eating of the green spiky things

The wasps are in a frenzy. Well past their prime, it is summer's unsettling last gasp.

But the squirrels behavior is purposeful. Human-like. They search out acorns and spikes. There is security in their purpose. It nudges me. Gently presses against me. Warms me.

Happy Gilmore

I pulled a full-on Happy Gilmore on the tennis court today. There was a rage-skill mismatch. I had so much pent up energy, I needed to play like Venus to disseminate it in even packages. Alas, my game could not keep up. I was close to walking off the court for a moment but I pulled myself together and somehow it melted away.

detonation dream

This morning I awoke to my alarm radio, and in my half sleep I thought I heard the news reporting a series of "detonations". What I thought I heard was, "the first of the detonations was in California". In my half sleep I could feel the 911 kind of fear. A minute later I got up to turn the news on but could find nothing (thankfully).

hypoxia

I went to an amazing dance class, came home and had a long shower. Sometimes I like to sit in the bottom of the shower and pretend I am in a rainforest. I have been doing that as long as I can remember. At 30 it still works.

In the afternoon I met some girls and went shopping. I bought a skirt and some Bobbi Brown. It was a lot to spend in a short time, and it lacked the normal post-shopping high. A lot of things have been short-circuited lately.

Maybe it is my dissallusionment with the tenor, the recent marriage of my father, the tumultuous visit with my mother, and the conflict between my inner life and my lacklustre existence. Sadly I realize that I am the one who maintains the status quo.

My blog is one little piece of me that is allowed to exist, but only in a bubble. It serves a purpose, but there is a limit.

The oxygen is starting to run out.

flashing gems

Shoshanna and I went shopping after work. It started out with some light browsing, but before I knew it Shoshana was trying on a handful of clothes in a variety of sizes, forcing me to decifer between items that looked virtually identical. Quickly I lost track. Her questions are almost always rhetorical and I could have just as easily been picking my nose the whole time instead of concentrating like a three year old trying to color inside the lines.

I was unprepared for what came next. Shoshana asked me if we could look at engagement rings for 'a minute' because she wanted to show me something. We were supposed to be shopping for specific things, of which rings were not one, but how could you say no to such a reasonable request? That 'something' turned into many things. I was blinded by flashing gems and smiling faces. Try as I might, my heart just was not in it. When Shosh senses she is losing her audience she weaves her face back into their line of vision until they relent. We finally left, but only because the store closed.

This little side trip also proved shocking. Did you know that a simple 1-carat solitaire can easily run you in the $25,000 range? I did not. Suddenly the challenge of finding a future husband seemed that much more insurmountable. I swear I thought $5,000 to $10,000 tops! Where have my friends been coming up with that kind of money?

We went to grab a bite to eat. Shoshana talked about work, the kids she teaches, told me stories she had already told me. I kept having to say, "yeah, you mentioned that..." In the background there was a birthday party and clapping and camera flashes....it was all too much. The night was like a fat man in a wife-beater who smells of booze and old spice. And I was the wife.

a moment

Dance class felt good tonight. I always leave feeling a couple of inches taller. It is the music, the beauty in the simplest of positions, the way my muscles feel.

I met Candace for lunch. It already feels different. She leaves soon, but I think I am the one who left first - my cardinal rule. I did not think about how it was our last time to hang out, just the two of us, until I shut the car door. Even then I only gave myself a moment, wiped the tears, and got back into the data at work.

The tenor told me that he thinks I underestimate the role that having someone in my life would play. He thinks having a true connection is of the essence for me. I think he is quite the romantic, but I hope he is right.

and I awoke with a stiff neck

He said that getting upset more frequently was a good thing – it showed I was growing. There were other people in his office again but this time he asked them to leave because he knew I was not comfortable with them there. Later we were sitting outside. I had a blanket on the pavement and he sat on the grass. I asked him about his earliest memories from grade school. He told me one about a holocaust memorial and he cried and I cried for him. He wiped my tears with bits of leaves. I held him and consoled him. I asked if that was ok, and it was. It began to rain. He got under the blanket with me to stay dry. The blanket could not keep out the dampness altogether but that too was ok.

outside of in between

Really I am just a big sentient ball of emotion and passion. It worries me when I overflow to much. If anyone read my posts of late they would see things have been more down than up, although there are many normal moments in between where things feel good. Behind sunglasses I cried all through the grocery store today, and all the way home. I worry that I will never be better. I worry that it could get worse and I am not sure if I can handle that. The uncertainty scares me. I worry that I freudian typed 'patient' instead of 'passion'. What is that? Is it my destiny to be a patient or do I have the stamina to make it and even flourish with the passion and emotion? Maybe in the writing, painting, dancing. My gossamer cocoons.

crying all around

I went out for dinner and drinks with my friends who are moving away in a few days. It is my old roommate Candace and her husband Adam who live overseas. They came back for a year and lived next door to me. We have become very close. Lately though, things have been strained. They have been spending more time with our other friends - another couple. It has been hard to be the odd person out. They are a lot of fun and Adam is very protective of me - he thinks of me as a sister.The feelings around the whole situation have been messy. I love them, feel hurt, sad they are leaving, and left out.

Tonight we were out for dinner. Another friend of mine was talking about a girl he had been seeing who moved away. He had been adamant throughout their relationship that it was mutually casual, but I thought he would surprise himself when the time for her to leave approached. He was telling us about saying goodbye at the airport. I asked him if the girl cried and Adam seemed irritated and interrupted me,
"Rachel always has to ask the craziest questions!"
I tried to explain that my question had context that he was not aware of, but he continued to argue.
"You know Adam, if I commented on everything that people said that I thought was strange, I would be talking an awful lot."
"I hold back commenting on a lot of things, trust me."
At that point someone interjected to change the subject, but my lip was shaking and tears were pooling in my eyes. I pretended to look in my purse for something, trying to stem the flow that was sure to be impossible to stop. Adam reached toward me and put his arm around my shoulder. He squeezed me,
"I am sorry."
The tears flowed freely now. I was embarrassed.
"Me too. I am just in a bad mood."

Truthfully I had not been in a bad mood. I am not sure what I was.
Part of me knows all of this is about being sad, being stressed about the move, and anticipating the upset of separation all around, but the other part of me feels insecure and vulnerable and wants to know, was I being annoying?

Earlier in the evening he had snapped at Candace as he often does, making us all feel uncomfortable. Any one of us could have easily criticized him for it, so why am I unable to tolerate someone criticizing me? In other words, what I am trying to say is that even if my question was ridiculous (which I don't think it was), it doesn't mean I am all bad, just like Adam is not all bad in my view when he does something I think is wrong.

Things surprisingly got better from there, but my heart still aches a little. I am going to sleep.

his shoes

His shoes are the color of the best cherries
Delicious
Subtle and succulent
They hold his feet
Once an unnatural butterscotch
Out of place in objectivity
His wife is an apple
And I an orange

too many cupboards open

There is no reason. My clothes feel constricted
I am going to jump, out of my skin
The stupid fucking show on tv paused
I am rushed and prolific and stunted

Too many cupboards open
My shoulder, my breast
I cannot keep track
I need to stand back to close up this gap