1. Love is not a disease. Therefore, you cannot be cured of it.
2. Same thing with stupidity.
3. Love and stupidity often go hand in hand.
I suppose this is why they say ignorance is bliss. ;)
Also, it was a typical greycloudyrainingtypicalseattlesuicidal day when I decided to make a peanut butter and honey sandwich for lunch.
The rain stopped.
the skies cleared.
The sun came out.
Birds sang.
I think a lightning bolt on my plate would have been a more subtle hint that God wanted a bite.... hehehe
life is weird, y'know that?
But then again, so is putting bee spit on toasted solids consisting of baked vegetable secretions, plants ground into powder and chicken reproductive byproducts so really, who am I to judge? :)
Tuesday, March 31, 2009
Saturday, March 21, 2009
Hard Pills to Swallow
only two things have really shaken me up this week, and possibly shaken me up more than anything else in my entire life.
1. My mom is allergic to onions. I have no idea why this news is so "life-altering" to me but I suddenly almost feel like the last 28 years of my life have been a complete lie. I'm sure it stems mostly from the idea that I could have lived my entire life with her and never known such a small detail about her. I've wrestled with logic for the last three days and can find none. All I know is it came as a bigger shock than finding out Santa wasn't real.
2. My fish is old. He's also sick, but more than that, he's old. I've had carnival fish before and they've all died within a month or two. But this fish I've had for years. Going on four years, two cities, four different houses, he DIED once already in an ice storm and came back to life after 18 hours.
I realize now why God didn't make it a habit of bringing things back from the dead. I guess I took a "Green Mile" mentality and assumed my fish would live forever. Out live me, even, so I wouldn't have to face the fact that he will eventually die and not come back.
I've been giving him medicine, watching him get smaller, less lively, less colorful, less alive... I've given him treats, new toys, more colorful gravel, a better view of the bedroom, I've put up pictures for him to look at so he won't be lonely, I talk to him every morning and night, I give him kisses (and he still swims up to the side of the bowl to give kisses back) and I feel slightly more sane than Tom Hank's relationship with a volleyball, but still not quite capable of grasping the fact that Picasso is not sick. He's dying. He will eventually be dead.
We live in a culture so obsessed with youth, with life, with saving someone form this "HORRID" thing called death. I've literally been to more than a dozen funerals in my life. That averages out to one about every two and a half years since birth.
I'm aware that people die when they get old and that's okay. Most people are not. My abuelo died last year on my birthday and while yes, I was very sad, I was very happy he lived to be so old. When I came back from the services, all my friends and coworkers told me how sorry they were and asked if anything was done to try to revive him. And really, I was more than put off by the question. He was well into his 80s, he wasn't mentally ever in just one place at the same time and he was happy to go. And we were happy to let him.
I guess I've just come to expect too many Elijah's in my life. My great-grandmother was my best friend growing up and one day she "moved off to Texas" and eventually she died. Yeah, it was hard, but I didn't see it happen. My great-grandfather moved off to Mexico almost 20 years ago and he was in his 80s as well. I never heard from him again. I know logically, he probably passed on a very long time ago but in my mind, there's a chance he might still be out there at 107 or whatever. When I moved here 7 years ago, I had to leave my cat behind with my parents. After 18 years, she passed away. I know she's gone and my parents showed me where they buried her but in my mind, she just moved off to Mexico to go explore.
Picasso is different. He's MY fish. he's only ever been mine. No relation to anyone else, no one else helped raise him, no one else has the attachment to him that I do. We're a team. When he dies, it will be "my fault" for not being able to make him live forever.
I'm not sure how to reconcile with this thought.
It's just hard watching him die.
1. My mom is allergic to onions. I have no idea why this news is so "life-altering" to me but I suddenly almost feel like the last 28 years of my life have been a complete lie. I'm sure it stems mostly from the idea that I could have lived my entire life with her and never known such a small detail about her. I've wrestled with logic for the last three days and can find none. All I know is it came as a bigger shock than finding out Santa wasn't real.
2. My fish is old. He's also sick, but more than that, he's old. I've had carnival fish before and they've all died within a month or two. But this fish I've had for years. Going on four years, two cities, four different houses, he DIED once already in an ice storm and came back to life after 18 hours.
I realize now why God didn't make it a habit of bringing things back from the dead. I guess I took a "Green Mile" mentality and assumed my fish would live forever. Out live me, even, so I wouldn't have to face the fact that he will eventually die and not come back.
I've been giving him medicine, watching him get smaller, less lively, less colorful, less alive... I've given him treats, new toys, more colorful gravel, a better view of the bedroom, I've put up pictures for him to look at so he won't be lonely, I talk to him every morning and night, I give him kisses (and he still swims up to the side of the bowl to give kisses back) and I feel slightly more sane than Tom Hank's relationship with a volleyball, but still not quite capable of grasping the fact that Picasso is not sick. He's dying. He will eventually be dead.
We live in a culture so obsessed with youth, with life, with saving someone form this "HORRID" thing called death. I've literally been to more than a dozen funerals in my life. That averages out to one about every two and a half years since birth.
I'm aware that people die when they get old and that's okay. Most people are not. My abuelo died last year on my birthday and while yes, I was very sad, I was very happy he lived to be so old. When I came back from the services, all my friends and coworkers told me how sorry they were and asked if anything was done to try to revive him. And really, I was more than put off by the question. He was well into his 80s, he wasn't mentally ever in just one place at the same time and he was happy to go. And we were happy to let him.
I guess I've just come to expect too many Elijah's in my life. My great-grandmother was my best friend growing up and one day she "moved off to Texas" and eventually she died. Yeah, it was hard, but I didn't see it happen. My great-grandfather moved off to Mexico almost 20 years ago and he was in his 80s as well. I never heard from him again. I know logically, he probably passed on a very long time ago but in my mind, there's a chance he might still be out there at 107 or whatever. When I moved here 7 years ago, I had to leave my cat behind with my parents. After 18 years, she passed away. I know she's gone and my parents showed me where they buried her but in my mind, she just moved off to Mexico to go explore.
Picasso is different. He's MY fish. he's only ever been mine. No relation to anyone else, no one else helped raise him, no one else has the attachment to him that I do. We're a team. When he dies, it will be "my fault" for not being able to make him live forever.
I'm not sure how to reconcile with this thought.
It's just hard watching him die.
Thursday, March 19, 2009
Time is all we've lost
Sunshine go away today
I don't feel much like dancing
Some man's gone, he's tried to run my life
Don't know what he's asking
Sometime between last week and this morning, I realized I've been trying to play a part simply because it was expected of me. I've had at least six or seven friends get married in the last FIVE months. To date (that I can remember off the top of my head) I've caught wedding bouquets from Jen, Laurel, Kara, Megan and my aunt Crystal's weddings. That's only what I can remember. And at Crystal's wedding, I was on crutches. After a while, the sparkle wears off. I don't catch bouquets out of luck. I've simply mastered the anticipation of velocity, force and distance over the last ten years and know exactly where and how to stick my hand up in the air. Clearly the myth of "next to get married" isn't true.
He tells me I'd better get in line
Can't hear what he's saying
When I grow up I'm going to make it mine
But these ain't dues I been paying
When I was 21, I decided to get married simply because there was nothing left for me to do in life besides get married and have kids. I'd already been on television, I'd performed on stage, I'd been published in newspapers, I'd gotten a tattoo, cut my infamously long hair, graduated high school, gone to college, been a radio dj, and by the time the ring came around, I had a solid plan for a power suit career. Why not add a husband and a few glue-eaters to the mix? I mean, once you're done living your own life, you give it over to someone else and you mush it together like two different colors of play-doh and it's never your own color again. That's not a bad thing, but it's what you do when you've done everything you thought you wanted to do. I bought the dress. I bought the shoes. I wore the ring, I got the toasting glasses and had a MAJOR family blow-out that led to people not speaking to me until they DIED... all over my choice of a cake topper. And then one day, I woke up and it was all over.
How much does it cost, I'll buy it
The time is all we've lost, I'll try it
But he can't even run his own life
I'll be damned if he'll run mine, Sunshine
I got a car, an apartment, a mini fridge and when I bought my very first, very own TV/VCR, I knew there was no going back. See, there was already a tv in the living room, and there was another in the bedroom. There was no room or need for a third television. It was the most purposeful purchase I've ever made in my life and at the time, 75 dollars seemed like a million I couldn't afford. And then life came back for seconds. I fell back into television, back into radio, back into newspapers, I got a bigger apartment, a nicer bed, a full sized fridge and tv three times bigger than my first. History repeats itself and, if we are to follow logical conclusions, it should be "about that time again.... eh?" And I've thought long and hard about it, I truly have. But this morning, I woke up with a new decision.
Working starts to make me wonder where
The fruits of what I do are going
He says in love and war all is fair
But he's got cards he ain't showing
I've been going through boxes, going through life, going through things I used to wonder how I could ever live without. And really, there's not much justification for a lot of what makes these walls "home." I spent the weekend daydreaming about shelf paper, painting the walls, shampooing the carpet. Alternately, selling everything I can't fit into a $20 U-hual and leaving this town like an awkward one-night stand. Which is not to say I haven't enjoyed my time here. I just wonder why I'm still here. Why I haven't left yet. Why I should even bother to leave. I still have the grad school paperwork for new Mexico and the hand written letter from the department head. That was 2007. I could still go work for the Smithsonian and make my grandfather the happiest man on earth. I could join Immigration and make my dad proud that I still fair very well with a gun. More than anything, I've been thinking about Lizzy. Airports, airplanes. The one place I've always been the happiest. The only thing ever holding me back in life is the possibility of love.
How much does it cost, I'll buy it
The time is all we've lost, I'll try it
But he can't even run his own life
I'll be damned if he'll run mine, Sunshine
I've thought long and hard about the subject since I started going through all these different boxes and I've come to a very solid conclusion: I'm tired of love. This is not some "scorned lover tries to put up a brick wall" psychological game. I'm really done for now. I called my mom once and said "Mom.... I'm in love with a dumbass..." to which she so June Cleaver-ly replied "Honey, EVERY guy you've EVER dated was a dumbass. That's just how guys are." I laughed until i cried and she commented on how that wasn't the pep talk either of us intended. I asked her a few months ago if she'd be disappointed in me if I never got married. She was more than a little upset by the question and said "I don't know where you got this idea that you HAD to be married. The only thing I want for you in life is to be happy." And honestly, there was never a more freeing moment in my life. I bought the 1950s cookware I'd always wanted, I bought a sparkly diamond ring because I had a preferred customer coupon. I indulged in everything I thought I couldn't have because "Someday I'm gonna get married and we'll have to consolidate our belongings and the reality is, no guy wants a tie-dyed couch or pink dishes." so I held back. But I can't afford to wait any longer to be who I want to be in fear that it might drive away someone who might love me. I'm tired of waiting. I'm tired of waiting to LIVE.
Sunshine come on back another day
I promise you I'll be singing
This old world, she's gonna turn around
Brand new bells'll be ringing
I don't feel any sense of loss for the friends of mine who've gotten married. I couldn't be happier for them. I'm just eager to let go of the expectation I feel to follow in their trail. Back in January, I found a dress pattern in the fabric store that spoke to me. The girls there all know me by name and one in particular is on a first-name basis with me. I showed her the dress pattern and she said it was beautiful (and on super sale for $2.99 down from at least $16 so of course I had to buy it). As I was walking to the front of the store, I passed a floor sign that had the exact same style dress, but in white. And it was the most beautiful dress I'd ever seen in my whole life. I grabbed the clerk and said "Isn't that the EXACT same thing I just found in the drawer???" and even she was a bit amazed. The funny thing is, the pattern I got wasn't from the bridal section. I still have a picture of the floor sign on my cameraphone, but I don't think the dress will ever be white when I make it.
But then, it doesn't need to be. See, I haven't given up on love. I'm just finding it in new places. Who knows, I might make the dress in red and wear it to all the weddings I've been invited to for 2009. Maybe I'll make it as a wedding dress for a friend. Maybe I'll wear it to a fancy dinner party and feel like Cinderella.... but go home with BOTH my shoes.
I saw the movie Hitch last night for the first time and I've spent the day in a season 2 Gilmore Girls marathon as they plan for her wedding. I only caught a few episodes back when it was on the air but I know things don't work out for her and this guy. However, that doesn't make it any less exciting. And that was when I realized it. I don't have any current desire to be in love. I'm not stupid enough to say "forever and ever amen." But for now, I'm more than happy enough watching it happen to others. And while it may sound completely against the societal norm, I should be allowed for that to be enough.
And honestly, I don't think I've ever been happier.
In the middle of the summer of 2005 when my mom and I were barely speaking, she came down to see me in Arizona and we pulled her old wedding dress out of the garage. She said "It's 70s, and I know you like vintage stuff, but I don't ever expect you to wear it. BUT - it has bell sleeves and I think you'd think they were cool and I've always wanted to see what you would look like in it so would you humour me and try it on?"
My neighbors must have thought I looked like an idiot standing in the front lawn wearing black flip flops and a LONG SLEEVE white satin dress in 117 degree sunshine. (114 in the shade)
But the point was not to hope some marital luck would rub off on me or even that I might fall in love with the dress and daydream about my very own "someday" when a prince would come.
Sometimes you just want to see what it would look like. And in the front yard that day, we both looked like complete idiots. But we had fun. And really, how many people can wander around the house in their mom's wedding dress without getting in trouble?
Life should be lived. Not waited for. And if at all possible, take pictures along the way...
I don't feel much like dancing
Some man's gone, he's tried to run my life
Don't know what he's asking
Sometime between last week and this morning, I realized I've been trying to play a part simply because it was expected of me. I've had at least six or seven friends get married in the last FIVE months. To date (that I can remember off the top of my head) I've caught wedding bouquets from Jen, Laurel, Kara, Megan and my aunt Crystal's weddings. That's only what I can remember. And at Crystal's wedding, I was on crutches. After a while, the sparkle wears off. I don't catch bouquets out of luck. I've simply mastered the anticipation of velocity, force and distance over the last ten years and know exactly where and how to stick my hand up in the air. Clearly the myth of "next to get married" isn't true.
He tells me I'd better get in line
Can't hear what he's saying
When I grow up I'm going to make it mine
But these ain't dues I been paying
When I was 21, I decided to get married simply because there was nothing left for me to do in life besides get married and have kids. I'd already been on television, I'd performed on stage, I'd been published in newspapers, I'd gotten a tattoo, cut my infamously long hair, graduated high school, gone to college, been a radio dj, and by the time the ring came around, I had a solid plan for a power suit career. Why not add a husband and a few glue-eaters to the mix? I mean, once you're done living your own life, you give it over to someone else and you mush it together like two different colors of play-doh and it's never your own color again. That's not a bad thing, but it's what you do when you've done everything you thought you wanted to do. I bought the dress. I bought the shoes. I wore the ring, I got the toasting glasses and had a MAJOR family blow-out that led to people not speaking to me until they DIED... all over my choice of a cake topper. And then one day, I woke up and it was all over.
How much does it cost, I'll buy it
The time is all we've lost, I'll try it
But he can't even run his own life
I'll be damned if he'll run mine, Sunshine
I got a car, an apartment, a mini fridge and when I bought my very first, very own TV/VCR, I knew there was no going back. See, there was already a tv in the living room, and there was another in the bedroom. There was no room or need for a third television. It was the most purposeful purchase I've ever made in my life and at the time, 75 dollars seemed like a million I couldn't afford. And then life came back for seconds. I fell back into television, back into radio, back into newspapers, I got a bigger apartment, a nicer bed, a full sized fridge and tv three times bigger than my first. History repeats itself and, if we are to follow logical conclusions, it should be "about that time again.... eh?" And I've thought long and hard about it, I truly have. But this morning, I woke up with a new decision.
Working starts to make me wonder where
The fruits of what I do are going
He says in love and war all is fair
But he's got cards he ain't showing
I've been going through boxes, going through life, going through things I used to wonder how I could ever live without. And really, there's not much justification for a lot of what makes these walls "home." I spent the weekend daydreaming about shelf paper, painting the walls, shampooing the carpet. Alternately, selling everything I can't fit into a $20 U-hual and leaving this town like an awkward one-night stand. Which is not to say I haven't enjoyed my time here. I just wonder why I'm still here. Why I haven't left yet. Why I should even bother to leave. I still have the grad school paperwork for new Mexico and the hand written letter from the department head. That was 2007. I could still go work for the Smithsonian and make my grandfather the happiest man on earth. I could join Immigration and make my dad proud that I still fair very well with a gun. More than anything, I've been thinking about Lizzy. Airports, airplanes. The one place I've always been the happiest. The only thing ever holding me back in life is the possibility of love.
How much does it cost, I'll buy it
The time is all we've lost, I'll try it
But he can't even run his own life
I'll be damned if he'll run mine, Sunshine
I've thought long and hard about the subject since I started going through all these different boxes and I've come to a very solid conclusion: I'm tired of love. This is not some "scorned lover tries to put up a brick wall" psychological game. I'm really done for now. I called my mom once and said "Mom.... I'm in love with a dumbass..." to which she so June Cleaver-ly replied "Honey, EVERY guy you've EVER dated was a dumbass. That's just how guys are." I laughed until i cried and she commented on how that wasn't the pep talk either of us intended. I asked her a few months ago if she'd be disappointed in me if I never got married. She was more than a little upset by the question and said "I don't know where you got this idea that you HAD to be married. The only thing I want for you in life is to be happy." And honestly, there was never a more freeing moment in my life. I bought the 1950s cookware I'd always wanted, I bought a sparkly diamond ring because I had a preferred customer coupon. I indulged in everything I thought I couldn't have because "Someday I'm gonna get married and we'll have to consolidate our belongings and the reality is, no guy wants a tie-dyed couch or pink dishes." so I held back. But I can't afford to wait any longer to be who I want to be in fear that it might drive away someone who might love me. I'm tired of waiting. I'm tired of waiting to LIVE.
Sunshine come on back another day
I promise you I'll be singing
This old world, she's gonna turn around
Brand new bells'll be ringing
I don't feel any sense of loss for the friends of mine who've gotten married. I couldn't be happier for them. I'm just eager to let go of the expectation I feel to follow in their trail. Back in January, I found a dress pattern in the fabric store that spoke to me. The girls there all know me by name and one in particular is on a first-name basis with me. I showed her the dress pattern and she said it was beautiful (and on super sale for $2.99 down from at least $16 so of course I had to buy it). As I was walking to the front of the store, I passed a floor sign that had the exact same style dress, but in white. And it was the most beautiful dress I'd ever seen in my whole life. I grabbed the clerk and said "Isn't that the EXACT same thing I just found in the drawer???" and even she was a bit amazed. The funny thing is, the pattern I got wasn't from the bridal section. I still have a picture of the floor sign on my cameraphone, but I don't think the dress will ever be white when I make it.
But then, it doesn't need to be. See, I haven't given up on love. I'm just finding it in new places. Who knows, I might make the dress in red and wear it to all the weddings I've been invited to for 2009. Maybe I'll make it as a wedding dress for a friend. Maybe I'll wear it to a fancy dinner party and feel like Cinderella.... but go home with BOTH my shoes.
I saw the movie Hitch last night for the first time and I've spent the day in a season 2 Gilmore Girls marathon as they plan for her wedding. I only caught a few episodes back when it was on the air but I know things don't work out for her and this guy. However, that doesn't make it any less exciting. And that was when I realized it. I don't have any current desire to be in love. I'm not stupid enough to say "forever and ever amen." But for now, I'm more than happy enough watching it happen to others. And while it may sound completely against the societal norm, I should be allowed for that to be enough.
And honestly, I don't think I've ever been happier.
In the middle of the summer of 2005 when my mom and I were barely speaking, she came down to see me in Arizona and we pulled her old wedding dress out of the garage. She said "It's 70s, and I know you like vintage stuff, but I don't ever expect you to wear it. BUT - it has bell sleeves and I think you'd think they were cool and I've always wanted to see what you would look like in it so would you humour me and try it on?"
My neighbors must have thought I looked like an idiot standing in the front lawn wearing black flip flops and a LONG SLEEVE white satin dress in 117 degree sunshine. (114 in the shade)
But the point was not to hope some marital luck would rub off on me or even that I might fall in love with the dress and daydream about my very own "someday" when a prince would come.
Sometimes you just want to see what it would look like. And in the front yard that day, we both looked like complete idiots. But we had fun. And really, how many people can wander around the house in their mom's wedding dress without getting in trouble?
Life should be lived. Not waited for. And if at all possible, take pictures along the way...
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