Not Broken, Just Bent.

Dates

Tue, 18 Dec 2018 18:17:52 GMT

Should be moved into the new place by the end of the month. Looks like a bomb blew up - stuff everywhere. I'm not really moving into the second floor until next spring. I'm doing this for a few reasons -
1) I haven't been able to scrub the walls up there yet.
2) I want to paint before I move lots of stuff up there
3) I don't want to pay to heat it this winter.

There's a significant temperature difference between the downstairs and upstairs. Eventually I will live there, but not until I figure out a few things. Lists, lists, lists.

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Huh.

Tue, 09 Oct 2018 15:31:01 GMT

It's been well over a year since I was over here. Too many platforms, too little time.
Not much has changed, beyond accepting my anxiety and getting myself a brain mechanic for it. Social outings have gotten curiously difficult.
I tell myself I should journal more, but most everything I want to talk about dries up in my throat. The crushing anxiety of a directionless middle age. The depressing fear of our collective future. The innate desire to do something, anything, that will go on after I'm gone - a time with feels increasingly shorter and shorter. But why? Many others have already given these thoughts words.

With the death of G+ (where I mostly lurked, but was quietly watching) I might make the effort.
Anyway - Hey. It's nice to see you.

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Westling

Thu, 23 Feb 2017 16:49:29 GMT

I'm wrestling with my living space.
The price is right. The location is right. The environment has ceased to be.
I've been looking at condos, because then I don't have to do as much work around the place. I can be at the farm every weekend, like it feels like I already am, and not have to worry about cutting the grass.
The inventory around here is low, prices are high, and HOA fees are higher. It's depressing.
Then the question - Do I even want to stay around here?
No.
But there's no work opening up out west, and there's very little chance that I will be moving in with the SO. At this rate, probably ever. I have to protect my own assets first, and that means a better place to live.
I just don't know where.

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Things I don't want to forget -

Wed, 25 Jan 2017 23:50:54 GMT

• When I left the house the morning of 1/21/17, I was scared. I was alone, going to a place where I didn't know if I was going to be meeting friendly people or not, I decided to leave any form of weapon behind, including my trusty pocket knife that I carry every day. If I was going to do this, I was going to do this to the best of my abilities. I didn't know if there were going to be like, 20 people standing on the Common because everyone else got apathetic and stayed home.

• I agonized over how I dressed like someone preparing to hike the Whites in January. Layers rather than bulk, and clothes I could move in easy but that were abrasion resistant. Who knew my official brand of Protesting would be Duluth Trading Co.? What shoes? Sturdy hiking boots or running sneakers? (I settled on the boots.)

• When I got to the Commuter Rail platform, There was a sizable crowd already gathered, people in groups of 2, 4, +. Some singletons like myself.
There was a curious group of 4 white males, approx. late 20's/early 30's, who carried no signs, wore nothing to suggest they were going to the rally, at least not with good intentions. Their group, which I observed from the far side of the tracks, seemed nervous, agitated. They moved forward as if to get on the train headed east, reversed course, circled around as if to get on the platform again, and then eventually left. I observed no one being aggressive towards them, but their group dynamic and body language was peculiar.
The train was approaching capacity by Ashland, and was full in Framingham.

• I got off in Back Bay, and walked over to the Garden, very slowly made my way to the Common. It was already packed.

• The mood was cautiously optimistic. Resolute, determined, yet warm. I don't know how that makes any sense, but it did at the time. People were friendly.

• People liked my sign. I was shy, I didn't think anyone would care, because there were no swears, no colors, and no witty sayings. But history. One cop really complemented it, really liked it. I wanted to hug him, but the sign was in the way.

• I still hate crowds like that. 150k people can suck the life right out of you. Not being able to move was a test in mental control. I still don't like it, and all I could think about was the crush in Kenmore right before the bombing, when Ian and I mused about population densities and biological weapons. Not a joyful thing to keep your heart light when you're shuffling along by inches.

• I saw every age, and every skin tone, and every gender reflected in the crowd. Children were everywhere. I really liked that.

• Bringing a granola bar was a very good idea. Not drinking water so I wouldn't need to find a bathroom was a mixed bag. It turned out to be partly sunny and about 50*, so I wound up dehydrated and spent the next two days chugging water.

• Meeting Shu_Al was wonderful luck. Thought I had resolved to being ok with being there "alone" it was better to have a buddy. Cell phone use was spotty. True texts were the way to go.

• My feet really hurt after that, and it was good to sit down and have a beer.

• The Free Hugs Pitbull was the best.

I don't know what to take away from this, other than if we could get all women and people who are allies of women's concerns pointed in the same direction, we could be an unstoppable force. That people still believe in kindness. That people still do desire to do good. That maybe it isn't always pointed in exactly the direction this specific cause or that specific cause would like, but people want to do good.

There are still good people in the world. That's what I have to hold onto from all of this. That we aren't all apathetic and cynical to the point of in-action.

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Tue, 24 Jan 2017 17:43:34 GMT

I'm trying to get a handle on the Women's March, in which I participated this past Saturday.
I'm trying to figure out how I feel about the whole thing.
I know it was important for me to go. I know I'm glad I went. I know that I feel like it was the right thing to do.
I'm trying to tease out the message that I heard that day from the messages I've been hearing afterwards, and decide what I want to take away from all of this.

More later. I have to reflect on all of this further.

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It's been years, but now I'm here.

Thu, 05 Jan 2017 01:43:27 GMT

Migrated over from LJ, and sadly, nixing that account. I'm sort of sad about it, as it's been my longest lasting online thing. Heck, I started LJ in my second year of college, I think, though I'm loathe to go back and look. Younger me should stay younger, and fixed in her point in time.

Life has changed since I logged in that first time. A lot.

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Equity

Wed, 21 Mar 2012 02:31:43 GMT

the equity we invest in each other
in friends, in love
like anything else,
good investments and bad

And then,
sometimes it's just a wash.

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Sun, 11 Mar 2012 01:12:09 GMT

Brass is brittle and chippy.
Interesting.

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Timeline whiplash

Sun, 04 Mar 2012 18:44:19 GMT

I started going through old posts last night, weeding the poetry out of the crap.
How young I was. How little I knew. I knew it even then that I didn't know, but some primordial drive forced me through.
Things once important now almost forgotten. Opinions once concrete now softened.
How many people drifted away, died. How many new people I've found.
How much I've changed, and not, in 10 years.
Still,
How young I am. How little I know. How far I've yet to go.

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Wed, 29 Feb 2012 19:31:03 GMT

Trying out Dreamwidth, mostly for the backup options.
I have a lot of poetry I'd be crushed to loose.

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