Archive for September, 2011

Turn and face the strain

Sunday, September 18th, 2011

You know that old adage about “the more things change, the more they stay the same”? Well, that is complete and total bullshit.

I've decided to let my hair do as it will: let its freak flag fly. The effect is not so much freaky as it is totally bonkers curly. ***sigh***

Sometimes things change and that’s it: they are forever, unalterably different. There is no going backward or even staying still. Change plots a new course where there once was none, and the tides take you whether you’re a willing passenger or not.

You know that moment that sometimes happens in a new relationship: what I call the first ugliness? The first ugliness is the moment the spell is broken. It’s when it becomes clear that you are no longer in a Disney romance but actually embroiled in something more like peaceable or even tentative warfare with another human being. Sometimes the first ugliness is survivable – you learn about the other person’s weaknesses and flaws (and vice-versa) and vow to do better and actually do better and life goes on. Maybe you get married and make small people that look a bit like one or the both of you and buy real estate and share common stories and linens and eventually find yourself lying six feet under in side-by-side plots.

Other times, the first ugliness is also the beginning of the end. The other person shows you (or you show them) something so vile or non-negotiable or just plain old scary that you absolutely know in that moment that there’s no going back. The deal is broken, and you will be eventually or immediately single again. In those moments, the more things change, the more they’re over. Sayonara, Psycho.

A different type of true colors...

So anyway, this isn’t a crytic post about relationships with lunatics, although it kind of is. This has been my year of things breaking apart and dying completely and I don’t just mean romances; friendships too. If it were a Chinese year, it would the Year of True Colors, which I suppose is better than a Year of Trickery, or Year of Deception, or Year of Being Alseep at the Wheel. Alas, some of these partings have been painful – bittersweet at best – and others having been glaringly “Wow. You are insane. Good luck with that.” to the degree that I’m almost grateful they decided to open a can of crazy in my presence and loudly brand themselves “no longer worth your time or energy.” And yes, this even includes a seventeen-year-long platonic friendship that went down in flames a la the Hindenburg, but without as much smoke.

Now, don’tgo worrying about your favorite Bloggess: minus some minus bruising and maybe a few unnecessarily pitiful “why me?” moments, I am just fine, if not better off…in some cases much better off.

At the same time, however, things have not exactly been easy. Interpersonal relationship struggles aside, I have had a full serving of “how you like me now?” from the chaos machine. The last couple months have been some of the most exhausting, trying, uncertain and straight up tumultuous months of my life. I moved three times and one of my temporary homes found me and my 114 pounds of pets (the dog is officially 103. City living has made him a fatty.) subletting from a small time thief and criminal, thus my new acquaintanceship and late-night texting with a few Seattle police officers. In the chaos, I took my cat down to California…and then brought him back up to Washington again a month later. Hear that sound? That’s what little money I have going down the tubes. But at least we’re having fun: there’s nothing cats love more than flying the friendly skies. Ah, who am I to bitch? On the whole I live a charmed life. We got through it. The cat is a trooper. The dog survived. I’m still alive and pretty soon I’m gonna get a little older. This is how it goes sometimes.

Alaskan Malamute in the ocean

No one lives a charmed life quite like my dog lives a charmed life.

I have a new kooky friend who recently informed me that some kind of portal is going to open or close or turn sideways (or maybe that was poles or axises or is it axes or ???) on September 28…one year and roughly two months early. That’s right, kids, apparently 12/21/2012 is upon us. They did the math wrong – of course – and it’s all gonna go otherworldly soon. Personally, I’m glad, because I’m once again in a temporary housing situation with no furniture and no real prospects. I have about two more weeks to sort that out, but if I turn into a light being who lives off moon rays, that ought to make my load a little bit lighter.

But I digress. And now I’ve reached a moment of indecision: brush through the details or stop here and take you lovingly, painstakingly, “Lord, no more: make it stop”ingly through the events of the last couple months? I don’t have oodles of time on my hands or anything, but I do have more than I did, so let’s go for the latter. Tune in tomorrow, and I will begin the first installment of the story. Let’s call it, “Life’s a bitch and then you die.” No. That’s too negative. And life’s not really that bad. Let’s call it “Life’s a beach and then you sigh.” Yes, that’s very stupid, but that’s what it is. Deal with it.


A good friend just emailed me a three-sentence note: “Keep me posted. Can’t wait to hear of your adventures. Don’t adopt any worthless friends!” Haha. It’s like she’s reading my mind…and this blog entry. What a strange and interconnected world. Let’s get together in two weeks when we’re all disembodied spirit creatures and do whatever the heck there is to do, okay Shel?

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