It's been a quiet ending to this month so far. My dear friend and I made our Halloween tradition visit today, and I said good bye to another place. It's not getting any easier, honestly. The closer I come to actually leaving, the harder everything becomes. This state is difficult and rife with issues, but it's also the land of my birth. It's where all of my greatest childhood memories (and many of the adult ones as well) were created. This is where much of my family is. This is where the places that I've gone for comfort, to cry, and to be happy are. I can visit them when I come here to visit. It's scary to think I won't be able to just jump in the car and go to the overlook at 1am because I need a moment to think, or lace up my sneakers and walk to the cemetery that feels like my own private park. It's also scary to think I won't be able to run to my Mom whenever I need her, or to even see my best friend. Our life together has ended, but we've been able to forge a new relationship. It's not easy seeing him hurting so much, but he is still one of my best friends, and he always will be a part of my family. It may seem like an odd thing to remain close to one's ex, but I've never been one for much normalcy anyway.
Of course, I will be able to put on my sneakers and walk to the bridge. Looking out over the river, I'll be able to remember one of the happiest moments in my life. I'll also be starting my life with my love, and bettering myself.
I've got less than 5 days left here before I go "home". I've got my closet basically cleared, but still the dresser and some packed winter clothes to go through. Then I've got to go through the kitchen and pack the things I need to bring with me initially, as well as a few mementos and decorative things. I wish I could have everything ready to go for when I leave, but I doubt I will. I also need to take the car for an oil change to help its chances of making it there, as well as clean it out. And there are still a few places I need to visit, foods I need to eat, and people I need to hug before I go. Then, it's time to hold my breath and pray the car makes it so that I can jump back into the arms of my Love. Then, it'll be time to prepare for a trip with his family to visit more family. Nothing like jumping out of the frying pan and into the fire right away. I'm looking forward to it, though.
31 October 2010
30 October 2010
Beginnings
Not all that awaits me is an ending. There are a fair few beginnings as well. The one I am most looking forward to is the beginning of my relationship. I have had the honor of being girlfriend to the man of my dreams for almost four months (and friends with him for well over a year prior to that). I know I go on about him a lot, but it's because he makes me so happy. We've been in a long distance relationship this whole time. We have managed to see each other quite a bit, but between those wonderful times, there have been gaps of 3-4 weeks. Next week, the long distance part goes away and we will be in a regular, "Good morning, Honey. How did you sleep?", "What do you want for dinner?" relationship. A walks in the evening, date nights to Mount Washington, Saturday errands, lazy Sunday mornings watching movies and eating pancakes kind of relationship. A nice, normal relationship where I can lie on the couch and read a book while he kills zombies on his Xbox. A regular life where we can cook each other dinner, then burn off the calories in creative and fun ways. There will be concerts, trips out of state to see friends and family, evenings downtown, and other excitement, which I can't wait for. But what I most look forward to in our relationship is falling asleep with him, waking up with him, and living life with him.
He has inspired me to do things I used to love doing. These are things I should have been doing in the first place, but for various reasons I wasn't. It's not that I'm doing these things to impress him or because I feel I need to be more creative to be with him. I've done a lot of drawing, photography, painting, and writing throughout my life and I'd gotten away from it for so many reasons in the past 10 or so years. I've missed all of it so much that doing it again is really making a huge difference in my life.
With this blog, I've attempted to write more than just a day to day stream of feelings and happenings. Some of the entries were inspired by odd things and I tried to make them sort of writing exercises rather than strictly journal entries. There are two, maybe three that I'm actually somewhat happy with. The idea of writing each day has gotten me excited to the point where I've made time to sit down and work on it. I've got a long way to go before I'll be able to write the stories that have lived in my head for so many years, but I'm content with practicing and learning for the time being.
In my little cheap sketch book, there are now two drawings. One is the one I had mentioned several weeks ago, which is shown here. I'm not particularly happy with the right side cliff, and the white are left of center is supposed to be water, but I've been too afraid to attempt to actually draw it. It's likely as done as it's going to be for a while.
The other is a more feminine tree. It's got no background or setting at all, really. It's just a figure. I think if I ever get back into painting, I may attempt to paint her. Or if I ever actually get up enough nerve to attempt to learn Photoshop again, I may try to fix that one. Each of these drawings began as discarded sketches that I went back to several weeks after the fact.
I'm still scared, but I'm also ready. Ready for whatever comes. Ready to stand up and start walking the path.
He has inspired me to do things I used to love doing. These are things I should have been doing in the first place, but for various reasons I wasn't. It's not that I'm doing these things to impress him or because I feel I need to be more creative to be with him. I've done a lot of drawing, photography, painting, and writing throughout my life and I'd gotten away from it for so many reasons in the past 10 or so years. I've missed all of it so much that doing it again is really making a huge difference in my life.
With this blog, I've attempted to write more than just a day to day stream of feelings and happenings. Some of the entries were inspired by odd things and I tried to make them sort of writing exercises rather than strictly journal entries. There are two, maybe three that I'm actually somewhat happy with. The idea of writing each day has gotten me excited to the point where I've made time to sit down and work on it. I've got a long way to go before I'll be able to write the stories that have lived in my head for so many years, but I'm content with practicing and learning for the time being.
In my little cheap sketch book, there are now two drawings. One is the one I had mentioned several weeks ago, which is shown here. I'm not particularly happy with the right side cliff, and the white are left of center is supposed to be water, but I've been too afraid to attempt to actually draw it. It's likely as done as it's going to be for a while.
I'm still scared, but I'm also ready. Ready for whatever comes. Ready to stand up and start walking the path.
29 October 2010
Endings
As I sat on the bus, rolling past the gorgeous farms and hills of Pennsylvania, I thought a lot. When one is on a bus for 8.5 hours alone and prone to motion sickness when attempting to read in a moving vehicle, there's not much of a choice. I thought a lot about a turbulent part of my life which, as of this afternoon, is finally over. But I also thought a lot about other things that aren't over, and likely won't be for a long time (if ever).
Some endings are like Autumn. The leaves are no longer green and living, but they are still beautiful to look back at for just a bit longer. You can still see a semblance of their former glory in their shape and suppleness, but they are dead. Their beauty in death is unrivaled by what they truly looked like in life, but it is a fleeting beauty. A fairly strong breeze can easily tear them from their branch and hurl them to the ground, where they will dry out and turn to dust. They're certainly not forgotten, however. A stroll outside on a late Autumn day. The wind picks them up and swirls them around you like a fiery dance. The air heavy with their scent. One pressed between waxed paper as a memento.
Other endings are raging fires. It begins small, a smoldering ember upon a dried, decaying log. As it is fed, a small flame grows from the glowing coals. The flame crawls along the dead ground to a tree. As it climbs ever higher along the trunk, it gets hotter, and more insistent. The flames reach higher into the sky as they burn the topmost branches. The wind carries the sparks along the forest, igniting ever more as they go. Several smaller fires rush toward each other, an urgent collision course. When finally they meet, they explode upward and outward, a huge dancing mass of pain and destruction. Their union spawns a massive plume of flames high into the air. The pain is excruciating, but necessary. The hope is that it will be put out (or will burn itself out) very quickly. In reality, it can burn for years, unrelenting in its destruction. Your memento of the inferno is the blackened, scarred, and smoking aftermath.
And then there are the endings that don't truly end, but evolve into something different. These can be touchy, painful, but ultimately hold the most hope for personal growth. One is forced to confront the reasons behind the end and truly work through them as part of the evolution. One must also look at what they've done, not just what was done to them. There may never be perfect resolution, but there will always be exploration and discoveries along the way.
Not all situations can be resolved. I dare say an overwhelming majority simply cannot. Some situations cause too much pain, too much rage, to be safe for evolution and must be eradicated. Others are experiences that weren't bad overall, and a bit of wistful looking back is fine. And many are not as clear cut as one or the other, but a mix. One thing is for certain, life happens in cycles. If you've not experienced endings (and the pain, anger, joy, relief, and growth that come along with them), you are not truly human.
I am essentially rootless at this very moment. I don't feel like I'm "from" anywhere just yet. Everything I own is here with me, but every fiber of my being is there waiting for me. There feels like home, but realistically, is it yet? Things need to be packed, sorted, thrown out, given away. Emotions need to be shelved, acknowledged, worked through. No more waiting until the last second in a bid to keep from having to think about, and deal with, the situations at hand. I wish there was a way to do this without causing any pain, but there isn't. Anything worth having is also worth a little pain.I accept mine with no reservations, but I don't enjoy the ripple effect to others. I know what is waiting for me next week and I cannot wait to get back to it, to him. But hanging here right now over this abyss, it looks so far away. Sitting here in this mire, unable to so much as make a list of what needs to be done, I feel the weight of it all on my shoulders. I just can't let this get to me. It's all part of the quest, part of what will strengthen me, what makes me appreciate the light at the end of it. The journey of a thousand miles begins with one step, but it continues with 50,000 or so more. I will reach the goal, but feeling like I've only just begun the journey is still daunting.
Some endings are like Autumn. The leaves are no longer green and living, but they are still beautiful to look back at for just a bit longer. You can still see a semblance of their former glory in their shape and suppleness, but they are dead. Their beauty in death is unrivaled by what they truly looked like in life, but it is a fleeting beauty. A fairly strong breeze can easily tear them from their branch and hurl them to the ground, where they will dry out and turn to dust. They're certainly not forgotten, however. A stroll outside on a late Autumn day. The wind picks them up and swirls them around you like a fiery dance. The air heavy with their scent. One pressed between waxed paper as a memento.
Other endings are raging fires. It begins small, a smoldering ember upon a dried, decaying log. As it is fed, a small flame grows from the glowing coals. The flame crawls along the dead ground to a tree. As it climbs ever higher along the trunk, it gets hotter, and more insistent. The flames reach higher into the sky as they burn the topmost branches. The wind carries the sparks along the forest, igniting ever more as they go. Several smaller fires rush toward each other, an urgent collision course. When finally they meet, they explode upward and outward, a huge dancing mass of pain and destruction. Their union spawns a massive plume of flames high into the air. The pain is excruciating, but necessary. The hope is that it will be put out (or will burn itself out) very quickly. In reality, it can burn for years, unrelenting in its destruction. Your memento of the inferno is the blackened, scarred, and smoking aftermath.
And then there are the endings that don't truly end, but evolve into something different. These can be touchy, painful, but ultimately hold the most hope for personal growth. One is forced to confront the reasons behind the end and truly work through them as part of the evolution. One must also look at what they've done, not just what was done to them. There may never be perfect resolution, but there will always be exploration and discoveries along the way.
Not all situations can be resolved. I dare say an overwhelming majority simply cannot. Some situations cause too much pain, too much rage, to be safe for evolution and must be eradicated. Others are experiences that weren't bad overall, and a bit of wistful looking back is fine. And many are not as clear cut as one or the other, but a mix. One thing is for certain, life happens in cycles. If you've not experienced endings (and the pain, anger, joy, relief, and growth that come along with them), you are not truly human.
I am essentially rootless at this very moment. I don't feel like I'm "from" anywhere just yet. Everything I own is here with me, but every fiber of my being is there waiting for me. There feels like home, but realistically, is it yet? Things need to be packed, sorted, thrown out, given away. Emotions need to be shelved, acknowledged, worked through. No more waiting until the last second in a bid to keep from having to think about, and deal with, the situations at hand. I wish there was a way to do this without causing any pain, but there isn't. Anything worth having is also worth a little pain.I accept mine with no reservations, but I don't enjoy the ripple effect to others. I know what is waiting for me next week and I cannot wait to get back to it, to him. But hanging here right now over this abyss, it looks so far away. Sitting here in this mire, unable to so much as make a list of what needs to be done, I feel the weight of it all on my shoulders. I just can't let this get to me. It's all part of the quest, part of what will strengthen me, what makes me appreciate the light at the end of it. The journey of a thousand miles begins with one step, but it continues with 50,000 or so more. I will reach the goal, but feeling like I've only just begun the journey is still daunting.
26 October 2010
Back to the Quest
For a couple of years, I've been trying to get my life on some sort of path. I've been looking for some sort of goal to work for, an anchor to stop the aimless drift, a tether to guide me back, an inspiration to keep me going.
9 July 2010, a rainy and foggy evening. I drove from a hotel in Harmar, PA toward Pittsburgh. The sky had opened up and I could see very little along the road. It wasn't an optimal condition for driving somewhere I had never been. I still remember my first glimpse of the city. I'd seen the river, some of the bridges, and the hills. I felt a stirring in my chest, and an ease in my mind (despite the weather). But the moment I first saw the skyline, the PPG building, the USX building, it was as if a thread reaching from my breast had made a connection with a thread reaching from the City of Bridges. A tether now ties me to this city. I knew I had found my home. I almost felt this place had welcomed me.
10 July 2010, the sun bright against the sky. I woke up at the hotel, nervous and full of anticipation. That day, I was to meet a man I'd corresponded with for quite a while. We had been emailing, and were friends. I didn't necessarily expect anything to come of it beyond friendship though, in truth, I had thought about it a lot and wondered what it would be like to be with him. We were so much alike and he was such a wonderful person. I was extremely nervous and almost afraid that I may fall for him but he would still see me as a friend. My mom and stepfather came with me, and his friends were with him. As I walked through the parking lot of the zoo toward the entrance where we were to meet, my hands shook a bit and I had no real idea of the significance the next moment was to play in the rest of my life. I began walking up the steps, scanning the crowd for him. The moment I saw him, I felt another thread tear from my chest. I stopped where I was and watched as he talked to his friend. Fear and excitement gripped me. In that moment, I knew that everything I thought I felt for him was real. He started to turn toward where I was standing (and my family had caught up with me at that point) so I began walking again. At the top of those stairs, he hugged me and I kissed his cheek. That was the moment that I knew he was the man I could possibly love for the rest of my life. Through the day, his friends made comments that led me to believe perhaps he felt at least something for me beyond friendship, but I had no idea if that was just my own wishful thinking. For the next 6 hours, I wanted so bad just to hold his hand. Then that blissful and perfect moment on the bridge came, when he told me how he felt. Feelings far beyond happiness flooded me, and that thread that had ripped from me earlier found its connection to him.
The quest was formulated on a rainy night and solidified with a sunset walk over a bridge, and for the past three months and few weeks, I've been working toward the goal of living in this city, inspired and supported by my Love. I've lost things, given things up, and suffered a few minor traumas along the way. I've also gained much, been given glimpses of a wonderful future, and found joys I've not known in far too long. As I stand upon the precipice of the most difficult part of this journey, I know the biggest sacrifices, the hardest goodbyes, and the most work are ahead of me. But lying just beyond that terrifying abyss that I will jump into tomorrow is home in my city, home in my Love's arms. Of course, other challenges await me then as well: Living so far from where I grew up, adjusting to urban living from the old way of the semi-rural suburbs, being away from my family, my friend, and my animals, and finding a job. The quest to get to Pittsburgh will have come to an end, but several new ones will open up. All are part of one greater quest: the quest to make my life what I want it to be. Finding a job, preparing to go to school (then actually doing it), forming a Kindred with the man I love and two people I've come to like and respect very much, studying magic and the runes, learning what I want to learn, and enjoying a wonderful relationship with the most amazing man I've ever known while working with him toward our future. So much else will come up as time goes on, but these will be my immediate focuses.
On one hand, I'm not looking forward to the bus ride to New Jersey. On the other hand, I am looking forward to seeing my family. I am also looking forward to getting over the difficult bumps in the road. It's going to be a hard week to be sure. I'll be saying goodbye to a lot. But I'll also be coming back here to my Love, my city, and my future.
9 July 2010, a rainy and foggy evening. I drove from a hotel in Harmar, PA toward Pittsburgh. The sky had opened up and I could see very little along the road. It wasn't an optimal condition for driving somewhere I had never been. I still remember my first glimpse of the city. I'd seen the river, some of the bridges, and the hills. I felt a stirring in my chest, and an ease in my mind (despite the weather). But the moment I first saw the skyline, the PPG building, the USX building, it was as if a thread reaching from my breast had made a connection with a thread reaching from the City of Bridges. A tether now ties me to this city. I knew I had found my home. I almost felt this place had welcomed me.
10 July 2010, the sun bright against the sky. I woke up at the hotel, nervous and full of anticipation. That day, I was to meet a man I'd corresponded with for quite a while. We had been emailing, and were friends. I didn't necessarily expect anything to come of it beyond friendship though, in truth, I had thought about it a lot and wondered what it would be like to be with him. We were so much alike and he was such a wonderful person. I was extremely nervous and almost afraid that I may fall for him but he would still see me as a friend. My mom and stepfather came with me, and his friends were with him. As I walked through the parking lot of the zoo toward the entrance where we were to meet, my hands shook a bit and I had no real idea of the significance the next moment was to play in the rest of my life. I began walking up the steps, scanning the crowd for him. The moment I saw him, I felt another thread tear from my chest. I stopped where I was and watched as he talked to his friend. Fear and excitement gripped me. In that moment, I knew that everything I thought I felt for him was real. He started to turn toward where I was standing (and my family had caught up with me at that point) so I began walking again. At the top of those stairs, he hugged me and I kissed his cheek. That was the moment that I knew he was the man I could possibly love for the rest of my life. Through the day, his friends made comments that led me to believe perhaps he felt at least something for me beyond friendship, but I had no idea if that was just my own wishful thinking. For the next 6 hours, I wanted so bad just to hold his hand. Then that blissful and perfect moment on the bridge came, when he told me how he felt. Feelings far beyond happiness flooded me, and that thread that had ripped from me earlier found its connection to him.
The quest was formulated on a rainy night and solidified with a sunset walk over a bridge, and for the past three months and few weeks, I've been working toward the goal of living in this city, inspired and supported by my Love. I've lost things, given things up, and suffered a few minor traumas along the way. I've also gained much, been given glimpses of a wonderful future, and found joys I've not known in far too long. As I stand upon the precipice of the most difficult part of this journey, I know the biggest sacrifices, the hardest goodbyes, and the most work are ahead of me. But lying just beyond that terrifying abyss that I will jump into tomorrow is home in my city, home in my Love's arms. Of course, other challenges await me then as well: Living so far from where I grew up, adjusting to urban living from the old way of the semi-rural suburbs, being away from my family, my friend, and my animals, and finding a job. The quest to get to Pittsburgh will have come to an end, but several new ones will open up. All are part of one greater quest: the quest to make my life what I want it to be. Finding a job, preparing to go to school (then actually doing it), forming a Kindred with the man I love and two people I've come to like and respect very much, studying magic and the runes, learning what I want to learn, and enjoying a wonderful relationship with the most amazing man I've ever known while working with him toward our future. So much else will come up as time goes on, but these will be my immediate focuses.
On one hand, I'm not looking forward to the bus ride to New Jersey. On the other hand, I am looking forward to seeing my family. I am also looking forward to getting over the difficult bumps in the road. It's going to be a hard week to be sure. I'll be saying goodbye to a lot. But I'll also be coming back here to my Love, my city, and my future.
25 October 2010
Conflict: May it End Now
The weekend went really well. His friends that I was meeting for the first time were great. Our friends who will be forming the Kindred with us are also great people. The six of us had a great time on Friday night and stayed up until after 3am. Our Kindred folk stayed until early Saturday afternoon, then were back on the road again. The rest of us went to a small zombie event at the Monroeville Mall, which is where Dawn of the Dead was filmed. We had dinner at the pub which was, as usual, delicious. I even got to have my pumpkin ale, which was the best I've ever had. It was a long weekend, but a good one. Once everyone was gone, we relaxed and had a great evening.
I'm going back later this week for a little while. While I'm there, I'm going to get my things packed and my car checked to make sure it will make it back here. If not, I'm going to have to get creative with packing and shipping stuff, then take the train or bus again. I'm just ready for it all to be done. This limbo is getting old. It's almost over, but I'm getting impatient.
I'm hoping the drama is over now. I seem to have lost a friend I considered to be one of my best, as well as several acquaintances. It seems like people would rather listen to the dramatic routine than make up their own minds, or even ask me what is going on. It's hard, but honestly a small price to pay for peace. The center of this is something no longer worth my time, thought, or concern. I'm sure I'll be the notorious villain for years to come, much like all of the other former friends. It doesn't really matter, because after this, I'm done worrying about it, other than to remember the lesson learned. I've got friends I can trust, friends that won't force me to relive traumatic events for their own entertainment, and friends who genuinely appreciate me and who I am (instead of who they want me to be).
I'm tired of disbelieving people who compliment me, like having me around, or tell me I'm a good person. I like the idea of people wanting me around, not for what I can do for them, but because we have a good time together. I want to enjoy peoples' company without worrying what's going to be said later. And I wan to have conversations with people who value what I say and don't behave like they're smarter than everyone else. There are people who are happy to be followers, but I'd prefer to spend my time with people secure enough to teach AND learn. So, I'm good now.
That is the last time I let that subject creep in and touch my future. I'm looking ahead. In about two weeks, I'll be living here. Hopefully, I'll have a job not long after that so I won't have to worry about money and the holidays. I'm ready for the challenge.
It's taken me a while to get even this much written. I'm feeling kind of tired and weird, and I'd rather be processing the thoughts in my head right now.
I'm going back later this week for a little while. While I'm there, I'm going to get my things packed and my car checked to make sure it will make it back here. If not, I'm going to have to get creative with packing and shipping stuff, then take the train or bus again. I'm just ready for it all to be done. This limbo is getting old. It's almost over, but I'm getting impatient.
I'm hoping the drama is over now. I seem to have lost a friend I considered to be one of my best, as well as several acquaintances. It seems like people would rather listen to the dramatic routine than make up their own minds, or even ask me what is going on. It's hard, but honestly a small price to pay for peace. The center of this is something no longer worth my time, thought, or concern. I'm sure I'll be the notorious villain for years to come, much like all of the other former friends. It doesn't really matter, because after this, I'm done worrying about it, other than to remember the lesson learned. I've got friends I can trust, friends that won't force me to relive traumatic events for their own entertainment, and friends who genuinely appreciate me and who I am (instead of who they want me to be).
I'm tired of disbelieving people who compliment me, like having me around, or tell me I'm a good person. I like the idea of people wanting me around, not for what I can do for them, but because we have a good time together. I want to enjoy peoples' company without worrying what's going to be said later. And I wan to have conversations with people who value what I say and don't behave like they're smarter than everyone else. There are people who are happy to be followers, but I'd prefer to spend my time with people secure enough to teach AND learn. So, I'm good now.
That is the last time I let that subject creep in and touch my future. I'm looking ahead. In about two weeks, I'll be living here. Hopefully, I'll have a job not long after that so I won't have to worry about money and the holidays. I'm ready for the challenge.
It's taken me a while to get even this much written. I'm feeling kind of tired and weird, and I'd rather be processing the thoughts in my head right now.
22 October 2010
Unexpected Guests, Unexpected Thoughts
We knew this weekend was going to be busy. Two of his friends were coming today, and two others were coming tomorrow. It turns out all four will be here today. We've been joking that he's going to be Clark Griswold for the weekend. It may be hectic, but it's going to be fun. These are some of his best friends, under one roof. With mead! I'm a bit nervous, but I'm looking forward to it.
It does make me think about how few people are in my life. I've met two of our visitors already, as well as his family. There are still several friends to meet, as well as lots of family. In November, I'll be meeting a large chunk of his family. The thing is, he's already met just about everyone important in my life. He met my mother and my step-father, my cousin, and two of my friends. I'd like him to meet the tribe, but that's not as important. My brother and nieces are the only ones left who are important that he meet someday. I'll not be having many people come to visit me here, nor will I have many people to visit back there. On one hand, it feels kind of lonely. I do miss the big family holidays and parties with friends. But, on the other hand, I do have some quality people in my life, and I do love spending the evenings watching movies, just him and me. This, combined with the time of year, makes me keenly aware of those I've lost. It also makes me fear losing anyone else.
But I have had some unexpected visitors of my own the past few nights, in that some of my old dream "friends" have returned to a certain extent. I had a dream that has been recurring since I can remember, though it's been a great many years since they've visited. My guardians and the ring of fire seem to come along when I'm on the verge of something major. They've never been bad omens, or even good omens, just there. The other one, I've not seen in at least twenty years, but he didn't come in his usual way. I suspect the reason for that is because I've been sleeping next to my love, which I think is a sort of protection. I've never known his purpose or what he wants, other than to scare me. Honestly, I don't know if he was ever trying to menace me, or if it just happened that way (his way tends to be a bit terrifying for a young girl, or an old one for that matter). He may be a bit like the ghost of Christmas yet to come, or he may be something with ill intentions. Regardless, I'm unsure what he wants and I'm a bit bothered by that. Combined with the fact that he did frighten me and must've known it (and may well again if he starts coming the way he used to), and some other weird dreams I've had lately, I'm somewhat ill at ease.
I've got about 4-5 more days here before it's time to go back. I'll only be gone about ten days this time, but I'm not especially looking forward to it. I do, however, want to give my love some time to himself before I'm back indefinitely. But what I need to do is take this all out of my mind for the evening, because I'm spending it with my love and some (hopefully) new friends. We're going to a great place to eat and drink, and who knows what kind of fun we'll come up with for the rest of the evening. It'll be a great time.
It does make me think about how few people are in my life. I've met two of our visitors already, as well as his family. There are still several friends to meet, as well as lots of family. In November, I'll be meeting a large chunk of his family. The thing is, he's already met just about everyone important in my life. He met my mother and my step-father, my cousin, and two of my friends. I'd like him to meet the tribe, but that's not as important. My brother and nieces are the only ones left who are important that he meet someday. I'll not be having many people come to visit me here, nor will I have many people to visit back there. On one hand, it feels kind of lonely. I do miss the big family holidays and parties with friends. But, on the other hand, I do have some quality people in my life, and I do love spending the evenings watching movies, just him and me. This, combined with the time of year, makes me keenly aware of those I've lost. It also makes me fear losing anyone else.
But I have had some unexpected visitors of my own the past few nights, in that some of my old dream "friends" have returned to a certain extent. I had a dream that has been recurring since I can remember, though it's been a great many years since they've visited. My guardians and the ring of fire seem to come along when I'm on the verge of something major. They've never been bad omens, or even good omens, just there. The other one, I've not seen in at least twenty years, but he didn't come in his usual way. I suspect the reason for that is because I've been sleeping next to my love, which I think is a sort of protection. I've never known his purpose or what he wants, other than to scare me. Honestly, I don't know if he was ever trying to menace me, or if it just happened that way (his way tends to be a bit terrifying for a young girl, or an old one for that matter). He may be a bit like the ghost of Christmas yet to come, or he may be something with ill intentions. Regardless, I'm unsure what he wants and I'm a bit bothered by that. Combined with the fact that he did frighten me and must've known it (and may well again if he starts coming the way he used to), and some other weird dreams I've had lately, I'm somewhat ill at ease.
I've got about 4-5 more days here before it's time to go back. I'll only be gone about ten days this time, but I'm not especially looking forward to it. I do, however, want to give my love some time to himself before I'm back indefinitely. But what I need to do is take this all out of my mind for the evening, because I'm spending it with my love and some (hopefully) new friends. We're going to a great place to eat and drink, and who knows what kind of fun we'll come up with for the rest of the evening. It'll be a great time.
21 October 2010
Cleaning Up
I've be doing a lot of cleaning this week in every sense of the word. Mostly, I've been doing the traditional dusting, scrubbing, laundry, and straightening up. We've got company coming this weekend and I want everything to look okay (especially since I'm meeting someone who is a very big deal in my love's life and I want to make a good impression).
I've been doing a bit of emotional (and social) cleaning up as well. I don't want to taint this new life with the old sludge, but I feel like I'm running away from things, which feels like utter weakness to me. I also wonder if I even have the right to feel this way. Surely, it must've been something I did. All others are innocent. But then I remember how I felt, and still feel whenever my dealings include them: anxiety, self-doubt, guilt, pain, the list goes on. I've nothing left to make amends for, and I'll never get it from them. So, instead of torturing myself further, I have to cut ties. To be honest, it also felt good to hit that little "remove from friends" button. Childish? Perhaps. But it calmed the rage I was feeling just a bit, and it was more grown-up than starting the social networking public flame war that was my first stifled instinct.
Stifled... that word has come up twice today in relation to me. After a while, no one ever had to put me in a corner, because I always voluntarily hid there. I'm sick of being in the bloody corner! My love and I have one problem, and that is indecision. It's minor in relation to other things that could be wrong, but it's still an issue. I'm walking over to that corner, while he is tearing at my sleeve trying to pull me out and into the middle of the room so we can do the big damn lift in front of everyone, to the tune of "(I've Had) The Time Of My Life"! It's not about where we eat, what we watch, or anything like that. It's about the fact that I've become so afraid to assert myself, make a decision, or ask for what I'd like, that my mind basically shuts down when faced with making any sort of decision. So there I sit, vague little flashes of what I want flitting through my brain. When I reach up to grab one, they all scatter like butterflies, and I'm left with nothing. When I'm by myself, this turns into two hours of trying to think, until I fall back on an old standard. When I'm with most other people, they're more than happy to do whatever they want. He and I are a partnership. If his arm slips during that big lift, I'll faceplant on the ground. If my weight shifts wrong, his back goes out and down he goes. The jazzy metaphors aside, this life is all new to me. I'm used to having to take the lead on the important things, while the minor decisions are not mine to make. I've aways wanted nothing more than someone who would work with me on all facets of life. I've got a man like that in my life now, and yet I can't seem to get it right.
I'm still haunted by so many things, to the point that I spent a good part of today angry, hurt, and sad. I've got to exorcise the ghosts of the past and stop letting them get back in. I've got to sweep the cobwebs away and allow myself to be the woman I want to, and need to be. I need to finish doing what I need to do, then walk and clear my head a bit.
I've been doing a bit of emotional (and social) cleaning up as well. I don't want to taint this new life with the old sludge, but I feel like I'm running away from things, which feels like utter weakness to me. I also wonder if I even have the right to feel this way. Surely, it must've been something I did. All others are innocent. But then I remember how I felt, and still feel whenever my dealings include them: anxiety, self-doubt, guilt, pain, the list goes on. I've nothing left to make amends for, and I'll never get it from them. So, instead of torturing myself further, I have to cut ties. To be honest, it also felt good to hit that little "remove from friends" button. Childish? Perhaps. But it calmed the rage I was feeling just a bit, and it was more grown-up than starting the social networking public flame war that was my first stifled instinct.
Stifled... that word has come up twice today in relation to me. After a while, no one ever had to put me in a corner, because I always voluntarily hid there. I'm sick of being in the bloody corner! My love and I have one problem, and that is indecision. It's minor in relation to other things that could be wrong, but it's still an issue. I'm walking over to that corner, while he is tearing at my sleeve trying to pull me out and into the middle of the room so we can do the big damn lift in front of everyone, to the tune of "(I've Had) The Time Of My Life"! It's not about where we eat, what we watch, or anything like that. It's about the fact that I've become so afraid to assert myself, make a decision, or ask for what I'd like, that my mind basically shuts down when faced with making any sort of decision. So there I sit, vague little flashes of what I want flitting through my brain. When I reach up to grab one, they all scatter like butterflies, and I'm left with nothing. When I'm by myself, this turns into two hours of trying to think, until I fall back on an old standard. When I'm with most other people, they're more than happy to do whatever they want. He and I are a partnership. If his arm slips during that big lift, I'll faceplant on the ground. If my weight shifts wrong, his back goes out and down he goes. The jazzy metaphors aside, this life is all new to me. I'm used to having to take the lead on the important things, while the minor decisions are not mine to make. I've aways wanted nothing more than someone who would work with me on all facets of life. I've got a man like that in my life now, and yet I can't seem to get it right.
I'm still haunted by so many things, to the point that I spent a good part of today angry, hurt, and sad. I've got to exorcise the ghosts of the past and stop letting them get back in. I've got to sweep the cobwebs away and allow myself to be the woman I want to, and need to be. I need to finish doing what I need to do, then walk and clear my head a bit.
19 October 2010
The Faith Journey
In my 33 years, the question of faith has always been there to varying degrees. I was baptized Catholic due to the insistence of an overly paranoid grandparent. My parents were young, and it didn't particularly matter to them either way. I did not grow up in the Catholic faith, though. My mother never forced me into Sunday school, I didn't have a communion, and the only times I went to church were for weddings and funerals (and that one Christmas Eve Midnight Mass when my grandfather smacked me upside my head for not kneeling and doing the sign of the cross when entering the pew, the thought of which makes me giggle to this day). I knew what the holidays we celebrated symbolized in the generic Christian culture we lived by, but we celebrated more the secular parts of them: family, generosity, joy, and fun.
But regardless of this, I always had faith. My Mom taught me that "God" was in everything; the trees, the oceans, the wind, the world's creatures. I sat outside and listened to the melting snow dripping into a stream, or the whistle of a bird, and that was the divine speaking through nature's music. I walked through the woods and saw the flame of Autumn licking the treetops, or the tulips pushing through the cold ground to bloom, that was the deities manifesting themselves. The scent of fallen leaves or fresh cut grass, the perfume of the Heavens. The wind gently tugging at my hair, the rain cooling my upturned face was the Gods themselves touching me. I knew the feel of the Day-Gods, and the different feel of the Night-Gods. Looking skyward as the sun retired her daily hold on the earth, I knew the spectacular colors were the herald of something just as important. When the night came, so did the stars. The mysteries shrouded in the darkness were not to be feared, but to be embraced. Some were meant to be solved, while most were not ours to know. I spent many nights watching the stars, the way they twinkled, seeing their different colors, and if I was lucky, seeing some of them streak across the sky in a shower of sparks. In my early 20's, I saw an aurora. Where I live is usually way too far south to see such a thing, but this was during a peak in the sun cycle, so I was fortunate. As I saw the building shimmer of red on the horizon, I squealed like a child and dragged several people outside so I could share this rare treasure with them. It continues to be one of the most beautiful things I've seen.
At a young age, I didn't have a name for them, or an idea of what it all meant, but I knew there was far more to it than simply what could be seen. The universe and the earth were sweet mysteries I was content to work a lifetime at understanding. As I aged, I learned more about the world and various faiths, but nothing I was learning about felt right. I still was able to sit outside on a snow-covered winter afternoon and know the Gods were there in the ethereal silence, the glittering blindness, the clean smell, and the wet chill. It didn't matter to me that I didn't know their names, they were there. I didn't know how to properly thank them for everything, so I just spoke it. "Thank you for this beautiful day", I'd say, mist pouring from my mouth with every word.
Getting older, I thirsted for more and more knowledge. To some extent, this began to taint the simple faith I held my entire life. Who whispered those nearly imperceptible words to me? Is it appropriate to speak to trees in the woods? Rather than just reveling in it all, I questioned why? whom? how? I stumbled upon witchcraft and Paganism for the first time in high school. It felt like the right neighborhood, but the wrong house. Because of the strong nature aspects, I decided to study it a bit and see how it felt. Some things made a lot of sense, but others still didn't fit. It's close enough, I would reason to myself. I became a very casual solitary practitioner for a long time.
As is typical of lost innocence, I began to feel self-conscious and questioned myself, so I began looking for others. Eventually, I found a local group of Pagans. This began a good, and horrible period of my life. I learned a lot about myself, faith in general, the Pagan faith, and people. I had a lot of life-changing experiences and my trust in my own abilities grew. I also became more open to things and energy around me. I was instrumental in creating a Coven, and was in a position to help a lot of people. The downside is that I learned some hard lessons about betrayal, selfishness, and the darkness that can dwell within mankind. My life was thrown into spinning chaos due to the actions of some people, along with my own ignorance and lack of confidence. While I try my hardest to remember the good parts of that time in my life, I can't help but look back more often than not with bitterness.
There are two life-changing upsides to that period of my life. First, I was exposed for the first time to Heathenry (or Germanic Paganism). And with that, I found the right house! It took me a while to embrace it fully, but once I did, I found all of the missing pieces I had been looking for. It's not been an easy road and honesty, I almost walked away a few times, but I've managed to sort out the important parts from the mire. The second is what I am doing now. Without many of the betrayals and the aftermath of chaos, I would have gone on as I was, ignorant of the best (and worst) of what the world had to offer. I wouldn't have found my love, this city, or myself.
I almost lost faith in the past few years. It felt tainted and dirty because of things that had happened, people and groups I'd met, and being a part of things I didn't believe in. When the worst of the betrayals happened, I wondered how the Gods could allow such things to go on in the world. I had allowed my faith to get too entwined with people and groups and evens and... trappings. I couldn't think about faith without thinking about the bad things that had happened.
One day, I'd had enough. It was even before I knew the worst of things, but I started to realise that things were over in many ways. It was a cold January day. I had a fight with my now-ex. Looking at him brought me such unbearable pain, that I had to flee. I ran outside and began walking. There was snow on the ground already, and more was falling. For the first time, I walked the path that has now become familiar to me. I walked to the bridge and stopped to admire the small river flowing below my feet. I closed my eyes and listened to the sound of the snow hitting the ground and the river flowing over the rocks. Nature's music had returned to me again! I saw divinity in the silvery snow atop the stones, and the dormant trees! I breathed in scent of the water, the earth and distant wood-smoke, the perfume of the Heavens! And as the cool wind whipped stinging snowflakes against my cheeks, I felt the touch of the Gods yet again! My faith had been reset back to the simplicity of the old days and it helped me to rebuild in in my own way. I was older and wiser, but in that moment, I remembered the important things.
Now, I know better. I try to live my faith every day. I am more picky about whom I let into that part of my life. I felt from the beginning that my love was someone I could likely share and live my faith with. In the past few days, we have finally been able practice together for the first time. On Sunday night when we celebrated Winternights, I watched him prepare the blòt and I felt much as I do when watching a particularly wonderful sunset. I felt it all building and knew that this was a harbinger of a wonderful thing to come. When he presided over the feast, I witnessed so many wonders. In his words, I heard the winds from the North. In his eyes, I saw the gathering storm of energy. In his hands, I felt the touch of divinity. In that moment, I realised that I had found someone to truly share my faith with. With him, it is no longer just MINE, but OURS! I saw a flash of our future, but I also felt my own heart and and faith burning stronger than it has since I was just a child hearing the Gods speak to me for the first time. I don't have to ensconce it within my breast to keep it safe from him, I can lay it bare before him! Before that night, I loved him more than I ever thought possible. Now, there is an even further depth to my love for him. That first blòt was like the first time I saw him, the first time I kissed him, the first time we made love. It changed my life in ways I never could have imagined before.
My faith was firm before. Now it is enhanced in that I have someone to truly share it with, no strings, no drama, and no fakeness.
But regardless of this, I always had faith. My Mom taught me that "God" was in everything; the trees, the oceans, the wind, the world's creatures. I sat outside and listened to the melting snow dripping into a stream, or the whistle of a bird, and that was the divine speaking through nature's music. I walked through the woods and saw the flame of Autumn licking the treetops, or the tulips pushing through the cold ground to bloom, that was the deities manifesting themselves. The scent of fallen leaves or fresh cut grass, the perfume of the Heavens. The wind gently tugging at my hair, the rain cooling my upturned face was the Gods themselves touching me. I knew the feel of the Day-Gods, and the different feel of the Night-Gods. Looking skyward as the sun retired her daily hold on the earth, I knew the spectacular colors were the herald of something just as important. When the night came, so did the stars. The mysteries shrouded in the darkness were not to be feared, but to be embraced. Some were meant to be solved, while most were not ours to know. I spent many nights watching the stars, the way they twinkled, seeing their different colors, and if I was lucky, seeing some of them streak across the sky in a shower of sparks. In my early 20's, I saw an aurora. Where I live is usually way too far south to see such a thing, but this was during a peak in the sun cycle, so I was fortunate. As I saw the building shimmer of red on the horizon, I squealed like a child and dragged several people outside so I could share this rare treasure with them. It continues to be one of the most beautiful things I've seen.
At a young age, I didn't have a name for them, or an idea of what it all meant, but I knew there was far more to it than simply what could be seen. The universe and the earth were sweet mysteries I was content to work a lifetime at understanding. As I aged, I learned more about the world and various faiths, but nothing I was learning about felt right. I still was able to sit outside on a snow-covered winter afternoon and know the Gods were there in the ethereal silence, the glittering blindness, the clean smell, and the wet chill. It didn't matter to me that I didn't know their names, they were there. I didn't know how to properly thank them for everything, so I just spoke it. "Thank you for this beautiful day", I'd say, mist pouring from my mouth with every word.
Getting older, I thirsted for more and more knowledge. To some extent, this began to taint the simple faith I held my entire life. Who whispered those nearly imperceptible words to me? Is it appropriate to speak to trees in the woods? Rather than just reveling in it all, I questioned why? whom? how? I stumbled upon witchcraft and Paganism for the first time in high school. It felt like the right neighborhood, but the wrong house. Because of the strong nature aspects, I decided to study it a bit and see how it felt. Some things made a lot of sense, but others still didn't fit. It's close enough, I would reason to myself. I became a very casual solitary practitioner for a long time.
As is typical of lost innocence, I began to feel self-conscious and questioned myself, so I began looking for others. Eventually, I found a local group of Pagans. This began a good, and horrible period of my life. I learned a lot about myself, faith in general, the Pagan faith, and people. I had a lot of life-changing experiences and my trust in my own abilities grew. I also became more open to things and energy around me. I was instrumental in creating a Coven, and was in a position to help a lot of people. The downside is that I learned some hard lessons about betrayal, selfishness, and the darkness that can dwell within mankind. My life was thrown into spinning chaos due to the actions of some people, along with my own ignorance and lack of confidence. While I try my hardest to remember the good parts of that time in my life, I can't help but look back more often than not with bitterness.
There are two life-changing upsides to that period of my life. First, I was exposed for the first time to Heathenry (or Germanic Paganism). And with that, I found the right house! It took me a while to embrace it fully, but once I did, I found all of the missing pieces I had been looking for. It's not been an easy road and honesty, I almost walked away a few times, but I've managed to sort out the important parts from the mire. The second is what I am doing now. Without many of the betrayals and the aftermath of chaos, I would have gone on as I was, ignorant of the best (and worst) of what the world had to offer. I wouldn't have found my love, this city, or myself.
I almost lost faith in the past few years. It felt tainted and dirty because of things that had happened, people and groups I'd met, and being a part of things I didn't believe in. When the worst of the betrayals happened, I wondered how the Gods could allow such things to go on in the world. I had allowed my faith to get too entwined with people and groups and evens and... trappings. I couldn't think about faith without thinking about the bad things that had happened.
One day, I'd had enough. It was even before I knew the worst of things, but I started to realise that things were over in many ways. It was a cold January day. I had a fight with my now-ex. Looking at him brought me such unbearable pain, that I had to flee. I ran outside and began walking. There was snow on the ground already, and more was falling. For the first time, I walked the path that has now become familiar to me. I walked to the bridge and stopped to admire the small river flowing below my feet. I closed my eyes and listened to the sound of the snow hitting the ground and the river flowing over the rocks. Nature's music had returned to me again! I saw divinity in the silvery snow atop the stones, and the dormant trees! I breathed in scent of the water, the earth and distant wood-smoke, the perfume of the Heavens! And as the cool wind whipped stinging snowflakes against my cheeks, I felt the touch of the Gods yet again! My faith had been reset back to the simplicity of the old days and it helped me to rebuild in in my own way. I was older and wiser, but in that moment, I remembered the important things.
Now, I know better. I try to live my faith every day. I am more picky about whom I let into that part of my life. I felt from the beginning that my love was someone I could likely share and live my faith with. In the past few days, we have finally been able practice together for the first time. On Sunday night when we celebrated Winternights, I watched him prepare the blòt and I felt much as I do when watching a particularly wonderful sunset. I felt it all building and knew that this was a harbinger of a wonderful thing to come. When he presided over the feast, I witnessed so many wonders. In his words, I heard the winds from the North. In his eyes, I saw the gathering storm of energy. In his hands, I felt the touch of divinity. In that moment, I realised that I had found someone to truly share my faith with. With him, it is no longer just MINE, but OURS! I saw a flash of our future, but I also felt my own heart and and faith burning stronger than it has since I was just a child hearing the Gods speak to me for the first time. I don't have to ensconce it within my breast to keep it safe from him, I can lay it bare before him! Before that night, I loved him more than I ever thought possible. Now, there is an even further depth to my love for him. That first blòt was like the first time I saw him, the first time I kissed him, the first time we made love. It changed my life in ways I never could have imagined before.
My faith was firm before. Now it is enhanced in that I have someone to truly share it with, no strings, no drama, and no fakeness.
18 October 2010
Settling Into Happiness
I've been here for a bit more than a week now. I've still got about a week more to go before I need to go back again. This time, though I won't be gone long before I am here again. There is still the fear that it will take a long time to find a job, the knowledge that I'll miss my family and the places I love back there, and the adjustment to a new place.
But since I've been here, I fall asleep in my love's arms. I find myself waking up at night and just to watch him sleep. Even watching a movie together is like a totally new experience. Yesterday was a wonderfully lazy Sunday. We spent most of it in our pajamas watching television, including Christmas Vacation! We also cooked for Wintenights, which I will discuss tomorrow. After all of that, he played a game, while I spent the evening making Hallowe'en decorations with construction paper and a glue stick. We were doing different things, but we were in the same room together. I looked over at him several times and was filled with joy, just because he was there. Few things compare to the joy of touching him, but having him near me is pretty far up the list, too.
When we were apart, I looked at this picture several times a day. I could remember how it felt to kiss him, and I longed for it so much. Being here with him, having him share himself with me, and being able to share so much with him has been complete happiness. Being home in our city together is exactly where I am happiest, and where I want to be more than anywhere else. When I wake up and have a nightmare, he is there to chase them away. When he is working on something and asks my opinion, it feels like he is sharing his passions with me.
My love, he is an artist. This past week, he created a new piece. He shared each step with me, allowed me to watch him work, and I had the honor of being the first person to see the completed piece. I've always thought he was a wonderfully talented artist, and watching someone create like he does was an amazing experience. On the other side of that, watching the man I love doing something that he loves is something I hope I am fortunate to see again many times over in the future. I am a huge fan of his art (which can be found here) and loved seeing what goes into a piece.
Beyond my love, just being in the city has been a wonderful thing. I was riding the bus myself last week. Every time it stopped at the college, I got more excited about attending. I saw the students walking around, I wanted to be one of them. I hope that, by this time next year, I will be. Beginning my studies after so many years is something that will make others proud, but it is probably the one thing I want most for myself in the whole world. Luckily, I have time regarding a major (as well as the option of starting undeclared). Something pertaining to books and literature sounds very attractive now as an associate's degree. And the idea of religious studies, even if as a minor, is attractive as well.
It's likely that the first wave of my stuff, the important things, will be here by the first week of November. I can't wait to be a resident of this new place, and this new life, officially. I'm confident about my future, I'm happy with my present, and I'll work through any adversity that may come up. I've learned a woman's strength, and I've seen it in action. I'm ready to test my strength, and to live it. I'm ready to live my life and enjoy the present. I' ready to continue working toward the future.
I'm learning what it's like to be happy, and I'm settling into it quite nicely. If I'm honest, the entire concept still scares the life out of me sometimes and I find myself wondering how it is I deserve this life, the love of such a wonderful man, the promise of such a great future, all of it. I allow myself some of these doubts now and again, because I know that working through these things will only make me stronger and better able to deal with what happens. It's been a hard road, but it made me into what I am now. The road will never end, and each scar, divot, and pothole serves a purpose. I just need remember not to fall into them and, if I do, to stand back up and keep walking.
But since I've been here, I fall asleep in my love's arms. I find myself waking up at night and just to watch him sleep. Even watching a movie together is like a totally new experience. Yesterday was a wonderfully lazy Sunday. We spent most of it in our pajamas watching television, including Christmas Vacation! We also cooked for Wintenights, which I will discuss tomorrow. After all of that, he played a game, while I spent the evening making Hallowe'en decorations with construction paper and a glue stick. We were doing different things, but we were in the same room together. I looked over at him several times and was filled with joy, just because he was there. Few things compare to the joy of touching him, but having him near me is pretty far up the list, too.
My love, he is an artist. This past week, he created a new piece. He shared each step with me, allowed me to watch him work, and I had the honor of being the first person to see the completed piece. I've always thought he was a wonderfully talented artist, and watching someone create like he does was an amazing experience. On the other side of that, watching the man I love doing something that he loves is something I hope I am fortunate to see again many times over in the future. I am a huge fan of his art (which can be found here) and loved seeing what goes into a piece.
Beyond my love, just being in the city has been a wonderful thing. I was riding the bus myself last week. Every time it stopped at the college, I got more excited about attending. I saw the students walking around, I wanted to be one of them. I hope that, by this time next year, I will be. Beginning my studies after so many years is something that will make others proud, but it is probably the one thing I want most for myself in the whole world. Luckily, I have time regarding a major (as well as the option of starting undeclared). Something pertaining to books and literature sounds very attractive now as an associate's degree. And the idea of religious studies, even if as a minor, is attractive as well.
It's likely that the first wave of my stuff, the important things, will be here by the first week of November. I can't wait to be a resident of this new place, and this new life, officially. I'm confident about my future, I'm happy with my present, and I'll work through any adversity that may come up. I've learned a woman's strength, and I've seen it in action. I'm ready to test my strength, and to live it. I'm ready to live my life and enjoy the present. I' ready to continue working toward the future.
I'm learning what it's like to be happy, and I'm settling into it quite nicely. If I'm honest, the entire concept still scares the life out of me sometimes and I find myself wondering how it is I deserve this life, the love of such a wonderful man, the promise of such a great future, all of it. I allow myself some of these doubts now and again, because I know that working through these things will only make me stronger and better able to deal with what happens. It's been a hard road, but it made me into what I am now. The road will never end, and each scar, divot, and pothole serves a purpose. I just need remember not to fall into them and, if I do, to stand back up and keep walking.
14 October 2010
Monster
I get inspired now and again by odd little things. This time, it was a remark my mother made during a conversation we were having. She mentioned the Bee Girl from the Blind Mellon video for No Rain. The idea behind the comment is that it we are like the girl, and wouldn't it be nice to find a place where there were others like ourselves. It got me thinking about some other songs that, through my life, have meant something to me (good and bad).
November Spawned a Monster by Morrissey. This is one of the not so good ones. I happen to have been born in November. When this song was popular, I heard this song must have been written about me. Not from my peers, mind you, from my father. He fancies himself a funny man, and this little "joke" amused him to no end. Considering some of the things he'd said to me through my childhood (in the spirit of amusing himself), I never did quite see it as funny as he did. He does enjoy jokes at other peoples' expense. Gods forbid someone make a joke about him, though. I do like the song quite a lot, but I still can't quite bring myself to listen to it much these days.
My Way by Frank Sinatra. My grandfather sang and played bass in several bands throughout his life. I always remember him singing and this song in particular became sort of his signature song. In my opinion, he sang it better than Frank. He always said he would sing this at my wedding. Unfortunately, he passed away in 2000. I do have a video of him singing this song, though. His name was Sharkey. He wasn't the best father, and he always seemed distant, but there were a lot of special little moments we shared throughout his life. One Christmas, he bought my grandmother diamond earrings (which is what she wanted), and a diamond necklace (just because she deserved it for putting up with him all those years, he told me). I was the only one who knew he had gotten them for her. For the week leading up to Christmas, he told her he wasn't able to get to the store, but he would make it up to her after Christmas. he put two slips of paper that read 'IOU one gift' on the tree. She grumbled every time she walked past the tree and those IOUs because she figured if he had time to watch television, surely he had time to at least make her a card or something! On Christmas Eve, she had been grousing about it again. He winked at me and we both shared a smile. On Christmas morning, he got up early and placed the two wrapped packages on the tree where the IOUs had been the entire week. When she woke up, she looked at the tree ready to scowl at them again when she saw two small, beautifully wrapped packages. That entire day, she was telling the story to everyone about how he and I had gotten her good and how happy she was. My Way reminds me of Papa, those moments we shared, and the big family Christmases we used to have.
I Believe In Father Christmas by Greg Lake. This song will always make me think of my Mom. I always look forward to seeing her sing this song around the holidays. As I got older, I really started listening to the lyrics and understanding the meaning of the song. The last lines of the song sum it up, and I've taken it to heart: "Be it heaven or hell, the Christmas you, get you deserve". I'm not a Christian by faith, but I grew up culturally Christian. I've always loved the season for many reasons. It's about the peace on earth and good will toward man. Getting caught up in the retail frenzy and commercialism ruins it. Worrying about what kind of "loots" you're going to receive, or whether its going to snow or not is pointless. Mom and I believe in Father Christmas and that's what matters most.
Off the top of my head, that's all I've got for now.
November Spawned a Monster by Morrissey. This is one of the not so good ones. I happen to have been born in November. When this song was popular, I heard this song must have been written about me. Not from my peers, mind you, from my father. He fancies himself a funny man, and this little "joke" amused him to no end. Considering some of the things he'd said to me through my childhood (in the spirit of amusing himself), I never did quite see it as funny as he did. He does enjoy jokes at other peoples' expense. Gods forbid someone make a joke about him, though. I do like the song quite a lot, but I still can't quite bring myself to listen to it much these days.
My Way by Frank Sinatra. My grandfather sang and played bass in several bands throughout his life. I always remember him singing and this song in particular became sort of his signature song. In my opinion, he sang it better than Frank. He always said he would sing this at my wedding. Unfortunately, he passed away in 2000. I do have a video of him singing this song, though. His name was Sharkey. He wasn't the best father, and he always seemed distant, but there were a lot of special little moments we shared throughout his life. One Christmas, he bought my grandmother diamond earrings (which is what she wanted), and a diamond necklace (just because she deserved it for putting up with him all those years, he told me). I was the only one who knew he had gotten them for her. For the week leading up to Christmas, he told her he wasn't able to get to the store, but he would make it up to her after Christmas. he put two slips of paper that read 'IOU one gift' on the tree. She grumbled every time she walked past the tree and those IOUs because she figured if he had time to watch television, surely he had time to at least make her a card or something! On Christmas Eve, she had been grousing about it again. He winked at me and we both shared a smile. On Christmas morning, he got up early and placed the two wrapped packages on the tree where the IOUs had been the entire week. When she woke up, she looked at the tree ready to scowl at them again when she saw two small, beautifully wrapped packages. That entire day, she was telling the story to everyone about how he and I had gotten her good and how happy she was. My Way reminds me of Papa, those moments we shared, and the big family Christmases we used to have.
I Believe In Father Christmas by Greg Lake. This song will always make me think of my Mom. I always look forward to seeing her sing this song around the holidays. As I got older, I really started listening to the lyrics and understanding the meaning of the song. The last lines of the song sum it up, and I've taken it to heart: "Be it heaven or hell, the Christmas you, get you deserve". I'm not a Christian by faith, but I grew up culturally Christian. I've always loved the season for many reasons. It's about the peace on earth and good will toward man. Getting caught up in the retail frenzy and commercialism ruins it. Worrying about what kind of "loots" you're going to receive, or whether its going to snow or not is pointless. Mom and I believe in Father Christmas and that's what matters most.
Off the top of my head, that's all I've got for now.
07 October 2010
Very Ready
I'm ready to go tomorrow, other than the fact that I have to get some sleep, and plug my phone in because it's about to die. I've got the alarm set for 6:45, because I know I'll hit the snooze button at least a few times, and I do not want to be late for this.
I've gone away for much longer than this before, but never with the intent on relocating. That is starting to hit me more than anything right now. This is a good move for me, and there is so much for me there, and I want this very much. But I also can't help but think of what I'm leaving here. My family, my dog, my lizards, and my home for the entirety of my life thus far. I have every intention on coming back to visit as often as possible, but it's odd, scary, and more than a little bittersweet. Naively, I didn't expect to feel this way. There isn't much here that I will miss, but what I will miss will be very much so. Some places, some people, some foods, and strangely enough, the feel of this place. I know I'll be back again before the final move, but not for long. That idea thrills me and frightens me at the same time.
I've got anxiety, excitement, hope, a bit of sadness, a lot of happiness, self-doubt, confidence, and so many other things going on in my head right now that it's making me quite tense. I really should be getting to sleep. I'll have around 9 hours to nap on the train, but chances are I will not sleep much in reality. I've got so much to do in this life, and I hope everyone finds the same happiness that I've found.
Through all of this stress, anxiety, and tension, I've still managed to be happier than I have ever been before. The realities are setting in, but so is the knowledge that I know where I want to wake up for the rest of my days, and that I know who I want to see each of those mornings and days by my side. And for now, I will sleep. The morning will come faster once I've gone to bed.
I've gone away for much longer than this before, but never with the intent on relocating. That is starting to hit me more than anything right now. This is a good move for me, and there is so much for me there, and I want this very much. But I also can't help but think of what I'm leaving here. My family, my dog, my lizards, and my home for the entirety of my life thus far. I have every intention on coming back to visit as often as possible, but it's odd, scary, and more than a little bittersweet. Naively, I didn't expect to feel this way. There isn't much here that I will miss, but what I will miss will be very much so. Some places, some people, some foods, and strangely enough, the feel of this place. I know I'll be back again before the final move, but not for long. That idea thrills me and frightens me at the same time.
I've got anxiety, excitement, hope, a bit of sadness, a lot of happiness, self-doubt, confidence, and so many other things going on in my head right now that it's making me quite tense. I really should be getting to sleep. I'll have around 9 hours to nap on the train, but chances are I will not sleep much in reality. I've got so much to do in this life, and I hope everyone finds the same happiness that I've found.
Through all of this stress, anxiety, and tension, I've still managed to be happier than I have ever been before. The realities are setting in, but so is the knowledge that I know where I want to wake up for the rest of my days, and that I know who I want to see each of those mornings and days by my side. And for now, I will sleep. The morning will come faster once I've gone to bed.
06 October 2010
This Time Tomorrow...
I'll be sitting on a train, on the way home. I'm very much looking forward to so many things, like seeing my friends again, taking in the city again, and that moment I see him again for the first time. If I'm honest, I'm looking forward to every moment I see him, and kiss him, and hold him, and love him.
Things are pretty quiet here today. The people have calmed down quite a bit so that there isn't any real drama. Today, I'm going to do my regular things to pretty myself up, but I also need to fulfill an oath that I must do while still here. The other can be done while I'm there, though it'll be kind of a pain in the ass, but this one (the most important) needs to be here. The weather is beautiful for a hike, and I'm hoping it holds out until I'm ready to go. I also need to finish the sewing project that is largely done already. It's just a few details that should only take me about 30 minutes or so. And then there's more of the beautification. And if it's still nice later, I think I'll sit outside with a warm beverage and enjoy the evening.
I'm unsure how often I'll be writing while I'm gone (which will be a bit over two weeks). When I get back, it will hopefully be to get everything together to move. Honestly, I'm both scared and excited about that. I don't know what awaits me, and there is some sadness in the idea of saying good bye to the place I grew up. But I'm ready. Ready to take on a new adventure. Very ready to be close to my love. And ready to challenge myself.
Things are pretty quiet here today. The people have calmed down quite a bit so that there isn't any real drama. Today, I'm going to do my regular things to pretty myself up, but I also need to fulfill an oath that I must do while still here. The other can be done while I'm there, though it'll be kind of a pain in the ass, but this one (the most important) needs to be here. The weather is beautiful for a hike, and I'm hoping it holds out until I'm ready to go. I also need to finish the sewing project that is largely done already. It's just a few details that should only take me about 30 minutes or so. And then there's more of the beautification. And if it's still nice later, I think I'll sit outside with a warm beverage and enjoy the evening.
I'm unsure how often I'll be writing while I'm gone (which will be a bit over two weeks). When I get back, it will hopefully be to get everything together to move. Honestly, I'm both scared and excited about that. I don't know what awaits me, and there is some sadness in the idea of saying good bye to the place I grew up. But I'm ready. Ready to take on a new adventure. Very ready to be close to my love. And ready to challenge myself.
05 October 2010
It Went Well... But Then...
I set my alarm for 9am this morning so I could wake up, get my brain together, and be ready for 10am. I remember the alarm going off once and hitting the snooze button. Well, I wake up and check the time, and it's 9:39. I jump up, saying "oh crap! Oh crap! Oh crap!" over and over again while I'm looking for my pants. It's then that I realise I don't have to BE anywhere, or even be dressed, so I relax a bit. Grab the phone and a notebook and put them in front of the computer, bring up my resume on the screen, and sit there. I stare at the phone and wait... and wait... until about 10 after 10 when it rings. Slowly, I pick it up and it begins.
It actually ended up going pretty well. They want me to come in for an assessment test, which is an hour and a half of computer simulation goodness. Problem is I have to figure out how to get up there for that, since I won't have a car. If I wait until late next week, I can just rent the car early for our trip and drive that up. There's still the anxiety of whether my car will make it out there in the first place. If I have no car, I'm pretty much screwed on that job. That's why I'm still holding out hope for finding something in town and near a bus route. But if I keep worrying, I'm going to end up shooting myself in the foot somehow.
So, where I'm at now: I'm about half-packed for my trip, got one interview lined up (though I have to figure out how I can get there, and when I'll be able to do it and get back to them), and I'm sitting here with about 39 hours to go not getting anything accomplished. Awesome. OH! And let's not forget someone has swung back to the other side of rationality. It's been quite a ride today. Just looking forward to getting out of town and having some fun. Also looking forward to hopefully having some more interviews, so I can justify this whole trip to the person who thinks I'm trying to "have my cake and eat it too".
Well, I should get that sewing project I promised to do, done. I'm not sure why I seem to think I'm much more awesome than I actually am, or that I can do everything at the last minute. I procrastinate too damn much.
It actually ended up going pretty well. They want me to come in for an assessment test, which is an hour and a half of computer simulation goodness. Problem is I have to figure out how to get up there for that, since I won't have a car. If I wait until late next week, I can just rent the car early for our trip and drive that up. There's still the anxiety of whether my car will make it out there in the first place. If I have no car, I'm pretty much screwed on that job. That's why I'm still holding out hope for finding something in town and near a bus route. But if I keep worrying, I'm going to end up shooting myself in the foot somehow.
So, where I'm at now: I'm about half-packed for my trip, got one interview lined up (though I have to figure out how I can get there, and when I'll be able to do it and get back to them), and I'm sitting here with about 39 hours to go not getting anything accomplished. Awesome. OH! And let's not forget someone has swung back to the other side of rationality. It's been quite a ride today. Just looking forward to getting out of town and having some fun. Also looking forward to hopefully having some more interviews, so I can justify this whole trip to the person who thinks I'm trying to "have my cake and eat it too".
Well, I should get that sewing project I promised to do, done. I'm not sure why I seem to think I'm much more awesome than I actually am, or that I can do everything at the last minute. I procrastinate too damn much.
04 October 2010
Anxiety and Excitement
In a bit less than three days, I will be back in PGH, and back in my love's arms. I'll be gone for somewhere around 2.5 weeks, which I am completely looking forward to. What I'm hoping is that when I get back, I'll become far more mercenary about my stuff. I'm thinking garbage bags and donation boxes at this point. I've only got a couple of boxes packed, though if you were to count my crafting stuff, I guess there is more. How screwed I am really depends on whether I find a job while I'm there this time.
Tomorrow, I've got a phone interview with a huge company for a phone customer service position. There are serious pros and serious cons to this job. Pros: it pays fairly well, awesome benefits, good company probably = a fair amount of job security. Cons: It's not on the bus line so I'd have to take my car, I don't know if my car will make it out there, 30ish minute drive each way, weird hours and likely working holidays. I'd much rather be in the city, or at least somewhere I can take a bus to get to. But I do really need to work. BUT I've not even had an interview yet. However, as I've said, the thought of driving my car 6 hours to get it there scares the hell out of me. I'm not sure if it'll make it there and if it doesn't, it'll pretty much stay where it dies because I can't afford to get it anywhere at the moment. I never thought this would be easy, though, so I'm just going to forge ahead and meet whatever challenges hit me.
I'm nervous about the interview tomorrow, though. I have a tendency not to be great in interviews. I'll be happy at 10:30 when it's over and behind me. I do have a friend that works there, so perhaps a good word has been put in, which makes me a bit less nervous. That and I can wear my pink flannel gnome pajamas during a job interview and have my resume' right there on my computer screen! So, I guess I'll hope for the best, whatever that may be. Be it getting this job, or finding one that's going to be easier and less stressful to get to.
I am ridiculously excited about leaving on Thursday, though. Most important, I'll see my love again. It's going on a month since we've seen each other, which is the longest amount of time we've gone. That, and this distance thing is getting old. Don't get me wrong, I'd travel to the farthest reaches of the Earth for him, but I'd much rather be near him and able to see him every day. And as the end to this distance draws nearer, I become more and more impatient. But the approximately two and a half weeks I am there should help to hold me over for whatever remaining week(s) are left before the move is permanent. There are lots of exciting things going on those weeks, and also lots of time for us to relax and spend a lot of time together.
It's very cold here where my computer is. I'm thinking some tea and a blanket sounds pretty good right now.
Tomorrow, I've got a phone interview with a huge company for a phone customer service position. There are serious pros and serious cons to this job. Pros: it pays fairly well, awesome benefits, good company probably = a fair amount of job security. Cons: It's not on the bus line so I'd have to take my car, I don't know if my car will make it out there, 30ish minute drive each way, weird hours and likely working holidays. I'd much rather be in the city, or at least somewhere I can take a bus to get to. But I do really need to work. BUT I've not even had an interview yet. However, as I've said, the thought of driving my car 6 hours to get it there scares the hell out of me. I'm not sure if it'll make it there and if it doesn't, it'll pretty much stay where it dies because I can't afford to get it anywhere at the moment. I never thought this would be easy, though, so I'm just going to forge ahead and meet whatever challenges hit me.
I'm nervous about the interview tomorrow, though. I have a tendency not to be great in interviews. I'll be happy at 10:30 when it's over and behind me. I do have a friend that works there, so perhaps a good word has been put in, which makes me a bit less nervous. That and I can wear my pink flannel gnome pajamas during a job interview and have my resume' right there on my computer screen! So, I guess I'll hope for the best, whatever that may be. Be it getting this job, or finding one that's going to be easier and less stressful to get to.
I am ridiculously excited about leaving on Thursday, though. Most important, I'll see my love again. It's going on a month since we've seen each other, which is the longest amount of time we've gone. That, and this distance thing is getting old. Don't get me wrong, I'd travel to the farthest reaches of the Earth for him, but I'd much rather be near him and able to see him every day. And as the end to this distance draws nearer, I become more and more impatient. But the approximately two and a half weeks I am there should help to hold me over for whatever remaining week(s) are left before the move is permanent. There are lots of exciting things going on those weeks, and also lots of time for us to relax and spend a lot of time together.
It's very cold here where my computer is. I'm thinking some tea and a blanket sounds pretty good right now.
03 October 2010
My Fire is Returning
For many years, the only things I created were costumes for other people (I made them for myself as well, but they were never near as good as the ones I made for others) and journals full of my emotions. Lately, I've started thinking a lot about the story ideas rattling around in my head. And the long-silent whisper has woken up and is nipping at my mind, telling me I should bring one (or all) of them to life. I doubt it would go anywhere, since I'm iffy about showing any of my work to others, but a lot of my writing has been for me. The act of creating something is what makes me happy, not any potential praise or glory that may come with the finished product. Even writing here has sparked something in me. These entries are less about pure, emotive writing and a bit more about observations and inspiration. This feels more like actual writing, rather than vomiting forth the strife that was in my head and heart.
Which brings me to the second type of creating that I've done a bit of. A few months ago, I picked up a small, cheap sketch pad. The idea was not to create masterpieces, but to just doodle and see what happened. The first page contains a couple of absolutely horrible attempts at womens' faces. I've never been good at faces and I KNOW this, but of course, I have to set myself up for failure from the get go. The second page had a drawing based off an Arthur Rackham illustration. It's more of a landscape. I started this a couple of months ago and again, I thought it sucked so I gave up on it. Tonight, I flipped open the book and looked at that second page again. I picked up the pencil and started playing with some shading on a tree. I kept going with it, and ended up shading a bit of the background. Two hours later, I'm kind of happy with the way it's coming. There are two parts of it that I'm still stuck on (which equals roughly 1/2 of the drawing), but the rest of it looks okay. It is rather rudimentary and probably not very good, but it certainly is better than it was. I also see my style in this drawing. When I was young, I drew a lot. I had somewhat of a distinct style that I could always recognise, like my own handwriting. Seeing it emerge again after so many years made me feel pretty good. Not only that, but two hours flew by and I didn't even notice, because I was so engrossed in what I was doing, and I enjoyed it so much.
I'm not sure if anyone will ever see this particular drawing, though. I'm still me, which means the thought of showing this to a real artist, like my love, intimidates me. I'm very self-conscious about everything I create and I never think others are going to think it's any good. I've been given praise on my writing and drawing/painting in the past, but I still highly doubt that I have any skill or talent. I do it because I enjoy it, much like those people who howl away to the car stereo because they enjoy singing, not because they're good.
I've got a bit more confidence in myself. With that, I'm able to allow myself to create again. I'm able to do things I enjoy doing. For a long time, whenever I tried, I'd get frustrated, destroy what I was working on, and give up. I think I've found another piece of me.
I have the support and encouragement of my love, which means the world to me. He is the air and I am the fire. For a long time, I was stifled, starving. His entering my life has rekindled me. His love feeds me. Where once there were dim embers, a roaring flame has emerged. I needed air to breathe and to grow. He is my air, he is what nourishes me and inspires me. He has helped me to reawaken that which was inside all along, and he is a big reason to keep this going.
Yeah, all of this because of a half-finished drawing. I can see it now, this one's going to have a fancy name that has nothing to do with what it actually is. And that's just fine with me.
Which brings me to the second type of creating that I've done a bit of. A few months ago, I picked up a small, cheap sketch pad. The idea was not to create masterpieces, but to just doodle and see what happened. The first page contains a couple of absolutely horrible attempts at womens' faces. I've never been good at faces and I KNOW this, but of course, I have to set myself up for failure from the get go. The second page had a drawing based off an Arthur Rackham illustration. It's more of a landscape. I started this a couple of months ago and again, I thought it sucked so I gave up on it. Tonight, I flipped open the book and looked at that second page again. I picked up the pencil and started playing with some shading on a tree. I kept going with it, and ended up shading a bit of the background. Two hours later, I'm kind of happy with the way it's coming. There are two parts of it that I'm still stuck on (which equals roughly 1/2 of the drawing), but the rest of it looks okay. It is rather rudimentary and probably not very good, but it certainly is better than it was. I also see my style in this drawing. When I was young, I drew a lot. I had somewhat of a distinct style that I could always recognise, like my own handwriting. Seeing it emerge again after so many years made me feel pretty good. Not only that, but two hours flew by and I didn't even notice, because I was so engrossed in what I was doing, and I enjoyed it so much.
I'm not sure if anyone will ever see this particular drawing, though. I'm still me, which means the thought of showing this to a real artist, like my love, intimidates me. I'm very self-conscious about everything I create and I never think others are going to think it's any good. I've been given praise on my writing and drawing/painting in the past, but I still highly doubt that I have any skill or talent. I do it because I enjoy it, much like those people who howl away to the car stereo because they enjoy singing, not because they're good.
I've got a bit more confidence in myself. With that, I'm able to allow myself to create again. I'm able to do things I enjoy doing. For a long time, whenever I tried, I'd get frustrated, destroy what I was working on, and give up. I think I've found another piece of me.
I have the support and encouragement of my love, which means the world to me. He is the air and I am the fire. For a long time, I was stifled, starving. His entering my life has rekindled me. His love feeds me. Where once there were dim embers, a roaring flame has emerged. I needed air to breathe and to grow. He is my air, he is what nourishes me and inspires me. He has helped me to reawaken that which was inside all along, and he is a big reason to keep this going.
Yeah, all of this because of a half-finished drawing. I can see it now, this one's going to have a fancy name that has nothing to do with what it actually is. And that's just fine with me.
02 October 2010
The Month Coming
Well, I've been asking for it all September. Finally, it's October! And as I sit here thinking on the second day of this, my favorite month, I realise just how much is going on and how much I have to accomplish. I'm still in the process of packing and I have a long way to go. Before Thursday, there are a couple of oaths I need to fulfill. Likely, I'll work on one (or both) today. This Tuesday, I have a telephone interview for a job. I'm not usually good with interviews, so I'm a bit nervous. I'm hoping that I'll have some other interviews when I get into town next week.
Next weekend is Zombie Walk. It's my first one and I have to say, I am so excited! The first I'd ever heard of one was last year when some friends posted pictures. From then, I knew I had to go, so I decided I would make the trip this year. Who knew that I'd end up there permanently. Anyway, I've got my outfit prepared and I can't wait for the all day Z-fest. My love and I are going to have a fantastic time shuffling around and, of course, making people ill, since we'll be the loved up zombies in the corner ;) He's already said he'll tell people he wants me for my brains, but he also wants me for my body. I'm a girl who is a complete sucker for nerdy lines, so that was like he had written a sonnet for me.
Then, after spending a week relaxing at his house, we are going to drive to yet another state and attend my tribe's Winternights gathering. Initially, I was to be freed from Thralldom at this event. Things happened, my mentor left the tribe, and I was passed off to someone else. This new person, while being a really good person, is new to Thrall ownership. I've been given a reading assignment that I've been working on. My prior mentor was going in a completely different (and highly specific) direction with me, one that I'm going to need to continue on my own. There's going to be issues with people who love me if I'm not freed that weekend, but I'm not sure how I feel about it. I'm still a bit numb about the whole thing with losing my mentor. He is (was?) one of my best friends and the things we were going to work on within the tribe are things that made me most interested in joining this particular group. I've since developed relationships with most of the rest of the members, but the study opportunities are no longer there. I do feel I should be freed, but my reasons are somewhat selfish. I was the first Thrall of the tribe, yet I'm the only one left still in Thralldom. The person who is my current mentor came in three months AFTER I did, and was freed within 5 months. He definitely deserved to be freed because he did a lot, but there are a couple of others whom I wonder about. I'm also ready to continue on to the next stage of involvement, whatever that may be. But on the other hand, I'm not completely sure about some things, so if I'm still a Thrall, there is less pressure to make those decisions right away. But as it also stands, I'm currently the only Thrall stateside (the other is in Afghanistan). I understand the reason behind this whole thing, and I accept it as a valuable part of the process, but I really would like to be freed. It would make me feel more like I've accomplished something, and I'd love to have that right now. BUT, either way, that weekend will be fun. My love and I will be camping, I'll be seeing some friends (and introducing my wonderful man to them), and just having a good time... that's the plan, anyway.
The weekend after that, I should be back here (though for how long, I've got no idea). Some friends will be in the area, so I'll likely see them, which will be nice. I'll also need to get the rest of my stuff together, finish what I need to finish, and then hopefully, moving day. Again, I'm not sure if that day will be sometime this month or next month. What I do know is that, no matter what, I've got no more than 6 weeks left here. I'm very okay with that idea. I do want to spend some time with Mom before that time ends. I'm not sure about any friends, because I don't know who'd want to get together.
I'm ready to face it all. I'm ready to get things situated. And now, I'm ready to get going on this day!
Next weekend is Zombie Walk. It's my first one and I have to say, I am so excited! The first I'd ever heard of one was last year when some friends posted pictures. From then, I knew I had to go, so I decided I would make the trip this year. Who knew that I'd end up there permanently. Anyway, I've got my outfit prepared and I can't wait for the all day Z-fest. My love and I are going to have a fantastic time shuffling around and, of course, making people ill, since we'll be the loved up zombies in the corner ;) He's already said he'll tell people he wants me for my brains, but he also wants me for my body. I'm a girl who is a complete sucker for nerdy lines, so that was like he had written a sonnet for me.
Then, after spending a week relaxing at his house, we are going to drive to yet another state and attend my tribe's Winternights gathering. Initially, I was to be freed from Thralldom at this event. Things happened, my mentor left the tribe, and I was passed off to someone else. This new person, while being a really good person, is new to Thrall ownership. I've been given a reading assignment that I've been working on. My prior mentor was going in a completely different (and highly specific) direction with me, one that I'm going to need to continue on my own. There's going to be issues with people who love me if I'm not freed that weekend, but I'm not sure how I feel about it. I'm still a bit numb about the whole thing with losing my mentor. He is (was?) one of my best friends and the things we were going to work on within the tribe are things that made me most interested in joining this particular group. I've since developed relationships with most of the rest of the members, but the study opportunities are no longer there. I do feel I should be freed, but my reasons are somewhat selfish. I was the first Thrall of the tribe, yet I'm the only one left still in Thralldom. The person who is my current mentor came in three months AFTER I did, and was freed within 5 months. He definitely deserved to be freed because he did a lot, but there are a couple of others whom I wonder about. I'm also ready to continue on to the next stage of involvement, whatever that may be. But on the other hand, I'm not completely sure about some things, so if I'm still a Thrall, there is less pressure to make those decisions right away. But as it also stands, I'm currently the only Thrall stateside (the other is in Afghanistan). I understand the reason behind this whole thing, and I accept it as a valuable part of the process, but I really would like to be freed. It would make me feel more like I've accomplished something, and I'd love to have that right now. BUT, either way, that weekend will be fun. My love and I will be camping, I'll be seeing some friends (and introducing my wonderful man to them), and just having a good time... that's the plan, anyway.
The weekend after that, I should be back here (though for how long, I've got no idea). Some friends will be in the area, so I'll likely see them, which will be nice. I'll also need to get the rest of my stuff together, finish what I need to finish, and then hopefully, moving day. Again, I'm not sure if that day will be sometime this month or next month. What I do know is that, no matter what, I've got no more than 6 weeks left here. I'm very okay with that idea. I do want to spend some time with Mom before that time ends. I'm not sure about any friends, because I don't know who'd want to get together.
I'm ready to face it all. I'm ready to get things situated. And now, I'm ready to get going on this day!
01 October 2010
A Black and Fitful Night
I am still awake this night. It is the first day of October. This is a welcome night, this beginning. The rain still falls outside, and it's gotten heavier in the last moment. I'm looking out the window, but I can't see anything. I'm almost afraid that, if I stare too long at the blackness, I will see something. I can hear the rain falling outside all of the windows in this apartment. In another room, a fan is on. In yet another room, my past slumbers.
In 162 hours, I will see my future as I lay eyes, yet again, on my soon-to-be home. In 167 hours, I will be lying in my love's arms. He awaits me as I await him, with excitement, anticipation, and adoration. I look forward to nothing more than wrapping myself in him, feeling his lips on mine, and looking into the eyes that have become my home and my joy. I think of holding him, of stroking his hair, and of falling into bed with him. I look a bit beyond that to the day I don't have to say goodbye to him anymore, of not having any more days pass by that I can't see his smile, and to feeling his hand gently caressing my face every day.
But tonight, as I look forward to this future, I am again unable to sleep. This fitful night passes by too slowly, as I'm sure six more will as well. I take this gladly, because I know what awaits me at the end. Nights not so black and fitful. Nights filled with the sound of my love whispering to me, and his breathing as he sleeps. Nights sleepless for the act of love. Nights just before a new day full of hope.
But for now, I'll likely not sleep for another hour. I'll mentally prepare for the coming week, month, and lifetime. I'll watch some television and have some more grapes. And hopefully, I will be far less serious on the morrow. Perhaps I will write next about the upcoming Zombie Walk, and the shenanigans and awesomely nerdy zombie themed pick-up lines he and I will use on each other while we give PGH a public display of zombie affection.
In 162 hours, I will see my future as I lay eyes, yet again, on my soon-to-be home. In 167 hours, I will be lying in my love's arms. He awaits me as I await him, with excitement, anticipation, and adoration. I look forward to nothing more than wrapping myself in him, feeling his lips on mine, and looking into the eyes that have become my home and my joy. I think of holding him, of stroking his hair, and of falling into bed with him. I look a bit beyond that to the day I don't have to say goodbye to him anymore, of not having any more days pass by that I can't see his smile, and to feeling his hand gently caressing my face every day.
But tonight, as I look forward to this future, I am again unable to sleep. This fitful night passes by too slowly, as I'm sure six more will as well. I take this gladly, because I know what awaits me at the end. Nights not so black and fitful. Nights filled with the sound of my love whispering to me, and his breathing as he sleeps. Nights sleepless for the act of love. Nights just before a new day full of hope.
But for now, I'll likely not sleep for another hour. I'll mentally prepare for the coming week, month, and lifetime. I'll watch some television and have some more grapes. And hopefully, I will be far less serious on the morrow. Perhaps I will write next about the upcoming Zombie Walk, and the shenanigans and awesomely nerdy zombie themed pick-up lines he and I will use on each other while we give PGH a public display of zombie affection.
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