My Tank is Leaking

I'm lonely.
But...I've been around people all day.

It's like being hungry, and you eat and eat, but you just get hungrier...

What's the deal? How do I heal this?

Will my loneliness resolve through being alone?
Through getting over this whole mess with Jaimes?
Through time?

I need...something. But I don't know what.

Ah ha!

At least I beat the baby out of bed this morning. Boxes, boxes, here I come.

There Just Ain't Time Enough

It's so hard to get anything done during the day, what with Ravenna demanding most of my attention. So I think to myself, "Hey, I'll just flow with her now, and I'll get my stuff done at night."

But here I am now, at night, she's just gone to sleep...and I'm so doggone tired that I can hardly type up this post.

So, I guess instead of getting my stuff done, I'll just go to bed now too. Again.

So much for tonight.

Spent

I used to feel sad, angry, hurt, betrayed, confused, desperate, enraged. I've cycled through all these emotions the last few weeks.

Today and yesterday, though, I just feel...empty. Limp. Like there isn't really any fight in me any more.

This feeling, it's different than acceptance. More like avoidance? But not that, either. Just, I don't know - absence.

An Apple a day...

My poor Mac, Werbaichi, has been quite ill. She is a G4 PowerBook, running 10.3.9...not totally current, but not that outdated, either.

A long time ago, I installed iSync beta. I stopped using it quite a while ago, because it turned out to be quite buggy; losing calendar items, duplicating items, doing funky things with its various devices. And then recently it's been acting up even more, all on its own; automatically starting, besotting me with error messages, eating up memory, again and again. Each time I shut it down it would start right up again. I couldn't find a way to turn it off, and every link I found to download the uninstaller has been broken.

I was nervous to just start deleting files, but today I bit the bullet and did it. Hopefully just trashing every iSync related file that I could find will keep it from terrorizing my sessions any longer, without compromising any other functionality.

iSync aside, my Mac has been losing gigabytes of memory at a time. I log on and there are 4 G free space, and within an hour she is complaining that there is no free space at all.

I've done numerous searches the last few months trying to figure out what was going on, but until today, all to no avail. I suspected either Firefox or iTunes as the culprits since I had installed updates for each at about the time the problem started, but hadn't narrowed that down with certainty, either.

Then, last week, I figured out that I was losing the space to gigantic console logs. And today, I finally hit gold with this search: "console log huge 10.3.9"! Finally! w00t! It seems that iTunes is the culprit, after all. I deleted all the iTunes plist files, deleted the console file, rebooted, reran the iTunes setup, and...so good so far. Here's hoping the problem is resolved.

Today's Score: Kathryn 2, Werbaichi 0

DJ Kat

I just found out that I'm listed in the Seattle Weekly whenever I DJ at the Century Ballroom. How crazy is that? I'm famous.

Sort-of.

If, by "famous", I meant "relatively unknown".

On Packing

I'm moving this week.

I keep meaning to pack.
I set aside time to pack.
I have boxes in which to pack.
But I keep on not packing.

Shoot me up

Pity is such a strange creature. Especially self-pity.

The other night, I was consumed by it. But then, tonight, Ravenna napped for the last 40 minutes of the evening, I got to dance my heart out for those 40 minutes, delighted in the music and in my partners, felt my body waking up and kicking into gear and figuring out how to move again, and now I'm feeling so, so happy.

It's like a drug. These good nights...they're so good. All the rest of the time, I'm just wanting my fix. I don't need liquor, or caffiene, or narcotics; I've got tango.

I'm No Savior

I glimpsed a truth tonight. Driving home in the rain, having just woken from some intense dreams, struggling with the "Why? Why? Why?'s" that beset so often these days, late at night, when I am alone, my defenses down.

Jaimes is where I was some years ago.

Largely, he is who I was. Broken, scared to death, flailing around. Unable to commit to any one, yet unable to be alone. Destructive. Unable to appreciate the beauty of sharing the smallest things, the ins and outs of a life, with another person. Wanting to be with everyone, but not able to truly be with anyone.

I sabotaged some relationships that could have been truly beautiful. At the time, I felt unable to follow any other course.

This brings up a corollary truth...

Let's look at Jeremy. Jeremy was probably one of the most solid people I have ever been involved with. I loved him. I could see then and can see still that he is an amazing person to be involved with.

But...

If he and I had stayed together, it might have lasted years and years, maybe a lifetime, but I believe I would have remained broken, flailing, scared and destructive all the while.

He couldn't save me.

I needed the time and events that have come in the years since to act as a catalyst. I couldn't change as I needed to when I was so supported by him...I needed to fall, fall some more, and shatter on the ground, all so that I might order myself back into some semblance of health and sanity.

This idea is elusive even to me, yet I feel it is a fundamental truth. I could have stayed with Jeremy, but it would have been broken and unhealthy, _I_ would have been broken and unhealthy, and I don't think I would have been able to heal properly all the while that I remained with him.

In the years since, time and circumstance shaped me so that I am in a place where I feel I am now ready for what he and I could have had.

But that time is past. Jeremy might have been a right person, but he was at the wrong time.

Thus it is with Jaimes.

I believe I am ready for a solid, healthy relationship. But Jaimes is where I was these years ago.

Maybe I am a right person for him, but it is not the right time. He needs to flail and destroy as he will. Supporting him will not heal him; it will only postpone whatever needs to happen for him.

For all the want in the world, I can't save him.

Maybe I Need to Comb My Hair More Often

Some guy mistook me for a beggar tonight and tried to offer me money.

He and his girlfriend ran after me, stopped me before I got in my car, asked me, "What do you need, money?" and I think they were trying to hand me a $20. I was really confused. I didn't understand what they were asking at first, why he was waving a fistful of dollar at me, had I dropped it and he was trying to return it or what? Then he asked me how old Ravenna was. "11 months," I said. He told me that she is a beautiful baby boy. Almost at the same time his girlfriend apologized to me and, apologizing profusely still, they slunk away. It wasn't until then that I realized what had been going on, that they had thought I was in need and were trying to be good samaritans, that they had been trying to give me the money he had been waving on.

Prior to this encounter I had been at a tango gathering at a friend's loft in Pioneer Square. If you're not in the know about Seattle, Pioneer Square is a hip corner downtown filled with bars and clubs and an active nightlife. Post gathering, maybe 12:30 in the morning, I was walking to my car with one bag over my shoulder, a backpack on my back, carrying Ravenna wrapped in her blanket.

I wasn't dressed to the nines like so many of the clubbing women out on the street, but I wasn't dresed poorly. Dressy top, flowing pants, flip-flops. My hair was groomed and I was wearing some jewelry I find aesthetically pleasing.

So what was it? Was it the baby?

Was it the way I was dressed?

My demeanor?

It was all so surreal.

Pointless Pithy Pity Party

Tango is such a source of frustration for me right now.

I just want to dance. I want to dance to music that moves me. I want to express myself through movement as best as I am able.

But...

I don't have the resources to have Ravenna babysat too often. And I don't want to be away from her too much.

And when I bring her with me to a dance or a practica, she takes up almost all of my time. She's been going through a particularly clinging phase the last few weeks, and she doesn't want to let her mom dance with other people, no matter how much fun she herself is having. Often she'll fall asleep towards the end, but not until a good 3/4 of the evening is gone, at least.

Then, when she is finally asleep, and I'm free to dance...I still don't get to dance. People don't ask me. The few times that I do get to dance, I'm not dancing to the best of my ability; I'm not in shape for tango because I do it so rarely right now. My body isn't moving the right way, it's so out of practice. So, maybe because I'm not so much fun to dance with these days, or maybe because they're just used to me being unavailable and thus not in the habit of asking me, maybe both, or maybe something else entirely, the leads don't ask me.

So many nights the night is over and I didn't get to dance at all. Or maybe just a couple songs.

What's the deal? Do I need to just let go of tango?

I don't want to let go.

I want, so badly, to dance. I want to create beauty and art through movement to music that speaks to me. I want to connect with someone else to the music through the dance.

In the last month, since our Seattle tango festival drew to a close, I don't think I've danced more than 30 minutes total. If that. Just a song, or if I'm very lucky, maybe a whole set, here and there.

It makes me so sad. I'm filled with longing, I'm unfulfilled. I want. I want to dance. Move. Create. Express.

Many of the leads I would like to dance with, many of them my friends, seem uninterested in dancing with me in a way that leaves me feeling dejected and angry. They give the impression that they don't see me, don't want to see me, that I don't exist for them as long as the music is playing. They're busy pursuing dances with women who are much more practiced and able than myself.

Because I'm not dancing, I'm falling more out of practice. I want to be getting better, improving my dance, but it just keeps deteriorating.

So much frustration! And frustration is not attractive. It does not make people want to dance with me more. It keeps them away even moreso.

So...

What is it? Do I need to just give tango up?

It seems like so much of my life right now is a lesson in giving things up. Jaimes. My notion of a family. Maybe it's fitting if I had to give tango up also, it's another chapter in the same lesson book.

But I don't want to give it up.

I want it.

For me. I want it so badly. It's the meat of my creative leaning.

And for Ravenna. She loves the music and the culture and the people so much. I don't want to take it away from her.

I want to dance, dance, dance, dance, dance.