peek a boo
I need to start posting on this here blog again. I’ve been tumbling and twitting and facebooking, but sometimes I miss writing in more than just snippets.
I’m very close to opening an Etsy shop. Nothing too fantastic to start, but it’s definitely been a big goal of mine and what with my recent obsession with sewing, the two seem to go hand in hand. I actually woke up at 5:30am and laid in bed thinking how much I’d like to go upstairs and sew. Unfortunately with our creaky floors and my loud machine, it didn’t seem right to do to Greg. So I waited until he got up at 6:30 and then went up and sewed. I am such a geek.
Someone on the other side of my desk has the most amazing smelling bouquet of flowers, it almost makes me not want to go home.
Truth be told, I’ve been having an existential crisis the past few months, that’s probably why I haven’t blogged. I’m just trying to figure some big things out, but the big things become even bigger and bigger in my head, and then I just can’t deal.
Casey’s coming for a visit next week!! I’m so excited, I haven’t seen her in aaaages and I really miss her. I’m not too much of a phone person, and email is simply no substitute for our banter, so I’m wondering how we’re possibly going to hit every important topic in the short few days that she’s here.
small triumphs
I’ve decided that doing small things that you can feel good about is sort of handy. I mean *really* small things. Things that really aren’t even worth blogging about, but that I’m going to blog about anyway, because that’s what blogs are for.
Small triumphs for today:
- picking up some trash in the street in front of my house (which I should always do anyway but sometimes I’m lazy)
- eating my oatmeal despite the strong desire to get a bagel
ready or not, here I sew
I might be a bit naive, but I just ordered this pattern from Betsy Ross. Am I ready to make an actual, wearable dress? Probably not, but it will be an adventure, anyway.
from “leaves of grass”
When I Read the Book
When I read the book, the biography famous,
And is this then (said I) what the author calls a man’s life?
And so will some one when I am dead and gone write my life?
(As if any man really knew aught of my life,
Why even I myself I often think know little or nothing of my real life,
Only a few hints, a few diffused faint clews and indirections
I seek for my own use to trace out here.)
——–
I’m currently getting Leaves of Grass through DailyLit, and I just sort of liked this one.
i don’t want to get over you
I really can’t get Melanie out of my head. Just when I’ve forgotten about it, the thought comes rushing back. It’s that feeling of, “I’m feeling ok right now but for some reason I think I shouldn’t be, but I can’t think of why….oh right…because Melanie died.” And then I feel a little sad. And then it sinks in that I will never be able to read her journal again, and she’ll never have any more adventures to follow, and she’s this beautiful amazing girl who’s just gone. And it’s even more strange that I didn’t really know her that well, because it confuses my feelings even more. I’m actually very upset, but it’s very difficult to explain to anyone that I’m upset because this girl that I only really knew through her LiveJournal died. And it’s not like I read it every day, but periodically I would always go back to see what she was up to and how her treatment was going. She’s been a recurring theme in my life that probably no one was aware of because I didn’t mention her much. So it’s probably hard for my friends and family to understand why this would upset me so much.
I think I feel terrible because she was someone I was really rooting for. I was rooting for her in the beginning, that she would be happy in New Zealand, and prove that you can make things work. And then I was rooting for her throughout her treatment. But to be honest, I wasn’t really all that *worried* about her, because I just always thought she’d make it. I guess I watch too many movies, where the person who’s willing to fight always wins in the end. But the truth is life is harsh and doesn’t make sense, the good guy doesn’t usually win, and God isn’t necessarily going to step in when we need him.
All I can see in my head is this picture of her with a huge smile on her face, just looking like someone who loves life. I know so many people who don’t love life (myself included sometimes), so to find someone who genuinely does is always so inspiring to me, and makes it seem all the more unfair. And to think that a few weeks ago, she was standing there with a huge grin on her face, ready to face any challenges and beat them. And now she’s gone. Just slipped away, cruelly. I really can barely get it through my head.
I was reading through her journal last night, through all the entries about her treatment. There are all these entries about their plans for the future, how they were moving to a new house, and eventually they were considering going to Australia, and all sorts of other small plans she was excited about. And there’s this one from March of ‘08, after her cancer was almost in remission, and it just broke my heart:
“I’m very grateful that my cancer has an end. I’m very aware that many people aren’t as lucky as I am. They make the best of years in treatment, or are worried by thoughts of reoccurrence for years afterwards. Although there is always a chance that my cancer will come back (a high 50% chance if I believed in statistics) I do believe that this is it for me. I believe I am cured, I have cheated death as someone said today……..But I am glad that it is nearly over. 2 more days. I try to stay in the present, but can’t help but think about the future. And it looks really bright.”
To think that less than a year later she would be gone is so heartbreaking. For her personally, I feel so sad. I feel so sad for the people who were close to her, who must be inconsolable to lose such a wonderful person with so much potential. And for myself, to lose such a role model. And symbolically, it just feels like if someone like her can’t make it, what chance do the rest of us have?
sad
I found out from Casey today that Melanie passed away. I am in such shock right now.
Melanie used to work at Urban a few years back, and I knew her a bit. She was always very sweet but I didn’t work directly with her, so I never got to know her very well. She wound up leaving Urban and moving to New Zealand with her then fiance. That was so incredible to me, to be so brave that you could pick up and move to the other side of the world, away from all of your family and friends. I was so impressed that I began to read her LiveJournal, and realized what a wonderful person she was. She got married, started up a computer repair company with her husband, and just seemed so positive and happy. To me that was the ultimate inspiration, someone who had an idea that they wanted to move somewhere and change their life, and just did it. And succeeded! And then she was diagnosed with Leukemia. And she was *still* so positive. She wrote so normally about these things that would terrify me. But she was always focused on the next step, whatever she needed to do seemed just fine. And through the ups and downs of her illness, it seemed that every time she was feeling better, she was out on some sort of adventure with amazing pictures to show. Not the standard hiding in your house waiting to die, which is what I’d probably be doing.
After going into remission, the cancer returned a few months ago, and she was going through treatment. She always seemed so ready, willing and able that I think it never really occurred to me that she might actually die. In her final post from the end of January, there’s a picture of her standing with her mom looking so happy, and she’s writing about how she’d lost weight and needs to get back into shape. And then today I found out she’s gone.
I called Casey, who was very close with her, and talked for a few minutes. We talked about how it’s really not fair, that she was such a fit, healthy, and positive person, that things like this shouldn’t happen to people like her. We both agreed that some of the things we were saying sounded like they’re straight out of a movie, but that’s really how it feels. She was just one of those people who you’d never forget. I mean, I barely even knew her and she’s had a big effect on my life. When I’m trying to be courageous or buck myself up, I literally always picture her, and ask myself what would Melanie do? And now she’s gone, and I think about her husband Brian, and her family, and wonder how they go on from here. How do you get over your amazing and beautiful wife dying at 26 years old?
I just don’t know. This world just doesn’t make any sense to me sometimes.
this american discomfort
As much as I love This American Life, I sometimes wonder how many lives that show has singlehandedly ruined. There seem to be so many episodes where the interviewers just insist on dredging up the most unpleasant of histories, especially among family members with some sort of deep dark secret or sensitive issue. Case in point. And they ask these hard-hitting questions that make the person examine their existence, like they’re Barbara Walters trying to make the subject cry. All of this is backed by incredibly melancholy music consisting entirely of sparse minor chords, which of course makes *me* want to cry. And they make everyone spill their guts, and confront family members about unpleasant things that happened in the past, and open up tons of old wounds. And then suddenly the crew leaves, and the microphones are gone, and you’re just left with the open wounds to mend. Everyone’s life was perfectly fine, and Public Radio International just *had* to come in and fuck it up. Like when my dentist comes in and drills my tooth and then says, “Ok, the hygienist will be back in a few minutes to put you back together,” and then I just sit there in the chair, all alone and exposed and trying desperately not to touch the huge hole with my tongue. Ok, so maybe that’s my particular personal issue, but you get the idea.
I really sympathize with these people, because my family is the same way. There’s all this icky deep-seeded psychological stuff going on, but bringing it up would either be disastrous or just downright sad. And somehow I just don’t think that bringing it all up via a nationally syndicated radio show would soften the blow. I’m sure it’s all well and good when you have a bunch of strangers around as a buffer, but once they’re gone and there’s no longer any reason to be polite, I’m sure scariness would ensue.
I don’t know, sometimes I just think “the truth” is not necessarily the answer. Sometimes it’s best just to leave well enough alone and try to get on with your life. Especially when you’re dealing with older people. Elderly people make me so sad – their life is coming to a close, they’re dealing with probably the most scary experience a person can have, so the last thing I want to do is make them reflect on all of the bad things they’ve done in their life. It’s a very slippery slope to bring up a painful past. I know that the desired effect is to go down into the trench of misery in the hopes of coming back up on the other side a happier group of people. But what if you never quite make it? What if all you accomplish is going down into the trench and getting stuck there? Before you at least might have had a civil relationship, you might have been able to just hold it together. But now all hell has broken loose and you don’t know how to put the pieces back together.
So thanks, but no thanks, Ira. I’ll stick with my quiet resentment and civil relationships. But don’t worry, I still think you’re the dreamiest 50-year-old I know.
warm on
I just had a startling revelation. The lyric to “Subterranean Homesick Blues” that this website gets its name from is actually “get born, keep warm” not “get born, keep on.” How humiliating. But really, does it matter? It could honestly be either, and I’m not sure that I trust Bob Dylan actually remembers what he meant to say back then.
So do I change the title tagline or not?
leave a comment