...or my lack thereof
I like to get what I want. OK, who doesn’t? Let me rephrase that. I almost always get what I want. Possessing the ability to convince myself that I don’t want things I obviously can’t have doesn’t exactly hurt, but that’s not where I’m going with this.
Once I’ve decided want I want, I want it NOW. I have no patience. I don’t understand how to find joy in the process of things. I know there are people who do, but I honestly just don’t get that. I think that’s part of why the writing class I just finished was so hard for me. The teacher clearly enjoyed the process of building a script, beginning at it’s most minuscule parts. (I think he might even have liked that better than the actual writing of the story.) For me that was like working backwards. I had to take what was fully formed in my head, break it down, and then rebuild it. In increments. Very. Slowly. It drove me absolutely nuts! I’m getting irritated just typing this. Not to mention off topic.
Having gotten what I wanted, I want more. And I want that immediately too. What can I say, I’m insatiable. I can see the next hill in the distance, and I want to get on top of it, like, yesterday. (Bad metaphor? Agreed.) Then it repeats. Over and over and over. Until I drive just about everything I want right out because I’m in such a hurry to get to the end.
It’s true with books. I have to read the ones I really like at least twice. The first time I’m just ripping through it to find out what happens next. The second time I find whole sections that I completely missed. Sometimes it’s not till the fourth or fifth time through that I allow myself to take pleasure in the story.
It’s true with writing. I want to be able to sit down and write the entire thing, from beginning to end, virtually uninterrupted, even if it takes days. I have no problem going over things and editing. But writing in fits and starts makes me want to throw things.
It’s true with planning things. I don’t always need there to be a plan, but if there is one, I want to get started on it right away. I can’t handle the idea of sitting around and waiting. Sitting around and being lazy, fine, no problem. But when someone says “Hey, let’s do this!”, I can’t fathom why you wouldn’t want to just get to it.
And it’s very true with men. And sex.
If I don’t get what I want when I want it, I turn into a small child. Sometimes it’s an epic battle to keep myself from trying every tactic I can come up with; pleading, bribing, whining, threatening… I haven’t thrown a fit since I was a kid, but there are many days when I would really like to. And more than a few when I very nearly have.
The downside to all of this (aside from manic craziness, and a fair amount of repression) is that, at some point, I always realize that I've missed something. I didn’t take the time to enjoy moments that could have been remembered later. Or in my hurry to find a faster way, I end up getting lost and have to backtrack, which is just plain infuriating. Or I’m in such a hurry to get what I want that I don’t realize it’s not what I really want until it’s too late. And sometimes I push so hard and so fast that I scare things (mainly people, OK, fine, men) away.
I wish I knew how to stop wanting to have everything, and know everything, all at once. I wish I knew how to slow down and just enjoy the process of life. I wish I knew how to stop pushing so hard that I end up running right past what I was pushing towards. But I honestly haven’t the slightest clue how to do that.
Maybe someday someone will be able to teach me how to slow down. At this point I don’t hold out much hope that I’ll figure it out on my own. Maybe they’ll have to force me. That person may have a legitimate claim to sainthood. Until then, I promise to apologize, and feel appropriately bad, if I run you over on my way to wherever the hell it is that I think I want to be.
Saturday, July 10, 2010
Tuesday, July 6, 2010
Vacation and Life Lessons
For the past few years I've been going back to Milwaukee every late June/early July, ostensibly for Summerfest. What's better than hanging out in the sun, by the lake, surrounded by all kinds of music, good fatty food, and tons of beer? Very little, in my opinion. But it's also become a time to reset. To hang out with family and friends, get away from regular life for awhile, and to just completely let go and not worry for a week. I always seem to learn (or re-learn) a fair amount about myself in the process, too.
I'm pretty sure I went back the year before last, but I don't remember much of it. It was a pretty rotten time in my life, and I tended to hide. A lot. So while I could look up a list of shows and tell you what I might have gone to see, I really don't know that I left my parents' house much that year.
Last year was a completely different story. I saw Rusted Root, Rancid, Rise Against, The BoDeans, and I don't even know who else. (I did mention the beer, right?) I danced and sang in the rain. I hung out with my niece and nephew. I got to take my entire family to a baseball game. I drank excessive amounts of alcohol, probably more than I had in the entire previous year. I went to the Greek Festival, got drunk (actually I think the drunk came first and just continued all night), and rode bumper cars with friends from high school. That was easily the weirdest night of that vacation, and one of the most memorable. (If anyone ever decides they need to show you their favorite porn, make sure you know how to turn it off before they pass out. Otherwise you end up awkwardly passing out on a couch to strange noises.) I saw a few old friends that I hadn't seen in years, and even reconnected with some that I thought I had lost. (I also nearly destroyed a friendship, but that's a different story.) I spent so little time at home that I know my mom got a little frustrated. I had more fun than I'd had in a VERY long time. It was a nice reminder that I could have fun again. Something I desperately needed at the time. None the less, at the end of that trip, I remember being ready to go home to CA and rejoin my life.
This year, when I got on the plane to go back, I had a little talk with myself. Mostly it centered around the idea that I shouldn't get my hopes up. While I fully expected to have a good time, I couldn't realistically imagine that it could possibly be as fun as the year before. Lesson number one. Never underestimate the power and knowledge of the universe. I got so very much more than I expected, more than I thought I needed, and more than I might have thought I deserved before it all happened!
I landed within minutes of my best friend, and we went to pick up a rental car. (The car was a fantastic decision that I think will be repeated for every trip from here on out.) Lesson number two. Patience. A recurring theme throughout this vacation, and I can't say that I made much progress on it. I suppose that's why it was recurring. Anyway, I forget sometimes that, even though LA has a pretty laid back vibe, things around here just get done fast. It doesn't feel like everyone's always rushed, just that there are other things to get done, and the sooner the better. Now WI isn't quite deep south slow, but it's definitely a different pace. People are more chatty and less urgent. It was an adjustment that I'm not sure I ever quite mastered. Also, it's not nice to laugh at the man at the counter when he offers you a GPS system. Not that it was really needed, but telling him I was pretty sure I remembered my way around guaranteed immediate lostness.
After random driving and mom visiting and beer cheese soup for dinner (yes, you read that right) I was ready to go home and go to bed. Lesson number three. Sometimes it's a lot more interesting to say "yes" than it is to say "no". Instead I went to see Cypress Hill, hung out with my sister and some assorted radio folk, and laughed so hard I nearly choked on my beer!
The next day turned out to be a mini pseudo high school reunion. If a high school reunion could be like this, I would actually attend. If we were to ever have one, that is. Lesson number four. People change. Obvious, I know, but sometimes epiphanies about obvious things are the most amazing kind. Sometimes people changing sucks, I'm well aware. But sometimes it's the coolest thing ever. People you were only kind of friends with become close friends, and people you never really hung out with turn out to be awesome in ways you'd never expect. That's exactly what happened that day, and the brightness that it gave me hasn't faded in the least!
The rest of the vacation was just as amazing as the first few days. Joan Jett and The Blackhearts (awesome and hysterical), The Offspring, The Heavy (AMAZING! I love them more now than I did before), more old friends reappearing, a backyard fireworks display that rivaled a small city's, and a 4th of July BBQ with family (complete with a spectacular loss in cards, and money, to Great Uncle Ted). I had crazy amounts of fun, got less than four hours of sleep a night, and still had more energy than I remember having in pretty much forever. (I was away so much that my mom had a hard time telling me she was glad I came home.) Lesson number five. Live every moment to the fullest. I feel like I got closer to being able to do that on this vacation than I ever have before. Now I just have to figure out how to drag that into regular life!
Plus, I got books from people! I'm always impressed when people can suggest a book that I can really get into, and oddly touched when they give one to me, whether or not they want it back. It's that much more impressive to me when it comes from someone who may not know me particularly well. I feel like that means they actually pay attention, and that seems so rare. There are a few different lessons inherent in that, but I'll let you work them out for yourself. (I can't do everything for you!)
My last night in town ended with amazing conversation with my sister on the roof of her apartment building (and corn nuts, cheese curds, and wine). We talked about music, friends, what we want from life, what we have to offer the world, and what comes next. We decided that maybe everyone goes through life blind, and the answer isn't necessarily to find your way through, but to become comfortable in the dark. Lesson number six. Faith. In myself, in other people, in the universe. Everything is the way that it should be.
That doesn't mean I was ready to leave.
To living life in a way that's worth the read.
*Thanks to Amanda for the quote, Sheila for the picture, and everyone who made this a phenomenal vacation.
I'm pretty sure I went back the year before last, but I don't remember much of it. It was a pretty rotten time in my life, and I tended to hide. A lot. So while I could look up a list of shows and tell you what I might have gone to see, I really don't know that I left my parents' house much that year.
Last year was a completely different story. I saw Rusted Root, Rancid, Rise Against, The BoDeans, and I don't even know who else. (I did mention the beer, right?) I danced and sang in the rain. I hung out with my niece and nephew. I got to take my entire family to a baseball game. I drank excessive amounts of alcohol, probably more than I had in the entire previous year. I went to the Greek Festival, got drunk (actually I think the drunk came first and just continued all night), and rode bumper cars with friends from high school. That was easily the weirdest night of that vacation, and one of the most memorable. (If anyone ever decides they need to show you their favorite porn, make sure you know how to turn it off before they pass out. Otherwise you end up awkwardly passing out on a couch to strange noises.) I saw a few old friends that I hadn't seen in years, and even reconnected with some that I thought I had lost. (I also nearly destroyed a friendship, but that's a different story.) I spent so little time at home that I know my mom got a little frustrated. I had more fun than I'd had in a VERY long time. It was a nice reminder that I could have fun again. Something I desperately needed at the time. None the less, at the end of that trip, I remember being ready to go home to CA and rejoin my life.
This year, when I got on the plane to go back, I had a little talk with myself. Mostly it centered around the idea that I shouldn't get my hopes up. While I fully expected to have a good time, I couldn't realistically imagine that it could possibly be as fun as the year before. Lesson number one. Never underestimate the power and knowledge of the universe. I got so very much more than I expected, more than I thought I needed, and more than I might have thought I deserved before it all happened!
I landed within minutes of my best friend, and we went to pick up a rental car. (The car was a fantastic decision that I think will be repeated for every trip from here on out.) Lesson number two. Patience. A recurring theme throughout this vacation, and I can't say that I made much progress on it. I suppose that's why it was recurring. Anyway, I forget sometimes that, even though LA has a pretty laid back vibe, things around here just get done fast. It doesn't feel like everyone's always rushed, just that there are other things to get done, and the sooner the better. Now WI isn't quite deep south slow, but it's definitely a different pace. People are more chatty and less urgent. It was an adjustment that I'm not sure I ever quite mastered. Also, it's not nice to laugh at the man at the counter when he offers you a GPS system. Not that it was really needed, but telling him I was pretty sure I remembered my way around guaranteed immediate lostness.
After random driving and mom visiting and beer cheese soup for dinner (yes, you read that right) I was ready to go home and go to bed. Lesson number three. Sometimes it's a lot more interesting to say "yes" than it is to say "no". Instead I went to see Cypress Hill, hung out with my sister and some assorted radio folk, and laughed so hard I nearly choked on my beer!
The next day turned out to be a mini pseudo high school reunion. If a high school reunion could be like this, I would actually attend. If we were to ever have one, that is. Lesson number four. People change. Obvious, I know, but sometimes epiphanies about obvious things are the most amazing kind. Sometimes people changing sucks, I'm well aware. But sometimes it's the coolest thing ever. People you were only kind of friends with become close friends, and people you never really hung out with turn out to be awesome in ways you'd never expect. That's exactly what happened that day, and the brightness that it gave me hasn't faded in the least!
The rest of the vacation was just as amazing as the first few days. Joan Jett and The Blackhearts (awesome and hysterical), The Offspring, The Heavy (AMAZING! I love them more now than I did before), more old friends reappearing, a backyard fireworks display that rivaled a small city's, and a 4th of July BBQ with family (complete with a spectacular loss in cards, and money, to Great Uncle Ted). I had crazy amounts of fun, got less than four hours of sleep a night, and still had more energy than I remember having in pretty much forever. (I was away so much that my mom had a hard time telling me she was glad I came home.) Lesson number five. Live every moment to the fullest. I feel like I got closer to being able to do that on this vacation than I ever have before. Now I just have to figure out how to drag that into regular life!
Plus, I got books from people! I'm always impressed when people can suggest a book that I can really get into, and oddly touched when they give one to me, whether or not they want it back. It's that much more impressive to me when it comes from someone who may not know me particularly well. I feel like that means they actually pay attention, and that seems so rare. There are a few different lessons inherent in that, but I'll let you work them out for yourself. (I can't do everything for you!)
My last night in town ended with amazing conversation with my sister on the roof of her apartment building (and corn nuts, cheese curds, and wine). We talked about music, friends, what we want from life, what we have to offer the world, and what comes next. We decided that maybe everyone goes through life blind, and the answer isn't necessarily to find your way through, but to become comfortable in the dark. Lesson number six. Faith. In myself, in other people, in the universe. Everything is the way that it should be.
That doesn't mean I was ready to leave.
To living life in a way that's worth the read.
*Thanks to Amanda for the quote, Sheila for the picture, and everyone who made this a phenomenal vacation.
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)