i can never know

something that hundreds of thousands of other fine people know: what it is like to relocate to portland.

being one of an increasingly uncommon passel of folks who were actually spawned and reared in this place, means i am surrounded by a whole mad herd of people who came here on purpose. and i feel lucky. because i want to spend the rest of my life here. it's like being in an arranged marriage where you actually happen to be madly in love with the partner someone else chose for you.

but i know i have missed out on some quintessential "uprooting an entire life" type experiences. and the bravery and faith required for such a leap is almost unfathomable to me. there have been no tarps secured over a pickup full of belongings. no dark nights of driving to a new town without a clear sense of how living there will feel. i have never had to get to know a new town. i have never had to discover the best route to anywhere, because i have always known it. i have never been presented with such a remarkable chance to create a tale about my life in surroundings unfamiliar to me.

and this seems like something i want to experience. but i cannot imagine bringing myself to go elsewhere just to feel it.

and it is always one of the first questions i ask: what made you choose this place? of all the places? what was it like to come here from wherever it was you came? what drew you here and what do you miss about where you're from. and what was the most fundamental change you underwent to become a portlander at last?

i imagine it is a journey that changes a person. hilarity and loneliness must ensue. the magic of this place is not lost on me for a moment, but i will never know the magic of this place as a stranger must.

everything hits at once

indeed things are off at a gallop. and as in the old chinese proverb, living in interesting times might be something of a curse.

i can point to nothing that feels settled. no thing of which i am totally certain. no course to which i am fully committed. all the while i am in this profound and numbing flux, i am also swept along by circumstance. my faith, what will that i possess, the shred of patience i have constructed by dint of long effort, my brittle and inconstant self-assurance; all these are under siege.

yet, oh, the shining possibilities if only i can endure. the alluring fiction draws me forward, by degrees. but there is no certainty that i am being lured toward something that serves me. if i should look to these intimations and conjectures with any sort of confidence.

and what, then, to think of this desire i have to remake myself, body and soul, to be better equipped for a future i am not certain i want? what, then, of the desire to abandon things by which i have defined my life for so long, in pursuit of a goal less lofty but oh-so-much-more-accessible-seeming?

confronted, as i have been of late, with new people, experiences, avenues, and possibilities i feel that all has come into question. but in some more fundamental way than the way in which i always try to keep an open mind. i feel my compass has been dipped in lead and cannot find true north. that the reflection of myself i have always relied upon is somehow altered in some nebulous but profound way that no longer supplies me with a complete and meaningful truth about who and how i am.

and this scares me.

stupid oldness

sigh.

friend lyza and i started a 10k training program this week. not actually going to run a 10k, just gonna train for one. this after about 9 months of depression induced inactivity. i love running. it makes me feel strong and i consistently get a gratifying runners high, so it's one of my preferred methods of getting/staying fit.

however. my joints are a'gin me. i've had trouble with hips, wrists, shoulders, elbows, and most pertinently here, knees. i bought some wonderful braces which allow me to run and ski in comfort, but i kinda hit the pavement pretty hard this week, and did it twice before i tried to ski on saturday.

the weather was lovely, despite it being kinda nasty in town. the snow was AMAZING. lots of it, and powder to boot. no wind. virtually no one on the mountain. conditions were pretty much ideal.

after about a dozen runs, i was kaput. usually i can ski for about 4 hours before my knees start to object with any vigor. to be fair, i skied pretty aggressively and got in a ton of runs really quickly since there was zero lift line wait, but i still felt like a wanker only skiing for 2 hours. good thing the lift ticket was cheap...

was meant to bike ride yesterday. uh, no. laid around in bed all day instead. ate a bacon waffle. probably undid any gains (losses) i managed with all that running and skiing. ah well. took some ibuprofen before my run this morning, seemed to help. may just need to do so preemptively from now on...

the way my luck goes

is a little strange, i will admit. bad things happen to me all the time, but they somehow manage to never be as bad as they could be, so i end up feeling pretty lucky all things considered.

what happened to me on thursday is a classic example of this phenomenon.

i left work a wee bit early to make time to fetch hodie before my weekly therapy session. i came around the corner at 82nd and had a clackamas sheriff flip on his lights and pull me over. i was a little confused since i wasn't speeding (for once) and i knew all my tags and whatnot were current.

mr. officer comes to my window and takes my insurance, registration, and license only to say: "So did you know your license is suspended?"

to which i replied "wha-huh?"

apparently, when i was in a car accident in november and the officer on scene said i wouldnt need to file an accident report, he was full of shit. and so, they suspended me.

as it happened, the cop was a decent kind person and did not impound my car. so this is where my feeling of good luck comes in. it could have been so much worse. so. much. worse.

and it's all been resolved and tidied up. so. phew.

i want my blankie

today has been one of those days that can't be objectively classified as bad, yet is still end up feeling unaccountably sad.

i mean, it wasn't totally smooth sailing. i did have a hiccup about not having my schedule properly calibrated, but i think i got over that about 7.5 hours ago.

still, i'm sad. and when i look at babies i want to giggle and cry simultaneously. and i think ridiculous things about people who love me, and see disater around every corner, and i know this means my ovaries are to blame, but despite this powerful awareness, i cannot make myself seem to feel any less utterly swept up in my mope.

and, of course, my physician is OUT OF THE COUNTRY and not due to return until after the month end. and we hadn't managed to finalize my rx yet.

so what i really want to do is take a hot bath (which i cant because my hot water heater is retarded) and curl up in my blankie and cry. but instead i'm going to try and run.

run run run.

i am certain

that the contents of my purse say something about me. i think i like what it says...

obvious things like wallet and keys aside, we have;

Heidegger: Basic Writings
tin of dice
string of pearls
matchbook from favorite steakhouse
fuzzy socks for friend lyza
burt's bees lip shtuff
bust magazine
graphing calculator
laquered hairstick
extremely fancy log book with which to track expenditures (the irony therein not at all lost)
wine country chicken salad with cranberries and pecans from TJ's + wheat thins

feeling smug about how awesome i seem to myself this morning. :}

contents of your stachel? come on, i showed you mine...

dog mountain and the return of the black toenail of doom

i'll be wearing open toed shoes for the rest of this week, regardless of the not-yet-actually-springlike weather. why? well...

someone i like a real lot suggested we hike up dog mountain. not knowing any better... i agreed. even though the weather was less than ideal, i slipped on my shiny new fleece and prepared to be a good sport. what followed was the first honest to god physical exertion i've even engaged in for about 9 months. not, i must say, the ideal way to re-initiate oneself. because though the hike is only about three miles, it is three miles straight fu&^%ng up.

about every 3rd switchback i had to stop and pant desperately. at some point one of my expensive already once replaced rigid gas permeable contact lenses LEAPT TO ITS DEATH out of my eyeball; i was breathing that hard. when we were about 2/3rds of the way up we reached the one and only actual bench-place to sit. and about 2 minutes after we plopped down it started to hail angrily and insistently down upon us. i think it was the hiking gods punishing me for my hubris, because the hail stopped about 5 seconds after we agreed to try and hide under cover of trees. sigh.

when we got up to the last mile remaining to reach the summit, it seemed we had coincidentally reached the snowline. and me in my capris no less. it was here that it hit me just how much i really DO like this person i like a real lot, because the only reason i made this last portion of the trip was to keep him from thinking i am a quitter or a wuss. plus also he held my hand and kinda towed me up the last 1/10th mile. i hear in the spring the wildflowers that bloom up there are breathtaking. however, the most breathtaking thing i saw was the place where the trail disappeared around the side of the mountain under knee deep snow.

and when we finally did reach the top all there was to see were the few trees we took shelter under and the bank of clouds that were still clinging to the mountaintop. i was so tired i couldn't even stand up for my victory summit snapshot.

and then, there was downhill. oh god.

i just got these shoes. i love them. they were amazing on the way up. good in the snow, nice and grippy, waterproof, lightweight... i was giving them a 10. but, well, they are about 1/2 size too small. and so, on the way down my toes were jammed into the front of the shoe in a way that just spelled owie. last time i had this feeling was coming down Neakhanie. and i lost the entire toenail on one side.

luckily i dont think it'll come to that, but its bad enough that i havent yet put on shoes.

Please: No Mo' Emo Ro Co

k? it's been a bit of an ass kicker lately. and i mean, i'm used to sad. sad is manageable. sad is familiar. it's the whipsaw back and forth from giddy excitement and joy to anxiety and dismay i'm having the most trouble adapting to.

as much as i have courted chaos in the past, i think i need him to mount his storm-grey steed and ride out of my life for at least 6 months. even if what he leaves in his wake isn't necessarily the most ideal scenario as i'd envision it, to be able to rely on a little emotional consistency would be a great relief to me about now.

or, barring that, knowing full well it is more than i have any reason to expect, the whole serenity thing would be okay. that which i cannot change and so forth. i have actually begun to actively court the notion that i need new ways to self-soothe, since most of mine require the intervention of someone else. and breathing and mindfulness can only go so far. soporifics and comrades can only do so much. wrapping up in my blankie and reading my favorite book for the 14, 236th time has a limited power to soothe me.and this tends to make me feel vaguely lost and small. it's nice to lean on people who love me when i can, but sometimes, i just can't. sometimes i am profoundly alone and there is nothing to remedy the situation. as such, i need means to comfort myself in those moments. i wonder, sometimes what other people do, to ease their fears and sorrow. and i know the timbre of pain is as singular as each person, but i have this vain hope that someone might have a suggestion i can make my own.

i am a fan of the litany. i'm trying to create one for myself for these days.... and there is always my blankie.