The Waiting Game

I have a lot of love in my heart.

I guess failed relationships are life lessons to make us stronger. I know. I have been heartbroken so many times. People just don't always want to try, and it's also hard for both parties to grow at the same pace. Some people have poor examples of healthy relationships and don't know how to treat someone. Some think that relationships are temporary and disposable. Sometimes paths split and there is nothing that can be done. It's really about courage...some have it, most do not. Are you brave enough to trust and love, or are you too afraid to be vulnerable? These are questions I always wonder about and can see clear answers in past relationships of those too afraid to move forward. I get burned a lot because I am brave and keep trying. Quitting is rarely an option for me. But many of my exes were too afraid to trust, or too damaged to try. Nothing I can do about that. 

One of the greatest lessons that keeps surfacing is that I cannot be responsible for someone else and what they do/want. It's terribly hard. I hate it when someone I love walks away. 

But like a moth to the flame...I keep trying. 

My next love wears a dark mask. He will reveal himself at some point. Don't know when...but to abandon hope now leaves me with bad feelings, so I'm sticking with the hope.

How dull life would be without love!

A Story About Anxiety, Failure, and What Happens Next.

When I was an undergraduate, I had a banquet serving gig at a fancy restaurant. Two of my female co-workers and I decided it would be a great idea to open a business together and escape the restaurant industry. We plotted and planned over scotch on the rocks at our favorite after work dive bar for several months and opened up a tea house inside of my dad's gallery space on a shoestring budget. We all threw $500 in the pot as startup.

Everything was shiny and exciting until a few months in, when customers dwindled and our profits were absorbed into inventory expenses. Staffing the store hours also proved difficult, as we couldn't part our day jobs (and I was also still in school). Then, one of the partner's sisters died of anorexia, and she cut out of the agreement. 

Then there were two.

Another few months crept by, and I ended up absorbing much of the hours due to the family obligations of the other business partner. She had two twin boys and a jealous girlfriend who was unreliable with watching them. My business partner began nitpicking my father for the way he had his gallery displayed and ideas about how she thought the place should look to encourage our customers to stay. I tried supplementing our sales with live music nights and tea "salon" discussions, and "stitch n bitch" knitting nights, but in the end, I just couldn't run all of the hours myself. She bailed.

I was the last woman standing in the tea house.

It was really the end when I had a panic attack in my apartment over ants. Yes, ants. They were the thing I couldn't control. I couldn't get rid of them, there were so many of them, they were everywhere in my bathroom (okay, it was a trail of ants from behind the refrigerator in the kitchen... but I BELIEVED they were everywhere. It was very Salvador Dali-esque. I crawled into my bathtub and called my friend to come save me from the terrible insects. It was ridiculous, and terrifying, and completely irrational. I sobbed and shook in terror. I was completely overcome with grief and emotion.

Ants, it comes to be, are a big, enormous symbol in my life. A symbol of a problem that has taken over, of more than I can handle. Something overwhelming and frustrating and invasive, something that potentially has more survival instinct than I do in this crazy world (or so it seems, sometimes). In this moment of a complete meltdown, I am their host. I succumb to their marching, surrendering my apartment and all that lies outside my doors to their sticky little legs and clenching mandibles. I had to be coaxed out of the bathtub by the good friend. Therapy ensued. It would seem I had temporarily lost my mind, but really... I had lost control in my life at that point. I lost control over what I wanted to do and be. What was I doing? Whose life was I living? I was overly taxed, and something had to give. I could not sustain the amount of pressure that was weighing me down. I was drowning in commitments and expectations, in things I didn't even want for myself. 

My terror of ants was the fear of failure that filled my body with sand, the fear of my family's expectations and the fear of having to say to them that I had fought, but I had lost. My dad told me something that shocked me after that, and it brought all of that nonsense to rubble: he loved me for trying. He loved me whether I had a stupid tea house or not, so long as I was happy. My mother loved me, too, and they really didn't care about the teahouse. They took it over and converted it into a coffee house, and now my grandma runs it as a hobby.

My happiness was (and is) all my parents wanted for me. It really is that simple. 

Suddenly, life had clarity. 

I was free.

Meet Alice Pooper!

I got a bunny. Meet "Alice Pooper!"

I smuggled her to practice one Saturday so that she would go undetected by the property manager who was planning a visit! A camera bag fit her nicely. She went to stay with a friend who also has a bunny, but hers is much larger. Alice started "humping" her fixed male rabbit, much to both of our surprise! Further investigation revealed:

ALICE POOPER IS A BOY!!! 

No wonder he liked the ladies so much at Fresh Meat practice! Hahahaha

(the end)

Should I get a pet rabbit?

In the midst of my latest breakup crisis that remains slightly undefined even though it is painfully obvious that we have irreconcilable differences regarding our future, I have started to fill my days and nights with distractions. I hate coming home to an empty apartment. My apartment feels like a prison cell. It's my cinderblock palace with no windows and very little ventilation, and it may as well be a tomb. I started painting a canvas of a giant window, and then ran into the dilemma of realizing how loaded with meaning a window really was... now I can't finish it because I'm caught up trying to figure out what I want to be out there.

I took up running this week and decided that running will be my new boyfriend. I've gone twice. My new boyfriend, "Mr. Runningshoes," thinks I'm fat and out of shape. I agree with him. I had a friend who runs marathons set up a beginner plan for me to work up to longer distances that won't burn me out and make me want to quit in frustration. So far so good! I am sore today from my second run, but if I stick to going every other day, 3x a week, it should be okay. I notice already that I am enjoying the small break after work to listen to music. And I sweat buckets, like no other workout I've had in years. Btw, I HATE running. But it's working. And it's free.

To distract myself from my lonely apartment and lack of socialization, I'm thinking about getting a pet rabbit. Right now, I really dig Checkered Giants, but likely I'll get a rabbit from a rescue organization. I can't justify buying a bunny from a breeder. We shall see. If I get a checker, I'm naming it Heifer. Or Chuck. Maybe.

 I have been researching them online and I'm going to a pet expo tomorrow with a bunny-owning friend of mine. She loves her bunny, and she thinks I'll love one, too. I'm still not quite sure it's what I want because rabbits don't seem very snuggly, but I guess they're more snuggly than fish or a turtle. Plus, they can do tricks if you train them. They have a pretty long life span and can be litter trained, so those are also pluses.

I can't actually have pets in my apartment (shh), but rabbits are super quiet. I don't trust cats to be silent apartment ninjas after past experiences, and a dog is out of the question. God, I miss my dog. Ughhhhhh. I just need a sidekick. Like, bad.

Love, and Other Disasters

“Being deeply loved by someone gives you strength, while loving someone deeply gives you courage.”

― Lao Tzu

If you only love deeply and never get the strength of commitment and security in return, the fallout is ugly. I've been warned, read about it, prepared to avoid it, and yet can't deny it getting the best of me. It's true. I had expectations, despite firmly telling myself I wouldn't. Instead of loving him freely, I was a bird in his cage.

I know him really well. We have been together years now. But before he got on a plane to Cambodia, he told me it was over. No working it out, just done. No huge fight and regrettable backbiting comments, no dramatic throwing of objects and intolerable pet peeves that reached a boiling point. An hour before a big derby bout in a tournament, while I was in another State, he texted that it was over. We had discussed it briefly before I left on the trip... so it wasn't all via text (I don't want anyone to think he was that callused). He wants me to be free to find someone else who can give be a family. He wants me to move on.  After all, I'm 35 and my shriveling eggs are rattling around in my uterus like a gourd. The clock is loud. The clock wanted me to consider that possibility... with him. He isn't ready to make that decision, and may never be.. so he thought it best we end things. Unfortunately, I can't just turn off my feelings for him and pretend I'm "liberated." He told me today that instead of grieving, I should feel free.*scoff* I feel more trapped than ever! This is a serious blow to me, and as much as he may feel happy and relieved, I'm devastated. We were doing really well! He and I were communicating effectively. We were working on stuff. I met his mother. We had a great year full of adventures and food outings. He went through a lot of hard life events, and I was there for him through all of it. He opened up to me and I learned a ton about him this year. He's my best friend and my lover, and I don't know how to just turn around and switch into platonic friendship! I just don't know how to. I don't know how to let go of what I thought was a great future. I can't comprehend why he would want to do that. Then he told me he didn't want to only date one woman right now.

Night Terrors Are Foretelling

I had a terrible nightmare a few weeks back that involved him wanting me to clean his apartment, but also having to meet his new girlfriend in the process. He had said it was important we got along. She was just a baby at 19. Although I congratulate my unconscious mind for concocting that lovely anxiety dream, I see I had some foresight (and likely some hindsight). Ironically, younger women with their bewitching sexuality will always have power over men, no matter how long and hard they fight to dominate. Beauty tops a man's success every time, and is almost always their biggest weakness and downfall. I see that now. I cannot win any longer at that game, but he, chasing youth eternal, will be running to his death. It will not bring him peace, so I hope he can eventually stop and be with one person. I will NEVER be cool about him being with another woman. I cannot possibly be trusted to not kill her. I'm sure he could say the same about whomever I date. He wouldn't want to know, and so likewise, I cannot know I've been replaced. 

I would rather believe in the stereotypical fantasy that there is no one as worthy of him as I am and can take care of him as well as I have, and I choose to fully reject the reality that he has already moved on behind my back. It is much easier on my poor, delicate, borderline-psychotic brain to believe I'm the best thing he'll ever have than to accept that I'm not. I don't know how guys deal with things so pragmatically because I'm not a guy. Think me foolish for it... but I realize now that the survival mechanism to get over the gut-wrenching heartbreak of lost hopes and dreams is to believe in the fairytale. 

Women need hope in life to survive. Without it, they have no will to live. 

The Lion Tamer

November 2008

you feed my curiosity
a string of minimal verse... just enough to suffice, no more... to catch my attention, and hold it
I am in my zen period
indefinitely holding it

I will tell you how you approach lions again

like a tamer... with swift and deliberate motions, never taking your eyes away... showing no weakness but a positive in its place, sure-footedness instead of tripping on its beauty
lovely moments of pause
never forgetting that it could kill you with one fell swoop

time is currency

we spend and invest it wisely, in the lion's den
we pace each other, sideways eyes. one must never approach a lion straight-on.
rhythmic tail sweeping softly on the switch,
bewitching eyes of secrets
we are both dangerous to each other
it is impossible to really know if two can co-exist, but we tried
I fed on your mind, and you ate my heart

May 2013

I read your old love letters and fall for you all over again
but in the morning, I wake up with that terrible emptiness. I live with the pain of letting you go, all through my day
each memory in this city is twisted into my being, and even the crosswalks are tattooed with your footprints
Each day, my own private hell to remind me that I have lost you
and suddenly, none of my successes can measure up to what we had
I don't know how to end this
you are my muse, but you are gone

I am a lion tamer, without a lion

Under the Radar, I Become Bulletproof

As of April 17th, I have officially completed my 6 month probationary period through the State! That means I am reviewed and then sealed into the safely cushioned environment of all State Union workers, with full benefits and a retirement plan!! I'm stoked about my job, despite some irritating bits, and know this is a great fit for me. I will be able to grow for years within this organization, and I have a LOT to learn.

I have already learned a lot of valuable things, not entirely "work" related.

1) bus passes are pre-tax dollars if I have it deducted from my payroll
2) I can be sick for 3 weeks a year
3) I can take a trip to India on paid vacation time for another 3 weeks
4) If I ever feel uncomfortable when meeting with other employees, I have Union protected rights to immediately call and end to the meeting and walk away, or tell them to leave
5) I have birds that copulate on my windowsill. They like my origami birds hanging from my blinds
6) Sitting on a pilates ball at my desk is good for my posture, and also amusing to bounce on when checking emails
7) Being nice to the janitors means they do a great job vacuuming my space
8) Being nice to security means they leave the front lobby door open just a little bit late so I don't have to go to the back of the building when I leave
9) Bringing cookies to State workers in your first week doesn't make you friends, but bringing malasadas in the second month does
10) Always create an external email account and copy every reply to it. The state computer system still uses Lotus Notes, and everything in your inbox erases after a few weeks

I am bonafide Union, now. W00T!