Blogging Like a Teenager on Tumblr

Ok, so this is more of a Twitter/Tumblr kind of post, but it’s been rolling around in my head for the last twelve hours, so I gotta get it out:

Standing in line to pick up my fan prizes for ordering my season tickets, I got a blip on my iPhone telling me that I had been ousted as the mayor of the Sommet Center on foursquare by the girl. I looked back at where she was sitting, and she had the cutest little guilty, goofy smile. I knew she had been watching me to see my reaction. That was a happy time. “The cutest place on Earth,” indeed. At that one little point, I thought it just might last.

Wow. There ya go folks…just like a teenager.

No, I’m not going to start posting emo stuff on Tumblr or anything crazy like that.

Things That Make Me Smile

Recently, I had the opportunity to talk with a good friend from the high school days.  Now, before anyone gets too excited here, let me reiterate that she is just a FRIEND. We may have dated back in the college days–but that was 10+ years ago (yikes).  Everyone just settle down now.  Ok, now we can resume:

So, she knew I was a little down, and as always, she knew just when to call.  She’s one of those who always is there for me when I need her–and I try to do the same for her.  Soon after our chat, I got this awesome pick-me-up E-mail from her, which included the little snippet below:

Things that also make me smile:
  • Your morning phone calls during the 3M commute.
  • The way that after not talking for 6 weeks or 6 months, we fall so easily into it.
  • The adoring way you look at me, always.
  • Those g-damn dimples.
  • Falling asleep on a couch with you.
  • You get me – the good, the bad, and most of the ugly.
  • The way that when you fall for a girl, you give her all you have.
  • The way that you’re the perfect height to put your arm around me.
How can I NOT smile about this?

Going From MJ’s Death to a Life Lesson

This morning, I read an early movie review that needed to establish when it was written, because the review was on an unfinished rough cut of the final film. The author chose to establish his time frame in a somewhat novel fashion by using a “where were you when you heard about” time reference.  In this case, the occasion was Michael Jackson’s death on June 25, 2009.  That got me thinking about last summer and just where I was and what I was doing at that time, because I remember it being somewhat of a blur.  I do remember I learned of MJ’s death on twitter first (thanks, iPhone!), then listened to the car radio on the way home from work that afternoon.  Then, I remembered some other things, and I had to look back at my calendar to figure it all out.

Wow.  Simply put:  June 2009 was a crazy month.   No wonder I remember it as nothing but a blur.

My relationship with the cute hockey fan girl was just a month old, and we had gone from zero to serious in no time flat.  I was spending a lot of time in Nashville already, and for the most part was loving every bit of it—even if I was still a little conflicted about being away from the farm so much right as the chore season started ramping up.

Early in the month, I flew to Houston for my brothers “graduation” from his fellowship.  I ended up driving one of his cars back home for him, the next day, which was a LONG day trip to make in the Texas, Louisiana and Mississippi sun.  I remember hitting Birmingham and feeling drowsy around 11pm, so some caffeine was in order.  When I got to Nashville, I stopped for the night—and then couldn’t sleep until after 2am.  Thanks, caffeine.

I think I did father’s day with Dad at the lake.  I know I skipped ARRL Field Day Weekend in favor of hanging in Nashville with the girl.  In fact, I figured out I skipped a lot of things last year, which I kind of regret now.  That’s not a dig at our relationship.  It’s a dig at myself for sacrificing things when I really didn’t need to.  I understand why I did:  New girl, honeymoon phase…totally understandable, but my advice to self for next time is:  Enjoy the things you love, especially those things that only happen once a year.  Know the difference between compromise and sacrifice.  One is good, the other not so much, if done to excess.

Ok, sorry.  I know this rehashing the past makes for boring blog reading—and frankly, it makes for boring blog writing, too.  I guess the whole point of this post was to describe how my thought process went from “Where was I when MJ died?” to a little life lesson and reminder that it’s good to love, but not OK to lose yourself in the process.

Dream Control: Blessing. Curse. Both.

I’m one of those people who can take control of dreams if they start to get out of hand.  I rarely have out-of-control-scary nightmares, because I never let them get that far.  When things start to get really freaky, I just say to myself “This isn’t real” and I stop it.  When realistic things happen in my dreams that are still uncomfortable, I can usually put an end to those, too.

For example, I might have a dream where I come back to my parked car to find it totally gutted out and stripped clean of my property.  I’ll feel the pit of loss in my stomach.  A voice will say: “Looks like you left the doors unlocked, with all your stuff–even your laptop–in plain sight, and you parked in a bad spot.”

Here is where I take over:  “No, I would never do something like that.  This is obviously a dream, and it ends now.”  Then, I wake up.

Pretty nice, right?  Well, sometimes that backfires on “pleasant” dreams, too.

Take last night for example.  Perhaps writing last night’s blog post (not “viewable by public” just yet) right before I went to bed caused me to have a dream where I was “visited” by a ghost of girlfriend past.  It was actually rather pleasant—right up until my rational mind took over to remind me it couldn’t possibly be real and woke me up suddenly.

Sigh.

My subconscious emotional defense mechanisms are still at work.

Blogging My Tweets? On Second Thought, Not For Me, Thanks.

Have you seen where bloggers will publish a long list of their tweets as a blog post, perhaps as a way to capture developing thoughts as an event unfolded?  Or maybe they do it as an attempt to keep oft-neglected blogs relevant in the age of the all-too-easy 140-character random thought blast?

I will confess I was going to do the same thing and post a huge list of tweets here, but after some reflection and some time for the proverbial coke bottle to get out of the sun, I decided against it.

OK, so what is this nonsense all about?  For those who may have missed it, something happened back in January.

Remember that girl I used to talk about?  We aren’t together anymore.

I took the breakup quite hard.  I’m not sure why it hit me like a truck, and I’m still trying to figure that bit out.  Anyway, in the post-breakup aftermath, I took a hiatus from twitter, facebook, blogging and all the other “public” channels on the advice of a close friend.  I needed to retreat for a while to recover and reflect, and frankly, I didn’t need to be all crazy and bitter-sounding in public, but I still needed an outlet.  So, instead of posting I captured my thoughts privately as they came to me over the course of a month.

I started when I walked past my laptop and just randomly typed out this thought, which then set the tone for the rest:

“I knew how it would end soon after it started.”

Then I proceeded to fill no less than twelve typed pages—close to 10,000 words–with random thoughts.  Some of those thoughts might have been good twitter material, some should never have been written, and some would have made no sense to anyone, save perhaps myself and only one other.

For a while, I considered posting all those random, disjointed and neurotic thoughts in a blog post here.  Fortunately, I decided to err on the side of caution and discretion. Why would I have even considered posting those things?  I’m not sure.  Perhaps I didn’t want to all that writing effort to go to waste?  Maybe I wanted an audience to somehow validate my feelings.  I still don’t know.  I do know I’m glad I didn’t put them up for all to see.

Eventually, I came to realize that publication wouldn’t solve anything—in fact, it would just prolong the process and probably make things much worse.  Shouting from the rooftops in the hope of being heard by a sympathetic ear was not the goal.  Healing was the goal.  Writing it all out, then letting it all go…that was the healing process.

So, we finally come to the point of this post.  I am letting that material go.  I am putting those thoughts behind me.  They will not be published, except for the last few lines.  When I wrote the conclusion, I wasn’t actually done with my little writing therapy process.  However, I was still encouraged by the fact that an end was in sight–and there was perhaps even some of that elusive “closure” thing everyone always talks about.

The ending goes like this:

OK, enough. Let’s end this. Now. Time to stop dancing around the issue. Here is what is really behind all this writing:

Watching the one you love pull away from you while she is developing a crush on someone else hurts. A lot.

Realizing there is nothing you can do about it makes it worse at first, but it is also the first step in healing.

There. I finally said it.

Farewell, WivQ. I loved you.

Now, it’s time to get back to living life.

Thanks for reading all this, and thanks for being there for me as I worked through it.

So, there it is:  The elephant in the room has finally been acknowledged.  If you have been wondering what was up with me lately, now you know.  This is the last time I’m going to address this issue directly, because  as I wrote last month:  It’s time to start living life again.

Let’s go.

Why Do We Look For The Greener Grass?

One of my friends recently posted on facebook:

“Why do people ‘fall in love’ with things they can never have?”

She then followed up with:

“… I just think it’s wierd how “people” are so obsessed with things/people they can never have in their life and miss out on other things/people that would make them just as happy if not more… I do it too… I just don’t understand it…”

After some reflection, I responded:

I’ve often pondered the exact thought you pose here, especially when looking back at what “could have been.”

We have all looked past the person right in front of us while pursuing the unattainable shiny new thing standing on the greener grass in the next pasture over.  Why do we do it?  Human nature, maybe?  Fear of “settling” or making the “wrong” choice?  Why do we do it?  It’s hard to say.  Maybe there isn’t one answer.

Regardless of why, when I think, “I really shouldn’t have chased after Lady A, I should have paid attention to Lady B,” it starts to get me down.  I start to think I really screwed up and missed out—I’m sure we all know how that goes.  However, when I REALLY think about it, I come to realize that one of the main reasons I didn’t pay attention to the otherwise perfectly (probably more) suitable Lady B at the time is simple:  I just wasn’t ready.  She may have been, but I wasn’t.  Do I still wish I could go back and do it differently sometimes?  Of course, but I have to remember that life’s all about timing, and if you’re both not fully ready, it’s not going to work.

So, that’s how I make peace with this question, anyway.  Your mileage may vary.

Does this make sense to you, dear reader?  Or am I blowing smoke here? Comments welcome.