If your cat decides to climb onto your lap while you’re mindlessly munching on graham crackers, it’s a good idea to drape the cat in some sort of protective covering so that you don’t spend the rest of the evening picking crumbs out of his fur.
(Decent posts coming soon! Hopefully!)
I’ve had a metric crap-ton of stuff swimming around in my head lately, and I compose lovely little essay passages as I commute to and from work, but I cannot get this stuff down on paper. It’s not a case of writer’s block. Especially not after one of my creative writing instructors asserted that writer’s block doesn’t exist. Yes, let’s make the girl who already beats herself up over real and imaginary shortcomings berate herself for not psychologically functioning enough to tap a few lines of prose out on her computer. But I also sort of agree. I don’t have writer’s block, or even writer’s clog.
I’m just distracted.
So. It wasn’t a particularly exciting weekend, once I got back to Oregon. I considered writing a post about my Friday flights (too eventful!), or the flu I caught while on my business trip (too miserable!), or my reunion with Frank (too cat-lady-like!), or the activities I missed out on this weekend because of said flu (soccer game! snowshoeing! enjoying the nice weather, period!), or the ridiculously enormous glob of ick that emerged from my sinus after using the neti pot this morning (too disgusting!)…but you’ve lucked out.
I have grand plans to keep a little garden on my balcony, and I think I found a pretty good resource to start with. There are a couple of community gardens in my neighborhood that I hope to take part in so I can grow some bigger veggies, but I’d like to get started with some other plants soon. I read that spring is going to come early, due to the mild winter, and I’d rather not dread the onslaught of brand new allergies. Instead, I’ll look forward to experimenting with horticulture, and documenting my progress here.
(Much better than 365 days of navel-gazing.)
I’m at the Columbus airport yet again, waiting for my flight back to Oregon. There’s supposed to be a little snowstorm tonight, which I am sad to be missing. My heart still belongs to the Midwest, for sure. Why else would I be considering Minneapolis for my next move? (No worries – I don’t intend to move again for at least a few years.)
Earlier this week when I was on my way to pick up my friend Jennifer, there was a moment that made my heart hurt. She lives across the street from my old place, and as I pulled onto High St. from Como right by my favorite Columbus restaurant, I looked down the street, all lit up in the darkness, and my body throbbed, “Home.” I miss that crappy-looking little stretch of Clintonville, because it was home. Those were my places to eat at, shop at, walk to, run by. That was the comforting backdrop to some of the hardest years of my life. I haven’t settled in in Oregon yet, and too often I feel like I’m lost and flailing. I never allow myself to settle in anywhere – even at “home” in Clintonville – because I never believe that anything is going to last. Technically, nothing is permanent (shout out to Buddha!), but perhaps the chaos and unpredictability and conditional nature of so much of what I grew up with has colored my ability to truly feel at home anywhere.
P.S. Many thanks to Ashley for giving me the closest thing I’ve had to home in years.
Even though my laptop shows that it’s connected to the Internet, it refuses to acknowledge that Internet connection. It’s okay though, because I can communicate with my coworkers and outside customers via my work Blackberry…except that my Blackberry decided to launch itself into a 2-hour update during which I cannot make or receive calls or access my e-mail.
Maybe I should’ve woken up as if I were on east coast time. At least then I could’ve been troubleshooting this stuff while everyone on the west coast was still asleep.
But – hooray for my iPhone! Still open for business!
I leave for my first business trip early tomorrow morning. Luckily, I’m headed to Columbus! I’m trying to be somewhat stealthy so that my family doesn’t demand a visit and so that I don’t end up having to wrangle my emotions around them. They’re back to pretending nothing ever happened – not over a decade ago, not last year, and not at Christmas. I don’t think they realize how hurtful that is. So even though I’m just visiting with friends during the non-business part of the trip, I’m more anxious than I realized. And I had to take my little snugglebunny Frank to the vet/boarders this evening and oh, how he and I cried! Lying in bed now, I miss him terribly. All evening I’ve kept thinking I hear his little footsteps on the carpet. It’s been a while since I’ve had such a strong attachment to someone (not counting my therapists – ha!). I can’t imagine feeling that way about someone else now, unless it was my child. I sense a satisfying psychological hairball in all of this. Good thing I have a sweet kitty to benefit from my raging maternal instinct!