Status Update

Not changing Facebook status, which feels too stuffy and official. But I think that changing my dating site profile is appropriate about now.

objectively

This weekend I wrote two artist's statements
put together my CV
applied for a show
finished spinning Kenda's commission
did a little swing dancing
got drunk with Satanist Dan
had dinner with Kendra*
made a new friend


That really is something. Objectively, I have no reason to complain, do I? Must work on that not-complaining bit.



*not a typo, I know a Kendra and a Kenda. This is going to get me in trouble. I will get it wrong all the time. Like Alisa and Alyssa.

Dinner plans make statement writing fun

(Not that I wrote this during dinner, but that knowing I was going to have fun later made it easier to sit down and get something done.)

Midway

Nothing says fun like a midway. Everything comes in candy colors, bright, shining, blinking, glowing, popping, chirping, everyone wins! Even the carnies, dried and brown and tired, they push and prod shy teenagers towards each other like smoke-stained Cupids. Why don’t you win that pretty girl a rose? How can you help but smile? Laugh? Spin and shriek on the rides, get your hands and face sticky with funnel cake and giant hot dogs, win your girl a prize?

And yet, there are moments when a clearing opens up in the crowd, and for a minute I see a woman sitting on a child’s wagon, alone on empty pavement. Another moment later, and she is lost as the crowd fills the space again. That is what I am looking for: the moments when the spell is broken, and all the cotton candy and inflatable dolphins can’t stop her feet from aching, can’t keep the boredom from a child’s face as he waits for his dad to return, can’t cheer up a toddler as he screams on the carousel.

The people in these photos have stopped to wait, stopped to think, stopped to rest. In a way, they have left the midway. They stand still while it moves along without them. In the midst of the people and the rides and the games, they have found quiet.

(Of course, the one I have left to do is the one I need most to have done. Still, it's nice to know that there's only one left.)

Things they want

1. Cover letter - part done, not finished
2. CV - ready
3. Portfolio of work - ready
4. Portfolio of student work - need to go through a zillion CDs
5. Statement of teaching philosophy - see cover letter


Also need to finish:

6. Statements for State Fair & Natural History projects. (Both partly done.)
7. Grade assignment #3 (due Thursday!)

Today I worked on 1 and 2, so far. (Also wrote terrible, inadequate, "treatment" for radio essay.)

Three new posts in November, and it's not even noon yet

These melodramatic posts are actually making me feel a little optimistic. Because that's all they are. I'm done with them. They're only a record of what I needed to get out of my head. Once upon a time I would have stayed in those thoughts. In the time before that, I would have called SD, crying, to tell him those things. I would have sent bitter, passive-aggressive, messages.

I'm going to go to the gym. I'm going to get some work done. I'll probably be feeling a little down tonight, but not badly. I'll probably write it down. I'll get over it.

What I might say, if we ever talked about stuff like this

I am always excited to see you. I am always happy around you. If I stay over Sunday night, I glow for half the day on Monday. You are sweet, and fun, and crazy. Like everything else that makes me happy, I want to see you, hear from you, all the time. I am trying so hard to be good, to do this right. I don't want to scare you away. I know this isn't anything serious. I know you're just having fun. I mean, that was kind of the point. That was what I was looking for, I'm just not very good at it.

morning

I feel like the sorriest person in the entire world. I am sad and hurt and angry at myself. I'm awake at 7:20 am, after having spent an hour not believing that I was awake at 6:20 am. That's actually been going on for a few days now, I don't know why. I'm sure I'll be back in bed by 9 am, trying to fashion some semblance of a normal sleep pattern.

I know I am blowing this all out of proportion. It's totally not a big deal. And it's entirely my fault. I could have done things differently, or I could have responded reasonably to what I did do.

Sara did call, and she called at 10:30! Why didn't I hear it? My phone wakes me up even in another room, I should have heard it. I would have gone out. I would have run into Andrew and Dan. I wouldn't have minded that Dan didn't call. I wouldn't have turned into this stupid ball of self pity.

I never, ever, want to be that girl again. The girl who's sad and hurt and angry because her boyfriend went out and didn't call her, who starts imagining him picking up someone else for the night. The girl who feels like she has no friends because she spent a Saturday night home alone.

The thing is, it was a misunderstanding. And as I sit here, whining and complaining about being sad and stupid, the hurt is fading. A week ago I didn't care if my boyfriend saw other people, hell, a week ago he wasn't my boyfriend. I don't know if I really care now, or if I was just finding ways to make myself miserable.

I don't even know if I want to post this. Now that I've said it, it feels so much more distant. So ridiculous. Embarrassing. This isn't how I feel, this is some temporary glitch, like being awake at 6 am on a Sunday. Time to go back to bed, maybe start the day over again in a few hours.

Good night.

I'm feeling better already.