Myst Vanity

On the way to work today I drove behind someone from Rhode Island (at my own peril). They had a vanity plate that said “RIVENT”.

My mind immediately jumps to “Man, that person must really like Myst to have a plate that says Riven on it.”

Then my geek morning addled mind realizes that this person probably thinks that Myst is a misspelling of the stuff that perpetually hangs around Providence, also known as fog.

Then begs to question what this license plate actually was being so vain about. RIVENT… like a Rhode Island vent? Or maybe Rhode Island event?

I’m glad I have this commute every morning to contemplate what is most important in life.

Falling, Failing, and Flailing in a Stream of Conciousness Emptying Into the River of Time

The same things that make many shades of gray also say that failure isn’t an end, it’s a temporary setback, or even better, a new beginning.

You can do it all again. You’ve proven you can go so far, take the risks, push the barriers, and for a second, maybe you even poked through. Take from and value the experience, no matter how bad at the time, the best you can. Let it hit you, let it pass through you, move beyond it.

As we grow up we think of the far off distances that come to us sooner than one would think possible. Hopefully we grow not only in age, but we learn to have minds of our own, how to come to conclusions on our own based not only on outside sources, but our own unique inner voice. Hopefully we find a voice to speak it with. Maybe that voice reaches someone and changes someone’s world for the better.

We have to remember to keep taking, singing, and expressing as you grow without self censorship for both yourself and others. Learn to love yourself. Continue listening to those other voices. Allow them to become clearer as you can discern more subtleties as time goes on. The trained ear hopefully still can learn to hear something new and never cease being inspired.

Know that you turned out fine. No one is one hundred percent, so it’s nonexistent and a non issue. We’ve all been screwed, screwed up ourselves, even other people, and still we somehow survive. Because we survive, we can seek more than to just be the base line. Give living a purpose.

It scares me when definitions become too loose or too solid. The balance of chaos, change, and chance balances precariously with the safe foundation of stability. We look for the right choice knowing there is none. We search for salvation when we just want to be okay and unattainably perfect.

We teach ourselves to be above average with the risk of failing and flailing as often as floating. We want a community to belong to while fostering our uniqueness and independence. Do what you can with what you have time and time again and do your best to stay above the current in the river of time.

We live in a time with virtual community, more and more variation and possibility, as well as pitfalls. For every opportunity to focus there is a easier way to fall. Bounce back. Bounce back. It’s never too late, but never use that as an excuse to put it off forever.

At least part of this has the right idea, and that’s enough to feel some pride that pushes me to keep moving.

Crushing Lesson


On one of my last posts: No, I’m Still Not Dating Anyone, Thanks For Asking, one of my readership said in the comments: “…you attract people to you that will teach you lessons.”

I like this idea. It’s optimistic. It’s saying that all of the bad relationships, as much as I feel like they broke me down, were maybe really allowing me to build myself back up into something stronger.

The opposite is probably also true: that we are drawn to people that have something to teach us. What is it that draws you to a person and why? Those answers might be more important than ever pursuing an actual relationship. I’d like to think there is some actual purpose to crush.

Crushes fade in as you meet someone and fade out often as you get to know a person. I’m sure some of these things that make up the small obsessions we call crushes are just intangible whims, shallow attraction, or simply pheromones, but some of them probably have a great deal to tell us about ourselves. Even shallow attraction teaches us something the moment it goes from attraction to repulsion.

Crushes are terrible and wonderful in some very different ways than an actual relationship. They are these weird partially imagined relationships we carry out mostly in our minds, imagined moments, made up memories, and why, why not, and what if? Those are fine and good to an extent, but I can become concerned at the barriers they put up, real and imagined. There’s a line I can cross when I start to get to know and like someone. Interaction suddenly goes from easy conversation and laughter to strained, worried, calculated longing. It swings back and forth like a pendulum that I’m trying to stop somehow even though I’m on top of it.

I wonder if I ruin the potential relationships and friendships sometimes in the actions of a crush. I know I’m not the only one who becomes dumber, flakier, less confident, and not so good with words all the sudden. I wish I could get over the crush so I could get on with a friendship, get to know a person better, and move on if there is nothing really there (which there likely isn’t anyways). It’s easier said than done.

This post’s screen shot is brought to you by Final Fantasy VI, Game Boy Advanced version. My name twin is being hit on by Setzer after being kidnapped and thrown into a room on his airship. What a romantic!

Self Improvement’s Guise

If you’ve been reading this blog, chances are that you know I’m all about self improvement. I’d like to take a moment to make what I think is an important distinction, which I don’t think is always clear.

By being an advocate of self-improvement, I’m not saying that the Celes of yesterday was so flawed that a new me is needed. There seems to be the theme among people who are into self improvement that you need to hate yourself to want to be better. I don’t think improvement works well this way, nor do I think that improvement is about being better each day, every day.

I try to improve myself and my life, but I do so with knowing I will never reach level 1000. Life if not like some games where you’re gaining all these experience points and leveling up and leveling up until you’re at level 1000+ by the time I’m seventy-eight years old. As much as I wish it were, life just isn’t like that, my friends. Everyone whose self improvement is a linear picture of reaching perfection will be sadly disappointed in the end.

We as people, and life itself, go in cycles. You can’t always be happy or healthy. The best you can do is try to extend the times you are and minimize the times you aren’t. If anything, learning to deal with the times when things are bad in the best way possible is self improvement. To try to reach a state where you never trip, never falter, and never stray from the best of the best is not only an impossible goal, it’s a step backwards. To improve you first have to realize that you’re not horrible the way you are now, you’re never going to suddenly morph into that butterfly or swan or whatever, and you’re going to make terrible mistakes and have horrible things happen to you on your journey.

You are you, with your own faults and particular qualities. To pledge to make slight changes is one thing, but to act like some day a Honda Civic is going to become a Hummer is delusional and sad (about as sad as that metaphor).

Today is as important as tomorrow, and as much as you should be working towards something, you need to realize, accept, and live in the moment of who you are today as well. Do it because there may not be tomorrow. Do it because to really improve you have to love and accept who you are now. Do it because tomorrow, whether or not you like it, you will still be you no matter what you tell yourself. Do it because even if right now sucks, it is part of you and your story, and only you can do something with it that makes it worth having happened.

I know some things about myself, others I’m sure I’m still learning. By knowing I am a certain way, I can embrace and express that in ways that I am increasingly more comfortable with. Faults are not always faults, and finer qualities not always so fine. To focus on ‘changing the bad things about yourself’ is to place a black and white value on a part of who you are and either try to cut it out or replace it like some kind of Frankenstein graft. To see both sides to a coin is to admit the world is flat on only has two sides. Consider the many sides to the tetrahedron, or other polyhedrons that are the building blocks of life, and try to find how each piece can fit together.

I try to be realistic. Combine slight tweaks with strategies and meet yourself somewhere in the middle before you fall off the edge. If you hate who you are now and set an impossible goal for tomorrow, you will fail in the worst way. Don’t kid yourself into thinking you’re not who you were, because you will always be some version of yourself. Accept it as everything you were has made you today, and will make you every day after until the end of this life. All things shape us, the best we can do is try to take some control over how they do and accept the things we cannot so we can move past them.

Acceptance is the biggest piece to the puzzle I think most people miss. You have to accept yourself, your life, and the general way of life, that it is not a perfect pearl or even an oyster, before you can move on.

And move on to what? What do you really want? Figuring is as much part of the journey and figuring out how to get it.

I want to be better than yesterday may seem like a the daily goal to strive for, but in the long term it makes little sense as it is a generalization, a judgment on the unquantifiable, and an impossibility.

More than self improvement, I think of this as learning to live by living. This involves thinking and introspection as much as it involves getting out there, taking chances, and doing.

Ring Around the Relationship

Some people I know recently got engaged. Seriously, I’m happy for them. I like them both separately, and I like them together, which is rare enough.

Last weekend I learned all the details: the purchasing of the ring, the hiding of the ring, the nightmares and yearning for the ring, and yes, even the hunt for the ring. Apparently, waiting for such a thing is tortuous for women who care about that sort of thing. The gals gathered round looking at the ring and sympathizing with the torture of waiting, knowing the ring was somewhere in the house. I had a hard time pretending I ‘got it’. Having nightmares, wondering if he really cared or if it would ever happen seemed silly, even to a sometimes emotionally fragile woman like myself.

The guy stood by, trying not to be too unsympathetic, but you could tell was inwardly sighing. It gave me cause to be forthcoming.

“Look, maybe this is because I’m not very girly, but I don’t get why it was such torture. You know he bought it- you picked it out. You guys have been living with each other for how long? I mean, you know he cares. It’s just a material possession, it’s about what it symbolizes and what you already have.”

I got a “thank you” from the guy and a “you don’t get it” vibe from the gals. And maybe I don’t. It’s not to say I get men much either.

I had nightmares of my own that night, and not about rings. The whole subject threw something nasty into my subconcious maybe, or it’s just time for me to have nightmares again. I stopped giving serious cerdence to any theories concerning why I dream the way I do long ago. But, yes, some of the nightmares have been about my own past relationships.

The work week progressed and I found myself talking with someone who hadn’t heard of the engagement. It brought up the subject of people we know who are in or out of relationships. Some of the most awesome guys I know right are single, after all, and that’s sort of weird to me. We’re both single and I explained my own recent history and he his, though he gave no explanation circumstances of the last breakup- awhile ago. I didn’t want to press him either. At our age, it seems many of us have our own scars and reasons to be wary of letting people that close. I have my share, and though I’m not shy to share, you never know how fresh it might actually still be for some people.

I also know some of us don’t bear the same scars. This guy of this recently engaged couple admits this has been his first long term relationship ever.

Most people I know are well beyond that. I spoke to a long time friend on the subject of how we’d become so jaded. It used to be easy belief and naivety, and now it’s a blunt, “What’s this guy’s motivation?”. She is standing at a crossroads right now wondering whether to go down the path of possibly pursuing a perhaps impossible relationship with a guy in another country. She is having a hard time dealing with the logical worries that accompany that, and yet how jaded can we be if she is finding herself meandering down that path despite the odds?

I guess we have to try. We live to live.

I wondered why the guy in the engaged couple wasn’t so forthcoming with announcing his engagement. It seemed word had finally finished spreading today, and suddenly I understand with the barrage of shit he was given by guys he knows. All the guy questions on top of the shit given were as silly as the women’s discussion. A lot of guys at our age apparently don’t know how the modern U.S. Judeo-Christian tradition of engagement and marriage works. It was pretty amusing listening to said engaged friend try to field these questions and comments.

“So, where’s your ring?”
“What? The woman eventually gets two rings!?”
“Do you get two rings too?”
“Do they wear both rings? Or do they stop wearing the engagement one after marrying. That seems a waste if they do.”
“Which is more expensive, the wedding one or the engagement one?”
“So, wait, there’s two rings?”
“Do they wear them both on the same hand?”
“So, how long do you have until you have to get married now?”
“How can you get engaged without knowing when you’re getting married? Aren’t you supposed to know that beforehand?”
“Well, I guess ring buying is better than dowry.”
“Wait, doesn’t the woman’s dad give dowry to the man’s dad?”
“I think it’s different in different cultures?”
“How do you know which ring to get?”
“If she helped pick it out, what’s the point of proposing and giving the ring?”
“Yeah, why did she want it so bad?”
“So… wait, there are two rings?”
“Dude, where’s your ring? Why don’t you wear one yet?”
“Isn’t that something, a woman gets two rings? And they want equal rights too, but keep the perks.”
“So, who gets to keep the ring if you- I mean some other couple, not you- were to split up?”
“Dude, it better be the guy. That’s not fair.”

So, meanwhile, both the women and the men obsess about the ring. I am left to wonder about relationships, people, circumstances, trust, and chance. I have nightmares about past attempts and try not to obsess too much about the strength and fragility of our connections to those around us. Even so, it’s a subject I think about a lot, and I’m afraid it guides me too often when think of those around me, the chances, and the circumstances.

I guess we’re here to try. We’re here to live.

Stranger than Fiction

This morning, on my way to do ‘the mail run’ before work, I almost hit a bird in the road. The thing that was odd about this was not that it was an animal in the wrong place at the wrong time, or that it was me in the wrong place at the wrong time.

The weird thing was the location: East Hartford Ave. Uxbridge, MA

Matched with the type of bird: peacock.

I knew it was the beginning to another odd day. I knew this not because I am a reader of omens and portents. I knew this because life has become an interesting and unexpected thing.

By now I should expect the unexpected. I have a job where just when you think there is some sort of routine, something new and different that you’ve never seen comes across your plate and stares at you with beady little eyes. Add this to the rest of my life. I have weird, vivid, often horrifying dreams. Coincidences and dejavu are constant. Is it more strange to feel like whats happening has happened before, or that both Ezra and I met after not seeing each other since February (and years before that meeting) both wearing Metallica shirts and admitting we weren’t ‘really big Metallica fans or anything’.

I wonder about writing fiction sometimes and the length people go to make it seem realistic. With the odd occurrences that happen on a day to day it occurs to me that we wouldn’t know what realism was anyways. Reality often feels surreal, and truth really is stranger than fiction.

Last night I dreamt about telling someone at work that I just had a dream about them, since in the dream I dreamt having that dream.

I also dreamt I was a super-long pole arm bearer for some feudal post-apocalyptic oriental army. I was captured by the enemy feudal lord when he tricked me into thinking I was close to defeating him. It was simply a ruse to get me away from the rest of the army and capture me. When I tried to escape, no matter how far and fast I went, there was a large-as-a-house warrior waiting to bring me back to my prison. There was nothing to do at this prison but sleep and play strange card games I was bad at.

I can only spend so much time on the epic stores my subconscious undertakes. Life is constantly weaving a strange tale of its own. Instead, I spend my time dodging peacocks.