Tuesday, December 4, 2012

of his mouth

you annihilate my sleep
the spoken spanish word
was only a passing minor thought
then you whispered
a casual word
a drunken sentence
i started to wait and anticipate
in a moment of auditory ecstasy
you read Neruda to me at 4 am
it was soft and languid
your full lips
and tongue on the roof of your mouth
gently, purposefully forming the words
closing my eyes to imagine them
and their meaning
in my mind's eye
to memorize
the beauty in that moment
the ebb and flow of those words and sounds
i crave the understated intensity of your voice
reading Neruda's thoughts on a woman's body
i crave you
while you annihilate my sleep

Sunday, November 25, 2012

darkened bedroom

it is a process
it feels like crap
it feels like hell
the sad acceptance
fighting against the acceptance
trying to remember better moments
then throwing them under a mental blanket
they impede the process
the desire to move to anger
but you can't
you just can't because of the love

the desire for sleep
that just won't happen
because you are so deep in the process
i talk to myself in the darkened bedroom
like i am on my bike in the middle of a hard part of a ride.

i just need to get to that tree
then i can reevaluate
can i make it to the tree?
of course i can

i am in the process
the process that feels like crap
the process that feels like hell.

Thursday, November 15, 2012

it's a mad mad mad mad world, part 3 -reevaluating love

11/15/12 (Thurs) 6:50am itunes: Bon Iver, For Emma, Forever Ago.

I had to sleep. This part of my weekend remains the heaviest for my tired mind.  I know that if my love relationships are not complicated then I seem to have little or no interest. I deeply realized this recently.  I do not know why this is.  I know why I am attracted to certain men with certain traits, why I have been the person who is attracted to people who need to be saved.  With that said the last 2 men I have chosen....don't need to be saved and are in many ways very different choices for myself than all the other men in my past.  Why do I need, want, crave complicated? Why?  Do I fear boredom? Do I fear happiness? Is it my karma or destiny? I simply do not know those answers yet.  I get on my bike and ride and try to see if I can find those answers lingering in an unexplored part of my brain trying to hide in between song lyrics.

Friday night. I was tired from the ride. Disappointed with myself for what felt like a failure in front of the person I find most important. I was hurt by the lack of affection from him and what felt (and still unresolved) this withdrawing from me and what might be and us (on that day and for the weekend). My son was gone with his father. I was on my own. I had no place to be. It was entirely up to me.  I reacted to my day.  I got a bottle of bourbon, and couple of bottles of ginger ale and headed to Brooklyn Bikes to hang out with Chris.  I did not know where my night was going to take me, and I did not care.  At the very least, I could hang out with my friend.  He had rejected me so severely 3 years ago and now we seem to be even closer than what we were before.  We hang out. We laugh. We drink.  It came back to my place.  We watched Meaning of Life. I cooked a very late night dinner. We watched Top Gear.  We laughed and drank more.  I fell asleep curled up next to my friend that I had been so deeply deeply in love with.  The person that I loved so severely that when it did not go where I wanted it to go...I thought my world would end, I would never know love and passion again. The intensity of my love for Chris was the kind I had never experienced before.  Then I found myself laying on my couch, watching movies, curled up with my friend,  and all I can wish for is my current love.

Did I mention that the guy before my current love started texting me again on Thursday? the guy I easily could have fallen for deeply and had hoped for a relationship with? the guy who freaked the fuck out on me? with no real explanation, just shitty hurtful phrases to try to push me away.  His texts from Thursday thru last night are remarkably like the kind of texts when he first pursued me and when we started dating.  I have very very mixed feelings about this.  trust being a huge component here.  even with in simply the capacity of a friendship....Then to make this even weirder...in discussing this recent set of events involving Jimmy with Chris, I find out from Chris that I am the third woman they have both have in common (dating/sexually).  When Chris told me this, I am pretty sure the back of my head exploded.  It shouldn't have. San Diego can be a small town in this way.  I have maintained for some time now that my business is not done with Chris and these other 2 men.  What that means,  I could not tell you, but simply a gut feeling (yes insert devo song here lol).  That has not changed.  I have no way of knowing if Jimmy really intends for anything other than friendship.  I really don't.  All I can do is try to be careful and take care of myself in all of this.

As to my current love, my feelings of love have not changed.  What is changing is my willingness to remain quiet and patient to let him process through what he needs to process.  I am exhausted trying to figure out where I stand with him and in his life.  I want him to choose me and choose me confidently.  I do not believe in ultimatums.  They never achieve what you hope they will.  To tell him to make a choice will do no good.  It is I who will have to make a choice, when I am ready to do so.  I am still not ready.  Yes, part of all of this is the fear that I will not like what will happen if I push him.  It does not take intuition to tell me that. It is experience.  I try to figure out how to ask even just one question that I feel like I need to ask him to put myself back on some stable ground.

There have been other men in the last 3 years, but these three are the ones that somehow I feel so tied to on a cosmic scale.  It sounds stupid, corny, whatever derogatory phrase you want to place in lieu of "god damn hippy bullshit." For me, it still remains.  I hate that the only control that i possess is the the control of ending all of it with everybody.  That feels like an ultimatum to them and to me.

I want love. I want to sit and watch movies and laugh with the person I am in love with.  I want to make dinner for that person. I want to sleep at night curled up with him, and not another because of a sense of rejection and need for affection and acceptance.  The game of love is gut wrenching.  I second guess all my words, needs and intuition.  I worry that I will drive all of them off. I continue to sit with much to say in my head analyzing whether or not what I have to say is real, fair, and worthy.  I worry that if I do say what I feel like needs to be said, the timing maybe wrong.  I hate fear, yet I possess it in love.  I have only deeply fallen in love 4 times.  Andy, Jay, Chris and current love.  So different are all of these loves.  2 of these 4 rejected me. I do not know where any of this takes me. Like I said, I am still working on these thoughts. What is real? What is reaction? What next step will I take? Can I do this without going back to a space of hating myself, because that place is so comfortable and I have so much control there?  I don't think I want to go back there.  So I am going to have to live with the unknown, the fear and the ever present lack of control...and believe in myself...

Wednesday, November 14, 2012

it's a mad mad mad mad world, part 2-father and son

11/14/12 (Weds) 11:30pm Itunes: Two Gallants, The Throes

Recently I called Jay. I told him I needed help. Period. End of story. I NEED FUCKING HELP!  I need something of a life that is mine for a few moments where I don't have to be Mama.  My family is wonderful and awesome, but I need a break. A regular break. A break where I don't feel guilty.  Funny thing is that Thurston can stay with my parents, but I live that time feeling constantly like a left shoe is going to drop at any moment.  Pretty much I feel the same with all of my family when it comes to watching Thurston.  Never really does anybody watch Thurston without having to give me some sort of negative report when I pick him up.  That does not make it easier for me to ask for help or feel comfortable leaving him pretty much anywhere.  With that said, about people I trust deeply, I actually have a bigger comfort zone with Jay and Thurston despite Jay's lack of participation for the last 3 years.

I told Jay that I could not expect my family to pick up the pieces that he really needed to hold.  Reluctantly he agreed to try to keep Thurston for a couple of nights in a row.  As it turned out, the first weekend was to be this past one.  I told Jay that the car would with go with Thurston.  Jay only has motorcycles and scooters.  He could have the car for the time Thurston is with him.  I have been riding my bike so much and my social life revolves around all areas I can easily bike around, it is a no brainer of a choice.

Jay met me at the apartment. We would swap vehicles at that point.  Jay and i were going to pick up Thurston together from school.  It gave me and Jay a few minutes to go over a few things.  Including some "nervousness" that Thurston had had in the morning.  Thurston was ecstastic to see Jay walk in with me.  They dropped me off at the apartment.  It had stopped raining again, and looked like it was going to stay that way for a couple of hours. So me and my bike could be on the prowl.

To the best of my knowledge, Thurston and Jay had a good weekend.  I,  in turn,  knew that Jay would call me if I was needed, but in this situation, I trust him.  He is the Father of my child.  He held and fed Thurston as a completely helpless and dependent baby.  He did so with kindness and love.  The fear he could overcome.  He would again.  I know my child is safe with his Father.  To Jay's credit, there was NO negative reports.  Nothing about his sleep habits, eating habits, allergies or moods.  Nothing about how it was more than what he could do or that it was too long or that he had other things to take care of.  I am grateful for that.  What was in theory a trial weekend was successful.  I have more weekends coming to me now as well.  The weight off of my mind on getting a little time to just be me was lifted.

Yet this respite of me time was tempered by my (stupid) wounded pride from the bike ride earlier in the day. I also knew that I would not to get to spend time with my guy of choice as he had other obligations, even though I still maintain he could have done both.  What do I know?  I slipped insidiously into a bit of reaction mode (a little understatement).

it's a mad mad mad mad world part 1...the bike ride

11/14/12 (Weds)  10:43pm itunes: Fleetwood Mac

How I start and end the days seem to be really different.  Some mornings I wake up and the day seems unstoppable. Other days...well I am spun out and angry. Even when I have had sleep this sometimes happens.  So weird.  Today, I was a bit spun and angry.  I had one hell of a hedonistic yet thought provoking weekend.  I am still trying to figure this crap out. Here we go...just gonna break it up into 3 or 4 entries.  I am seriously trying to process this stuff. My editing maybe rough.  I just want to get the thoughts down.

It started with the psychological death march of a bike ride on Friday morning.  My current love interest, yes, that guy, that I keep making reference to, that actually has a fucking name...that I can't seem to say on this blog...agreed to show me the way by bike to UCSD. It happens to be one of his favorite rides, or at least the gateway to his favorite bike rides.  I was so fucking nervous.  I went into this with my ocd already flaring up just with my anxious spin.  The stupid head games I can play with myself. The ever present mental masturbation. Could I keep up with him? Would I do something retarded on the bike, like forget to unclip and fucking fall over? Would I be able to climb every hill he might take me by? Would I just look like an idiot? So by the time he got to my house, i was shaking and could hardly eat the food I knew I needed to eat.  He was his usual day time removed. no hug no kiss. all business. the stupid fucking facade that i do battle with all to regularly. the facade that wants to be an island. My head was working overtime and we hadn't even left.  I did tell him I was super nervous.  He didn't realize that I was talking about riding with him.  I had to clarify.  I am not sure that he really got it.  Just the psychological pressure I put on myself in some ways doomed me.  Only at the beginning of the ride was I able to show the tiniest bit of confidence. Half way thru the ride I realized that in my anxiousness had left my water bottle on my kitchen counter.  Now I was just pissed off at myself.  That was stupid.  I needed the water.  My pride (which is stupid as well) wouldn't let me ask to slow down or stop. He spent a bunch of the ride ahead of me. To his credit, he wouldn't get too far out of sight. I spent most of the ride fighting stupid issues present in the relationship and my insecurities as a novice cyclist.  Only twice did I ask to stop for "just a quick minute." He was a gentleman and gave me his water bottle.  The day was cold and had rained the night/morning and sprinkled on us a tiny bit, but mostly was windy and cold.  I also felt like part of the ride we were going against a decent headwind. Note to self: I really need to do the ride to Coronado, down the strand just to get more experience riding in a headwind.  Anyways, I digress...by the time we get to Presidio (which I have spent the last few months working on being able to climb...) fredy says ok...are you ready? I am fucking spent! But what else can I say, but sure.  Then he tells me, we are gonna go up this side...i think it is easier.  well fuck me man. It was the other side of Presidio. The side I NEVER go up, even in my car.  Great.  I tell him...just go. I will meet you at the top.  I have NO way to gauge what my shifting/gears will need to be etc.  I am going into it pretty blind...again, not a good space for me mentally...I know that I will need to overcome this too, but not on this day, nor at this point when I have so many other things that I am working on to become more second nature to me on a bike.  He sets off, like a rocket to my eyes...and I put on beastie boys (which I like to climb to) and start up the hill.  a 1/4 of the way up my right calf cramped up hard.  I had been fighting with it on and off all ride and for the previous couple of days as well.  There was no way I was gonna be able to continue. I really felt like the best choice for my body but awful for the psyche was to get off the bike and walk the hill.  So I did.  My guy was laying on a person's lawn waiting for me.  I felt TOTALLY humiliated.  He asked if I was ok. I told him my leg cramped. I was ok.  More than anything my pride was wounded as this happened essentially in front of him.  We waited a little more and then he asked if I was ok to get home. I said yes (which was true). We got on our bikes and rode off.  I let him gain a big distance on me.  I rode my bike and cried, and I didn't want him to see me be that weak.  In Mission Hills there is a coffee shack.  He had stopped there and had bought a soda for him and me.  We sat and talked and drank the cold drinks.  Which felt good but started to make me really cold sitting in a bit of wind and shade.  We talked about kids. How he doesn't want to have any. How he regularly finds pretty much everybody annoying.  Including his mother. He talked about how his mom likes to be an island.  That sometimes she is more of an island than he is. I feel like he is trying to give me messages in these statements.  I sat there and listened. I watched him. I watched him look at a couple of girls.  I am not sure he was looking at them, but simply watching them pass by us.  I am not that naive to think he would not notice other women, but I know him well enough to see that I think it was him being aware of his environment and who is in it. The smile he had was not his real smile, but his public smile that he gives to so many when he is at work.  We then rode back through Hillcrest and over.  Basically both of us live off of Meade.  When we got to Illinois and Meade (where I live) he waved goodbye and rode down the street. I was PISSED. WTF???  WHATEVER! seriously what the fuck ever. I brought my bike upstairs, sat down, composed a text then promptly erased it.  I was too pissed. That would be no good.  I ended up telling him thank you and that it was my pride but more of my ocd that got the better of me.  Threw my phone down, turned up music stupid loud and cried. cried pretty hard too.  My head had won this fucking round.  It would take time to unravel this one.  Good thing I was going to have a childless weekend starting later that night.

Monday, November 5, 2012

dreams of the single minded.

11/05/12 @09:11pm listening to two cow garage on itunes

too much is in my head.
got to get rid of some of it.
so many thoughts just colliding with each other trying to get out.
it makes it hard to write a cohesive piece that makes sense outside of my cranium.

i love my bike.  my black and purple surly long haul trucker.  the bike keven built for me.  that bike keeps taking me farther and farther. keeps my legs spinning as fast as my brain and thoughts.  sometimes even the harder and faster I spin my legs, it seems to help turn down the volume of the thoughts. i try to watch out ahead of me. helps me to hold my line, but i am mesmerized by my front wheel going around and catching sight of my feet clipped in going around and around.  i have to force myself to not watch. i rode 37.5 miles the other day. i have climbed Torrey pines. i did 15 miles averaging 17 mph. i shaved a second off my flying 200 time at the track last week. i went from 18.8 sec down to 17.8 seconds.  getting closer to my 15 second goal. maybe by the time track season starts i will be even closer.  i sprint  down the cantilevered bridge in balboa park 3 or 4 times a week to improve sprint time. i actually am going to take a spin class to try to get better at sprinting and closing gaps on the track.  turns out i like going on long rides with other people.  i am hopefully going to go on a long ride again on Friday from normal heights to ucsd.  i am having a friend show me how to get there.  he is a strong rider. i am in love with him and scared that i will disappoint him with my bike skill.  we have not gone riding in a couple of years, not since dating. i hate ocd and perfectionism. i should not give a fuck, but i do.  my bike and riding it brings me a joy that i never expected. honestly sometimes after a hard ride and conquering a challenge, it has the same effect as really good sex.  guessing it is the endorphins.  i say humbly, i like what it is doing to my body.  i have never been this thin, this fit, this strong. i really like being strong.  every day i ride my bike and i climb some crappy hill, i keep telling myself...i have done harder and survived. i grew a child in me. i raise that child mostly alone.  i can climb a dumb ass fucking hill. and do it with style.  i now like how i look when i am wearing tight pants and a tight fitting tank top.  i like me physically.  i love my black and purple bad ass surly.

i am spread to thin. i have complications. i have frustrations. i need to once again work towards creating some change in this area. i have fear and sadness in coming to the decision to work towards changing this.  change will be good, but i have to acknowledge the negative/darker feelings i have about it.

yah. i am in love. i admit it. i believe he loves me too. it remains complicated. it is as clear as mud.  he has fear. he has concerns. some are valid. some belong to just him. some belong to both of us.  we are in this unknown phase. we broke up. we can't seem to stay apart. are we accepting that we do want to be together? why does this have to be so complicated? i long to say his name. i long to sleep on his shoulder. i want to lay in bed and whisper about our day.  i want to sleep to his soft rhythmic breathing. i want to fall asleep like we did a less than a week ago, with our lips together barely touching and breathing each others breath. i want to hear him say my name. i want to be on that moonlit beach standing wet and cold in our underwear from a magical swim in the freezing water kissing.  i want to be lost in that moment again. my fear is that he will simply freak out again, despite his love for me. i want him to feel confident and choose me.  i want to read Neruda and Plath aloud as a bed time story....

the rest:
i have never felt this secure living in my own skin.  i do not hate myself. i am realizing that multitasking sucks. i am fighting to live a life where i get to do one thing at a time.  my peace of mind is so much greater when i can achieve that way of being. it is challenging in this life in this world. answer the phone, do the work, have laundry going, dinner cooking, answering the child's needs, looking at texts and facebook, and not feel overwhelmed. working hard on not being angry, bitter and jealous.  trying to take steps to make change so those feelings can dissipate into the ethers.  think i am getting tired now that these thoughts have finally been pulled from the brain. sleep that hopefully will bring me dreams of fulfilled love and warm long bike rides to the ocean's edge.

Sunday, October 28, 2012

i have absolutely no idea

Admittedly had some bourbon tonight.  The last couple of weeks have been pretty much torture.  I have been engaged in the oddest affair of the heart. on and off for the last two and half years.  In the last six months it has become quite a bit more constant.  almost to the point that i would have almost said, i have a boyfriend.  bizarre, i know. yet two weeks ago he fucking dumped me within 16 hours of telling me that he was in love with me. fuck me in the neck. seriously. heartbreak of the most serious kind.  the kind when you have been involved with a friend who has seen you in the worst of your times, in your worst of shapes and still loves you. the person that you think, nah. no way. friend. maybe we go sideways sometimes, but no. not going there. then you do.

and again.

such a fucked up situation. the deep love. yet you want to be in serious denial about it.
as if it wasn't real,  rejection then would be so much easier to handle.
then you find yourself waiting to hear from him.
counting down until you know for sure when you get to see him again.
strategic posts on facebook, letting him know where you are, in case he wants to know.
the elation of him showing up at those places after you have posted.

then the awfulness.
the "i'm done."
the "i should have ended this earlier."
the tears. the pain. the torture.

then two weeks later.
both at the same place.
walking to the car.
the kiss. the tears.
i missed you.
i love you.
the insane yet absolutely beautiful night together.
all from him...

now i wait for what happens next.
do i hope?
do i listen to my fear?

Wednesday, October 3, 2012

Another Lost Generation

There are days when reincarnation seems so completely possible.  I am standing outside of myself, watching to whom I seem the most drawn.  Those people who are creative, intelligent, witty. And tortured.  The people who have a dark tragedy that dominates their psyche and soul. I recently was told by a friend that she was leaving on a "trip" because she needed to pay bills, she had no "real job", and in times like this resorted to being a "high end" prostitute.  I firmly believe that the world's oldest profession should be legal and regulated on some levels, yet I still walked away stunned. I had no judgement, and in theory, I really should not have had any surprise at this news, and yet I found myself feeling a bit surreal upon hearing her tell me this.   This morsel of information, given to me as a test, as a confession, as a possible cry for help as she looked into this sea she was getting ready to surf.  I had stepped into a Henry Miller book.   To process or perhaps even understand, I took another mental step back and started thinking about how I had met her, and how the social circles are always so small.  I found myself realizing that there is this darkness that runs in many of the people I know.  Some are great at hiding it.  Others wear it like a badge.  Many don't know how to deal with this dark lake they own and dive into a life of substance abuse and allow that even darker and murky water to warm them and carry them to places only they know exist.  I also see the people who do not possess that excruciating malignancy. The ones who are just living. Existing in the moment. They too are drawn into the darkness and abuse, simply by the nature of being at the right place at the right time and the charisma that can come from these individuals.  I, on the other hand, interpret my roll in this mini society as the watcher.  I can be self destructive and can have a level of darkness, but I never live there  long. I can always see the other side of the lake with it's beautiful and majestic trees I want to climb and the moonlight reflecting on it's surface.  So I watch. I remember.  The geniuses, the talented,  the beautiful, the tortured, the drunk.  When I do participate, nay swim in their morose lagoon, in retrospect, I realize that I could be picked up in space and time and be carousing in Paris in 1921 with the same people, the same souls. Playing out their sadness and love; I sit on their foreboding beach,  documenting it in a frail and elusive moment of inspiration.

Tuesday, October 2, 2012

I am laying here for the third night in a row attempting to write an entry.  I was writing to Melanie recently about how I feel like my life even at its slowest moves at a frantic pace.  I want to write about my recent months of aggressive bicycle riding and training. I want to expound on the thoughts i have about love. I want to talk about this time of year and the dramas that occurred  three years ago that have forever changed my life dramatically. How this time of year now makes me anxious and melancholy. Only then to roll into the holidays which I used to love and now would rather endure the stomach flu than have to live through again. I want to write about the people who inhabit my life and how i seem to have this strange penchant for the most tortured yet beautiful souls. How I think sometimes that is my fate despite all the fight I have in me. I am hot. I am tired. I am disillusioned with so many things, yet I seem to have finally learned to just give it another day. Today I rode 10 miles in the disgusting heat. I wanted to do 20 and try to beat this cynicism into submission, but 10 was all I could do without hurting myself. Then tonight I went roller skating. That for a brief moment brought a smile to my face. Now I think I am just tired. Work will be a welcome respite to the inner workings of my ocd brain that keeps coming  back to the same stupid place.  I would like to just close the door for a few minutes, but it just doesn't want to let me.  The best I can hope for is a dream or two that make me somehow feel good.  I will hope as I close my eyes in a little bit.

Thursday, September 27, 2012

You can call it another lonely day

Again he was drunk. Again walking him home. Our arguing and banter. His unexpected sweetness came through my uncomfortable emotional comments. He kissed me on University. Home at last. Both on the couch and he fumbled to find something to smoke. I will not think about his kiss; not for the last 2 1/2 years. It is 3am. Stay or go? His shoulders shrug. Half on the couch, half off, attempting to look at his face and eyes directly. Stay or go? Finally, I’m in those eyes. He took my hair out of my face, pulled me in, and kissed me. 

I mustered the courage and entered the above paragraph in a competition in a local publication for a fictional story (not poetry) on really any subject matter but could only be  101 words.  I have never submitted my writing for any competition. I do not expect to win. In fact I think my piece is a bit overly romantic. Because life never happens like that ever on a Sat night/Sun morning a scant week ago in Sept. 

Thursday, September 20, 2012

muzzle on love

i told chris today i wasn't in love with him anymore.
even crazier, i meant it, not maliciously, but as a reality.
i thought i saw melanie get out of her car today at la jolla shores.
i had anxiety that started with dreams and carried through to this moment.
i couldn't stop shaking after i saw melanie's doppelganger.
i realized tonight i could give a shit about a band named boyz to men.
i continue to learn the painful lessons surrounding plans and expectations.
i realized how uncomfortable i am seeing young beautiful couples kissing in line at a pub.
despite what people want me to think or believe, i can love myself and still be sad, disappointed and fearful that love will never come my way.
i have listened to the police today in excess especially their first album.
i should have been a rabbi.
i should have been an architect.
i coulda been a contender.
i have fucking awesome legs and ankles.
i can sing a seriously rocking version of "roxanne"
i have been so infatuated with sting for so many years i can do all the crazy inflections he does on the first police album.
i ran and rode my bike.  neither to my total satisfaction today.
i showered twice.
i have been restricting what i say as i was told i made certain people uncomfortable.
i can still vomit my crap on my blog.
no muzzle.
i gathered some shells on the beach today for somebody.
decided that every man i have given those kinds of treasures to has kicked me to the curb.
decided the treasures of the sea were about symbolically washing them away from me.
i gave no treasures to anybody today.
i think i am rotating my ankles a little to much when i ride my bike now that i am clipped in.
i think this is made my ankles "freeze" up when i went running today.
yes i know my ankles are joints and i am simply referring to the muscle group that regulates that area of anatomy.
i am not going to edit/proof read this entry.
the anxiety of today has created latent anger that is coming forth.
rejection sucks just like climbing hills on a bike.
it just never gets easier.
there are too few people to talk philosophy with in any kind of detail.
there is simply not enough time in the day.
what can i do? all i want is to be next to you.
i don't know what has come over me,
i know he won't call.
that is why it is imperative to have NO expectations.
i can count on no one.
even the best of people lie.
i wish i could indulge my obsessions.
patience control restraint muzzle
the list is growing.
i was bold tonight and changed my facebook profile picture that is restrained sexy.
i don't care if the rest of you like it or not. I do.
i am a little tired tonight.
i feel a mental retreat starting to happen.
it is insanely hard to keep up anger and retreat when 2 of your closest friends are being sassy, funny, loving & supportive while on facebook.
i am not ready to stop typing.
love will walk thru my door someday.
in the meantime go fast turn left.
and don't spend too much money on babysitters while i pass through this.
wonder if i will sleep well or at all tonight.
are these those monkey mind thoughts i have been hearing about?
why would we want to suppress them?
not as sore as i thought i might be after the 20 mile ride yesterday.
i might be out of things to say of this kind of nature.
or not.
i could try to close my eyes for a minute or two.

Friday, September 7, 2012

With a Roof Right Over Our Heads

I could sit here at quarter past midnight and talk about how I worked a crazy long day, or how I have been working so hard this week I haven't been on my bike except casually since Saturday. I could sit here and bemoan problems with my love life at the moment. Kinda don't want to.  This morning to try to keep me up instead of feeling, well, grumpy, I decided that I was going to listen to my Toots and Maytals Pandora station.  Then in the car it turned into Bob Marley.  Admittedly it has been some time since I have listened to a full Bob Marley album.  Suddenly on my drive to the synagogue I was actually enjoying the heat for a brief moment and I was taken to another space and time when this album was playing....I have, in moments of mental respite from this long day, gone back to that moment in time.


I am guessing that it is something like 1991 maybe? I lived in a quirky garage apartment on Campus Ave in University Heights.  You had to climb a ladder to get from the downstairs up to the kitchen and bathroom.  All highly illegal, I suspect now, as a rental, but well...rent was cheap.  The air was not quite as humid as it feels today, but that hot, lazy, late summer feel for San Diego.  Where all the windows are open, and you can hear the cars and people going up and down the alley arguing and laughing. The smell of cigarettes and pot wafting in from those same people slowly sauntering down that alley.  Denizens for all types of activities and my coincidental, voyeuristic eavesdropping while I cooked in my kitchen, with the windows that opened wide out from the structure.  Those beautifully invasive purple morning glories that climbed the entire side of the apartment.  Growing into my kitchen  through the open windows and cracks in the walls, winding around anything and everything, greeting me with purple blooms every morning for breakfast. It was in this kitchen I had a boom box with a cassette player sitting atop an ancient refrigerator.  This delicious piece of machinery played this sweet, rhythmic love song of summer.  If I turned it up loud enough I could hear it through out the tiny place and it even would seep out into the enclosed back yard.  By comparison to now, life was so much more simple. I was broke as fuck, but still managed to have fun now and then. I can feel the breeze blowing through the apartment and swirling through the banana trees and papyrus that dominated the yard.  I can hear the music and smell the vegan chili simmering on the stove.  I have beer in hand, sitting on the grass next to the sidewalk path that led to my apartment.  I have my brushes and acrylic paints out.  I am painting Indian influenced abstract designs (mandalas) on the squares of concrete that are my pathway.  I occasionally lay on a light flannel blanket I have spread out on the cool green grass,  just watch the clouds meander by while I absorbed the cooler breeze.  Laundry is slowly getting done and I can smell the dryer blowing the hot air and soap scent into the ambient air as well.  My cats at that time went outside and are lounging in shady areas of the yard, occasionally tumbling with each other (as they were pretty much kittens then).  Home alone. The peace that comes with that kind of solitude.  In that moment life didn't have to move fast.  Life was selfish and egocentric. I only have the perspective now to see that. It didn't feel that way in that moment, but reflecting on it, I choose to remember what felt to be the ideal of that moment in the toil of today.

Tuesday, August 21, 2012

i am unlimited

this is not going to go well. it never does. time and time again. i can already feel my heart being ripped out. this situation has been so complicated for so long. nothing about it is easy or straight forward, and my last thought on this matter would have been that i would find myself emotionally invested in this situation. is it honesty on my part or pushing the boundaries as far as i can? push so hard that the hurt happens and i can move on. move on to the next high and inevitable fall. this time he (opposed to others) agreed to talk. he came in strong. he came in ready to end the romance. based on a single comment i made about our status. the comment had been based on how i  perceived a change in how we were relating to each other and my personal lack of clarity of my own emotions. a specific comment regarding not defining the future, but acknowledging that there was more being demonstrated than what we both originally had intended.  i was not strong, despite the fact i had instigated this. my tears had already been flowing all day. i spent most of my day hiding due to my inability to control them.  i suppose that tears might be considered manipulation by some. it was not intended as such by me. they were genuine. in our discussion i told him of his words and actions that belied emotion that would be hard to refute. his response was that they would never go away. by this time we were both holding onto each other. he kept saying that he wanted to remember my smell always. i could not control the involuntary sobs that burst out from my chest. i too want to remember his smell. we had been careful not to kiss. he kept holding me,  trying to comfort me. in the end it felt as if we were both clinging to each other. i did not want him to leave. i told him so. he stayed and we continued to hold each other. him playing with my hair and face in my neck. i too playing with his hair and rubbing his back and shoulders. we kissed. i cried. i told him of how he is two people to me. the person who comes to my door, and then, the one who leaves. as he gets ready to leave, he puts the facade on. the one that faces the world. the one that wants to be an island. the one that keeps people at bay. the one that comes to my door is the one that laughs. it is the one that reads literature and talks books with me. it is the one that kisses me under the blankets and laughs. the one i would actually consider tromping around paris with. the one with the half smirk and looks at my eyes with his half closed heavy lids. the one that bought me flowers on my birthday and wrote on the card that they were from someone else. the one that sat with me eating cookies i baked. the one that wants me to read aloud to him and tells me to crush the others at the track. i told him that i was scared of him leaving tonight. he would put on the facade, the other him, and the one that comes to my door would be gone forever... the tears ran down my face and landed on his face. his phone rang. it was midnight. he needed to leave. he kissed me. he held my face and kissed me again and again. i told him i was not ready for this to be over.  this time the facade did not go on. he said it did not start suddenly, and it won't end as such either. he kissed me again. he said we will hang out soon. strength and duality. were we both strong? or were we both weak? or is this the confusion and duality of emotion and attachment?

Sunday, August 19, 2012

Sand Angels

I am hot. It is a gawd awful heat wave that has descended on our dusty sub tropic town.  It sucks my motivation. I have no desire to do anything during daylight hours, and the night finds relief, but only out in it. My apartment has been retaining the heat well into the night. I have an even harder time fighting off anger and tears in this weather. I find myself lamenting all the comforts I had in my old house, like air conditioning.

I woke this morning, basically in tears. I have had good moments today of fun and laughter, but when left unoccupied and to my own devices the tears come back quickly and easily. I am struggling to figure out meaning once again in arenas that perhaps it is not time yet for that knowledge.  In this heat I have a harder time controlling the compulsive behavior. It is the analytical behavior that tends to be my undoing. 

Like wondering what meaning I have to people's lives. Did so and so mean what they said, because, now their words and actions don't really match.  Did he really like it when I stepped outside my comfort zone and scratched his beard?  I think he did, but I do not trust what I see most of the time. Did another person who was trying to tell me in a specific moment how he felt about me mean what I think he meant when he pulled my hand to his heart and held it there? and why? Did it mean anything that Chris and I walked home the other night talking of philosophy, dreams, sleep, love and insanity. What does it mean to me that I was ok with nothing happening physically? Does this mean that I have moved on? Does it mean that I actually have evolved feelings for others that override the love and passion I have carried for Chris for two and half years? What does it mean that Chris has been harder to deal with emotionally than Jay? Does it mean there is some great awful sense of denial in me about the relationship with Jay? My therapist wanted me to consider the chaos I am creating/allowing to circle around me. Am I ok with it? Can I live with it? Will it make me descend some place I work hard to avoid? Why is this chaos? Who is creating this chaos?   Am I creating this chaos? I don't know that this is really chaos. 

My head is tired. and hot. I just want to close my eyes and think thoughts that ultimately make me cry. Sometimes crying just feels good. I hate to cry. It makes my sinuses hurt terribly. I also feel insanely weak. Even when I cry at home alone, in the shower. I do not get the luxury of weakness. So much for controlling the stream of consciousness vomit tonight.  My eyelids are actually drooping.  I feel the tired hit my face. I might not be able to proof read this before publishing. I want to close my eyes and think of making sand angels on a moonlit beach with the sound of the waves pounding. The pungent salt air heavy in my hair and on my mouth. Laying in the damp sand feeling the cool moist air laying as a blanket draped over my legs, arms and eyes. Laying there in the angel impressions and reaching out holding a hand. the question is which hand? tonight i can picture different hands for different reasons. 

Thursday, August 16, 2012

start, stop, left turn

I have started a few posts and have yet to finish them. I have been tired or preoccupied at night when I usually write these posts.  I have been reading "The Unbearable Lightness of Being" and contemplating Nietzche, which leaves one drifting into strange, esoteric spaces. I realized recently that I live stream of consciousness-ly. I may have the ability to work and get much accomplished but most assuredly, my mind continues on its random journey even through the mundane tasks required of me.  The challenge I have contemplated of late is that I verbally emit stream of consciousness thought as well.  It is the rare individuals who understand the swift tangents our conversations will traverse. I have never really contemplated this way of being, it simply is, until now.  As usual, I have been wondering about my behavior within romantic relationships and thought, well, maybe, this is too much. That level of honesty and ability to switch gears quickly may be more than what others want to deal with.  Now, I am not saying that my brain will ever stop working the way that it does. Do I have the ability to control the output from my mouth? Months ago, I discussed at great length the concept of control in my life.  This really is just a varied aspect on that theme. For me, it takes great strength to change these pieces of my behavior, and I have been working to do so, even if for a period of time, to observe if there is a demonstrative difference due to the personal change. I really realized this when I texted to a romantic friend one word. Watermelon. I really didn't need to do that. It left him a bit perplexed as I found out later.  It was not like we were in the middle of a conversation or anything. I was thinking of him and also thinking of watermelon. Random as it may seem, but my brain put the two together. And I sent it.  I then think to the flip side of this coin.  Why the Frankenstein would I want to spend time with somebody who wouldn't get or appreciate how my mind processes?  (Side Story: "Frankenstein" is Thurston's really awesome replacement creative word for fuck...we have both been using "bad" language a bit too much of late & we decided collectively that we would try to come up with creative ways to reinvent those words...fun challenge for both of us...Frankenstein was his today!) Anyways, why would I even consider? Well,  good question, self.  It is not my intention to overwhelm anybody, romantically or otherwise. Does this play into the level of intensity that I have been (rightly) accused of? Perhaps.  All of this plays into the ridiculous social intricacies known as romantic love.  These ideas that are so deeply ingrained in us that it becomes a bizarre puzzle to unravel them.  Gordon called it "the game."  He is right. It is, and I have been losing the game in some fashion. Like most, I don't like to lose.  I think that maybe the crux of it. I feel like I am losing at much in my life. A failed marriage. Making significantly less money than I have made in a very long time (for a few years now). Having to sell the home that I put literally, my heart into the walls and earth. Failed love affairs. All of these losses take their toll on the psyche. What do I need to change about me to make these failures stop? It must be something at the core of me that is failing. So I then think of how I relate to people. How I could make it better?  At the heart of it, all I can do is control me, meaning, my actions and reactions (which includes when and what I say).

Friday, August 3, 2012


Folks....apology in some fashion for may last entry.
I was pissed off/burnt out/frustrated/lonely.
Please remember I have a ridiculous flair for the dramatic.
I AM OK!!! In fact even in a better mood.
Sorry if I caused you any concern.  Be concerned when I don't post for extended periods of time.
I was venting, and very few people have access to this blog.
Love you all, and thanks for checking in. Sending out lots love to you all.
Again, sorry if I made you worry.

Wednesday, August 1, 2012

full moon bullshit

9:49pm Wednesday August 1, 2012
Ipod=Langhorne Slim and the Law, The Way We Move.

I want reassurance. I want to know that I am loved. I want to know that I desired.
I don't want to be lonely. I don't want to be heartbroken.
Some days it just seems like that is all I will ever know.
I was alone in my marriage. I have yet to have any kind of successful subsequent relationship.
I have a beautiful child, but he is my responsibility not my companion or partner.
Also, due to financial limitations I struggle to have regular adult interactions.
My best friend is still in prison in another state, and well, not so good at corresponding.
I would like to not feel this way so much of the time.
The sense of there being nobody out there for me.  I have watched this all my life.
I am quite over it all.  I am tired of being a paltry second choice to someone who might be better.
I am tired of thinking it is because I am defective.
I just don't believe it anymore.
I am tired. I am burnt out.
I am tired of giving.
It is my choice to give. I think I am going to stop.
It would be nice if somebody could figure out that I am worthwhile to give to.
Tonight is one of those nights where I simply feel on the brink.
I am not sure where the strength will come from to hold it together for another 20 minutes, until I try to fall asleep.
Today is the kind of day that I start to remember why I used to have a fantasy about getting on a plane, leaving and never coming back.
Today is the kind of day where I fail to see the beauty around me.
Fail to see companionship, camaraderie, love, hope and joy.
I only see work, responsibility, loneliness and failure.
I see making efforts over and over to love simply be slapped in the face and told to go away.
I struggle for joy and purpose in these days.
It is as if my existence is meaningless.
No amount of running, walking or physical exercise seems to be able to curtail this frustration and sadness in me today.
It is pathetic that I just want to tell a live warm person who fucking cares about me, about how I am struggling to get through this day, and what I have is a small private pathetic blog.
If it weren't for the fact that this has an email distribution list, I am sure it would never get read, and more than likely, the emails aren't either.

Saturday, July 28, 2012

Another Morning

Sleep came and went.  I woke completely anxious.  Starting the day this way is not pleasurable.  There are a few reasons for my anxiety. I need to figure out how to process through them, and let them go. In my anxious state, I want to pick apart pieces of my evening last night and be uber-critical of myself :

*I refer to a person in the following piece as TM.  These are NOT his initials.  I am simply attempting to preserve his privacy, which is important to him.  Those of you who have been close to me and read this blog should know I am referring to whom,in the recent months, I lost my heart.  Additionally...the italic writing is me arguing with myself.

Yes, I had 3 beers over 3 hours.
-not the end of the world.  I didn't exactly chug a 12 pack and a bottle of whiskey. Then go carousing into the wee hours of the morning looking for trouble. In fact, I maintained what would be considered a reasonable level of control and restraint, with possible exception in sassy-ness arena.

Yes, saw TM* (and wasn't expecting it), and question the entire, minuscule interaction . Did I look ok? Did I behave like a nervous idiot? Will my nervousness be perceived as "super emotional?" Will it make him think "oh god, I CANNOT deal with her."?
-Although I want to see him, I am unsure how to even behave around him these days, and hid part of the time in the office, until I just could not stand it any longer.  Then came out of hiding, drank one of the three beers and hoped that I wouldn't vomit literally or figuratively. In reality, very little dialog, chose to give him personal space, kept any and all conversation very light. I did not do anything that is to be considered wrong.  He must understand that he makes you nervous given all that has gone on.  Perhaps, kind of like a wild animal, he is even more nervous than you. This situation is a complete unknown, it is ok to have anxiety about it.  So funny, it was him that went on and on about pressure, and now I am perceiving a sense of pressure from him to behave in a way that i do not even know what the behavior is to be.

Yes, I became animated & sassy after TM left as a coping mechanism.
-When I don't understand a romantic situation I tend to perceive it in a negative way and believe that it is all a metaphor for rejection.  I do not deal with rejection well, although I have been told by many people "who deals with rejection well?"  So in terms of perceived rejection, I become animated and well, sassy for lack of a better word.  It is probably the only time people will see me actually be "fuck you. I am a bad ass!" in attitude.  It is the most arrogant I will be without anger.  When I get angry I have a tendency to retreat to a verbally intellectual  superior space and I become in many ways my dear Father.  A very, very smart man, who has no qualms of showing and telling people of his intellectual prowess and superiority.  I ask you to trust me on this one.  This is not a place where you want to see/encounter me.  Take the animated, rejected bad ass me over the intellectual, angry bad ass me.  The first one is infinitely more fun. Back to situation. Yes flirted, did not make inappropriate advances on anybody, or say/do anything to be ashamed of.  So why are you beating yourself up for this? Because you thought well of yourself and that you deserve something good? Well get over it.  Ok, I can have some patience with myself in that I am trying very hard to change how I view myself, and I do know that change creates a certain amount of anxiety.  So a little due to change is ok, but not allowed to dwell a long time in that space.

Yes, I flirted with a couple of people in my rejection/bad ass coping mode.
-fuck the anxiety. fuck TM. i am a bad ass. ok....still coping with potential perceived rejection even as I write this. Again, I did not say or do anything that I have reason to be ashamed of.

Yes, I was enthusiastic about riding my bike and my desire to improve at that skill. But crap, I work at the bike shop, so If I can't be over enthusiastic there, well I am screwed. Maybe I am just nervous about that, as I am such a novice (something that also creates anxiety for me...trying new things and admitting publicly that I can not do something more than proficiently). Admittedly, I worry/freak out thinking that I sound like a complete moron.  Maybe that is how I was sounding to everybody?  Where is my bad ass attitude now? Why does it abandon me when I am thinking about this crap?
-I need to get over it.  I am entitled to learn new things and be excited about them and not be apologetic about it!! Besides do I need to be quite that self conscious? The answer should be NO! and fuck anybody who thinks or says crappy things about me. I have no malicious intent in my enthusiasm.

Yes, I was enthusiastic about talking about all the wonderful times I have spent in Yosemite.  I guess this is part of the over-enthusiastic me that made an appearance last night.
-Well, this really wasn't such a bad thing.  I was just excited and could have sold Yosemite to the Native Americans who lived there and know the beauty intimately.

Yes, I texted with a few people. In times past, this could be bad, really bad, but upon rereading them, they were texts I would have sent without beer or rejection reaction. My sense of control and restraint within the confines of therapy have served me well.  Except for the one text to TM.  I haven't deleted the one text.  I have reread it multiple times and it remains a valid (maybe slightly weird) question and the question still stands, and again one I might have sent without beer in the face of rejection.
-Improvement over times past, and all I want to do is improve myself and how I relate to the world.  This may or may not be a mistake.  Only time will tell, as I think the question texted was a valid one. I am having more anxiety because it has remained unanswered.  I know perfectly well that TM won't respond if he is self conscious or is unsure how to respond.  I think my question made him self conscious of his words and clarity in regards to humor in text form. Again, time will only tell.

I discovered last night that other men in my life seem to be unsure of who I am romantically linked.  It was thought that I was possibly dating somebody, that is simply a friend.  Apparently they think I have a wider appeal than I allow myself to see/believe. I find this weird (thinly veiled sense of disbelief). I guess this is yet something else that causes me anxiety and concern.
-I should have more confidence.  It is ok.  And if TM thinks I am dating other people, well he is right, because I am, and if he wants something different, he can step the fuck up.  I do NOT need to be anxious about this. I am hurting no one that I am aware of, with the exception of myself with this crappy spin causing me anxiety.  I deserve to find love and partnership.  If it doesn't come from TM then there is somebody equally as good, if not better making their way towards me, and I to him.

Most of these situations really shouldn't cause me anxiety, but they still do.  Ok. Focus on the situations that didn't make me anxious.  I had 2 conversations via text that were awesome. One with a close girl friend and the other with an (anonymous) "friend." I trust those 2 people. I do not believe they have any intention to hurt me emotionally, and a reasonable longish history with both.  I am terrified of the intense feelings that I still have for TM, and so the possibility of allowing them coming back out to have to endure rejection like last time scares the crap out of me.  Besides, I am getting ahead of myself.  I do not even know what TM is even feeling about me at this moment.  I could be starting to make mountains out of molehills.  No expectations is the safest place for me to live mentally.  I just have to keep telling myself that.  No expectations.  My anxiety surrounding rejection has led me to lead a life where I reject first.  I have only had 3 relationships where I did not choose the end of it.  TM is one of the 3.  With this said, through the anxiety and fear, I am still drawn to the possibility of a figurative "meeting of the minds" with TM. I suppose this is why we can choose to be a rock or an island unto ourselves, where we can't get hurt;  or we take the risk, the leap and know that we very well may fall.  Maybe the fall, if it even happens, won't be very far this time.

Friday, July 20, 2012

no talking and all action

Monday July 17th, 2012 at approximately 11am, my marriage of 13 years and 4 months came to a legal end (this doesn't count the 3 years of dating/living together).  I just wrote a whole convoluted piece on my feelings about it.  Erased it.  I am reminded of a lyric from the song "Ocean sized" by Jane's Addiction.

"I want to be more like the ocean.  No talking and all action.  No talking and all action."

It was my past.  I own my future as much as my past.  I may talk a lot, but I never believed in the passive life, for better or for worse.  I have always been an active participant, even when I make a crap load of mistakes.  I prefer to try to be like the mother ocean. All action.

"I've seen the ocean break on shore, come together with no harm done."

I have much I could say, but it won't change the past, and the future lays elsewhere.  Therefore, maybe it is better to say nothing more.


Friday, July 6, 2012

6 things I can't live without

Recently I was asked on a stupid questionaire what 6 things I could not live life without.  This is a fucking set up. It really doesn't matter what you answer.  You will look shallow and self centered with pretty much anything you put there.  But none the less, I was thinking, well, what could I not live with out? The obvious, books and music. Well this is art and to be considered the highest degree of humanity, but to possess it? Well, in theory, although I have a lovely library of books and music, all are replaceable. Isn't that what public libraries are for anyways?  Then we start thinking about "stuff" that occupies our home....wait... a home...oh yah...fucking had to sell that, so I guess that isn't as crucial as upon first thought. By the way...the question was "what 6 things could i NOT live without" not what 6 things would make my life less cynical.  Back to stuff, well stuff is all replaceable, or at least that is the platitude we hand out when somebody's house has been ransacked and things that would see precious are stolen.  Wait, yah, that happened to me too, so I guess the stuff is not really all the crucial either.  Well, art and stuff have been knocked off the list, what is left? Nature, ideas and  people? Extreme environmentalists would have you believe that nature is a non negotiable.  I am tied to nature by the sheer concept of gravity.  Gravity. There is possibly the first thing I think I couldn't live without.  What would keep me tethered to this god forsaken shit hole if gravity didn't?  Now we are delving into the realm of ideas.  We own ideas, share ideas, it is thought that then become validated by some system of belief (or proof). Is it really possible to live without ideas? Not really if you are any kind if sentient pensive individual. Then those ideas get translated into books....and we cycle right back to libraries. So thus far I have 2 things that I could not possibly live without. 1. Gravity (which in some way gets rolled into #2) 2. Thoughts/Ideas.  The more emotional part of this process. People. People. Fucking People. As a mother I suspect that every person who will ever read this will think....you cannot possibly live without your child. If you can, well then you are a shit mother.  Well, hate to break it to you dear reader. I can't live without my child, but as so many many books trying to explain to me how I can't live without hope, also are quick to remind me of how many people have children die. Good people. Nice people. Stupid people. All have children that die for sudden and tragic reasons.  Do those individuals go on in their life? In theory they do. So, god forbid, something were to happen to Thurston, would I commit suicide? No. I would descend into the pits of hell, but ultimately I would go on. From a different perspective, children grow and move on into their own lives. You then no longer talk with them or see them every day. Most people do not even live in the same city as their children, again, do we off ourselves at this point, or go on? At some point I will have to make peace without having my child in my life the way he is now.  Family. I believe that all who might read this post have lost some family to death. Again, same situation applies...we go on.  I don't want my family to die, but it is an inevitability to life.  Friends. Friends come and go. I will not go any deeper than this. If you know me, you know the deep sense of loss I have in this arena that I struggle everyday to make peace with. Are people crucial to our experience? Yes. The sense of connection, the sense of belonging, the sense of acceptance.  As I was running and walking working through this skewed logic, I kept coming back to the idea,  what do I turn to in the worst of times that I have experienced.  What would bring me comfort? The answer actually is pretty simple.  It is two things. 1) Music...very specifically, Tom Waits.  Nothing makes me feel stronger, centered and remember the core of who I am, than when I am listening to Tom Waits.  2) Connection.  The people who I have unwaivering faith in my love for them and theirs for me.  The kind of friendship that has already weathered insane storms, and yet they still are there to say to you all in the same breath "I love you, and you are full of crap.  Fuck the world. Let's go have a drink."

My List:
1) Gravity
3)Tom Waits
4)Deep abiding connection

All the rest falls into those 4 concepts.  How about you? Want to get sucked into this time thought burglar? I assure you contemplate it now before you go to put yourself on an online dating website.

Tuesday, July 3, 2012

Life and how we live it

July 2, 2012 @ 11.35pm Music: Brian Jonestown Masscre

As usual, sleep really should be up on my playlist at the moment, but alas, it is not.
I have not updated my blog lately. I think it has just been to painful to do so.
Writing on the blog makes me think of current risks that I have taken and the toll those risks incur.
Choosing to open your self up to a depth of emotion, to think that it is actually happening, then to be told abruptly that it is NOT. It breeds humility. It breeds introspection. The type of introspection that can be cruel and birth an undercurrent of shame. Then to try to possess the power to fight the shame and fear and  realize the fleeting reality of the situation....It takes its vengeance in my ability to write.  I become lost in the situation, my reaction, my responsibility and I am overwhelmed by my emotion and my inability to control it. So I shut down. I can say I have learned a few important things of late due to my latest foray into love. I have learned that people are strangely attached to hope. That it is sacrosanct to even imply the possibility of living without hope. Hope is a loaded word with mythical meaning that is different for each person. I have learned that, for me, hope is fraught with expectation. I had originally thought that hope and delusion were indistinguishable for me, but that is not the case. It is that I cannot figure out how to separate out expectation from hope.  But, if I change the language just slightly, I can possess what I think many consider hope.  I remain optimistic. I can be optimistic without expectations.  I have learned that I have more tools than I thought I ever had to cope with extreme anxiety.  I can over come the anxiety, and be aware of what my reactions are going to be, and hopefully control those reactions to keep me in a healthier space.  I learned that I have some amazing friends and it is their love and support that make the most difference to me.  Taking the time to reach out. To connect. I am a person where connection is everything. I have come to realize that all too often we rely upon a quick text to replace a real meaningful conversation. The real opportunity to exchange ideas, experiences and challenges.  I work frequently in offices alone or with minimal contact of any real significance with others. I crave the human interaction.  When I don't have that is when I feel my most lonely and vulnerable.

Monday, June 11, 2012


laying here. listening.
my heart grieving and confused.

thinking of how it was your face i yearned for
instead of the one that was present.
realization in that moment made me cry.

i can feel the darkness start to eat me up.
it takes everything in me to view the distant pale light.
hour by hour.

Friday, May 25, 2012

Morning Light

i wake.
this time i slept a few hours.
the beginning of the may gray light creeps in through the barely open window with the late spring cool breeze.
the cool breeze floating over my shoulders takes me to an early morning in kauai.
if i close my eyes i can pretend.
pretend for a scant moment that the breeze is coming in off the water.
pretend the distant traffic is really the sound of the pounding surf.

then i hear a motorcycle or a garbage truck.
my imagination is more adept at this time rather than at night,
when the neighborhood ambient noise is greater.

when i cannot bend my mind to my whimsical will, the ipod goes on.
a different version of my invented reality comes online.
i think of my day.
i think of my problems
i think of my possibilities.

i cover Thurston with a blanket
he has taken to sleeping with no shirt on.
he really is a little man now.

i work to not spin about the interactions  of the previous day&night.
i remind myself of the worst case scenario
which i have already lived through.

this morning i battle my fear again.
despite much to look forward to.
fear derived from trying to read negative meaning in irrelevant details.
i have already lived the worst case scenario.
i do not need to know if there is any meaning.
i can choose to look at what is more concrete rather than the inferred and esoteric.

this may gray holds patience.
this may gray holds control.
this may gray holds restraint.
this may gray burns off
shining into a lucid night.

Tuesday, May 22, 2012

Kicked to the Curb

Presented with new.
Presented with different.
Presented with a moment of bliss.
Presented with deep seated fear.

Where does this fear start?
Will I never know this kind of moment again?
Will I never know this kind of moment again because of actions in my past?
Will I never know this kind of moment again because of my great failings as a person?
To taste it then it is gone as some great cosmic punishment?

Is it possible for somebody to actually enjoy time with me?
Just me, and not what I can do for them?
Support them?
Save them?
Take care of them?

So much fear to take that giant step away from that curb of a paradigm that the only redeeming value I have to another human is only for the day to day tangibles I know I can provide.  At least in that paradigm, I know I am needed and i won't be left.

Don't be quick to judge.  We all have some of these deep seated issues. I just happen to process through my thoughts on them in a forum that is semi public.  Also don't be quick to judge that I can't be alone.  To be alone is actually quite easy. This isn't about being alone but rather not being alone, allowing myself to open up to somebody and letting them in to the degree that I would trust them enough to allow myself to lean on them if needed.  We all know that I would sooner chew off my arm than ask for help and support.  But that too has been changing.  I am trying to trust that people can and want to be there for me, and I am not a failure to ask for it.

I wonder where my fear of abandonment comes from?
I wonder where my lack of intimate, soul shaking trust in others stems from?
I wonder if I will ever be able to figure that out?

I have put my foot out and stepped down off the curb and trying to simply walk away.

Monday, May 21, 2012


For years I dreamed of a Sunday. The kind of Sunday that isn't rushed. A Sunday that is full of definite plans but not written in stone.  The kind of Sunday that is full of sunlight and a reasonable cool breeze.  A Sunday where I am not worried, bored, tired or spun out on life.  I am not sure I remember the last time I had a Sunday of that caliber.

I did yesterday.

For about 8 hours my parents were good enough to watch Thurston, and for a while, I was simply me.  Not Mama. Not Responsible Worker. Not the person who allows herself to put so many things before her own happiness.  Magically,  I did not feel guilt/pain/shame for thinking of myself first.  I did not feel the need to have to check for texts, facebook or phone calls. I had no need. Felt quite full filled. I knew I was missing nothing, as everything that was to be most important, I was already there for.

I was in the moment. I was with a friend and felt as if he wanted to be there laughing with me too. I was there listening and laughing with him instead of listening to the usual battle of insecurities and venom that go at it in my head.  There was no rushing anyplace or rushing through any conversation. Even the occasional silence was not rushed.

This might have been one of those rare moments for me when I just was. I was in the moment. I was mindful. I had no place else I wanted to be. I was not thinking 10 steps ahead. Trying to figure out other plans. If anything good like this might happen again.  Only once did I make mention of Monday, and he reminded me that I could deal with Monday then.  I was grateful for the gentle reminder.

There were even some fears that tried to creep  in at one point, but i kept them at bay.
I told them that they too needed a rest.

My Sunday blew me away. I didn't think those kind of days were available to me anymore. I need to remember I choose to carry around the intense sense of responsibility that I do.  I need to remember I can put that rucksack down from time to time and I will be better for it.

Thursday, May 17, 2012

three ring circus

I am working ridiculously hard to not spin out into my three ring circus.
I can do this.  I can be presented with something amazing and not destroy it.
I can do this.

I can be strong enough to believe in myself.

I don't have to give into the temptations of running through all the hateful things ever told to me or that i have told to myself. I just don't. 

This just might end up being ok.
Even better than ok.
I could think about walking at the beach.
I could think about laughing.
I could think about nervousness and the silly things done to combat it.
The smell of ginger and sugar.

There is only one first date.
There is only one first kiss.

The circus I feel in my head and stomach
will leave given enough time.

I want to just enjoy my own personal circus and the humor that comes from it
rather than the negative disbelief that it has the power to generate.

Tuesday, May 8, 2012

When my reality is all that remains.

Yesterday took a turn that I could not have ever predicted.  I was solid.  Good even.  My weekend had been a mentally peaceful one. So many  concepts that I have been struggling to grasp in my head and thought processes actually came easier this weekend. I went into Monday knowing it had the potential to be a bit of a wacky day, only as my scheduling was mixed up a bit, but nothing I couldn't handle.  In fact, I felt for a moment, I could handle being a single working mom.
Then, everything got turned upside down.  Chris came into the bike shop.  He came in drunk. This I could live with.  Although we have been speaking of late, most of his barriers have remained firmly in tact.  I figured, in that moment, that had not changed. But it had.

After a period of time, he came to talk to me in the office, alone. The office where I fell in love with him. The office where he had attempted 3 years ago to let me into his tortured existence.  He came back into the office to let me in again.

This time.
This time, I am so much stronger.
This time, there was an unveiled cry for help from him.
This time I do not know how to help except to listen and love.
This time I have boundaries and know how to keep them.
This time I am clear about my priorities.

In the end, I watched literally a room full of people who know Chris side step him. I get that he was drunk. I get that it is uncomfortable. Yet none of them offered any basic assistance. He needed to get home.  I made sure that he got home.  I would not let him get into a car and drive in this state.  Same goes for a bike. Yet nobody moved to stop him, except me.  To my knowledge there was only one person in the crowd who had justification to walk away, and it is not mine to discuss.

After I dropped him home, I came back to the shop. People started giving me a hard time in lieu of Chris. I turned to them and said, I step up when a friend is in need. And yes. HE IS MY FRIEND. Good, bad, sober, drunk.  They then changed their tune, telling me that I am a better person than them.  I wasn't looking for accolades. I really didn't want any comments, good or bad.

I know that I can't cure what ails him.  But I can make sure that he doesn't hurt himself or an innocent in the process of trying to figure out how to help himself.  I am remarkably angry at this lack of concern for somebody in our community.  Or even the greater good of the community and not having somebody drunk in control of a vehicle.  Being angry or harsh words do no good in that moment.  They are to be for another time.  That moment was clear. Safety for the individual and others.

It wasn't easy. It wasn't perfect. It definitely isn't pretty. Chris can be hard, abrasive, challenging and yes, even cruel at times.  I have been lucky to see the beauty that lives there too.  Does all of this mean that I turn my back on him, in that moment, when he said he wants help?  I do not know if anything will come of a single moment when somebody says they want help. Maybe, he just needed to tell somebody who will remember. I also have to grasp the concept that there maybe no deeper meaning to his statements.  I have no way to control or predict how this will turn out.  I can't always be there to take Chris home when he gets drunk.  I can only hope this person whom I have loved and in many ways still love figures out how to set himself free.

Sunday, April 29, 2012

New post on Nocturnal Comfort Device


Good times.  Nightmares and sleepwalking have made a return to my night time activities.  I would prefer other activities to these, but apparently my subconscious does not deem it so.  Come on subconscious...I will take a dream where I wake myself up laughing over this...or even a good sex dream.  Well, such is life.  Still trying to figure these ones out. Also hoping that there is not a serious return of sleepwalking to my life.  As I live alone (with young child), worried about this one. May have to put a chair in front of the front door as protection.

Wednesday, April 25, 2012

Another Privacy Issue

I have started after a long hiatus posting on my blog "Nocturnal Comfort Device" again.  Yesterday after having extremely little to no activity, I got 23 hits.  All from Saudi Arabia and India.  I am suspect of this activity, given the last time I saw an increase in activity like this.  I have made the blog private and you have to be added/invited  to see it now.  If you are reading this entry, then I probably have added you to that blog as well.  If you can't get on, then email, text me, call me, facebook me...I will add you.  I am not sure why this freaks me out so much.  I just don't want my blogs being used for suspect reasons.  Maybe I am paranoid?

Wednesday, April 18, 2012

Break thru?

I started this week deep in a state of melancholy.  I have had some respite from it, but struggle to shake it off entirely.  I even had a two hour therapy session on Monday with a level of break through that has left me quite pensive.  Perhaps ultimately I am confusing my thought process with a sense of melancholy. Maybe not though.

As I said, therapy was intense.  My therapist was finally able to verbalize something she had been observing, but struggling to express  in a clear and concise manner.  Basically what she has been trying to figure out how to express...

According to her, I am a perceptive person. A very smart person. An analytic person.  I do not disagree with her on these points.  She went on to say that she has observed that I do become focused on meaning within relationships.  Seeking out greater meaning in words and actions or even inaction of a friend/lover.  I wish I could disagree with her on this, but I know this to be true.  I try to assign meaning to the most trivial of details within my relationships with friends or lovers, men or women.  Certainly situations with certain men will create an insecure mental environment for me and then I attempt even harder to understand all nuances in that situation.

I have been thinking about this quite a bit since we had the conversation.  I have been trying to figure out where this behavior started.  I know that this behavior sits with me, but what situations have honed this over analytic behavior in me?  If I can figure out how it started, maybe I can make peace with it, and start new.  I get that a lot of my relationships with men have basis from the relationship with my father.  I believe in some ways this level of focus on nuance and detail indeed started in this place.  My Dad has this remarkable ability to turn of his emotion.  Most of my friends who met my Dad all would describe him as serious.  He doesn't really leave that serious emotional land very often.  Growing up, especially as a teenager,  I was always trying to get a read on him.  See if maybe the funny, silly Dad might surface.  How far deep was the Dad that I called "Daddy?"

Then I married Jay.  The most emotionally removed and verbally uncommunicative man I have ever met.  Jay really refined many of those skills needed to read and understand non verbal communication.  To survive and try to make the marriage work, I had to become very adept at reading subtleties.  Then came Chris.  His words and actions/body language didn't match.  Insert...this is the point where I start to think that I am going insane and don't trust anything I see.  Then I go even deeper analyzing every action and inaction.

It all MUST mean something.  Something besides the blackest of thoughts I have about how that person sees me at ugly, fat, stupid, or a fool.  I have to glean some understanding for situations that have become complete unknowns.  It must mean something.  I can figure this out.  If I just apply myself and reject ego and insecurity.

Well, I guess now, with my Therapist's help, realizing that yes there is meaning.  But I don't always know, or need to know what that meaning is.  For example, I do not need to figure out what it means if a person takes 6 hours to respond to a text. Or that there is meaning when I go for over 24 hours and receive NO communication from anybody, including family.  There is not always the deeper uglier meaning.

The struggle I have is battling the self spoken negative statement that gets feed in to that space.  I just keep repeating in my head that I don't need to know any deeper meaning.  That most people do not operate on a basis of deeper meaning.  Again, I have to insert at this point....I am envious of those people.  To be able to go through life not giving a crap about unreturned texts or phone calls.  I do all of this to myself.  It isn't Jay or Chris' fault that this has become a coping mechanism for me.  It is up to me to be strong enough to fight this mental game of hopscotch.

Sunday, April 15, 2012

bourgeois melancholy

I infinitely prefer the anxiety, insomnia and elation to the loneliness, boredom and melancholy that currently have hold of my brain. I wish I could be more positive and upbeat.  Just not feeling it.  I have a beautiful child, a kitchen full of food, and my health is good. I get it. My unhappiness is so bourgeois.  Is my emotional response to my life still valid even if the plight of the bourgeois?

Thursday, April 12, 2012

the curtain

Not much to say tonight i suppose.
I am deep in my head and thought processes.
Trying to sort out reality, fantasy and illusion.
Missing people. Although I have no reason to feel lonely this evening, I do a bit.
Tomorrow is a new day.  Perhaps sleep will help to sort the conflicting challenging thoughts.
It is hard to change your perspective. I find myself fighting a battle to go back to what is unhealthy, simply because it is known and comfortable in some ways.
I can be better than that. I want to be better than that.
Anxiety has been less in the last 24 hours.
Retreating into my mental fantasy gives comfort.  It is a place where I can have control, even though it is not real.  Just for a half hour, life looks and feels a way that I wish it was behind the curtain of my eye lids.

Saturday, April 7, 2012

warning: issues with anger? then this post isn't for you, as i am angry at the moment.

04/07/2012 1.28am

I am resorting to listening to dillinger four "civil war"
the music i will scream when i can't think of anything else to do to make the anger go away.

i worked.
i wrote. wrote a lot. with as much consciousness as i could muster.
wrote with honesty and honor
i summoned a huge amount of courage to give the writing of such an intimate nature.
it was a bust. unsure as to when the document can be given.
i am no where closer to any kind of resolution.
should i read meaning into this?
i move towards anger. i wear it like a sweater.
i am angry at the universe. can i have a moment of relief from trying learning processes?
mentally, i am living in limbo.
limbo constructed of ambiguity, confusion and looking in the maw of awful negative interpretation of actions that I simply have no way to know what it means. if there is even any meaning to glean from the actions.

working to control the anger and frustration.
living in the forefront of my brain.
do not react. do nothing that is impulsive.
utilize restraint, even though in some ways it feels like a lie.

i had a beer.
i celebrated a friend's birthday
i spent time with another friend talking of the ocd intricacies of life

i tried to just be

no where near what the fantasy was
no where near what the painful was to be
the anger wasn't supposed to live here today and
definitely not tonight.

i am alone.
tonight i miss having an adult in my bed.
i am angry
i am frustrated
i want to get laid
it has been way too long.
problem...just can't bring myself to have a drunk meaningless fuck.

to honest?
don't like it?
then fuck off.
you probably have had sex more recently than me anyways.

Thursday, April 5, 2012

magic nature sex

san diego canyon
late spring day
santa ana winds
tall sweet grass
pink flannel blanket
resting under trees
plant dreaming deep
laying on chest
eyes half closed
eucalyptus saturates air
hand on hand
body on body
skin on skin
earth swallows us
all i hear
breathing and birds
body is here
brain is here
live here forever
do not stop
slow in suspension
hands on back
arching into joy
warm wind blows
sweat evaporates sweetly
laughing into shoulder
face in hair
breathing in deeply
smell of sex
happiness of moment
quiet life resumes
magic is real

Sunday, April 1, 2012


So this post is unsure. It is not poetic. It is not even really rational, I suppose.  If you read facebook tonight, I am tired, anxious, on the verge of tears and even a little pissed off.  There is so much and nothing that can drive this in me. It is usually in these moments that I do really stupid things that I consider impulsive and then feel shame for the next day.  Well, I haven't really done that today. I have tried to stay on point and get crap done. I am always trying to figure out where these black moods start and how they can end.  I didn't really sleep well last night, and to make it worse, overstimulated and could not stop thinking about a music mix that I have been trying to work on for a while now.  The mix started out for nobody but for myself, but then the other day Anthony at AAB and I were talking about music and realized how much we enjoyed the same kinds of music. He was so awesome and made a rad mix of music and even put it on my ipod for me. I was blown away.  I knew that I wanted to get this wacky set of music to him as well.  That was going to be the one "free" thing I would get to do today. If I have ever given any of you a birthday music cd, know that I put a lot of time and thought into them. I have gone sideways here...anyways, the reality is that today has been productive, but my mind has slipped and gone sideways on me. At some point my focus became anxious intensity. it did not matter whom i spoke with, all carried secret meaning that I could only glean negative from. My old operating behavior would have been to apologize to any and all people that I was in communication with. well lucky for me, or maybe not so lucky, i was in communication with only one person really this afternoon/evening. I tried to keep my communication honest, even if looking at it after the fact seemed to carry more drama than I might have wanted (note i did not say intended).  There is no long or short to this. There is no happy epiphany that comes with this story. I pulled myself away from work. Ate some food. Watched some tv. Was all emo on facebook. Took some tylenol to try to help on some small level. I was able to bring it back down a little bit. I am still very unsure. Unsure if apologies are necessary. I feel like I should, but I believe is simply the compulsion behavior talking, but still feeling unsure. Unsure if I will be able to sleep any better tonight. Unsure as to whether I will listen to the negative banter in my head or the positive banter. Unsure. Some of this is cryptic i realize, but that is how it works sometimes. My hopes are that the person I was speaking with  gets the opportunity to read this and maybe understand my head space. Even if it doesn't seem particularly logical. Even then I am unsure and then i turn fearful. Unsure sucks in this moment. At least in putting this jumble down, I feel my eyelids start to have a heaviness. The standard jazz station also helps especially when they play Brazilian jazz.

Friday, March 30, 2012

stardate -310755.7188891419 (simply a life update)

This post is mostly an update of life for those radiating out from the center of my universe, San Diego. Those that I don't always get the luxury of talking to on a regular basis...  Life continues on and the pace just seems to keep on. Change seems to be constantly afoot.  I am currently sitting at Twiggs, had breakfast, which I would have preferred Ian to cook, but Tony does fine.  Still prefer the mushroom omelet from Ian, sigh.  I digress.  I am listening to a mix of music on my ipod called "messed mental mix."

Mostly of the last couple of weeks, LOTS OF WORK. It is a good thing, but makes me a bit of a nutter as I get close to the end of it.  Again the challenge of learning how to manage life with Thurston and the drive to work all night actually creates more work.  I haven't had too many dreams of late, as I am just plain tired by the end of the day.  I dreamed of chickens last night. And not in a good way either. I woke up a little disturbed and wishing that I could go back to sleep for another couple of hours.

My work at Congregation Beth El is continuing to expand. I like the people I work with, I dislike the mania/drama that surrounds the work.  That will change in time as I get more definitive processes in place that  will in turn, create a sense of stability and continuity for me and my coworkers.  I never ever knew how much drama there could be.  My family thinks I am drama, hold on to your hats folks...very wealthy Jewish congregants are SO DRAMA. It makes me look damn near stoic.  It is a twist on the silliness known as my life.

I continue to be the wendy bird at Adams Ave Bicycles. It still remains the tribe of lost boys. We recently incorporated the team that we have, and I am quite excited that I will be doing the books for the team.  We have (had...olympic now) a junior world champion on our team (Jen Valente) and besides it is this kind of work that makes me happy and feel like I make a small contribution to something fun, different and in its own small way, important.  Besides I know so many people who do race under this flag, it is feels good to support them in a way that I am knowledgeable.  That was apparent at the first board meeting and several of the guys were so enthusiastic in wanting me to handle a variety of work for the team.  Some of these guys are pretty acerbic in their manner, style and words, so it was a huge compliment to me.

I realized recently that I have been in weekly sessions of therapy for a year solid.  The work has been intense and very hard. The progress, well frankly amazing.  The head space that I am in now verses where I was a year ago is remarkable.  I still have extreme rounds of anxiety, I still over analyze everything, I am still drama.  The difference is that I am learning how to not act on all of it.  Trying to respect my feelings, yet temper them, if only by waiting to have reaction/action even if only by 10 minutes.  I am learning control, patience, and restraint.  This is really hard, when many of my behaviors are in reality a form of compulsion. When I do feel like I need to act, I at least try to have a level of honesty about it, and not feel shame for having taken the action.  I also have realized that I don't hate myself as much as I once did.  This is the newest iceberg to start to crack and melt.  I still am fearful of sounding arrogant or having no humility.  I struggle with understanding that you can live without the extremes of this, but I really have only seen the extremes in mostly others and in myself.  I have been examining much about my patterns in relationships with people, and the reasons for those choices.  Again, this work is really hard for me.  I may have a bad day or a bad week, but I get up every day and try again.  I think this stuff is pretty evident in much of the writing that you see here on the blog.

The part perhaps you were all waiting for on baited breathe!!!!  Thurston.  Thurston is doing quite well.  In fact today is the last day of school before we have a four week break.  Thurston's school is year round.  Kindergarten has been a mixed bag. He is doing quite well behaviorally. He makes friends pretty easily.  He is learning to read, basic math etc.  Unfortunately, i recently tried to get him into a private school (that I went to) and as part of the application process they had to do an academic assessment.  It was awful.  He basically failed it.  I know that sounds harsh, but I know no kinder way to put it.  I have sheltered Thurston from the knowledge of this, but I found it devastating.  I feel as though I have failed him. My sisters, who are reading this, know that they have tried to comfort me, give me sound advice regarding education, appropriate developmental levels, the test is not reflective of cognitive abilities etc.  In some ways that does help.  I recently entered into a conversation with yet another private school here in town, and actually discussed having Thurston repeat kindergarten.  I am terrified of him moving forward without the fundamental skills that are needed for the rest of his educational process.  To actually admit that was hard and humiliating. I know that I should not feel that way, but I do.  I am ashamed of the fact that I am that prideful.  My child is an extension of myself still.  I know that separation must occur at some point, but it hasn't happened yet.  It feels as if it is another failure on me in my life.  Even writing this is painful. I have such a smart child, yet he is not excelling in this arena where in theory he should.  I am not really sure why I did as well as I did academically.  I also don't have it in me to do what my parents did to me.  It was so structured and rigid in so many ways. I want Thurston to be more well rounded and adaptable than I am.  Well, all of this with Thurston's education is very much in process.  I will update as I have more information.

You have been quite tolerant with the long update. I don't really write on the blog a lot this way, but well, I feel like writing. I have some really heavy writing that will eventually make it up, but not ready yet for it to be seen.  Oh...one last thing....Been thinking a lot about this lately...If I have told you that I love you. I am telling it to you again right now. When I tell somebody that I love them, it is forever.  Even if we have quarreled and don't speak again, I still love you. In my heart love is transcendent. It is not about sex, or relationships or marriage. Every person whom I have told that I love has a piece of my heart eternally. With that said. I love you.