imperfect timing

M thinks Kerrie's priorities are out of whack, is how a friend's status update on facebook read yesterday. I'd previously put up a status about hoping that the detroit tigers would beat the st louis cardinals in that day's game, and this was his st-louisan-turned-new-yorker response.

thanks to the 'convenience' of facebook's ability to oversaturate its users with updates on other people's information, I saw his update as soon as I signed in. I will refrain from a rant based on the "news feed" and "mini-feed" at the present time. instead, I will focus on the fact that I was hit fairly hard by his comment for two reasons:

one.
M isn't really a friend. in fact, he's someone I stopped talking to abruptly after I figured out that he'd broken my heart practically on purpose eight years ago. he just found me on facebook, and already I find myself sucked into a pattern that I've been sucked into by three other people before: a jumble of minor unresolved feelings and sympathy mixed with the hope that maybe I can right this situation through forgiveness and casual conversation. I've already got one of those in real life in st louis, and I resent taking it on. why do I need another - one that is clearly unfolding in a predictable manner - via the internet?

two.
my priorities truly are currently out of whack. I work two jobs because I don't get enough satisfaction out of either to justify working just one or the other. I spend money without regard to actual finances or future situations. I have a vague goal on the one end of my life, and plenty of little ones in between here and there, but I am doing nothing truly productive on any of those things. I love watching fry roll in the grass though it's like mentally pulling teeth to want to come home to let him out. I bemoan internally about the amount and kind of attention I get from certain people in my life, yet when they give it, I push them away. and finally, as stated above, I take on old friends and situations when I know they're just a psychic trap!

but how is it that he ends up being the one to point this out? granted, it was a completely unrelated and off-hand remark, but why him and why now?

the inside of my head feels a lot like my apartment right now: disheveled messes that get cleaned up on a whim, or a little at a time, but never enough to make a true impact. on one hand, I like the chaos of it and what it all really is, but on the other hand, I'd kind of like to pack a bag, get in my car, and go somewhere else to start clean.

I mean, really, figuring out the former would exponentially help me resolve the latter, but it's making myself do both of these things - on and with purpose! - that's apparently so hard lately.

try to be more alive

I walked fry through an alley today. not the safest place for my little shoeless dog, but I was multi-tasking - taking out the bathroom trash and taking him out for his morning walk. he likes the alley, despite the glass and sometimes sketchy visitors, probably because of the smells and squirrels who roam freely there. I like the alley because walking through it causes me to find my way back to my street from a different location... and I get a different view of tower grove park or my neighborhood.

but today, I actually enjoyed it because of the single orange daylily growing out of a crack between the concrete of a driveway and a neighboring house's garage. I thought, what a brave and adaptable little plant! and so pretty! I thought basically the same thing when I fell in love with these particular flowers over two summers spent in michigan. I can remember a night of camping in sleeping bear national dunes, coming over a dune and into the forest to see another lonely orange daylily among the shaded dunegrass. or when I'd walk daily past the lemon-colored bunch on the hill before my lake cottage the next summer. and now, as I leave my apartment in the early summer, there is a whole group of them standing almost taller than me that I like to watch open and close with the sunlight of the day. they're my favorite blips of bright colors in what can be completely green-brown-black landscape.

so thank you, wikipedia, for informing me that this flower is not only NOT considered a true lily (which is sad, because I very much like lilies), but is also an invasive species to north america. that explains its ability to thrive in a concrete crack or crappy sandy soil: it will bully its way through an ecosystem just to live... and to delight most casual viewers with its beauty.

somewhere in my brain I'm forming an intelligent metaphor for what remains one of my favorite sights. something about adapting to organizational redesign, to living life authentically in the face of social norms, or persisting through rough patches in relationships...

but I can't quite get it out yet.

fell off the soapbox

I got my first standing ovation when I was thirteen. I didn't think I deserved it... afterall, all I did was raise my voice and slam my clipboard down while making my final speech during a debate I knew I'd lost. my evidence was thin and weakly supported by the journals of the early nineties, but I knew in my being that I was right; that my partner and I had picked the stance of liberals, of animal rights activists, of adventurous and caring people, of the future. we'd denounced urban sprawl, and all of its related ills - overpopulation, new development in favor of rehabilitation, single-occupant - and we were ready to fight about it.

three weeks ago, while walking fry around the outside perimeter of the missouri botanical gardens, I saw a pair of foxes cross magnolia and slide through the mobot fence. fry freaked out a little, as did the man walking our way who had never seen a fox in real life. I, on the other hand, had a happy little time remembering the fox who lived not far from my cottage at camp and relishing in yet another "perk" of city living: when I can see sights I'm used to in the middle of the desert or on the lakeshore in the middle of my urban situation. like foxes, I see stars, lilies, lightning bugs, and herons, and am instantly somewhere else. maybe some of these things aren't necessarily solely found in more rural areas than st louis, but the association is there, and for me it's a nice little escape.

I used to take drives for escapes when I lived elsewhere. in phoenix, it was to downtown and parks where I knew the homeless residents. in michigan, it was getting lost on back roads and finding my way back again before dark. but now, I find myself the owner of what my eighth grade debate partner would have called an "over-sized predator, a metal beast" that drinks more gas than I can afford, so I rely on small moments on the metrolink and walks through tower grove park for the sights I miss.

during my commutes of late, my radio listening has consisted of NPR discussions about environmental change and oil outrage, which has made me even less inclined to drive. I am now finally agreeing with the rest of the gas-consuming majority: while the american misuse of fuel is outrageous, so is the price of a gallon of gas.

all of these things came together last night when I rolled past an orange-ish brown lump on the shoulder of my street. the smaller of the pair of foxes lay pristinely dead just across from where I'd first seen her, and I suddenly wondered what I'd done to help or hurt the little being's situation. I may not have killed her personally, but I'm sure that somewhere my "footprint" did.

with all of that, I am left with the mental picture of my younger self behind that podium, blushing and wondering if I deserved the applause. if I didn't deserve it then, do I deserve it now? where did I leave the conviction I had when I'd started subscribing to the three modern R's? did I believe it, or did I just slam the clipboard to get a reaction?

lame, lamenting, & venting

a short list of things I find unsatisfactory today:

• the amount of sleep I got last night.
• the number of places to buy small vegetarian snacks in the central west end.
• the notice given by my landlord of the upcoming improvements to my building.
• the new ad placements on my favorite website.
• the cold I seem to be getting.
• the post-it note that has gone missing.

a short list of things I miss today:

• the unpredictability of lakeside living.
• the familiarity of working with other people in a group setting, and all of the people I used to work with (well, almost).
• the space afforded by basements and garages and backyards.
• the carefree attitudes of summers.
• the ease of certain kitchen appliances.
• the ability to daydream as, but also be, a possibility junkie.

a short list of things I am annoyed with today:

• the fact that I left some checks for deposit on my dresser, when I work three blocks from my bank.
• the nosiness of one of my co-workers and how it contributed to me spilling water all over myself.
• the thought that it might just cost me as much in gas money to catch the metrolink to work.
• the task at hand at work today - of putting nebulous and tiny things on paper to justify what I do.

I'm not really crabby today, but from everything I have to say, it must look like I am. time to find something to laugh about...