Short Rant

I am using a PC running Windows XP at my parent's house right now, and I am surprised and disappointed at how poorly the pictures I put on this page display, both in Firefox and in Internet Explorer. So dark and difficult to see. They don't look anything like they do on my PowerBook! I wonder if it's the settings on this machine, or if they display so poorly on all PCs.

Quick Update

I am in the midwest right now, have been since September 13th, and will be until October 12th. Ravenna and I have been having a great time! We've been bouncing around from Minneapolis, MN, to Rochester, MN, to Madison, WI, to Ann Arbor, MI, to Holland, MI, and this weekend we hit Cedar Rapids, IA, and Burlington, IA. We've ridden planes, trains, and automobiles. (The train has been our best ride so far...I was pleasantly surprised at how comfortable it was. Next time I travel out here I'm going to consider taking the train all the way, instead of flying.) I've been catching up with all sorts of relatives and friends, some of whom I hadn't seen for a decade or more. It's been such a luxury, having so much time, and no weddings or funerals or other such events keeping me busy; I've been able to do so much more this trip than I've managed in years.

And yet, even with a full month, at the end of our time out here there will still be people I would like to have seen and things I would like to have done that there just won't be enough time for. There's not enough time in a day, not enough days in a week, not enough weeks in a month...not just on this trip, but generally. It all flies by so quickly. I keep lists in my head of things I'd like to do, projects I'd like to complete, people I'd like to catch up with, and I'm always doing something, working somehow toward checking one of the items off, but the lists get longer and more varied. I guess it's a good thing. I know some people who spend so much time idling, feeling bored, restless...I don't remember the last time I felt bored.

But I do wish I had 10 more hours in a day. Or maybe 5. At least 2. Couldn't we all use 2 more hours every day?

Even with these short days, though, it's been a great trip. So much quality time with so many great people! And then in my free time I've gotten my finances organized, and I've been expanding my knitting skills, working on a sweater, I've done a good bit of reading, and I've settled on a cooperative preschool in Seattle that Ravenna and I will try out when we get back. Productive days.

I wish the end of the trip weren't approaching so quickly, although I am looking forward to unpacking and settling into the new place when I get back.

What's the Difference Between a Sheriff's Department and a Police Department, Anyway?

Someone from the Sheriff's Department in Austin, MN, called today and left a message. I was kinda confused about why they would be calling me.

I called back, but he was on a medical call somewhere.

Then he called me back again a bit later.

It was a short conversation, once we finally spoke. I guess there was some deal with a car being noted somewhere under suspicious circumstances, and the license plate the deputy took down was the MN license for my Taurus.

But...the Taurus has been here in Seattle for years, and it's not even registered in MN any more, it's registered in WA.

So, maybe someone got ahold of the old plates. Or the deputy took down the plate number incorrectly. Who knows.

What a strange mid-day diversion.

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.

Running in Circles

A while ago now, Jaimes had an affair with someone who, not so long before that, had been one of my closest friends.

I tried to respond with forgiveness and with love for both of them, attempted to take it in and then let it go without resentment. I say "tried" because I felt hurt, jealous, betrayed, and while I wanted with the best of intentions to just let it at go, I am sure some of it came through and colored interactions with each of them in some way.

In retrospect, I am not sure responding thusly was wise. I still had my hurt. They still had their guilt. Maybe coming at it this way just allowed all of these feelings to fester. Is this where my relationship with Jaimes suffered irreparable damage? I'm not sure. The relationship with the girl has never recovered, in spite of repeated attempts I've made to reach out to her.

All our poisoned feelings stayed, infectious and diseased, remaining beneath the surface all the while so that the wound could never close or heal. Perhaps if I had instead reacted in anger, pushed them both away from me, it would have been like slicing open the wound so that all the bile and puss could bleed away, so that it could then heal.

Jaimes feels that I smother him. Is it guilt that colors his perception? Does he feel that I should have been hurt, angry, and instead I keep trying to be loving, kind, healing...which, not being what he wants, what he needs, smothers him? Maybe.

Or maybe I'm just grasping at straws. Maybe the affair and my response did not doom our relationship, but he had the affair because it was already doomed.

C

I feel like I have a scarlet letter emblazoned on my chest. "C" for complicated, too too complicated.

Coming Apart

Many people, when I tell them about the separation, say something to the effect of, "Well, that is a big decision. Being in a relationship takes work and effort, involves making concessions. You must have talked so much about what you could do to fix things, to get to this point. You must have exhausted all the alternatives."

When they say this to me, I murmur something that sounds vaguely affirmative. But it feels weird, the whole interaction.

Why does it feel weird?

We didn't exhaust anything.

Jaimes is checked out. He has no desire to fix things. He has no desire to talk things through.

Then today, my dad asked me if we've considered counseling. I responded honestly, "Jaimes isn't willing." My dad was silent. I was silent.

I can't presume to know what Jaimes is thinking. Sometimes it seems he really cares for and loves me. But right now, where it concerns me, he is unwilling to give, unwilling to make concessions, unwilling to put himself out. And he is indifferent to my giving.

I will be the first to say that we've been struggling for a while; being new parents involves a lot of stress, dropping our budget from 2 full salaries to 1 salary creates stress, creating from scratch and running a business is stressful, trying to pay off debt can be stressful, moving in with roommates can cause stress. Stress, stress, everywhere. We haven't handled it well, and rather than coming together to battle it, we've come apart. I am not happy where we are now. I have felt for some time that change is needed.

But if I had my choice, in all honesty, I think I would choose for us to change together.

Something Beautiful

On Not Posting for Some Time, and Now Posting Again

For a long time after Ravenna's birth I wasn't able to find the time to post or update. Or really, to log onto my computer at all. I still have backlogs of email dating from them until now that I haven't really touched.

More recently I've started having time here and there where I could post, but I've had a sort of ethical issue with it. Right now, a huge percentage of my world is family life. Most of the things that I find myself wanting to express have to do with Ravenna or with Jaimes. But I make no secret of who I am on this journal. Perhaps nobody reads it any longer, since I have gone so long without updating, but in the past people who knew me read it. People who knew me peripherally read it. I've had the experience, several times, of meeting someone for the first time, only for them to tell me that they read my journal.

Thus it becomes a privacy issue.

Not for myself, so much; I started blogging during a time in my life when I felt all muddled about who I was, when I felt that I was too often tailoring what I showed of myself to each individual I interacted with, showing them only what I thought they wanted to see. Also, I felt that I was starting to live my life in a way that I was ashamed of. I was making choices without integrity, and wanted to hide them from others. I wasn't okay with myself, and that is a nasty, poisonous feeling. If you don't care for yourself, if you disapprove of your own choices, if you are drowning in guilt, how is anyone else supposed to know you or care for you? You're not a whole person, you're just a shard.

In a low moment, at a turning point, I thought that, if I started to write about my life with complete frankness and honesty, if I forced myself to be open about everything I was thinking and doing, either I would start thinking and doing only that which I was able to write about, or in the course of exposing and examining myself and my actions, even if nothing about me changed, I would start to accept myself for who I was. Either way, giving up some level of privacy was essential to the spirit of this exercize, and I did so intentionally from the very beginning.

But...

Yes, a "but".

But these days, it's not just about my privacy. If so much of what I would have written the last year or so would have been about Jaimes, then it is an issue of his privacy, too. If people who know me can find and read this blog, people who know him read it too, and what right have I to air our laundry out in the open when it affects him, and peoples' perceptions of him, as well? I don't want people to judge him based on my highly biased viewpoint.

I suppose it is about Ravenna's privacy, as well, although that doesn't give me the same sort of pause. Maybe because she's a baby, still, and I feel that whatever I post about her, people won't judge her for it. We aren't as quick to judge babies, somehow. Maybe we see them as still unformed. Pure. Full of potential. Whatever bias I have, I don't think anything I say, at least at this point in her life, will affect peoples' perceptions of her, or the relationships that she forms with others. She is still too new, and too insulated.

So, privacy is of import.

Jaimes's privacy, in particular.

Here I am posting, anyway. Why is that?

Here's why. I am sitting at a changing point in my life. We are sitting at changing points in our lives, our little family. Jaimes's privacy is going to be less and less an issue, because we are not so intimately entwined these days. Jaimes and I are separating.

So here I am, sitting on top of a ledge...behind me I see a life all entangled with his, and ahead of me I see a life all my own again. As such, I feel more comfortable owning it, writing about it, and airing it in this forum. Maybe journaling again will help me sort myself out.

I Am Like the Vine

". . .When the Buddha taught his First Noble Truth, he elaborated the gnawing sense of incompleteness that underlies much of our experience. As if he were describing the Second Law of Thermodynamics (that every isolated thing is moving toward a more disorganized state) or Freud's reality principle (that pleasure cannot be maintained indefinitely but must always give way to unpleasure), the Buddha evoked the unrest, instability and uncertainty that color our lives. In the face of these qualities, which he called the three marks of existence, we all feel yearning or longing. In the psychodynamic world, this yearning or longing is sometimes described in the language of the psychoanalyst Melanie Klein, as the depressive position. In the curious reverse language of psychoanalysis, the depressive position is considered a developmental achievement because it acknowledges the feelings that come with an acceptance of separateness. The ability to see things the way they are, not to expect constant gratification but to understand that all things are limited, is what allows for personal growth. . ."

("Open to Desire" by Mark Epstein, M.D.)\

I have so much trouble with this, with accepting separateness. I want to be one with everything. With everyone. I don't want to be an individual connecting with other individuals...it's scary. I know this is illogical, irrational. But still, I feel it.

This gets in the way of relationships. With friends, with lovers. With family. These rose colored glasses I wear, they keep me in a state of denial. And then I can't ever see anyone for who they really are, and in trying to pull them into myself, I keep them at bay.

Interestingly, this seems similar to the stage Ravenna is going through. She is beginning to understand that she and I are not one, that she is an individual separate from me. And she does not like it. It makes her anxious, and she clings to me.

I, in turn, cling to everyone around me.

I am like the vine.