Progress

So I hit a bit of a depressive low late last night…all of it, the move, the uncertainty, the rejection, the homesickness, you name it, came crashing down.  Luckily, peacegrrl mom was there to talk me through it.  This morning I woke up to the pouring rain of Edouard (by the way, didn’t they make a big enough deal of that thing?  Yesterday the grocery store was practically wiped out, all over a few hours of rain.  Oh well–at least my sister got a day off out of it…) and decided to start crawling out of my hole.  Since I’m worrying about a bunch of stuff I can’t control, and since feeling badly about myself doesn’t seem to be getting me anywhere, I guess I should make a better effort to stop looking four steps ahead and just be.  Why is that so hard?

Anyway, I spent the day organizing and hanging up pictures and actually moving in to this apartment that I was so excited about, and yet have put so little effort into.  And I made serious knitting progress…

Behold…the back is finished!  Forgive the lousy picture-taking, but I was so anxious to show this off that I didn’t put a lot of thought into the photo shoot.  I’m amazed I’m making such progress on my first adult-sized sweater.

And I’m really proud of this…I managed to make the decreases for the armholes without completely assing

up the lace pattern.  Actually, that’s not quite true.  I originally DID ass up the lace pattern.  But then, after some swearing, I ripped everything back and fixed it.  And realized I hadn’t actually fixed it. And ripped it back again.  Luckily, the yarn was able to withstand the abuse.

I love the empire waste and the drape of the lace, but I’m not crazy about the short sleeves that the pattern calls for, so if there’s enough yarn leftover I might make longer, bell-shaped sleeves.  We’ll see.  I’ll just be happy if I can finish the damn thing without major mishaps!

On the man front, I’m doing my best to bounce back from rejection.  Another blind date might be coming up in the near future, and I tried last night to exercise my flirting skills (although I’m not convinced that I’m particularly good at flirting, or noticing when I’m being flirted with, for that matter).  I think part of flirting has to do with knowing that you’re hot, and when you’re feeling not so hot, it doesn’t quite come off.  That’s the part I need to work on.  I hate the way that I (and most women) tie so much of my self-esteem up in the external, instead of paying any attention to what makes me who I am and being okay with that.  It all seems far too dependent on the opinions of others.  And really, what makes me think that a few guys who don’t even know me very well are entitled to make that kind of decision for me?  All of this is very logical, and I want badly not only to believe it, but to practice it.  I guess maybe I really should start yoga again, or find some kind of faith base.  The spiritual part of me is so neglected that I’m starting to doubt nearly everything about myself these days.

Wow, that turned into a tangent.  And a bit of a breakthrough.  What would I be capable of if I just trusted who I am, right now, no changes, just me?  If I actually committed to being who I am, instead of constantly envisioning myself as this better person that I’ll become at some point in the future.  How does one do that?  Any tips?

Moments in time

It smells like spring today…the sun is out, the sky is a mind-blowing blue without a cloud in sight. It’s Friday and the weekend is stretched out in front of me without too much to clutter it up. It’s a nice feeling, knowing there’s nothing to do, after six days of running.

Nashville was a good trip. I spent a lot of time (some might say a bit too much time) with coworkers who have become friends…some of the people who have made Ohio my home over the past few weeks. I got all kinds of spiritual fuel from Mitch Albom and Beverly Tatum (and I have a signed copy of this book now…am I cool or what?) and sort of reconnected with what I love about my profession, even though I don’t always find it in my job.

The rhythm of my life is a little screwy right now–the pace has been disrupted. I’m trying to settle into a new cadence…rethinking how I treat myself, how I treat the people around me…figuring out how to help my family through hard times when I can’t be there every day to give hugs, wipe away tears, listen. It seems like the last three weeks have served as some kind of turning point, and I can’t see around the bend. Not to sound uncharacteristically or cheesily optimistic, but I kind of have the feeling that things are going to be okay.

“from lost and not found, to run and not hide
my hand inside your hand
losing my grip, falling so far
my hand inside your hand
I hear your voice and follow
so hard to believe, and still I go”
-joc

Small Comforts

It’s nice to know that when life starts to crumble–a guy turns into an asshole, your jeans don’t fit right, and work is a mess–there are people out there to pick you back up, dust you off, and remind you that life doesn’t suck. I guess that’s the only upside to being down in the dumps–the reminders of how lucky you really are. Today my buddy g-lo presented me with the new Iron and Wine ep, complete with a lovely note: “because he’s dumb and because I want to see you smile and because I’m your friend and because I love you!” How awesome is that? And how totally blessed am I? Then there’s islegavia, who spent the whole weekend with me (well, most of it, anyway) cheering me up when she’s coming off a lousy man experience herself. And random blind-date guy who called me from out of nowhere on Sunday because he wanted to let me know he was thinking about me.

A bad guy experience is kind of like having your car broken into. Maybe you’re in the middle of the best day of your life, you got a raise or aced a test or whatever. And you go strolling out to your car, all happy and excited and smiley, and then you see the busted window or jacked-up lock and a few dangling wires where your cd player used to be. And you feel robbed, violated, wronged, and your great day–even though you still have the raise, still have the good grade–suddenly turns to crap. Same thing with guys. You’re going along in life surrounded by pretty good things, and then some butthead decides to blow you off because of the way you look, or because somebody better came along…and suddenly your whole life seems to fall apart around you, even though nothing else has really changed. Yesterday you felt pretty, today you feel like a big, ugly nothing. Yesterday you knew your place in the world, and today you’re knocked so far off-kilter that you can’t even remember what month it is. And you forget about your blessings, which are still there. They’re just harder to see through the haze of bitterness, regret, and disappointment that you’re surrounded by at the moment.

Sorry for the not-so-creative extended metaphor. But I’m happy to say that my haze has cleared a little for the moment. And a thanks to all of the great people and things in my life…the buddies who won’t let me stay down for long, my fellow bloggers who always manage to make me laugh, smile, and think, my mom and the random care packages she sends (yesterday’s was complete with Peeps, pistachios, and a dog biscuit that she said was a gift from Bruiser, the family Mastif, who’s lovely mug appears above). At least when you feel low, there’s the consolation that there’s noplace to go but up.
-pg

Items of Note

So first of all, it’s after five on a friday and I’m in the office updating my blog. I am a loser, loser, loser!!!!

Secondly, I have spent my day sitting at my desk, eating chocolate mini-donuts, looking for a pattern for a knitted ipod cozy (I’m making it for a guy, I am SUCH a loser!), and getting mad at the piece of crap res services room change website that doesn’t update automatically so now two residents are pissed at me because I tried to move them into a room that isn’t empty. And I WONDER why my stomach doesn’t feel quite right now…

Third: I’m back in the world of the insomniacs. Up ’til 4am last night, despite 1)no caffeine after 7pm, 2)a majorly painful workout, and 3)boring reading assignments for class, which usually do the trick. So I watched Bridget Jones’s Diary again. Read an old O magazine. Unloaded the dishwasher. And, of course, overslept this morning. I am so out of whack these days!

It is the Lenten season, and being a (somewhat wayward, way too progressive) Christian, I’ve been reflecting. It started with my last post (and thanks LD and Vixen for the encouraging comments!). I’m bugging people to hold me accountable and point out the times that stupidity seems to come flying out of my mouth (or keyboard, as the case may be). I’m trying to stop worrying so much about things totally out of my control…you know, the really deep questions, like will the new dude I’m talking to turn out to be a loser?, Does The Boy ever even think about me?, and Why in God’s name did The Guy’s new girlfriend feel the need to IM me last week? I think for me, right now, faith means accepting that I don’t know everything, and all that love crap will work itself out as long as I take care of my own issues.

Enough insight. I am off in search of a non-donut substance, and then moving my buddy KN out to Talmadge. A happy weekend to all, and ignore all that Valentine’s Day bullshit. Love doesn’t have to pick a certain day of the year. I’m convinced that VDay was invented (besides as a ploy to make a ton of money on crappy chocolate and Zale’s diamonds) to make single people feel even more like social outcasts. So let’s protest the damn thing.
Later…
-pg

Okay, I take it back.

The meaningless sex comment, I mean. I’ve been thinking a lot about relationships, quasi-relationships, and the lack of value that I seem to have been putting on myself and my own standards in some of the situations I’ve found myself in lately.

I guess it started a few days ago when I talked to a person with whom I had sort of a fling a few years ago. There was something about the way he talked to me–like I was an object or something, some kind of enigma that existed only for his happiness and pleasure. About halfway through the conversation, I made two serious revelations. One: I was dealing with a total asshole. And two: I’ve sent the wrong message about myself, or else why would he think he could get away with that?

I used to pride myself on being very open and honest about sex, men, and relationships. I hated the idea that it was okay for men to lay it out on the table, but for women there seem to be all of these taboo subjects. So I chose to ignore the “rules” regarding what women can say about sexuality. I liked to think of myself as free and open-minded, and feel sorry for those who couldn’t be more honest about their feelings and desires. But I reflect on where that attitude has gotten me in the past five years. A string of flings, one fairly meaningful relationship that ended in disaster, and a whole lot of frustration. Sure, I’m never really alone for long, but I still always manage to feel lonely in the midst of my botched romances.

I worry that I’ve held myself at too low of a price. That people look at me and think I don’t want the traditional things that come with relationships: security, respect, even love. I’ve objectified sex and made it something that’s not connected nearly enough to those things, so maybe the guys I’ve dated lately figure they can get away with not giving them to me.

I don’t know what the answer to all of this is–I want to stop sending the wrong message about myself, and yet I don’t want to give up honesty and independance. But all I know is that I’m tired of feeling the way I do right now, of letting people like that asshole think they can talk to me that way. I deserve SO much better than that. To quote my friend islegavia: “didn’t he know he was in the presence of a goddess?” Does the message I send about myself bear any resemblance to the person I really am? It’s time to think about that.

-peacegrrl