I've been nose to the grindstone lately, making an attempt to get caught up (or- gasp!- ahead) at work so I can jet off to Ireland in peace. Or at least semi-peace, knowing my coworkers won't be bombarded by BS I've had to leave behind. I'm excited about Ireland, of course, but equally stressed out about how I am going to pay all of my bills (the spreadsheet could choke a digital horse) for November and December and still make the following happen: Halloween celebrations, Steph's wedding weekend, IRELAND, Thanksgiving, Christmas...I have already slacked on some birthdays lately and though I have big dreams for making more money next year and enhancing my credit score (think bows and ribbons on a janky Charlie Brown tree enhancements,) but I don't want to count any chickens pre-hatch.
On the love end of things, I'm just adrift. I'm connecting with people- a lot of boys actually, which is new and different- and feeling a lot of great things. But I still haven't felt heart-wrenchingly, knock-the-wind-out-of-you stabbed by anything. Not since that one boy fell off the radar. That's OK. We can't feel big things everyday, or else we would all probably be a mess and never able to get work done or get to the gym. But I hope, someday, I end up with someone who makes me feel small pieces of a big things everyday. Talking with friends in long term relationships lately- healthy ones, at that- I have come to realize though I am enjoying the dating world so much, I do, in the back of my head, just want someone to cook dinner for, wash the dishes with and cuddle up with for a movie. It's fun staying out late and discovering hidden corners of the city and meeting new people and unearthing miscellaneous facts about them, but come on...a girl can only remember so many things about so many people. Or make out with a certain number of people til she starts wondering the value of half empty kisses. And I mean half empty on my part...Counting chickens may not be a good idea in this realm either, but putting eggs in one basket...as I've said before...might not be so bad. We'll have to see.
On the creative side of the world, I have been having lots of fun. I have been working on a secret project since May and it's starting to take some fun shape. I have been updating my roommate's company's website and working on monograms for a friend's wedding...creating a logo for an LA a capella group and pixelating pictures for my friend's apartment wall art project. I love that people come to me with ideas and projects, but I sometimes feel guilty that I can't do more or put more time into them. I feel like balancing these things into the equation makes for a happier Amanda, but spending more than a few hours a week on each just leads to me getting less sleep. Not good.
But this, my friends, is all for now. For it is time for lunch. And then back to work. I will write more soon and I apologize to some people who feel coughcoughrichcoughcough like I've been slacking....Love to all. Watch the leaves fall.
Thursday, October 29, 2009
Thursday, October 8, 2009
Project Mission: Day Twenty-Seven
Well, it has been said before. I am often unable to fully commit to projects I throw myself into. I usually finish things, but it often takes a few days. Or weeks. Or sometimes, a hiatus of years (I speak of a particular mission to grow my hair to my waist.)
Looking back to days 1 and 3, I was looking to achieve a more relaxed balance for life. I think in many respects, this has gone well. I am more comfortable leaving the office at 5 even if every single thing hasn't been taken care of. This may sound like poor work ethic, but I will say this much- working 13-15 hours a day for multiple days in a row keeps stress at a very high level and makes for a poor Amanda ethic.
In a more personal sense, I have refound that feeling that I've had before...that I don't need to prove my worth to any person, place or ideal on this earth. I often get wrapped up in new people or new situations or commitments that become "be all, end all" for a hot minute and I forget that I am perfectly fulfilled without those anxieties. Balancing a social life and a professional life has also become slightly easier or messier, which ever way you view it since the arrival of
this little buddy.
On the eve of my running out of cell phone minutes for this guy,
I realized that I had another resource. I am not a heavy cell phone user as it is. I don't chit chat, really. Simple necessaries, I call it, though I lived many years without having the ability to communicate these "necessaries" on the road...and I survived. As demonstrated in July, I can live without a cell phone just fine. But I feel taking small advantage of my resources to keep life organized is a smart choice.
I have also resigned myself to the fact that I do need money for food every week. Sounds like something the obvious girl could have told me, but gosh, in the tizzy of getting every bill paid every month, I often forget. I forget that food doesn't extend to the backs of the cupboards and that I will often walk into the office kitchen, seeking what combination of leftovers and gift basket condiments could possibly be a meal today.
So pulling it all together, I have worked hard to put the correct pieces on each side of the scale, and though it's still wobbling and things fall off and get placed back on, we are somewhat balanced today, these days, and hopefully, in the days to come.
So the mission for day 27 and beyond...to be more graceful in all things. This will have to be a continuation of the original combination of relaxed balance, but incorporating a more steady heart and mind and applying beauty to the whole damn thing. That will be the mission. Graceful balance. Like walking with an unabridged dictionary on my head in 5 inch stilettos in Shelton Hall in 2004, I will probably tip over and crash into people. And I will probably resort to sitting on the ground and eating olives and laughing hysterically. But if not for trying to grow, we would all stay small and unremarkable. Here we go, here we go, here we go again. Here we go again.
Looking back to days 1 and 3, I was looking to achieve a more relaxed balance for life. I think in many respects, this has gone well. I am more comfortable leaving the office at 5 even if every single thing hasn't been taken care of. This may sound like poor work ethic, but I will say this much- working 13-15 hours a day for multiple days in a row keeps stress at a very high level and makes for a poor Amanda ethic.
In a more personal sense, I have refound that feeling that I've had before...that I don't need to prove my worth to any person, place or ideal on this earth. I often get wrapped up in new people or new situations or commitments that become "be all, end all" for a hot minute and I forget that I am perfectly fulfilled without those anxieties. Balancing a social life and a professional life has also become slightly easier or messier, which ever way you view it since the arrival of
this little buddy.
On the eve of my running out of cell phone minutes for this guy,
I realized that I had another resource. I am not a heavy cell phone user as it is. I don't chit chat, really. Simple necessaries, I call it, though I lived many years without having the ability to communicate these "necessaries" on the road...and I survived. As demonstrated in July, I can live without a cell phone just fine. But I feel taking small advantage of my resources to keep life organized is a smart choice.
I have also resigned myself to the fact that I do need money for food every week. Sounds like something the obvious girl could have told me, but gosh, in the tizzy of getting every bill paid every month, I often forget. I forget that food doesn't extend to the backs of the cupboards and that I will often walk into the office kitchen, seeking what combination of leftovers and gift basket condiments could possibly be a meal today.
So pulling it all together, I have worked hard to put the correct pieces on each side of the scale, and though it's still wobbling and things fall off and get placed back on, we are somewhat balanced today, these days, and hopefully, in the days to come.
So the mission for day 27 and beyond...to be more graceful in all things. This will have to be a continuation of the original combination of relaxed balance, but incorporating a more steady heart and mind and applying beauty to the whole damn thing. That will be the mission. Graceful balance. Like walking with an unabridged dictionary on my head in 5 inch stilettos in Shelton Hall in 2004, I will probably tip over and crash into people. And I will probably resort to sitting on the ground and eating olives and laughing hysterically. But if not for trying to grow, we would all stay small and unremarkable. Here we go, here we go, here we go again. Here we go again.
Wednesday, October 7, 2009
Spiky Spikes.
An Interpretive Poem for Wednesday Morning
I am at the cube at Comcast
And when I sit up straight (which I usually do)
And stare straight ahead
I am eye level with the top of the wall part where it meets the glass part
and I see only the spiky hair of the middle aged man who sits in the next cube
The middle aged spiky hair man...
Just the spikes
like a tiny patch of brown grass.
It is my corporate field of dreams. The spikes are always spikier on the other side of the cube.
I am at the cube at Comcast
And when I sit up straight (which I usually do)
And stare straight ahead
I am eye level with the top of the wall part where it meets the glass part
and I see only the spiky hair of the middle aged man who sits in the next cube
The middle aged spiky hair man...
Just the spikes
like a tiny patch of brown grass.
It is my corporate field of dreams. The spikes are always spikier on the other side of the cube.
Monday, October 5, 2009
A brighter grace
I left work on Friday and half ran to the XPN Free at Noon concert at the World Live Cafe, mainly to see my new musical obsession, Langhorne Slim. Maybe less of an obsession and more of a calculated and adoring interest. His band's sound makes me want to lie in the grass and then get up and jump around and sprint to the river and jump in. What grass? What river? I'm not sure. But I'm digressing. Langhorne Slim did not let me down. I was blessed to be with Susan who, though I was ready to run back to work, bumped into the Slim himself and brought him out to meet, greet, hug and smile in pictures for me. And then she bought his CD and the whole band signed it. These were all amazing things.
But the real punch in the face happened during the second half of the performance when fellow Americana folk rocker, Will Hoge, and his band were on stage. Nearing the end of Langhorne Slim's performance, I'd gotten a little teary eyed because their music was so *UGHH* good. The good kind of good. The great kind of good. But there was something about Will's voice and the bluesy steel pick sound that tore me up from the beginning of their time on stage. I literally spent the entire set in various stages of tears and grinning and clapping and dancing. Not in a gross, snotty, eww-look-at-that-gross-girl way, but in a more contained and natural way. At least I think it was :) That is, I felt contained until I had a great moment of brain and heart and soul seizure. The thoughts, as I was grooving to these sounds pulsing and pulling on my chest, started flowing into my head- "I do not want to grow up, grow old, get cold, forget how to love like this, to let myself go, to let myself become fully a part of things. I don't want to. I don't want to. I can't let it happen." And it was at that moment, when realizing how much I had been willing to compromise to find someone to share myself with every moment- friends, family, lovers, coworkers, even strangers on the street- and how I kept little bits of my happiness hidden and major parts of me to myself, and how little I really needed to do so, that I felt the most warm and joyful.
I will grow old. I will grow up. I already have. Though, I’ve felt very young lately. Young at heart, which is nothing new, but especially young in my mind. I’ve felt confusion and hesitance, coupled with a heart-stopping compulsive joy that has just boggled my mind. The joy has come from within and from my experiences and maybe even things I don’t understand yet. The confusion though, and the hesitance, from a place that feels oddly like my later teenage years, when I was trying to figure out just who it is that I am and what I’d like to get out of the world. I guess I'm back there again, but a little more graceful and quieter and sweeter this time. I'm trying to get this being a girl thing down, I swear.
But just because I am getting it all down, the task of getting my heart into one solid piece to give to someone else can't really be a focus. Not at all. I think it may just happen when I'm not looking. For now, I'll just make sure the music never dies, my fingers keep painting and tapping and drumming and my face keeps smiling and that my mouth never says things my brain doesn't agree with. I haven't found it, but gosh, maybe I haven't lost it either.
But the real punch in the face happened during the second half of the performance when fellow Americana folk rocker, Will Hoge, and his band were on stage. Nearing the end of Langhorne Slim's performance, I'd gotten a little teary eyed because their music was so *UGHH* good. The good kind of good. The great kind of good. But there was something about Will's voice and the bluesy steel pick sound that tore me up from the beginning of their time on stage. I literally spent the entire set in various stages of tears and grinning and clapping and dancing. Not in a gross, snotty, eww-look-at-that-gross-girl way, but in a more contained and natural way. At least I think it was :) That is, I felt contained until I had a great moment of brain and heart and soul seizure. The thoughts, as I was grooving to these sounds pulsing and pulling on my chest, started flowing into my head- "I do not want to grow up, grow old, get cold, forget how to love like this, to let myself go, to let myself become fully a part of things. I don't want to. I don't want to. I can't let it happen." And it was at that moment, when realizing how much I had been willing to compromise to find someone to share myself with every moment- friends, family, lovers, coworkers, even strangers on the street- and how I kept little bits of my happiness hidden and major parts of me to myself, and how little I really needed to do so, that I felt the most warm and joyful.
I will grow old. I will grow up. I already have. Though, I’ve felt very young lately. Young at heart, which is nothing new, but especially young in my mind. I’ve felt confusion and hesitance, coupled with a heart-stopping compulsive joy that has just boggled my mind. The joy has come from within and from my experiences and maybe even things I don’t understand yet. The confusion though, and the hesitance, from a place that feels oddly like my later teenage years, when I was trying to figure out just who it is that I am and what I’d like to get out of the world. I guess I'm back there again, but a little more graceful and quieter and sweeter this time. I'm trying to get this being a girl thing down, I swear.
But just because I am getting it all down, the task of getting my heart into one solid piece to give to someone else can't really be a focus. Not at all. I think it may just happen when I'm not looking. For now, I'll just make sure the music never dies, my fingers keep painting and tapping and drumming and my face keeps smiling and that my mouth never says things my brain doesn't agree with. I haven't found it, but gosh, maybe I haven't lost it either.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)