16 August 2008


Lights go down and all I know
Is that you give me something

Oh, honestly. I say the "R" word and everyone comes running. You guys are hilarious!

It does amuse me no end that the posts that get the most hits are those that have anything to do with Rush. Even my blog screams "failure as a girl."

Not that I actually have a problem with that.

(And yes, on the subject of girliness, the Badgley Mischka cocktail dress looked fabulous. Man, that's a dress that everyone notices. But to balance the relative fabulousness of my appearance, I'll just point out that I succeeded in messing up both my manicure and my pedicure before I made my grand entrance that night. AND I'll also point out that I lost the belt to the dress nearly immediately. Worse, I think I accidentally threw it away. Don't ask...)

We hit the ground running this week, and I'm drowning in back-to-schoolness. Right now, the grind of getting back to daily life is enough of a job. Just driving to the store or to take the daughter to her friend's house is enough to make me dizzy after a month of not being behind the wheel, and of concentrating hard on navigating streets where everyone is driving on the wrong side of the road. I know there used to be a STOP sign at that intersection and the line is still on the road, but the sign is gone, and that was just...

Confusing. Beyond belief.

And I get on Blogger today and the dashboard has changed completely. And Feedburner...let's just say that there have been issues since May.

Hello, hello
I'm at a place called vertigo

Returning to this world has not been easy, because of course, it hasn't changed and I have. I am reminded of the last summer that I spent in my parents' house. It had been a particularly difficult six months of college, and I crashed with a bad case of pneumonia. I spent those months recovering...and reevaluating. By the end of the subsequent year, I'd turned my entire life on its head, moved in a new direction that was completely necessary.

It wasn't until I was away from everything that I realized how badly I crashed in June (yes, I agree, I should have guessed when I was standing there in Sky Harbor without a clue in the world which connecting flight I was meant to take because I couldn't remember where I was going).

So, crash, and its inevitable companion, reevaluation. I'm watching the shifts begin, slow, tectonic, while I'm battling my own natural impatience, restless, restive yet again. I am at a crossroads, dealing with all that entails and implies.

For the last year, the messages have poured in, loud and startling, a cascade that led to a certain amount of overload. You may think I don't pay attention, but I do, and I made progress in May, only to backslide in June. It is so much easier to remain blind and deaf to what those around me are saying (and doing). It is so much simpler to remain on my own bull-headed and oblivious path. But the voices, the actions, have become more insistent and I'm forced to really look at what this raw material is, what it is I'm trying to shape into a life, and who is alongside me on the trip.

I have always been more interested in the process than the outcome, more dedicated to the journey than the destination. But perhaps the end point needs to have a value, or why all the fuss?

I have resisted the overtures of so many of those around me, looked past them as they tried to get my attention. Not because they are unworthy of my notice, but because I feel unworthy of theirs. Because accepting what they see is a responsibility to be visible. For the first time I've realized how fear can be selfish.

Willful ignorance has a cost. Old habits are hard to break, but I think I'm tired of paying dues on this one.

It was funny to see that an old post--How Do I Get Through to You?--went back up on hit list (reading the archives, are we? It's ok; I do, too. Mostly to gain perspective, and occasionally to wonder, "What the hell am I talking about?"). Like most things, it's a double-edged sword. How do you get through to me? I know it's a lot of work...mainly because my friends and loved ones tell me this.

("I told you," says D. "But you didn't believe me."

"You always deny it when I tell you," says the spouse.

"Yes, we did tell you," say the son and daughter.

You look at me. Even I can see the exasperation on your face.)

So here I am at a crossroads. I am dizzy, with fear, with joy, with love for those around me and what they've given me, with confusion for what I just don't understand and have accepted that I never will, with lack of road signs. Here I am, simple as ever and complicated as could be. I don't ask for much, except when I want everything.

Here I am. Looking for adventure. Or whatever comes my way.

(Didn't you already do that? Sure, but why stop now?)

There is possibility all around me. I had no idea what I was getting myself into a year ago, but I knew exactly what I was doing when I started up four months ago. It's been confusing as hell, organic and disorganized. Really damn scary, but completely exhilarating.

I don't know exactly where I'm going. I don't always do this right. And that wins me a frown or a horse biting me on the butt. But I'm trying, give me credit for that much. Trying not to overthink, trying to allow what is there to just be.

uno, dos, tres...catorce!

Go listen to some good music: "Vertigo" from the album How to Dismantle an Atomic Bomb by U2.

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