I'm not a "green thumb" kind of person, but I am trying to change. Hence, I went out and bought a half-dozen plants the other day... and I like the effect so far. My reading nook is a little cozier now, which is a good thing -- being unemployed, I've got a chance to catch up on all of the "me time" things I've put aside for so long. Between all of the writing, the reading, and meditating while overlooking my neighborhood (which I can do quite well from the papasan in the nook), I'm grateful to have a fabulous life today. Namaste.

oddly enough...

...I'm fairly happy about the state of my life right now. I'll be able to claim unemployment benefits, which will keep me afloat, and while I'm job-searching I can get my house in order and finish writing my book -- which has been "in progress" for, oh, about four years now.

Also: I feel as though anything is possible in my life. Having wrung myself free from the icky boyfriend, and now being without an official job, I can go anywhere and do almost anything -- as long as I don't neglect the boys. I applied for my passport today, and I'm looking into short-term ESL teaching jobs in Thailand (2-4 week sessions) as well as working with international rescue missions that are similarly short-termed.

I feel more free today than I ever have, I think, in my entire life. The whole world is in front of me, and the possibilities are endless. First, though, I'm going to spend the next few days just relaxing. I think I deserve it. Namaste.

yes, it can get worse

I was laid off today. The positive spin says that I get two weeks' severance + unemployment benefits that aren't much less than my paycheck (if my calculations are correct). The bad news? Well, uh, I was laid off today. And the only thing I could think of to do was clean my living room and make tentative plans for a dinner party on Sunday. Ah, well. Namaste.

so this is what it's like to feel human again

Tonight's outing with The Adonis went wonderfully -- I laughed more in our few hours together than I have, I think, in the past six months. I got to see his condo, which was just spectacular and has a fantastic view of the skyline and lake. Who knows if this is the beginning of something romantic or a deep friendship, but either way? I'm glad I have the opportunity to get to know such an amazing person -- we both agreed to get together again soon, and I'm certain we'll do just that. Namaste.

my dear john letter

One of the worst things about this is that I feel like Mirabelle in Shopgirl, where everything I thought I knew about you is eclipsed by your dishonesty and the fact that whatever we had, it was never anything more than an illusion. I made the mistake of shaping my life and potential future into a certain mold that depended upon taking you at your word, when what I should have been doing was taking your actions at face value. Meanwhile, you've hurt me more than I've ever been hurt in my life -- and that could be because I'm sober, and things hurt more, but I think it's also because it was the first time I had faith enough to let go, to fully give myself to someone, to put aside my fears of commitment and entrapment and a million other things. And you? You violated every one of those things so completely that I feel winded and emotionally paralyzed any time I dare to contemplate it.

This isn't meant to excoriate you; I'm trying to put into words (for you? for me?) what this sadness and emptiness feels like, and possibly give you a better explanation of why I can't be friends with you than I was able to offer this evening. Maybe one day I'll have to apologize for this lack of restraint of pen and tongue. Maybe a better or kinder or less painful version will work its way into my writing one day. But tonight? Tonight I feel as though if I don't get "my say" in, then the moment will pass and it will seem more like hanging on to the pain than it does tonight, when it all still feels too much like a bad dream.

final decision

As some of you know, I've been helping J. out after his surgery. Well, kind of -- I *was* helping him out until this past weekend, when his "withdrawals" and such launched me into Crazy Mode and I made a choice on Tuesday to only help him if he specifically asked me for help; I was done checking in with him just for my own peace of mind. Of course, I didn't hear from him until this morning, at which point he asked if we could talk (again). I said it was the last time, and after what he said? I'm cutting ALL ties with the man, even if I have the urge to do otherwise. At this point, it's self-preservation.

Because it turns out he's lied to me about just about everything since Day One. And that's just not cool, to say the least. And while he WANTS to be friends with me, I can't see how I could even continue a friendship with someone who not only has hurt me more than I ever thought possible but also has been completely dishonest about anything that ever mattered.

trying something different

I have unsuccessfully attempted the following dating strategies over the past year:

• dating out of convenience ("hey, he's the only one around!");
• dating out of a desire to reclaim misspent youth ("he's only seven years younger...and so what if he doesn't have a job?);
• dating someone because of a supposedly spiritual connection ("we aren't having sex because we're doing this right this time");
• dating for the social credit ("if I date him, then my standing will go up in this community"); and
• dating out of boredom ("really, is there anything better to do?").

It occurred to me his afternoon -- or, really, last night, as I was looking at the Date and Dash options and saw one of them was ONLY for folks with at least an MA -- that it would be infinitely more fun (and, one would hope, satisfying), if I actually dated:

• people with similar intellectual capital (so to speak);
• people who enjoy doing the same things I do (literary events, plays, indie concerts & films, etc.);
• people who are successful at what they do (not necessarily materially but definitely spiritually) and/or have already figured out what they want to be when they grow up; and
• people who know not only what postmodernism is but also why the (right-wing) media portrayal of the entire subject is both tiresome and inaccurate.

Since I've finished grad school -- with not one, but two, MAs -- I've not dated a single person who even had a college degree. And every man I've dated for the past 10 years? I've made more money than they did. (And I don't make THAT much. And I don't care if you make squat as long as you're passionate about what you do -- but none of them were.) Something made me think, today, that perhaps it's because I didn't think I deserved anything more. (Not that blue-collar or non-degreed folks are "less" -- just that there is a lack of a shared experience that has proved problematic.) I think (mostly due to my childhood, during which my parents wouldn't let me talk at all about my intellectual accomplishments) I've spent a lot of time downplaying who and what I am, and that needs to stop. So, then, the rules are updated:

1. If you want to ride this carousel, you've got to take some action to make it happen. No free rides.
   
2. Paying customer or no, permission to ride the carousel is solely at the discretion of the operator. (That would be me.)
   

More, I am sure, to come, as I muddle my way through this whole "being true to myself" thing. (Note: as I write this in my flannel nightie and fluffy slipper socks, I'm enjoying life quite immensely. I heart myself.)

happy things

• On Valentine's Day jj texted me, wishing me a happy day. This was the only Valentine's Day message of any sort I received from anyone, but somehow it was enough.
• Sunday I drove down to Momence, IL (just east of Kankakee) to pick up my new-to-me minivan, which I bought for the impound fees from the family of a guy in the program -- his sister OD'd and left the car behind, and they wanted to sell it to someone who really needed it. It needs a bit of work and some cleaning, but for $350 I am immensely grateful to be mobile once again.
• In J. news: to quote Carrie Bradshaw, "We are so over, we need another word for over." He is, I do believe, incapable of getting well or sober at this point, and all I can do is walk away quietly with my self-worth fully intact.
  
• I'm working a freelance job in -- ahem -- Naperville tomorrow and Wednesday. This should be interesting, as I've previously announced my allergy to Naperville. We'll see if that's changed since the last time I was there... in, oh, 2005? The up side: a few extra bucks in my pocket...
  

hmm... interesting

J. called me today to tell me he's going through horrible withdrawals, suspecting that whatever pain meds the doctors have given him aren't enough. I called Uncle Eddie to see what I can do to ease J.'s discomfort (answer: nothing), and he said, "Are you sure this isn't an act to get you to feel sorry for him and come back?" I brushed it aside, thinking that surely it wasn't the case. But then I was chatting with H. -- J.'s best friend -- and heard pretty much the very same suspicion/observation. If true, it's definitely a new low in my life -- an ex-boyfriend faking opiate withdrawals to get me to come back. On Valentine's Day. Sigh.

***

In happier news (well, bittersweet news, anyhow): a friend in the program lost his sister to an overdose about ten days ago (the bad part), and she left behind a car (well, minivan) in the impound lot. At a meeting on Friday, he said that anyone who could come up with the fees to get the car out ($350) could have it. ("Me! Me! Me!" was my basic reaction.) So he's driving me down to Kankakee tomorrow, and I'll have a cheaply acquired vehicle that, I am sure, will last me at least the next few months, until my finances are a bit straightened out. Yay!

hungry angry lonely tired

It's been a long day -- J. came home from the hospital, I went to two meetings and read a story of mine at an art show/literary reading at the library, and I still have absolutely no clue what I'm doing with my life (especially when it comes to romance). I don't know if I should take a vow of celibacy or start lonely-dialing all of the old "friends with benefits" standbys. Because I'm at the point where if I don't get some sort of physical contact -- a massage, even! -- I think I'm going to self-destruct.

I wish it were easier to know the right things to do, avoid hurting people, and find simple happiness and joy in this world. Sadly, I can't see any of this at the moment, which leads me to believe I need to turn off the computer, brush my teeth, and simply go to bed. Namaste.

oddness

Sitting in The Grind working, Wilco's Summerteeth streaming through the speakers, it strikes me that my life at this very moment -- and at many other moments throughout the day -- is exactly as I would have wanted it twenty years ago. As a teenager, I spent hours dreaming of a day when I'd live in a big city, inhabit artsy spaces, and know myself so well that no one could make "me" waver. It's odd (though not surprising) that I'd forget a sense of longing so deep I thought it would either existentially torture me forever or kill me in its intensity. But people do grow up, moving so far away from teenage daydreams that we forget how painfully promising we sensed our lives would become. Until, I suppose, something from the past wafts into our minds to the beat of She's a Jar and we come to realize -- without a whiff of dishonesty -- that, yes, we are fully content with the way things have turned out. Finally.

hospital, day two

Having spent the night in the hospital with J., I'm a bit groggy, though it has been convenient for getting used to typing on my new Dell Mini 9, the keyboard of which takes some adjustment time. I know that as a patient it's quite annoying not to be able to sleep because nurses are coming in every 20 minutes for vitals and such -- and, really, why is it that they cannot coordinate things so that they all come in at once? and waking J. up at 4:30am for a sponge bath and changing his gown? could they not wait until, oh, 7am? but I digress... as a visitor it's even more annoying, since you don't have any pain medication to get you back to sleep in a jiffy.

So, then, I'm sleepy. Which means I may fall asleep during my accidental date this evening. Still, I remain grateful to be here for J. -- if for no other reason than it's the first time in my life, really, that I've been able to be present for someone for completely unselfish reasons. [Also, I am glad that J. is recovering wonderfully and is coming out of his anesthesia-induced haze quite well. He should be up and walking sometime tomorrow.] It also does not escape me that this is the first time that anyone -- much less an entire group of someone's family and friends! -- has consistently used words such as "kind," "generous," and "wonderful" to describe what it is that I'm doing. Life? Is pretty amazing sometimes, especially when we surprise ourselves by doing things we never would have done before.

sitting here

In Lars and the Real Girl, there's a scene where these older women come to console Lars over the impending "death" of his real doll (bearing casseroles and their knitting projects) and he is visibly puzzled by their presence. "We came over to sit," says one of them. "That's what people do when tragedy strikes," says another. "They come over, and sit."

As I write this, I'm in the oddly-named Family Relaxation Room of the hospital waiting for J. to come out of surgery. More than a few people -- myself included, sometimes -- have wondered how it is I can support someone who has hurt me so badly over the past two weeks. There is the obvious: I know what it's like to come out of major surgery to an empty room and no idea when anyone you love will show up to hold your hand, reassure you that everything went well, and just smile and be there for you (it was easily 36 hours after I was really conscious after brain surgery that The Philosopher -- the father of my child! -- showed up).

But also: this is what people do for each other. They sit. And even though it's quite easy for me to get lost in and overwhelmed by all of the anger and disappointment and frustration and pain -- lots of pain! -- I feel about J. and the things he's done and said over the past two weeks, that not only won't help anyone, it would let someone down who I do love*, and in a not-small way. So, then: I'll stay, doing what it is that people do: sit. Namaste.

*Which, please note, is not the same thing as ignoring the obvious and getting back together with him.

t-minus twelve hours

I'm taking J. to the hospital tomorrow at 11am for his back surgery, and (not surprisingly) he's nowhere to be found this evening. Also, I'm having what my sponsor lovingly refers to as "lust issues" -- which I hope will be resolved by a long, hot bubble bath.  Also? I think I accidentally agreed to go on a date Friday night. More on that later... I'm going to run the bath. Namaste.

startled

Probably the only thing more shocking than finding your first husband on Facebook is learning that he married the woman he (a) was cheating on you with but (b) insisted nothing was happening at the time and (c) visited your therapist with you to convince said therapist that you needed antipsychotic meds to quell your delusions, which you believed were delusions until (d) you walked in on them having sex -- in his office. Yes, it's been 13 years. Still -- all this time I thought she was an aberration, not The One. (Meanwhile, I think I'll die alone.)

top 10 things about being single (again)

1. I can see whatever indie films I want without worrying whether I'm being judged as a freak, too-free-spirited, or too morose for enjoying movies such as Synecdoche, New York. 
   
2. When I attend shows at tiny hole-in-the-wall music venues, I will not be self-conscious that the guy holding my hand (a) looks old enough to be my father and (b) is going to complain that the music was (i) too loud, (ii) too weird, or (iii) too much not-like Jethro Tull. 
3. Flirting openly and thoroughly (without guilt).
4. Wearing fabulous outfits and outrageous makeup just because they make me feel beautiful.
5. No one asks "how much did you spend?" or "don't you have enough shoes already?" when I bring home one (or three, or five) new pairs of stilettos. 
6. I don't have to answer the phone for anyone unless I really want to speak with that person. 
7. Watching all six seasons of Sex and the City in their entirety feels like self-education rather than lusting after a life I can no longer lead. 
8. No more downplaying my liberal politics in order to keep the peace with a super-conservative boyfriend. 
   
9. When I travel, I can relax and enjoy myself without having to check in with someone twice a day so they know I'm "okay." I'm on vacation; of course I'm okay!
10. No more explaining phenomena such as Twitter, Facebook, and Tumblr to someone whose high-school computer classes included punched cards.