strange musings of a distracted spunk

Sometimes I wish I could wrap my friends in a protective layer of no-hurt zone. I know they would do the same for me, and I know many of them would rather swallow up the pain I’ve been doled out recently than me have to fend for myself, alone on this side of the country. If they could be here, they would. I don’t doubt that. When I become close with someone, and let those walls down, I love. And I love fiercely. I don’t want to see them upset, I don’t want to see them feeling helpless or lost.

I will admit that I get annoyed by depressed people. I require an ability to be lighthearted and fun, to laugh, but to also talk seriously, to discuss the deeper side of things. I understand that we can all get lost in a sea of emotion or depression; I’ve fallen prey to my own depression more often in this last year than I can count. I just have low tolerance for people who spend more time depressed and unwilling to do anything about it than I do for people who are depressed and know it, but will move towards resolving it. Contradictory, yes, but I spend so much time trying to be positive that negativity will too easily draw me down to the places where I don’t want to go again.

But the worst thing to experience is to know when a friend is hurting, and know there’s nothing you can do. You can offer to kill the guy, throw flaming bags of poo on his doorstep (Froggy, I’m looking at you here), send him evil vibes when there’s a difficult breakup. But when a friend is hurting because of another friend? That’s the worst. I’m afraid I’ve not enough eloquence for what I want to say here today, but the heart twines at the thought of a friend hurting because one of her closest friends is too wrapped up in herself to see what kind of damage she’s doing. How do we address those issues with someone who is so unwilling to acknowledge their self-destruction? I can’t imagine what it was like for my friends to be around me when I was nothing more than a zombie, puppet strings pulling me through the days with little else to go on. But I don’t think I ever asked for attention; I think I was more content to shrink into the walls (a difficult maneuver as the wall and I often collide rather than merge), and to watch others continue living their lives while I worked towards putting mine back together.

It’s no secret that I feel more deeply for my friends than many of my own family. My friends are the ones who know about my depression. About my relationships, about my day-to-day experiences out here. My family knows more of the, “Oh there’s that crazy girl again. What’s she up to now?” My friends will be the ones who stand beside me if I ever do decide to share my life with someone someday, because they know that I will always be there for them, even when it might be detrimental to me. The dangers of loving too fiercely I suppose.

I write this, not because of the hurt I’ve experienced in recent days; I’m moving on. I have another date tonight, where hopefully the blinders of GDB will be off, and I can see this new boy for who he is, and not who he isn’t. I’m looking forward to what comes ahead, though I have no idea what’s in store for me. But right now, one of my close friends is hurting. I can’t see her to know this, but she’s like me. She’s my pea in a pod because when we love someone, we only want them to be happy. When they’re sad, we seek out ways to cheer them up. She goes much further than I do, as I tend to lack compassion sometimes. She absorbs the instability and helplessness that her friends sink down into as they reach further into depression, and as much as I want her to be able to step away and be only for herself, that’s not fair of me to tell her that. She is who she is; she loves so deeply, so fiercely, that her friends’ problems become her own.

It’s about now that the bubble wrap later of no-hurt would suffice quite well. It’s difficult enough to want to make someone smile when there’s so much overwhelming her, but to do so from three thousand miles away is damn near impossible. If I could, I’d send her a plane ticket and tell her, “Just get on the plane, and I’ll take care of the rest.” Friends are the cornerstone upon which we build ourselves, for it’s their support that helps us grow as a person. Our family members play a role, but our friends are instrumental in shaping us. When you find someone who understands so deeply, loves so tremendously, and wants the sky and beyond for you, it’s difficult to not want the same and more for them. How do you console a friend when she watches another self-destruct? For that matter, what do you say to a friend who is hurting herself or himself, and how do you make it so they know you’re supporting them, but not their behavior? I’ve been searching for the answer to this question for several days now, so I could dispense it with wise words and a joke, so my pea in a pod would unshoulder some of the burden she’s held in wanting to help her friends. I can’t seem to find the words. Maybe someone you can.

This is probably a winner of a quote today. “You’d be surprised at the difference between my hands and my vagina.” I’m not even going to try to explain the context, other than it took me four minutes to figure out why my friend was laughing so hard at what I just said. Slow DS? Yes.

I’m waddling like a duck because I wore converses when hiking. For the record - I didn’t know we were going hiking. My calf muscles are now tight as well….really tight muscles right before they go into a Charlie Horse and in order to walk somewhat properly, my knees are bent to avoid straightening my legs. This was more amusing last night when my abs were hurting as well and I was bent-kneed, hunched over, and waddling. It occurred to me after a friend of mine laughed at me during lunch today that I could pass it off as having great sex. Granted, we all know I’m not having great sex anytime soon. But perhaps if people think it happened, it really did happen? Isn’t that how most of the major criminal trials get resolved anyway?

How does one end up with sore legs from great sex anyway? Pea in a Pod mentioned one guy who would always leave her sore because of his big hips. I asked her if they were childbearing. I remember being sore from sex sometimes, but I think it was usually good.

Similarly, I’ve decided to put a call out there a la Babes in Toyland. If you don’t get the reference, it’s probably better. If you do, recommendations please!

Does anyone else find guys who dress up in drag for a charity thing simultaneously sexy and unnerving when they look better than you? Just me? Okay.

Lately I’ve gotten into not defining my pronouns. I require special skills from my friends - those who can interpret what I say without me specifically referring to it. This is usually enhanced when I’m in a non-relationship with my “person.” Note: If I say boyfriend, that’s kinda…scary and heavy. Words that don’t have significant associations with them are so much friendlier.

I only just realized that I’m going to a ballet performance by myself on Saturday night. On what’s sure to be a fantabulous date night for most people who bought tickets as a belated Valentine’s gift. Oh the joy.

Speaking of Valentine’s Day, mine wasn’t absolutely terrible. I was afraid I was going to break down, but I found looking down at the sidewalk and fumbling for my keys while I walked pass the 13 or so restaurants between my gym and my apartment is a very effective method of not observing all the goo-ey-ness that takes place on Valentine’s Day. Note: In case this isn’t abundantly clear, I have never been much of a gooey person. Last year involved a dinner with over-frosted heart shaped cookies, and my contribution to the meal was flowers for Pea in a Pod, myself, and the girl we met and found had little in common with us, in celebration of our fabulously single selves. So yes, I went to the gym (which was surprisingly crowded given that people should be fucking like bunnies and cooing love) but had to modify my exercises because hi, I can’t walk because I’m awesome and pulled both calves and am waddling everywhere (duck? Yes, quack!) and then I came home and took a bubble bath by candlelight and read. Who needs a boy when you’ve got a bubble bath? Hm…Waterproof suggestions welcomed too for that matter.

Also, I’ve noticed I have a habit of wearing colors that are associated with a particular day without meaning to. I always wear green unintentionally on St. Patty’s Day, and red on Valentine’s Day. This morning, I woke up and caught myself putting on a red sweater, and promptly changed it to brown. I am committed to breaking the pattern, that devious bastard.

Boys who draw lines should stay on their side of the lines. Unless we approve the game as hopscotch. Then we can jump around as we may. (Also, note: We are not playing hopscotch.)

Jack of All Trades and I are committed to making this Hawaii trip happen. In the case we don’t, we are also accepting recommendations of the globe fell over and landed on blip. Constraints: Must be about $800 total, and preferably within the U.S. as the man does not have a freaking passport. *shakes head* I’d do a whole, “In this day and age,” spiel, but I think he’s already kicking himself enough as it is.

This message was brought to you by the letters F U <3, sponsored by the “Make More Sense” Foundation. We’d also like to thank “DS Needs Sex Now,” for all their help in putting together this fine message. Oh, and last but not least, Happy Birthday Mr. Dead Presidents. As of Monday.

Thank you for validating me. By telling me that I do at 50% what most people do at 100%. For telling me that you’re so confident in my ability to keep up with all the work you assign me, you want to give me more responsibility - that of event planning. Which is incidentally what my dream job, current degree-in-progress, and past experience all involve. Because dammit, I am kickass at getting all the details together and putting events on like nobody’s business. I know now that I needed the job from hell to get to here, to a place of positive reinforcement and actual work.

It might be 3 or 4 AM your time, yet you’ll still talk to me for hours on end. You’re there for me when I need an escape from my own brain, you pick up the phone on a Saturday night when I decide to look for Mrs. Field’s cookies at the local supermarket and fail, and you laugh at all my quirks. Thank you for all that, and for knowing me better than I know myself. Road trip? Yes?

You’ve been around longer than most people. We might be in the same state now, but there’s still quite a distance - and that’s okay. We’ve figured out how to keep our friendship burning bright and strong, when you were ten minutes away, or an ocean away. Also, since our lives are so ridiculously interconnected, you give me hope that if you can make it work, I can make it work. Funny how we always lean on each other, eh?

When I feel particularly crazy, I think of you, and realize how tame I am in comparison. You’re my brother from another mother, and when I need a crazy night out, you’re the man to call. Now come home already!

I’m not quite sure how I got so lucky as to find you in class one day - you sat across from me and laughed at me every time my pen cap flew across the room. Distractions and all, more than a year later, you’re one of my daily confidants. It’s so refreshing to not have to explain things to someone who knows it and has been there already. Whatever did happen to dancing Barbie?

Four years ago, I wanted to kill you for your bipolar nature. Now, I want to hug you for making me laugh when I wanted to chop off my boobs because they hurt and I was in a terribly bad mood. You even offered to marry me without boobs to save others from my “sparkling personality” (as long as I was rich and there was no prenup).

Whoever you are, epic boob girl, you send a ton of traffic my way. So…thanks?

You laughed at me when I told you that I might secretly want to be a wedding planner someday. Because I love details and putting things together and making one hell of an event at the end of it all. And maybe that’s why I’m watching all these wedding shows. Or maybe, it’s just because for the first time in my life, I really want to have a wedding. Thank you for not judging me on either of those, and promising that we’re going to have kick-ass weddings, even when you’ve been feeling all over the place yourself. Also, you got me started with this crazy blog world. I both blame you and will adore you forever.

A year ago, you broke me. It sounds dramatic, but I was at the lowest point of my life. Now? After telling me you never wanted to talk to me again? We talk semi-regularly. You may have been the single-most devastating blow I’ve ever experienced, but I know I will never suffer anything as traumatic and deep as I did with you. Simply, because you kicked me when I was already down. I won’t ever be down there again. Either way, there are no hard feelings. Only hard lessons.

You drive me crazy sometimes with your puns, corny jokes, and self-deprecating humor. But you’re still the big brother I never had. And the only person who tried to save me from what became the biggest lesson I’ve ever learned.

You don’t read this, and I probably won’t ever tell you, only because you get how I feel before I get how I feel. There’s no point in you reading something you already know, and if I ever did tell you this, you probably would be mildly curious and then say, “Yeah, but I know all this. If you want me to read something, I’ll read it for you. But that’s your personal space.” It still bothers me that we’re in this place right now, where future and present collides. But when I feel low, Gwen Stefani sings “I really hope we make it, do you think we’ll make it? We’re running, keep holding my hand, so we don’t get separated,” and I think she knows what she’s talking about. Thank you for making my heart leap when I only wanted to keep it buried under miles of jagged glass. No matter what happens, I won’t live with regret.

I’ve become the latest game craze. Forget Scrabble. Forget Monopoly. The newest game is one GDB likes to play, called “DS as Life.”

Case in point:

GDB has made it clear that he freaked out, partially because I consumed so much time and energy, not necessarily a bad thing, but in the sense that he wasn’t focusing on his job, apartment hunt, and new band search. Also, he was ignoring a great deal of his friends and his own family because he was so engrossed in our conversations. Rushing home to talk to me when he should be spending late nights at work? That was GDB.

So irrationally, because boys can be irrational too, he took it out on me. Hence, the alien takeover. Whether or not the alien takeover has left or is just temporarily hiding remains to be seen.

After weeks of not knowing exactly what we were doing, of repetitive text and IM conversations that led nowhere, of both of us saying, “This isn’t working,” GDB took a leave of absence. His internet was turned off voluntarily, and he went furniture shopping, bonded with his new roommates, wrote his finals for his students, spent time with his friends, etc. Occasionally, I would get a text message. If I asked, “Where are you?” he responded, “I told you I wasn’t going to be around much. I have a lot of things to do. But I will be back at the end of January.”

Me? Okay. I’m single? Um…nah. I think I’m okay with just being alone and not bothered by boys. When I perused the online dating section, I was immediately found by multiple admirers, one of whom amused me. We struck a conversation where he noted that it was a shame I wasn’t looking for a relationship because I seem really awesome and totally cool, and he “gets a good feeling about me.” Open cave, watch DS scurry back inside, enter shell, and burrow in for the count. “I’m not reaaaadddyyyyy!” sang a voice in my head.

So I left that alone. And decided well. GDB has a lot of things to figure out. I can’t make these decisions for him - I know what I would like to have happen, but it has to happen at his own pace. So merrily I went along my way, stalker in tow because some crazy girl from college has found me the source of utter fascination. She is correct, but as we’ve not spoken in almost three years, there is no need for her to develop facebook groups about me.

Also, my new job began. With more things to be done than my old job! Hurrah! And absolutely lovely bosses. One of whom partakes in photography, and the other whom reminds me of my mother when she’s at work. So I’m digging that. Then I get my own cubicle, I have walls, and a computer and I can read blogs all day! Always a source of cheerful energy. But I’d be lying if I said I didn’t miss GDB terribly. The depression of knowing he’s out there, caring about me, but not accessible to me at the moment is a hard one to carry. As I’m sure many of you can relate, it’s hard to lose a source of constant discussion and comfort.

And then came yesterday. Where GDB exploded back onto the scene, full of naughty epithets and comments about how much he missed me and my epic boobs, among other things, including questions about my new job. We chatted for a bit and I told him how I realized I would not be able to finish my degree out here after all and would surely be returning home to New York before the year’s end. He didn’t say much, but continued to shower me with affection and attention.

I cocked my head, unsure of why I was getting text messages, e-mails, AND gtalk IMs from him all at once. Did he miss me? Did something change? Furious texting, combined with laughter and smiles and tears of happiness and shock and what-the-fuck-just-happened-am-I-in-a-wormhole? Then it hit 5:00 PM CST. And I got this. “To be continued tomorrow, must work now.”

I stared at my phone, going, “What? Yeah, okay, whatever.” I was sad again, because I really didn’t expect him to return tomorrow. It was like the brief glimpse of sun right before the clouds dump ten buckets of water on your head personally. So off I went my merry way, following the advice of Pea in a Pod who declared, “He is a perk. Not a constant. You must think of him like that, or you will get lost again.”

At 10:30 PM, as I’m getting ready to call it a night, boom. “My work is done, I’m laying in bed, but I can’t stop thinking about you.”

And it hits. I’m his reward! He’s playing the game of life, and every time he finishes writing a test, he gets to ogle a boob! Or when he’s done with his apartment preparations, instead of a pat on the head, it’s a conversation about how much he’s wanted me in the last few weeks. It’s the delayed gratification system - we’ve all done it. “Must. Not. Shower. Till. Damn. Paper’s. Done.” Or, “I can’t meet so and so up for food until I finish working on this project.” Somehow, I’ve become his delayed gratification. The showering, the eating, the doing, that’s all fine and dandy, but I’m the reward he gets to look forward to at the end of the day.

“Okay…this is new,” methinks. “Let’s see if this carries on until tomorrow.” Sure enough, I get a response in the morning, after he fell asleep in the midst of some wild texting. And he’s back on good form. I asked him, “Is this just a fantasy to you?”

“I hope not.”

“So then what?”

“Well. Once you’re back in New York, it will make this infinitely easier. I’ll have a much easier time getting to New York than I will to California right now.”

And with that, ladies and gents? I do believe there is hope yet. I’m still single. He still has a lot of catching up to do. But this? This very well may be the beginning of a new GDB, one where I can remind him to focus on his work and he’ll thank me for it, and still return to me at the end of the night. But I’m not counting on it, not just yet. There may be a goofy grin on my face though. Just maybe.

Seeing as it’s the last day of the year and all now, I suppose I should write the customary year in review. Because it really, truly has been one hell of a year. In some respects, I’m glad to see it go, but in others, I’m not. I would also like to apologize to my readers - my writing is nowhere near as stellar as it usually is, but I’ve not exactly been a mindset to work on making this blog a work of craft. Right now, I’m more of the trying to live life mindset than I am of the reflect and make a story of life mindset. I promise, I will return. I just don’t know when. Please bear with me until then.

And now - a recap!

January: I rang 2007 in with some of my best friends, from college and from high school alike. There was so much unknown, so much promise at the beginning of the year, and we were all there single - only one of us at that point was in a relationship, but there were no couples at the party, something for which I was incredibly grateful at that moment. As we stood by the window in my apartment on 1st and 19th, we heard the crowd chanting in Times Square and we cheered and hugged as we ushered in 2007. At that point, none of us knew how much would change for us in that year - all but one of us moved, and they were all significant changes in our lives.

The rest of the month was taken over by school and a failed beginning with someone who has now become a good friend and a great laughing partner. I had no way of knowing how many twists and turns my life would take in that one year alone.

February: D dropped the bombshell that I never thought I’d recover from. Pea in a Pod revealed herself to be much stronger and much more like me than I had ever realized. Our friendship was cemented by her response to the D bombshell, and our weekly dinners became a saving grace for me. Not to mention the support I received from all of my other friends when my world fell out from beneath me and I couldn’t understand why I still existed. I watched my legs move me through the days, but never quite followed how I got there.

March: More drama with D, who somehow infiltrated every aspect of my life. A spontaneous trip to Chicago with Jack of All Trades and my thesis life partner led to the beginning of my renewal. GDB followed soon thereafter and my world gets shaken up again, but this time for a connection so intense, we spend 20 hours together the first time we meet. The beginning of looking for a new apartment, and incredible apartment drama with the most passive-aggressive individual I had ever met. Luckily, I backed out before I made a commitment to living with her in Williamsburg.

April: My life is work, therapy, classes, the gym, and sometimes GDB. Therapy was part of what made me realize it was okay to not be a robot all the time. I was tired of feeling like my outside betrayed my inside, but I never quite realized that people found me cold and insensitive sometimes, because as cheery as I could be, my low expectations of life were obvious. A search for a new apartment yielded a new roommate and a lovely brownstone in Boro Park, one that I couldn’t wait to move into.

May: Apartment renovations, finals, moving, tense times with GDB, tense times with my parents moving from their home of nine years to a new one in an adult community, the beginning of wedding season ‘07, the singularly most explosive date I have ever had in my entire life - passion, anger, silliness, and intensity above all. With GDB, of course. Also - the first time D and I see each other in person and the revelation that yes. I can move on.

June: My 23rd birthday, GDB’s decision to move back to Chicago, our back and forth decisions on what to do in terms of us, because we were growing into an us, loving and living in Brooklyn once again, my roommate’s strange cat who I often fed and once had to find after the landlord’s cleaning lady let him out of the house during a rainstorm, my impulsive decision to move and quit school for a year. Thailand’s departure, nights with males who are incredibly influential and involved in my life but remain to be revealed for their true or ultimate nature. Wedding season takes over.

July: Wedding season in full force, a ridiculous PR writing class on Saturday mornings from 9-3 (killed my social life on Fridays), my very first wedding as a bridesmaid for my rwin, GDB’s departure (we said goodbye on four separate occasions - none stuck), GDB’s realization that he didn’t want to end things with me just yet, a breakdown in the bathroom at the Savage Men show in Atlantic City for my cousin’s bachelorette party because I only just realized how much I cared and wanted to be with GDB. Also - multiple job interviews for positions around the country, an offer from the literacy advocacy group that I accepted, breaking the news to my family that I was moving to California in less than a month, breaking the news to my incredible employer who gave me a second chance, after my depression made me unreliable and difficult to work with. Moving out of my apartment, in a rather memorable last hurrah with Pea in a Pod and a former coworker, a not so pleasant battle with the roommate because he had to move as well. We no longer speak.

August: A trip to Canada with friends for a Harry Potter convention (yes, I’m a geek, I admit it, but I didn’t dress up!), another wedding in which I wore blue this time for my cousin, and finally, my departure. My fears of leaving my family, my school, my friends behind manifested themselves in a ridiculous way - meanwhile, I was thrown several goodbye parties, GDB was behind me all the way, and Techny Besty and I renewed our friendship and made it impossibly stronger.

The move. A flight from Newark to Dallas, and from Dallas to Oakland before my first trip around San Francisco and being brought to the strange lady’s house. A week of searching, before a week in Utah where I met one of my closest friends in California today, and finally, the beginning of a new job. Full of hope, full of possibility, full of adventure. I had no way of knowing what was in store. Also - GDB becoming a calming and steadying force in my life. Finally being in the same time zone as Avocado again, but now being three hours behind everyone else. My watch remained on East Coast time, as it does today, so I would know what time it was at home.

September: Moving in with the family who took me in for a week to save me from the Strange Lady, finally finding an apartment of my own and furnishing it in one day through Ikea and free furniture on Craigslist. A second trip to Chicago, this time to see my friends from Israel, as well as GDB. The beginning of this blog.

October: The beginning of my realization that AmeriCorps isn’t quite right for me. Contact reestablished with D. Avocado comes to visit. My almost-mono fluke virus that bewildered me and my new doctor for a week. My growing frustration with the lack of support from the AmeriCorps community, and the first time I really miss home. The realization that I am falling in love with GDB.

November: My first attempt to quit my job. The highest highs of the year, with my friends, GDB, and the blog community now there for me. My return home, for the first time since I moved. The realization that GDB is falling in love with me, as well. Feeling on top of the world, in all aspects. Botched traveling and a layover in Chicago is changed to a layover in Denver, before becoming a direct flight back to San Francisco. Feeling like anything can happen, and I’m okay with that.

December: A week in L.A. where I was reminded of my deafness repeatedly, before I got to see my family that lives out there. GDB’s birthday, and subsequent alien attack. The first ending of our relationship. A last minute decision to fly home. Lost toiletries on my flight coming back from L.A. The realization that some people who I had never expected to be my support system had indeed become just that - questions about where it could go with them in the future. The renewal of some sort of relationship with GDB. A job offer. A job ending. Many meals out. A canceled flight and more travel chaos. Tons of family videos, traveling, last minute excursions, and not nearly enough sleep. Questions, unending certainty, and almost depression because my future has become so unclear now. There are no answers anymore. Just questions.

In a way, I’ve come full circle. But last year, when the world seemed so full of promise, when it was so bright and shiny and exciting, I feel incredibly removed from that. Now, I’m left wondering why exactly am I going back to Berkeley? There’s nothing left for me here, I’m certain on that, because I’ve never felt so dislocated in my life, but I don’t know how I will feel when I return back to California. I have no idea what’s in store for my future, and right now, I feel slightly cheated. Before, there were hints of sparkling memories in store, of a future with GDB, of impossibility becoming possible. Now, while I know the world lays at my feet, I wonder - are there too many possibilities? Are we just too accustomed to expecting everything that it makes it impossible for us to expect nothing?

I experienced my greatest relationship to date in 2007 - it may have been long distance for the last five months, but it was the most functional, the most real, and it showed me the capacity I have for loving someone else. It saddens me to know that I may not be able to do that anymore. This was the first year where I was ready to take on a stable relationship - though I did have several of my one-night encounters, as was par for the course all throughout college. I’m still great friends with most of them, but unless they were to become more than a several-night hookup, I don’t want to purse that sort of thing anymore. I realized I am so much stronger than I thought I was - I could pick up and move to a destination where I knew absolutely no one, make my way through hell and back, and still find myself walking into work to follow through on my commitment. Not to mention leaving my family behind and saying goodbye to my support network, most of whom reside somewhere on the east coast.

I wish I could say that I’m looking forward to 2008. But right now? I’m not even sure if I’m looking forward to waking up tomorrow. It’s just a hard end to what has been one hell of a year. If the last few days are any indication, I won’t wake up until at least noon. I’ll decide which one of the seven parties I’ve been invited to I want to attend (it seems impossible to me that anyone should desire my company with the current state I am in), and eventually head over.

I’ll watch the ball drop with others, drink my customary glass of champagne, send a few texts to a bunch of friends and GDB, and hope I fall asleep to a dreamless night, in anticipation of a more stable 2008. I think I’m ready for some stability in my life.

Edit: I spoke too soon. It’s 6:00 AM on New Year’s Eve, and I have not yet gone to sleep. Instead, the memories of a life I no longer have keep rushing through my head, and while I know I need to get rid of them to move onto a new year, my heart feels emptier. How can one’s heart say yes, while one’s head says no? There are so many words left unsaid, so many memories not yet experienced, and I feel broken in my uncertainty. My body doesn’t flutter right now, I’m lucky if I’ll resemble anything less than a zombie today. It seems I was in love all along - I just never knew it. Because I’ve never experienced anything this devastating.

At any rate, the new year begins in approximately 14 hours. Here’s hoping it rings in with some stability for a change.

Me: Damnit. I want to write about how disoriented I am. But I feel like…

Jack of All Trades: But you’re too disoriented to do so?

That about sums up how I’ve been feeling the last few days. I never realized how much harder it is to transition to being on the East coast from the West coast - the time difference is small, but it really does screw with you. After finally making it home on Sunday evening, Monday was an afternoon with my father’s side of the family, and an evening with my parents and Thailand’s family (as he is still in Thailand.) A Jewish Christmas Eve, indeed - lasagna and brisket. Sweet.

Tuesday involved the return of the Avocado, whom my family hadn’t seen in a year and a half, before she moved to San Diego, so she joined us for the classic Jewish dinner at a Chinese restaurant. Delicious, entertaining, and for once, we didn’t bump into anyone I knew. A rarity, as in the past, anytime we went anywhere, I always inevitably bumped into someone I knew, whether I wanted to or not. I’m not sure why, but I prefer to remain anonymous almost as I traipse through the areas of my past. I’ve been wanting to keep this vacation low-key. Perhaps because of all the drama I’ve experienced in the last month, possibly because of all the changes coming up in my life, possibly because I’m not used to being so social due to the limited social network I have in Berkeley at the moment, where five people more or less make up my social atmosphere. My voice is scratchy and slightly sore from talking so much these last few days. I should be making the most of it, but I’m content to just bum on the couch and watch Project Runway marathons.

Wednesday began the north, south, north, south, east, west travels that I’ll have to recount in a later post because Atlantic City always deserves its own post. I ended up in Hoboken on Thursday night to see one of my cousins, Jack of All Trades, and another friend of mine whom I hadn’t seen in a year! Laughter, tapas, getting lost, freezing my butt off (I’m not acclimated to this weather yet), driving around Hoboken, feeling like the cheery Accord mobile as I drove people to various destinations, it was all quite wonderful.

Yet I think I was more subdued than usual. It might have been the cold that appeared with no warning on Thursday morning. It might have been the tiredness from not having slept properly in about five or six days (which I think I finally remedied last night, after crashing the minute I got home after driving all day). It might have been the allergies to my hilarious and wildly entertaining cats who amuse me with their antics with a baseball. Or it might just be the frame of mind I’m in, knowing I’m in between jobs at the moment until my background check clears. Knowing that GDB and I are in that gray area that everyone speaks of, but no one wants to be. I’m glad to be with my friends, but there’s always a part of me that is reluctant to endeavor beyond my front door.

I’m not dizzy or overwhelmed with all the possibilities. For the first time in a long time, I’m just…waking up and seeing where each day takes me. There’s no going through the motions. There’s impulsive actions and premeditated actions. There are those few rare quiet moments where I just blissfully zone out. I’ve stopped overthinking everything - about what’s going to happen with GDB, what’s going to happen with my new job, will I be transferring my degree from NYU to Berkeley,  will I meet new people, where will I move to after this job finishes, where is my life going to end up, who am I going to end up with, and so on and so forth.

If anything, this week has reminded me of those who are simply just around for the ride, as they serve as checkpoints reminding me, “We’re not going anywhere. You’re doing okay. You’re strong. We love you.” They make me laugh, they surprise me with their last minute decisions, they feed into my mind and give me thoughts to ponder, they challenge my cynicism, they encourage my not knowing anything, and they seem to get that I am disoriented, that I am feeling strange to what should be familiar surroundings. It’s only been five months, but it’s been one hell of a trip since then.

Until I do figure out what’s going on, my Pea in a Pod reminds me that not knowing is a state of grace. So, without any pomp and ceremony, overwhelming zeal, or desire to know the answers, I say, I don’t know. Because right now? I don’t.