Category: Rants

I often wonder what the hell is going on. I’m talking about the large, economy sized sense of “What the HELL is going ON?“, not the small, travel sized one. The last couple of weeks have been by turns, very good, very bad and very surreal. I’ve had flashes of insight and neurotic collapse. I’ve had the agony and the ecstasy, the hangover and the bloody finger. Gawd!

Let us start with the bad – just to get it over with, shall we? OK. I had two emotionally fucked up days this week. Two weeks ago, I’d spent the weekend in KnoxVegas with the freakin’ family. That is most always a bummer. I got paid for some work I did, but the money is already spent and I’ve no idea where next month’s rent is gonna come from. Goddammit. I made a fabulous client contact: dropped everything, ran over there, fixed his computer with the hope of more work, but nooooooo, no more work for me. Goddammit. OH, but I am “the official Mac Chick”. Great, that and $600 will pay the fucking rent. Nick cut the hell out of his fingers on Sunday and after ungracefully passing out on the couch, I hauled him to the hospital. Damn good thing he wasn’t hemorrhaging, since I can’t keep vertical during a fucking crisis. Goddammit. I’m such a pussy!! Thanks to Dr. Andy for not being a pussy and helping with Nick.

Now the surreal parts. Realizing that Andy really is moving away. Not having the sound of FlowMasters any more. Noticing that nothing has been sorted or packed for Andy’s impending move. Having large amounts of separation anxiety about all this. Realizing how much I’ll miss Hobbes’ belly sessions. Being called a fiancée. Discovering, unsurprisingly, that I’ll have no money for rent and having absolutely NO CLUE what to do. Which leads the next discovery of how much I’ve become assimilated into the world according to Andy and Angie. Hearing lots of scientific information fall from my lips. Seeing the true nature of my relationship with Andy and feeling very, very sad about having to change all that. Feeling hope that we’ll hook up again in the Bay area and have dinner at least once a month. At least.

Oh, God. I guess that sort of overlaps the bad parts… It must, otherwise, why would I be so upset?

It’s hard to find the good parts after that, but if I don’t, I may just break down entirely and totally ruin Andy’s work session. So, onward to the good parts. The trip home was not as bad as I thought it’d be. The family responded well to the news that Andy and I are “revamping” our relationship. I felt a glimmer of support from my mother, of all people. I got support from my Granny and my Daddy. I’ve eaten out a lot. I’ve taken time out for myself. I’ve realized how much I’ve influenced the lives of those I love. Both for good and bad. And how it’s changed me. I’ve laughed a lot. I’m finally convinced that Andy and I will stay in touch. I’ve done nice things for my friends. I’ve shared some really great moments with Andy. I’ve shared some quality time with Nicholas. I’ve enjoyed the sound of kitties purring. I’ve been the recipient of some powerful mojo from my newly discovered healer: Nicholas. I had a really fun drunk with Andy.

I am such a lucky girl to have two such totally awesome men in my life. And such an emotional wreck! I’ve been hearing the song “Sour Girl” by STP a dozen times a day and I can’t help but see the correlation to my life and how Andy must feel now:

“She turned away
what was she lookin’ at?
She was a sour girl
the day that she met me.
Don’t turn away-
what was she lookin’ at?
She was a happy girl
the day that she left me.
Hey, what are you lookin’ at?
She was so happy on the day that she left me, the day that she left me, the day that she left me…”

I feel like I was a sour girl for a long time and now I’m not. And I’m a happy girl just as I’m leaving Andy. God, I’m a wreck. What in the blue fuck am I supposed to do to get through this? That trazadone in my medicine cabinet is sounding better and better…

But don’t worry, my dears. I’m not in a depression, I’m just blathering and whining. I’ve decided “what the fuck?” I may as well just blab this stuff here as anywhere. At least I can get it all out. And I feel that I really need to get it OUT. So there it is. Send your complaints to the management.

noon-ish

ANOTHER Rant. This must be some sort of twisted need that I’ve uncovered…

Quote from the book that has caused this outburst:

“…and inside me would be a howling so fierce I couldn’t believe the sounds weren’t coming out of my eyes, out of my ears, from beneath my fingernails. I couldn’t believe we weren’t both astonished…at this sudden excess in me, this unmanageable mess. There were a couple of times I tried to start telling you about it. But I couldn’t do it. There were no words.”

from The Pull of the Moon by Elizabeth Berg

I just finished a book I’ve been reading by Elizabeth Berg called “The Pull of the Moon”. It is about a 50 year old woman’s search for self, but it’s really about every woman’s search. Maybe every human’s search. It is beautifully written and extremely insightful about how women are ‘trained’ to behave and how it shuts us down emotionally. Perfect timing for me, eh? I’ve been thinking so much about my emotional state and trying to get to the ‘real’ me lately…

It’s funny. I’ve always considered myself a late bloomer in many ways: shoe tying, bicycle riding, going to college, falling in love. But now I think it’s because I have always been so far *ahead* in the way I think and feel. I was feeling teenager stuff (angst, dramatic suicide, parental disgust) when I was in fifth and sixth grade! I was 11 or 12. By the time High School was ending, I was so OVER it. I was past it. I had BEEN past it for a couple of years.

Perhaps that is just another part of my dichotomous nature. I seem to be fraught with opposites that I cannot smooth into a whole.

I took a road trip about 3 years ago. I drove from Atlanta to San Francisco. It was supposed to be a walkabout, but now I think it was just a precursor to my real walkabout. I feel that I have MUCH more to learn about who I am. I know everyone does, but this feels like a real turning point for me. An early mid-life crisis, if you will. I suppose this is apropos, seeing as how I seem to be mentally and emotionally out of sync with my chronological age.

On the one hand, no one believes me when I tell them how old I am — I seem much younger (purple hair tends to throw people off). On the other hand, I feel much older than I am and I don’t seem to have the same thoughts banging around in my head as most people my age. Most are wanting to have a family if they don’t have one yet, or trying to get ahead on the ole job, or nesting in some fashion. But me, I’m trying to express myself and break out of my emotional languor and do what I am passionate about. I don’t care about money or security — I act like I already have it, even though I totally do NOT. Hell, I’m getting ready to move cross country!

I don’t know what all this means in the big scheme of things, really. All I know is that there is something afoot within me and it plans to show itself in one way or another.

I think this journal has been changed more than I intended.

Ever since my last entry, I’ve been thinking about my life and how it is reflected in this journal — or NOT, as is more the case. I’ve realized that I *do* have observations to make other than the intimate things that go on between me and my significant others. Yes, for those of you who are new here, there are TWO men in my life and yes it is very complicated and NO I’ll not go into it here.

Anyway, I was driving today, thinking about all of this. I was thinking about my fear of revealing myself and my emotional life and the self loathing that I suffer at various times. Yes, FEAR and LOATHING are still my obsession, but I think I’m figuring out why, so stick with me. I read others’ blogs and I identify so much with all the various levels of this concept that I just *know* it must have a deeper meaning than its face value.

I think that everyone has the fear of being found out. Not for any one thing, but just in general, FOUND OUT. For me, one of my things is my crippling self doubt. Not only do I have *that* to deal with, but I also have the FEAR that I’ll be found out to be a charlatan at ___________ (fill in the blank) so it makes me suffer even more trepidation. See the circle forming? A vicious one, yes.

I sit here, placidly gazing out my back window, watching the squirrels, blue jays and mockingbirds play as I chew my thumbnail and feel the tension in my body as it squeezes my neck and back. This is my current state. It is dichotomous and incongruent, yes, but it is so. I wonder if it shows? Does anyone realize how much I keep pent up in the name of decorum?

I have healers and magicians around me. I know that behaving this way is not good for me or my psyche. I know that I should “let it out” and purge all this hurt that I harbour. The bile and frustration I get out just fine, it’s the hurt that I can’t seem to do anything with. But it goes back to my deep hatred of emotional displays and (my favourite term) histrionics. I find these sorts of things very distasteful and uncomfortable, therefore I shun them. I can’t help but end up pointing the finger of blame to June, my mother. She was very emotionally unavailable to me growing up and she would chastise me for being “too sensitive, just like your father”. So I learned to comport myself and only react when angry. Which, of course, became all the time due to my frustration.

What to do? I do have little crying fits every now and then when I’m all alone and I can be all snotty and red-eyed in peace, but other than that, I really do nothing about the hurtful things that happen to me. I had a hurtful situation just the other day and I *did* tell someone about it, but I’m not sure that I dealt with it all that well. Actually, I think I ended up turning it on myself. Oooo, I guess I’d better start tap-tap-tapping my way to Emotional Freedom with the Emotional Freedom Technique…

I know that thinking good thoughts is good for you. I just have trouble doing it. It feels fake to me. It always has, this positive thinking thing. I try to tell myself things like “you are worthy of a good job” or “you are a fabulous person” but it just falls flat. It’s not that I tell myself I’m an asshole or anything, it’s just that I pick everything apart and I end up feeling inadequate. And those who know me think that I only do that to them. Hardly.

Perhaps this is the root of my ambivalence. Perhaps I’ve become so aware of my own inner dialog that it seems better to never make a decision than to make a crappy one and have to deal with the emotional upset that that would cause inside me.

Perfectionism can really suck sometimes!

Wow, I’ve written a whole page about my inner life. I hope the Peanut Gallery is happy. I’m not sure how I feel about it. Eh, better upload, before I lose my nerve.

God, so much has been going on…As you know from the blog, Apple contacted me over a week ago. I haven’t gotten anything more from the slacker HR guy since, but I plan to shake his cage again this week. We (Andy, Nick and me) attended a big soiree for the new Atlanta office of MarchFIRST.com last Thursday. [Interesting sidebar: Marchfirst went bankrupt in 2011. Another dot bomb.-Aug 2013] It was great fun and I made some cool contacts. I originally hooked up with them via a guy in the HR dept. who sent AMUG an email about the opening party. From there, I ended up being a VIP (!!) at the party! Too cool! I was not too interested in this company until I found out that they are the ones that do 90% of the marketing for Apple. Chiat/Day just does print – THESE guys do everything else! They came up with the iMac design fer cryin out loud! Now, it is my mission to get a job with them, if Apple does not hire me, that is. Both companies have bases in Cupertino CA, so I think now is the time to be persistent and get myself a real job at a company that I am enamoured with.

My age has been a topic of discussion a lot lately. Not in a bad way, but in a “God I’m glad I’m not in my 20’s any more!” sort of way. I had lunch with Dean yesterday and we talked about it because he just had a birthday on the 24th. And he will *always* be older than me!! Yay! :-) OK, yes, I’m not in my 20’s. And I’m damn glad, so there.

I’ve acquired some web work. One client is thru an agency (or should I say was?) and although the work is tedious, I’m happy to have it. The other gig is thru Guru.com (rocks!) but I’m not sure if I’ll actually get any work. The guy is not clear about what he wants to do or how much he wants to pay. Like clients *ever* know this. ARGH! “Oh, yes, Mr. Client, I know exactly what you want and I’ll do it for exactly the amount you want to pay! And you don’t have to do or say *anything* at all! I’ll just whip out my crystal ball and divine it all for you!” //end sarcasm

It has come to my attention that some of you (you know who you are) seem to think that I do not spill enough of my emotional life onto the web. I talk about the things that are going on with me, but not much about my innermost feelings and thoughts because that’s the way I want this blog to be. Because of the delicate nature of my intimate relationships, I can’t get into the really *good* stuff here. You all READ this, you see, so it would not be fair to blab about one person or another in my close circle. So I don’t.

So, how much is enough? How much is too much? I could prolly have more relevant commentary about my life and how I feel about my life. I’m not much for public displays of angst or whatever, but I will try to muster up something more intimate. Lessee. OK, here’s a nugget: leaving my little nest here will be VERY difficult. Although I really hate Georgia, I really like my home: it’s comfy, my cats have freedom, I have a garden. Just the thought of leaving makes me very teary and upset. This place has been my haven for a long time and it matters to me. This is one very big source of angst for me right now.

It’s funny how ambivalence lurks in the corners of your mind. I can usually detect it in myself, but lately, I’ve discovered that I’m a LOT more ambivalent about many more things than I thought: love, jobs, friends, even what kind of beer to buy. I haven’t been doing yoga, or getting adjustments regularly, either. Nor have I thrown any (tarot) cards. Perhaps I’m just avoiding these things in order to avoid confronting the real issues of my life? A good point to ponder…

“Pinky, are you pondering what I’m pondering? Well, yes, Brain, but where are we gonna get a rubber hose and tutu at this time of night?”

No, I don’t know where that came from, either. Must be the onset of dementia…