Skip to main content

Oy, yay!

I really don't want to be writing this. No, no, no; not because I'm in some sour, pissy mood, like I had myself yesterday morning. No, actually yesterday turned out rather marvelous after that was posted, though later on.

No, the reason I'm resistant to any effort is I (think I) am sick. Head's all heavy, coughing, voice all fucked up (I sound like Philip DeFranco), and generally lethargic and ick feeling. I don't want to write this because I don't want to write, which is largely because I don't feel like doing anything right now.

As I said, though, yesterday turned out pretty fabulous--bad weather and all.

I guess I did a bit of praying. I wanted to stop feeling so frustrated and shitty about that guy and his possible indifference. I left out some bits, I think, about how I've gotten so good about being casual around him--just being friends, not being some desperate creeper. But, although sparing me a lot of frustration and let down, it somehow still frustrates me. Maybe it's that I have to take up this "unnatural", "discomforting" behavior to keep from being repulsive. Maybe it's that I still want him as badly as ever.

Like, I'll see him, and I'll be chill, and I'll hafta stop myself from putting myself in places where we'll "run into eachother" or he'll 'notice" me. And then an hour or few later it'll hit me--he'll be stuck in my head. And the feelings of foolishness and shame and reprehension. And it just pisses me off further. That I have to care, that I have to need his attention and approval so much that if he's unable to give it, my night/weekend/week is potentially ruined. It just seems so pathetic to me.

But somewhere in those prayers to be relieved in some way of that frustration, I realized that apparently part of me just doesn't want to let it go. That part of me almost enjoys it somehow. Maybe it's the thrill of imagined confirmation & validation. I don't know.

But even just realizing that--that I'm the one feeding this resentment and letting it eat away at me, no one else, and that I even was doing that--changed the course of the day. By the afternoon I was sitting in Starbucks (what!? I actually left the house!?) down in Dupont and I'd decided I was going to enjoy the gloomy/rainy weather. Just plain love it. And before long I was playing a sor tof "smiling game" with passersby. I didn't even care if they smiled back, I just wanted to give as warm and genuine a smile as I could, show them, mayhaps, the contentment and gratitude I was feeling.

Amusingly, the meeting I went to later was a step discussion on step 6. That got me thinking about character defects and how--in what ways, really--they're "removed". And it made so much sense of things. Hoorah for serendipity!

anyway, i'm literally about to pass out on my keyboard. I should sign off and take a nap before the meeting tonight...thank goodness I have tomorrow off.


Other things that might interest you...

This moment: A tattoo.

So I read Mrs. Dalloway in high school, and it was perhaps the most beautiful thing I'd ever read. One passage in particular, very early in the book, hit me hard with my first experience of the sublime, and stayed with me—and led at last to my first tattoo. In people’s eyes, in the swing, tramp, and trudge; in the bellow and the uproar; the carriages, motor cars, omnibuses, vans, sandwich men shuffling and swinging; brass bands; barrel organs; in the triumph and the jingle and the strange high singing of some aeroplane overhead was what she loved; life; London; this moment of June .  ( Emphasis added; full paragraph included below. From the full text of the novel as made available by the University of Adelaide. ) The paragraph this is from, the 4th paragraph of the novel, is the 1st passage with the stream of consciousness the book is famous for; although self-limited here, the flow is no less gorgeous. In the passage, Clarissa is walking on a street to get those famous fl

QP: Changes to come, I hope.

My grandmother passed away about 2 weeks ago. I hope to write about her more soon, but for this moment, I want to speak briefly about where I'm at overall: Her passing has led me to reevaluate aspects of my life because I'm realizing that the status quo amounts to just wasting my life away. (This is another "quick post," which means it's a short update that I likely didn't edit and revise quite as much as the more "thoughtful" pieces I aim for. I say this because I'm self-conscious and worry that you, my reader, will judge me!) I'm up in Boston and have today and tomorrow off, and I want to spend at least a portion of each day figuring out (some of) my life. I say this fully aware how often I've variously done so before: asserted a need for change, described how I was going to do it, made an attempt, then fallen off in the follow-through. I'm honestly not sure what to do about that, though. It frustrates me now just as much as eve

Sarracenia 'Ennui.'

I mentioned in a recent post  that even hybrids of the same species can demonstrate disparate variety. Which is the case with the other cultivar I discovered. Yes; there's another. I could go into how this variety among hybrids should surprise no one, but I'm not here to teach you genetics (poorly). No, I want to talk about my other big cultivar-related excitement: Sarracenia 'Ennui,' or so it's being called for now. I guess it's semiofficial now that I've "announced" it in a blog post. Welp. (My main hesitation in calling it this is that the name may already been claimed. But I think it's an  awesome  name for a plant and peculiarly kind of perfect for this one: It's got this muted glamour that feels not only somehow French but also weirdly existential...?) I found this beauty at Meadowview Biological Research Station . The other half of the main plant can still be found there, by the way, and that nursery has a gorgeous array of o