What I Learned Over My Winter "Break"

I went back to Wisconsin for Christmas this year. My first experience braving the cold, and 9 days of non-stop family, in three years. It was educational. The following are things I learned and/or rediscovered...


No matter how exhausted I make myself I will never be able to sleep on a plane.

Driving in a snowstorm is not fun.

My older sister sometimes has problems with the names of everyday objects. ("You know, the shiny magnetic thing that makes things cold." Otherwise known as the refrigerator.)

Only sisters can translate questions asked around a mouthful of toothpaste, complete with toothbrush.

My 9 year old nephew understands fantasy football, and I never will.

Vegetarianism is apparently a personal affliction that I force upon the rest of my family. ("Just have some, you won't get that sick.")

My being independent is apparently NOT a positive attribute. While originally insultingly amused by the comment (I'm 32, single, and live alone, who the hell else am I suppose to depend on?) there may be something to it. Further reflection is necessary.

We have slightly "off" senses of humor in my family, and sometimes conversational issues that only we appreciate. Mom needs her breasts flipped, Kim can't spread her cheeks any further, two socks qualify as multiple...

Drinking at the restaurant your sister is employed at can lead to a purse full of stir sticks and match books. And if left unattended said purse may end up wrapped in plastic "like a Christmas ham", with a note from the manager proclaiming your loserdom.

The Speedway still has the same unique scent. Which is not nearly as disturbing as it sounds, and is actually oddly comforting.

According to Uncle Paul my father is a "wuss".

Leggings are not pants. (Really. There's a website.)

Every time I see my maternal Grandmother she is convinced it is the very last time I will ever get to see her.

I am still intimidated when playing cards with Great Uncle Ted and Great Aunt June. And I never bring enough change to family gatherings.

College educated ad executives are not required to have a decent grasp of grammar. ("Snow is snowing" is redundant, plus it sounds stupid.)

I knew I was a bit of a loner, but I apparently require a lot more alone time than I realized.

I really need to work on the concept of forgiveness.

Last but not least, a question. There was a woman at the airport handing out religious booklets about "Jesus, your creator, who died on the cross for you." What religion is that?



It was an interesting trip.

something new

Lately I find myself being that girl. The kind that grins like a big dumb moron when I get a text message. The kind that spends most of the day anticipating the end of it, because that's when the phone call happens. The kind of girl that, let's be honest, usually bugs the crap out of me. And the truly obnoxious part is that I'm actually kind of enjoying it!

Being me, I have to over analyze this and try (likely in vain) to explain it all. Or at least justify it. This is the best that I can come up with.

For that part of the day, those few minutes, that hour (or more), however long that phone call lasts, I can actually just let go. It's the one part of every day that I feel comfortable, maybe even safe enough to be completely me. Why I can't be all of myself for the rest of the day, or even on a regular basis, is something I've never been able to fully explain. I guess I'm just not good at letting people in. That's just part of who I am.

But for that period of time in the day... I don't have to worry about not being understood, or thought of as strange. I don't have to censor myself, or try to phrase things in a certain way. I don't have to worry about saying the wrong thing, or sounding stupid. I don't have to explain my train of thought, or hold back the random tangents my brain decides to follow. For the first time I find myself in a situation where all of those things are somehow OK. I can be odd, confusing, random, dorky and moronic. I can even be that girl, and it's alright.

I can just be me.

It's bizarre, and amazing, and a little bit terrifying.

I guess most new things are that way.

rah, except not

I seem to be suffering from a completely non-dramatic, thoroughly uninteresting case of apathy lately. It happens occasionally. Some day I should probably track the whole sliding scale of it all, maybe there's some rhyme or reason to it. As it stands, I have no explanation. I don't know if this is something that happens to everyone, or if it's just one of the more "enjoyable" facets of me. While I have a hard time believing I'm unique in this way, I certainly wouldn't wish this on anyone else.

It's not that I'm unhappy. All in all, I like my life. It's a pretty good one, as lives go. I have a job I (usually) enjoy that pays my bills, a loving family, good friends, a roof over my head, a car that (more often than not) gets me from A to B... Sure, there are things that I want, but that's human nature. If you actually had everything you wanted, what would be the point to continued existence? I mean, even the enjoyment of having all of the things you want can only last so long, right?

It's just that my life just seems rather lackluster and dull right now. (I know, two words that mean the same thing, get over it.) I just can't seem to get interested in anything. Which I suppose is one of the defining characteristics of apathy...

There are about half a dozen things that I could, even should be doing. And about a dozen people I could call/write/email that would distract me from that. But I can't even find a way to be interested in procrastinating. That, at least, should garner an exclamation point but, eh. I just don't care that much.

I can't even count the number of times I've been in the middle of a conversation lately, even with someone I can normally tolerate, and I realize that I couldn't care less about what they are saying. I have no interest in responding. Half the time I've been paying so little attention that I'm not even sure what I'm responding to. I try to rewind the conversation in my head, and realize I care even less now. And it's not like my mind was even wandering to somewhere more important or interesting, I just stopped participating.

So I apologize to all of those people I should be calling, should be interacting with, promised to get a hold of and/or hang out with. Truly it's me, not you. Unless you really are boring, irritating or uninteresting. Then my mind is wandering because, well, you're boring, irritating, and uninteresting.

You would think that by age 32 I would stop being surprised by the fact that adulthood is not nearly as exciting as I expected it to be.

Lack

Anyone who knows me slightly well can tell you that I prefer to spend more time in the fantasy land in my head than I do in reality. Maybe I read too many books as a child, who knows. All I know is that it's pretty much always been this way. Usually it works well as a distraction from things I don't like, or when my life gets particularly uninteresting. Sometimes I use it to distract myself from something I want that I can't have immediately, something I've never been able to deal particularly well with. Or I can convince myself, for a short period of time that I actually have the thing that I want so desperately. Sometimes it has the unfortunate side effect of illuminating desires that I've managed to hide from myself. And once realizing that I'm missing something, that empty space is never unnoticeable again.

And sometimes, strangest of all for me, real things appear in life that surprise me. Things I didn't know I needed, feelings I didn't know I had, sometimes things that were right in front of me all along and I just never looked at them in quite that way. Suddenly things change. So when those things disappear I notice empty spaces.

Sometimes it feels like an itch I can't quite locate the source of. Irritating, yes, but not intolerable. Sometimes it's something that comes and goes so fast that I notice only that it's disappeared, but can't remember what was lost. Sometimes it is all encompassing, it takes over my waking and dreaming life. It's the worst kind of distraction. The kind that keeps me from focusing on anything else. If I could just fill that space everything would be OK, but I can't and it's all I can think about. It scatters my already scattered thoughts, makes regular life impossible, and makes fantasy land frustrating because it's that much harder to exist in reality.

And I wonder...

Was it better not having any knowledge of those blank spots? Would they even exist if things hadn't changed? Would it be better that way? Or would they be desires that popped up while dreaming one day? Possibly in a different form or possibly dismissible as the randomness of my imagination, since things wouldn't have changed and it would have seemed like such a bizarre idea. (Though still leaving a sense of emptiness.) Above all, I wonder, if I could have access to the things I want immediately, and consistently, would I want them as much? Or would I get bored with them quickly, like I do most everything else, and go back to consoling myself with fantasy land? And then what new thing would I notice that I'm lacking?

Back to "Normal"

I had every intention of writing a two part thing on my vacation(s). I even started it. And then I saved it, because my mind keeps wandering back around to how I feel right now. Stupid brain.

For just short of two weeks I was busy everyday. Playing in the sun, going to shows and festivals, seeing people I hadn't seen in forever, drinking far more than I have in years, trying new things, remembering old things and pretty much just appreciating every full moment.

And now... BLAH.

Life is correcting itself, I guess.

Intellectually I get that if every day was perfect and great and amazing, I wouldn't appreciate it as much. That doesn't mean I have to like when the pendulum swings back.

everyday life

I had one of those dreams last night. The kind where life is different, not necessarily better or worse, just... different.

It was kind of crazy in that it was very extensive. There was a whole through story line, complete with memories. And, it wasn't really eventful, it was like a regular normal life.

I was at a family reunion of some kind with my boyfriend, someone I definitely don't know in real life. (He was big, well muscled big, shaved head, tattoos, etc.) My dad didn't really like him, and the rest of my family wasn't sure what to think of him. These weren't things that were said, or even made issue of, they were things that I just knew. We had had some kind of disagreement, and we were talking about it, half apologizing to each other. I was in his arms and looking at him, sort of unsure if I was done being irritated. And he told me I'd make it up to him, in a somewhat amused suggestive kind of way. Then he made some kind of comment to my family. It wasn't bad, but I was embarrassed, and went back to being irritated. After dinner we got in a car to go somewhere. My cousin was driving and she said something about how lucky he and I were to have each other. I told her if she were dating him she might not be so sure, and he just laughed.

See. Not better, not worse, just different.

Well, maybe a little less lonely.

I'm not dealing well with regular life today.

Computer Games

I think I have to delete solitaire from my computer. I find myself playing it for hours at a time. During which I constantly berate myself for not accomplishing anything. I tell myself I'm going to get rid of it all of the time. Which seems to be about as effective as telling myself to quit smoking. The road to hell, I guess.

I make lists of all of the things I need to accomplish. I used to think I did this because then I could cross things off, and therefore feel some sense of accomplishment, albeit a small one. That's how I could justify listing mundane things that I don't actually need a reminder for. These days I feel like I've accomplished enough just by writing the list, crossing things off is rarely something I actually expect to do.

I've also learned that I am less likely to write anything if I put "Write" on the list. Regardless of how many exclamation points follow that word, or how many times it's underlined. Apparently I have such an aversion to being told what to do, I even defy myself!

The only reason I'm actually writing this now is that I've run out of other things to look at and read. And I refuse to allow myself to click on that evil little link! Even though it's calling me...

"Come on Carrie, just one game. Or maybe three..."

Do they have a group for solitaire addicts?

My poor neglected blog...

I started this with every intention of trying to write every day. Or at least more regularly. Obviously, not so much given that my last entry was, oh, forever ago.

So, what's happened since then?

Everything. And nothing.

Finally found a job, that was easily the worst experience of my working life. You'll see it in a movie someday, I promise. Provided I actually sit down and finish writing the damn thing.

Quit the evil job, and found one I absolutely love! I don't make a ton of money, but the sanity is a welcome change.

Lost the boyfriend of nearly four years, which I imagine I'll go into greater detail on at some point. Just not today.

Finally started writing out some of the crazy randomness that clogs up my brain. Which, instead of unclogging said brain, just brought on a whole crap load more. I've always said my head was like Pandora's box, and now I'm convinced.

Now, I'm just working on finding out who I am all over again. At 31, that's a hell of an interesting idea. And, being me, it's sure to be filled with all sorts of random, weird, wild, and hilarious moments.

So stay tuned for the craziness.

"You're life is a book I want to read!" Amanda, in reference to my craziness, preceded and followed by insane laughter.