Bear with me while I revisit 21

I'm in the middle of one of Meredith's books (#2 of 3 fantastic jewels under my bed), and it's really the perfect type of book for me: The philosophical fantasy adventure. Also the protagonist is a doctoral student with various strategies for surviving on a few bucks a week whilst having various sex-capades, an appealing sort of person to me. A) Because I don't have a messed up sex life or unhealthy relationships and, much more importantly, B) Being a doctoral student is one of my deepest and well hidden fantasies. It's that life I didn't choose, the one I was bred for (makes me sound like a horse to say it like that).

Alright, I'm being a little dramatic. I wasn't bred for anything, I certainly didn't have the sort of upper middle class magnet school upbringing a lot of my classmates at MIT had. But I am the oldest child. And not only that, the oldest cousin. Once upon a time there was a lot of pride heaped upon my shoulders. Everyone thought I was going to be great. I was a smart kid. No genius, but quick, and a good entertainer (until puberty caught up with me). So one of the corners of my triangle is an ambitious achiever with lifelong exposure to academia. The second corner fantasizes about living in a utopia, an ecovillage full of like-minded individuals that hosts educational workshops and relaxing retreats whilst practicing and surviving on the permaculture way of life. Naked babies run around. People take drugs for spiritual enlightenment, in healthy warm environments. A whole educational system following the Circle School (Harrisburg, PA) form of education is formed for the myriad children of the greater community. The third point looks upon the utopia with pessimistic practicality, and the ambitious academic with forlorn failure, and, lacking a strong desire to make much of any choice, becomes an administrator. It doesn't really matter in what industry, because all administrators, personal assistants, executive assistants, and receptionists have the same job.

I know this is the central dilemma in my life. I always come back to it when I'm having philosophical thoughts. I can see it more for what it is these days, the discord between what I "should" have been (You're WASTING your EDUCATION!), what I fantasize about, and the sad reality of running in circles. It's not quite that simple, because what I fantasize about is not even necessarily what I want. I like to think of the utopia as an easy out, a "Well this is what I really want and it is impossible, so I don't have to choose to do anything because there's nothing else I really want." But being able to think about the whole stupid issue rationally does not make the pain any less sharp. I can listen and understand Kris' easy philosophy of, "You don't have to pick any one thing, do whatever you want, change careers 5 times, but just have fun." until my eyes bug out, but understanding something does not mean actually living it. We all know that! That's why so much education fails. You really have to live it, and come across it again on your own, before it has enough power over you to change your life. Most words have so little power, whizzing about in the air and raining down upon thousands, until they find the perfect target to stick on and stay.

I was wrong, there is a fourth corner to my triangle. The corner that says maybe the perfect situation will fall into my lap sometime soon. A friend of a friend will be impressed by my analytical abilities, my way with language, my philosophical musings, and give me a job that will eventually lead to better and better jobs, taking full advantage of my mind. A position that helps people, and uses science, and utopian ideals. It won't be an instant success of course, but I will have the foresight to see that the first job will be a door to a new universe, one with meaning and goals. It will be very hard work, maybe starting off with crappy hours, tedious tasks or low pay, but will quickly be promoted to new jobs that don't even have definitions they are so new. The kind of jobs I will be inventing as I go along, jobs that don't exist yet in 2008. A job that lets me take 6 month spiritual journeys every few years, that understands and supports a mother's desire to raise her children when they are very young.

Who am I kidding, this is starting to sound even more utopian than the utopia!

Anyway, since these corners of the (square) triangle are all unsatisfying in one way or another, I am going to return to school as a physician's assistant or nutritionist very soon, as soon as I find a good, scientifically rigorous program. It's yet another compromise, but one done with forethought. It's kind of a compromise between a compromise (secretary) and an ideal (ambitious academic): An ipromise? comprodeal? COMPRIDEAL. That's it, that's the new word for 2008. A strategic career or life move taking advantage both of practicality and ideals. Kind of like marriage.

It's funny that the rest of my life keeps getting better and better: My relationship, friends, and way of life outside of work are awesome. I'm surrounded by so much love. I get to travel and go on adventures, I'm getting better and better at interacting in social situations without alcohol, I'm starting to really enjoy just listening to people, I have great realistic fantasies about having a baby, I'm getting better and better about my health, I went to yoga twice this week, my friends are all achieving great things and are super talented people, I'm getting better at dancing, poi, performance, humor.... It's this one niggling area that keeps getting worse and worse while everything else rockets off into a dazzling future. It sounds ridiculous when I put it like this doesn't it. A) Because I shouldn't be complaining about a golden life like this and B) Because I obviously have the tools available for change, why can't I apply it to CAREER?

Obviously this whole "society expects you to go to college and "succeed" thing isn't working for humanity. We need to get rid of it before we infect a new generation with inadequacy.

Monday:

A hazy fuzzy birthday. Last night at the park was great, thanks so much everyone for coming and covering yourself in stickers. I wore a new red dress and it was perfect. I can't remember a better birthday. It started drizzling for about 5 seconds, which made the return of the sun more thrilling. We're really living dangerously here folks! Hardcore. EXTREME!

There is a small girl running quietly around my office which makes me wish I had kept some of those stickers last night. Young boys, if you want to win a girl's heart, give her stickers, preferably textured or sparkly ones. She'll forget all those times you made fun of her (but maybe not the time you pulled down your pants in her backyard.)

Tonight Francisco is taking me to Crazy Horse for my "real" birthday. I'll try not to drink too much. Things were NOT GOOD when I first woke up today. I'm good now though, moving very slowly which is actually really lovely for my job. Nothing is boring when you channel a turtle. I'm getting paid for being a blurry hazy stone! Life is good.

I feel extra grateful to have friends who clean up after my parties, make sure my presents make it home, wear the ugly wig I bought, and take me out for late night Sunday drinking (not all done by the same friends).

Damn it, I left my coat in someone's car AGAIN! Last weekend I left it with Brenda + Taisuke. They brought it to the picnic, after which I promptly left it in Brett's car. I'm sorry coat! I miss you, let's get back together one last time! I won't hurt you baby, promise.

Where did I put the antiseptic

Last night I finally started reading Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance. One of those books probably everyone here already read in college, but still, it's good to have someone read a good book later on, because then everyone else can be reminded of how good it was and reapply or rethink its principles to their new 2008 lives. I like how the author talks about digging deeper rather than wider. I travel all over the world looking for... something, so I'm probably one of the widest diggers out there. Most of my friends enjoy high-adventure lifestyles, jobs, travel, drugs, so they can understand where I'm coming from.

The thing that strikes me the most about this book is how gentle it is. Slowly easing in. Also, it makes me want to ride a motorcycle, one of those things I find exciting but also too dangerous and impractical so I always write it off. I write off a lot of things, but that doesn't make me a bad person, it's just how I cope with a world that has too much information. I can't take the whole list at once. And I can only worry about one charity at a time. Some people are better at doing more, but I am better at doing less. You could say I'm cold and uncaring, but you could also say I am essential. :)

I find it funny that back in the day I was considered a cold person, because now all I ever talk about are feelings! Also, I am very good at crying, so if anyone wants to have a good cry this weekend at the party I'll encourage you and be right there with you. We can cry until we crave pickles and anchovies. You will never feel better. Your body is your first aid kit.

Why Francisco is Awesome

Last night I finally realized my dream of being in the same room as Brett Mckenzie. Thank you Francisco. It was about 95 degrees inside Hawthorne, but with Brett there the temperature could only be cool cool cool. Francisco almost convinced Hana, Brett's partner, that if she came to San Francisco we could find a gig for her to DJ at (a reasonable assumption. She would be great for some chill morning after music.), and if SHE came, maybe HE would come too. Hey, it's between NZ and New York, he needs to pass through there anyway.

I also had amazing Thai food at Siam Reap. Thank you again Francisco. Can't believe I've never been there, it's 8 minutes from my apartment.

That boy is putting some serious effort into this. I am impressed. I don't generally get wooed, affairs of my heart have generally been pretty chill compared to the mainstream mythology of what romance is all about. Ever since disasterously dating one of my drama club colleagues in high school, I've gravitated towards the easy to talk to, be silent with, do nothing with, low-drama kind of guy. It suits me in most ways, but it's nice being wooed.

Jillian on Project Runway seems to be a reasonable person. It's nice to see that all the unreasonability of high school left not only my building, but everyone else's. I keep thinking my friends are getting cooler, but maybe they're just getting older.

YOU are invited internet

27 years ago, my 27 year old mother gave birth. I'm
celebrating my birthday outdoors, and you should join
me!

Where: Sound Shell, the Botanic Gardens
When: Sunday, January 27th. Odessa starts performing
at 8, but I'm going to be there between 4 and 5 to set
up a nice spot for us all. Coming early means good
parking and good food for you too.
What: Food, drinks, arts & crafts, music, dancing,
toys

Wear your favorite color or your favorite hat, bring
your favorite food, toy or person. If the weather
decides to be a hater I'm having a craft party
instead, call me if you're not sure. Hopefully it will
be beautiful, and hopefully you, my favorite people,
can make it.

Love,

Vanessa

Written on Tuesday

I read Siddartha by Herman Hesse again yesterday (it's a very tiny book). It's a quiet book, the kind where you read a paragraph and then sit quietly, not even really thinking about the book, thinking simple things. It made me desire to: sit by a river for a day. fast. make my own mistakes. sleep outdoors. simplify.

I'm always yammering about simplifying. Sometimes it seems it's all I think about. Does everyone's head churn around and around "the right way to live" over and over like mine does? My progress is questionable at best, but I sure like to talk about it a lot. I often convince myself to desire what other people desire, and I think that's where a lot of my anxiety comes from. I don't want these things as much as others do, so I have a hard time getting them (re: Brick walls are there to stop the people who don't want it badly enough) but I want them enough to feel frustrated by my inability to get them. I should really pay more attention to what I have that other's don't. My core is a philosopher. She knows a lot of things. She likes to think about things that are very hard for her. She's shown me that I can survive in almost any conditions without loss of self. Sometimes she leaves for a while but she always returns.

There! That's something!

A lot of my friends are amazing artists. I really appreciate that. Allen keeps posting on his blog about his doubts, and then he posts amazing pictures like they are so many grains of sand. Allen, you are an amazing artist. Who cares what your motivation is? I think a lot of people who need to do art to live are kinda faking it anyway. Eventually they would find a way to live without art, just as we can live for a month without food. You think you're not getting a lot done but you are. The pictures of produce in a square pan and the brocolli forest are like cartoon fantasies of food. I don't want to eat it, I want to run around in it wearing cartoon wings. My artistic ambition is to jump into your photos and live in your beautiful world.

I always used to think New Years resolutions were a waste of time, a Hallmark card version of self-improvement, but it makes me tear up thinking about what Joe is doing for his. Maybe all of existence has been written by Hallmark. Someday someone will gather a collection of cards and make a new bible out of them. Maybe in the post-apocalyptic future, when the collective memory has forgotten the definition of corny, those cards will be thought of as written by a great sage.

Purging: not just for bulimics

The headache finally left the building today, and I'm left feeling unusually relaxed. I like listening to your stories when this mood strikes, so please, talk all night while I lie back and close my eyes. Anything other than dream summaries is acceptable.

Today I had a vivid image in my head of the anxiety I often carry around with me. It's like if I found a dirty napkin on the ground, and lovingly, gently, dampened it with my tongue and then methodically balled it up into a perfect sphere. Then over a long period of time collected my earwax which I painstakingly and perfectly smoothed over the entire ball. And then over an even longer period of time I collected small samples from piles of cat and dog vomit, before the animals had a chance to re-eat what their stomachs had just refused, but only a small amount from each purge since too much would not dry properly on the ball. Each layer spread as thin as possible and then allowed to dry for a minimum of 2 days before the next layer is applied. At least 50 layers applied in this manner, perfectly, slowly, lovingly. And so on throughout the years, using whatever unloved refuse I happen to find on the ground or in the garbage or from a body, each layer a representation of my obsession and fear, disgusting but perfect in application. This grotesque ball that I carry deep in the pocket of a heavy canvas trench coat, walking around with my shoulders misaligned from the uneven load, occasionally showing it to horrified strangers, as if it were a precious jewel.

We had korean bbq and soju last night for James' birthday. Then Meredith bought a bottle of Moet & Chandon (which reminded me I drink too much Lindauer). James told more stories about his strange family. We talked about the US elections. Tonight will be very similar - yakitori and sake, drunken conversations with Peter about US politics. Peter is a fun ball of light to be around these days, so I'm really looking forward to it. Consistently happy people are great, but I find the extreme recovery exhibited by Peter way more awesome. I remember when Marc in college bounced back from severe depression and for about 2 weeks I was totally in love with him. The waves of euphoria coming off him were like nothing I'd ever seen outside of certain extreme artificial (and temporary) circumstances. We quickly figured out our severe romantic incompatibility, but I'll probably never forget our conversation in the MIT coffeehaus, when he instantly conveyed that the world was indeed awesome, and I remembered that reality existed beyond the stressful MIT environment.

And that's the story of the first time I fell in love, kids! Until next time, when we discuss the moment I lost God in a tree house. Come with me on my memory magic carpet (holds more than a memory stick, but less than a memory bank)!

The business of eating

Wishbone is a really good business model. Most food enterprises have not successfully captured all 4 meal markets of the day. Wishbone has reasonable breakfasts, healthy lunch options, jars of spreads/olives/nuts/sweets for when people are having afternoon tea parties and need to quickly grab some snacks, and then the real winner, take-home shrink-wrapped dinners. The dinners keep for a while, and taste better than frozen dinners, being fresher and not frozen. I still haven't decided whether their new business approach, the larger sit-down cafe, will be as successful as their 5 million take-away only locations, but I certainly appreciate having the inaugural one in my building. The only market they haven't cornered (and don't have a chance of cornering) is the morning/afternoon tea coffee rush. If I walk half a block further, I can have the amazing coffee I've grown to expect in New Zealand. Still, even their coffee is not bad. You can sum up everything there as, "not bad."

For some reason I find myself thinking about food businesses that cater exclusively to the 9-to-5 workforce a lot lately. It's a really boring thing to do, but seems like it makes a lot of money. I have no interest in opening up one of my own, and yet I can't stop thinking about it.

Work is back to usual, but I'm finding it reasonably satisfying at the moment. I should take advantage of this career-wise positive frame of mind and start planning future things. I'm following a piece of advice I picked up in a women's interest magazine by doing this. Next magazine advised me not to think about the future during negative anxious periods; rather to turn optimism into productivity. Ha! Magazine advice: Works?

I've had an almost nonstop headache for the past week. Nothing major, but this minor persistance is something I'm not used to. I'm taking excedrin more and more frequently lately as well. I used to take one pill a week, but these days I'm taking at least four. Maybe it's time to rethink my lifestyle again, do more yoga, eat better, etc. It's funny that I know all the right things to do but still fall out of the health routine over and over. How can I hope to fix other people if I can't fix myself?

Basic and boring questions. Today is a practical and boring day. So what?

I saw Nayou again on Sunday. I can't wait until he's old enough to be more engaged with the world....that's reason enough to stay out here a few months longer! Once babies get to that age where you can play little games with them to make them laugh, they become the best thing in the world. If I stay until May he'll be 5 months old. Hmmm..... I definitely don't feel ready to leave when Joe/Kris/Francisco are in early March....right now I'm thinking mid-April....it really depends on what discount plane fares are available though. And what happens with Francisco. And how long I think I can deal with living with Mom/whether I can get a temp job on LI. I'm excited at the moment about having a NY limbo period though. I can visit Boston! See a show! Visit Vis and her new baby! Maybe my travels should center around jumping from birth to birth. Like a nonfunctional transcontinental nursemaid.

I Dream the Internet Aesthetic

I've been sick the past few days. Which is actually fine with me, it forces me to treat a vacation properly. It also results in me having long philosophical arguments on why I should or should not join Facebook.

Anyone who knows me, knows I have a pretty rigid and minimalist aesthetic. I don't like accumulation of possessions, or complicated financial matters, or unneccessary expenses. I think I've been around people who get obsessed with routines or material possessions too much, and it's made me swing in the opposite direction. This aesthetic translates into my internet behaviour as well, even when something is not logical. For example, google reader. A great invention. Do I use it? No, because my internal aesthetician says it means I will be beholden to my webpages, that they will own me. It's really retarded.

So I'm facing my decision to never use social networking sites and debating whether to join Facebook. There have been several events that have forced me to reconsider: 1) A friend got angry with me for de-friending him (he was crazy) which made me a little paranoid about someone pretending to be me 2) Others have posted pictures of me which I can't view, but instead received taunting emails from Facebook that suck me into hyperlink hell 3) Christina in Denmark invited me to join, I miss her 4)My own mother today mentioned putting all her Aruba pics on Facebook.

The problem of course with joining now is I missed the boat to join when it was new and hip many months ago, and it's not yet late enough for me to be making a ridiculous anti-cool statement (sometimes learning about something years after it happens is satisfying, don't you think?) I suppose there's no fear that Facebook will take over my life since my internet access these days is sketchy. My desire to see what people from my high school are up to is becoming overwhelming.

Alright alright. I'll join in some minimal capacity, doing whatever it takes and nothing beyond.

I suppose you might be wondering why I even bother to keep a blog if so many internet activities bother my delicate sensibility. I'm not quite sure actually. Maybe because of how flexible and basic it is. It can be anything. I write into text boxes about simple things. No more complicated than taking a shit, and just as satisfying.

Roundup

My roomate left before I even had a chance to see her, so I'm luxuriating in having the whole apartment to myself, which means I end up flitting around the place alternatively cleaning and making messes, at a much faster rate than usual. I guess I slow down a lot to avoid upsetting those around me, but when I'm alone I do a crossword for 10 minutes, then jump up to do laundry, then jump back and check email, run into the kitchen and make some tea, etc. Also I don't get dressed until the evening. It's 2 now, I've been up for 6 hours, and the closest I've gotten to changing is when I pulled my pjs down to go to the bathroom. I don't have much food in the house (certainly nothing I want to eat beyond some chocolate) so the crucial point at which I shower and change is bound to happen soon....

Kate, no I did not go back into the ocean! I waited until I could drive again and then I left. I kind of stumbled back to the beach in a daze and hugged my towel until reality returned. And you're right, people worrying about me won't stop me, only experience will. I feel very cautious towards oceans now and will probably only swim if the waves are tiny or there's a lifeguard.

Also, Kate, it seems our lives are going in opposite directions. You write about breaking up with Sean again whereas I seem to be slowly getting back together with Francisco. I still haven't decided whether I'm letting this happen because it's comfortable, or because we really will be good for each other in the long-term. I'm trying to take Kris' advice and stop being so damn serious about relationships, but it's hard to do.

Wonderful Things about my vacation:

Jeanne, Richard, and Clodagh all texting me just when I was about to pity myself for being alone on Christmas

Swimming in the shitty rainy christmas day weather underneath Rainbow falls after a sweaty and damp hike. No one else was dumb enough to come out, so I got naked and it was just me and the weight of Maori history

Dancing for the dolphins as they cavorted around the boat (i didn't get to swim with them but they were 3 feet away and seemed very entertained by my singing and dancing, so it was fantastic anyway)

Surfing the giant sand dunes. The walk up the hill was so terrible that I kept vowing not to climb it again. Then, before I knew what I was doing, I'd find myself a third of the way up the hill again because of how fun the ride down was

Getting an "energy" massage in the middle of the busiest street in paihia and getting quizzed about it by all the passers-by afterwards.

Not getting into any car accidents during 800 km worth of driving

Not dying

The pohutukawa trees on the beaches. So romantic. So practical. No sunburns for me this trip!

Mangonui fish and chips. The chips were fine, but I definitely see why people rave about the fish. So fresh! So moist and delicate on the inside, so crispy on the outside! And on a related note, finding 2 heinz ketchup packets in my purse just as I started eating the chips.

Drinking South gin & tonics all week. I came so close to finishing the bottle.

Upgrading to a nicer room for the last 2 nights. It was nothing special but felt like pure heaven after the backpackers single.

Coming back with a week's worth of vacation tales to share and compare with Francisco's (he went to the Cook Islands)


It's good to be back with (some of) my friends again though. I had NYE with a small crew at Havana bar. It was chill but I was so happy to be socializing again that it was all I needed.

I feel the old fears of career and future plans beginning to creep back into my life again. Should I go back to the US in March? Where will I get job references? How will I get into schools? Where to live, what to do.

NO! Stay back thoughts. You are so boring in your consistency. Can't you mix it up at least slightly for once?