Bad Opening Lines

Back in November during the one weekend I had off for at least six weeks on either side of it, I got on a plane and flew 600 miles south of us. My brother kept telling me that my 95 year-old grandfather was fading fast and that if I wanted to see him, I should do it. I kept getting this message from various members of my family until finally Z and I decided to go. So down we went. Since we were already heading south, we decided we should visit my maternal grandmother who also lives nearbye-ish. It'd been awhile since I'd seen her, and she was always saying that we never visited. So we went. And we stayed for one night. We jumped up and did the dishes on queue. We cleaned up the $50 of steak her dog threw up. We stripped the sheets from our bed and started the wash machine before we left. We did or duty, and because we both had to work on Monday, we couldn't stay long. But we did it.

Importance of Sleep

Z surprised me with a weekend in San Fran for my birthday. We emerged from the plane in Oakland and all the Oregonians let out a gasp at the 65 degrees and sunshine. Z and I actually had to buy sunscreen day II so that we wouldn't come back lobster style.

Part of his unofficial itinerary was a Planning Morning where I would hang out in the hotel room journal in hand and Figure Shit Out. (While he got champagne and bread for brunch.) I no longer do New Years resolutions. Not really. Any major resolutioning I do happens mid to late Februaries. This gets me out of the New Years malaise but throws me double into the birthday malaise. And this one could be a lot of malaise. This year it's 30.

Sitting down with a journal and 30 years to come to terms with wasn't a historical re-visitation. It was more of a lesson in perspective. Every day we are breathing we are learning more about ourselves. Whether or not we recognize it and log it is a totally separate issue but every day we bump into good and we bump into bad and we react emotionally to those experiences.

Family Matters

At some point in college or quickly thereafter, the way my family communicates stopped working for me. I've known this on an emotional level but never on a level where I could put terms and definitions to it. And even in its unpleasantness we could interact fairly well. We work together. I lived with them for almost a year after moving back from Portland. Holidays are pretty OK. But I still feel it. I'm exhausted in my childhood home. In family gatherings I feel like I am speaking a language that all of my friends understand completely but these people who raised me can't.

Lessons from Too Much Stuff (and A&E)

There are five levels of hoarding. You can tell a person's level not so much by the amount of stuff they have (although that may give you a clue) but from the type of help they need to fix the problem. Maybe they just need a friend to come in and point out that no, they actually never wear those 18 pairs of four inch heels. Or maybe they need a professional organizer, a trained psychologist, and pest control. 

Rarely does a television show change my life but I can now point to two. Back in 95/96 I watched the movie Babe. Yes the one with the talking pig. I've been a vegetarian ever since. Three weeks ago I had exhausted my Hulu queue and Netflix instant popped up the show Hoarders. I'd always avoided it due to its "reality show" genre and I just assumed it took advantage of people in compromising situations. What I saw however was a story that reflected my own habits of consumption and keeping in a way I had never had before.

Vintage

I found this journal entry from Dec 26, 1998.

Now, if I was the person I wanted to be, who would I be?  I would be about 140 pounds, but athletic.  I’d be very friendly and warm, but would be a bit reserved until I knew a person and then truly open up.  I would be well read, able to speak poetical lines.  I’d dress stylishly and daringly.  I would be able to converse in Spanish, French and German.  Be able to play the piano (or at least a bit), the guitar and sing.  I’d be organized and reliable.  I’d be vegan, live my beliefs to the best of my ability.  Write daily and be able to juggle.  I’d be able to drive a stick, remember names, and drink tea.  I would watch less than a half an hour of television a day, but go to movies occasionally.  I’d make an effort to meet new people, help all people and and run no more red lights.

HAHAHAHAH! But really I'm laughing because more than 2/3rds of those things are STILL on my list. 

Learning Perspective

Last night I got home from work, went jogging, showered, grocery shopped for a weekend getaway, wrote an entire song from scratch with guitar, cut a rough together for the guy I work on music with, and constructed a complete mock for the outside of our invitations. And then I got into bed, at midnight, feeling like I'd gotten nothing done.

Perspective is a tricky little bitch, and I feel like I'm just beginning to claw some out of myself. If I could find and keep perspective in my emotional toolbox, then maybe I'd be less critical of myself. And maybe you'd be less critical of you, too.

Things Learned While Camping

(Not necessarily in order of importance)

1. I should wash everything when I get home. The nose acclimates to the smell of campfire, and campfire on clothing reeks. It's not woody elm smell. It's like you and 14 other smokers shared a bunker for the weekend.

2. I don't like Coors lite.

3. As much as you like the idea of powdered soy milk, it is actually going to be as bad as Zach tells you it is.

4. I don't like peeing in the woods. This may be in the TMI category, but I love being removed from people. I love waking up absurdly early due to sunlight and going to bed absurdly early due to sun set. I love so many things about trees and lakes. However, something in my body turns off when I know I have to go wander into the woods to use a bathroom. Fluids come in but they don't come out. Yep, I'm telling you more than you needed to know about my body. But seriously. It goes into lock down mode. Give me a pit toilet.

5. Water filtering things are cool!

6. Not having to worry about poison oak and mosquitoes makes any trip awesome. We totally hacked our way partially around a lake and besides almost biting it a couple times, I loved hacking through without abandon. Yay!

7. I'm self conscious about my greasy hair only the first day. Day two sans shower I don't care.

8. Holding weight on your back is easier when there is nothing in your hands.

9. The forest is not the type of place I like to take pictures. It isn't super conducive to macro photography.

10. I have nightmares even in the forest.

Lessons of the Week (and it's only Tuesday)

Lessons of the week:
1. When I tell Z an idea and he makes a comment like, "You need to figure out how to store it before you start or you'll end up having them everywhere," I need to tell him I agree instead of laugh. For me a single (or triple) chuckled is the outside version of the inside, "Oh shit he's totally right." But it comes off as me dismissing the feedback. It leads to fighting.

2. When I work on projects whether they be email newsletters for work or tiny trailers for local theater groups, I need to be thorough and focused on whatever it is I'm working on. I don't need to finish the whole thing at the first sitting, but I need to finish whatever aspect it is I've started. When I do something half way and then walk away with the idea of returning to it later, well, it's a recipe for disaster.

Instead have an overall plan and then do small chunks completely. If that's the newsletter it means I write an article and make sure I've checked grammar and name spellings and links to the best of my ability before I send it on.

For tiny trailers, it means if I'm doing 3 versions, I take one version at a time and follow the storyboard they've drawn and then make that the best it can be before I call it quits for the night. If I throw the clips together but then don't finesse it a bit, I will just be embarrassed about my work later. Or, in terms of the newsletter, I will have to revisit small changes a million times in the back and forth of suggestions from my co-workers as they catch my careless mistakes.

3. Finish side projects for third parties (especially ones with deadlines) before making up work hours. You (me) will feel less guilty overall.