This Mortal Coil

I can’t really talk about it to Tony. He’s preoccupied with so many things and he doesn’t want to deal with me or my “drama” as he probably thinks of it, but the truth is that I’m sad. I’m sad and I feel dazed and unsure of what to do about it. My granddad died. He was here one minute. Alive, breathing, here on this earth and now he’s gone. I didn’t expect to be this upset over it. We hadn’t seen each other for a long time and I had never made a point of calling him or catching up or in anyway being an active part of his life. I guess that’s what a lot of grandchildren do, but we were close. We were connected in a way I didn’t really think about. I just felt it when I knew it was leaving. Felt it with the panic that comes with knowing that you’re about to lose something that you love. The connection was something I cant explain. It’s just something that I know is true. It’s something that’s hard to really put my head or mouth around. It was just there. A connection, a feeling, love. It’s more than love, it’s like a meeting of spirit, a recognition and understanding of somebody’s soul. I really felt that with him. I didn’t appreciate it. I didn’t think about it much, but it was there. It was there and now it’s gone and I’m so heartbroken about it. Ken said that deaths in the family not only make you reflect on the life of the one who died, but also of our own mortality and that, inevitably, it is a good thing. I think that’s true and I’m glad for it, but that doesn’t touch on all of it. It also makes you think and feel darker, sadder things. It’s something in the pit of my stomach, in the depths of my heart, it makes a whole in the spirit, and I just want to cry and cry until I can’t cry anymore. I want to run away. I want to hit something really hard. To break something. To throw the shit out of something. To pull my hair out and rip all of my clothes. I feel despair. I am sad. I start to wonder what the point of life is. And it’s a feeling I don’t want to let go of. A feeling that makes me feel more alert in some ways than I normally am. More understanding of the importance of things and that most things aren’t. And yet, every time, I think I’m in a good place, I just start thinking about the life that was once here and isn’t anymore and I’m sad again.

It makes me think that my granddad was young once. He met a young girl he fell in love with and he married her. And they had moments. Just like I have them with Tony. They had tender moments and laughter. They kissed and held each other in their arms and they had sex. They spent time together, woke up and drank coffee together, ate breakfast, stared out windows together and sometimes, all they needed was each other. Sometimes, they had lovely, beautiful moments that reminded them why they fell in love in the first place. Sometimes, my granddad must have looked at the sky or a tree or his children or the ocean or into his wife’s big blue eyes and taken a deep breath and thought that life was beautiful. He had all of that. Beautiful, heart breaking moments, and then one day, it was all gone. Just gone. And I can’t wrap my head around that. I can’t get over it. Can’t come to terms with it. I can’t make my peace with it. I’m angry and sick with it. And I don’t think I’ll ever find a way to accept it. Maybe not ever.

Yo Yoga

I'm getting really tired of watching television. We hear it all the time, but it's really true. There's not a damn thing to watch. Ever. It's just this incredible waste of time and space in my brain and yet, there's not much else to do when I want to just chill out. Cable television is actually really bad for my depressive and hermit tendencies. It encourages me to stay inside and waste time watching reality television instead of going out and doing my own thing which makes me depressed about not having a life which makes me not want to go outside and live my life. It's a cycle that's doing me no favors, so I have a plan to get me out of T.V. oblivion. (I write this as Charmed on TNT is playing in the background, mind you...): I'm going to start doing yoga. Kundalini yoga that's supposed to be good for stress relief and known to have calming and healing qualities. I have been getting migraines more and more frequently for the past 3 years or so and I'm getting to the point where I'm willing to do whatever it takes to stop. I also have this growing pit of anxiety in my stomach and heart and jaws that I need to get a handle on. I think that it might help and since my sister gave me 5 yoga classes for Christmas, why shouldn't I do it? I'm also going to start paddling. Like canoing with a group that meets on weeknights. I really need the exercise and the sunlight and the social part, so there it is. It's not exciting, but it's what I'm going to try to do now. Because I have to work through this depression that's trying to get a hold of me and I'm tired of trying to figure things out. I think I'll just do yoga and play on a canoe for a while and try and figure things out in a calmer, healthier way. It might be giving up, or postponing the inevitable but I'm tired of worrying about so many things.

The Brood That Passes Through You

I'm about to head home in a little more than a week and I can already tell that when I get there I'm going to be a little dazed and depressed. It's nothing to be worried about. Just something that happens sometimes and I know the signs. Still, in my big-mouthed way of sharing everything, I told this to my boyfriend Tony and I guess it made him worry. He said something about that it takes the joy out of me coming home if it's going to make me upset. I assured him that he need not worry because I always get a little broody and down with change and that it's temporary. I just need to space out and brood for, like, a day or two and I'll be fine.

But now, I'm kind of worried about it. I'm afraid that when I do, in fact, feel the brood coming on that I'm going to have to pretend that everything is fine when I'm around him so he doesn't start to feel bad. Which sucks because spending time with my parents, particularly my mother, that's all I do. My mom gets really stressed out and overwhelmed whenever I show any signs of being unhappy. It doesn't bother me because I know that, most of the time, it's not a big deal. And even if it is, I can work it out and all is well. I really think my mom gets scared, like, if you unleash the unhappy beast, it might devour you. The more I think about it, the more I think that must be how she feels about herself. Poor mom. Poor mom, but, as her daughter, it's exhausting to deal with. I know she wants to be there for us and for us to feel like we can talk to her, but really, she doesn't want to hear our anxieties. They trigger her anxieties. Oh, the joys of spending so much time with family!!!!

Anyway, I've been waiting to get home, so I could be an adult and feel free to brood all I want (the irony and sillyness isn't lost on me), but now, I don't know what to think. I know that, really, it's good to be honest in relationships. (It sounds good anyway...) But I think I can be a little too honest about how I'm feeling sometimes. Or maybe that's what my mom would say. I don't really know what to do about it and it's very confusing.

I guess I'll do what I want and need and nobody, even myself, can stop me, so there's no point in worrying about it. And anyway, I can always blame the jetlag enough for me to have a day or two of brooding. Tony works on the weekend days, so really, if I arrive on Wednesday late at night (on Aug. 8), I only have 2 days before I'm able to brood for a whole 8 hours in peace anyway, so it won't be so bad. But it makes me confused about the communicative "rules" of relationships and what I'm supposed to do. I don't want to be a burden. But that just makes me want to pull away. And maybe I shouldn't worry about it until I get there. It's coming soon enough.

Pop Secret

Writing in my Travel blog, I was reminded of another smell that reminds me of a time in my life and where I was. Oh, the memories!

My first job, at 16 years old, was at AMC Movie Theatre in Humble, TX. The first summer I worked there, the theatre was so busy with True Lies, Speed and The Lion King that we behind the concession stand never had a chance to clean anything. By the end of the night, Concession was so caked with popcorn and butter and grease that it took about two hours and a whole lotta cleaner to get everything clean again. In the process, my shoes would be covered with chunks of wet popcorn and cleaning fluid. Every time I came home from work, the smell clung to me and my shoes (that I would eventually leave in the car). Even to this day, I can remember that distinct smell of popcorn mixed with cleaner.

Boring Recap of the Last 3 Months of My Life

i've been really busy and really slacking. that's my excuse. i didn't mean to let it go this long without writing, but what can i say? i've never been good at discipline. anyway, here are the highlights: i started seeing someone at the end of december. i'll blame him for a lot of this because men are very distracting -- especially when they're cute... but to depart from acting like a junior high school girl (if that's possible..) it was very unexpected and is very wonderful. his name is tony, i've known him for about 4 years and he's the greatest guy ever. (but that's for another story) moving on, i got really sick with a sinus infection, then had to recover. i quit my job at the bar and moved out of my apartment to go to san diego and then delayed my plans. i moved into my man's apartment to figure out new plans and decided to go to cairo to stay with my parents and write. yeah, it sounds exciting. i realized halfway through this that i'm tired. i think i'm going to write more later cause that's all i got right now. ciao!

lord of the blog

i meant to blog more, but things have been busy. i really have nothing to say right now other than the fact that i'm moving to san diego and i'm really excited about it. who knows what's going to happen, but all i know is that i'm bringing good luck with me. and it's a beautiful thing.

p.s. i miss you lara!