tidbits

Item #1:
I have been saddened and infuriated at the vitriol spewed upon Senator Kennedy's death. I've heard a lot of conservatives say "I didn't agree with his policies", but they never say exactly WHAT they disagree with. Seems they just wish to disagree, just like they now like to yell the word "socialism", no matter how incorrectly they're using it. I'd posit that most of them are talking out of their asses and have no clue what he stood for, what he did, etc. They have visions of Mary Jo Kopechne dancing in their heads, and that's the cross they want to hang him on, despite the fact that many of them, no doubt, consider themselves "good Christians" and are supposed to be all about "forgiveness". In fact, according to them, ANY sin can be forgiven if you just accept Jebus Christ as your savior, even with just your last breath. That's convenient. Cancer research, Head Start, employment for the disabled, fair housing...the list of Kennedy's accomplishments is extensive. He could have lived out the past DECADES doing nothing but sailing, but he truly was an advocate for the voiceless, for the common man. That conservatives can't even honor or acknowledge that shows the astounding hypocrisy of their shaky platforms. Do I sound angry? Yes, I'm angry.

Item #2:
I'm supposed to meet someone tonight that I'm nervous about meeting. Honestly, I don't know how (certain guys I know) do this. Men have that impressive ability to compartmentalize and disassociate and just go in and get 'er done. I have to think at least a little about the safety factor, and I do, but I don't worry too much about it. I think my instincts are pretty good. But it's wearying. I just wish that I had someone who was there permanently, or someone that I already knew well. Getting to know someone for potential romantic/sexual purposes is just tiring now. The past 2 months or so have been filled with ongoing flirtations with a bunch of guys, all but one (this guy I'm meeting tonight) I already know, and most of whom aren't geographically near me.

Item #3:
I have moths. Those little cabinet moths that hang out in food. What are they called? Indian meal moths. Gross. Last night after finally killing one that was flying around the living room for hours, and also in light of item #4, I cleaned out all my kitchen cabinets and threw out a ton of stuff. Most everything was already stored in bags (to ostensibly keep them at bay), but I did find one box of crackers that was all moth-y and several hanging out in the cupboards. They are insidious and horrible. I have a feeling the fight's not yet over, despite Rocco's help via the occasional catch-and-eat.

Item #4:
A textile conservator friend gave me this rug on permanent loan. I'd been wanting a rug for a while, but, of course, there's no budget for something that's actually nice or not Target-grade. This one's the real deal. Ahhh...

1 day / 2 unpleasant tests

Yesterday, I had two medical procedures I was very much dreading. Not so much because the procedures themselves promised to be horrible, but because they could lead to a vasovagal response, seizure, hours of not being able to move, a few days of recovery. Therefore, I have to approach anything like this, which to most people would be an inconvenience and perhaps slightly nerve-wracking, like I'm going into battle. I have to announce my (what feels like) aberration, make sure that anything that's done be done with me lying down, etc. I have to out myself. Over the years, I've learned to be vocal, to slow things down, and I've prevented (an episode) from occurring for the past several years. There've been some close calls, but I've stopped them all, by halting the situation in its path.

The reason for these tests? Months ago, microscopic blood had been found in my urine. My nurse practitioner sent me to a urologist, who ordered these tests. He said that this could just be my normal, but it could also be a tumor, or cancer. So best to check. The first one was the CT scan with contrast, and it was the contrast that worried me. The way it was described, it seemed like the type of thing that would almost surely send me into a seizure. Not the IV needle (needles don't bother me), but the feeling of the dye going in. The guy was very nice, and patient, and the contrast was as described. A brief, but very weird and not particularly pleasant sensation. Like little white-hot heat lamps have been lit inside you all at once. Intense heat, very odd. The feeling goes away quickly, though.

From there, onto the cystoscopy, where they put a camera in your urethra (after a topical anesthetic). Now, that's bad enough, but the very nice urologist had trouble locating mine, which led to a search situation that was simultaneously comical, slightly embarrassing, and physically uncomfortable. But it too was pretty much as sold, which was akin to a pap smear, with slightly more discomfort. Let's hope that's the last one of those I have to go through, though. Nice urologist said he saw nothing that suggested cancers or tumors, though a little calcification (!) that didn't concern him.

Now, I think, we are done with the foreseeable tests. Whew. I got through these using all of my emotional reserves, and found that I was EXHAUSTED when I got home from the loin-girding (figurative and literal) they required.

I also met with the dietitian again and I've lost some lbs.

In other news, this heat wave can end any day now. Thanks. If it's not one extreme, it's another. Think of the children!

punishment

I don't want to eat, or drink. But I have to eat SOMETHING if I'm going to exercise or I'll crash in the middle of it (that means shaking, sweating, losing consciousness, so it's not something to fool around with). And I have to exercise if I'm going to become attractive to men again. And to deal with these various physical issues which may or may not be weight-related, but probably are. And to be able to look in a mirror again and not be appalled. But mostly because I feel decidedly unwell, and since I'm supposed to blame everything on my weight, that must be the cause.

I'm dealing with some serious issues that noone knows about. Noone, because I can't tell anyone. I wish I could. I wish I could get some support or some comfort, but in this case, I just can't speak it. So I'm home, alone, with nothing to do. I feel like the only thing I can do are these little self-flagellating actions, like not turning on the fan (it's 82) and not eating and not going outside. If I can't make myself feel better, maybe I can take some comfort in feeling worse? I'm not sure there's that much logic behind it. I would like to feel something other than on-the-verge-of-tears all the time.

I have a tiny bit of paid stuff I could do (and will), some volunteer stuff I need to do, and must write a description for a master class I'm supposed to teach, and nothing musical going on. And that is crushing me. I find that I can less and less even listen to music, because I feel like music has betrayed me. I've tried so hard, and I'm left with nothing, while so many others are doing great projects, on tours, making music and making money. I've just seen group after group of mine fall apart, and noone seems interested in my skills outside of my own created groups. I know I have something that is fairly unique and I know I could put together something great, but not with people coming and leaving so quickly. I've lost all my motivation, and that's new for me. All I've done - since I got out of college - has been to hustle musically, with mixed results. Now I have nothing, and no emotional strength, and noone to buoy me. That's not entirely true - W is helping me try to process through the music stuff, but he's been busy the past few weeks, so we've not been in touch about that stuff, and that in itself is taking its toll on me. He's brilliant at this stuff (and brilliant in general), and he's a good friend, but I also don't want to push him because I know he's having his own issues. He's one of those people who has a lot of internal struggle, but most people don't know or see it, because he makes sure they don't. I admire that.

One thing I will do: take some Advil.

doing it wrong

I didn't do the wrong thing. I didn't show up, because what would I have done and said if I did? My personality profile has already been written, and it doesn't matter much that it doesn't match me, my actions, my intentions, my heart. There's no romantic ending for me. I wish my showing up somewhere could elicit apologies, revelations, righting things, softening eyes. But that's just wishful thinking, so I stayed, as I have for the past YEAR. It's been a year. And I still don't think a day goes by that I don't think of him, and want things to just be...different, and fixed. Not to be with him, but not for it to be like this. But hoping for someone to react against type - isn't that the definition of insanity?

I also didn't do the wrong thing w/V on Thurs, though given the chance, at this point, I probably would have. Or w/D last night, because I just can't do that to HER. V's situation is somewhat different, but he's still very much in a relationship he doesn't intend to quit. So I put up the pictures I took (on Facebook), and he untagged himself. And these are the areas where I think and think and agonize and then decide it will be ok...and then it apparently isn't. I always have to wonder if my show-off-y side is making bad decisions, and whereas I know people who are confessional to the point of pathology and creepiness, and I do not post anything emotional or personal there. For whatever reason, he didn't want himself seen in those photos (update: he said he didn't untag them, and to tag away - hmmm). Because they were taken in his home, and taken by me? I don't know, because he didn't say anything. He didn't ask me to take them down, but he did untag himself. Now I feel like shit. His friendship is very important to me, and at 20 years in, not something I wish to destroy with some damn photos. But clearly I don't know how to navigate through these things. I wish to think of myself of tech-savvy and possessing adequate social skills and understanding of social cues, but C destroyed that belief a year ago. Now all I do is doubt, and worry. And because there's noone who is definitively with me, I figure everyone's fair game for a sudden and permanent disappearance.

I'm less and less apt to try to keep contact with someone who disappears, and I'm more reticent to respond when a response is needed. I mean, everything is a potential pitfall, and because I'm still alone, at this age, I can only conclude that I'm here because of mistakes I've made. I'm looking at one right now, where I have no idea how to play it, and so I've just been sitting on a response.

I guess the point is that in all this not-doing-the-wrong-things, I still somehow manage to do things wrong, and still get nothing. How?

held in the arms of the sea

on an island
dry
surrounded by water
mountains and fog in front of me
out of place with a southern accent
like an awkward red headed freckled girl trembling beneath a spotlight
exposed
frightened
fearless
on an island
held in the arms of the sea

Wish I could say who wrote it (I actually do - I'm not being coy - I do like to pimp out my friends), but as usual I don't want his name linked to this blog. But man, I do love southern boys. I told him that, and he wrote this.

I'm sitting here watching Julia Child explain the different types of chickens one cooks with. I always loved her, and she just gets better with (my) age. She's the anti-Rachael Ray. Everything that's good about Julia is bad about Rachael, and vice versa. Julia talks a lot about the anatomy of the...meat she's preparing. That's something you wouldn't find today, where everything's sanitized and cleaned up when it comes to cooking shows, but it's just another day at the office when skanks spit on each other on shows like "Daisy of Love" or whatever. I don't know about you, but I'd rather hear about chicken cartilage than watch some dumbass with creepy enhanced lips and on her third boob job get drunk and start yet another predictable, extension-pulling skank-fight.

Waiting for some friends to come over that I've never met, contemplating the past few days. Wondering what to do now.

followup on date #3

Well, I replied to essentially reiterate what I'd said after date #2 (when he called me as we were literally driving away from each other, to say that he was attracted to me, and he wondered how I felt) - that I wasn't feeling attraction right now, but that I might in the future, or I might not. But that I can't tell after 3 dates. And I'd understand if he didn't want to give it more time. So he said he'd probably rather not be platonic friends, and that if we were to get involved, it'd be kind of a "long distance" relationship anyways, and that's not of interest. We live 38 miles apart. Maybe I'm the weirdo here, but I would NEVER restrict my options to some small geographic area, or just to my town. I'd pretty much move anywhere, even, for the right person. So to consider 38 miles "long distance" seems actually funny to me. To restrict yourself that way means that you must be pretty damn confident that there's someone appropriate for you in a very small geographical area. I'm just not that confident, I guess.

I will say that I'm tired of people telling me that I need to "move to a big city" if I want to find someone, esp since all the people who are saying it...DIDN'T MEET THEIR PARTNERS IN A BIG CITY. Never mind that I know single people in Manhattan and LA who can't find someone. I can't imagine it being worth my while to move to some place like Manhattan, and live in the squalor that would be my life in such an expensive place, probably with multiple roommates, or even worse, I would have to live in Hoboken or something because even the most horrible Manhattan locations wouldn't be affordable. Not that there's anything wrong with Hoboken, but living in a city as large as Manhattan - single or not - isn't that reasonable for a lot of people, esp if you wish to live in a manner that's somewhat above that of a college student. And I do.

Ditto to "why don't you try the personals?" I know it seems like a fucking panacea to all you coupled people, but it's not. It's horrible and soul-crushing (unless you're looking for a booty call, in which case it's probably damn effective). And yes, we've all tried it already, so please don't think you're offering some novel lightbulb of a suggestion. And for the 1-2 people you know who found the love of their life on the Yahoo personals, there are dozens or hundreds more who had bad experiences, or at best, lukewarm ones. So shut up. Love, -me

pix and phones and swimming

Aforementioned old friend DID call me, last night. I think we talked for hours. I've also discovered that my phone's inbox only seems to hold about 30 texts, because I've been furiously deleting things from him. In any case, may see him this coming week before he leaves again. Such a sweet guy.

And without provocation, aforementioned skinny guy, just home from a world cruise, sent me some more pics. Wow, if I had that thing attached to me, I would never leave my bed! He may be in NYC next month (he's on sabbatical out west), so...we may meet up.

I guess these are the "freedoms" that being single afford. I'd still prefer a relationship, but something is better than nothing.

I finally got myself in the pool the other day, after a lot of mental and physical prep. Though swimming is something I love almost more than anything else, it's become more anxiety-provoking in recent years, in that there's so much prep required just to get there - a decent suit that I don't feel horrified in (ok, that one's not possible right now), new goggles that keep water out, a cap that actually fits over my hair, putting in contacts, the bikini wax is essential...and then they want you to take a shower before you get into the pool? I get that it's some sort of cleanliness state law, but it's a pain in the ass. Once I'm in the water, I feel completely at home. And if I can keep timing it so that I go at less populated times, I might be able to get myself there consistently. Let's see what today's schedule says...