Making this film was the hardest thing I have ever had to do in my life. No, not the actual production itself. That stuff I have down cold. In fact, I learned how much I knew on our last long night of shooting. I was just looking at what I prepared for that last night and, wow, I was prepared, I knew what I was doing.
What surprised me were the things I learned about my life through this process. I knew I would learn something but, boy, there was a lot there.
I discovered that my depression and frustration through the process was that I thought I wanted “help,” that I wasn’t getting the “help” that I wanted. I was frustrated because I felt like I was being left alone, no one was helping me.
What I realized just the other day is that what I was waiting for was someone to tell me what to do, someone to step in and criticize the way I was doing things. I was so used to having someone over my shoulder, challenging my every decision, that I didn’t know what to do when no one did that. I always thought that my ex was “helping,” was there to guide me, support me. Yet at the same time, I knew what he was doing was irritating and aggravating and making me feel like I was completely incompetent. Those two sides of my brain just wouldn’t co-exist during this film. I was depressed because I was alone yet I was delighted to be alone. I was feeling out of my element because that’s what I had been taught to feel. Yet I never felt more in my element than on this production.
I don’t even know if I can express what I felt through the production, there were so many things going on in my head. It was so difficult for me to just keep moving forward because every single day, I had a batch of new and weird thoughts and emotions going on.
The sad thing is, I wanted someone to step in and tell me what to do. Because that’s what I knew. Whenever Chairman showed up on the set or talked to me about the production, I was waiting for him to find some fault in what I was doing and take it away from me. Then when he didn’t, I was angry because he wasn’t “helping” me. I now realize I’m an idiot. He didn’t take anything away from me because he trusted that I knew what I was doing. He wasn’t “helping” me because I didn’t need “help.” When I did go to him for real help, he was always available and always gave me real help. He didn’t hesitate to give me his tow cents when necessary but he didn’t find it necessary to give me two cents every single minute of the production. I didn’t know how to deal with that. Someone who trusted me and my abilities. Wow. What a concept.
Recently, Bonnie linked me to another blog that talked about finding their new “normal.” That their life had changed so much and now they had to figure out what normal is for them now. It made me think about what my normal is now. And working through things on the film made me realize that there is a new normal in my life.
My old normal was a regulated, controlled, confined life. I didn’t do anything without an hour long discussion about everything. I didn’t do anything without going through challenge after challenge after challenge about every choice I made. My old life was strangling and suffocating and I didn’t know it. I thought that was what normal was supposed to be. I never trusted myself because that was normal. I never took chances because it was normal. I was terribly alone in normal, even though he was always there. I got used to being lonely and yet not alone, not knowing if what I did was right without him telling me it was, or it wasn’t. Normal meant not listening to myself and only listening to me.
My new normal is this controlled chaos that is my life. New normal means learning to listen to myself and not waiting for that other voice to chime in, because there is no other voice. Actually, there are many other voices that I never heard in my old normal. They are the voices of those around me who see a strong, independent, capable artist, not a weak person in need of shaping. Those voices were never allowed to come through. New normal means truly trusting myself because there is no one else to trust. New normal means doing what I want to do, good or bad, without waiting for permission. New normal feels funny and weird and odd and empty, and yet I can’t wait until new normal becomes just normal.
The only thing about new normal that is like the old normal is the loneliness. However, at least it is true loneliness and not the type of loneliness shared by two. It is just me and I think it’s going to be just me for a very long time. That’s the hardest part of the new normal is that but I’m glad that the other normal is long gone.
So I will learn how to do this new normal and learn to accept the alone part of it and embrace the rest of it. And in no time at all, it will be normal normal and nothing else.
Tuesday, May 30, 2006
Sunday, May 28, 2006
Love and Inspiration
Love and Inspiration, in no particular order:
1. Zadra – for never saying “I told you so”; for allowing me to be crazy and obsessed and insane and telling me it’s okay when I am; for just always being there, no matter what time, no matter what. For being on the ledge with me and not letting me jump off. Your voice, your music, your passion inspire me.
2. Chairman – for your casual generosity in a million little ways; for your support and unrelenting appreciation of me as an artist; for your clarity and your ability to cut through the bullshit and make me face things I don’t want to; for sharing your joy with me; for helping me discover music again; for being and remaining my friend, despite my craziness. The depth of your many talents inspires me as does your simple passion and joy for life.
3. Bibi – for your encouragement and your support last year when things were very tough; for your continued connection and encouragement. The grace and dignity with which you live your life inspires me every single day.
4. AJ – for your acceptance and appreciation of me as an artist; for your embracing of me as a friend; for including me in so many things in your life and making me feel so very special. Your talent, your intelligence and your profound understanding of your place in the universe inspires me to find those things within myself.
5. Peter – for your very dear friendship; for the respect you give me as an artist; for your tolerance of my constant manhandling of you. Your spirit and your dedication to your art and your beliefs inspire me every time I see you.
6. The Ark Theatre and those contained therein – for the continued pleasure of being allowed to do what I love more than life itself; for the vast array of talent contained therein; for the support and guidance being handed to me currently to help me grow as an artist. This place inspires me more than anything to continue to do good work, to challenge myself and to let myself learn how to be a better director.
7. Koji’s – for the joy and the music; for the insanity every Thursday night; for the continued study in fearlessness; for Ric and Erin every week. You all inspire me to tackle my fears and just face life. I know it’s only karaoke but I like it!
8. Patty – for being you; for becoming my friend and my sidekick; for sharing and listening and laughing with me. Your joy and your optimism inspire me to find that within myself.
9. Monica – for your intelligent take on life; for also sharing and laughing and listening; for your support and insight into my artistic side. Your continued exploration into your life and sharing that with me is an inspiration for me to continue that work myself.
10. Anna B. – for sharing your mid-life with me. I’m glad we’ve become friends and your continued pursuit of your own life and happiness inspires me to continue with mine.
11. Erik – for your friendship; for the checking in phone calls; for your cynical side; for continuing to be my friend through both of our tumultuous times; for your beautiful, blessed children. You inspire me with your ability to go through all the things you have this year and still continue to try to find the good things in all of it.
12. Amy – your talent; your openness with your struggles; your sense of humor. Your search for God and His meaning in your life inspires me to remember Him in my life and be always grateful for that.
13. All the musicians in my life – you inspire me to find the music that lives within me that I have never been given the opportunity to discover.
14. My sister, Cindy – for always challenging me and making me want to do better; for your wicked take on life; for your appreciation of me as an artist; for being there as a sister; for being my sister, no matter how much we piss each other off. Your continued search for what makes you happy, for what makes you Cindy, inspires me to continue o my own path.
15. My parents. There aren’t words for why I love and what I love and what inspires me about you. Cannot be contained in a single document.
16. The other mid-life bloggers – for your sharing of yourselves with such openness and honesty; for being willing to let others know when you share their pain and their progress. You guys inspire me to continue to write, continue to seek and continue to hope to find the joy we all search for.
17. The others – there are so many others in my life, I realized as I started this list, that inspire me every single day with their passion and their dedication to their art, their support of me through these tough times, their humor, their love and their joy. I just can’t even begin to name all of you. It would take volumes.
What I love and what inspires me the most about the people in my life – their appreciation and respect for me as an artist. I have never had that so much as I have now; their sheer joy and passion for their lives, no matter what happens, no matter what life throws at them; their fearlessness in tackling life and art; their willingness to share their lives with me.
Make your own list. Tell those you love and who inspire you that they do and why. If you don’t do it this way, tell them to their face. We all need to know that we are loved. And, as I’m learning, time is not infinite and it would be a shame to never have said those very important things to those who are important in your life.
I’ll send you off on this ridiculously sentimental journey with a thought from Brian Andreas from storypeople.com:
“There are things you do because they feel right & they may make no sense & they may make no money & it may be the real reason we are here: to love each other & to eat each other's cooking & say it was good.”
1. Zadra – for never saying “I told you so”; for allowing me to be crazy and obsessed and insane and telling me it’s okay when I am; for just always being there, no matter what time, no matter what. For being on the ledge with me and not letting me jump off. Your voice, your music, your passion inspire me.
2. Chairman – for your casual generosity in a million little ways; for your support and unrelenting appreciation of me as an artist; for your clarity and your ability to cut through the bullshit and make me face things I don’t want to; for sharing your joy with me; for helping me discover music again; for being and remaining my friend, despite my craziness. The depth of your many talents inspires me as does your simple passion and joy for life.
3. Bibi – for your encouragement and your support last year when things were very tough; for your continued connection and encouragement. The grace and dignity with which you live your life inspires me every single day.
4. AJ – for your acceptance and appreciation of me as an artist; for your embracing of me as a friend; for including me in so many things in your life and making me feel so very special. Your talent, your intelligence and your profound understanding of your place in the universe inspires me to find those things within myself.
5. Peter – for your very dear friendship; for the respect you give me as an artist; for your tolerance of my constant manhandling of you. Your spirit and your dedication to your art and your beliefs inspire me every time I see you.
6. The Ark Theatre and those contained therein – for the continued pleasure of being allowed to do what I love more than life itself; for the vast array of talent contained therein; for the support and guidance being handed to me currently to help me grow as an artist. This place inspires me more than anything to continue to do good work, to challenge myself and to let myself learn how to be a better director.
7. Koji’s – for the joy and the music; for the insanity every Thursday night; for the continued study in fearlessness; for Ric and Erin every week. You all inspire me to tackle my fears and just face life. I know it’s only karaoke but I like it!
8. Patty – for being you; for becoming my friend and my sidekick; for sharing and listening and laughing with me. Your joy and your optimism inspire me to find that within myself.
9. Monica – for your intelligent take on life; for also sharing and laughing and listening; for your support and insight into my artistic side. Your continued exploration into your life and sharing that with me is an inspiration for me to continue that work myself.
10. Anna B. – for sharing your mid-life with me. I’m glad we’ve become friends and your continued pursuit of your own life and happiness inspires me to continue with mine.
11. Erik – for your friendship; for the checking in phone calls; for your cynical side; for continuing to be my friend through both of our tumultuous times; for your beautiful, blessed children. You inspire me with your ability to go through all the things you have this year and still continue to try to find the good things in all of it.
12. Amy – your talent; your openness with your struggles; your sense of humor. Your search for God and His meaning in your life inspires me to remember Him in my life and be always grateful for that.
13. All the musicians in my life – you inspire me to find the music that lives within me that I have never been given the opportunity to discover.
14. My sister, Cindy – for always challenging me and making me want to do better; for your wicked take on life; for your appreciation of me as an artist; for being there as a sister; for being my sister, no matter how much we piss each other off. Your continued search for what makes you happy, for what makes you Cindy, inspires me to continue o my own path.
15. My parents. There aren’t words for why I love and what I love and what inspires me about you. Cannot be contained in a single document.
16. The other mid-life bloggers – for your sharing of yourselves with such openness and honesty; for being willing to let others know when you share their pain and their progress. You guys inspire me to continue to write, continue to seek and continue to hope to find the joy we all search for.
17. The others – there are so many others in my life, I realized as I started this list, that inspire me every single day with their passion and their dedication to their art, their support of me through these tough times, their humor, their love and their joy. I just can’t even begin to name all of you. It would take volumes.
What I love and what inspires me the most about the people in my life – their appreciation and respect for me as an artist. I have never had that so much as I have now; their sheer joy and passion for their lives, no matter what happens, no matter what life throws at them; their fearlessness in tackling life and art; their willingness to share their lives with me.
Make your own list. Tell those you love and who inspire you that they do and why. If you don’t do it this way, tell them to their face. We all need to know that we are loved. And, as I’m learning, time is not infinite and it would be a shame to never have said those very important things to those who are important in your life.
I’ll send you off on this ridiculously sentimental journey with a thought from Brian Andreas from storypeople.com:
“There are things you do because they feel right & they may make no sense & they may make no money & it may be the real reason we are here: to love each other & to eat each other's cooking & say it was good.”
Of hearts, souls and boobs...
(Sorry, a bit long-winded tonight)
Hearts:
My father has been going through some really disturbing albeit amazing things this past month or so that has, weirdly or not, gotten me thinking about a lot of things. His newest pacemaker (third one) has a built-in defibrillator, to shock his heart back into rhythm when it gets out of rhythm. Just over a month ago, that happened. He was sitting in a casino and, ZAP, his pacemaker shocked him. The doctor later told him that if it hadn’t, he would have been dead on the spot. Scared the crap out of my dad. Friday night, same thing. I had been down there visiting, came home, not an hour later, Mom calls and says they’re in emergency, Dad’s pacemaker zapped him again. He was told last time to get to emergency right away so they can monitor him. So they went. I stayed home for a bit, thinking that it’s one of those nothing but something kind of things. He’s been through so many things that seem to big yet turn out to be just simple things that still could kill him. I finally decided to go down there at 12:00 last night. Mom had already headed home because they were running tests and it was going to be hours before they knew anything. I headed to their place to be there for my mother. This is so stressful for her and I decided that, “little” thing or not, she needed me there. Turned out they admitted him for observation overnight and they released him around 6:00 today. Everything’s fine, pacemaker did its job, he’d have been dead without it.
The scary thing is Dad talked about dying tonight. Not in so many words but he broached the subject for the first time. He said he wished they could just tell him how much time he had, like they can with cancer patients. That they could just tell him that his heart is failing a little more each time and it may only be months. I think that’s what worries him so much, any of these shocks could not do the trick and he could be dead. Although we’ve all known this and understood it, I don’t think any of us accepts it. He’s going to live forever. Well, today, forever stopped being a concept. I know now that we measure his life in weeks, maybe months but a year may not be seen.
My father is my heart. He always has been. He’s always been so effortlessly supportive of me, so gentle and loving without making a big show of it. The films he tapes for me, the fact that he pays attention to what I do, that he gave me the love of my creative side, that is my heart. And I really don’t know what I am going to do when that heart stops beating. There is no replacement for that. So I’ll try to make sure I tell him I love whenever I see him, because maybe we didn’t say it enough. And I’ll share my creative life with him while he’s here and maybe find a way to tell him how much he means to me and how much he has influenced me and that I hope he’s proud of me.
It also makes me think that maybe there shouldn’t be a “no-holds-barred” day. Every day should be that. Find the one you love and tell them. Find the one who inspires you and tell them. Make a list. Post it on your blog. Who do you love and why. Who inspires you and why. Who are your heroes, not big celebrities, but the every day heroes in your life and why. Then make sure you send that list to all of them so that they know. Be brave, be courageous, be vulnerable and put yourself out there for those who have done it for you. I’ll put up my list tomorrow.
Souls:
Kind of along the inspiration line, I saw one of my favorite bands tonight (thank you, Chairman, for introducing them to me), The Piper Downs. I dig these guys (and Ellen) so much. Their music is fun and just a little bitter. Edgy, cool, pure adrenaline rock and roll. Bobby Bognar, the lead singer, is not your conventional lead singer but I love him. Garner on guitar and Yell on bass with Ellen, the rock star chick drummer, are so incredible to watch. They love what they do. Period. Love it. And Krista, Garner’s girlfriend and faithful supporter of the band, is so lovely and sat with me tonight so I wouldn’t be alone. I adore their passion and their enthusiasm and their sheer desire to perform. On top of that, they’re just great people. They met me as a friend of Chairman’s but by the second time I saw them perform, I was the friend. Tonight, they asked after him because he was not there, but were delighted that I was there anyway. Watching Ellen tonight pound away like the rock star that she is has really inspired me to maybe attempt something I’ve denied and hidden away for so long – I want to learn how to play drums. I talked to her backstage after the show and she just about jumped up and down with excitement that I wanted to learn. She offered to even give me a pair of drumsticks to get started. I should have said yes. But I do think I will begin to explore this rather than wait another 10 years and go, shit, I should have done that 10 years ago. At least I have someone I can turn to for help and inspiration. Did I mention I love these guys?
Boobs:
Okay, I’m ashamed to admit I got manhandled tonight and did nothing about it. I was so taken aback. Went to a party for a dear friend’s birthday and had an amazing time. Changed into my black rock star vintage men’s shirt with a cute, sexy brand new black and pink bra underneath. The plan – leave the shirt unbuttoned enough to reveal sexy peeks at the bra. Works like a charm. Sexy but not slutty. Slit skirt, fishnets and heels, sexy, not slutty. I joked with my friend and a couple of guys he was talking to when I came out in my sexy not slutty outfit, saying that it was too bad they wouldn’t get to see the best part of the outfit, the bra, because I was saving that for the club.
One of the guys is a filmmaker and we got talking about film after my bra discussion. He seemed really interested in – shock of all shocks – me, both as a filmmaker and as a girl. He walked me to my car, which I was thought was very nice and interesting. I thought maybe I’d get a nice coffee date out of it. We chatted for a few minutes about film and stuff and I was starting to think, hey, maybe this will be a good way for me to get the OOMA out of my head and try something new. Well, I said I had to go to get to the club to see Piper Downs. He commented that he was sorry he wasn’t going to get a chance to see the aforementioned bra. I laughed and said that I was saving it for the club. Then he actually UNBUTTONED MY SHIRT BUTTON. I put my hand up and protected myself then said, “Mighty forward of you, wasn’t that?” We both laughed a minute then he actually pulled the shirt open and stuck his hand inside, actually getting a little bit of breast, and made some comment about whether or not my nipples would show. I politely pulled his hand out of my shirt and clutched it closed, saying I had to go. He had the nerve to kiss me on the cheek and then give me his email address to “keep in touch about film and stuff.” Fuck no. Or no fuck, whichever way you want it. I stood with my mouth hanging open as he walked away, waving sweetly back at me. The Wraith would have broken his arm, I thought as I climbed into my car. I was so stunned by his audaciousness that I didn’t react and I’m kicking myself that I didn’t kick him for his actions. However, should our paths cross again, which they might, he’d better wear a cup.
Hearts:
My father has been going through some really disturbing albeit amazing things this past month or so that has, weirdly or not, gotten me thinking about a lot of things. His newest pacemaker (third one) has a built-in defibrillator, to shock his heart back into rhythm when it gets out of rhythm. Just over a month ago, that happened. He was sitting in a casino and, ZAP, his pacemaker shocked him. The doctor later told him that if it hadn’t, he would have been dead on the spot. Scared the crap out of my dad. Friday night, same thing. I had been down there visiting, came home, not an hour later, Mom calls and says they’re in emergency, Dad’s pacemaker zapped him again. He was told last time to get to emergency right away so they can monitor him. So they went. I stayed home for a bit, thinking that it’s one of those nothing but something kind of things. He’s been through so many things that seem to big yet turn out to be just simple things that still could kill him. I finally decided to go down there at 12:00 last night. Mom had already headed home because they were running tests and it was going to be hours before they knew anything. I headed to their place to be there for my mother. This is so stressful for her and I decided that, “little” thing or not, she needed me there. Turned out they admitted him for observation overnight and they released him around 6:00 today. Everything’s fine, pacemaker did its job, he’d have been dead without it.
The scary thing is Dad talked about dying tonight. Not in so many words but he broached the subject for the first time. He said he wished they could just tell him how much time he had, like they can with cancer patients. That they could just tell him that his heart is failing a little more each time and it may only be months. I think that’s what worries him so much, any of these shocks could not do the trick and he could be dead. Although we’ve all known this and understood it, I don’t think any of us accepts it. He’s going to live forever. Well, today, forever stopped being a concept. I know now that we measure his life in weeks, maybe months but a year may not be seen.
My father is my heart. He always has been. He’s always been so effortlessly supportive of me, so gentle and loving without making a big show of it. The films he tapes for me, the fact that he pays attention to what I do, that he gave me the love of my creative side, that is my heart. And I really don’t know what I am going to do when that heart stops beating. There is no replacement for that. So I’ll try to make sure I tell him I love whenever I see him, because maybe we didn’t say it enough. And I’ll share my creative life with him while he’s here and maybe find a way to tell him how much he means to me and how much he has influenced me and that I hope he’s proud of me.
It also makes me think that maybe there shouldn’t be a “no-holds-barred” day. Every day should be that. Find the one you love and tell them. Find the one who inspires you and tell them. Make a list. Post it on your blog. Who do you love and why. Who inspires you and why. Who are your heroes, not big celebrities, but the every day heroes in your life and why. Then make sure you send that list to all of them so that they know. Be brave, be courageous, be vulnerable and put yourself out there for those who have done it for you. I’ll put up my list tomorrow.
Souls:
Kind of along the inspiration line, I saw one of my favorite bands tonight (thank you, Chairman, for introducing them to me), The Piper Downs. I dig these guys (and Ellen) so much. Their music is fun and just a little bitter. Edgy, cool, pure adrenaline rock and roll. Bobby Bognar, the lead singer, is not your conventional lead singer but I love him. Garner on guitar and Yell on bass with Ellen, the rock star chick drummer, are so incredible to watch. They love what they do. Period. Love it. And Krista, Garner’s girlfriend and faithful supporter of the band, is so lovely and sat with me tonight so I wouldn’t be alone. I adore their passion and their enthusiasm and their sheer desire to perform. On top of that, they’re just great people. They met me as a friend of Chairman’s but by the second time I saw them perform, I was the friend. Tonight, they asked after him because he was not there, but were delighted that I was there anyway. Watching Ellen tonight pound away like the rock star that she is has really inspired me to maybe attempt something I’ve denied and hidden away for so long – I want to learn how to play drums. I talked to her backstage after the show and she just about jumped up and down with excitement that I wanted to learn. She offered to even give me a pair of drumsticks to get started. I should have said yes. But I do think I will begin to explore this rather than wait another 10 years and go, shit, I should have done that 10 years ago. At least I have someone I can turn to for help and inspiration. Did I mention I love these guys?
Boobs:
Okay, I’m ashamed to admit I got manhandled tonight and did nothing about it. I was so taken aback. Went to a party for a dear friend’s birthday and had an amazing time. Changed into my black rock star vintage men’s shirt with a cute, sexy brand new black and pink bra underneath. The plan – leave the shirt unbuttoned enough to reveal sexy peeks at the bra. Works like a charm. Sexy but not slutty. Slit skirt, fishnets and heels, sexy, not slutty. I joked with my friend and a couple of guys he was talking to when I came out in my sexy not slutty outfit, saying that it was too bad they wouldn’t get to see the best part of the outfit, the bra, because I was saving that for the club.
One of the guys is a filmmaker and we got talking about film after my bra discussion. He seemed really interested in – shock of all shocks – me, both as a filmmaker and as a girl. He walked me to my car, which I was thought was very nice and interesting. I thought maybe I’d get a nice coffee date out of it. We chatted for a few minutes about film and stuff and I was starting to think, hey, maybe this will be a good way for me to get the OOMA out of my head and try something new. Well, I said I had to go to get to the club to see Piper Downs. He commented that he was sorry he wasn’t going to get a chance to see the aforementioned bra. I laughed and said that I was saving it for the club. Then he actually UNBUTTONED MY SHIRT BUTTON. I put my hand up and protected myself then said, “Mighty forward of you, wasn’t that?” We both laughed a minute then he actually pulled the shirt open and stuck his hand inside, actually getting a little bit of breast, and made some comment about whether or not my nipples would show. I politely pulled his hand out of my shirt and clutched it closed, saying I had to go. He had the nerve to kiss me on the cheek and then give me his email address to “keep in touch about film and stuff.” Fuck no. Or no fuck, whichever way you want it. I stood with my mouth hanging open as he walked away, waving sweetly back at me. The Wraith would have broken his arm, I thought as I climbed into my car. I was so stunned by his audaciousness that I didn’t react and I’m kicking myself that I didn’t kick him for his actions. However, should our paths cross again, which they might, he’d better wear a cup.
Friday, May 26, 2006
Heart versus mind
Struggling tonight with reconciling the heart and the mind. They get closer every time but it’s still a small battle going on endlessly in me.
It’s mainly the difference between understanding and accepting. I understand a lot of things. Like you wouldn’t be there tonight. Like I can’t expect you to be there. Like you’re not to be in my life right now the way I want you to be. And you may never be. I don’t accept any of the above. The mind versus the heart.
It’s the conundrum, it’s the hamster wheel, it’s the thing that keeps me up at night because I still can’t reconcile the two sides. It really has nothing to do with you. It’s really about how much I don’t trust my own feelings, so they have to battle it out over things like this. While I’ve grown to accept and trust my creative instincts, my personal instincts suffer. I had plenty of great support reinforcing my creative instincts over the past few years but precious little outside support for my emotional instincts. And now I just am not sure what’s right or what’s wrong with them. I think tonight I realized that instinct is instinct and if I trust the creative instinct, then I need to learn to trust my emotional one as well. They’re both from the same place. They both inform my life. I need to learn to listen to the personal instinct the way I listen to the creative one. But I don’t think there’s any music on my Nano that will stimulate the personal instinct. At least if there is, I haven’t found it yet.
So you’re caught in the middle of my two sides, trying to decide which one is right, which one is true. And really, it has nothing to do with you. You’re just the current thing caught there. And maybe once I can trust that instinct, find a way to really embrace it, an answer will come clear and I can release you from that middle to whichever side you’re supposed to be on. Then I’ll be clearer about what I want from you, need from you, can expect from you and things won’t be so muddy, at least from where I’m standing. For all I know, things are crystal clear over there on your side and you have no idea what I’m talking about. Which is fine. I’ll get there eventually.
It’s mainly the difference between understanding and accepting. I understand a lot of things. Like you wouldn’t be there tonight. Like I can’t expect you to be there. Like you’re not to be in my life right now the way I want you to be. And you may never be. I don’t accept any of the above. The mind versus the heart.
It’s the conundrum, it’s the hamster wheel, it’s the thing that keeps me up at night because I still can’t reconcile the two sides. It really has nothing to do with you. It’s really about how much I don’t trust my own feelings, so they have to battle it out over things like this. While I’ve grown to accept and trust my creative instincts, my personal instincts suffer. I had plenty of great support reinforcing my creative instincts over the past few years but precious little outside support for my emotional instincts. And now I just am not sure what’s right or what’s wrong with them. I think tonight I realized that instinct is instinct and if I trust the creative instinct, then I need to learn to trust my emotional one as well. They’re both from the same place. They both inform my life. I need to learn to listen to the personal instinct the way I listen to the creative one. But I don’t think there’s any music on my Nano that will stimulate the personal instinct. At least if there is, I haven’t found it yet.
So you’re caught in the middle of my two sides, trying to decide which one is right, which one is true. And really, it has nothing to do with you. You’re just the current thing caught there. And maybe once I can trust that instinct, find a way to really embrace it, an answer will come clear and I can release you from that middle to whichever side you’re supposed to be on. Then I’ll be clearer about what I want from you, need from you, can expect from you and things won’t be so muddy, at least from where I’m standing. For all I know, things are crystal clear over there on your side and you have no idea what I’m talking about. Which is fine. I’ll get there eventually.
Thursday, May 25, 2006
Frisky?...
I thought I was bored. Then I thought I was restless. Now I realize, it’s those fucking spring hormones.
Just finally kind of got my head together about the OOMA (object of my affection, for you newbies) and feeling pretty good about where I am with him. Realizing it’s not him, it’s me and all the baggage I need to work through before I can begin to even think about even indulging the thought of pursuing him. Dealing with not pushing the issue, just enjoying being around him. Putting all the crap I’ve been obsessing over on the back burner and feeling rather proud of the discoveries I’ve made and been making the past week or so. Happy with where I am and really just letting things go.
Then it hits. He’s standing behind me the other night and all of a sudden, WHAM! He coulda gotten so lucky instantly. Just wanted to turn around and climb all over him. Actually, could have probably been in any guy in the vicinity but I’d like to think it was just him. Had to really fight to not just grab him and drag him home and have my way with him.
Damned hormones.
They’re still lingering a bit so I’d better be careful over the next few days. But at least they didn’t get into my head and make me crazy with projecting things on to him. Just… well… don’t really want to go into what they did project on him. Let’s just say, some things aren’t meant for sharing.
Anyway, OOMA, sorry if I manhandle you in the next couple of days. Unless, of course, you like it. Then maybe we could… anyway…
Just finally kind of got my head together about the OOMA (object of my affection, for you newbies) and feeling pretty good about where I am with him. Realizing it’s not him, it’s me and all the baggage I need to work through before I can begin to even think about even indulging the thought of pursuing him. Dealing with not pushing the issue, just enjoying being around him. Putting all the crap I’ve been obsessing over on the back burner and feeling rather proud of the discoveries I’ve made and been making the past week or so. Happy with where I am and really just letting things go.
Then it hits. He’s standing behind me the other night and all of a sudden, WHAM! He coulda gotten so lucky instantly. Just wanted to turn around and climb all over him. Actually, could have probably been in any guy in the vicinity but I’d like to think it was just him. Had to really fight to not just grab him and drag him home and have my way with him.
Damned hormones.
They’re still lingering a bit so I’d better be careful over the next few days. But at least they didn’t get into my head and make me crazy with projecting things on to him. Just… well… don’t really want to go into what they did project on him. Let’s just say, some things aren’t meant for sharing.
Anyway, OOMA, sorry if I manhandle you in the next couple of days. Unless, of course, you like it. Then maybe we could… anyway…
Wednesday, May 24, 2006
Out of the darkness…
I am again moved to the light out of the darkness and am learning that, after every single bout of darkness, there is such beautiful, incredible, amazing light that I don’t think I would see without having tunneled through the blackness.
The last week has been full of lessons, learning and discovery – some of it incredibly hard and challenging, some of it actually a relief, a release, a letting go of some things and accepting others. Through all of this, I am so grateful for the patience and beauty that is Zadra. She listens endless to me prattle about this and that and then gives me the most amazing advice, whether I want to hear it or not, and then lets me do whatever I want without any “I told you so.” Honesty without repercussion, what a concept.
I think my biggest challenge through this last year is my impatience. I think that every time I go through a dark period and learn something that I should be done and have nothing more to discover or learn. Then when another dark period comes around, I think, shit, didn’t I do this already? Then I learn something new and discover something new and go, oh, that’s what I needed to learn. Okay, I’m done now. Shit, here we go again. Oh, that’s what I needed to learn… you get the idea. I think I figured that, after almost a year of being on my own, that I would have things all figured out by now and be past all the crap and ready to move on.
What I have learned this week is that I’m just scratching the surface. I’m just setting my feet on the path in front of me. And it’s going to be a long path. There has been a lot of damage done in the past years – some by him, some by me, some by us together. That damage is not going to be repaired overnight. It may not even show up for years to comes. I’ll be patching the roof for a long time and I need to accept that. The darkness will still come and will still be crippling but maybe now, knowing that it will come inevitably, I will not be dragged so far down into it and maybe be able to see the lesson in it without succumbing to it. I don’t know. We’ll see.
What I saw tonight was the light on the other side of the black. I’ve spent the past couple of days beginning to understand my feelings about the OOMA, about why he scares the shit out of me, about where I am in terms of being open to someone, and learning that I am not ready yet. Accepting that I don’t have much to offer right now other than my battered and broken and healing person and that’s okay. Accepting that I can’t have everything I want and to enjoy what I do have.
Tonight was about enjoying. Went to a birthday party for my good friend, Dean, who I adore. We’ve been friends forever and he and his partner, Rick, have been great friends through all this drama. They make me feel loved and appreciated and supported just by being my friends so it was a pleasure to hang out and eat and sing with them tonight. Adding to the pleasure was the presence of Tony and Donna, two other very long time friends who have always been so encouraging and caring. We don’t get to see enough of each other as we all are finding ourselves achieving the things we want out of our lives. And, the capper of the evening, my dearest Chairman was there and singing and laughing and being the lovely man that he is. I couldn’t have asked for more, especially since the birthday cake was this amazing concoction of chocolate and then Chairman shared his chocolate cheesecake with me. Heaven on a platter.
Then Chairman and I went to Anna Borg’s CD launch party for the World Record, a really cool band. Chairman always introduces me to the best music and the best people. I am pleased to have found a new friend in Anna and was delighted to be able to go and support her new project tonight. The music was great and I love hanging out with Chairman. His casual generosity always takes me by surprise.
I realized today, even before the delights of the evening, that this is what I always want to feel. I’m happy with the film, accepting of its limitations and delighted with the results I’m seeing. I had a great meeting with Paul, the artistic director at the Ark, and he gave me such respect and appreciation for my work that I was almost overwhelmed. I realized that I am in a place professionally that I have always wanted – to be appreciated and respected by those I appreciate and respect. There is nothing better. I feel strong in myself as I have moved through the discoveries of the past couple of days. I think accepting that there are more discoveries to come is a huge step for me and frees me from obsessing on what’s coming next. I accept that I don’t know and I just have to let it happen. Healing will come in whatever form it wants to, love will come in whatever form it wants to, and I can’t manipulate it and make it do anything but what it wants to do. Okay, sorry to get off on that tangent but that’s what I’m feeling right now.
There are huge challenges ahead, such as figuring out money and rent for my new apartment and how to keep that coming in, but God has given me an indication that there are greater things coming, if I can just be patient (an Aries be patient?) and wait for them. The biggest lesson of my life – just wait and it will come. Hard to do but not impossible.
So, for today, I will embrace that which is around me and that which feels so good and so glorious and so lovely and wait on more to come, as patiently as I am able to, and know that, as bad as things can and will get, there is always something so much better on the other side of that. I just have to wait to get there.
“These are the days we will remember.” - Keith Urban
The last week has been full of lessons, learning and discovery – some of it incredibly hard and challenging, some of it actually a relief, a release, a letting go of some things and accepting others. Through all of this, I am so grateful for the patience and beauty that is Zadra. She listens endless to me prattle about this and that and then gives me the most amazing advice, whether I want to hear it or not, and then lets me do whatever I want without any “I told you so.” Honesty without repercussion, what a concept.
I think my biggest challenge through this last year is my impatience. I think that every time I go through a dark period and learn something that I should be done and have nothing more to discover or learn. Then when another dark period comes around, I think, shit, didn’t I do this already? Then I learn something new and discover something new and go, oh, that’s what I needed to learn. Okay, I’m done now. Shit, here we go again. Oh, that’s what I needed to learn… you get the idea. I think I figured that, after almost a year of being on my own, that I would have things all figured out by now and be past all the crap and ready to move on.
What I have learned this week is that I’m just scratching the surface. I’m just setting my feet on the path in front of me. And it’s going to be a long path. There has been a lot of damage done in the past years – some by him, some by me, some by us together. That damage is not going to be repaired overnight. It may not even show up for years to comes. I’ll be patching the roof for a long time and I need to accept that. The darkness will still come and will still be crippling but maybe now, knowing that it will come inevitably, I will not be dragged so far down into it and maybe be able to see the lesson in it without succumbing to it. I don’t know. We’ll see.
What I saw tonight was the light on the other side of the black. I’ve spent the past couple of days beginning to understand my feelings about the OOMA, about why he scares the shit out of me, about where I am in terms of being open to someone, and learning that I am not ready yet. Accepting that I don’t have much to offer right now other than my battered and broken and healing person and that’s okay. Accepting that I can’t have everything I want and to enjoy what I do have.
Tonight was about enjoying. Went to a birthday party for my good friend, Dean, who I adore. We’ve been friends forever and he and his partner, Rick, have been great friends through all this drama. They make me feel loved and appreciated and supported just by being my friends so it was a pleasure to hang out and eat and sing with them tonight. Adding to the pleasure was the presence of Tony and Donna, two other very long time friends who have always been so encouraging and caring. We don’t get to see enough of each other as we all are finding ourselves achieving the things we want out of our lives. And, the capper of the evening, my dearest Chairman was there and singing and laughing and being the lovely man that he is. I couldn’t have asked for more, especially since the birthday cake was this amazing concoction of chocolate and then Chairman shared his chocolate cheesecake with me. Heaven on a platter.
Then Chairman and I went to Anna Borg’s CD launch party for the World Record, a really cool band. Chairman always introduces me to the best music and the best people. I am pleased to have found a new friend in Anna and was delighted to be able to go and support her new project tonight. The music was great and I love hanging out with Chairman. His casual generosity always takes me by surprise.
I realized today, even before the delights of the evening, that this is what I always want to feel. I’m happy with the film, accepting of its limitations and delighted with the results I’m seeing. I had a great meeting with Paul, the artistic director at the Ark, and he gave me such respect and appreciation for my work that I was almost overwhelmed. I realized that I am in a place professionally that I have always wanted – to be appreciated and respected by those I appreciate and respect. There is nothing better. I feel strong in myself as I have moved through the discoveries of the past couple of days. I think accepting that there are more discoveries to come is a huge step for me and frees me from obsessing on what’s coming next. I accept that I don’t know and I just have to let it happen. Healing will come in whatever form it wants to, love will come in whatever form it wants to, and I can’t manipulate it and make it do anything but what it wants to do. Okay, sorry to get off on that tangent but that’s what I’m feeling right now.
There are huge challenges ahead, such as figuring out money and rent for my new apartment and how to keep that coming in, but God has given me an indication that there are greater things coming, if I can just be patient (an Aries be patient?) and wait for them. The biggest lesson of my life – just wait and it will come. Hard to do but not impossible.
So, for today, I will embrace that which is around me and that which feels so good and so glorious and so lovely and wait on more to come, as patiently as I am able to, and know that, as bad as things can and will get, there is always something so much better on the other side of that. I just have to wait to get there.
“These are the days we will remember.” - Keith Urban
Monday, May 22, 2006
Continuation of this week's lesson...
Fear, shame and guilt are so inextricably aligned, it’s amazing. The things I’m most afraid of are the things that I feel the most shame or guilt about.
The biggest problem my ex and I had was that I was terrified to tell him when we had money problems, and we had a lot of them. Any time I would bring up this issue, I felt like he chastised me and blamed me for all of our money woes, and made me feel ashamed that I hadn’t handled things better. Then came the guilt of the blame, making it harder for me to tell him when things again went from bad to worse. Again, my fault, my shame, my guilt. Several years ago, when I totaled his truck and a new set of ugly revelations were about to come out, I had a moment during the accident where I actually hoped that I would not survive it so that I wouldn’t have to face him. Fear, shame, guilt. That was really the beginning of my couple of years of depression, I think, because I couldn’t get out of that cycle. Don’t tell him, hide the shame, the guilt, be afraid of how he’ll react. That colored everything in our relationship. And the angrier I got, the guiltier I felt because I truly started to believe that it was all my fault that we were having financial problems and that I was somehow not living up to what I should be. I know now that his anger was distorted through my haze of emotion, but there was some level of reality to the fear of his anger. He never laid a hand on me but sometimes the worse scarring is the stuff underneath that no one sees. It manifests itself in ugly ways because it’s so hidden. And it creates its own environment of shame, guilt, anger and fear.
I never managed to push past the fear in m own head to be honest with him about things. I wonder sometimes that, if I had, would we have been able to stay together? Would it have driven us apart earlier? Would it have made any difference at all? I’ll never know at this point but it’s something for me to ponder, as it’s an issue that will come up with the next relationship.
I think that inability to say what I feel to someone may also be the reason I never dated much when I was single. I never really knew what to say when I found someone attractive so most of the time I would say nothing and they would move on to someone else. Obviously no one who knocked my socks off because I really can’t think of anyone I was heartbroken over not dating. Luckily, the few guys I was really, truly interested in seemed to be interested in me so that made things easier.
It’s amazing to me that there is so much fear and shame associated with telling someone you care about them. And I know it’s not just me. It’s like we’re embarrassed to have the emotions to care that much about someone. That we’re ashamed to be so openly vulnerable to someone, to give that part of ourselves away, that we choose instead to say nothing. Then the more we say nothing, the more ashamed we are that we didn’t say anything and then the fear comes in and tells us not to say anything now because it’s too late. You were bad and didn’t say anything earlier, you don’t get to say anything now because you’re stupid and you should be ashamed. Hmmm, circus music, anyone?
What does all this mean? I don’t know. I know it helps me to have at least a starting point of where my fear comes from. It helps me look more clearly at the situation I find myself in right now. It makes me at least start to take apart the complicated emotions surrounded this situation, so I can look at each one with more clarity and then decide what to do with a better focus and better information than blindly stumbling through a blur of emotions that I couldn’t name. At least now if I chose to do nothing, it’s an active choice and not one coming out of fear and shame. Or if I chose to do something, I’ll come from an informed place and know that the emotions I’m feeling for him are real, not a jumble of leftover junk that got twisted just because he’s the first guy to be nice to me in a long time.
On a completely random different note, although maybe still tied into fear, I edited two scenes tonight, the first time I’ve felt like editing in more than a week. Hmmm, so I clear up some emotional space and look what happens. Either that, or I’m on the manic cycle of the manic-depression and I dig this side of the cycle. Anyway, I cut two scenes from that long-ass shoot night a couple of weeks ago. It was a little scary because we shot so fast and there was so much to cover. I’m sure some of you have read the blog on the Cinderella site or the Myspace for Life On Its Side. If not, go there for the details of my thought process on editing. Anyway, the two scenes turned out great. One was with the two sisters and is really heart-felt and moving and perfect. The other is with Vanessa and Chairman and their characters meeting and falling in love. It’s adorable without being saccharine, which is what I wanted. And my roomie’s mother thought Chairman was perfectly “charming.” (Subtle, huh?) Anyway, very pleased with myself tonight and the work done so far. I hope to get a batch more editing done this week but my social calendar is nuts and, oh, yeah, I’m moving in nine days. Yikes!
A whole new thing to fear about!
The biggest problem my ex and I had was that I was terrified to tell him when we had money problems, and we had a lot of them. Any time I would bring up this issue, I felt like he chastised me and blamed me for all of our money woes, and made me feel ashamed that I hadn’t handled things better. Then came the guilt of the blame, making it harder for me to tell him when things again went from bad to worse. Again, my fault, my shame, my guilt. Several years ago, when I totaled his truck and a new set of ugly revelations were about to come out, I had a moment during the accident where I actually hoped that I would not survive it so that I wouldn’t have to face him. Fear, shame, guilt. That was really the beginning of my couple of years of depression, I think, because I couldn’t get out of that cycle. Don’t tell him, hide the shame, the guilt, be afraid of how he’ll react. That colored everything in our relationship. And the angrier I got, the guiltier I felt because I truly started to believe that it was all my fault that we were having financial problems and that I was somehow not living up to what I should be. I know now that his anger was distorted through my haze of emotion, but there was some level of reality to the fear of his anger. He never laid a hand on me but sometimes the worse scarring is the stuff underneath that no one sees. It manifests itself in ugly ways because it’s so hidden. And it creates its own environment of shame, guilt, anger and fear.
I never managed to push past the fear in m own head to be honest with him about things. I wonder sometimes that, if I had, would we have been able to stay together? Would it have driven us apart earlier? Would it have made any difference at all? I’ll never know at this point but it’s something for me to ponder, as it’s an issue that will come up with the next relationship.
I think that inability to say what I feel to someone may also be the reason I never dated much when I was single. I never really knew what to say when I found someone attractive so most of the time I would say nothing and they would move on to someone else. Obviously no one who knocked my socks off because I really can’t think of anyone I was heartbroken over not dating. Luckily, the few guys I was really, truly interested in seemed to be interested in me so that made things easier.
It’s amazing to me that there is so much fear and shame associated with telling someone you care about them. And I know it’s not just me. It’s like we’re embarrassed to have the emotions to care that much about someone. That we’re ashamed to be so openly vulnerable to someone, to give that part of ourselves away, that we choose instead to say nothing. Then the more we say nothing, the more ashamed we are that we didn’t say anything and then the fear comes in and tells us not to say anything now because it’s too late. You were bad and didn’t say anything earlier, you don’t get to say anything now because you’re stupid and you should be ashamed. Hmmm, circus music, anyone?
What does all this mean? I don’t know. I know it helps me to have at least a starting point of where my fear comes from. It helps me look more clearly at the situation I find myself in right now. It makes me at least start to take apart the complicated emotions surrounded this situation, so I can look at each one with more clarity and then decide what to do with a better focus and better information than blindly stumbling through a blur of emotions that I couldn’t name. At least now if I chose to do nothing, it’s an active choice and not one coming out of fear and shame. Or if I chose to do something, I’ll come from an informed place and know that the emotions I’m feeling for him are real, not a jumble of leftover junk that got twisted just because he’s the first guy to be nice to me in a long time.
On a completely random different note, although maybe still tied into fear, I edited two scenes tonight, the first time I’ve felt like editing in more than a week. Hmmm, so I clear up some emotional space and look what happens. Either that, or I’m on the manic cycle of the manic-depression and I dig this side of the cycle. Anyway, I cut two scenes from that long-ass shoot night a couple of weeks ago. It was a little scary because we shot so fast and there was so much to cover. I’m sure some of you have read the blog on the Cinderella site or the Myspace for Life On Its Side. If not, go there for the details of my thought process on editing. Anyway, the two scenes turned out great. One was with the two sisters and is really heart-felt and moving and perfect. The other is with Vanessa and Chairman and their characters meeting and falling in love. It’s adorable without being saccharine, which is what I wanted. And my roomie’s mother thought Chairman was perfectly “charming.” (Subtle, huh?) Anyway, very pleased with myself tonight and the work done so far. I hope to get a batch more editing done this week but my social calendar is nuts and, oh, yeah, I’m moving in nine days. Yikes!
A whole new thing to fear about!
Sunday, May 21, 2006
Discovery (mine, not the Wraith's)
Very grateful for the guru and guide that is Zadra. We had a late lunch today and I was telling her about my blog on fear and that I felt like this was something I needed to explore further, along with some very harsh anger I’m discovering towards my ex. I told her I felt like I was on the verge of a breakthrough, of understanding something more. She encouraged me to pick up The Artist’s Way, which I have done on occasion, and check out the chapter on anger and how it is a tool. I had read that chapter but not in this state of mind.
The chapter deals with anger, fear and shame. How we, as artists, are often made to feel shameful or guilty about our gifts and how that can lead to anger. There’s a little quiz at the end of the chapter, as there are in all the chapters, but I’m never one to do these, really. But tonight, to avoid working on the edit because it’s too damned hot, I decided to take pen in hand and answer the quiz. There was a warning – “you may feel strong emotion as you retrieve memories and misplaced fragments of yourself.” Yeah, right.
It was actually kind of fun. Favorite childhood toy (an orange and yellow stuffed mouse named Bobo), favorite childhood game (Life), best movie as a child (Slapshot – weird childhood), etc., etc. Then question 17. What makes me feel weird about this recovery (the book is about recovering yourself as an artist) is… I wrote “memories of my ex and his criticism of everything I tried to create.”
Wham! There was that strong emotion I scoffed at. That’s why this whole thing with the OOMA scares the shit out of me. My ex and I started out this way – friends, collaborators, very comfortable with each other. Although he was critical even then but I considered it candor, not criticism. Because of my first marriage to someone who also had “candor”, I thought that was normal. I realized I’m afraid to say anything to him because, if we should get together, it might be just the same as it was with my ex. It’s been the same with the two most important relationships in my life, why would it be any different this time? There’s similar traits – he’s clear, he’s candid and can be sharply critical at times, but not very often. And never at me. That’s the biggest difference. He also lacks the hard core anger that my ex (both of them, I guess) possessed. But I’m afraid that, if I let myself be open again to this particular man, that I will again find myself lost, giving in to what he wants, needs, instead of taking care of myself. I am drawn to highly creative, gifted, ambitious men but they all seem to want to take my own ambitions and gifts and use them for themselves, leaving me with nothing. And I cannot be left with nothing again. I won’t survive it this time. I’m afraid because my ex always diminished my feelings and made me mistrust them. So now that I have all these strong feelings for this man, I mistrust myself – are they real, are they valid, do they matter, will he mock me if I tell him how I feel. I was robbed of the value of my feelings from this relationship with my ex. There was one particular night with this man that I saw a brief glimpse of my ex and that scared me to death. That led me to make a decision that I don’t think he understood and, at the time, I didn’t either and couldn’t explain it. All I knew was that I had to get away, I had to get some distance, because I’d seen something I had seen before and I didn’t like it. I’m afraid to embrace the possibility because I’m terrified of the probability of becoming lost again. I’m not sure I’m strong enough in myself at this point to be caught up in someone else’s life right now, especially someone who can feel so frighteningly familiar. I’m afraid I’ll lost the ground I’m gained. Yet he’s been so integral to that ground. But the voice inside me tells me he is biding his time until he can turn on me. And I’m so afraid that he will turn on me that I don’t even want to face it.
But the biggest difference, the one that makes me think maybe I can get past this, work through this, is that he doesn’t see me the way the other two did. They wanted me to build them, he comes pretty much assembled. I’m used to trying to be what these men wanted me to be, trying to figure out what I had to do to get them to love me, to appreciate me, to reward me. With him, I don’t feel that expectation, that he has this image that I’m supposed to live up to. And I don’t know what to do with that. I think he expects me to be me, the me he thinks I am. And I don’t know who that is right now. I think I’m in there somewhere and I think I’m finding myself slowly but surely. And I think that he somehow sees the “me” I’m working on in me. But how can I make myself be what he wants if he doesn’t project an expectation on me? I then have to decide who I am and trust he’ll go with me. But they never have before, why should he be different? Can’t I find myself with him? Or will I lose myself again? Maybe I can’t do it right now. Then I’m afraid that he’ll be gone by the time I’m ready. Then I guess he wouldn’t have been right, if that’s the case.
This has given me a lot to think about and made me realize that this is not about him. It’s about me. Whatever his feelings are, whatever his feelings may become, this is about me first, him second. I need to discover how to push through this fear because it will color every relationship from here on out, not just the one with him, should it come to pass, but any relationship down the line. It may keep me away from something amazing and it has almost led me to let go of something very, very dear and very, very precious. I hope he is there on the other side of this, I hope, if nothing else, that the friendship, which has held on very tenuously, will survive this voyage of discovery. And I hope he knows how much his friendship and his belief in the “me” that I am working on means to me.
The chapter deals with anger, fear and shame. How we, as artists, are often made to feel shameful or guilty about our gifts and how that can lead to anger. There’s a little quiz at the end of the chapter, as there are in all the chapters, but I’m never one to do these, really. But tonight, to avoid working on the edit because it’s too damned hot, I decided to take pen in hand and answer the quiz. There was a warning – “you may feel strong emotion as you retrieve memories and misplaced fragments of yourself.” Yeah, right.
It was actually kind of fun. Favorite childhood toy (an orange and yellow stuffed mouse named Bobo), favorite childhood game (Life), best movie as a child (Slapshot – weird childhood), etc., etc. Then question 17. What makes me feel weird about this recovery (the book is about recovering yourself as an artist) is… I wrote “memories of my ex and his criticism of everything I tried to create.”
Wham! There was that strong emotion I scoffed at. That’s why this whole thing with the OOMA scares the shit out of me. My ex and I started out this way – friends, collaborators, very comfortable with each other. Although he was critical even then but I considered it candor, not criticism. Because of my first marriage to someone who also had “candor”, I thought that was normal. I realized I’m afraid to say anything to him because, if we should get together, it might be just the same as it was with my ex. It’s been the same with the two most important relationships in my life, why would it be any different this time? There’s similar traits – he’s clear, he’s candid and can be sharply critical at times, but not very often. And never at me. That’s the biggest difference. He also lacks the hard core anger that my ex (both of them, I guess) possessed. But I’m afraid that, if I let myself be open again to this particular man, that I will again find myself lost, giving in to what he wants, needs, instead of taking care of myself. I am drawn to highly creative, gifted, ambitious men but they all seem to want to take my own ambitions and gifts and use them for themselves, leaving me with nothing. And I cannot be left with nothing again. I won’t survive it this time. I’m afraid because my ex always diminished my feelings and made me mistrust them. So now that I have all these strong feelings for this man, I mistrust myself – are they real, are they valid, do they matter, will he mock me if I tell him how I feel. I was robbed of the value of my feelings from this relationship with my ex. There was one particular night with this man that I saw a brief glimpse of my ex and that scared me to death. That led me to make a decision that I don’t think he understood and, at the time, I didn’t either and couldn’t explain it. All I knew was that I had to get away, I had to get some distance, because I’d seen something I had seen before and I didn’t like it. I’m afraid to embrace the possibility because I’m terrified of the probability of becoming lost again. I’m not sure I’m strong enough in myself at this point to be caught up in someone else’s life right now, especially someone who can feel so frighteningly familiar. I’m afraid I’ll lost the ground I’m gained. Yet he’s been so integral to that ground. But the voice inside me tells me he is biding his time until he can turn on me. And I’m so afraid that he will turn on me that I don’t even want to face it.
But the biggest difference, the one that makes me think maybe I can get past this, work through this, is that he doesn’t see me the way the other two did. They wanted me to build them, he comes pretty much assembled. I’m used to trying to be what these men wanted me to be, trying to figure out what I had to do to get them to love me, to appreciate me, to reward me. With him, I don’t feel that expectation, that he has this image that I’m supposed to live up to. And I don’t know what to do with that. I think he expects me to be me, the me he thinks I am. And I don’t know who that is right now. I think I’m in there somewhere and I think I’m finding myself slowly but surely. And I think that he somehow sees the “me” I’m working on in me. But how can I make myself be what he wants if he doesn’t project an expectation on me? I then have to decide who I am and trust he’ll go with me. But they never have before, why should he be different? Can’t I find myself with him? Or will I lose myself again? Maybe I can’t do it right now. Then I’m afraid that he’ll be gone by the time I’m ready. Then I guess he wouldn’t have been right, if that’s the case.
This has given me a lot to think about and made me realize that this is not about him. It’s about me. Whatever his feelings are, whatever his feelings may become, this is about me first, him second. I need to discover how to push through this fear because it will color every relationship from here on out, not just the one with him, should it come to pass, but any relationship down the line. It may keep me away from something amazing and it has almost led me to let go of something very, very dear and very, very precious. I hope he is there on the other side of this, I hope, if nothing else, that the friendship, which has held on very tenuously, will survive this voyage of discovery. And I hope he knows how much his friendship and his belief in the “me” that I am working on means to me.
Saturday, May 20, 2006
This week's lesson - fear
Fear is an amazing, powerful emotion. It can either drive you to greatness or bury you in depression. I think lately it has done both for me.
During the Cinderella shoot, I had to deal with so much fear within myself. It was extremely difficult because every single aspect of this shoot terrified me. Is the script strong enough? Do I really know what I am doing? Everyone’s looking for me to have the answer to everything and do I? What if I get on the set and I don’t know what to do? What if the crew discovers that I really haven’t got a clue? All the preparation and the organization in the world sometimes can’t override those voices. What I realized on this shoot is that so much of the voice of that fear came from living under such intense negativity for so long that I now jump to that negative first, burying the positive way down inside. I’m so afraid of doing something wrong and, yet, the gift of this shoot was that, even if I didn’t know what to do, there were very gifted people around me who were able to give suggestions in a professional, respectful way without making me feel like an idiot because I’d run into something I hadn’t expected. There was no judgment on that set about me. They expected me to direct and I did. They expected me to produce and I did.
Hmmm, expectation. That’s the other thing I’m great at throwing around. My expectations of things aren’t always what they should be and I tend to project my expectations onto others, with disastrous results. But that’s for another time.
So the fear of Cinderella and failing, etc., drove me to make sure that I was overly prepared for things. A few things fell through the cracks and I beat myself up about those, of course. But by simply pushing through the fear and not letting it get the better of me, I was able to channel that energy and turn it into productive energy and make this film. There were days that the fear was crippling, especially our last night of shooting. There was so much to be done, so much at stake, so many people standing around, waiting for me, that it almost made me want to run away. Don’t give me that much responsibility! Don’t you k now I can’t handle it! I’m an idiot! I don’t do anything right! Didn’t he tell you that? Oh, yeah, he’s not around. Again, the great respect of my cast and crew allowed me the moments to step back and deal with the fear and overwhelming pressure of the day without collapsing. My Ipod helped, too.
After that, you’d think I’d learn how to handle my fear. Not. Fear is now driving me to cut someone very dear to me out of my life because I’m too afraid to talk to him about how I feel. Rather than suck up the fear, tell him how I feel (including the angry stuff as well), and take the chance he doesn’t feel the same way or that he does and his fear is holding him back, I’m ready to say good-bye. Okay, maybe not ready but prepared to. Every moment spent with him is colored by my feelings and that’s not good for either of us. So rather than confront it, I’m giving into the fear and letting something very precious go.
And I look at him and I see the fear there as well. This is probably just me projecting because, you know, I do that, but I think he’s afraid of even looking at how he might feel about me because of his own fear. He’s got a very nice, comfortable life right now, and getting involved with me, besides all the baggage that comes along with that, means changing things a great deal. Maybe he’s not ready for that. Maybe he’s afraid of getting hurt again, as we all are. I know him well enough that if I have really overstepped a line or really done harm to him, he would have shut me out completely by now. Instead, I get this weird push-pull feeling from him. He likes to have me around but I got too close so he’s pushed me away. Seems to be a male thing. Come here, I want to get to know you, gee, I like being around you, shit, I’m feeling something for you, bye. Okay, come back for a while, okay, I got my fix, now go away.
Then the fear and those damned clowns sneak in and go, you know, if you do cut him out of your life, he won’t notice anyway. You’re not that important to him. You’re just a friend, just someone he’s obligated to for many reasons, none of which have anything to do with you personally. And when those obligations are gone, he will be, too.
I kept hoping for the universe to provide a time for a talk with him but I will admit that I think there were times provided and my fear overruled the universe. Then this fear feeds the anger I can’t deal with and that turns into depression because I feel so out of control with my life. Then the depression feeds the fear even more because it’s proving that it is right, that the fear knows me better than I know myself, and it drives me even further down.
So our lesson for this week is fear. I need to really look at this and figure out how to deal with it better. I need to maybe just take a step back for a while from him, really look at how I feel because it’s so confused and complicated and has been. I need to look at the root of my fear with him and talking to him and see where it lies. Maybe there is a very valid reason for the fear, other than maybe he doesn’t feel the same. Maybe I’m just kidding myself and can’t face that either. That’s another fear, that I made all of this up, that he never cared for me any more than as a friend, and that I distorted the whole thing.
I just know that I need to deal with this one way or the other soon. I’m sure you’re all tired of hearing (reading?) me talk about this situation, because I sure am. Maybe it’s a part of moving on and I have to go through this process to prepare me for something else. That damned universe again. But some serious introspection is required, whether I want to do it or not.
During the Cinderella shoot, I had to deal with so much fear within myself. It was extremely difficult because every single aspect of this shoot terrified me. Is the script strong enough? Do I really know what I am doing? Everyone’s looking for me to have the answer to everything and do I? What if I get on the set and I don’t know what to do? What if the crew discovers that I really haven’t got a clue? All the preparation and the organization in the world sometimes can’t override those voices. What I realized on this shoot is that so much of the voice of that fear came from living under such intense negativity for so long that I now jump to that negative first, burying the positive way down inside. I’m so afraid of doing something wrong and, yet, the gift of this shoot was that, even if I didn’t know what to do, there were very gifted people around me who were able to give suggestions in a professional, respectful way without making me feel like an idiot because I’d run into something I hadn’t expected. There was no judgment on that set about me. They expected me to direct and I did. They expected me to produce and I did.
Hmmm, expectation. That’s the other thing I’m great at throwing around. My expectations of things aren’t always what they should be and I tend to project my expectations onto others, with disastrous results. But that’s for another time.
So the fear of Cinderella and failing, etc., drove me to make sure that I was overly prepared for things. A few things fell through the cracks and I beat myself up about those, of course. But by simply pushing through the fear and not letting it get the better of me, I was able to channel that energy and turn it into productive energy and make this film. There were days that the fear was crippling, especially our last night of shooting. There was so much to be done, so much at stake, so many people standing around, waiting for me, that it almost made me want to run away. Don’t give me that much responsibility! Don’t you k now I can’t handle it! I’m an idiot! I don’t do anything right! Didn’t he tell you that? Oh, yeah, he’s not around. Again, the great respect of my cast and crew allowed me the moments to step back and deal with the fear and overwhelming pressure of the day without collapsing. My Ipod helped, too.
After that, you’d think I’d learn how to handle my fear. Not. Fear is now driving me to cut someone very dear to me out of my life because I’m too afraid to talk to him about how I feel. Rather than suck up the fear, tell him how I feel (including the angry stuff as well), and take the chance he doesn’t feel the same way or that he does and his fear is holding him back, I’m ready to say good-bye. Okay, maybe not ready but prepared to. Every moment spent with him is colored by my feelings and that’s not good for either of us. So rather than confront it, I’m giving into the fear and letting something very precious go.
And I look at him and I see the fear there as well. This is probably just me projecting because, you know, I do that, but I think he’s afraid of even looking at how he might feel about me because of his own fear. He’s got a very nice, comfortable life right now, and getting involved with me, besides all the baggage that comes along with that, means changing things a great deal. Maybe he’s not ready for that. Maybe he’s afraid of getting hurt again, as we all are. I know him well enough that if I have really overstepped a line or really done harm to him, he would have shut me out completely by now. Instead, I get this weird push-pull feeling from him. He likes to have me around but I got too close so he’s pushed me away. Seems to be a male thing. Come here, I want to get to know you, gee, I like being around you, shit, I’m feeling something for you, bye. Okay, come back for a while, okay, I got my fix, now go away.
Then the fear and those damned clowns sneak in and go, you know, if you do cut him out of your life, he won’t notice anyway. You’re not that important to him. You’re just a friend, just someone he’s obligated to for many reasons, none of which have anything to do with you personally. And when those obligations are gone, he will be, too.
I kept hoping for the universe to provide a time for a talk with him but I will admit that I think there were times provided and my fear overruled the universe. Then this fear feeds the anger I can’t deal with and that turns into depression because I feel so out of control with my life. Then the depression feeds the fear even more because it’s proving that it is right, that the fear knows me better than I know myself, and it drives me even further down.
So our lesson for this week is fear. I need to really look at this and figure out how to deal with it better. I need to maybe just take a step back for a while from him, really look at how I feel because it’s so confused and complicated and has been. I need to look at the root of my fear with him and talking to him and see where it lies. Maybe there is a very valid reason for the fear, other than maybe he doesn’t feel the same. Maybe I’m just kidding myself and can’t face that either. That’s another fear, that I made all of this up, that he never cared for me any more than as a friend, and that I distorted the whole thing.
I just know that I need to deal with this one way or the other soon. I’m sure you’re all tired of hearing (reading?) me talk about this situation, because I sure am. Maybe it’s a part of moving on and I have to go through this process to prepare me for something else. That damned universe again. But some serious introspection is required, whether I want to do it or not.
Friday, May 19, 2006
Frustration at everything.
Very frustrated. No beach, too much work. No sleep, too much work. Didn’t get CSI last night, season finale, so now have to wait for rerun. I feel like I’m working so hard for nothing right now. No social life to speak of unless I want to go sit in a movie theater alone. So angry today, so frustrated. So many things.
Deep in blue
Awfully dark blue today. Realizations abounded last night on the drive home, leading to a head full of decisions I don’t want to make but have to. One single choice that is heart-breaking. Wondering how I keep finding myself in this situation. Actually, the choice is not mine, really. I’m just catching up with it. Don’t know how to let this go, don’t know how to get past it but I’ve got to. Lost and wandering today in a sea of sadness, loss of something I had no right to, knowing he won’t miss me, I am no loss. Gonna try to go to the beach today. Maybe the answers are there in the waves.
Listening to “Watching You” by Melissa Etheridge. Truer words never spoken.
Listening to “Watching You” by Melissa Etheridge. Truer words never spoken.
Wednesday, May 17, 2006
And his life goes on...
So my ex is bringing his girlfriend to the opening of the new show at the Ark Theatre tonight. I find myself full of conflicting emotions, which probably isn’t surprising.
I’m glad he was thoughtful enough to give me a very subtle head’s up (oh, by the way, bringing K tonight, if she’s back from out of town) so at least I know. I’ve met her a couple of times but never in the context of “girlfriend.”
It’s weird. Part of me feels like, wow, he found someone else to put up with his shit. Good for him. I hope she knows what she’s getting into. She reminds me very much of the woman he was engaged to a long time ago in Fresno. That’s just a first impression, mind you.
Part of me hopes he’s learned something through his on-going sessions with a therapist, as I have. I hope he’s becoming better at controlling his control, better at controlling his tongue. Mind you, when we started dating, he wasn’t as bitter and angry as he was at the end and, since she’s not me, a lot of his anger towards the end was specifically about me so maybe she won’t have to deal with that.
Part of me is angry, irrationally, inexplicably angry. Angry that he could find someone and I couldn’t. Angry that he found someone, period, whether it’s short term or a long term thing. Angry that he couldn’t – we couldn’t – work things out. Angry at myself for letting him go. Angry at the OOMA that he won’t be on my arm tonight and that he’s all the confusing, conflicting things that he is to me.
I don’t want him back, certainly, but just the fact that he’s got somebody else makes me… angry, wounded, sad, happy, relieved, frustrated and a whole bunch of other great adjectives I can’t think of right now.
Mostly, it makes me look at my life and ponder why I don’t have somebody. Mind you, my focus has been narrowed to one particular person, making it difficult to see if there’s anyone else out there worth pursuing. But I also know that, at this point, my life is meant to be solitary. I’m not sure I could juggle a relationship right now. But knowing he’s got somebody makes me realize how alone I am and just exacerbates the loneliness. Friends are great and I’ve got a lot of them and I’ve been making a point to be more social and not isolate myself lately to keep the clowns away but it still makes for empty nights and aching for someone.
I just know that, tonight, no matter how I feel about him, I’m going to be a little bit heartbroken when I see him hold her hand or put his arm around her because that used to be me. And I know I’m going to envy their newness, their burgeoning relationship because that’s the best time, the start of something, when you don’t know all the shit about the other person and when you’re just discovering the best things about them. And he does have a lot of really wonderful things about him. And I’m going to hurt a little, knowing that we could have maybe made it work had we started earlier, we could have been together tonight, if we had both just been a little less stubborn, a little more open, a little less wounded by each other. And I’ll probably come home and, for a little while, wish it was our home and that he was here, like he used to be. Hopefully, after that, I’ll realize why he’s with her and not me and realize how much I really do love my life, despite my bitching and moaning about it, and let it – and him – go, wishing them both well, wishing him all the happiness he is capable of that he couldn’t find with me. And sending him back a little piece of my heart, hoping he’ll keep safe the memory of our beginnings and our joys and our best times.
I’m glad he was thoughtful enough to give me a very subtle head’s up (oh, by the way, bringing K tonight, if she’s back from out of town) so at least I know. I’ve met her a couple of times but never in the context of “girlfriend.”
It’s weird. Part of me feels like, wow, he found someone else to put up with his shit. Good for him. I hope she knows what she’s getting into. She reminds me very much of the woman he was engaged to a long time ago in Fresno. That’s just a first impression, mind you.
Part of me hopes he’s learned something through his on-going sessions with a therapist, as I have. I hope he’s becoming better at controlling his control, better at controlling his tongue. Mind you, when we started dating, he wasn’t as bitter and angry as he was at the end and, since she’s not me, a lot of his anger towards the end was specifically about me so maybe she won’t have to deal with that.
Part of me is angry, irrationally, inexplicably angry. Angry that he could find someone and I couldn’t. Angry that he found someone, period, whether it’s short term or a long term thing. Angry that he couldn’t – we couldn’t – work things out. Angry at myself for letting him go. Angry at the OOMA that he won’t be on my arm tonight and that he’s all the confusing, conflicting things that he is to me.
I don’t want him back, certainly, but just the fact that he’s got somebody else makes me… angry, wounded, sad, happy, relieved, frustrated and a whole bunch of other great adjectives I can’t think of right now.
Mostly, it makes me look at my life and ponder why I don’t have somebody. Mind you, my focus has been narrowed to one particular person, making it difficult to see if there’s anyone else out there worth pursuing. But I also know that, at this point, my life is meant to be solitary. I’m not sure I could juggle a relationship right now. But knowing he’s got somebody makes me realize how alone I am and just exacerbates the loneliness. Friends are great and I’ve got a lot of them and I’ve been making a point to be more social and not isolate myself lately to keep the clowns away but it still makes for empty nights and aching for someone.
I just know that, tonight, no matter how I feel about him, I’m going to be a little bit heartbroken when I see him hold her hand or put his arm around her because that used to be me. And I know I’m going to envy their newness, their burgeoning relationship because that’s the best time, the start of something, when you don’t know all the shit about the other person and when you’re just discovering the best things about them. And he does have a lot of really wonderful things about him. And I’m going to hurt a little, knowing that we could have maybe made it work had we started earlier, we could have been together tonight, if we had both just been a little less stubborn, a little more open, a little less wounded by each other. And I’ll probably come home and, for a little while, wish it was our home and that he was here, like he used to be. Hopefully, after that, I’ll realize why he’s with her and not me and realize how much I really do love my life, despite my bitching and moaning about it, and let it – and him – go, wishing them both well, wishing him all the happiness he is capable of that he couldn’t find with me. And sending him back a little piece of my heart, hoping he’ll keep safe the memory of our beginnings and our joys and our best times.
Looking back, looking forward
Wow, I’ve spent six months obsessing on him. At first, it was just a simple crush, a simple exploration of interest. I like him, does he like me? And I think he did – for a while. Then maybe it waned on his part. All I know is that I went back through some journals tonight and read my pathetic whimperings about him. Why doesn’t he tell me how he feels? Does he feel the same way I do? Will he? Did he? Does he? Oh, look, he brought another girl with him, gee, I wonder what that means, and on and on and on.
It means I’m so fucking stupid. I keep asking for signs and I keep getting them but they’re not the signs I want so I ignore them. Oh, that makes sense. I did it for 16 years in my marriage, why not out here in the real world?
Epiphany hurts. He gave me something, he gave me feelings, he gave me praise, he gave me pleasure. I gave him my heart. He didn’t take it. I kept trying to stuff my heart into his hands, even though they were behind his back, not wanting to take it. And I saw it, I just ignored it.
It’s not because he’s a terrible person or a bad man. I think he’s not ready for anything like this, whether with me or with anybody else. Watching him, I can see this avoidance of intimacy, the avoidance of anything that could lead to something serious, something more that would disrupt the solitary life he has worked so hard to create. I see the confused young man he must have been, I see the hurt young man he must have been. I see his insecurity and his fear and his need for something more, just like mine, but he’s not ready to let his out yet. I see the wall he has carefully built around his heart, whether he realizes it or not, and I see that I’m not ready to scale that. I’m not sure he is ready for anybody to scale it.
So maybe these months of obsessing and wondering and confusion and lack of clarity have been to lead me to this place. I love him, I always will. He gave me so much when I needed it but he is not the one to give me more. And I’m not the one to give him what he wants. The walls around us and between us are too high, too slick, too difficult to climb. And we’re both so tired of trying to climb walls. We’re both so tired of wanting, needing, aching. We’ve both closed off to that – him a long time ago, I think, and me much more recently.
I wish I were the one he is seeking. I so wanted to be because it would be so easy. He’s there, I’m here, we’re both here. I know him, he knows me. We’re so comfortable together that it’s scary. But comfort isn’t enough, I guess.
This has been a hard journey, a journey that actually started almost a year ago with a fascination with someone else, someone else who made me feel important and beautiful and interesting. Someone else who made me think that there could be something, even though there was no possibility of it. Someone who ended up hurting me so badly, wounding me so to the core that I can’t talk about it even now. Someone I let in and didn’t learn from. My journal echoes the things I have been saying recently – I pushed him too hard, I crossed the line, I misread things, I’m so stupid.
I just hope I’ve learned this time before he can hurt me as the other one did. I don’t think he’s capable of that kind of wounding. The other one seems to be an expert at that kind of hurt. I don’t think this one is. The hurt that exists is hurt I’ve created myself by letting myself blindly love, blindly care, blindly reach out to one who isn’t reaching back.
So I’ll leave him there, with his hands behind his back, understand that he is not capable of what I want, no matter how much I want to force him to be. Understand that he will always be important to me and he will (hopefully) be in my life for a long time and that we can enjoy each other and be close and be intimate to a point as the good friends I hope that we are. Understand that there is a line drawn in the sand – whether it’s by him or by me – and I have to learn to, first of all, see that line and, secondly, respect it. And maybe with leaving that part of us behind, it will free both of us to find what we are looking for, if we can both be open to it. I want nothing but the best for him and, if it ain’t me, then I hope it’s someone amazing because he deserves that, as do I.
It means I’m so fucking stupid. I keep asking for signs and I keep getting them but they’re not the signs I want so I ignore them. Oh, that makes sense. I did it for 16 years in my marriage, why not out here in the real world?
Epiphany hurts. He gave me something, he gave me feelings, he gave me praise, he gave me pleasure. I gave him my heart. He didn’t take it. I kept trying to stuff my heart into his hands, even though they were behind his back, not wanting to take it. And I saw it, I just ignored it.
It’s not because he’s a terrible person or a bad man. I think he’s not ready for anything like this, whether with me or with anybody else. Watching him, I can see this avoidance of intimacy, the avoidance of anything that could lead to something serious, something more that would disrupt the solitary life he has worked so hard to create. I see the confused young man he must have been, I see the hurt young man he must have been. I see his insecurity and his fear and his need for something more, just like mine, but he’s not ready to let his out yet. I see the wall he has carefully built around his heart, whether he realizes it or not, and I see that I’m not ready to scale that. I’m not sure he is ready for anybody to scale it.
So maybe these months of obsessing and wondering and confusion and lack of clarity have been to lead me to this place. I love him, I always will. He gave me so much when I needed it but he is not the one to give me more. And I’m not the one to give him what he wants. The walls around us and between us are too high, too slick, too difficult to climb. And we’re both so tired of trying to climb walls. We’re both so tired of wanting, needing, aching. We’ve both closed off to that – him a long time ago, I think, and me much more recently.
I wish I were the one he is seeking. I so wanted to be because it would be so easy. He’s there, I’m here, we’re both here. I know him, he knows me. We’re so comfortable together that it’s scary. But comfort isn’t enough, I guess.
This has been a hard journey, a journey that actually started almost a year ago with a fascination with someone else, someone else who made me feel important and beautiful and interesting. Someone else who made me think that there could be something, even though there was no possibility of it. Someone who ended up hurting me so badly, wounding me so to the core that I can’t talk about it even now. Someone I let in and didn’t learn from. My journal echoes the things I have been saying recently – I pushed him too hard, I crossed the line, I misread things, I’m so stupid.
I just hope I’ve learned this time before he can hurt me as the other one did. I don’t think he’s capable of that kind of wounding. The other one seems to be an expert at that kind of hurt. I don’t think this one is. The hurt that exists is hurt I’ve created myself by letting myself blindly love, blindly care, blindly reach out to one who isn’t reaching back.
So I’ll leave him there, with his hands behind his back, understand that he is not capable of what I want, no matter how much I want to force him to be. Understand that he will always be important to me and he will (hopefully) be in my life for a long time and that we can enjoy each other and be close and be intimate to a point as the good friends I hope that we are. Understand that there is a line drawn in the sand – whether it’s by him or by me – and I have to learn to, first of all, see that line and, secondly, respect it. And maybe with leaving that part of us behind, it will free both of us to find what we are looking for, if we can both be open to it. I want nothing but the best for him and, if it ain’t me, then I hope it’s someone amazing because he deserves that, as do I.
Tuesday, May 16, 2006
No Holds Barred...
We, as humans, seem to lack the ability to communicate. This has been an issue of mine for a very long time, something I’ve discussed at length with my therapist and with all of you on this blog.
I guess why it’s on my mind lately is twofold.
First, my good friend, Erik, and I had a long talk the other night about communicating, especially when it comes to someone we are interested in or care about. Erik’s been kind of pursuing this girl we both know and he’s been getting a great deal of mixed signals from her. Being an expert on mixed signals – both giving and getting – Erik thought he’d call me to see if I could make sense of this. Since I know this girl and I’ve seen her go through the same routine with one of my favorite guys, I told Erik to forget about her, she does this. She seems to want to date you, talks with you, seems to express a great deal of interest, yet when push comes to shove, she back-pedals and pulls away. Then we talked about our exes and the problems inherent with communicating with them. I’m lucky, I only talk to mine when necessary. Erik shares custody of his children with his ex and therefore must communicate with her constantly. It’s an on-going battle of wills sometimes and, sometimes, I think just the continued lack of ability to communicate that we all seem to have.
We talked for a long time about being alone and being lonely after being in long term relationships and it was nice to talk to someone who’s going through what I’m going through. We separated from our spouses at almost the same time so we’re both in the same place just about emotionally. Only he’s a guy so he handles things differently than I do. I’m sure he doesn’t spend copious amounts of time weeping uncontrollably, although I am sure he has shed his fair share of tears in this past year, especially where his children are involved. He knows about the OOMA and I think has his own as well.
The second reason this is on my mind is in relation to the object of my affection (OOMA). Although I am putting this obsession and silliness behind me, I am looking at why he affected me, why I fucked things up like I did, and how to keep him in my life without fucking things up further. He is someone who is and has been very important to me and very close to me yet I was never able to say the things to him that I should have said that might have cleared up confusion earlier, might have either brought us together or pushed us apart earlier, might have just made this whole this less murky, less muddy and much easier on both of us.
And it’s not just a matter of being able to say I’m in love with you or I’m crazy about you or things of that ilk. It’s really saying what you feel. He knows he’s important to me because I’ve told him that much and if he still reads this blathering diatribe of my life, then he knows how important to me he is. Yet I’ve done some things in the past few months that I’m sure have been weird and odd and hurtful that have sent their fair share of mixed messages his way, leaving the door firmly closed on any further discussion.
In watching the season finales of a couple of my favorite shows (CSI New York and Grey’s Anatomy), the focus seemed to be on the things we don’t say to each other or the missed opportunities to say things to each other. On top of that, a friend of mine and my ex’s is holding a bedside vigil for his partner of more than 25 years as he loses his struggle with cancer. All I can think of is that I never told this man, who is not a close friend but someone who has supported both my ex and I quite strongly over the years, what his support and his encouragement meant to me. He always treated me well and always made me feel special. His spirit will be missed greatly by those he touched.
All this made me think about why we avoid telling those who are most important to us what we feel and how they make us feel. I know there is the fear of rejection and all that crap. But if this person who you adore got hit by a bus tomorrow, would you regret not saying these things to them? Whether they’re your friend, your lover, the object of your affection, your sister, your parent. What would you say to them if you knew they were going to be gone? And would you be able to say anything even with that knowledge? I tend to think we’d still hesitate. It was hard to say “I love you” to my dad as he went in for his pacemaker surgery. With his damaged heart, there was a very real possibility he wouldn’t come out of it. Yet I struggled to tell this man, who has shaped my life and my gift and my heart, how much I love him and how important he is to me. And if I can’t tell him that, how can I tell the OOMA how I feel?
I think we should pick a day that is No Holds Barred Day. You can say anything you want to anyone you want – good, bad or otherwise – with no repercussions. Tell the one you love that you love them and that you understand and accept that they may not love you back but you felt it was important that they know. Tell someone how their behavior has hurt you and that they may not be aware that their behavior could hurt others. Tell someone how they have inspired you, moved you, touched your heart or stepped on your toes. And no one is allowed to be hurt, to strike back, to take any of this with anything but the knowledge that it is No Holds Barred Day and they should feel free to tell you how they feel about you. Then we all go on knowing where we stand, knowing how that other person we’ve been thinking about and wondering about feels about us. Sure, there’s bound to be hurt feelings and crushed hearts but at least the air would be cleared and we would KNOW!
So if, in the next few days, I say something odd or something way too personal or way too intimate to you, know that I’ve declared my own No Holds Barred Day and you should feel free to let me know when yours is so I can participate. Choose wisely but choose.
I guess why it’s on my mind lately is twofold.
First, my good friend, Erik, and I had a long talk the other night about communicating, especially when it comes to someone we are interested in or care about. Erik’s been kind of pursuing this girl we both know and he’s been getting a great deal of mixed signals from her. Being an expert on mixed signals – both giving and getting – Erik thought he’d call me to see if I could make sense of this. Since I know this girl and I’ve seen her go through the same routine with one of my favorite guys, I told Erik to forget about her, she does this. She seems to want to date you, talks with you, seems to express a great deal of interest, yet when push comes to shove, she back-pedals and pulls away. Then we talked about our exes and the problems inherent with communicating with them. I’m lucky, I only talk to mine when necessary. Erik shares custody of his children with his ex and therefore must communicate with her constantly. It’s an on-going battle of wills sometimes and, sometimes, I think just the continued lack of ability to communicate that we all seem to have.
We talked for a long time about being alone and being lonely after being in long term relationships and it was nice to talk to someone who’s going through what I’m going through. We separated from our spouses at almost the same time so we’re both in the same place just about emotionally. Only he’s a guy so he handles things differently than I do. I’m sure he doesn’t spend copious amounts of time weeping uncontrollably, although I am sure he has shed his fair share of tears in this past year, especially where his children are involved. He knows about the OOMA and I think has his own as well.
The second reason this is on my mind is in relation to the object of my affection (OOMA). Although I am putting this obsession and silliness behind me, I am looking at why he affected me, why I fucked things up like I did, and how to keep him in my life without fucking things up further. He is someone who is and has been very important to me and very close to me yet I was never able to say the things to him that I should have said that might have cleared up confusion earlier, might have either brought us together or pushed us apart earlier, might have just made this whole this less murky, less muddy and much easier on both of us.
And it’s not just a matter of being able to say I’m in love with you or I’m crazy about you or things of that ilk. It’s really saying what you feel. He knows he’s important to me because I’ve told him that much and if he still reads this blathering diatribe of my life, then he knows how important to me he is. Yet I’ve done some things in the past few months that I’m sure have been weird and odd and hurtful that have sent their fair share of mixed messages his way, leaving the door firmly closed on any further discussion.
In watching the season finales of a couple of my favorite shows (CSI New York and Grey’s Anatomy), the focus seemed to be on the things we don’t say to each other or the missed opportunities to say things to each other. On top of that, a friend of mine and my ex’s is holding a bedside vigil for his partner of more than 25 years as he loses his struggle with cancer. All I can think of is that I never told this man, who is not a close friend but someone who has supported both my ex and I quite strongly over the years, what his support and his encouragement meant to me. He always treated me well and always made me feel special. His spirit will be missed greatly by those he touched.
All this made me think about why we avoid telling those who are most important to us what we feel and how they make us feel. I know there is the fear of rejection and all that crap. But if this person who you adore got hit by a bus tomorrow, would you regret not saying these things to them? Whether they’re your friend, your lover, the object of your affection, your sister, your parent. What would you say to them if you knew they were going to be gone? And would you be able to say anything even with that knowledge? I tend to think we’d still hesitate. It was hard to say “I love you” to my dad as he went in for his pacemaker surgery. With his damaged heart, there was a very real possibility he wouldn’t come out of it. Yet I struggled to tell this man, who has shaped my life and my gift and my heart, how much I love him and how important he is to me. And if I can’t tell him that, how can I tell the OOMA how I feel?
I think we should pick a day that is No Holds Barred Day. You can say anything you want to anyone you want – good, bad or otherwise – with no repercussions. Tell the one you love that you love them and that you understand and accept that they may not love you back but you felt it was important that they know. Tell someone how their behavior has hurt you and that they may not be aware that their behavior could hurt others. Tell someone how they have inspired you, moved you, touched your heart or stepped on your toes. And no one is allowed to be hurt, to strike back, to take any of this with anything but the knowledge that it is No Holds Barred Day and they should feel free to tell you how they feel about you. Then we all go on knowing where we stand, knowing how that other person we’ve been thinking about and wondering about feels about us. Sure, there’s bound to be hurt feelings and crushed hearts but at least the air would be cleared and we would KNOW!
So if, in the next few days, I say something odd or something way too personal or way too intimate to you, know that I’ve declared my own No Holds Barred Day and you should feel free to let me know when yours is so I can participate. Choose wisely but choose.
Sunday, May 14, 2006
An anniversary gone by...
Our anniversary passed without a blip. I didn’t even notice it. I was picking up work tonight, thinking about something Donna said to me about the OOMA and stuff, started thinking about how long Donna and Tony had been married, realized that today is Mother’s Day, and suddenly, it hit me. May 11 was our anniversary. It would have been 15 years. We’d have been together almost 17 years. Wow. 17 years. And in less than a year, I forgot our anniversary.
Last year at this time, we had a huge fight about our anniversary. I had to be at a show that night (“Lloyd’s Prayer”) and he fought me about being there. I had to run sound because I was very particular about the sound and I couldn’t give it to someone else to run. I made many suggestions – let’s have dinner then go to the show; let’s celebrate the weekend before or the weekend after; how about the night before or the night after. None of these were right because he wanted to celebrate on our anniversary. I then brought up the fact that, with the path my career was taking, what would happen if I was directing a “paid” show and wasn’t available? That would be different because I would be getting paid, which made me feel that the work I had been doing meant nothing to him. I already knew we were on our way out, I was just biding my time.
It made me sad to realize that I spent almost a third of my adult life with this man and, after less than a year, I already have forgotten the most important day of our married life. What does that say about the last year of our married life?
Reading back through old journals and writing, things had been bad for so much longer than I want to admit, even now. And I’m sure he felt that way, as well. But we clung together because there was something that made us feel connected and, for a long time, our professional lives were so interconnected and worked so well that I think we mistook that for a personal relationship. I don’t think we had a personal relationship for a very long time. I have been lonely for a long time before we split up.
It’s made me feel sad and shed a few tears for what we have lost. I wish it could have been different. I wish he could have been a part of this film. I wish he could be here right now, next to me, being what I wanted him to be.
But, as I’ve realized through the past year, what I want and what he is are two very different things. It’s the same with the OOMA. I wanted him to be something that I thought he was and he wasn’t. And he won’t be that, as much as I want to will him to be.
So where does all this leave me? Alone in my living room, horoscopes that taunt me, the universe putting out very bizarre things that I can’t even begin to explain in this blog (Thursday night was just fraught with weirdness – sensing and knowing without a doubt that the OOMA was on my street as I was walking the dogs before Koji’s, a comment from him that made me sure he was there although he couldn’t/shouldn’t/wouldn’t have been there), then torturing me with horoscopes that promise wondrous things…
I’m about to move into my own apartment on June 1st and I’m thrilled and looking forward to living on my own for the first time in 17 years.
I remember moving into my own place after my first divorce. I was young, I was optimistic, I was willing to consider that there was someone else out there for me. I loved that apartment. It looked on to the legislative building in Winnipeg and it was so beautiful in the winter. I dated a very attractive albeit quite dumb guy for a very short time but at least I had someone to date for a while.
This time is different. I’m different. Again, I’m optimistic and excited about being on my own. Only this time, I think and feel like I’m going to be on my own for a long time. I’m not sure if there is another one out there, after having not succeeded twice. I’m not sure there is even another just-to-date one out there right now. I thought the OOMA would at least be someone to be with, someone I was comfortable with, someone who made me feel very, very special, which he still does. And I’m still very, very glad he’s in my life. But whether I’ve fucked it up, he’s fucked it up, we’re both not ready to even think about being together enough to be called together… anyway, I’m working very hard to put him behind me, keep him as a friend, not make him uncomfortable in my presence while I try to figure out what the hell I want in my life, if he’s someone I want in my life, if I even want someone in my life. I know the only thing I’m not looking forward to in my own place is that emptiness. At least here, there’s always my roomie to talk to, when she’s home. And she’s only going to be a door away. And Zadra’s always a phone call away and sometimes that’s close enough.
But I hope my own place will bring me to a place where I will be able to find someone to enjoy it with. I hope it is the start of the next phase of my life, where I will learn to really live on my terms, personally, professionally, romantically. I want to be able to invite someone over to sit on the couch, watch Deadwood or CSI or something entirely inane, drink something delicious, maybe even treat him to a home-cooked meal once in a while… okay, home-woked meal. Maybe eventually curl up in bed, watch Deadwood, CSI or something inane, wake to his sleepy, charming face. That would be nice.
In the meantime, anniversaries are behind me, he is behind me and there is nothing wrong with that.
Last year at this time, we had a huge fight about our anniversary. I had to be at a show that night (“Lloyd’s Prayer”) and he fought me about being there. I had to run sound because I was very particular about the sound and I couldn’t give it to someone else to run. I made many suggestions – let’s have dinner then go to the show; let’s celebrate the weekend before or the weekend after; how about the night before or the night after. None of these were right because he wanted to celebrate on our anniversary. I then brought up the fact that, with the path my career was taking, what would happen if I was directing a “paid” show and wasn’t available? That would be different because I would be getting paid, which made me feel that the work I had been doing meant nothing to him. I already knew we were on our way out, I was just biding my time.
It made me sad to realize that I spent almost a third of my adult life with this man and, after less than a year, I already have forgotten the most important day of our married life. What does that say about the last year of our married life?
Reading back through old journals and writing, things had been bad for so much longer than I want to admit, even now. And I’m sure he felt that way, as well. But we clung together because there was something that made us feel connected and, for a long time, our professional lives were so interconnected and worked so well that I think we mistook that for a personal relationship. I don’t think we had a personal relationship for a very long time. I have been lonely for a long time before we split up.
It’s made me feel sad and shed a few tears for what we have lost. I wish it could have been different. I wish he could have been a part of this film. I wish he could be here right now, next to me, being what I wanted him to be.
But, as I’ve realized through the past year, what I want and what he is are two very different things. It’s the same with the OOMA. I wanted him to be something that I thought he was and he wasn’t. And he won’t be that, as much as I want to will him to be.
So where does all this leave me? Alone in my living room, horoscopes that taunt me, the universe putting out very bizarre things that I can’t even begin to explain in this blog (Thursday night was just fraught with weirdness – sensing and knowing without a doubt that the OOMA was on my street as I was walking the dogs before Koji’s, a comment from him that made me sure he was there although he couldn’t/shouldn’t/wouldn’t have been there), then torturing me with horoscopes that promise wondrous things…
I’m about to move into my own apartment on June 1st and I’m thrilled and looking forward to living on my own for the first time in 17 years.
I remember moving into my own place after my first divorce. I was young, I was optimistic, I was willing to consider that there was someone else out there for me. I loved that apartment. It looked on to the legislative building in Winnipeg and it was so beautiful in the winter. I dated a very attractive albeit quite dumb guy for a very short time but at least I had someone to date for a while.
This time is different. I’m different. Again, I’m optimistic and excited about being on my own. Only this time, I think and feel like I’m going to be on my own for a long time. I’m not sure if there is another one out there, after having not succeeded twice. I’m not sure there is even another just-to-date one out there right now. I thought the OOMA would at least be someone to be with, someone I was comfortable with, someone who made me feel very, very special, which he still does. And I’m still very, very glad he’s in my life. But whether I’ve fucked it up, he’s fucked it up, we’re both not ready to even think about being together enough to be called together… anyway, I’m working very hard to put him behind me, keep him as a friend, not make him uncomfortable in my presence while I try to figure out what the hell I want in my life, if he’s someone I want in my life, if I even want someone in my life. I know the only thing I’m not looking forward to in my own place is that emptiness. At least here, there’s always my roomie to talk to, when she’s home. And she’s only going to be a door away. And Zadra’s always a phone call away and sometimes that’s close enough.
But I hope my own place will bring me to a place where I will be able to find someone to enjoy it with. I hope it is the start of the next phase of my life, where I will learn to really live on my terms, personally, professionally, romantically. I want to be able to invite someone over to sit on the couch, watch Deadwood or CSI or something entirely inane, drink something delicious, maybe even treat him to a home-cooked meal once in a while… okay, home-woked meal. Maybe eventually curl up in bed, watch Deadwood, CSI or something inane, wake to his sleepy, charming face. That would be nice.
In the meantime, anniversaries are behind me, he is behind me and there is nothing wrong with that.
Saturday, May 13, 2006
Then the universe mocks me...
My horoscope today:
Tonight features the greatest kiss in your romantic history.
Well.....?
I'm waiting...
Tonight features the greatest kiss in your romantic history.
Well.....?
I'm waiting...
So while I'm putting things out to the universe…
...since it seems to be listening at the moment, I have a twofold request:
Option 1 – OOMA catches up on reading my bogs, realizes that he’s been in the places I’m talking about, starts to finally friggin’ connect the dots, realizes he missed the booty call (damn!, he says), realizes he’s madly, deeply, truly in love with me and now that I am going to have my own place, he simply must and will declare his love for me. (Yeah, that’ll happen.) Barring that…
Option 2- How ‘bout a date? Just a date. With a guy. Not particular right now. Would be nice if it’s someone I know, someone I want to hang out with. Not asking much. Some entertainment. Okay, since I’m asking, how about letting me meet someone who combines all the best of my three fav guys (Chairman, AJ and Peter, should you need a reminder) – Chairman’s joy and passion and clarity, AJ’s cerebral-ness and humor, Peter’s soul and spirit – throw in a little George Clooney-ness, just ‘cuz, add in a touch of Jon Stewart, let him play guitar (sucker for a guy with a guitar) and let him think I’m amazing. Not too much to ask, is it?
Just thought I’d put that out there, universe, in case you’re taking orders right now.
Thanks.
You know where to find me.
Option 1 – OOMA catches up on reading my bogs, realizes that he’s been in the places I’m talking about, starts to finally friggin’ connect the dots, realizes he missed the booty call (damn!, he says), realizes he’s madly, deeply, truly in love with me and now that I am going to have my own place, he simply must and will declare his love for me. (Yeah, that’ll happen.) Barring that…
Option 2- How ‘bout a date? Just a date. With a guy. Not particular right now. Would be nice if it’s someone I know, someone I want to hang out with. Not asking much. Some entertainment. Okay, since I’m asking, how about letting me meet someone who combines all the best of my three fav guys (Chairman, AJ and Peter, should you need a reminder) – Chairman’s joy and passion and clarity, AJ’s cerebral-ness and humor, Peter’s soul and spirit – throw in a little George Clooney-ness, just ‘cuz, add in a touch of Jon Stewart, let him play guitar (sucker for a guy with a guitar) and let him think I’m amazing. Not too much to ask, is it?
Just thought I’d put that out there, universe, in case you’re taking orders right now.
Thanks.
You know where to find me.
Moving, moving, moving...
I’m moving.
In 17 days.
Like anything else in my life, change comes with challenge.
Some of you already know about this so feel free to skip or skim until you find something more interesting further down.
My neighbor, Angela, apparently is an ambassador of some sort. We’ve waved hello and nodded politely at each in the walkways. The other day, she needed quarters to finish drying her laundry and I gave her the required amount and told her not to worry about giving me a dollar, give the four quarters to someone else who was stranded by the dryer. Later that day, I was chatting with my other neighbor, Stephanie, and saying that I thought I was about ready to start looking for my own place, maybe find something over the summer. I asked if she heard of anything, would she let me know. Boy, did she. The next afternoon, I’m off to meet Marie Rose for coffee and Stephanie stops me and tells me I MUST talk to Angela. She’s heading out of town for months and wants someone to basically live in her apartment while she is gone so she can keep the apartment and have somewhere to land for a couple of weeks when she returns. Then she’ll be off again in a few weeks, to return again some time later. It’s a two bedroom apartment. She’ll store her stuff in one bedroom, the person would basically have the rest of the apartment to themselves, to do with as they pleace. I talk to Angela, she thinks I’m great because I gave her four quarters in the laundry room and, suddenly, I am moving as of July 1st. Great. Perfect. Tiffany’s out of town but she was getting back the next day (yesterday) and that will give her a month and a half to find someone, give me some time to put the money together, etc.
Oh, then there’s the monkey wrench.
Angela knocks on my door last night around 6PM. By the way, decided she’s gonna leave on June 1st instead of the end of June and if I want the apartment, I need to get her the June rent and security deposit before she leaves. She was very nice and even offered to find someone to sublet for the summer and let me take over in September. But, you know me, I love a challenge. And I really want this place. So I now have to figure out how to come up with $675 x 2 for June rent and deposit, and $250 to cover half of June, as I have to give Tiffany 30 days notice so she can find another roomie. Of course, my parents are more than willing to help out but I’d like to not use the Bank of Parents again so soon after they helped me with Cinderella.
So, I guess I’m emptying my storage unit, selling whatever I can out of that. I may have a yard sale, if I can find someone with a yard I can borrow. I’ll probably start up with doing open air markets with my jewelry and my collaged notebooks again as soon as possible because that can be very quick money. Although I have to buy the books to decorate and clay to make jewelry and leather to string it and…. auuuuugggh!
But, in the end, hopefully, June 1st, I’ll be in essentially my own place. Funny what happens when you put things out to the universe. It answers, although sometimes not quite the way you expected.
And Tiffany now needs a roommate for either June 1st or 15th. If you need a place or know someone who does, email me and I’ll put you in touch with her. The apartment is beautiful. She’s done a lovely job with painting and decorating it. And Tiff’s a great gal, crazy fun kinda gal. So let me know if you’re interested.
Meanwhile, I hope to have a house-warming/Cinderella wrap party once I get settled in my new digs and before the 48 Hour Film Project at the end of June.
In 17 days.
Like anything else in my life, change comes with challenge.
Some of you already know about this so feel free to skip or skim until you find something more interesting further down.
My neighbor, Angela, apparently is an ambassador of some sort. We’ve waved hello and nodded politely at each in the walkways. The other day, she needed quarters to finish drying her laundry and I gave her the required amount and told her not to worry about giving me a dollar, give the four quarters to someone else who was stranded by the dryer. Later that day, I was chatting with my other neighbor, Stephanie, and saying that I thought I was about ready to start looking for my own place, maybe find something over the summer. I asked if she heard of anything, would she let me know. Boy, did she. The next afternoon, I’m off to meet Marie Rose for coffee and Stephanie stops me and tells me I MUST talk to Angela. She’s heading out of town for months and wants someone to basically live in her apartment while she is gone so she can keep the apartment and have somewhere to land for a couple of weeks when she returns. Then she’ll be off again in a few weeks, to return again some time later. It’s a two bedroom apartment. She’ll store her stuff in one bedroom, the person would basically have the rest of the apartment to themselves, to do with as they pleace. I talk to Angela, she thinks I’m great because I gave her four quarters in the laundry room and, suddenly, I am moving as of July 1st. Great. Perfect. Tiffany’s out of town but she was getting back the next day (yesterday) and that will give her a month and a half to find someone, give me some time to put the money together, etc.
Oh, then there’s the monkey wrench.
Angela knocks on my door last night around 6PM. By the way, decided she’s gonna leave on June 1st instead of the end of June and if I want the apartment, I need to get her the June rent and security deposit before she leaves. She was very nice and even offered to find someone to sublet for the summer and let me take over in September. But, you know me, I love a challenge. And I really want this place. So I now have to figure out how to come up with $675 x 2 for June rent and deposit, and $250 to cover half of June, as I have to give Tiffany 30 days notice so she can find another roomie. Of course, my parents are more than willing to help out but I’d like to not use the Bank of Parents again so soon after they helped me with Cinderella.
So, I guess I’m emptying my storage unit, selling whatever I can out of that. I may have a yard sale, if I can find someone with a yard I can borrow. I’ll probably start up with doing open air markets with my jewelry and my collaged notebooks again as soon as possible because that can be very quick money. Although I have to buy the books to decorate and clay to make jewelry and leather to string it and…. auuuuugggh!
But, in the end, hopefully, June 1st, I’ll be in essentially my own place. Funny what happens when you put things out to the universe. It answers, although sometimes not quite the way you expected.
And Tiffany now needs a roommate for either June 1st or 15th. If you need a place or know someone who does, email me and I’ll put you in touch with her. The apartment is beautiful. She’s done a lovely job with painting and decorating it. And Tiff’s a great gal, crazy fun kinda gal. So let me know if you’re interested.
Meanwhile, I hope to have a house-warming/Cinderella wrap party once I get settled in my new digs and before the 48 Hour Film Project at the end of June.
Friday, May 12, 2006
Of whiskey, high heels and cat food.
Okay, boy, am I a lightweight. I had one shot of Jamesons tonight and I got so buzzed, it’s stupid. Of course, couple that with high heels that I’m not used to and my favorite moderately sexy skirt with the slit at the thigh, and you have a recipe for trouble… especially with the whiskey. Luckily, I was with friends I trust.
I had such a great time tonight at Koji’s. I always love going because the crowd there is so warm and friendly, no matter how badly I suck when I sing. And I’m getting braver, trying things I don’t know too well, just getting up there and singing as much as I can. I even let Chairman do the stick-your-finger-in-the-book method of picking a song last week and it worked out well – You’re So Vain, luckily a song that I know.
Okay, I just discovered I cannot type when I’m a little buzzed.
For the first time in a very long time, I felt great tonight. I thought I looked quite lovely, thank you very much. Chose the old school 1940s kind of sexy, at least I hope. Although I ended up close-dancing with Ric, the gorgeous but absolutely gay host, which doesn’t really say much, does it? Hung out with my faithful sidekick, Logi-Gal, and Michelle for a while, which was lovely. I don’t get to hang out with the gals enough. Sang a couple of times – “Just A Girl”, which I love and enjoy singing so much. Danced my ass off in my high heels, which was a whole lotta fun. Chairman sang “Soul Man,” which is one of my favorites that he sings. Joy personified, that man.
Discovered tonight how much I enjoy that comfortable intimacy that we all have together. Just easy, comfortable contact, conversation, everything. We don’t have to talk to each other constantly, just a look or a touch or a laugh and we all know what it means. I haven’t had that since high school, I don’t think, with my theater buddies and my best friends. Which makes sense since this gang is pretty much composed of that as well – theater buddies and best friends.
With finally beginning to take ownership of myself and my gifts and just the person that I am, it makes nights like tonight even sweeter. I didn’t think about what person I had to be, who I should present, how I should react to things going on around me. I just was, for a change. Of course, the Jamesons helped.
God, walking to the car, I realized how much of a lightweight I am. I’m still quite buzzed, so pardon me for misspellings, grammatical errors and anything that doesn’t quite make sense. When Chairman walked me to my car (I’ll have to thank his mother if I ever meet her for raising such a wonderful son), he asked me if I was all right to drive home and I said, sure, fine, not a problem. Then he loaded my car up with two and a half cases of cat food for Twyla. His older cat is now on a special diet so Twyla gets to benefit from this. I probably shouldn’t have driven home, I realized about three blocks away. Not that I was drunk but I was a bit sluggish in my responses. Luckily, very few cars on the road on Los Feliz at 1:30 in the morning otherwise there might have been problems.
The bigger challenge came with getting the two and a half cases of cat food upstairs in my blurry condition with my high heels on. In my building, I wouldn’t walk around barefoot for way too many reasons to get into here. Let’s just imagine this – Susan, lightweight drinker, buzzed on whiskey, balancing cases of cat food, staggering in her high heels, trying to keep her skirt in a respectable position, climbing up a flight of stairs, trying to get the key in the lock and getting in the door with two Chihuahuas nipping at her feet. “I Love Lucy” eat your heart out.
What I realized tonight, through the blur of the alcohol, is that I am happy. I like feeling like this. These people all accept me for my gifts and my flaws, because they know I accept them that way, too. I am beginning to really learn to get out of my own way and my own head and not create drama where there isn’t any. I’m back to just accepting what is in front of me and appreciating it for what it is, not trying to make it something it’s not. That only gets me in trouble. Hopefully, this feeling will still be there at 7AM when I get up and finish the work I didn’t want to do tonight and move my car because it’s street cleaning day, which means there will be nowhere to move it to in the morning. So it’ll probably be sleepy coffee at Kaldi on Hyperion tomorrow (today), where there may be further adventures of the Wraith explored or maybe just some nonsense going on in my head or maybe tackle the rest of “Live at Five,” the screenplay I need to finish. Then lunch with my other favorite cheerleader, Zadra, and possibly poker tomorrow (tonight) night. Or a movie, as I have a free ticket. Not sure. Just gonna enjoy the day and the life that God and the universe has handed me lately. I just hope I can hold on to this for a longer period this time.
In the meantime, thanks for the pleasure tonight, guys. Ric, thanks for the thigh and the nuzzling. Patty, thanks for the sidekick-ness that is you. Michelle, always a pleasure to see you and never see you enough. Mark, my new friend, hope to see you outside of Koji’s some time. Erin, always a joy to be in your presence, Del is a lucky woman. And Chairman, thanks for being my cheerleader. I love you all very, very much, especially when there’s whiskey involved.
See ya all next week to start all over again!
I had such a great time tonight at Koji’s. I always love going because the crowd there is so warm and friendly, no matter how badly I suck when I sing. And I’m getting braver, trying things I don’t know too well, just getting up there and singing as much as I can. I even let Chairman do the stick-your-finger-in-the-book method of picking a song last week and it worked out well – You’re So Vain, luckily a song that I know.
Okay, I just discovered I cannot type when I’m a little buzzed.
For the first time in a very long time, I felt great tonight. I thought I looked quite lovely, thank you very much. Chose the old school 1940s kind of sexy, at least I hope. Although I ended up close-dancing with Ric, the gorgeous but absolutely gay host, which doesn’t really say much, does it? Hung out with my faithful sidekick, Logi-Gal, and Michelle for a while, which was lovely. I don’t get to hang out with the gals enough. Sang a couple of times – “Just A Girl”, which I love and enjoy singing so much. Danced my ass off in my high heels, which was a whole lotta fun. Chairman sang “Soul Man,” which is one of my favorites that he sings. Joy personified, that man.
Discovered tonight how much I enjoy that comfortable intimacy that we all have together. Just easy, comfortable contact, conversation, everything. We don’t have to talk to each other constantly, just a look or a touch or a laugh and we all know what it means. I haven’t had that since high school, I don’t think, with my theater buddies and my best friends. Which makes sense since this gang is pretty much composed of that as well – theater buddies and best friends.
With finally beginning to take ownership of myself and my gifts and just the person that I am, it makes nights like tonight even sweeter. I didn’t think about what person I had to be, who I should present, how I should react to things going on around me. I just was, for a change. Of course, the Jamesons helped.
God, walking to the car, I realized how much of a lightweight I am. I’m still quite buzzed, so pardon me for misspellings, grammatical errors and anything that doesn’t quite make sense. When Chairman walked me to my car (I’ll have to thank his mother if I ever meet her for raising such a wonderful son), he asked me if I was all right to drive home and I said, sure, fine, not a problem. Then he loaded my car up with two and a half cases of cat food for Twyla. His older cat is now on a special diet so Twyla gets to benefit from this. I probably shouldn’t have driven home, I realized about three blocks away. Not that I was drunk but I was a bit sluggish in my responses. Luckily, very few cars on the road on Los Feliz at 1:30 in the morning otherwise there might have been problems.
The bigger challenge came with getting the two and a half cases of cat food upstairs in my blurry condition with my high heels on. In my building, I wouldn’t walk around barefoot for way too many reasons to get into here. Let’s just imagine this – Susan, lightweight drinker, buzzed on whiskey, balancing cases of cat food, staggering in her high heels, trying to keep her skirt in a respectable position, climbing up a flight of stairs, trying to get the key in the lock and getting in the door with two Chihuahuas nipping at her feet. “I Love Lucy” eat your heart out.
What I realized tonight, through the blur of the alcohol, is that I am happy. I like feeling like this. These people all accept me for my gifts and my flaws, because they know I accept them that way, too. I am beginning to really learn to get out of my own way and my own head and not create drama where there isn’t any. I’m back to just accepting what is in front of me and appreciating it for what it is, not trying to make it something it’s not. That only gets me in trouble. Hopefully, this feeling will still be there at 7AM when I get up and finish the work I didn’t want to do tonight and move my car because it’s street cleaning day, which means there will be nowhere to move it to in the morning. So it’ll probably be sleepy coffee at Kaldi on Hyperion tomorrow (today), where there may be further adventures of the Wraith explored or maybe just some nonsense going on in my head or maybe tackle the rest of “Live at Five,” the screenplay I need to finish. Then lunch with my other favorite cheerleader, Zadra, and possibly poker tomorrow (tonight) night. Or a movie, as I have a free ticket. Not sure. Just gonna enjoy the day and the life that God and the universe has handed me lately. I just hope I can hold on to this for a longer period this time.
In the meantime, thanks for the pleasure tonight, guys. Ric, thanks for the thigh and the nuzzling. Patty, thanks for the sidekick-ness that is you. Michelle, always a pleasure to see you and never see you enough. Mark, my new friend, hope to see you outside of Koji’s some time. Erin, always a joy to be in your presence, Del is a lucky woman. And Chairman, thanks for being my cheerleader. I love you all very, very much, especially when there’s whiskey involved.
See ya all next week to start all over again!
Thursday, May 11, 2006
Letting go...
Dear OOMA:
Thank you for tolerating my obsession. Thank you for not running screaming for the hills. I fell for you at a time when I needed someone to put all the misplaced emotiions and affections I had and you happened to be there. You said the things no one has said to me in a long time. You treated me like I was so special and like I meant something. You treated me like I was worth something and I haven't had that in a long, long time. Thank you for giving me that gift. You will always be special in my heart, no matter where our journey takes us from here.
My gift to you is letting you go.
I came here to let you know
The letting go
Has taken place
I have held the winter's son
Become one
Set my pace
Isn't that what we wanted all along
Freedom like a stone
Maybe we were wrong
But I can say goodbye
Now that the passion's died
Still it comes so slow
The letting go
Piece by piece I take apart
This complicated heart
And I hope to find
Something I can prove is real
I can feel is truth
I can say is mine
That's all I ever wanted to be
The closer I got
The further I could see
But when lovers change
And the night feels strange
We choose our road
The letting go
I came here to let you know
The letting go
Has taken place
- Melissa Etheridge
Thank you for tolerating my obsession. Thank you for not running screaming for the hills. I fell for you at a time when I needed someone to put all the misplaced emotiions and affections I had and you happened to be there. You said the things no one has said to me in a long time. You treated me like I was so special and like I meant something. You treated me like I was worth something and I haven't had that in a long, long time. Thank you for giving me that gift. You will always be special in my heart, no matter where our journey takes us from here.
My gift to you is letting you go.
I came here to let you know
The letting go
Has taken place
I have held the winter's son
Become one
Set my pace
Isn't that what we wanted all along
Freedom like a stone
Maybe we were wrong
But I can say goodbye
Now that the passion's died
Still it comes so slow
The letting go
Piece by piece I take apart
This complicated heart
And I hope to find
Something I can prove is real
I can feel is truth
I can say is mine
That's all I ever wanted to be
The closer I got
The further I could see
But when lovers change
And the night feels strange
We choose our road
The letting go
I came here to let you know
The letting go
Has taken place
- Melissa Etheridge
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