paralyzed brain

Nick was here from Wednesday to today (Monday) - it was such a great time. I don't have time to go into all the greatness it was- but it was fantastic, in every way. Now though, I'm back to reality- I have to pump out a 20 pg. rough draft that was understandably irresponsibly neglected but I feel that I can not. I want to sleep, I want to hide, I want to watch a movie, I want to do anything that makes it so I am not reminded that he is not here anymore. I know I will see him in a month but that is not soon enough. Any day away from him is too many. My brain cycles through missing him to trying to focus to trying to focus to missing him to trying to focus...etc. If I think about him I cry- I've never had this experience before except once last year after he left. The absence of his presence is choking me- suffocating my brain and my emotions. I don't want to do anything, I just want to lay here and not feel. I have to write this paper so I guess I should consider it a lucky distraction- though it seems looming and impossible- though- I've written 20 pagers overnight before so I know its doable esp. since it is just a rough. I feel empty and alone. I feel like a shell. My eyes are constantly welling up and deep aching effects my stomach. The one solace I have in this is that at least there is no need to ever question my feelings for him, this is the kind of devastating love of movies and stories and songs- I am a bit pathetic, though voluntarily so. Back to my paper.

Sunday Sick

Spontaneously yesterday I got a sore throat- All had been great, happy, and relatively productive. Then out of literally nowhere the bacteria defeated my immune system. I don't know how long the battle had been raging, but apparently my immune system could not fend off the invasion any longer. So, what was supposed to be the MOST productive weekend ever has turned into a sickly-slobby festival of yuck.

It is freezing outside so I can't very well open the windows and let the fresh breeze in, so I have stale sick/ sleep breath lingering in my little box of an apartment mixing with the remnants of food smells. My skin is under the misconception that pimples are the next great thing- everytime I go to brush my teeth or wash my hands there is a new crop of them. I didn't know harvest time applied to faces. The gloriously golden tan I had in August has faded and with it so did my sun bleached translucent hair- they have been replaced with pasty-white and dirty blonde roots, gross. To add insult to beauty injury I am no luxuriously lounging in my extravagant Banana Republic lounge wear- I am curled up in a mass of blah wearing an ill-fitting light grey t-shirt and black pj pants that I just realized have a hole in them. By the way- next to cream, light grey is the least attractive color I can wear.

I had all these dreams for this weekend: deep cleaning, organizing, studying, researching - and now- here I am blogging about my pathetic state and dreaming for a little bit of awesome in my life.

Maybe I should create my own awesome. Maybe I can still pull it out- first I would definitely need a shower since I'm starting to offend myself with my own odor- second I would need some good music and would need to get over my own sickness- I need a repeatable mantra such as: sick does not win, I win- sick does not win, I win- and repeat. Next I would open the windows- I just can't take the stale stench in the air- 3 pm is not too late to get a good start on the day- right? I mean- if I work, doing things from 3-12 that is nine hours- a lot can get done in nine hours- for example you could drive from OKC to Denver in 9 hours- or you could clean your apartment and do hardcore research on how to incorporate sustainable development into times of conflict, to top it all off with some Environmental Law- it could be fantastic, right?

Or I could just not- and I can relax and rest and read some here and there and maybe take my second nap of the day and just admit that even my "will/spirit" has been defeated by these ravaging radicals of sickness running rampant through my body-

I want my apartment to be clean and lovely - I want to feel clean and lovely as well- I know those things will not happen if i don't do something, but I'm so tired- coffee sounds gross but maybe some tea would be nice- but I'm so worn out just from writing this- geez. I have no conclusions as to whether I'm going to pull it together or not- I'm just...bleh.

Finding A Place

First, apologies for the meandering nature of this post it reflects the status of my thoughts on the subject matter-

For those that don't know- Man = Nick. I'm tired of using "man" I'm not as clever or consistent as I Married the Pastor is, and I really don't think Nick cares anyway, so I'm just going to stick with names.

Nick and I were talking last night about how our lives have come to be as they are now. We looked at the high and low points and acknowledged, that without certain things we would not be together. It seems like a simple recognition but I find that all too often we spend time saying things like, "I wish you never had to go through X or Y," or "I wish bla bla bla." I now realize that is not a correct way of thinking. What's strange is that I have known that for a while.

Sometime around my freshman/sophomore yrs in college I became quite disenchanted with the idea of "free will." As in, I don't think we have free will. Determinism has its flaws, but I think an unanalyzed assumption that people have free will is more flawed. So in the least I will say: I'm not convinced people have free will. I think cause and effect is far more explanatory of happenings than free will, so why do I need to relearn that the past must have happened to be where we are today?

One theory- Loving someone causes you to see things, wish things, do things, and hope for things you otherwise may not have. So, loving someone who has been through intense trials and hardships causes someone who normally looks at trials as life lessons to deeply wish those things had simply never happened.

So I guess what was illuminating and peaceful about my elementary thought process last night is that instead of spending time wishing bad things had not happened to Nick, I can now look at who Nick is and appreciate how by going through those events Nick has become the man that I know him to be, the man that I love, the man that is perfect for me. Had he not had the travails of his past maybe he would not be as strong, as stubborn, as self-assured, and passionate, as easy-going at times too, as wise, as thrifty yet not too, as appreciative of me and who we are together, as well-rounded, as driven, as powerful, as sensitive, as communicative, as excited about the future we can have together- as....anything really. I hate for him that he had to go through some of those things, but I love who he is, I love who he has become out of those things.

In regretting or loathing the past we risk not learning from it, not looking at the consequences of it. If I spend all my time regretting things I've done or lamenting the kind of person I was when I did those things, I miss the opportunities that exist in who I am now. There is a role for reflection but maybe that gets overemphasized. Maybe the lessons are more clear than we think and really we're spending most of our time agonizing about what we did than really processing what it meant, b/c really, we know what it meant but we feel guilty so we keep thinking and thinking and going over and over and over again what happened -

So- enough of that. As of last night I officially moved on - I moved on from the past. I am here now where I am because of where I came from- I know what those things mean, for good and bad. I am officially ready to be happy. I am officially ready to go forward in my life. I am officially ready to go forward in my life with Nick as well.

This is not to say that I haven't been moving forward all along, but to create a picture...I think I've been walking forward while dragging large bags full of my crap with me, but not just my crap, Nick's crap, my friend's crap, my family's crap and at time the crap of the world too. I think our generation loves being tortured. I think our generation feels an obligation to be tortured. As someone reminded me yesterday; our generation of Americans has experienced the longest period of prosperity known in this country- for those of us that know and have known this, I think we live in a shroud of guilt. We know others do not live this life, we know we have it better than most, and we feel the weight of an obligation to recognize this and do something in response. I think many of us respond my torturing ourselves.

I think we can live in a knowing recognition without needless suffering- or maybe the period of suffering which comes with acknowledgment can at some point appropriately end.

So this place to which I allude is one of peaceful acceptance of the past, a ceasing of self-torture, and a prepared, willing, ability to move forward.

THE MOST AWFUL THING I"VE EVER HEARD

Before I go into this, let me just say: I LOVE BOB DYLAN.

okay cue up the link and then read as you listen...

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gundu1yLjWY

First of all, this is the worst idea I've ever heard of- I HOPE TO THE HIGH HEAVENS this is a joke for some reason - i hope Bob and all his friends were sitting around making fun of Christmas albums and they got to laughing and thought..."oh geez..Bob..BOB...YOU SHOULD DO A CHRISTMAS ALBUM!!!" and then Bob says, "oh HELL no..you know I can't sing..." "Plus, I hate Christmas and all its commercialization..I'm not adding to that " then another friend says..."No..NO - that's the genius part...! You suck! ahaha..but people will buy it just b/c it is you" then they all laugh and then someone else says..."I dare you." then everyone goes silent and Bob says..."well...I never turn down a dare."

That is literally the only thing I can think of to justify the existence of something so atrocious. I mean...seriously, ask yourself...have you ever heard of anything so awful? Think back. I have one contender - Michael Rodgers once shared a version of Holy NIght with me where the person was intentionally singing poorly - I would say, this is still worse.

First...Bob sounds like that elf that wants to be a dentist from the Rudolph cartoon they show at christmas time- except he is 80 has emphysema and is drunk.

Second, what's with the half rate choir girls in the background? Why have them there, they aren't that great so it's not like they compensate for how awful he is, but they're just good enough to accentuate how terrible he is.

Third, there is something existentially wrong about someone who sang Maggie's Farm now singing Silver Bells.

Fourth, this does not give me visions of sugar plums dancing in my head as I wait for the tap of reindeer hooves on my roof, this gives me visions of homeless Vietnam Vets drunk yelling at me from the stoop of a nearby apartment.

Fifth, It is scary when he starts the fast Santa Clause song...

okay. I am going to keep this away from the children around Christmas time, I don't want to scar them.

But, I may start calling in to all the radio stations requesting these songs in the Bob Dylan version just to piss off holiday shoppers!