I am totally grossed out if I find a piece of hair in my food - even if the hair is mine.
I am not bothered at all by finding a piece of cat fur in my food - even if the cat is someone else's.
2/25/09
2/24/09
Autumn
Love... romantic love....
I thought about it at length today, walking home from work... ok, well, then I thought about it for 15 minutes or so.
It's a wonderful thing. I guess.
I suppose.
It's like the summer - expansive and delicious, sultry, full of fun and anticipation, dreams and daydreams. And you throw yourself at it, you leap joyfully and trust that you will be caught; reason flees and enthusiasm takes over, you feel omnipotent, courageous, tender, full and fulfilled. You believe. You believe that everything is good and possible; it’s all at your fingertips, just waiting to be reached for. And you are going to reach, and it’s going to be yours.
And it feels great, at the time.
But at the end of a relationship, after a long haul, when you finally turn the corner and realize you’re alone again and that it’s truly over - it’s such a relief, coming back to my senses – it’s like waking up – and the world is clear again, my head is clear again - and it feels like a crisp clean autumn day after a hot muggy summer; full of new strength and renewed purpose.
And all is well.
I thought about it at length today, walking home from work... ok, well, then I thought about it for 15 minutes or so.
It's a wonderful thing. I guess.
I suppose.
It's like the summer - expansive and delicious, sultry, full of fun and anticipation, dreams and daydreams. And you throw yourself at it, you leap joyfully and trust that you will be caught; reason flees and enthusiasm takes over, you feel omnipotent, courageous, tender, full and fulfilled. You believe. You believe that everything is good and possible; it’s all at your fingertips, just waiting to be reached for. And you are going to reach, and it’s going to be yours.
And it feels great, at the time.
But at the end of a relationship, after a long haul, when you finally turn the corner and realize you’re alone again and that it’s truly over - it’s such a relief, coming back to my senses – it’s like waking up – and the world is clear again, my head is clear again - and it feels like a crisp clean autumn day after a hot muggy summer; full of new strength and renewed purpose.
And all is well.
2/11/09
by the way
I've decided that the post I wrote a couple of posts down, about relationships, is total bullshit.
If people can't handle things being said, it's their own damn fault.
If people can't handle things being said, it's their own damn fault.
ambition
This is something I've been told I have very little of.
It's an odd thing - I just looked up the word, and it's defined as: 1) goal (n.) -aim, objective, aspiration, dream, hope, desire, purpose 2) drive (n.) -determination, get-up-and-go, motivation.
I'd say I have all those things. I have goals and dreams, and determination and motivation. And yet... no ambition, apparently.
Kinda weird.
Walking home from work last night, I was listening to music and just walking along, feeling the breeze on my face, smelling the good earthy smells from ground that had just had its first warm day in months, looking up at the stark black branches in the sky, enjoying their shapes; enjoying the firmness of the non-snowy ground under my feet; enjoying the twilight solitude, and the mood of the song on my headphones.
And again I was reminded of why I tend not to stretch for jobs or degrees or recognition - it all just seems so superfluous to Life. I just can't bring myself to care about any of that - though I've tried to care. I've tortured myself over it for years. And I mean, sure, I'd love a more interesting job, I guess, but really, no matter what I've done in my life, or where I've lived, it all comes down to the same common denominators - the earth, the stark branches against the sky, the scents in the air... and friends and family and laundry and cooking... reading before bed... getting up early... looking forward to a free day.
I noticed that first when I was 15 and we lived in Spain. "OH!" everyone gushed, "How wonderful, how romantic, oh I would love to spend a year in a foreign country! Oh you must have changed so much!"
Their enthusiasm made me feel guilty and inadequate - I felt like I should have a special sheen and sparkle, somehow. But in Spain I went to the grocery store, I did laundry, I went to school, I had a crush on a boy who didn't know I existed, I dreamt, I was lonely, I ate too much, I wrote letters, I paid bus fares, I did homework, I slept, I woke early and stared at patterns on the ceiling. It was just as difficult and boring and beautiful as my life in Oneonta.
There is nothing and nowhere in life that is more or less romantic, or more or less common, than anything or anywhere else. It may just seem that way, if you haven't spent much time with it.
Ambition seems inherently tied to the illusion that the grandeur in life is to be found somewhere other than where you are currently standing.
-Which isn't an argument for maintaining the status quo - just a reminder that you have it all right now. And if you do something different, you'll still have it all.
It's an odd thing - I just looked up the word, and it's defined as: 1) goal (n.) -aim, objective, aspiration, dream, hope, desire, purpose 2) drive (n.) -determination, get-up-and-go, motivation.
I'd say I have all those things. I have goals and dreams, and determination and motivation. And yet... no ambition, apparently.
Kinda weird.
Walking home from work last night, I was listening to music and just walking along, feeling the breeze on my face, smelling the good earthy smells from ground that had just had its first warm day in months, looking up at the stark black branches in the sky, enjoying their shapes; enjoying the firmness of the non-snowy ground under my feet; enjoying the twilight solitude, and the mood of the song on my headphones.
And again I was reminded of why I tend not to stretch for jobs or degrees or recognition - it all just seems so superfluous to Life. I just can't bring myself to care about any of that - though I've tried to care. I've tortured myself over it for years. And I mean, sure, I'd love a more interesting job, I guess, but really, no matter what I've done in my life, or where I've lived, it all comes down to the same common denominators - the earth, the stark branches against the sky, the scents in the air... and friends and family and laundry and cooking... reading before bed... getting up early... looking forward to a free day.
I noticed that first when I was 15 and we lived in Spain. "OH!" everyone gushed, "How wonderful, how romantic, oh I would love to spend a year in a foreign country! Oh you must have changed so much!"
Their enthusiasm made me feel guilty and inadequate - I felt like I should have a special sheen and sparkle, somehow. But in Spain I went to the grocery store, I did laundry, I went to school, I had a crush on a boy who didn't know I existed, I dreamt, I was lonely, I ate too much, I wrote letters, I paid bus fares, I did homework, I slept, I woke early and stared at patterns on the ceiling. It was just as difficult and boring and beautiful as my life in Oneonta.
There is nothing and nowhere in life that is more or less romantic, or more or less common, than anything or anywhere else. It may just seem that way, if you haven't spent much time with it.
Ambition seems inherently tied to the illusion that the grandeur in life is to be found somewhere other than where you are currently standing.
-Which isn't an argument for maintaining the status quo - just a reminder that you have it all right now. And if you do something different, you'll still have it all.
"Sometimes I'm not sure which"
Well, that's as far as I got last night, scribbling what I thought was a brilliant title for my next post on a piece of paper. I was interrupted before I could finish. Now I have no idea how that thought ended.
Recently I bought a book about feng shui. It's supposed to help me clean out my house. And, miracle of miracles, it's working better than I expected. It talks a lot about stagnation. Mental and emotional stagnation encouraged and perpetuated by environmental stagnation. I'm supposed to be throwing out all my broken dishes, purging the purported piles of random stuff that have accumulated in the corners of my rooms... and at the same time, loosening the death grip my brain has on the past. Or vice-versa; loosening the past's grip on my mind.
Following the same train of thought, I was considering weight-loss.
-Rather than a goal of thinness, or fitting into smaller pants, or becoming physically healthier, I was wondering about approaching it from the new angle of anti-stagnation. Ridding myself of bodily clutter.
Following that thought further, I envisioned myself going backwards through years of accumulated stores - this week, I'd work through 2008 Christmas chocolate and Thanksgiving turkey... next month, perhaps my birthday cake from the summer, or last year's Easter candy. Maybe after awhile, I could finally rid myself of meals I ate in 2001; my body will be flying through time, gaining speed as the ballast falls away.
Sounds great... in a totally psychotic way.
Recently I bought a book about feng shui. It's supposed to help me clean out my house. And, miracle of miracles, it's working better than I expected. It talks a lot about stagnation. Mental and emotional stagnation encouraged and perpetuated by environmental stagnation. I'm supposed to be throwing out all my broken dishes, purging the purported piles of random stuff that have accumulated in the corners of my rooms... and at the same time, loosening the death grip my brain has on the past. Or vice-versa; loosening the past's grip on my mind.
Following the same train of thought, I was considering weight-loss.
-Rather than a goal of thinness, or fitting into smaller pants, or becoming physically healthier, I was wondering about approaching it from the new angle of anti-stagnation. Ridding myself of bodily clutter.
Following that thought further, I envisioned myself going backwards through years of accumulated stores - this week, I'd work through 2008 Christmas chocolate and Thanksgiving turkey... next month, perhaps my birthday cake from the summer, or last year's Easter candy. Maybe after awhile, I could finally rid myself of meals I ate in 2001; my body will be flying through time, gaining speed as the ballast falls away.
Sounds great... in a totally psychotic way.
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