(no subject)

This morning? I just had a fucking full blown Lifetime Television for Women Moment. Which probably hit particularly hard because it came on the heels of my spectacular flame-out of last night.

I'm always afraid of being the girl who outstays her welcome. I'm always afraid of being the person who tries too hard. I'm afraid of being the humorless alcoholic, or the person who wants to win every game of misery poker. And yet, I hear these things coming out of my mouth all the time, and I cringe every time, but I haven't figured out the other best way to behave.

And it destroys me, when I find out, or even when I imagine that someone dislikes me, because I assume, simultaneously that I am a) the topic of every conversation when I leave the room and no one has anything nice to say and b) not important enough pay attention to when I'm in the room, much less when I leave it and it's so hard for me to remember that people might just be wrong about me, since postmodernism pretty much warped me to the core.

And I could unpack the hell out of that. I know some of the reasons why, and I'm desperately trying to figure out some more, and I think I'm probably pathetically grateful for whatever crusts I get offered and sometimes I wish I had a little more dignity.

But but but.

This morning, I got up to take the dog out at 7am. We walked down the street to the little dog park around the corner on Walnut. I was bundled up, I had stuck my ipod and my headphones in my pocket, and it was an unremarkable sort of occasion. I was spacing out in the park, trying to figure out how I was going to keep from repeating yesterday, or what I needed to feel I salvaged and how.

I hadn't put my headphones in, and wasn't really paying much attention to my surroundings, above and beyond making sure that Moppet wasn't rolling in other dogs' shit. And all of a sudden there was a noise I recognized.

Now, many of you know that I am a whiny, whiny bitch and though I'm adapting, Somerville is not my natural habit. I didn't know until I moved out here that I wasn't really cut out to be a city girl, and I cling to the fact that a happy Light, public transit, a live music scene, and an awesome public library system are more than enough to counterbalance the things that disturb me.

But, it is dirty here, it is smelly and noisy and everything is covered in trash and people spit on the sidewalks and you can't see many of the stars at night. I joke about being on the cutting edge of gentrification and about just waiting until that green line comes in, but what it really means is that my house has a weird kind of low-budget/leftover feeling to its exterior, and a couple houses down the street got foreclosed, tape across the door, since we lived here and across the street is a house renovated into condos that I they just gave up on trying to sell. The commuter rail runs behind our house, and the area around the tracks is a magical treasure trove of trash.

BUTBUTBUT...I heard a woodpecker today. And then, after I heard the woodpecker, I realized there were at least four distinct birdsongs going on. And it was awesome, so I'm going to be in a much better mood than I'd be if I made Light take the moppet on her morning walk. It's not all dead and dirty here, it's just harder to find. So screw everything that makes me insecure, everything that's making me doubt myself, everything that's making me feel smaller and less important. There's a fucking woodpecker in my back yard and that's awesome.

I'm going to go make blueberry muffins.

(no subject)

This morning? I just had a fucking full blown Lifetime Television for Women Moment. Which probably hit particularly hard because it came on the heels of my spectacular flame-out of last night.

I'm always afraid of being the girl who outstays her welcome. I'm always afraid of being the person who tries too hard. I'm afraid of being the humorless alcoholic, or the person who wants to win every game of misery poker. And yet, I hear these things coming out of my mouth all the time, and I cringe every time, but I haven't figured out the other best way to behave.

And it destroys me, when I find out, or even when I imagine that someone dislikes me, because I assume, simultaneously that I am a) the topic of every conversation when I leave the room and no one has anything nice to say and b) not important enough pay attention to when I'm in the room, much less when I leave it and it's so hard for me to remember that people might just be wrong about me, since postmodernism pretty much warped me to the core.

And I could unpack the hell out of that. I know some of the reasons why, and I'm desperately trying to figure out some more, and I think I'm probably pathetically grateful for whatever crusts I get offered and sometimes I wish I had a little more dignity.

But but but.

This morning, I got up to take the dog out at 7am. We walked down the street to the little dog park around the corner on Walnut. I was bundled up, I had stuck my ipod and my headphones in my pocket, and it was an unremarkable sort of occasion. I was spacing out in the park, trying to figure out how I was going to keep from repeating yesterday, or what I needed to feel I salvaged and how.

I hadn't put my headphones in, and wasn't really paying much attention to my surroundings, above and beyond making sure that Moppet wasn't rolling in other dogs' shit. And all of a sudden there was a noise I recognized.

Now, many of you know that I am a whiny, whiny bitch and though I'm adapting, Somerville is not my natural habit. I didn't know until I moved out here that I wasn't really cut out to be a city girl, and I cling to the fact that a happy Light, public transit, a live music scene, and an awesome public library system are more than enough to counterbalance the things that disturb me.

But, it is dirty here, it is smelly and noisy and everything is covered in trash and people spit on the sidewalks and you can't see many of the stars at night. I joke about being on the cutting edge of gentrification and about just waiting until that green line comes in, but what it really means is that my house has a weird kind of low-budget/leftover feeling to its exterior, and a couple houses down the street got foreclosed, tape across the door, since we lived here and across the street is a house renovated into condos that I they just gave up on trying to sell. The commuter rail runs behind our house, and the area around the tracks is a magical treasure trove of trash.

BUTBUTBUT...I heard a woodpecker today. And then, after I heard the woodpecker, I realized there were at least four distinct birdsongs going on. And it was awesome, so I'm going to be in a much better mood than I'd be if I made Light take the moppet on her morning walk. It's not all dead and dirty here, it's just harder to find. So screw everything that makes me insecure, everything that's making me doubt myself, everything that's making me feel smaller and less important. There's a fucking woodpecker in my back yard and that's awesome.

I'm going to go make blueberry muffins.