This is wending its way to adoption, of course, natch what doesn’t?
So part one things that were circulating coalesced and flocculated.
I have always been a planner, I have day plans, week plans, month plans, decade plans and on. Since I started this blog, I have reevaluated a lot in my life. When I was plotting my life, I hadn’t counted on my interest in Buddhism interfering. My decision to examine what motivated some of my behaviors and investigate my personal experience with adoption has changed me in ways I could have never foreseen.
Back to ye olde crisis though, so like I said, I left college life behind, I mean not in any dramatic fashion, who stays close with their college crowd throughout life? My best college friend, Magisco, and I are still in touch, well in touch for me, I am not the best, most considerate communicator, but I visited her just last year. I have other friends from that period who I am still close too despite my friends being the type to consistently take off for points unknown, spread out in big cities across these United States, if they are in the country.
I have always been attracted to interested people. So right after school, not exactly it was one of those one door closes and another door opens, but the hallway is hell situations. For the first year after school I was quite confused and lost. I dispaired that I would end up with a whistle around my neck yelling at kids to get off the monkey-bars for the rest of my life. The first job I got was at a school program so I could be with Tomtom.
Within a year though, I had my dream job. It really was. It was creative, involved travel, and making really cool stuff. The best part was the other people I worked with creative, smart, funny, salt of the earthers, mostly also young and some of the boys I admit turned my head in ways I shouldn’t have been turning it. Really it was a total set-up, the long hours, the loneliness—
Of course there is always a down side to these kind of environments, giant egos, competition, I mean obviously the inverse of creativity is destruction, and I have never met anyone as mean as those with artistic temperments. It is the ability to perceive, a key ingredient,
that sharpens the knife to such a grade, that it is nearly welcomed by the victim.
Oh and I was a scandal, of course, it is second nature to me, starting with the outrageous act of my birth.
So in this mood of reflection, I googled some of my old comrades. It was shocking, their pictures are all over the web. They are on boards of major things that I would like to be on the boards of. I mean it is not like the people I do keep in touch with haven’t also been pursuing lofty goals, but they aren’t shocking to me.
One woman in particular, who lived to make me miserable while pretending to be my friend, incited my jealousy. There she was smiling like the good sport she always was, one of the chief reasons for my envy. L. was ALWAYS a good sport, when she wasn’t being bitchy and viscious, but she could always put on a show, whereas I was saying exactly what I thought and often all I had to say was, “I am tired”
It is not like I really want to live a life where I am photographed at parties all the time, I have been to those kind of parties. The fancy research doctor I used to date loved that kind of thing and was always fussing at me to hurry hurry before we missed having our picture taken and I would say things in response like, “you are pathetic”
So I am not jealous so much of L.s social success as wanting to want that. That sent me to bed for an entire day, which isn’t really like me. Usually only family can do that to me.
There is a project I really want to take part in, but it is at a gallery a huge exlove is very involved with. It is not that I feel worried that he would threaten my current relationship, it is that I feel like the last 5 years have been pretty much a big fat nothing for me. Me, doing what I always thought I wanted to do— humming along quietly. I don’t want to run into people and have them wonder what happened to me, why have I become such a drifty loser?
I feel like at one point I started to hide behind the responsibilities of motherhood. I mean sure I love being Tomtom’s mom, but I know that it is not an either or situation. I accomplished a lot when he was little.
Where I live, there are a lot of hills, at 6:00 a.m. last Sunday my car was perched at the top of one, the streets were quiet, the view remarkable. There is something psychologically challenging about act of consistently climbing hills. Taking the dizzying vista in before you release and hope your brakes don’t fail.
I found myself asking what exactly am I doing now?
What are my excuses now?
