Can of Worms

Truly, it is amazing how intoxicating it is to be honest and to speak your mind. I would like to think of myself as a bold person, but really I dread confrontation. I think it may be I fear that any sort of speaking out may draw criticism to myself, which generally I despise in my internal and eternal quest for perfection (what do you mean its not possible?) But there are delicious moments of peace, like the eye of the storm, when I can see who I am and what I want so clearly. And then life begins again.

I have the relationship experience of a middle schooler. In my shyness (?) or whatever of youth I seemed to have missed the practice grounds of dating during which most people seem to have worked out all the kinks (as I write this I really don’t think I believe this, I think most folks still have lots of kinks and if they don’t, I really don’t want to be friends with them). As much as I claim to just embrace the awkwardness of it all (what else can you do?), really most situations leave me a bit queasy. I feel like there is a secret language I lack (What are you really saying?) or some manual I need tucked in my back pocket to assist me. Either way, I am forging ahead and finding it all both amusing and exhausting. I mean people are really a funny breed. We preen, we prance, and we pause to see what the others reaction will be. Personal, I think Men should come humbly before the Throne of Woman (er, Christa), supplicating for the Privilege of Attendance. As I toss my Calculating Curls (short, straight hair),designed to bring Men to their Knees, I mercilessly sweep through the Sea of Beaus, my Heavenly Blue Eyes swiftly measuring the Worth of Each Brave (or fool hardy) Man (boy) that dares enter my Shining Presence. I’m a Man-Eater. (Cue music. Any other fair maidens want to volunteer to come live with me in my temple? I am currently arranging a few musical numbers and I need some back up dancers. Costumes will be provided).

I find my own wit to be devastatingly funny. Ironically enough, given this haughty tableau, I am really bothered by my dates paying for me. I cannot figure out if that is because I just feel uncomfortable with them treating me or because my sense of independence is affronted or because I have an underdeveloped sense of worth and don’t want anyone to go into any trouble for me. I will ask my acupuncturist.

I am trying to complete my supplemental reading for my new position. I was only on page 4 when I decided to take a break and write this and as I am doing so I am drinking contraband Chai. Sigh. Perfection will come.

I am the person who enjoys Christmas Eve more than Christmas, meaning I find the unfurled potential or anticipation of an event much more intoxicating than the reality. I think this is a symptom of my overactive imagination. All that to say, my imaginary, youthful picture of Adult Life seemed a whole lot nicer (and whole lot more like a musical) than the reality. Though Jessa and I did spontaneously sing a duet last night.

Other updates:
• Vashti is officially an outdoor cat, though I do listen for mountain lions in order to rescue her as the situation may require.
• Nursing seems to be my next most likely (take with a grain of salt for it is my 37th new life plan since February) career choice.
• Acupuncture is a God Send. Quite literally I believe it may be the foundation of my current level of sanity.
• I enjoy living simply but poverty is overrated.
• I planning to make myself a dress out of an old sheet. It’s going to be gorgeous.


I am going back to being completely and utterly productive for daylight cannot be wasted and there is much yet to be done.