I'm down five pounds. Small cheer.
Lots to do and I'm a bit stressed.
Had to do a family dinner tonight, organized last minute by my mother since the aunts and uncles hadn't met my brother's new wife yet. (My brother was studying abroad, I hardly know her myself.)
There was some drama since I assumed it wasn't happening and started to make other plans....
We all went to a pizza place since our house is too messy to host a party. I felt overwhelmed when we walked in late to a table of a dozen relatives. I get shy. No matter, everyone wanted to hold the baby, not talk to me.
I might as well not exist at a family dinner, since I am not married or producing children nor am I likely to any time soon. Not that my relatives ever really knew what to say to me anyways. I have some jealousy of the baby. Not really, but a sort of a joke jealousy I can look at and laugh at, and probably is a little bit real jealousy in there somewhere. I mean, there's already been some art things I've been involved in that my family hasn't come to because it was overshadowed by something baby-related.
This is exaggerated. Even I can see that. Still, these things cross my mind.
My nine year old cousin tried to hit me up to buy her something at the corner store and when I declined she said 'Don't you get an allowance?'
Afterwards the relatives came back to the too-messy house for tea and cookies. My dog is obsessed with the baby and just goes nuts...He's got to be kept on leash, or in his cage. In fact, I spent the first 15 minutes sitting in his cage with him, petting him, and trying to keep him quiet so the people in the other room can visit. I took my dog out for a short walk as well. I spent the rest of the evening holding on to his leash and trying to keep him quiet and wishing all the people would leave since I was having no fun and I wanted to watch my movie. The image of me and the dog sitting in a cage while everyone else visits in another room pretty much sums up my role in family gatherings.
I've got 'I Know Where I'm Going' out from the library. 1945, Powell and Pressburger film about a young woman marrying for money who gets stranded on a Scottish Isle by bad weather and finds true love. So very obsessed with it. Only one kiss, but it's a good one. Her handsome naval officer is played by Roger Livesey, who seems to be spoken of as a truly nice fellow who was happily married to one woman his whole life. He's not all that handsome, but I quite like him, and I like all the Scottish folklore and dancing.
Saturday, 9 July 2011
Thursday, 7 July 2011
Self-Help and Transformations
At 6 o'clock I was planning to post something really positive....At 10 it's turned a little more cynical.
I had a good day today. I've almost stopped coughing, for one thing, I finished my sewing yay! and I got to go make some art at a camp for sick kids, which was pretty fun.
It was a long drive out and I had a chance to chat with this woman I just started working with, Amy.
She has a lovely manner, and greets everyone with real warmth. I am already watching her to see if I can mimic even a small percentage of that energy.
On the drive out we talked about life in the arts. On the way back, we talked about more personal things...I talked a bit about my family...did I say too much? Ack. She's quite open about her life and told me about a few hard times she's been through, in a rather matter-of-fact way. As positive and friendly a person as she appears, she said she suspected she is currently mildly depressed. Huh.
She spoke about a 'personal growth course' she took that led her to creating a community project.
I showed her a book I was reading, 'Community' by Peter Block. I'm only on Chapter Two, but I'm really excited that I found something I'm passionate about (building community, although my definition is still a bit hazy.) Amy looked at the book jacket and noticed one of the endorsements was from Landmark Education. "That's the course I took!" I said I'd look it up. She said, "Yeah, just be prepared that some people call it a cult." She explained that she resisted taking the course for years even though a friend recommended it, because she didn't approve of the marketing and style of delivery, but that she had a positive experience from it and so did everyone else she knew who had taken it.
So I went home and looked it up, and yeah some people really hate it. You spend three long days in a room with 150 people sharing your life problems and getting questioned until you have a breakthrough and realize it was all your fault. Then your homework is to call someone and apologize, and to invite your friends to come to next week's session.
There are a series of articles by journalists who take the course, are skeptical, have some small epiphanies but remain critical of some of the methods used.
I just spent an hour reading about this stuff.
People love the idea of transformations. If I thought a three day course was a magic bullet, I'd probably sign up in a heartbeat.
The basic lessons of the Landmark forum seem to be the same as most self-help stuff- think positively, live in the moment not the past, get over fear, practice forgiveness and self-reflection. Amy said there's a lot of Buddhism in the mix, and maybe some philosophy and pyschology.
I don't think I'll take the class. It has got me thinking about the phonecalls I would assigned for homework- the broken relationships in my life. My dad. A few friends, one in particular. Maybe my sister.
Can they be repaired, or is there a reason those people aren't key to my life?
And the most tantalizing possibility of a complete transformation simply by declaring it to be so and living in a new way. (Landmark teaches that modifying behavior from the past in a long slow process of change doesn't work. I think I disagree. Apparently some people who take the course get very caught up in feelings of euphoria and then crash and burn later.)
Now the 'Community' book is tainted by this endorsement from the Landmark guy, and by the fact that the author draws slightly on the teachings of Werner Erhard (his est workshops are the foundation of the Landmark teachings, and he's a controversial figure).
Sigh.
I had a good day today. I've almost stopped coughing, for one thing, I finished my sewing yay! and I got to go make some art at a camp for sick kids, which was pretty fun.
It was a long drive out and I had a chance to chat with this woman I just started working with, Amy.
She has a lovely manner, and greets everyone with real warmth. I am already watching her to see if I can mimic even a small percentage of that energy.
On the drive out we talked about life in the arts. On the way back, we talked about more personal things...I talked a bit about my family...did I say too much? Ack. She's quite open about her life and told me about a few hard times she's been through, in a rather matter-of-fact way. As positive and friendly a person as she appears, she said she suspected she is currently mildly depressed. Huh.
She spoke about a 'personal growth course' she took that led her to creating a community project.
I showed her a book I was reading, 'Community' by Peter Block. I'm only on Chapter Two, but I'm really excited that I found something I'm passionate about (building community, although my definition is still a bit hazy.) Amy looked at the book jacket and noticed one of the endorsements was from Landmark Education. "That's the course I took!" I said I'd look it up. She said, "Yeah, just be prepared that some people call it a cult." She explained that she resisted taking the course for years even though a friend recommended it, because she didn't approve of the marketing and style of delivery, but that she had a positive experience from it and so did everyone else she knew who had taken it.
So I went home and looked it up, and yeah some people really hate it. You spend three long days in a room with 150 people sharing your life problems and getting questioned until you have a breakthrough and realize it was all your fault. Then your homework is to call someone and apologize, and to invite your friends to come to next week's session.
There are a series of articles by journalists who take the course, are skeptical, have some small epiphanies but remain critical of some of the methods used.
I just spent an hour reading about this stuff.
People love the idea of transformations. If I thought a three day course was a magic bullet, I'd probably sign up in a heartbeat.
The basic lessons of the Landmark forum seem to be the same as most self-help stuff- think positively, live in the moment not the past, get over fear, practice forgiveness and self-reflection. Amy said there's a lot of Buddhism in the mix, and maybe some philosophy and pyschology.
I don't think I'll take the class. It has got me thinking about the phonecalls I would assigned for homework- the broken relationships in my life. My dad. A few friends, one in particular. Maybe my sister.
Can they be repaired, or is there a reason those people aren't key to my life?
And the most tantalizing possibility of a complete transformation simply by declaring it to be so and living in a new way. (Landmark teaches that modifying behavior from the past in a long slow process of change doesn't work. I think I disagree. Apparently some people who take the course get very caught up in feelings of euphoria and then crash and burn later.)
Now the 'Community' book is tainted by this endorsement from the Landmark guy, and by the fact that the author draws slightly on the teachings of Werner Erhard (his est workshops are the foundation of the Landmark teachings, and he's a controversial figure).
Sigh.
Wednesday, 6 July 2011
Un-touched
Since I have been sick for a week, I have been feeling a bit shunned by all. Sick people are germy and should be avoided.
(I am much better, but still coughing dramatically.)
I'm so tired. I've been go-go-go all summer, doing a bunch of smaller gigs. Today I am feeling that I am perhaps getting ripped off or giving more than I should. I'm an artist, and if I get more than $20 bucks an hour I get excited, but that's really peanuts, considering I've been a working artist for 8 years (theoretically.)
I'm trying to work with this arts organization that has a noble mandate, but is really hard to work for. Several people I know have been burned. Had a long chat with someone who was telling me to protect myself and maybe even to back out of some teaching gigs I said I'd do for them....
Anyways, that's not the topic of this blog, but trying to make a living as an artist is tough. Probably plays a big part in why other things aren't happening in my life as well. So there, completely relevant.
But back to the point. Touch.
I heard a few weeks ago, someone dropped an interesting little factoid into conversation: ideally you should be touched 30 times a day. Of course I have no source to back this up. Also I'm assuming she meant touched in a welcome, positive manner, not being groped or punched or anything. (Yes, quality of writing in this blog is held to high standards at eleven o'clock at night.) And not necessarily touched in a sexual way- but a handshake, a high fives, a pat on the back, a hug. There are lots of people out there not making any kind of physical contact with other people for long stretches of time. It's pretty sad.
Needless to say, this has been a particularly barren week for me. *Cough Cough Sneeze*
When I'm walking by myself, sometimes my hand folds around an imaginary boyfriend's hand.
When I'm watching a movie, I wish I had my head on someone's shoulder.
I want more than anything to try 'spooning.'
It's a weird frustrating feeling. Who knew a hand could crave another hand so desperately? There's not really a substitute for the touch of another person.
(Although having a pet around is supposed to help I believe.)
No wonder they had to invent these:
http://www.popsci.com/technology/article/2011-06/video-japanese-sense-roid-robot-torso-hugs-you-back
PS: After watching the video, those are weirder than I thought they were going to be!
(I am much better, but still coughing dramatically.)
I'm so tired. I've been go-go-go all summer, doing a bunch of smaller gigs. Today I am feeling that I am perhaps getting ripped off or giving more than I should. I'm an artist, and if I get more than $20 bucks an hour I get excited, but that's really peanuts, considering I've been a working artist for 8 years (theoretically.)
I'm trying to work with this arts organization that has a noble mandate, but is really hard to work for. Several people I know have been burned. Had a long chat with someone who was telling me to protect myself and maybe even to back out of some teaching gigs I said I'd do for them....
Anyways, that's not the topic of this blog, but trying to make a living as an artist is tough. Probably plays a big part in why other things aren't happening in my life as well. So there, completely relevant.
But back to the point. Touch.
I heard a few weeks ago, someone dropped an interesting little factoid into conversation: ideally you should be touched 30 times a day. Of course I have no source to back this up. Also I'm assuming she meant touched in a welcome, positive manner, not being groped or punched or anything. (Yes, quality of writing in this blog is held to high standards at eleven o'clock at night.) And not necessarily touched in a sexual way- but a handshake, a high fives, a pat on the back, a hug. There are lots of people out there not making any kind of physical contact with other people for long stretches of time. It's pretty sad.
Needless to say, this has been a particularly barren week for me. *Cough Cough Sneeze*
When I'm walking by myself, sometimes my hand folds around an imaginary boyfriend's hand.
When I'm watching a movie, I wish I had my head on someone's shoulder.
I want more than anything to try 'spooning.'
It's a weird frustrating feeling. Who knew a hand could crave another hand so desperately? There's not really a substitute for the touch of another person.
(Although having a pet around is supposed to help I believe.)
No wonder they had to invent these:
http://www.popsci.com/technology/article/2011-06/video-japanese-sense-roid-robot-torso-hugs-you-back
PS: After watching the video, those are weirder than I thought they were going to be!
Monday, 4 July 2011
Living With Mom
I've got bronchitis or something and am miserable. I haven't left the house in three days which usually makes me broody (Is that the right word? I just looked it up- it means oppressive, contemplative, and wanting to hatch eggs or have a baby. I'm leaving it.)
I'm also doing a lot of sewing and I have a deadline, so that's not helping, as it is repetitive, labour intensive and frustrating.
My brother came over tonight and the conversation touched on a lot of 'issues' in my life. I think throughout the visit I was at times negative or withdrawn. I could probably write two or three posts about the topic of 'negativity'.... It's one of those vicious cycle thingies: feel down, say negative things, damage relationships, feel worse....I just want a hug and a good cry and I've got nobody to talk to except whoever is reading this anonymous online blog.
Alright, that's enough of a lead-up.
Since my brother and his girlfriend are expecting, there was naturally discussion about babies. He said they were planning to have another one at some point. (It is totally weird to see my brother all domestic, and wearing nice office clothes too. Gah, everyone gets so boring.) My mother said he could have more, since I wasn't going to have any. Then she told the story she always tells about David Suzuki (Canadian environmentalist) being criticized for having 5 children when the earth is overpopulated, and his reply being that smart people better have children because stupid people sure as hell are going to.
Later, my mother said if she won the lottery, she and I could move to a certain neighbourhood we like. I rather hope I won't be living with her beyond next year, lottery or no lottery. Maybe some of my siblings and their progeny would take up the offer.
I should also explain that, at the moment at least, I am very worried about the environment and consumerism and want to give up all my worldly possessions except for my computer, books and art supplies (so in essence, nothing.) I think winning the lottery is gross.
Anyways, 'stuff' seemed to be the theme of the evening. I think we started talking about my sister's cats, which is a whole 'nother rant, and about all the stuff in the basement. Mom and I share a 2000 square foot house and use about half of it, now that my sister's moved out. We never really moved in, still have boxes and boxes. My mom is perhaps a borderline hoarder...she's said things like 'organization is just an excuse to sell you rubbermaid totes and baskets' and 'if I want to keep stuff in a box and look at it every five years, well that's up to me.' She's also taken the complete opposite viewpoint and calculated how much of the value of the house is being used to store junk.
I don't know if she was always this way, but for the past ten years, it's been an issue we tiptoe around. I'm always accused of throwing out her stuff when she's not around. I actually rarely rarely do that- it's always been a house rule that you don't touch other people's stuff. But just from the way she talks about my role to her friends, it's almost like she wants me to get rid of stuff for her because she knows she can't.
I once tried to give away an old Fisher Price airport playset and she would't let me. I got angry and said she could find a place to keep it and left it in the hallway. (I should explain it was a large object and we had decided to keep the matching house, farm and garage playsets. At that time there were no young children in the family) That airport toy stayed in the hallway for a year and a half.
It's very stressful to me to try and organize things so that I can live my life, and so we won't get drowned, and guessing how much change she can handle. We've lived in this house four years and she hasn't painted anything, changed the curtains, bought new furniture, even hung a single painting to make it her own. She's done this for years. It took her five years to buy a new couch.
My dad and my mom divorced a few years ago. My dad just up and left one Saturday. I was at work and my sister was away camping. (My brother was studying abroad.) I came home and had to deal with my mom by myself. On Sunday I left her alone for a while and she told me she had blacked out. My sister and I had to take shifts for two weeks keeping an eye on her. My dad had been planning it for a while. I think he had a girlfriend, actually. I didn't speak to him for a year. My mom went to counselling. I remember she came home just furious one day because the therapist had told her she was making herself a victim. Mom did have enough energy to get a lawyer and fight for Dad's money, which I supported. Eventually she quit her horrible horrible job that we'd all been telling her to quit for years and for several years she just did nothing. She joined some clubs, dated a bunch of men that all seemed to be named David, and bought a new house. That seemed to take up all of her energy. All the junk from the old house got moved with us.
Now she's gone back to school, and is almost done a second bachelors degree. (She's in sciences, and needed to update.) She's thinking about doing a masters. She's still dawdling, although I know she works hard in school and as hard as it is to believe, is organized and efficient. Apparently that's how she was at work too. It's just household stuff she has no interest in. She has an active social life, but when she's not doing those things, she just gets so passive. She spends a lot of time reading murder mysteries (always set in medieval times, who knew there were so many), doing crosswords, and playing computer solitaire on the easiest settings. She spoils my dog, and doesn't see how fat he's getting. She's on delayed reaction to emergencies...
There's so much work to be done in the house that I'm overwhelmed. She found a leak under the kitchen sink and didn't even tell me for days. It turned out to be the dishwasher, and it still hasn't been fixed.
I worry about her. She's lost so much weight. Sometimes she eats nothing but crackers and cheese. To the outside world, I think she seems a lot more put together....
I feel like my brother and sister are both starting new families and have their own problems, and I'll be left looking after mom. All the stuff in the house seems to be symbolic- my dad, brother and sister all started new lives and dumped a pile of crap (and two cats) in mom's basement. My mother has never lived alone her whole life....How will she do on her own? And who's going to keep the dog? I just want to get the house in order so I can leave with a clear conscience.
I've probaby made myself out to be this dutiful daughter, but I'm always leaning on Mom for help. I clean, but I don't usually grocery shop, and seldom cook. I don't pay rent and lately I've been using her car more than she does. I've been so sick lately, and able to do less and less....
Argh.
I'm also doing a lot of sewing and I have a deadline, so that's not helping, as it is repetitive, labour intensive and frustrating.
My brother came over tonight and the conversation touched on a lot of 'issues' in my life. I think throughout the visit I was at times negative or withdrawn. I could probably write two or three posts about the topic of 'negativity'.... It's one of those vicious cycle thingies: feel down, say negative things, damage relationships, feel worse....I just want a hug and a good cry and I've got nobody to talk to except whoever is reading this anonymous online blog.
Alright, that's enough of a lead-up.
Since my brother and his girlfriend are expecting, there was naturally discussion about babies. He said they were planning to have another one at some point. (It is totally weird to see my brother all domestic, and wearing nice office clothes too. Gah, everyone gets so boring.) My mother said he could have more, since I wasn't going to have any. Then she told the story she always tells about David Suzuki (Canadian environmentalist) being criticized for having 5 children when the earth is overpopulated, and his reply being that smart people better have children because stupid people sure as hell are going to.
Later, my mother said if she won the lottery, she and I could move to a certain neighbourhood we like. I rather hope I won't be living with her beyond next year, lottery or no lottery. Maybe some of my siblings and their progeny would take up the offer.
I should also explain that, at the moment at least, I am very worried about the environment and consumerism and want to give up all my worldly possessions except for my computer, books and art supplies (so in essence, nothing.) I think winning the lottery is gross.
Anyways, 'stuff' seemed to be the theme of the evening. I think we started talking about my sister's cats, which is a whole 'nother rant, and about all the stuff in the basement. Mom and I share a 2000 square foot house and use about half of it, now that my sister's moved out. We never really moved in, still have boxes and boxes. My mom is perhaps a borderline hoarder...she's said things like 'organization is just an excuse to sell you rubbermaid totes and baskets' and 'if I want to keep stuff in a box and look at it every five years, well that's up to me.' She's also taken the complete opposite viewpoint and calculated how much of the value of the house is being used to store junk.
I don't know if she was always this way, but for the past ten years, it's been an issue we tiptoe around. I'm always accused of throwing out her stuff when she's not around. I actually rarely rarely do that- it's always been a house rule that you don't touch other people's stuff. But just from the way she talks about my role to her friends, it's almost like she wants me to get rid of stuff for her because she knows she can't.
I once tried to give away an old Fisher Price airport playset and she would't let me. I got angry and said she could find a place to keep it and left it in the hallway. (I should explain it was a large object and we had decided to keep the matching house, farm and garage playsets. At that time there were no young children in the family) That airport toy stayed in the hallway for a year and a half.
It's very stressful to me to try and organize things so that I can live my life, and so we won't get drowned, and guessing how much change she can handle. We've lived in this house four years and she hasn't painted anything, changed the curtains, bought new furniture, even hung a single painting to make it her own. She's done this for years. It took her five years to buy a new couch.
My dad and my mom divorced a few years ago. My dad just up and left one Saturday. I was at work and my sister was away camping. (My brother was studying abroad.) I came home and had to deal with my mom by myself. On Sunday I left her alone for a while and she told me she had blacked out. My sister and I had to take shifts for two weeks keeping an eye on her. My dad had been planning it for a while. I think he had a girlfriend, actually. I didn't speak to him for a year. My mom went to counselling. I remember she came home just furious one day because the therapist had told her she was making herself a victim. Mom did have enough energy to get a lawyer and fight for Dad's money, which I supported. Eventually she quit her horrible horrible job that we'd all been telling her to quit for years and for several years she just did nothing. She joined some clubs, dated a bunch of men that all seemed to be named David, and bought a new house. That seemed to take up all of her energy. All the junk from the old house got moved with us.
Now she's gone back to school, and is almost done a second bachelors degree. (She's in sciences, and needed to update.) She's thinking about doing a masters. She's still dawdling, although I know she works hard in school and as hard as it is to believe, is organized and efficient. Apparently that's how she was at work too. It's just household stuff she has no interest in. She has an active social life, but when she's not doing those things, she just gets so passive. She spends a lot of time reading murder mysteries (always set in medieval times, who knew there were so many), doing crosswords, and playing computer solitaire on the easiest settings. She spoils my dog, and doesn't see how fat he's getting. She's on delayed reaction to emergencies...
There's so much work to be done in the house that I'm overwhelmed. She found a leak under the kitchen sink and didn't even tell me for days. It turned out to be the dishwasher, and it still hasn't been fixed.
I worry about her. She's lost so much weight. Sometimes she eats nothing but crackers and cheese. To the outside world, I think she seems a lot more put together....
I feel like my brother and sister are both starting new families and have their own problems, and I'll be left looking after mom. All the stuff in the house seems to be symbolic- my dad, brother and sister all started new lives and dumped a pile of crap (and two cats) in mom's basement. My mother has never lived alone her whole life....How will she do on her own? And who's going to keep the dog? I just want to get the house in order so I can leave with a clear conscience.
I've probaby made myself out to be this dutiful daughter, but I'm always leaning on Mom for help. I clean, but I don't usually grocery shop, and seldom cook. I don't pay rent and lately I've been using her car more than she does. I've been so sick lately, and able to do less and less....
Argh.
Sunday, 3 July 2011
Girl Without a Past
So here, in a nutshell, is my romantic history thus far.
(My face feels flushed just thinking about it.)
I crushed on maybe a dozen boys in high school but I thought if you liked someone you should dream about them all the time and never ever tell them. You didn't even have to talk to them. You just admired from afar. (Although in grade eight I did manage to finagle my way into sharing a locker with my crush.)
I don't know if I wasn't ready to date but romance stayed in the realm of fantasy for me and I didn't seem worried about it.
After high school I went straight to art school and it was such a different world for me that for four years I was caught up in this creative whirlwhind and all other areas of my life were ignored. I didn't even think about romance, didn't 'like' anybody until the summer before fourth year. I had a summer job and a guy I had liked in high school took the same bus as me in the mornings. We went to lunch once and I didn't have any money. We hung out a little bit, went to a special film screening and he met all my art school friends. I expressed some disapproval at someone smoking pot before the show and he was surprised. After that I think I phoned him twice and he didn't return my call.
Then there was another long spell where I was busy trying to get started as an artist and I really had other things on my mind. At that point being single was how I was used to existing.
When I was twenty-five I started to freak out a bit. It's going to take another post or two to explain all the drama that was going on at that time, but the short version is that I quit everything that I was doing and took a crappy retail job while I figured stuff out.
A guy at work starting joking around with me and I found myself keeping an eye out for him. He asked me if I'd seen this obscure movie, which wasn't one I thought I'd like, but I agreed to go to his house and watch it with him and his friends....then later it turned out that wasn't the plan at all and we went to dinner. He just seemed to think I was great and I felt so good, one of the best feelings of my life. "I like you" were maybe not the three little words most people dream of hearing but I was over the moon. I was skitttish though, and at the end of the date I hugged him and skidaddled. Later I felt bad and invited him to this art opening I was involved in. The more he talked, the more doubt I felt. He smoked, he was nine years older than me, he was reading some book about aliens building the pyramids...On the way home he was like 'let's run away together' and I was like 'this is my stop, goodnight.' There was a few months of joking around at work, a few phone calls and emails but he really backed off. I don't know why I kept pursuing it. I guess I just wanted to feel that way again. Later I was insistent that we should be friends. (I worked there for a year and a bit.) I should explain more. This is embarassing to recall.
He....sometimes cross-dressed. At first I was shocked, but everyone at work was used to it and I accepted it. But facebook has been the means of many an undoing, and he kept posting stupid conspiracy theories and I would argue them with him. He's a loser, basically, in so many ways, but I could also see a lot of good qualities in him. His story makes me sad. He's a smart guy who has this urge to express himself in a way that wasn't socially acceptable and was stuck in this really stupid job that was a waste of his talents. Anyways, I learned a lot, painful as the experience was. I'm grateful to him in many ways.
Since then, I have tried internet dating briefly. On a dare from a friend, I signed up for Plenty of Fish. I met two people, one I didn't like and one I did who said he'd phone me and didn't. I'm sure everybody's got weird online dating stories. I was surprised that people who seemed so clearly wrong for me were messaging me. I guess some men have a strategy of asking everyone, cause somebody's going to say yes eventually. When a friend of mine died, I cancelled the account.
I worry that I haven't 'liked' anyone for years, that I never see anyone I'm even remotely interested in. I play this game on the bus- if you had to date someone on this vehicle, who would you pick? I've discovered mostly females ride the bus in my city.
(My face feels flushed just thinking about it.)
I crushed on maybe a dozen boys in high school but I thought if you liked someone you should dream about them all the time and never ever tell them. You didn't even have to talk to them. You just admired from afar. (Although in grade eight I did manage to finagle my way into sharing a locker with my crush.)
I don't know if I wasn't ready to date but romance stayed in the realm of fantasy for me and I didn't seem worried about it.
After high school I went straight to art school and it was such a different world for me that for four years I was caught up in this creative whirlwhind and all other areas of my life were ignored. I didn't even think about romance, didn't 'like' anybody until the summer before fourth year. I had a summer job and a guy I had liked in high school took the same bus as me in the mornings. We went to lunch once and I didn't have any money. We hung out a little bit, went to a special film screening and he met all my art school friends. I expressed some disapproval at someone smoking pot before the show and he was surprised. After that I think I phoned him twice and he didn't return my call.
Then there was another long spell where I was busy trying to get started as an artist and I really had other things on my mind. At that point being single was how I was used to existing.
When I was twenty-five I started to freak out a bit. It's going to take another post or two to explain all the drama that was going on at that time, but the short version is that I quit everything that I was doing and took a crappy retail job while I figured stuff out.
A guy at work starting joking around with me and I found myself keeping an eye out for him. He asked me if I'd seen this obscure movie, which wasn't one I thought I'd like, but I agreed to go to his house and watch it with him and his friends....then later it turned out that wasn't the plan at all and we went to dinner. He just seemed to think I was great and I felt so good, one of the best feelings of my life. "I like you" were maybe not the three little words most people dream of hearing but I was over the moon. I was skitttish though, and at the end of the date I hugged him and skidaddled. Later I felt bad and invited him to this art opening I was involved in. The more he talked, the more doubt I felt. He smoked, he was nine years older than me, he was reading some book about aliens building the pyramids...On the way home he was like 'let's run away together' and I was like 'this is my stop, goodnight.' There was a few months of joking around at work, a few phone calls and emails but he really backed off. I don't know why I kept pursuing it. I guess I just wanted to feel that way again. Later I was insistent that we should be friends. (I worked there for a year and a bit.) I should explain more. This is embarassing to recall.
He....sometimes cross-dressed. At first I was shocked, but everyone at work was used to it and I accepted it. But facebook has been the means of many an undoing, and he kept posting stupid conspiracy theories and I would argue them with him. He's a loser, basically, in so many ways, but I could also see a lot of good qualities in him. His story makes me sad. He's a smart guy who has this urge to express himself in a way that wasn't socially acceptable and was stuck in this really stupid job that was a waste of his talents. Anyways, I learned a lot, painful as the experience was. I'm grateful to him in many ways.
Since then, I have tried internet dating briefly. On a dare from a friend, I signed up for Plenty of Fish. I met two people, one I didn't like and one I did who said he'd phone me and didn't. I'm sure everybody's got weird online dating stories. I was surprised that people who seemed so clearly wrong for me were messaging me. I guess some men have a strategy of asking everyone, cause somebody's going to say yes eventually. When a friend of mine died, I cancelled the account.
I worry that I haven't 'liked' anyone for years, that I never see anyone I'm even remotely interested in. I play this game on the bus- if you had to date someone on this vehicle, who would you pick? I've discovered mostly females ride the bus in my city.
Saturday, 2 July 2011
I'm sure it's a perfectly healthy obsession
Everybody seemed to really enjoy 'The Big Bang Theory' when it first came out so I tried watching it. I had forgotten how stylized sitcoms are; I couldn't stand the laugh track. It just didn't seem that funny to me.
A few weeks ago I was hanging out with my sister and her baby. She watches tv all day long. We watched the episode where Leonard asks Penny out, Sheldon tells them about Schroedinger's cat, and Leonard kisses Penny before they leave on their date.
I am hooked.
I went home and tried to find more episodes online, but living in Canada, CBS blocked them for my region.
I resorted to watching Youtube clips. I watched all the kissing scenes. I watched the Schroedinger's cat kiss over and over. It makes my stomach flip-flop.
Um yes. All perfectly healthy behavior I'm sure.
A few weeks ago I was hanging out with my sister and her baby. She watches tv all day long. We watched the episode where Leonard asks Penny out, Sheldon tells them about Schroedinger's cat, and Leonard kisses Penny before they leave on their date.
I am hooked.
I went home and tried to find more episodes online, but living in Canada, CBS blocked them for my region.
I resorted to watching Youtube clips. I watched all the kissing scenes. I watched the Schroedinger's cat kiss over and over. It makes my stomach flip-flop.
Um yes. All perfectly healthy behavior I'm sure.
Friday, 1 July 2011
Siblings
I'm the oldest of three; I have a sister and a brother. My sister is married and has a seven week old baby boy. My brother got his girlfriend pregnant and she is due in a month. They said they weren't going to get married and three weeks ago they snuck off and had a civil ceremony. (Family was not invited.) I was more surprised than anything.
My father also remarried a year and a half ago. That means family dinners are comprised of three sets of newlyweds and me. Newlyweds are always touching each other.
When my brother announced their pregnancy, my grandmother went a little bit into grandma-overdrive and actually opened a telephone conversation with 'Are there any more little secrets I should know?' Yes, Grandma, my siblings are both reproducing so I decided to join the party and got myself knocked up.
I don't know what's worse- when my family talks about me being pregnant one day, or how until baby fever set in, there was a conspicous silence on the topic of my love life, or even the possibility of such.
My family speaks affectionately of me as sort of an adult-child who will require supervision for the rest of my life. It does wonders for my self-image.
My father also remarried a year and a half ago. That means family dinners are comprised of three sets of newlyweds and me. Newlyweds are always touching each other.
When my brother announced their pregnancy, my grandmother went a little bit into grandma-overdrive and actually opened a telephone conversation with 'Are there any more little secrets I should know?' Yes, Grandma, my siblings are both reproducing so I decided to join the party and got myself knocked up.
I don't know what's worse- when my family talks about me being pregnant one day, or how until baby fever set in, there was a conspicous silence on the topic of my love life, or even the possibility of such.
My family speaks affectionately of me as sort of an adult-child who will require supervision for the rest of my life. It does wonders for my self-image.
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