Abdominal Disfigurement

I think there's more than one stage of baby longing. The first stage Zoe probably started on when she was about 2 years old, and is a sharp urge, no thinking, a pure quick emotional gust of longing. I used to feel it in my uterus starting at about the age of 21. Over the past few months I've graduated into the second stage, which feels more reasonable. It's the, Could I be in this for life? When is a good time to start? Soon soon soon? sort of thought pattern. I'm not writing this well, but I guess you could say it's mellowed into a more reasonable, but almost constant, background urge. One moored more in logic and planning, though still obviously mostly emotional because, really, who would want a baby if they didn't feel that emotion? It's not a reasonable thing to do for those of us without land or inheritance issues. The third stage would obviously be when you're actively trying for conception. I feel confident I will be in that stage within the next 5 years. Seriously, I want a baby before I'm 30. I'm not being reasonable at all here now, and everyone says wait, wait, but I keep reading horror stories about women who waited too long and then developed a health problem, or had some rogue doctor remove their ovaries, and I find myself thinking, "This is much too important to wait much longer for." Also, all the celebrities my age are having babies now, which I would too if I had millions of dollars, and I'm sooooo jealous. Ha! I'm jealous of their babies, and not that they're famous. This is a change. I'm going to pause for a moment and savor this new feeling

...

Oh but you're broke and not in a stable relationship Vanessa. You have no career. Look, let's make a deal. Stop all this traveling around, save several thousand dollars, stop renting expensive apartments in inner cities, and settle into a more stable life pattern for a couple of years. Then we can talk.

Maybe I should start up a daycare service. If I can think of a cool, progressive way to do it I just might

God, I'm so sick of being responsible. It's exhausting sometimes. I always study for my tests, plan financial expenditures way in advance, worry, shave my legs before wearing a dress, buy birthday presents, call my mom, have a salad every day, pay my bills on time. For once I wish I could be one of those stupid girls that acts with her heart and gets into trouble later. All the people who "messed up their lives" already have babies. This paragraph is one of the most annoying things I've ever written. I'm kind of enjoying it. I'm enjoying being unsatisfied and envious of lives that are probably much more difficult than my charmed existence. Here we go channeling Francisco again. I wonder if he knows how much he's influenced me.

Woo! Seriously though, I'm happy with my life. All the ways in which it could improve are totally attainable and that is a good place to be. I could be pregnant within a couple months if I wanted to. I could be in the US tomorrow. I could be back in school in September. I could be talking to you right now. Saying it like this makes me relax because if it can happen so quickly, then I can wait. Patience appears when the apparent effort required diminishes

Helicopters, Planes and other forms of Flying

I thought I would write a post here about how I finally got formally introduced to Bret McKenzie, and how he totally wasn't impressed with Francisco's high quality humor, but all my memories of Friday night were blown out of my head by the rest of the weekend.

Let me tell you, this was one of those weekends that makes you forget about all other weekends in recent history. We all try so hard to have good times all the time but let's face it, most weekends can't approach this one and ask her out on a date. She's in another league.

Ok, so Friday, celebrity schmelebrity. Drinks with Reza, Ho-bag, Peter, and Francisco. High quality conversation and martinis. The usual schtick. Reza'a off to Iran for a couple weeks. Apparently in Iran right now it's WINTER. We all imagine it as a big desert, but there are lots of mountains and jungle too, and it gets deathly cold there. Like, colder than Montreal. Have a good time Reza.

Saturday was the good stuff: wedding wedding wedding. My eyes were wet all day. I got to hold Nayou on the busride over. Halfway through I realized I hadn't been listening to whatever anyone else was saying, I'd just been grinning and babysitting. We arrived and started drinking. Ken's friends and family were representing in full force from the States. They were all very cool. His friends had that dorky engineer shine. It was great bantering and dancing with them. They've all been well trained in partner dancing, which got me wishing Francisco had those sorts of skillz because damn, it was so fun. All the relatives on both sides I talked to were cool people too. No one obnoxious, domineering, restless, etc. Just relaxed cool people with good stories. Good speeches, delicious (and surprisingly healthy) food, an exciting helicopter entry by the bridal party and accompanying paparazza, an isolated venue with sheep staring down from the hillside and a sharp drop off into sunset/ocean in front of us. No one (that I saw) got terribly drunk, it was a party bus on the way back, and everyone was in bed at 1. No hangover for once either! I've decided getting drunk isn't a problem, it's Sleeping while drunk that is. Ken and Jeanne struck a great balance between casual barefoot nature chill party, and structured-exciting-fancy. Just enough of the traditional wedding stuff to give an extra special feel, plus great music, but not so much that anyone was even slightly uncomfortable. Even the cake tasted good.

Sunday "morning" we had an after brunch. I found myself tearing up again after Ken gave me a better than usual hug at the end. Dang, what is with me. Everything is ending and beginning. The Ardents leave on Saturday, Francisco on Tuesday. His last night in town he's rented out a suite at the Duxton. I dream of ordering room service and sleeping in on Tuesday. I think this is one of those times where our dreams are one and the same. Tonight is one of several goodbye shindigs. It's fun for me to keep saying goodbye but only because I get to say hello again in May. Everyone else must be feeling the sorrow for real. Our friend Meredith was terribly sad on Saturday night because it was her final goodbye to the Ardents/F. She looked really beautiful in her tears, and I found myself extra touched by how sad she was. It's like we're all breaking up.

Oh, speaking of May, I have finally bought plane tickets back to the US! May 3rd I arrive in San Francisco, and May 10th I head to NY for over a month of family time. I'll be back to SF by June 21. Kris is trying to convince me to head straight to Vegas on the way back, which maybe will happen since I've never been there (Southwest layovers don't count).

Things are wonderful right now. I'm feeling sentimental for the present. There should be a word for this other than self-indulgent.

What is my/your effect on you/me

Taisuke gave me this talk on tape, Getting Unstuck, that I just started listening to last night, and which has reminded me of the importance of meditation. I'm looking forward to listening to more of it.<

For some reason, it got me thinking about cause and effect a lot. Not that it has much to do with cause and effect directly, but meditating makes things like cause and effect very clear for me. I was practicing meditation on the bus ride to work today, marginally successfully, and ended up during one of my lapses thinking about religion and its relationship to strife. I realized I'd been blaming the dark ages on Christianity, when perhaps religion became so popular because it was the only thing not painful at the time, clung to in desperation. Then I found myself thinking that perhaps our current middle east troubles are not the effect of religion, but that in fact the current world powers are pushing us towards conflict in order to make people more religious. Conflict to spur people onto dark age levels of religion. Make the mainstream more in line with them. I'm not saying I believe this, but it's weird to have a cause and effect moment of liberation, because it suddenly spreads to everything.

Like dying. Maybe people do not suddenly become wise when they approach death. Maybe the reason they are more readily accessing their wisdom is they have more time for stillness. They're kind of forced into meditation because they can't really move or do anything. Maybe simulating this kind of situation, an enforced entrapment, would be beneficial to many of us frantic thinkers.

Anyway, it's good to have a day when I remember my mind is still full of epiphanies and interesting things, if only I pay attention to being and noticing things. Epiphanies: not just for kids!

I had a pretty bad migraine on Sunday. It was my own fault. I poisoned myself with absinthe. I like to think the migraines are because my body is a neat freak, aggressively cleaning itself out via both exits at the slightest mess. Rather than brain damage, which is what I was convinced was happening for a while there.

Alumni

Today I have decided that I am beginning a mission of eliminating the resentment and pessimism I feel towards MIT. It's not completely unrelated from my new year's resolution to eliminate jealousy towards other people, because it is mostly based on the jealousy I feel towards most other MIT alumni. It doesn't make sense, it's a manifestation of an internal state, and no one cares about it except me. It's a waste of time, as are many things I occupy my time with.

When I see a postcard from MIT asking me for money, or a newsletter from my program of study telling me about all the exciting research going on, I am filled with rage and disgust. If I had a gun I would shoot the mail until the writing was illegible. I often find myself thinking, "Why the hell would I give you bastards money, you did nothing for me."

The above paragraph is illogical. It has gotten to this point over time due to my inability to find a job and a career based on academic credentials, and my subsequent self-loathing. Finding a job is not a "fair" experience. It is due to commitment, almost an obsessive manic spirit. People who are successful job hunters are persistent and aggressive. Or they know someone. Almost no one I know has been a dream ideal candidate and therefore quickly successful in the advertised job market. Either they knew someone, or they methodically applied for months and months, sometimes getting follow up calls half a year later.

So this year, I am going to love MIT again. Because there is some amazing stuff going on there. And because I met the person I love the best in the whole world there. And because I now think I can learn anything or go anywhere. And because I was first exposed to alternate lifestyles there. Because I learned to cook for a crowd, enjoy a lecture, design a theatre set, and recruit psychology subjects. Because it exposed me to command line operating systems (scary!) and people nerdier than me, and crazy painted walls, and how to properly gut and remodel a room. I'm so sorry MIT. I'm crying right now at the hatred I've felt for you. It's not your fault that I've hated or lost myself for so many years, or that I first found depression while living within your borders. I forgive you. Someday I'll have money and give some to you. I'll give some to charities, and some to savings, and the rest to my children.

I am a complete nut. The keyboard is wet but god I feel so good right now. This is that thing they call a breakthrough. I carry so much crap around with me, but I don't want any of it anymore. I want things to be hard, and I want to succeed. I want so many things! For too long I've felt bad that a person this intelligent would want such basic things as marriage, property in the country, children, and close neighbors. How I ever got it in my head that wanting what everyone else wants is beneath me is absurd. I have been beyond arrogance, too good to be part of the human race, too good to apply for jobs or commit to one training program. Too good to watch tv even, sometimes. If only you knew how much of a snob I've been....

But no. I'm being too hard on myself again. Let's not take anything away from this breakthrough. Let's leave as the sad and beautiful thing it is.

Crashing Jeanne's hens night in wine country this weekend was wonderful, but I don't feel like talking about it now. I think the pictures will speak for themselves though.

Where's Your Meat Tat

This morning Francisco told me he's asking our friend Kevin to tattoo a pork chop on him this Saturday. Kevin used to have his own tattoo shop back in the day and just recently shipped his tattooing supplies to New Zealand, which has led to everyone walking around with tattoo stars in their eyes, fantasizing about the possibilities. It sounds really fun to be tattooed by someone you already know and like, especially when they have some silly tattoos of their own (I think he has rocking chairs around his arm?). Francisco has reminded me that I'm way overdue for actualizing my own tattoo fantasy. I'm tired of talking about it already. I should get it done soon so as to make space for a new fantasy. We were all also talking about getting assclub tattoos, which in my mind means a picture of a club (the kind you hit things with) on our asses, but which others have interpreted to mean a picture of an ass on all our asses. I imagine my 90 year old self would be more excited about the club than the mini-ass, but either way, if everyone else was doing it, and it was just a tiny little thing, I'd do it too. As a reminder for those glory days when I was so into my friendships, I got tattoos of them.

Heh. A pork chop. Have I mentioned how awesome Francisco is lately? Who knew romance could work the second time around. I can't believe how much of a cynic I was (and I'd never come close to getting back together with any of my exes). I thought breakups were the worst thing in the world (ours wasn't too bad) and getting back together with an ex was something only much weaker women than I did. Lonely women. Women who chose pain because it was easier at the time. I vowed never to be so dumb. And then I did it, and it's fine! I think if I hadn't my life would be filled with what ifs. I'm glad I was so wrong!

In one of the 4000 books I've read lately, there was a comment that men bond over drinks, whereas women bond when they eat dessert together. Thinking about Clodagh's mom making a meringue for dinner tonight is reminding me of this. Maybe she'll warm up to the group while we eat her delicious. Now I'm trying to think of a dessert to make for something....fabulous....coming up.

My how quickly we change

I wrote this on Tuesday:

Last night I had a dream that suddenly there were about 20 new pictures of me linked up on Facebook.

The worst part is, in my dream I felt really good about this.

I also had a dream that Kate was doing this big deal singing show from inside a soap bubble. She's never sung around me in real life. Probably because she didn't feel confident when surrounded by mine and Zoe's aggressive harmonising. Hell, if I had been a person other than one of the two of us, I probably would have screamed, Enough already with the harmonising in thirds! You people make every song sound the same!

It was a night of obvious dreaming. Sometimes when I go to bed before 10 this happens. It's really fun going to bed so early. I know I'll be getting tons of sleep, so I play games with myself to stay awake a little longer in order to prolong that state just before sleep. Some people really like the half awake sleep in the morning, but on that end of the night I usually like to leap up quickly (or still be completely asleep, in the case of migraines or hangover). But dang, being half-awake leisurely thinking about my day before I go to bed is heaven. People with sleeping problems probably think this sounds insane, but I'm a really good sleeper and usually fall asleep within 2 minutes, so it's a special occasion when that doesn't happen. I wasn't always this way. In high school and the first half of college I sometimes took forever to fall asleep, propped up on my ball of anxiety. Happy days when problems resolve themselves. I'm hoping my new cyst and skin tag do that. Don't you love knowing this stuff about me? Apparently cysts and skin tags (remember all those things that used to hang down in Dad's eye? Skin Tags) run in my family.

This morning I examined my armpit and...THE SKIN TAG WAS GONE. Without any sign of ever being there. Then I put two and two together and examined my bikini line, where another developing one used to be. I've had this painful inflammation down there all week that's making it slightly painful to walk. I thought it was just the worst zit in existence, but no: the skin tag down there is gone too. My body is like a wet dog shaking itself off, but instead of water flying everywhere there are tiny skin tags.

I just grossed myself out!