So, a couple observations I’ve made re my little blog: I don’t write enough because I tend to get locked into the idea that everything I write has to be epic and have a ♥ tag and be a work of relentless genius. So as of today I’m going to try to correct that. The friend who got me started on blogging gave me the advice that I should write something every day. I don’t know if I will be able to do that, but I will try to write more posts and worry less about trying to be Marcel Proust.
There will, at some point, be a long post in which I talk about Boodles and Tania’s visit and how it has affected me (or is it effected? I never know) but until then, look at the picture above and you’ll get a pretty good idea of how I’ve felt since seeing Boodles off a week ago.
Late on Friday night, after Boodles had gone to bed Tania and I sat down with my sister and brother-in-law. Since I haven’t given them noms de blog yet, I’m going to call them Iris and Harley. These names make sense to me based on aspects of their personalities, that way I’ll remember them. I’ll go back and retcon past blog posts, or at least tag them with these new names.
We had a good talk about my progress and some of the problems I had in California. Tania is excellent at explaining my situation because of her psychology training, her own experiences with depression, and her close observation of me in the last few years of our marriage. She explained my shit so well that I told her later on that I wished I had recorded it.
Harley was the first person to say that he felt that, based on my progress and the hurdles I still have to jump – financially and otherwise, that he didn’t feel like it was realistic for me to expect to be able to go back to California for good anytime soon. Just a few days earlier I had made a monumentally boneheaded move right in front of Boodles and Tania and only God’s grace kept the circumstances from being catastrophic, I’ll get more into the details in my longer post.
Everybody agreed with that assessment, and I knew that it was probably true, but it made me cry. It made my good-bye to Boodles at the airport even harder, because I didn’t have the fictional idea in my head that I will be able to be with her in Cal soon.
See above picture.
When I was younger, despite absolutely no musical ability I used to toy with the idea of writing songs. I still do sometimes, I’ll get pieces of lyrics that I think aren’t half bad. One line that I’ve often said to people is…
The truth must sometimes break your heart
Before it sets you free
In this case I might amend it to “the truth must sometimes smack you in the kisser.” In this case when I saw this photo on Flickr it was a bit like Proust’s petite madeleine, it reminded me of how I feel and why I need to write about it more regularly. The truth is one tough MFer, but maybe I’m tough enough to stand up to it. I hope so.