Saturday, January 26, 2013
I've been thinking about the narrative inside my head. Self talk. Inner monologue, whatever.
The voice interpreting my day, casting an emotional spin on events, interpreting another's body language.
I live in my own universe and you live in yours. We visit each other. Intimacy for me is feeling welcome in another person's universe, realizing I have a place in it, my spot on the couch.
Since this time last week I've been in five different states. If that ain't metaphorical, I don't know what is.
The work ugly has made me re-examine, re-think, question my motives, doubt myself.
How could I not have known this malevolence was bubbling along?
But the thing is--I did know. I had evidence. Reportage. Comments and looks and evictions.
The thing about red flags is I almost always ignore them. I make the same dumb mistakes, over and over.
I ignore the obvious and then obsess over the minute. What did she mean with that look? Why do they always turn down my invitations? He says he cares about me but does he really? It shows a lack of trust, I know that. Trust in myself, trust in another. In some ways I'm still this little kid looking for approval. It's inside. Learn that. Remember that. It's inside.
Saturday, January 19, 2013
Whiskey, good friends and Gaga Monday night and into Tuesday.
A day later, somber coffee with friend going through medical tests and fearing the outcome.
The next day, and the next, discovery of a deep malevolence at work.
Deep and enduring malevolence.
At my workplace.
I'm scared, for my job, my reputation.
Yesterday, I took steps, talked to the right people, did--so I was told--the right things. So now I talk, and wait, and try not to think too much.
Yesterday, I came home to a gift, a thank you letter for the essay I wrote last year, accompanied by a check.
It's been awhile since I could equate words with money.
It feels good!
It feels really good.
Wednesday, January 16, 2013
Or not doing.
I've done a lot of traveling, drinking, dancing, smoking, loving, laughing, and some crying.
(Hey, I'm a girl, I'm allowed.)
What I haven't done is a lot of writing.
This is where it gets dangerous, where I wake up and all of a sudden I'm seventy and saggy and frustrated and alone and asking myself how I fucked up life so bad.
Sunday, January 6, 2013
Happy new year errybody.
I welcomed 2013 with bubbly, a rowdy funk band and some late-nite drunk dialing.
And needless to say, a hangover.
But also with ideas, optimism, curiosity.
In yoga there are poses called heart-openers.
At first I was skeptical--so corny!
But it seems to me that there are worse things than an open heart, and sometimes the body can be the gateway to the mind.
So I guess here's to stretches and all that comes with.