zana16: The Beatles with text "All you need is love" (Default)
Sorry to drop off the radar for so long. Wish it were for better reasons than it actually was. Not completely back yet, but getting there. Hopefully.

In the time since I've last written, I've managed to lose my cellphone. This means I no longer have many of your phone numbers (wail of despair!!!).

In the time since I've last written, my brother's roof fell in. Now he is living in his landlord's shed. ...Yup... Well, look, he'd be living under my bed, wouldn't he, except he's five states away from me!

In the time since I've last written, my tentative plans of becoming a Buddhist nun met a fiery and ironic death. Nuff said.

In the time since I've last written, I discovered Pros fandom. Oh. My. God.
It is the crackiest crack in the world. And since The Professionals aired before I was even born, the fandom has thirty years of crack. Mmmmm...

In the time since I've last written, the world has gone to hell in a handbasket, and those of you who are planning not to vote? DEAD TO ME. I don't care who you vote for, just do it, dammit!

In the time since I've last written, I had a wonderful, beautiful, lovely, exquisite week in which depression did not once touch me. It was amazing. It was awesome. It was just so... nice. Then the black netting caught me again and pulled me under for two weeks, worse luck. Just barely keeping afloat these days.

Er... travel plans:

1) I'll be in SA over Christmas, so all those (two or three) people whose numbers I lost with my phone? You should definitely give me your phone numbers before then.

2) I'll probably be in Boston for a trade show for a few days in October. Do I know anyone who's still in Boston? If so, call me, because I guarantee I don't have your number... I mean, I couldn't even call my dad cause I don't know any numbers by heart!

3) All you DC folk, I am collecting strays for Thanksgiving. I'm flying my brother up here--ghod willing he'll have a home by then--and I'm hosting an actual honest-to-Pete dinner at my place. We hope it will not be a disaster... I've never even cooked a chicken in my life, let alone a turkey... but we figure if we burn the house down we can go to the Olive Garden across the road. So if you are in the area and don't have Thanksgiving plans, please come! Only let me know a bit beforehand if you can, please, so I'll have a rough count of who all is coming.
zana16: The Beatles with text "All you need is love" (Default)
I went to see Mr Smith Goes to Washington tonight, which was sooo good, and made me teary-eyed, and made me glad that I'm no longer on head-meds that made me so fucking STABLE and EVENKEELED and BLAH that I couldn't tear up at good movies or meditations or even a death in the family cause NO YOU CAN'T BE DEPRESSED WHEN YOU HAVE NO FEELINGS WHATSOEVER. And it occurs to me I may have some anger issues over losing six years of my life to drug-induced emotional stunting, but anyways, movie! Soooo awesome. And Jimmy Stewart! OMG I want to marry him. He's just... he's just amazing. He doesn't have to rely on dialogue, or swelling music, or anything; he just acts, and it's fucking amazing. That is all.


Apr. 18th, 2008 06:48 pm
zana16: The Beatles with text "All you need is love" (Default)
It's spring, and spring is always bittersweet for me. It takes me a while to remember, sometimes, that spring is about death as much as it is about life; cherry blossoms and daffodils and green green grass fill me with such unhesitating joy after the dark of winter (seasonal affective disorder R Us) that I forget how fleeting it is.

Dacey asked for daffodils. He'd offered her anything she wanted, but she asked for daffodils. Elijah couldn't understand. "But they'll die," he said. And she wouldn't ask for anything else, didn't want any strings--as if saving someone's life isn't the biggest string possible--so he gave her daffodils every week, even when he had to have them flown in specially from the islands, in an effort to prove that his love was not as fleeting as the flowers she'd asked for.

It's warm out and there are flowers and I've been loving it so much, and just today I remembered that for all spring is a celebration of life, spring doesn't stay. And sure, we wouldn't appreciate the beauty if it were all around us all the time, but I still have trouble living in the now and enjoying what is. And I know it's a cycle, but I get caught in the death part... spring always takes me by surprise, and every year I don't quite believe in it until it's already over, and things are getting ready to die again.

Daffodils are my favorite flowers. They're just so ridiculous and lovely and happy and spring-y. And they're never here long enough for me to believe that they'll last... love and life and spring.
zana16: The Beatles with text "All you need is love" (Default)
Part of starting to get my head sorted out is trying to get to know the person that I've become while I wasn't paying attention.

You wouldn't think it was hard to get to know yourself, but then you're not me. I'm no good at getting to know people, and to suddenly realize that I can't count on my mainstays--am I really a writer if I haven't put anything to paper in almost a year, am I really a mathy type when I go whole weeks without even thinking about integrals and differential equations, am I really a workaholic now I've found more fun things to hide myself in, am I really that responsible one now that my friends have grown up and I don't have to be the designated driver anymore?--anyways, it's disorienting. I'm not my history, not anymore, but it is a part of me, I guess.

So I'm trying to get to know myself, and it doesn't help that I'm running away constantly. It's like I'm afraid to get to know myself cause hey, maybe I won't like myself. So it comes down to little factoids:


LIKES: avacados, dark chocolate, good fiction with complex characters, philosophy, slash, ecology, amusing conspiracy theories

DISLIKES: the Maryland DMV, buying clothes, projectile ketchup, cleaning my room, the medical establishment

Doesn't give me much of an idea of what makes me tick.

And it's not much use trying to get to know me through my friends. The other night H, in the middle of a discussion about smoking pot with one's parents (I haven't, she has), said to me, "Anyways, it's been a few years. You're the person I'd go to if I wanted to smoke out now." I looked back at her and said, "But you're my go-to person for illicit substances. Well, shit." And then we felt old. Apparently, old is when you've gone so long not smoking out that you don't have a source when you want to.

On a related note, a friend has learned how to make ice cream and looked up on the internet how to make pot ice cream. Only he can't find a source, either. We all suck.

Erm, lost the thread there. Oh right: getting to know myself. My point is: I spend so much time in my own head, you'd think I'd know myself pretty well by now. But I don't.

I keep reading fiction revolving around "How well can one person really know another?" Even if you're related, even if you're married, you only get a slice. But with myself, I don't know who the fuck I am. This may be an indication that I need to get the fuck back into therapy. But first I need to get to the point where I know that I actually want to get to know myself.

...I swear, I can't have a normal nervous breakdown like anyone else, can I? Noooo, I have to be the one with issues nobody else seems to share. Where am I supposed to find a support group for "coming out of years of depression, not sure whether I'm an interesting human being now that I'm not navel-gazing anymore"???


zana16: The Beatles with text "All you need is love" (Default)

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