Sunday, February 13, 2005

Good Morning Vietnam!

Well, after a few dozen hours of restful sleep (interrupted only once, will explain later) and a few blissfull hours of book-reading this morning, I suppose I'm ready to spill my thoughts through this beautifully impersonal interface.

First off, sitting in front of my apartment this morning is a spanky new shiny black Honda Accord. I did not BUY this piece of machinery; in fact, I did not even want this piece of machinery sitting in front of my home. The keys were given to me yesterday afternoon by a very sweet but motive-ridden finance director at the Honda dealership out by where I work. Now, you'd think his only motives were to sell me the car. And after finding out how much my insurance was going to go up and how much my payments were going to go up, I realized that even though this vehicle is a shining example of what I should be buying i.e. multiple airbags, good gas mileage, good resale, good crash tests, etc, putting myself in the poor house and later having my car repossessed because I can't make the payments isn't going to be saving ANYONE's gas money or life. So selling me the car is out of the questions. And he is MORE than aware of this. No, he wanted me to take the car not only because he knows it's a good sales tactic but because he told me, point-blank, he wants to see me again. Gave me his cell phone number, told me he'd give me GAP coverage and an extended warranty for free if I bought the car, asked me to go to WestEnd with him later, showed me pictures of his daughter (I'm assuming that was to sprout some sort of latent maternal instinct into full-on suffocating coos and giggles), told me I was "hot," told me he liked my skirt (my mothers giant skirt from 1987, so I know that's a lie), told me he knew I probably wasn't going to buy the car but to take it anyway so he'd have a reason to see me on Monday...... the list goes on.
I have, by now, learned to keep my rising panic away from the watchful eyes of the randoms who hit on me. Though I probably would have lost it if he'd pulled one of those casual pats-on-the-back moves, so tense do I get in these situations. So I have a situation to look forward to on Monday when I go to return the car. And yes, I am fully aware that this is my fault. I am a spineless freak of nature when it comes to these things. Because, while I can make all manner of acid remarks to the true freaks of the world, I cannot deliberately hurt the feelings of a seemingly normal individual. Albeit one who may be a tad overzealous... but seemingly normal nonetheless.
After the car fiasco I found myself grazing on Saltines, sipping on coffee and spacing out in front of the mindless reality shows that can only hold my attention on a Saturday when seeing which celebrity can lose the most weight or which Surreal Life cast member is going to fuck a Brady can hold my attention for hours at a time. Later, I got a call from one of my friends, reminding me about a party I had probably made vague references to attending. Knowing, of course, that I will probably never grace one of these things but making the obligatory "Of course I'll be there" mumbles when an invitation was placed in my hand. So after some sublte coercion, I agreed that I would probably get dressed and go. Though there was the obvious problem that the party did not start until 11pm. And my friends won't going until 11:30. Way past my grandma bed-time. I agreed I would take a nap and then get up at 10:45, refreshed and wide-awake for the party. Also knowing (and assuming they did too) that the chance of me actually waking up after a nap taken so close to my actual bed-time were slim to none. So my phone started ringing at 11pm and didn't stop ringing until 11:15. I assume they were tag teaming my phone to increase their odds of getting me out of bed. This is completely useless as it only succeeds in pissing my sleep-induced self off. I wish I had never even told them I might go because it saves me the effort of rolling my eyes when I inevitably get the speech about staying home with my cats and not having a life and being a total heinous loser and then being hung-up on. I hate this about myself, but I will say 'yes' only to back out later so I can save myself the time spent arguing over why I SHOULD go somewhere and how there's bound to be just TONS of cute boys there, etc, etc. Truth is, I normally hate parties. Unless my small circle of friends are the majority of people there, I can barely contain my urge to bolt. Too may people, too many voices, too many thoughts swimming in a small space, too much drunkenness and fakeness and stupidness. I won't even talk to people of my same sex at parties because, in general, I don't meet girls with whom I have that much in common. Tolerate, sometimes. Enjoy, rarely. I normally gravitate towards talking with my same group of friends or making inane conversation with boys. Who are either trying to get in my pants or using me to get into my friend's pants. Sadly, I rarely notice this is happening until late in the game. I wish I could explain what it's like for me being at these kind of things... I hate knowing I'm that girl that sits there, frozen by the onslaught of music and thoughts and beer breath; knowing I'm the girl that has "that expression" on her face that scares off even the most well-meaning of folks. There are some days that are easier and I can relax and have fun and block out all the things that make me tense. There are other days when the thought of standing in a crowd makes my stomach clench, knowning I'll grip my watered down drink until my knuckles turn white, eventually finding a corner with my back to the wall (to prevent anyone from coming up behind me unannounced), watching the scene in front of me with detached horror and counting the minutes until I can leave without offending anyone or until my friends have found other friends to hang out with who I know will give them a ride home.
But enough randomness. I'm just melancholy and listless and restless all at once. Not unhappy, per se, just feeling slightly detached from the outside world.

Instead of continuing in the same vein, here is one of my top two favorite poems, who happen to both be written by the same author:

THE WAKING by Theordore Roethke

I wake to sleep, and take my waking slow.
I feel my fate in what I cannot fear.
I learn by going where I have to go.

We think by feeling. What is there to know?
I hear my being dance from ear to ear.
I wake to sleep, and take my waking slow.

Of those so close beside me, which are you?
Gold bless the Ground! I shall walk softly there,
And learn by going where I have to go.

Light takes the Tree; but who can tell us how?
The lowly worm climbs up a winding stair;
I wake to sleep, and take my waking slow.

Great Nature has another thing to do
To you and me; so take the lively air,
And, lovely, learn by going where to go.

This shaking keeps me steady. I should know.
What falls away is always. And is near.
I wake to sleep, and take my waking slow.
I learn by going where I have to go.

peace out.

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