what you reflect. So somehow I menaced myself. Does that sound fair? Does that sound logical? Maybe not. But if you think of all the ways that we relive our traumas with the characters and the name of the play having been changed then it makes sense. I guess I still haven't learned some things and I keep attracting people to teach me. It's the first step of self sabotage. D'oh!
So, it was an inexpensive and necessary trip downtown. And mostly because of the last verse in Pet's song. Downtown you are surrounded by people. Maybe you'll find someone to help and understand you... but you could also find someone to whom you can be of help. The point of the song was not retail therapy as I used to think. It is to remind you that you aren't alone. Downtowns are the heart of a community as much as the churches and temples, grocers and banks... more so. Downtowns are mini melting pots. One day you are helped and the next day you help. The weird people are downtown, its true. But they are the real people, displaying their hearts and hurts. They aren't hiding behind facades that our parents and teachers tell us is polite. They are just as afraid of being real as any of us but have realized that real is what counts.
S, you told me so. No that doesn't mean I will move to Chicago. What it does mean is that I see that while I thought I was doing all I could do to belong to my surroundings, I still have not embraced where I live. And I haven't fully embraced those I truly love. I don't know how. Years of mistrust and protecting myself from the things I could see and fearing what I could not have built a wall thicker than any fortress I've ever built to enshrine a broken heart. If I cannot embrace my hometown, I can not embrace any other place. And if I can not embrace those I know, there is little hope of embracing He Whom I Have Yet to Meet. But I try.
*The deck, for anyone who is interested is by Lee Simmons. It is the Secret World of Crystals Journey deck.
The people watching was kind of lame. But I have definitely decided that all of the character in Traverse City is downtown. Buildings to people, it's there. So my hippy/witchy self was not really noticed. I waited almost an hour, knowing that since he was driving up from downstate that there could have been traffic delays. Turns out he double booked his day. I hung up, finished my coffee and dropped by Higher Self for a visit. All in all, it was not the most unusual trip, nor, in the absence of an art store, was it the most satisfying. What it was though, was revealing.
There wasn't much noise and hurry or traffic moving in the city, still too chilly to linger on the street and there aren't many neon signs. Somehow I always think that it is the distraction that she recommends as a balm to the cares and the worries. As I was scooting past the shadow of a massive construction project that felt too eerily like things I've dreamt in the past coming to fruition, I realized that the short inexpensive trip had in fact helped me. I'm still thinking of the Valentines Day Massacre of 2010, still worried about where I will live and frustrated that I am coming up empty. And now a bit concerned that my visions are far more than can be dismissed as a dream though still considerably less than prophecy, the trip helped. For one thing, I walked. Out in the fresh air, the sunshine and getting my blood going in a healthy way definitely made some progress in releasing the mental blocks. For another thing, I found a set of tools that seems to be more in tuned with the way that I work spiritually.
Rikki got a new deck of intuitive cards. They aren't really for seeing the future and predicting outcomes. But they are for opening your eyes to what is in front of you that you refuse to see. How I know if the card creator and the Universe are in sync or if there is any huckstering going on is to flip through cards and look at what stands out. I pull them from the deck and set them aside. I only go through once. They are highly artistic and are not labeled with predetermined definitions so your Conscious Mind can't interfere. Then when that is done, I look over the "hand" I've dealt myself.* Then I look up the definitions. Every single card I dealt/drew kept in tune with the situation I have found myself in recently. Nothing was out of alignment or felt wrong.
Of course the first card I saw didn't make me happy. It drew a sharp reaction from me as I saw, in the kaleidoscopic vision, a menacing Vorlon. Turns out that card represents Relationships. As mine haven't felt very good recently a menacing Vorlon seemed easier to tackle in a card than in the workplace. The gist of the message in the book is that what you get is what you reflect. So somehow I menaced myself. Does that sound fair? Does that sound logical? Maybe not. But if you think of all the ways that we relive our traumas with the characters and the name of the play having been changed then it makes sense. I guess I still haven't learned some things and I keep attracting people to teach me. It's the first step of self sabotage. D'oh!
So, it was an inexpensive and necessary trip downtown. And mostly because of the last verse in Pet's song. Downtown you are surrounded by people. Maybe you'll find someone to help and understand you... but you could also find someone to whom you can be of help. The point of the song was not retail therapy as I used to think. It is to remind you that you aren't alone. Downtowns are the heart of a community as much as the churches and temples, grocers and banks... more so. Downtowns are mini melting pots. One day you are helped and the next day you help. The weird people are downtown, its true. But they are the real people, displaying their hearts and hurts. They aren't hiding behind facades that our parents and teachers tell us is polite. They are just as afraid of being real as any of us but have realized that real is what counts.
S, you told me so. No that doesn't mean I will move to Chicago. What it does mean is that I see that while I thought I was doing all I could do to belong to my surroundings, I still have not embraced where I live. And I haven't fully embraced those I truly love. I don't know how. Years of mistrust and protecting myself from the things I could see and fearing what I could not have built a wall thicker than any fortress I've ever built to enshrine a broken heart. If I cannot embrace my hometown, I can not embrace any other place. And if I can not embrace those I know, there is little hope of embracing He Whom I Have Yet to Meet. But I try.
*The deck, for anyone who is interested is by Lee Simmons. It is the Secret World of Crystals Journey deck.
Monday, March 8, 2010
Starting Over
One of the steps in the healing process is to put paint to canvas. At least that is my healing process. So here is the first layers of the urn's construction. The sketch under it is my thoughts behind how I've constructed main image around the grief in my heart.Not sure how many layers til the finished product. Like I said before, I got the bottom layer down and I can see parts of the last layer in my head. But I can't see yet how to get from A to Whatever.
Harsh much
Yeah, the laundry post was a bit rough. But that is the way it happened. Of course I see where the judgementality came in. He might be legit. He might be a god send. But what came at me was not the sincerity of interest that solidified him as a real contact. I've never felt more like a fly in a hurricane. Doesn't excuse the harsh critique. Nothing really does.
I'm either more Rodney MacKay than I ever thought possible (which is highly likely given the geek proclivity to portray mild Aspbergers without actually being diagnosed as such) or I've just decided to sabotage everything by being a dick. Yeah, I said it. I am in a noncompliance state with the Wheaton. Of course, it could be a temporary case of mirror-Universe/Bizzarro me running amok in this Universe. But I think that I have had just about enough of the insincerity in the world that I don't care what I say or do so long as it is as honest as I can be. Even if that means painfully. Of course the only person I'll ever hurt, inthe end, is me.
That's kinda the point Wil makes. The only person you hurt when you hurt someone else is you. Yeah, the laundromat story is as funny as the one my sister tells about waking up in the LA airport with a homeless guy cuddled on her shoulder (a cautionary tale of sleep deprivation). But it isn't told in the most gracious way. Well now I just made myslef feel totally bad about the post. But, true to my journalistic integrity i leave it as it is.
I doubt the guy will look me up online. He told me that because of his bi-polarity (is that a real word) he might not even remember me if he doesn't lose my contact information. But I look like an ass to the people who know me and read my blog on a regular basis. Well crap.
I'm either more Rodney MacKay than I ever thought possible (which is highly likely given the geek proclivity to portray mild Aspbergers without actually being diagnosed as such) or I've just decided to sabotage everything by being a dick. Yeah, I said it. I am in a noncompliance state with the Wheaton. Of course, it could be a temporary case of mirror-Universe/Bizzarro me running amok in this Universe. But I think that I have had just about enough of the insincerity in the world that I don't care what I say or do so long as it is as honest as I can be. Even if that means painfully. Of course the only person I'll ever hurt, inthe end, is me.
That's kinda the point Wil makes. The only person you hurt when you hurt someone else is you. Yeah, the laundromat story is as funny as the one my sister tells about waking up in the LA airport with a homeless guy cuddled on her shoulder (a cautionary tale of sleep deprivation). But it isn't told in the most gracious way. Well now I just made myslef feel totally bad about the post. But, true to my journalistic integrity i leave it as it is.
I doubt the guy will look me up online. He told me that because of his bi-polarity (is that a real word) he might not even remember me if he doesn't lose my contact information. But I look like an ass to the people who know me and read my blog on a regular basis. Well crap.
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