The inspiration? Austin. Also, I can't seem to not write.
I want to jot down lots of things. I want to make lists of everything I want to do in this awesome town. I want the Interwebnets to know that I seriously want to go tubing this summer. And that, believe it or not, one of the things I want to do once in my life is bungee jump (but it must be picturesque and all that, not like at a county fair or some other b.s. "jump"). I want to sit down and write about my feeeelings and thoughts -- my mind is always ON. I want to tell you about the soundtracks to my life -- I thought everyone walked around with a song in their heads every waking moment and holy shit, it turns out that's not true. I want to eat at taco trailers and more taco trailers and more other-food trailers and be part of this eatery experience that seems to have taken over Austin. I want to go to music shows. A lot. I want to go to the Alamo to see movies. I want to see movies outside in parks and by pools. I want to go to quaint redneck beer halls. I want to go to dives. I want to dress up and sip a vodka at a fancy bar. I want chips and salsa. I want crab cakes Benedict at the South Congress cafe. I want Vivo's food and margaritas.
I want to tell you that it's August and we are having our hottest days and it's 103 degrees and I don't care b/c I am in Austin. My "damn it's hot" is more of an observation, not my FL lament and complaint using similar words and then wanting to cry. It rained last night and I loved hearing it. I also love walking in the rain -- it's like a giddy, kid thing for me.
I want to wander and enjoy it. I want to ponder and not over-analyze. I want to follow the process and reach enlightening conclusions, not judgment and depression. I want to remember that life is about choices and I will honor mine. I want to spark my creativity and finally get to work on the mixed media collages I want to make. I want to sew stuff for my couch so I can get closer to the color palette I want. I love colors. I also love the number 27. Just because it is pretty.
I want to read again. Where has my passion for books gone? Even magazine reading seems like a chore lately: the issue arrived, I better finish it before the next one gets here. How did that happen? Buying books again would be cool but is too expensive right now. Yes, the library is an option but it has all these waiting lists and deadlines that sometimes take the fun out of reading. I can be elitist, too, I suppose. I loved the libraries in SF but am not fond of the ones in FL. A different space, though, in so many ways. A different vibe, a different outlook, a different me.
I want to pretend I'm not aging. Just about everyone I know does not feel like their numerical age. I find that fascinating. I never aged myself past 32 because I just didn't feel older than that. This year I accepted 38 and suddenly I feel unhealthy and lethargic and what the hell are these new aches and pains? And I've always had body issues, but this time I tend to see it more as "fat and old" and that that's just the way it's gonna be. Except that it's not the way I want it to be. And I don't want to be lethargic either. I don't want to fall asleep in a chair while watching TV (that's even so hard to admit! my uncle does that but he's in his 70s.) Surely there is a place between acceptance and pretend, as somehow I see both in the negative sense. This is the most difficult area of acceptance for me. How can I accept myself when so much of me wants to change myself? That's my koan.
I want to share the amazing things I read in blogs written by amazing people. I want to shout about the joy I can now (if I make the choice and effort) experience, sometimes in a random moment, whether it stays or not. Did you know I didn't know the meaning of gratitude until last Thanksgiving? No light bulb moment. It was just me and my dog, Belle, and some turkey and potatoes and suddenly I knew what so many people meant about gratitude being the way to happiness. So my 2010 project has been to keep a gratitude journal, writing at least 5 things a day in it. I'll admit I don't write every day, sometimes I just want sleep. But even then I think about what I would have written, and write them the next day. As long as I remember to live it, I think it's OK to go back and fill in for past days. I'm always amazed when I flip back through the pages and randomly read some of my "I am grateful" lines. My dog features prominently. Since moving to Austin, the CM steak salad has made several appearances as well.
I want you to know that a week or so ago I had a total meltdown day, crying and everything. Mostly due to stress about not having a job. I gave in to the crying because that part felt good. But I did not sit in silence -- I reached out to people. I felt an urge to go back to one of my coping mechanisms to search for comfort, when in reality it's the last place comfort can be found. I met the urge halfway and realized it was enough to think it, see it, and then there was no need to actually do it. That's a big deal. And a really big deal is that that same week I did turn off the lights in my living room at night and made it dark. But it was so I could better experience a live concert broadcast. And I ended up dancing by myself in my home and singing aloud and just enjoying the moment. Just thinking about it makes me smile. That's the real me there, singing and dancing and being silly. Sure, when no one's looking, maybe. But lots of people don't even do that!
I want to express my love for the color orange and my strange affinity for orange cones. I personalize them when I see them on the street. No, I am not crazy, I just think it's fun. The color yellow really makes me happy lately. A long way from high school when my favorite color was black.
I want to have this space for all that and more. Life is so strange. I simultaneously have surprising stuff going on while having so many other things not going on. I simultaneously can be so happy to slip into a comfortable piece of clothing at home while being so appalled that for the outside world, I have nothing to wear b/c nothing fits or looks good. I can simultaneously look at my nails and be happy they are growing again after all the packing and moving but as soon as I catch a glimpse of all of myself in the mirror, I am disgusted. I can simultaneously feel blessed to have amazing friends and also be home and feel lonely in being alone. Intense dichotomies. I've still not made peace with the word "balance." (It's still on my list of "bad words.") But hey, if i finally figured out "gratitude," there's hope there yet.
I'll eventually deal with the components of this space -- the layout, gadgets, links, and whatnots. Whatnots are important. Right now, though, I just want to put this out there without caring about font or color (to the extent that I, a lover of fonts and color, can). See...dichotomies... I can accept the inner content here and not worry about the look (see comments about self and whoa, damn, i am so not able to give myself the same break I give to a silly blog layout).
Anyway, today I started writing again.* And that is good.
I want to jot down lots of things. I want to make lists of everything I want to do in this awesome town. I want the Interwebnets to know that I seriously want to go tubing this summer. And that, believe it or not, one of the things I want to do once in my life is bungee jump (but it must be picturesque and all that, not like at a county fair or some other b.s. "jump"). I want to sit down and write about my feeeelings and thoughts -- my mind is always ON. I want to tell you about the soundtracks to my life -- I thought everyone walked around with a song in their heads every waking moment and holy shit, it turns out that's not true. I want to eat at taco trailers and more taco trailers and more other-food trailers and be part of this eatery experience that seems to have taken over Austin. I want to go to music shows. A lot. I want to go to the Alamo to see movies. I want to see movies outside in parks and by pools. I want to go to quaint redneck beer halls. I want to go to dives. I want to dress up and sip a vodka at a fancy bar. I want chips and salsa. I want crab cakes Benedict at the South Congress cafe. I want Vivo's food and margaritas.
I want to tell you that it's August and we are having our hottest days and it's 103 degrees and I don't care b/c I am in Austin. My "damn it's hot" is more of an observation, not my FL lament and complaint using similar words and then wanting to cry. It rained last night and I loved hearing it. I also love walking in the rain -- it's like a giddy, kid thing for me.
I want to wander and enjoy it. I want to ponder and not over-analyze. I want to follow the process and reach enlightening conclusions, not judgment and depression. I want to remember that life is about choices and I will honor mine. I want to spark my creativity and finally get to work on the mixed media collages I want to make. I want to sew stuff for my couch so I can get closer to the color palette I want. I love colors. I also love the number 27. Just because it is pretty.
I want to read again. Where has my passion for books gone? Even magazine reading seems like a chore lately: the issue arrived, I better finish it before the next one gets here. How did that happen? Buying books again would be cool but is too expensive right now. Yes, the library is an option but it has all these waiting lists and deadlines that sometimes take the fun out of reading. I can be elitist, too, I suppose. I loved the libraries in SF but am not fond of the ones in FL. A different space, though, in so many ways. A different vibe, a different outlook, a different me.
I want to pretend I'm not aging. Just about everyone I know does not feel like their numerical age. I find that fascinating. I never aged myself past 32 because I just didn't feel older than that. This year I accepted 38 and suddenly I feel unhealthy and lethargic and what the hell are these new aches and pains? And I've always had body issues, but this time I tend to see it more as "fat and old" and that that's just the way it's gonna be. Except that it's not the way I want it to be. And I don't want to be lethargic either. I don't want to fall asleep in a chair while watching TV (that's even so hard to admit! my uncle does that but he's in his 70s.) Surely there is a place between acceptance and pretend, as somehow I see both in the negative sense. This is the most difficult area of acceptance for me. How can I accept myself when so much of me wants to change myself? That's my koan.
I want to share the amazing things I read in blogs written by amazing people. I want to shout about the joy I can now (if I make the choice and effort) experience, sometimes in a random moment, whether it stays or not. Did you know I didn't know the meaning of gratitude until last Thanksgiving? No light bulb moment. It was just me and my dog, Belle, and some turkey and potatoes and suddenly I knew what so many people meant about gratitude being the way to happiness. So my 2010 project has been to keep a gratitude journal, writing at least 5 things a day in it. I'll admit I don't write every day, sometimes I just want sleep. But even then I think about what I would have written, and write them the next day. As long as I remember to live it, I think it's OK to go back and fill in for past days. I'm always amazed when I flip back through the pages and randomly read some of my "I am grateful" lines. My dog features prominently. Since moving to Austin, the CM steak salad has made several appearances as well.
I want you to know that a week or so ago I had a total meltdown day, crying and everything. Mostly due to stress about not having a job. I gave in to the crying because that part felt good. But I did not sit in silence -- I reached out to people. I felt an urge to go back to one of my coping mechanisms to search for comfort, when in reality it's the last place comfort can be found. I met the urge halfway and realized it was enough to think it, see it, and then there was no need to actually do it. That's a big deal. And a really big deal is that that same week I did turn off the lights in my living room at night and made it dark. But it was so I could better experience a live concert broadcast. And I ended up dancing by myself in my home and singing aloud and just enjoying the moment. Just thinking about it makes me smile. That's the real me there, singing and dancing and being silly. Sure, when no one's looking, maybe. But lots of people don't even do that!
I want to express my love for the color orange and my strange affinity for orange cones. I personalize them when I see them on the street. No, I am not crazy, I just think it's fun. The color yellow really makes me happy lately. A long way from high school when my favorite color was black.
I want to have this space for all that and more. Life is so strange. I simultaneously have surprising stuff going on while having so many other things not going on. I simultaneously can be so happy to slip into a comfortable piece of clothing at home while being so appalled that for the outside world, I have nothing to wear b/c nothing fits or looks good. I can simultaneously look at my nails and be happy they are growing again after all the packing and moving but as soon as I catch a glimpse of all of myself in the mirror, I am disgusted. I can simultaneously feel blessed to have amazing friends and also be home and feel lonely in being alone. Intense dichotomies. I've still not made peace with the word "balance." (It's still on my list of "bad words.") But hey, if i finally figured out "gratitude," there's hope there yet.
I'll eventually deal with the components of this space -- the layout, gadgets, links, and whatnots. Whatnots are important. Right now, though, I just want to put this out there without caring about font or color (to the extent that I, a lover of fonts and color, can). See...dichotomies... I can accept the inner content here and not worry about the look (see comments about self and whoa, damn, i am so not able to give myself the same break I give to a silly blog layout).
Anyway, today I started writing again.* And that is good.
~Violet (my Austin name)
*ps. typos allowed
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