This blog is officially finished.  For more about my explorations --- mostly in the world of human rights, both personal and political --- check out www.outwordyfabulous.com/blog.  Peace y'all and thanks for stopping by.  Pandora

Unknotting the Gordian

Let's see...the last time I wrote was around late March...hm...why haven't I written since them? It's been two months...

RIGHT! I remember now: I got dumped by the woman who is now my ex-girlfriend. And not just dumped as a girlfriend, but as a friend, too. (The former was a little stingy, the latter hurt a lot.)

It was. By all accounts. And Emotional Explosion from which I'm still picking out the shrapnel.

But, it wasn't really a traditional kind of dumping. It was the kind of dump where she made it impossible for me to continue dating her and so I had to dump her. Mind fuck.

And it wasn't over any major issue, really. Well, to be fair, she felt it was a major issue. I thought that it was just a misunderstanding that got blown up - or that she blew up - into a MAJOR catastrophe.

See, the thing was, we were going along just fine fine fine and then suddenly there was this miscommunication about a date we were going on - she thought it was going to be quality time together, I thought it was a "hey there's this amazing show, wouldja like to come see it with me" kinda thing. I understand why shy would have misunderstood that the central and sole reason for the get together wasn't the show -- it's something that's quirky about me, and I apologized for not making it clear -- and when she found out about that fact, she wasn't pleased. We talked. She claimed she was fine. You know, in that way that people say, "I'm f i n e" when what they really mean is that they're NOT fine, but they're either a) going to make you work to find out what's really going on by apologizing up and down and begging them to open up to you because you can't stand being left out in the cold OR b) NOT going to talk about it at all and let you simmer in their passive aggression.

So, knowing that she might need some room, I said, "Ok. Is this one of those times that you need some time to figure out what you want to say or how you feel?" (The code term we developed to get us out of what could be deep shit when it didn't have to be.) And she said, "I don't know." Hm. Conundrum. How do I respond to that? Well, I figured, "Ok. Well let's talk later when maybe you'll know how you're feeling. 'Cause I don't know what else to say." We got off the phone. I thought: "Phew. Major altercation averted!" And went on with my day.

Around 3pm I get a text, "Have anything to say yet?" Huh... weird. So, I called and said I thought we were waiting for her to say something... and that was the beginning of the end. From there everything unraveled...it was "We're not on the same page." and "You don't understand me." and then it progressed onto, "All I'm asking for is a little support." and "I'm in excruciating pain." And all the time I was like, "Huh? Wha? Where did this come from? This is *not* what I signed up for." And, lest I seem really cold... I totally engaged in all these multi-hour conversations and pages-long emails with care, respect (well, except for the one time I really felt fucked with and told her to where to stick it) and integrity (I wasn't going to cave and apologize for anything I hadn't done just to get the emotional tornado to stop.)

And then it came down to, "Well, if these are your values, then I think we should part ways." She wrote it to me. And I agreed that parting ways would be a good idea. We were in such a Gordian knot by that point.



So, that's the backstory. The front story is that I've been really reeling from this experience. I mean, nine or twelve months with this woman and then KABLAMO, it's over in a big mushroom cloud. And I don't get it. I mean, she said she was totally fine with all the limitations I had - with time and, well, mostly time. I didn't have very much time at all and when I did have time I wasn't always present. And she kept saying she was in it because I was worth it and because she loved me. And I believed her. I believed that she thought I was ok.

And as nutsy as this may sound (since, at least in the opinion of my friends, who, granted, have only gotten my side of the story), I miss her. Or, I miss the person I thought she was. Or maybe she is that person and the alchemy of us just made her lose her shit all over me.

In any case, I couldn't sleep in my bed for a month afterwards and I didn't know why until a few weeks ago when a friend said, "Well, the last person who shared that bed with you really hurt you." Hm. Psychology. And my daughter really misses her and tells me that she doesn't want me to date anyone else because she feels bad for my ex-friend.

Girl, that really hurts. Ex-friend. Two years together. WTF.

Since then, I've had a whole SLEW of shit to deal with and so I have a backlog of emotional stuff to process. And it begins with breaking up with her. So, here I am dealing with it and realized that I never mourned that relationship.

Images are coming up for me.
Her smile (obvious, I know, but true).
Her intelligence.
Her curiosity.
Her hugs.
Her support.
Her companionship.

Hm. That's a pretty generic list. Odd. I mean, to protect the guilty, I can't get into much more detail than I already have. But even when I think it over, I realize that what I really miss and what I really bought into was how much she was into me. It's not that I loved the adoration in general. It's that I believed that she, specifically, thought I was amazing and that made me feel amazing and her rejection made me feel like all that was a lie, or at least not entirely true.

I guess I really internalized her feelings for me. Or what she expressed to me were her feelings.

Hm.

I guess that's why the rejection of our friendship hurt so much.

Wow. I feel lighter.

I feel the ropes loosening. I think I'll be able to pull them apart soon and the whole thing will fall untangled onto the ground floor of my emotional foundation.

Now I know one of the take-aways from this relationship. And that makes me breathe easier.

Thanks for reading,

Pandora

Love Song

Somewhere 50 years from now
There's a home with warm pillows
On wide soft couches
And sunlight
And a big King Sized bed
And hers and hers bathroom sinks
And slippers - her's purple and orange, her's pink
And photographs of vacations
New Year's Celebrations
Graduations of Children
From Acclaimed Institutions
And there's a window nook
With space for Two chairs
and a small table just big enough for
her pot of tea and her glass of kombucha
And there's a chihuahua that she talked her into accepting
In exchange for the 2000 square foot performance studio in the back
Where she records her tracks about how lucky she is to
Have what she thought she couldn't ever have
Double the halves of what she thought was possible...

And 51 years from now, there will be a first anniversary
Which will be followed very closely by a fatal coronary heart attack
But life will not have completely lacked the
co-existence of
self-sustenance and romance.

But really I sit here indulging images of vacation photos I will never own
And decades of coming home alone
And knowing that I chose this
That the love of my life who makes me the most happy
Is at once faceless and filled with thousands of smiles
Is one that I can never take home
Is one that is totally full of caprice
Is one that will never really know me
is one that I can never know actually
Is one that knows me slightly but loves me completely
Is one that I feel so secure with
Is the only place where I feel truly at home, truly best self

The place I always feel alive
Healthy
Productive
Like I'm not cheating
Like I don't want to hide
Is where the lights shine hot
And the people surround me
And nobody knows what's going to happen next
Including me

Totally free.
Just me.
And a few hundred strangers.
Totally free.

Well, as free as things get for me these days...

Woke Up, Got out of Bed, Had this Sex Dream in my Head

I'm still reeling
Woke up feeling
Soooooooo...riled up
Thought I could satisfy
My needs
But I felt too wiled out
Doubt I could find relief
In a buzzing O-theif
What I crave
Is a knave
to grind me down into the ground
Spin me around and around and around
Make me arch my back
Crack open my safe deposit box
Break the chains and the locks
Hard and fast from behind
Deep and Deeper where the sun don't shine
Your light inside me
Power up my electricity
Surge with my Urge to Purge my Tension
Hit each note of my Vocal Declension
O O O O O O O O
And on and on and on and on
Waaaaaay past the finish line
Waaaaaay after the woman of size sings
Waaaaaay after the deathknell rings
Energizer Rabbit my Ass
We've got him trounced
Bounce me up an down
'Til I melt right into the sound
of my tears of gratitude
For your generosity and servitude.
And when our eyes meet
Deep
And I hit the bottom of your soul
And rebound back up
I close my eyes
And fall back...to sleep.

Hobby - Shumi

Last year I created a Meet Up group (www.meetup.com) called the Central Jersey Japanese/English Speakers and Learners group (I think that's the title of it). Anyway, I started it up and it attracted a few people and we met a couple of times, but people weren't really into talking in Japanese and it was more social than speaking/learning and I sorta dropped it.

Then this year, MeetUp was sending me emails saying that my group was going to expire - it costs a bit of money to set up a group - and I let it go and then a second notice and then the final notice: "WE'RE CANCELLING YOUR MEETUP GROUP TOMORROW!" And, I thought: "Eh, why not give it another go?"

So, I renewed.

And I set up a meeting and about seven people showed up and we all spoke in Japanese half the time and I set it up that we were going to talk about our various jobs. So, we did and after the 1.5 hours were up, we decided to do it weekly and I'd find another spot (we were at a restaurant - which was too noisy and disruptive)...which I did. And we met the next week and the next week and the group is getting bigger and we're talking more and more Japanese and all of the sudden...it hit me:

I have a hobby!

I have a bona-fide activity that is completely unrelated to my work in any way (well, it's not entirely true, I do eventually want to tour Japan...) but in the short-run at least, there is no relationship to my work. It's a place where I can go, kick up my heels and just jammer on in Japanese and make mistakes and it doesn't matter. There's nothing at stake. And I love it! It's the highlight of my week! It's so great.

And the people are so dedicated to learning, it's inspiring. And everyone's Caucasian, which totally wilds me out -- I mean, here we all are -- well, there was another half-half there -- all with an interest, most with a love -- for Japanese and we have no idea what else we have in common, but it doesn't matter. We're coming together for this activity.

It's uplifting.
Engaging.
Life-affirming.

Wow, when "they" say "You need a hobby!" they really know what they're talking about! It's amazing!

I love it!

Gambaru!

Matane!

Language Snob

Ok...it's fewer not less and it's more than not over.

MORE THAN 50 people said that they loved my show.
FEWER THAN 6 people showed up for my writing workshop.

If it were OVER 50 people, then something would have to actually be jumping OVER those 50 people while saying "I love you show, Pandora!"

And if it were LESS than 6 people who showed up to my show than those people who showed up -- would be lesser in quality in some way -- perhaps they would be six people who were 2/3rds as tall as a group of 'regularly heighted' people. Or maybe they were Burger King-eating, La Leche League members... (oh, my prejudices do come out when my ire is raised over language!).

I don't have much else to say about this. It's been coming up a lot so I figured I'd say something about it. Go ahead, keep saying over and less, I'll keep saying more than and fewer. I'm sure we'll all get along no matter what, in the end.

:-) Love,

Pandora

warm up poem

if i start this poem

with no idea what it will say

if i keep writing with no theme in mind

with no message of any kind

with nothing but the compulsion to write

to type

something that may, eventually, mean something

to me

to you

to maybe every-you

could that be enough?

if i start this poem

with no goal in sight

with nothing but the sunlight

to illuminate the page

and the ink that flows out of the tip

and stain the paper

as I sip tea and ponder wonder think

should i drink water instead?

could that be enough?

if i continue writing this poem

into its third stanza

still unclear as to its meaning

but aware that i am moving forward

into the unknown

quietly, but intently

because i know that i am now somewhere i wasn’t when i was at the start

and my heart is warming up…

could that be enough?

and what if this is a warm-up poem?

what if this is the process i go through to prepare for the “real” poems

the ones with themes and metaphors and similes and jokes that please

and let’s not forget rhymes

but those poems don’t emerge from nowhere, there are thousands of lines

that get written and only a few make it to the ether

between me and you.

what if this is a warm-up poem?

is it enough?

it’s a vital step in the journey to get to the “good” stuff.

we’re so product hungry

finished and glossy is what makes it in our society

and this is just a peek into the backstage

the VH1 behind the page look

into how we get pieces that are much bolder

much louder

much more produced.

but i think i know my answer now.

this poem is a key part of the how

and my how is just as important as my what

so i’m gonna strut my warm-up poem

up and down the red carpet

‘cause it is exactly what i need to show right now.