8

So you want us to love each other

You can make me out of ashes

The trash of my belly laughs

Out of what's left of my boredom

You can doll-face

You can grab me by the hair of my short memory

Hug my night in its empty shirt

Kiss and kiss my echo

And you don't even know how to love

   - Vasko Popa as translated by Charles Simic

Vasko Popa is much better at being angry than I am.  I'm a little embarrassed, actually.  But I'm fine.  I'm going to read more and I'm going to try to write about things that are a little more interesting than my latest jiltings.  Why can't jiltings be a word, blogger, why?  Also I really want to mow the lawn, but somehow I can't make myself.  I want a sense of order, but I still haven't finished unpacking.  Also order and I have never really gotten along, but jumping over boxes and turning things upside down looking for a shoe is only fun for so long.  It is still a bit strange being here.  Possibly I should try to write poems.  I don't want to write fiction right now, because I know where my head is and even I am no longer interested in exploring that cave.  And I can't meditate because I just fall asleep.  The life of the party, I am.  Well, anyway...  

Actually, you're wrong

After weeks, or years, or possibly forever of trying to be calm about these things, because women are expected to be hysterical and the idea of being thought to be hysterical makes me watch to punch someone in the testicles .... I mean, after let's just say a lifetime of trying to seem well-composed, I am actually fucking livid and may in fact actually be angry enough to say, fuck you, I am appropriately angry. I can get angry too. I can say things I will later regret.

Except that this should not have come as a surprise. Some people cannot tell the truth and some people cannot accurately identify their emotions. And some people are cowards and some people just aren't that into me, which is not a fucking epiphany regardless of what that book says. This would all be fine, except that I don't like being alone because it reminds me of the fact that I feel pointless and am probably one weekend spree away from becoming the filthy mess I already suspect myself of being. So I want to find some kind of prettier mess that reminds me of me, that I might be able to focus on a bit, or hide under for a while except that anyone who seems like me is unhappy like me, is stubborn like me, and is ultimately useless to me because I either can't get close enough, or when I do, the mess is more than I can handle. And I am angry that these are the only options that seem to be available to me. Because, believe me, I would go out with some nice boys if I could, but I can't. It depresses the living hell out of me to be with someone who isn't neurotic, or who is neurotic in the wrong way. I can't do it, and I won't. I'm too tired. I know you can't be tired and angry at the same time, so maybe I'm just tired now. But I am not and never was hysterical, and I will hit anyone who disagrees.

In other news, I live in Utah now. It's actually quite nice here.

One week left

So, I really am moving to SLC.  I'm not going to go into the various arguments I've come up with as to why that is not an insane thing to do.  It's not, really.  Everyone is leaving San Francisco anyway.  No one here has any money, and San Francisco is depressing when you don't have money, or even when you do have money but no one you know has any money so you have to feel guilty when you consider buying a $75 purse made from organic cotton (i didn't buy it, by the way, but only because I somehow convinced myself that I could make one for about$1.50, which I maybe could if I cared to learn to use my sewing machine, but I don't really).  I am, of course, sad about leaving the friends I have here in SF, but I'm always sad about something.  If SLC is a disaster, I think it will at least be an interesting disaster.  

Mum is arriving shortly to assist with packing and driving the Uhaul.  And this evening we are hosting Wendy's birthday whatnot here at the apt.  Tomorrow I guess packing begins in earnest. I am trying not to be too melancholy about leaving.  Mostly I am happy, but if I sit still for very long, I do have a slight feeling of impending doom.  I think that is normal though.  Georgia, of course, has no idea.  She is snoring peacefully and making little gurgley noises.  She will miss the chicken bones, but she'll be gaining a yard, and yards are nice things to have.  

No more sad songs!

Hey! Remember me? No? Okay, just thought I'd ask.

Spent part of last week in Salt Lake City, which is currently the most likely place that I'll relocating to in August. I've gotten an unbelievable amount of shit about this -- apparently people are personally offended that I would even consider such a thing, but, you know, I can't make everyone happy. And, to be frank, a lot of the efforts I've made in the past to try to make other people happy seemed to backfire, or have cost me a lot of money, so enough already. I want to move to Utah, and I am presumably in a position where I can do so (pending approval from work, or a decision to finally quit this job of mine). I think my plan is to spring the Utah thing on my manager in the morning and then promptly flit off to Italy for two weeks and see if I have a job when I get back. Does it make more sense to wait until I get back? I may not be thinking straight. I've been spending a lot of time with my laptop this weekend and writing a lot of pointless (POINTLESS) reports, so I may be a bit muddy-headed. I assume I will be able to keep my job in Utah. I also assume I won't want to keep it, but there's something to be said for sticking with it at least until I have some sort of grad school/career/living-on-a-commune plan arranged. So, so, so.... that's what I will do.

I wish I was more excited about Italy, but right now it's hard to imagine being able to get out of the ghastly nest of work I've surrounded myself with. I suppose if I just leave without finishing it all, they will just have to decide whether or not to fire me. That would not be so bad. Even if I couldn't get unemployment -- I have been saving saving money for just such an ocassion, I suppose. But I probably won't get fired. I will just get dozens of emails asking me where my work is, and when I get home from Italy my inbox will be overflowing and I will hopefully be so very well-rested that it won't even bother me. Ahaha. Although things always seem to bother me, but I would like to work on that.

On an unrelated note, all of my Pandora stations seem to be 95% depressing music. What's up with that? Oh, except now it's playing "Daydream Believer". That's just funny. Also I wish I'd bothered to learn from Italian. Oh wells.

Good luck with that

It's easy enough to decide that you don't want to continue doing what you're doing, but it's another thing entirely to try to figure out what you're supposed to be doing instead. I'm about 75% sure that I don't want to stay in San Francisco, but then again I've only ever lived in the Mission and maybe there are other neighborhoods that would suit me better? Oakland even seems preferrable right now -- I need to be paying less rent, obviously, but I'd also like less craziness, I think. I don't need to be surrounded by bars and awesome people. Sometimes I want something a little quieter.

California is a big state, so if I wanted to stay here, I suppose I could find a slightly calmer spot. I always have a good time in Monterey, and I like the fact that people have sand instead of grass for their yards there. Grass is kind of dumb anyway. But I would need a car if I moved out of the city, I think. Or if I move back to Ohio, or if I move to a swamp in the South. So I probably need a car.

Reasons not to leave SF include the handful of friends I have here, and my bookclub. Oh, and Thinking Beard Press, if that gets off the ground. But I could teleconference in for the board meetings. Grumbles. I really don't know. I can't make a fucking plan to save my life. This is what killed Hamlet, right? I'm turning 28 on Friday. I was going to take the day off and ponder my existence, but I think that might actually be a horrible idea. I'll just read a book or something.

Ugghs

Boo to this weekend. I told myself I'd get caught up on work, at least on telephone monitoring reports, but I did considerably less than I should have done, and I still feel fairly crappy about life. Here is what you need to know about telephone monitoring reports: Technically they need to be done, but no one will ever, ever read them. So I should just write some shit down, print and sign, repeat 250 times, and be done with it. But for some stupid reason I can't. I'm not saying I'm putting a lot of work into them, but I am putting some. Which means I finished 56 reports this weekend instead of 100. Which, actually, for me isn't all that bad. But I feel just as buried as I did last week, if not more so. And I don't know what I'm doing. I think my plan to move back to Ohio might just be running away, but if I was running away when I moved out here in the first place, does that mean the smart thing to do is to run back? Is there a smart thing to do? If I were smart, clearly I would know.

Paul wants to start a publishing company, and I am all about that idea. I don't even care if it's a bad idea, since technically it is not my idea and therefore I can throw myself behind it wholeheartedly without those little nagging voices telling me that all of my ideas are doomed to failure. I realized today that I still can't really drive a car like a normal person. Possibly I am just out of practice since I drive very rarely, but I was trying to drive to Ocean Beach and I suddenly became aware that I had made some wrong turns and it seemed like the best thing to do would be to pull over, leave the car, and throw myself under a bus. I didn't, mostly because it wasn't my car and because I have gotten explicit instructions from my mother that I am NOT to kill myself in a fit of crazy. But it did bother me. I was always a nervous driver, but the "I am too dysfunctional to operate a motor vehicle, therefore I should kill myself" thing didn't really start until after college. I thought the SSRIs had mostly beaten it into submission, but apparently it's still there. I'm being stupid. I'm sure that I won't actually kill myself; I'm barely even depressed, but for some reason my brain always snaps to that, like, "Well, this isn't working -- what are my other options again? I can't think of any. Let's end it!" What am I, 14?

In other, other news -- this sociopathic drug addict I used to date seems to have gotten married. So there's someone out there for everyone. Actually, he claimed not to be a sociopath, but, as I pointed out, that's exactly what a sociopath would say. Of course the fact that someone who doesn't seem like a trainwreck married him makes me wonder if he suddenly stopped being awful shortly after we broke up. That would be my luck. Anyway, this fucks with my whole idea of relationship karma because I would have thought he'd be single for at least 17 years after the shit he put me through. But he's not. So, I'm going to start emotionally abusing people and see if I might be able to get hitched by 2010. Oh, who am I kidding?

Damnit, I need to start writing a book. Somebody give me something to work with, will you?

Yes, I Can

In a bit of a fog after a night of heavy drinking. Apparently I ended up posting a missed connection on craigslist trying to apologize to a guy that I attemped to talk to but ended up just making an ass of myself. So I decided to make an ass of myself again by writing a weird an rambling apology on craigslist. I deleted it this morning, so hopefully only other drunks read it last night.

On the upside, Megan and I went dancing, which I haven't done in ages. That's the real reason I was drunk, not the wedding. I drank at the wedding, but I like to think that I kept it reasonable. But I had to get really drunk in order to dance. Dancing is just one of the many things I sort of enjoy doing (or would enjoy doing if I could do it with some competency), that I usually avoid for fear of looking stupid. The problem with this kind of attitude is that I am almost 30 years old and I don't really know how to do much of anything because I've been too frustrated with my initial fumbling attempts. I'm not happy about this, and I think it has made me rather a dull person, so I'm going to try to put a stop to it. I'm going to try to learn to do things. If practice doesn't make perfect, then I will practice until I can at least say I gave it my best. And then I can quit and never speak of it again, I guess, but maybe I'll feel like less of a coward at least.

So here's a preliminary list of things I can't do that I might, potentially, like to be able to do:
1. Ride a Bike -- I know, I know -- I actually used to be able to do this, but forgot when I was about 11. It's very embarassing to try to re-learn as an adult, which explains why I've only tried about twice for five minutes apiece
2. Salsa Dance --When Megan and I went out dancing last night, a salsa song came on and my dance partner said to me, "So, you don't like dance?" Suggesting I guess that anyone who liked to dance would be better at it.
3. Roller Skate -- This would have been a useful skill to have when I was in grade school and kept being invited to roller skating parties. I always went and I always fell on my ass four or five times, and then spent the rest of the evening clinging to the wall. This will not come naturally to me, I know that. And it's not a skill I could show off often, but I'm okay with that.
4. Bake Bread -- I know I'm gluten-intolerant, but bread is still the one food I most want to make
5. Knit -- Again, I've tried this a few times and found it very frustrating. But everyone loves scarves, and all hippies must knit so this is non-negotiable.
6. Use a Sewing Machine -- Same as above. Also, I want to make my own clothes because I hate clothing stores and don't want to spend any time in them ever again.
7. Do a Cartwheel
8. Juggle -- Ever since meeting a bunch of clowns, this totally makes sense to me. I'd want to ride a unicycle too, but I need to get two wheels down first.
9. Play Piano -- just a little would be fine
10. Play Guitar --for sing-a-long purposes
11. Sight-read Music
12. Play Tennis -- just well enough to not annoy players on neighboring courts
13. Speak Another Language at least marginally well
14. Talk about Art without feeling dumb
15. Climb a Tree

I don't have a plan yet for accomplishing any of these things yet, but I thought a list would help. I was considering picking one item per week and working it for the length of that week, but obviously many of these things could take more than a week to conquer. Also none of them seem like the thing that I want to start with. It's too hot right now to think about knitting or baking. I will have access to a guitar this next week though, so I guess I will start with that one. #10. I'm also open to further suggestions in case there's anything anyone else might feel I lack as a human being.... obviously constructive criticisms are fine, but let's keep things friendly, shall we?