Homesick

Coming back to TLoTH after winter break is a pinch to the left of unbearable. It does not cover it to say “I had a good time” or “I enjoyed seeing my friends.” It was more the pain of hearing someone say “Welcome Home” at shul the night before I left. I don’t even know how long it’s been since I’ve written, I didn’t need to. Writing is a hobby of pain and instability. Editing is a hobby for sober, normal people. Maybe I’ll edit things one day.

Random poll, actually. If I turned the story of the past year into a book using material from my blog, but more…cohesive, would buy it?

I’ve been thinking a lot about publishing. If I do anything like a New Year’s resolution, it’s more like a mix of intention setting and goal making. My dream possibility for the year is to publish 4 times.

Publication 1: Turn my work at TLoTH into a paper for a peer-reviewed journal. Embrace the expertise and knowledge of my mentors and glean experience where they care. Even if I don’t have anything interesting to say, I will go through the process of putting together a manuscript and figuring out where to submit it.

Publication 2: Publish my thesis. I will have to draft the manuscript on my own but hopefully my inevitable return to the Sunny State will give me proximity to the professors I worked with at Big American U. I realize I can publish my work without them, but I’m not sure I want to burn the bridge with quite that many fireworks.

Publication 3: Already in editing stages. It’s a museum display I researched, wrote and designed for my department at BAU. It needs to be readable to the public but also accurate. Proximity, again, can help me push it into a printed reality. Once it’s up, I plan on entering it in a competition for museum labels. Because why the fuck not?

Publication 4: Turn blog into book. This is the most challenging and possibly the least relevant to my career. I do not deceive myself and think that I can put together and publish a book in year. However, I can commit to spend 5 hours a week (at least) to working on it. I need to research how the industry works, how to reach my target audience (women in undergrad STEM programs? Millenials interested in what actually happens when you land a “relevant” job that requires relocation? Ex’s interested in what’s become of my life?-OK, that one’s not enough of a pool to break even on material so…meh). If it becomes possible to up the allotted time to 20 hours a week, I’d totally be up for that.

My intention for my return to the Key Route City was originally to work part time and use the rest of my productive time researching relevant grad programs. I plan to take a GRE prep course because even looking at the prep book makes me nearly shut down with anxiety.  I can’t do grad school alone. I can’t be so alone with my depression and expect to move forward. I need to be home.

However, this optimistic and selfish plan may not work out. It kinda hinged on PartnerPenguin being BreadWinner#1 for a bit. Unfortunamently, the company PartnerPenguin’s been working for laid him off the Monday before Christmas. He doesn’t seem to be taking it very personally but I guess it’s harder for me to be super chill about it. He’s good at saving (I’m not) so we’ll be all right for a while. We’re still going to Europe after my term at TLoTH. I’m just going to be broke and he’ll be coasting. We’ll return stateside with both of us unemployed, so that’s pretty non-ideal. So if I do write a book, I have to decide how it will help with my career or else abandon the fancy.

But honestly, 3 publications all geology in subject is a pretty fucking lofty goal to meet anyway.

My New Years approach to tending depression is as follows:

Before any interaction with a computer:

*Mindfulness/meditation for 2 minutes

*Read a book 5-10 pages

*Address physiological needs like eating and stretching.

If I start to feel anxious, especially if I find myself compulsively checking Facebook—MAKE SOMETHING! I’m trying to be less judgmental about finishing things (it’s happened once this past year) and just produce.

Here is my current book list, if you’re interested. Yes, I read all of them at once.

*Social Blunders by Tim Sandlin

*Every Time I Find theMeaning of Life, They Change It by Daniel Klein

*Cryptonomicon by Neal Stevenson

* “Breasts” by Stuart Dybak (Best American Short Stories 2004)

*Come As You Are by Emily Nagoski

In case I didn’t emphasize enough you NEED to read Come As You Are. Especially if you are a woman. Or have sex with women. Gay men would also probably appreciate the information. The thing I like/appreciate is that the author explains some of the ways I’m deeply messed up with words I understand in an order I haven’t heard before. It is deeply validating to read that I am not alone. That things I’ve just assumed were broken within me are actually normal human responses. This book, combined with Brene Brown’s have actually changed how I view myself. For the better.

Apropos to nothing, here is a ladle dinosaur drinking out of my glass.

 

My current approach to grief is re-watching movies I like. Maybe you, the reader, feel like my use of “grief” is melodramatic. Well, fuck you. It feels like I am re-experiencing all of my traumatic up-rootings again and re-losing all of the stability a “home” provides. My favorite descriptor of experiencing grief is simply: “Grief herds.”

Every time one person dies, you may remember others who have passed. I’ve lost my home too many times so intentionally leaving it (read: him) elsewhere makes me feel completely lost again.

Anyway. For many reasons, Across The Universe is one of my favorite movies. It’s got some of the best drug scenes that are interesting but not claw-your-face-off-horrifying. ::ahem, Pink Floyd’s The Wall movie, ahem:: Bono is a singing Timothy Leary and fucking Eddie Izzard is the KING of ALL DRUGS. But the movie also has one of he most powerful grief storylines that I can stomach presently. (Up obviously wins but is entirely too heavy hitting right now. Ditto for Big Hero 6.) If you haven’t seen the film, there is a scene where they overlay “Let It Be” with a riot. It lose it every time. And Pandora, of course, cues up “Let It Be” on my Simon & Garfunkel station. Also, I give mad props for that movie because for the most part they filmed the songs on set. Thanks Blockbuster, for repeating that tidbit every 20 minutes for 8 hour shifts. Stunning singing and really masculine ballet.

I spent all of my money on sushi, burritos, sushirritos, Ethiopian food I can’t pronounce, papusas, ramen, pancakes, burgers’n’shakes and boba tea. So now I’m broke but everything was completely worth it. Here is a moment of inspiration from another movie I’ve been re-re-watching:

And of course, your musical education continues with these two drastically different pieces. Have a great week!

Where People Love You the Most

Is there such a thing as a trauma treadmill? I’ve been reading about and experiencing the hedonic treadmill. If you’re not familiar: it’s when you acclimate to certain levels of comfort and that becomes your baseline, leaving you wanting more. Being a very poor college student for a very long time, my medium-well paying job has put me in a new level of treadmill. I feel a bit revolted but also a bit proud of myself that I bought a backpacking backpack. But I also feel like I’ve acclimated to certain levels of trauma, even within the past year, that I do not know how to unwind/recover from. I don’t think that these things are related. Just that maybe there is a similar mechanism.

I have been grappling with a lot since landing in the Sunny State. But for the first time in months, I have also been able to help others. Helping other friends, feeling like I am a worthwhile human being and feeling like my ideas matter have been making me feel like me again. It’s so painful. But it’s also so joyful.

On Friday I spent most of the day in the Oroenpaz City. There was a large conference that I couldn’t pay to attend but I hung out in the lobby anyway. No one seemed to give a fuck. I caught up with a bunch of people and felt grounded in that.

Among the people I hung out with was a friend named Dr. Bow. I call her this because she always wears a bow in her hair. She reads my blog (shoutout!) and so we delved immediately to the hearts of my issues with TLoTH. Dr. Bow then joined me as I met with my work colleagues to go to lunch. She observed something very astute:

“It’s really nice to let you be the ringleader. I mean, I love having my friends around me but it’s nice to turn that off and go on autopilot.” Dr. Bow and I have similar leadership personalities but instead of competing, we are able to just turn off the Ringleader role and be content when hanging out with the other woman’s “crew.” This possibility is actually extremely wonderful to savor because I know there are other women leaders who I can feel close with but not competitive.

Dr. Bow parted ways and I spent some time with my co-workers. This proved to be very problematic for me. Firstly the two peer-age co-workers hated the city. They pointed out things to hate about it that I would never have thought about let alone consider for any length of time. It felt like personal attacks because this city is one of my cities. My personality is developed from it and other cities like it. There seemed to be some acknowledgement but a dissonance about this linkage with me because the co-workers said things like “I see why you like it” or “It makes me think of you.” I don’t think they intended to, but they were saying more clearly than ever that I am different and they don’t like me because of my difference.

Second, one of my peers informed me that TLoTH offered her a permanent position. We are both in the same intern-ish-but-paid position but now they’ve offered her to stay. She said it in a skirting way, like she’d been hiding it from me for months but she knew I’d have to find out eventually. I felt a lot of envy that this permanent position was offered but also a lot of anger that she was so blatantly favored. She has been there longer and doesn’t ask too many questions like me. I appreciate, to some extent that she’d hid it and wasn’t bragging. But it made me feel worse that I don’t have a Long-Term Plan.

The third issue didn’t really actively happen while I was with the co-workers but rather after. It wasn’t very specific to a moment, but I had this persistent, gut-wrenching terror for the whole afternoon that what happened at TLoTH would happen again in Orodepaz City. I was panic-stricken and horrified that all my friends and loved ones would secretly turn out to hate me. And then sit me down and tell me.

I was afraid of this when I arrived at shul, probably one of the places I feel the most safe in the world. Fortunately, the clergy are sensitive to people who feel out of whack. They must teach “Identify Out-of-Whack Congregants” in clergy school. There is a new Rabbi who gave me some excellent advice about compassion. Then the Cantor arrived (I sang in the choir that night) and I admitted to her my fears. She seemed hurt, almost physically, to hear my pain. She gave me a hug and we sang songs and I eventually felt better.

I went to a late dinner with my Fourth-Cousin-Twice-Removed. We decided this was our relationship because neither of us understands what any of that means but both of us adopted the same person as our Saba (grandfather). He (the “cousin”) is a cool guy with silly hair that makes him look more emo than he is. Good times.

Saturday morning PartnerPenguin went with me to the Greyhound and sent me on my way to Porn Town. PartnerPenguin had planned to see his brother, Human, but those plans fell through. He took me to the bus all the same.

There are some interesting challenges about getting across the Sunny State. You can travel and maximize for cost, time or reliability. Pick two. I usually go for cost and time but this trip I went for cost and reliability. In reality, this means I spent 20 hours of the past 96 in transit. If I count 25 hours of sleep, that’s only 51 hours of awake time for a trip that cost $140. Grump grump grump.

It was actually a completely fabulous-tastic trip. My friend Sleaze in Porn Town hosted a kick-ass metal-ukelele show. This woman is a role model and I am so proud to call her my friend. She is pretty committed to the whole “practice what you preach” deal and lives very authentically within the bounds she has established for herself. I admire that she brought out several artists she liked to the show and then went shopping at their booths afterwards (in addition to LOUDLY telling everyone else to also partake of their wares). She bought out most of one artist’s prints and pins. When the artist expressed that the money from the sales would allow her to eat that week, Sleaze just kept buying and was like “ok, how much is this?” I also bought a pin from this artist (will post a link here if I find one to her other work):

Sleaze and I had some good talks and she was so excited and happy when I explained that I’m married. She also pointed out that my ring looks like a vulva. Now I can’t unsee it.

One thing I love about staying with Sleaze is how many books she has! Last time I read Cunt and that was pretty foundational and fundamental. This time I picked up Come as You Are and now my whole perception of my own sexuality is changing. The part I like the best is finding out that I’m normal. There is nothing wrong with me. And there are words to help me figure out some of my relationship things. The relief of this discovery makes me want to cry happy tears. Additionally, the freedom to just sit quietly and read is a beautiful thing.

Sleaze let me borrow the book and dropped me off at the train. I sure as hell hope my luck with transit continues because I’ve barely made all of the planes trains and automobuses I’ve had to catch.

My next destination was a Quaint Little Gated Suburbia (QLGS) to visit my friend StarStorm. Star was my field partner in class. For those who are not geologists, your field partner is the person you map with and share responsibility of your grade with. We work well together, Star and I. Recently, she had been making a life for herself in China and got what she thought was a minor sprain. It was actually a bunch of icky stuff that needed surgery so now she can’t walk and is staying with her parents in QLGS. Just the thought of any of these things makes me shudder.

I was actually able to find a lot of peace and fulfillment from the trip. I scared/intimidated her parents but they were mature enough to try to get to know me and allowed me to be vulnerable and honest. I felt such gratitude from Star herself. She and I were able to set out some actionable items to abate the crushing isolation that comes with a sudden lack of autonomy. I introduced her to The Fresh Prince, which somehow she missed. We laughed (a lot), we cried and we just simply were. She organized a lovely get together with friends and I (unsurprisingly) stripped and jumped in the ocean. I get cold super easily but for some reason never when I strip and go in the ocean. Maybe it’s feeling safe. Or whale jizz.

I also saw my friend, the Bicoastal Bisexual. We went to the strip mall that approximates as QLGS’s town center. We rolled down a grassy hill (Mabel voice “Yaaaay! Grass!”) and talked about our lives. It’s interesting seeing someone in such a different environment from where you met her. You find out where they made out when they were 15 and the movie theatre they snuck ice cream into. There’s a sense of nostalgia overlain upon otherwise replicate-able suburban box stores. The part I didn’t like was the PetSmart. Too many living things in cages. I did like Pier 1. They have smelly candles now that are fully inauthentic. They are neither smells nor actual candles. They are LEDs with oils named things like “Paradise”. It was silly. The Bicoastal Bisexual is one of the people I talk to frequently on Facebook and she also reads my blog (shoutout!) so it felt like we hadn’t seen each other in a month or so, when in reality it’s been over a year. I do appreciate when social technology can successfully do that.

Anyway, I’m super tired from travelling so I’ll leave you with a song that Sleaze covered because I can’t find the recording of her doing it. Yay, this song!