My Rediscovery of Me

“…thinking how many dishes have i broken this week?
in an attempt to not break myself …” -Andrea Gibson

Number of dishes I broke this week: 2.

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Something I wrote at a museum recently:

“too many people, too much heat (an experience I don’t often feel), too too sacred a place to share — no, to experience together — nothing is too sacred to share, right? — but experiences sometimes demand alonedom, singlehood, even if only briefly.”

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Something else:

“After our lovers storm
your tongue tornadoes my breast”

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I step on glass. I don’t feel it. I bleed. Repeat.

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I hung out with a friend to(yester)day. We had coffee, and then we went to this and then here. And then I walked to work, about 40 blocks. (It took an hour, and it was amazing.)

He and I talked about a lot of stuff. At one point, we were talking about dating in New York and I said, “it’s awful; isn’t it awful?” He agreed. We shared stories, kind of, and continued to agree on how awful dating was. And then I said something about how it’s only awful for me when I realize I don’t want to be with the person I’m seeing but don’t end it. He said that didn’t apply to the situation he was in.

I’m still thinking about all this. Is dating in New York awful? I think it ties into how isolating the city can be. But I don’t think it’s hard to meet people. I meet people all the time. It’s hard to meet the right people. (Yesterday, I took myself to a movie, a bookstore and dinner at a burger place. Just as I finished eating, this man walks by and then in, straight to me, and introduces himself. We talk a little — he tells me he’s a painter — and he gives me his number. When I get home, I Google him. He’s 49. That isn’t old, but it’s not what I want.) Helen says I get bored too easily. Sia says we INFPs are never quite satisfied. I just always go back to the knowledge that I’ve let a lot of love go. That makes it easier for me to just experience things as they (or we) come or don’t come.

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I found out that one of my aunts died following her circumcision. She was 7 or 8 years old. Another aunt died in childbirth, also shortly after her circumcision.

My great-grandfather wrote an autobiography. I found it in its entirety online. I started to read it but I was too emotional, so much was opening up to me and I had to breathe.

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I have a celebrity crush. (Well, really her character on Fringe.)

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And sleep, soon, I hope.

I’m sitting up in bed, playing Bejeweled Blitz, and I just had a strong need to post about how happy I am that I’m sad. I am so thankful for this darkness.

I’m beginning to picture my desires, the pure ones, uninhibited by perceived (or true but unfortunate) responsibility.

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I sometimes wear this necklace that has a key on it. A friend asked me today for the back story of my chain. I said I found a key at a shop in Wichita and I put it on the necklace, not much else to it. “Everything you do usually has a meaning to it,” he said (or something like that).

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I think about home all the time. I still don’t know where it is, but it feels nearer.

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Bismillah.

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Videos I’d Watch: Shit Introverts Want to Say to Extroverts; Shit Black Arab Fathers Who Raised Their Children in Mississippi Say to Those Children, in Arabish, with a Southern Accent; Shit Everybody Says to Nobody (or Shit All Y’all Want to Say); Shit Mississippians Say About William Faulkner; Shit Journalists Say About Journalism’s Future.

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Is “Bejeweled Blitz shoulder” a real condition? Can we make it one?

Instead of being in bed, I am Facebook-chatting with Charity (I have been for about four hours) and I am Googling [INFP Pisces] combinations.

I found this:

Any INFP who has made it this far in life and not had a serious meltdown due to:

a. being unable to juggle their constant cornucopia of thoughts and emotions
b. being unable to to relate said emotions to anyone.
c. never being able to achieve their stratospheric goals.

seriously deserves a call from the Justice League. Empathman anyone?

Is this a serious meltdown?

I had a really rough day. I was in bed for a long time. I got up, tried to distract myself, but I broke down. I thought I’d composed myself and then Sia gets home and I break down in front of her.

Two friends have gotten upset with me today because I’m not communicating. I was/am too akdfja;dkjadf to try to explain.

I can’t explain, though. I just can’t. There are so many somethings.

I think that’s why I’m Googling. I’m thinking another INFP/Pisces combination might get it or has experienced it and created some sort of artistic work about it, from the other side.

Charity has helped a lot. Of course.

I’m “very allergic” to:

• cats
• dogs
• “all type of grass”
• trees (all of them except beech trees)
• household dust
• mold
• mites

Today wasn’t a lot of fun. I woke up with an awful sore throat. Again. [I have throat issues, strep in particular, regularly.]

I also had trouble breathing. [That's not a common occurrence.]

I called in sick to work, which I hated to do because I have a to-do list full of things waiting to be to-done.

[On Twitter, I wrote: "When I say, 'I feel awful,' it sounds like 'I falafel.' And then I giggle and I falafeler." My friend Diego responded: "I tabbouleh understand how you feel." I then said: "It's rather pitaful."]

Anyway, I was in bed until almost 5. Before getting up, I talked to my oldest sister and to Nic on the phone.

I also remembered I forgot my dad’s birthday. I freaked out and called my older brother, who told me that my dad told him last year that he doesn’t like celebrating his birthday on the Western/Christian calendar. Instead, I should call him on the 12th of Muharram, on the Islamic calendar. (That’s next Wednesday.)

I also have so much on my mind. Way too much. But a quote on Jessica’s blog made me smile and helped me to be thankful for my ability to the privilege of being able to cope.

My throat still hurts, but my breathing is fine.

I’m just tired of dealing with health stuff. Yesterday, I had my physical. I got a breast exam, an EKG, a hearing test and a tetanus shot. Blood was drawn to test for a long list of stuff, including creatinine, STD/HIV and an allergy panel. I’ll get those results in a week.

I have my dental appointment Saturday at 11:30. I keep imagining that the dentist is going to see my awful teeth and then decide to give up.

I’m watching Being Erica. One of the characters likes to quote other people’s work frequently. Just now: “We come to love not by finding a perfect person, but by learning to see an imperfect person perfectly” -Sam Keen

Blah, blah, blah. [This is a response to my blathering, not the quote -- which I love.]

And, now, I’m going to lie down.

*Title’s the name of a Jay-Z song I was listening to as I was writing.

I’m sitting in bed, preparing for settling down and taking off.

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I just had a nice chill-and-talk session with my roommate and it really hit me how thankful I am for her. She’s amazing and inspiring and I’m really thankful for her presence in my life.

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Today (yesterday) was a good day. I’m proud of this accomplishment: I scheduled an appointment for an annual physical for Wednesday morning and for a checkup/probable root canal at a dentist Saturday. Tomorrow (today) I’m calling a gynecologist a coworker recommended to try to set up this year’s pap and STD/HIV testing. My eyes were checked in April. My next kidney checkup is next April. I think that’s all the health stuff.

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Oh, I think I have less than $200 left on my medical bills from early this year. That’s good. Now if only I could get a handle on the rest of my cash.

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Cramps. How many of us have them? Cramps.

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Ever since my cat Sara died in February, I regularly check to see if the boys are alive. (They sleep a lot.) Yesterday, I damn near fainted. Naj and Z were cuddled up on top of a chest in my bedroom. [Not of a human. ] Naji was in front, in a ball. Zaki was behind him, laying in the same position I found Sara’s body in. I didn’t see his body moving. I touched him. Naji looked up instead, with what I convinced myself were sad eyes. I started to imagine too much. I pushed Zaki. His head shot up, he yawned and I thanked him and the universe for his breath.

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And my breath. Thank you, universe.

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I think I’m ready to become another person’s Big Sis and to be open about it with the almost-10-year-old in Wichita.

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Wichita.

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I got a couple of days around New Year’s off. I’m hoping Nic and I can spend a bunch of time together. I miss her a lot and could always use one of her hugs.

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Inspired by my friend Talia, I think I’ll send holiday/New Year/I Miss You cards again this year — after a two-year break. (Last and only time was in 2008.) If you’d like one, use the contact page and send me your address, please. If you’re still waiting for a letter from me, you’ll get that soon. I promise. Intense year.

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Intense living. Simultaneously, quite calm.

Today is the first day I’ve had mostly to myself. It’s the first day I’ve had to think, to really meditate before fully waking, to process some changes and additions to my life and my mindset, to listen to music and watch TV for as long as I wanted.

One of my sisters was in town for Thanksgiving. She got in Tuesday, left Saturday. We talked, cooked, played Phase 10, went to the movies. She met the guy I’m dating. We Skyped with Mom. It was cool.

And so, yeah, I’m seeing someone. Let’s call him S.D. We met on OKC. His first message to me was: “I’m not shy! What did you do to your kidneys??? *kidneyHugz* the moon knows.” I thought it was an appropriately random response to my profile. We exchanged a few messages and met for tea. Afterward, on the train to work, I wrote in my journal:

“I just had a great date. A first date. Tea and laughter with [S.D.], 29. He seems to be equal parts geek and dreamer. I was really comfortable. We talked about websites, about meditation, work, dancing, hypocrisy, drawing, photography. He’s funny and awkward and so considerate. After he walked me to the subway, we made plans for our next date. Tonight. After work. We’ll see a movie or two.”

A photo he took of me on our first date.

We’ve spent a lot of time together. This morning, he boarded a plane to St. Thomas, where he (before we met) has accepted a job. He called when he landed.

So I don’t know what’s going to happen. He’s sweet and amazingly smart and he says things like “I don’t think in language” that I’m really happy about. He’s a good hand-holder. He’s also a fan of awful puns (he told Zaki, one of the cats, that he would do well in a spilling bee). And he just might teach me to worry a little less, which — even if nothing else happens — will be more than I could’ve asked for.

Work is going well. I’m noting a few places where I need to learn and I’m trying to carve out space for that learning to occur.

I’m not writing as much as I’d like to, but I’m trying to take more pictures when I can.

Something I did write:

I have so much in me; come and see.

I’m always amazed at how much (so very much) I can miss so many places and so, so many inspiring people and still feel like I’m right where I should be.

Stomachache.
Cold feet.
Too many thoughts.

“I was born in the middle of the night. It’s still when I feel most alive.”