Chloe

About a year ago a former student of mine passed away.  She'd battled leukemia since the eighth grade.  When she died she was a senior in high school.  I miss her. Last year the school held several fundraising events and brought quite a bit of attention to her life and her story. This year, as with everything, there's not as much light on the issue.  I understand, we're human, things fade. They're making bracelets to honor life and struggle.  Just thinking about her again is saddening, and I have to fight back the tears.  I just remember feeling like it wasn't that big of a deal. She'll fight and she'll win. She didn't.

When I was in the seventh grade a classmate of mine died as a result of leukemia as well.  I miss them both.

Blog Pride Day

I'm coming out of the blog closet-- soon.  I've hidden this little puppy from everyone except Amy, Kim, and Barb for many reasons.   One, they don't judge me ... ever, at least not to my face.  :) Everything I write here is something I've already told them about over the phone, or in Kim's case g-chat.  I just need the catharsis of typing/writing it out. I'm choosing now because apart of hiding in the closet was because I was afraid of what people will think.  Will they judge me for my anger or my longing?  Will they think less of me?  They might and that's alright.

I'm moving in seven months, that's actually a nice amount of time, and people will want to know what I'm up to.  I'm going to get a prepaid cell phone for emergencies.  I'm not going to part the Red Sea trying to find a job.  I figure a monthly cell phone bill costs as much as Garvey's dog food from this wonderful establishment and if I have to choose a phone or my best friend, I'm gonna choose le pup.

Going through my old blogs wasn't as hard as I thought it would be. It wasn't hard at all. It didn't feel like anything.  I fixed a few glaring grammatical mishaps, deleted one sentence, and that's it.  I was proud of myself.  I didn't feel the need to hide anything from anyone.  When I started this blog with "I saw at sea a great fog bank between two ships that struck and sank..." my heart was crumbling.  I felt like life had ended and forgotten to take me with it, gosh was I pitiful.  I needed an anonymous outlet.  The profile information, the email address, the picture, all faux material.  But no more, I've been hiding in the closet because I was used to it; not sharing my story because it involved other people.  When I was going to group, it's been like a year since my last visit, one of the women whose husband's behavior had damaged her so severely she lost sight of her self and attempted suicide, told us she's not going to hide because "...it's her story to tell."  Those words rang out and resounded in me like a toddler with a musical triangle walking through a cave. My life is my story. I have never, nor will I ever post disparaging remarks about anyone.  That would defeat this blog's purpose.  I write to reflect.  I don't need to mow anyone over for my own self-actualization.

My Icebreaker baselayer pants are coming in the mail today. Yay!  I'll wait to go for a run until they arrive.  I think my trekking poles will also arrive so I may go to the rails to trails and do a test run.  Rasta's front paw is injured. She's not putting any weight on it so she'll probably have to stay here.  :(  She's so much fun. I think I like her more than I like Garvey. Uh-oh.  It's just apart of her charm.  I think Garvey loves her more than he loves me.  So we're even. She does resemble Buckeye (the SBA three- legged dog) as she runs. That is unfortunate.

While I'm waiting for my Fed-Ex boyfriend I'm going to sit in my down sleeping bag (I turned the heat off last night so I could test it out: A+++) finish some planning for MLK Jr. Day, take packing boxes to the basement, vacuum shards of tile from my carpet and take a shower, maybe. My apartment is freezing and being cold and wet are a combination of my two least favorite states of being.

All-in-all I'm feeling mighty fine.  :)

Emancipation Proclamation

I'm going to attempt to thru hike the 790 mile baby beast that is the Arizona trail (AZT).  At this point my departure date is August 18, 2010.  Ahhh! Writing it means that others know about it.  It's no longer some internal desire. Well, proclaming it here doesn't make it wholly external.  There's nothing external that will push me to finish.  Except God. And I'm not fully convinced that God is external.

I feel like so much of my life has been future-oriented or past-related. Working full-time has made me wish for time to hike and travel.  I'm quitting my job soon enough and the panic that takes residence is evidence that something is wrong.  I shouldn't be so worried about something that's happening so far in the future.  When I think about moving to AZ my chest palpates and I feel uneasy. When I research the AZT wonder drives me.  A bit of trepidation flutters, but mostly wonder and peace.  I may not finish.  So what. I'm going to try. That's what's important to me.

Right now, I'm deciding if I should sell my belongings... again. I'm leaning toward no because I have really great stuff and I don't want to have to buy it all over again.  I don't mind getting rid of the meaningless things, but my oversized chair and mosaic table are two things that signify good things.

My 0 degree down bag came in the mail today. Yay!  My Smartwool shirt came yesterday.  A bunch of other gear is on its way.  My tent (so excited) should be here in a week or so. I'm going to take Garvey on an overnight camping trip so I can see what we're both made of... can we handle the cold? Most of the other things will go into storage till I'm through with grad school.

I'll be fine. The prospect of mountain lions freaks me out a bit, not gonna front.  Other than that, I'll be fine.  :)

Maternal

For the first time in my life, I awoke with a feeling of connection.  I’d had a dream that I was pregnant and gave birth to a baby girl.  Her hair was straight and black; she was part Asian, she looked older than a newborn and she was screaming as they pulled her away from me. Inside I remember feeling calm.  Taking solace in the knowledge that no matter where she was, we would be linked.

Then I was in a cafeteria of sorts.  I dreamt that there were pictures of the nurses taking her away from me on all of the walls.  I asked the people eating lunch if they’d seen her. Initially, they all answered no. Then, after a half an hour I was making rounds again and they all admitted that they’d seen her a half an hour ago.   It felt like I was in some sort of time continuum.  I wouldn’t stop searching, but no one would help me look for her.  No one else was concerned that she was missing. 

Just before I woke up a different part of the room appeared.  I was on my way to search in that direction when I woke up.  I felt sad. I wanted to hold her in my arms, to be her parent, but the opportunity never presented itself. 

I want to be a parent.  Not now perhaps, but eventually, soon.   I had a great Christmas.  My phone was off, I cleaned my apartment, hung out with my dog made the largest breakfast I’d make for myself in years.  I just learned how to make potato latkes.  AMAZING.  If I do have a family I want our Christmases to be something similar. Low-key but family oriented. No tree. No lights, no decorations.  Just a day where we rejoice that we’re in each other’s lives.  I’d like that very much.

Pillar

Today will be one of the toughest days of my life.  There's a lot going on at work.  I have papers due for grad school and the weather outside is damn miserable.  I'm seriously crossing Minnesota off my list for Ed.D programs because I guarantee I won't be able to handle the effing weather; -30 actual temp is about as desirable as a childhood diagnosis of rheumatoid arthritis and ARPKD.

We're having a reunion of sorts for the girls today.  All three years combined. In one place. In this weather. AWESOME.

They're gonna ask me questions about he and I and now she and I and she and he. I don't know if it's better to bring it up myself, and get it over with, or leave it be and take care of it when one of them brings it up.

Today will be difficult not because of one thing, but because of kaleidoscope life I'm living.  I want desperately to be held and told "All will be fine." Not good, not great, but fine.  That's all I want. I've done the holding and mothering, mentoring, and sistering, but not the partnering.  I want to lay in his arms and feel what I'm feeling and not talk about it. Not yet.  Lay and laugh, or cry whichever tickles my fancy. I want to know that someone is there.  I know God is "there" or "here" or "wherever." That's not enough for me.  That's probably blasphemous to say, but it doesn't change how I feel.

I want to weep and cry.  I will, trust me.  I want to fall and sob, and I will. I'll pick myself up "weary and bruised to the bone," but I want help getting up.  A totem-pole of strength on which to brace myself till I can stand fully erect.  I need that, but for now, as usual, I will do it on my own.

Arizona

 San Francisco by Brett Dennen

Go if you want to go
But I won't follow
Just so you know
Leave if you need to leave
But I won't be here
I wont be here when you come home

I'm gonna to move to San Francisco
Look up some old friends
I'm gonna get me a navy pea coat
And an old Mercedes Benz

This old town it keeps shrinking
There's too many people in my junk
I'm gonna do a lot of drinking
Cause it don't hurt when I'm drunk

Chorus

I'm gonna rent me an old Victorian
Down in the Lower Haight
I'm gonna find me an old accordion
Play for the tourists on the golden gate

I'm gonna plant a garden
Paint my bathroom blue
I'm gonna try real hard
To get over you

Here in the city life doesn't move so slow
There's plenty of good people I know
Up in north beach they drink spicy Italian liqueur
Down on market there's a lot of hobos and the hustlers

Down in Hayes Valley, there's a lot of real good restaurants
Deep in the tenderloin you can get anything you want
Over in the mission it's always a sunny day
It's a real good baseball town but my team is across the bay

I feel the need to just go.

If I had to write a personal ad this is probably what it would look like a la the Stephanie Klein format:

I hate the ways Chacos look.  I think they make your feet look swollen.  I'd rather be outdoors climbing a mountain or skiing down a slope, but I need someone to show me how.  I enjoy backpacking through difficult terrain because of the journey not the overlook.  I don't talk when I hike probably because I'm trying to catch my breath.  I have so much of something sleeping inside me and theatre is the only safe conduit for it's electricity when it slips from hibernation. I laugh loud and often, its my favorite thing to do. I'll cook for you and your friends, and your friends friends and their family as long as you look me in the eye after your first bite and tell me that you like it.  I want kids... I don't care the order, or how many, but I want the chance to build a family of my own. I blow my nose more often than I breathe and sometimes the tissues don't always make it to the trash can on the first or third try. I don't shower everyday. I enjoy camping because the inaccessibility of a bathroom allows me to be just as dirty as I like being.  l have too many pillows on my bed and get frustrated in the middle of the night when they're suffocating me . I have to sleep with something against my back and I'd prefer you over a pillow.  I love vodka tonics with orange flavored vodka. I am still amazed at things like sex and alcohol because I was raised to believe that they're wrong and one shouldn't indulge in them without the proper supervision -- or at all.

You would make me feel safe.   This world magnifies my personality to make it larger than life and describes it as intimidating , but you understand it's because I've had to create a little bit of everyone I love in myself because my "real" family left a long time ago.  You'd let me read in your company. You doing what you do, watching tv, or on the computer or reading , but you'd drape your arm over my shoulder and let me lean against you as I read or solved a crossword puzzle (which I don't do) or Sudoku (which I haven't done in years). But you'd let me do what I do quietly and be okay not being the certain of my attention. You'd lead me through crowds by holding my hand and paving the way...not because I can't walk or lead myself, but because I feel safer when you do.  You are well aware of your emotions, feelings and are able and comfortable to express them when the times comes... no matter how ugly or pleasant you're not afraid to let me see who you are. You're comfortable sourcing your life from something that has nothing to do with me. You're aware of a God that created us and define It according to your understanding, not someone else's.   You'd laugh with me during the most difficult time in either or both of our lives with the understanding that our journey's are separate, we just choose to bike through them together. You pick up whenever I call if you can. You communicate without me having to walk you through the process.  You tell me I'm wrong kindly and gently, but stand your ground if its something you believe and you're unafraid when I challenge that view.

We laugh. We experience life together with knowing looks, smiles and beneath the table knee connections.  We are together for a very long time probably till death, but that sounds cliche and has been kidnapped by a faulty selfish institution so I'm afraid to say it...but it's what I mean.

An old friend

We had lunch yesterday.  We arrived at the same time. I was able to see him walking into the restaurant first which was nice. It didn't make my weird feelings go away, but I felt like I'd cheated and gotten a leg up somehow.  

I walked in as he was being seated.  He saw me, but didn't recognize me at first....  He looked the exact same, just a bit older.  No eyebrow ring. His hair was longer, but physically, he looked the same.  They sat us at this oddly shaped table and it was like we can sit here and be "that couple" that sits next to each other on a date -- which this was not, or we could be King and Queen enjoying a feast and sit at opposite ends of the table from one another.  We chose somewhere in between.  Close enough to talk and prop our legs up on the seat, but far enough so physical contact was minimal.

I'd prefer to not do the dissecting thing.  Where I overanalyze EVERY aspect of this "meeting." Drive myself nuts, and eventually get disappointed. I want to chock this up to a great reunion with an old friend.  Which, I think is what that was.  While we were on the ship I had a ridiculous crush on him.  Ridiculous.  We're in an impossible situation right now... I say that as if there is even a "we" or "situation."  I'm just antsy to move on by dating other people.  Any single male that I'm around is pretty much fair game at this point.  

We talked about who we are now, who we were, and he remembered things about me that I'd forgotten long ago.  I realized how much I missed him. I missed how comfortable I felt around him.  How it was okay for me to be excited and passionate and silly.  He made fun of me for little things, I was nervous at first, but things fell into place.  I couldn't ignore that old crush’s second cousin that showed up for a surprise visit.  He’s cute and he reminds me of Marty… he still reminds me of Marty. 

I’m at a difficult place in my life.  I’ve fully moved on from a very serious, crazily unhealthy relationship. I’ve dated other guys who appeared to have potential, but did not.  I’m ready for something.  When I see babies I do the whole “biological clock is ticking” coo and long for one of my own. But, I’m not there yet.  I’m not ready for a heavy-duty relationship.  I am, however, ready to be attractive to someone again.  To have someone look at me with longing and sincerity… to have someone look at me and see me.  It’s been far too long, but that’s my fault. I can be over cautious. 

Emotionally, I’m tender and bruised. I can’t help but feel betrayed by two people I cared about.  I feel that they could’ve been more mindful of exactly what their decisions would do to me. But, because of how sinister one can be and the naïveté the other tends toward, they’re incapable of understanding exactly why, how much, and what exactly hurt me.   As a result, I’m being far too mindful of what others need and how I could possibly hurt someone else. I’m overcompensating by looking too far into far too many nooks and crannies of the future.  I want to live my life as carefree and happily as I’d always intended. But I don’t want to hurt anyone. I don’t think our joys are supposed to be at the expense of others.   Is it possible to be in a relationship that doesn’t hurt? Where anger,jealousy, and mistrust aren’t the prevailing sentiments?  I’ve only had that with my female friends.  It’s an unfamiliar tendency in regards to the opposite sex, hence my over analysis of minutiae.  Is it possible for someone to fall in love with me and I them and for no one to lay singed and broken?