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demakatI went on vacation to new jersey. I took the train even though everyone I told about it (20+ hours) thought I was crazy and wanted to know why I didn't just pay the extra to take a plane. I like trains as a way of travel. The engines on trains always feel like giant diesel beasts with a difficult job, like draft horses pulling a plow. They're so large and powerful, yet somehow elegant. I just watched the documentary Miss Navajo and the scenery looked amazing, it makes me want to take the long train ride to the west coast even more now. There is a train that runs up the coast called the starlight. How is that not awesome?
I had a suitcase this time because I wanted to bring yarn and I usually bring a ton of food so I don't have to buy questionable on the train or at the stations. If I wanted to though I could have fit everything in my small case and a backpack. It's hard to remember that my favorite activity is listening to music and looking out the window, and I bring tons of things thinking that I will get bored. Not possible. Tired but not bored.
While I was there I got to go to the natural history museum and eat a ton of things. I dragged my friend out to the city a second time so I could go to the bergen street comic shop. I'd heard of it because johnny wander had a book release(?) party there and I realized I would actually be able to go visit something I'd seen on the internet. Quite after the fact though, the party was the weekend before I was there.
Bought baby things for my friend's soon to be kidlet. Mentally I have been calling him Baby Cakes in my head for a while now. I don't know what his name will be (we do know the He part) but I feel fairly certain that crying baby will be greeted with "what's wrong baby cakes?". Baby can't judge me, unlike the guy in seafood I want to call Brando all the time. It just happens in my head and I have a hard time using people's real names after that.
We drove back because they had a broken treadmill that my brother has since fixed. I ended up driving the last third of the way. Cruse control is pretty awesome but also pretty really weird. Introduced my friend to the wonders of 24 hour post office access at 5am on a saturday and then made it to my house right before my parents left for the weekend. Slept from 6 to 12, made cupcakes and cookies then went back to bed.
Sunday I spent all day at the baby making friend's house, at what she called a nesting party. We helped her make a lot of frozen meals for after the baby is born and people will be uselessly milling about. But mostly so she doesn't have to eat takeout all the time when other people are in charge of feeding the mom.
Then I went back to work on monday because we're trying to get easter to happen all over the place. I'm only half way there. I have to make it through the end of the week and through the actual baby shower and then I can finally do things like unpack my suitcase.
That's where I've been and what I've been up to. Kind of failing at drawing even though things keep floating around in my head. I keep yarning in my down time because I am so close to something useful for the baby. I need to find boxes to wrap things in, and I need to finish stuff for my coworker's kid and then I am done with baby stuff and with yarns for the season.
---
I've been comparing myself to a warrior lately in another blog I'm part of with a group of women. My mom likes groups and it's always awkward because I'm much younger than everyone else but they keep praising me for the way I think. I don't feel like I think so differently than my peers, but I always have to temper that statement with the fact that on the internet you can surround yourself with peers who are at the same mental level as yourself. Friends in real life are somehow more difficult, my pace doesn't match theirs ...ever. Sometimes I feel like the child while they get married and have children, and other times I feel like my choices are more prudent for myself even though they might act differently.
But I compare myself to a warrior. I wake up every day and I put on my jeans and a shirt. My gear. I take my bag that I mostly live out of and I go do life. The funniest, maybe ironic, thing is that the battles I fight are almost always with myself. But I always get up and go again the next day. It's a worker's mentality, but I'm too aggressive for that.
Right now I'm wishing I could just cut out all of my feelings, that I was not attracted to people and I could just make friends with them. I can't even manage to make friends. I feel like my cycle is a little backwards, I should have all my emotions coming out at the end not the middle. Something I was watching on netflix had people hugging for that awkward amount of time where, if it were me I would start bawling all over the place, and I nearly did start crying just watching it. Maybe the waves of loneliness aren't cyclic at all and they just come and go.
I am for sure a warrior. a giant idiot who stands and moves on as everyone else hugs one another in joy. gentleness will not work, I will be filled with fear that it's not the truth, that I'm only wanted out of sense of social duty. People are suppose to want me there because I helped them, but I would rather them feel the mild sense of gratitude and leave than stay and be bombarded with fake affinity and affection. I want people to be sure, I don't want them to waist their time on me.
But when my shoulders hurt like this I know it's a craving for touch, for hugs. I never do anything about it. I don't have the kind of relationship with any person I know where I can ask for hugs or cuddles. It passes, but in the mean time it hurts.
I had a suitcase this time because I wanted to bring yarn and I usually bring a ton of food so I don't have to buy questionable on the train or at the stations. If I wanted to though I could have fit everything in my small case and a backpack. It's hard to remember that my favorite activity is listening to music and looking out the window, and I bring tons of things thinking that I will get bored. Not possible. Tired but not bored.
While I was there I got to go to the natural history museum and eat a ton of things. I dragged my friend out to the city a second time so I could go to the bergen street comic shop. I'd heard of it because johnny wander had a book release(?) party there and I realized I would actually be able to go visit something I'd seen on the internet. Quite after the fact though, the party was the weekend before I was there.
Bought baby things for my friend's soon to be kidlet. Mentally I have been calling him Baby Cakes in my head for a while now. I don't know what his name will be (we do know the He part) but I feel fairly certain that crying baby will be greeted with "what's wrong baby cakes?". Baby can't judge me, unlike the guy in seafood I want to call Brando all the time. It just happens in my head and I have a hard time using people's real names after that.
We drove back because they had a broken treadmill that my brother has since fixed. I ended up driving the last third of the way. Cruse control is pretty awesome but also pretty really weird. Introduced my friend to the wonders of 24 hour post office access at 5am on a saturday and then made it to my house right before my parents left for the weekend. Slept from 6 to 12, made cupcakes and cookies then went back to bed.
Sunday I spent all day at the baby making friend's house, at what she called a nesting party. We helped her make a lot of frozen meals for after the baby is born and people will be uselessly milling about. But mostly so she doesn't have to eat takeout all the time when other people are in charge of feeding the mom.
Then I went back to work on monday because we're trying to get easter to happen all over the place. I'm only half way there. I have to make it through the end of the week and through the actual baby shower and then I can finally do things like unpack my suitcase.
That's where I've been and what I've been up to. Kind of failing at drawing even though things keep floating around in my head. I keep yarning in my down time because I am so close to something useful for the baby. I need to find boxes to wrap things in, and I need to finish stuff for my coworker's kid and then I am done with baby stuff and with yarns for the season.
---
I've been comparing myself to a warrior lately in another blog I'm part of with a group of women. My mom likes groups and it's always awkward because I'm much younger than everyone else but they keep praising me for the way I think. I don't feel like I think so differently than my peers, but I always have to temper that statement with the fact that on the internet you can surround yourself with peers who are at the same mental level as yourself. Friends in real life are somehow more difficult, my pace doesn't match theirs ...ever. Sometimes I feel like the child while they get married and have children, and other times I feel like my choices are more prudent for myself even though they might act differently.
But I compare myself to a warrior. I wake up every day and I put on my jeans and a shirt. My gear. I take my bag that I mostly live out of and I go do life. The funniest, maybe ironic, thing is that the battles I fight are almost always with myself. But I always get up and go again the next day. It's a worker's mentality, but I'm too aggressive for that.
Right now I'm wishing I could just cut out all of my feelings, that I was not attracted to people and I could just make friends with them. I can't even manage to make friends. I feel like my cycle is a little backwards, I should have all my emotions coming out at the end not the middle. Something I was watching on netflix had people hugging for that awkward amount of time where, if it were me I would start bawling all over the place, and I nearly did start crying just watching it. Maybe the waves of loneliness aren't cyclic at all and they just come and go.
I am for sure a warrior. a giant idiot who stands and moves on as everyone else hugs one another in joy. gentleness will not work, I will be filled with fear that it's not the truth, that I'm only wanted out of sense of social duty. People are suppose to want me there because I helped them, but I would rather them feel the mild sense of gratitude and leave than stay and be bombarded with fake affinity and affection. I want people to be sure, I don't want them to waist their time on me.
But when my shoulders hurt like this I know it's a craving for touch, for hugs. I never do anything about it. I don't have the kind of relationship with any person I know where I can ask for hugs or cuddles. It passes, but in the mean time it hurts.
