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strange one
4/14/2008 1:43 pm Last Read: |
please don't read if you are feeling cranky about spelling and syntax and such, as this is s disaster I feel like I have to say something, but then again I feel like "Who has the time to read / listen / respond?" I barely do. I have to take a mind break because I have been revving over a bunch of work stuff all weekend and now that I have re-organized my tasks in my head, and I am less in flat-blank panic mode, I am now in "Holy fuck how the hell am I ever gonna do all of this?!?!" mode. I went, on Friday after the Queer Open Mic, for which I sub-host, to an accordion jam session. Where I got to watch cure people play hot instruments. I also saw some accordionista cliquishness, which was interesting. I spent early Saturday at a baby shower, and since I am always super apprehensive about social situations there days, I was glad that it was mellow enough to not have to worry about too much social-exposure. It was nice though, little kids wandering around and the usual parental swapping of knowing-nods and such about baby things. The afternoon was interesting; I managed to somewhat strand myself at Oakland's Jack London Square because my insane desire to ride the ferry and my presuming that ferry service was fairly common left me a bit stranded. I wound up taking the BART to Vallejo to go to John's house. I had hope to take the ferry because I though it would be kick-ass, as the weather was insanely fucking crazy ass beautiful for ferry riding. Alas, it was not to be. What was to be was OK too, since there was the change to lounge around, watch movies and fuck. And I can't complain about that. I got word of some scary news about my friend's little baby, and that was disconcerting. She stopped breathing, and thank the gods they had taken a CPR for babies class. I am glad the baby is OK. She spent some time in the hospital, but now is back at home. Sunday we went to meet some of Daddy Goberhead's friends at the beach.... dont ask me which one. Whichever one is by Taravals terminus. Or origin, whichever. It was beautiful until the fog came in and pillaged the land. I was getting crazy numbers of calls and text messages, which was odd, since it tends to be that I hear from only a few people here and there. We wound up going with John's buddies to supper, and that was very nice. I started thinking of my own friends, and marveling at how the definition of "close friend" has shifted for me in the past couple of years. As of now, I would be hard pressed to define what I see to be the role of friends in my life. I just can't put my finger on this shift. I think it is the fact that so many people are becoming family-centric and that leaves you in a different place with your friends. If someone is married, it changes how you interact with them socially. Once they have kids...forget it. Irrevocable alterations. I realized I spend a lot of time censoring myself. Lots of that is fear. I am trying to do less censoring. I am often unsuccessful. Mostly because I have a fear of seeming. Seeming needy, seeming clingy, seeming bitchy.... The fog coming in and the intensity of being in so many weather zones (from Vallejo heat to coastal heat to coastal fog to inland chill) made the end of the day a crashy one. It was less than stellar to get back home, and wanting to just collapse and decompress to have my roommate grimly declaring the need for a sit down discussion "later" about "some issues". Because that shit wears on my mind I asked what, in general terms, the "sit down" was to be about, and it again is the cat litter issue. My being away for the weekend, I think that the cats had gorged on the food I left and someone had had terrible poopness in the back room. And in my haste, I left an untied bag of scooped poop in the back room, so it was smelly back there. It does not help that the back room is windowless, and relies on the spray timer I have in there spritzing to try to manage stinkiness. There is not anything by way of circulating air. I went right onto See, once again I fucking suck." mode and started getting weepy and overwhelmed. It reminded me of the bad old days when, every time I came home, there was something else to worry about or deal with, something else that was pissing someone off, some other way I'd failed. I am tired of feeling bad, and about feeling bad about feeling bad. I hate HATE coming home to have to deal with issues. Look! Hey! New thing to fret about again from the past!!! Mr. Goberhead was, again, really really stunningly patient. And very sweet. And hauled the insane bag of trash downstairs for me. He is a very good Daddy. I must get back to figuring out my workflow for this week. And editing. And not freaking out. If you have read this far, I regret the disaster area through which you have slogged. I have no time to edit myself plus, I dont have to. My goal for today is to let go of a little bit of fear.  Mollena
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4/18/2008 5:08 pm |
Each time I let go of a little more fear, I feel more and more layers peel away. Be gone, damn fear, be gone. ~Sen  
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 5/2/2008 12:08 am |
A question and a comment: 1. Is Taraval the street in SF? If so, I was born on it. 2. I too in widowhood have discovered how couple and family centric American social life it. It sucks and I haven't yet figured out what to do about it except move to another country or have affairs with married men.
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5/2/2008 2:40 pm |
A question and a comment: 1. Is Taraval the street in SF? If so, I was born on it. 2. I too in widowhood have discovered how couple and family centric American social life it. It sucks and I haven't yet figured out what to do about it except move to another country or have affairs with married men.  I have a friend who is in a long term relationship with someone married....it is interesting how that dynamic can seem routine, especially when the circumstances around it seem justifiable to those involved. The thing that would bug me is that, if I were single and with someone who had me AND their wife, I would be cranky about that. I am all about the fairness! love Mollena
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5/3/2008 5:29 am |
Mo - everytime I drive 19th Avenue from my mother's home to the SF airport, I point Taraval out to my kids. "Look, look, that's where I was born!" I only lived in SF for a short time. We moved to St. Louis, then came back and lived in SF again when I was 5 but then moved to Marin. I am not cranky about my lover's wife at all. I have the better part of him to be frank. But I do resent that I am an augmentation to his already full (if not fulfilled life) whereas he in some sense stands in the way of me building a complete and fulfilled life. But it's all relative, isn't it? I have a lover who is brilliant, funny, kind, wise, and really sexy. So what if I don't see him all the time? When I do see him, it's always good. And the rest of my life is fine too. After being in Israel for three weeks, I must conclude that we Americans have so little to complain about compared to the Palestinians and Israelis. We have great lives that we don't take advantage of and appreciate.
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