overflow

I was sitting at dinner tonight having a heavy discussion with my dad when I was struck with an image. I saw a delicate pottery bowl with a beautiful glaze reminiscent of a blue tile-bottomed pool. In the bowl, which was deeper than a normal bowl, was crystal clear water. If the bowl was set down and still, the reflection from the glaze would make it hard to see the liquid therein - it would be just one fluid piece of mass. But if you were to pick up the bowl and try to walk with it, the water would start to move around the interior, banking against its perfectly smooth sides, gaining momentum with each step as it would slosh forward, then back, then forward again. At any moment it would threaten to break over the side of the dish, to make its presence known on the ground or surroundings outside of the glazed haven it comes from.

How then to keep such liquid still? How then to prepare the world for its inevitable overflow? How then to prepare yourself?

Character study

There was a girl on the train who had something stuck in her teeth. Aside from that, she was rather put together. She wore an outfit that managed to be hip without looking as if it was pulled straight from the pages of a magazine, and her boots were to die for. She boarded the train with an air of confidence, but if you stared at her long enough you'd catch her looking at her reflection in the window, worrying about how her limp hair detracted from the rest of her look. She carried no book, no paper and no ipod. Perhaps she meant to bring some sort of distraction along, but in her attempt to leave the house in a put together fashion she forgot her portable entertainment. So she spent the ride instead smoothing her skirt, glancing at her profile and smiling at the people whose gaze she accidentally caught in an attempt to focus her attention on anything but herself.

return

I had the great fortune of meeting a few of my favorite bloggers this past Friday on a combined work/vacation trip to D.C. Lemon Gloria and Grad School Reject (and Mrs. Grad School Reject - a special treat!) joined me at Cafe Saint-Ex in D.C. for a couple rounds. It was so neat to verify in person that these people whose thoughts and ponderings have so entertained me in the past year are even more charming in real life than on the computer screen. Even as I recognized the only reason we were meeting in the first place was due to our mutual love of blogging, I had to bashfully admit that lately my blogging habit has been mostly replaced by watching ABC online because it better accommodates the lack of mental capacity I find required to make cold calls all day.

The truth is, these days I do most of my blogging in my head. I carefully meditate with words and thoughts about all that is going on, promise to commit it all to memory so as to post it later, then fail to remember the substance I'd stumbled upon and face a blank screen. For awhile I was really upset with myself - I felt like I was letting myself and the people (few, but treasured!) who read this site down. I was telling GSR and LG about this - how even though I know I could post more frequently if I really set out to do so, posting for the sake of posting just doesn't appeal to me. I know there is little congruency to this site - sometimes It's an outlet for dark thoughts - sometimes for silly flirting stories, sometimes for pics or random observances. But any time I post something it's because it's something I genuinely want to share - sometimes not even want to, but need to. Need a place to vet something and know the experience isn't happening in a vacuum.

All this aside, I have also come to realize that whereas much of my processing and growth in the past few years has found its best outlet in the blog world (both in my own posts and in the opportunity to read and comment on others), right now I feel pressed by some bigger force to take such things into the world in different ways. I'm making a really concerted effort to get music back into my life - to put myself in a position to use it as an outlet and not just background noise. I'm trying to give myself artistic outlets - I bought a sewing machine and have been holding almost weekly "craft" nights with friends to CREATE whatever tickles our fancy. And I'm starting to cook again, and to read more - to move past writing infinite lists and to simply DO more.

It is nice to know that this space is here to process such things when I need to, that it will welcome me at any time, accept my lack of schedule and structure and still collect my wanderings. It is also nice to know that I owe myself more than I owe my blog - and right now that's what I'm trying to focus on. Thank you to those reading for sticking with me, and to GSR and LG (and James who I met last month here in Berkeley) for meeting up and expanding my blog reality just that much more by taking it off the page.

The playboy next door

The room I'm staying in in my parents houses is right next to my dad's office. Each room has a door that enters our middle bathroom and are catty corner to each other, and there's another (albeit out of use) door right next to the bathroom connecting the two rooms. The multitude of doors, combined with the age of the house (50+ years) means there is very little soundproofing, and I frequently overhear my dad while he's in his office. Recent snippets have included:

"Because God knows, if things were different, I'd love to spend my life with you."

or,

"I never did get to see you naked all those years ago."

I admit, the first couple times I overheard such things I was a bit alarmed. But in truth, it's nothing to be worried about. My dad is actually writing a book, and being of poor eyesight and even poorer typing skills, he's using a software that lets him "talk" his book, rather than type it. It's entertaining, to say the least, and I admire his commitment to his writing and the process he's going through to pursue his ideas. When it comes right down to it, he's doing a much better job than I am, at the moment, of getting my ideas out there.