I want to be a masseuse! It's got to be awesome, working a job where your sole purpose is making people feel good.

It would also be so awesome to actually work with my hands. I miss all the artsy-fartsy stuff I used to do -- getting my hands dirty, working things around, being physical and earthy and connected to the elements around me. Massage would meet some of that again.

I am in love with Ben Gibbard. The Postal Service makes me so happy.

Oops -- I've been doing that thing again where I'm so excited about everything else going on that I forget to eat meals.

Woah, coolness -

Maria has a friend who is studying to be a masseuse. In the pursuit of this goal, the friend has to do a certain number of practice hours for various massages.

She was going to do some of those hours on Maria, only the massage table won't fit in Maria's house. So she said if Maria could find a friend willing to share their space, she would give them a massage, too. They had someone else lined up, only that person has gone AWOL, so they contacted me to see if they could do it here. I made sure they were okay with doing it in a place with animals, decided that things would probably fit if I pushed my living room furniture around, and then invited them to come on over. They'll be here soon. I've never had a professional (or pre-professional) massage before - so exciting!

I met the posture-challenge today with mixed success. I did well when I was thinking about it, but whenever I stopped thinking about it I reverted to my old, slouchy ways.

I exchanged my rolly desk chair for one of the straight-backed guest chairs; that seemed to help a bit. Didn't fix the problem though. I still caught myself slouching over in it far too often.

Ah well. Tomorrow I will wage another battle in this war against slouchiness.

Oops. I went to visit Jaimes & Rachel's site today, typing it into the browser by memory, only I accidentally put a .com instead of a .net and hit some questionable content. This in an environment where questionable content is not cool. I hate when that happens.

Today I'm issuing myself a challenge: keep good posture all the day long.

I figure if I can start maintaining good posture at work, at home, when active, when in repose, I will have easier time of maintaining good posture while dancing. Anything to be a better dancer!

These are my initial starter rules:

• Stand up on my own weight. Don't be leaning against every damn wall I come across!


• It is not necessary to slouch down into the bus seat like a Popple trying to turn inside out.


• Do not lock my joints, especially my knees and hips. Use muscle mass to hold my body weight.


• Give up the whole crossing-the-legs thing for a bit. When I cross my legs, it twists my spine up and all my posture goes to pot. This may not be the way it has to work, but it's the way I do it right now. So for now, I'm giving it up, cold turkey.


• Think about breathing. Breathe in deeply. Use my diaphragm. Breathe in - stomach expands, breathe out - stomach deflates.


• Don't slouch, don't slouch, don't slouch! It is possible to sit up with good posture, even when reading my book. Crazy, but true.

I don't think I can remember a day where I maintained posture all day long. I'm a slouch-a-holic. But today, it all changes; it's the start of a new era in Kathydom.

Some days, I need to start the morning with chocolate cake for breakfast.

Not all mornings.

Not even most mornings.

But every once in a while, there's a day that needs that extra kick. Something out of the ordinary and special to start it off on the right foot.

Today was a chocolate cake day.

I have so much trouble getting up in the morning these days. I was considering a 5:30 AM daily yoga course, but there's no way I'll be able to do that if I can't drag myself out of bed before 7:30.

So much of my life goes to sleep. I wish I could just take all that time back.

What I want, what drives me, changes incredibly from day to day. Changes even minute to minute.

Things that seemed extraordinarily important just a month ago seem to hardly matter now.

Things that seemed wrong a week ago seem now as if they might be okay.

Things that seemed right just a few days ago now cause me second thoughts.

I feel like I hardly know myself. Because my feelings are not consistent and because I am overly prone to act on feelings, I never know quite how I'll act. I don't know what choices I'll make. I might swear myself to some course of action, but half an hour later I'll suddenly about-face and do the opposite. And somehow, so often when this happens, I feel surprised. Surprised! - at my own chosen course of action!

Crazy, eh?

Why do I do that?

Do I not know what I want? Does this happen because I am living in some weird sort of denial? Do I want things that I feel I should not want, so I then waffle back and forth? Am I just flakey?

I feel like I can't trust myself. If I can't trust myself, how can anyone else trust me?

So many questions. Perhaps with more thought I'll have some sort of insight. Currently, though, I am lost as to why I'm so all over the map lately.

Wrote some more blogs today that I guess shouldn't sit out in public right now. I really need to get on that whole content-protected site idea.

I spaced yesterday afternoon and blew off a balboa practice with Patrick. I'm pretty annoyed with myself. Need to be less flakey.

I'm going to miss The Rice Milk Brothers DJing at Sonny's tomorrow. Bummer.

I feel a bit like Cinderella, living my one-night fairy-tale dream. I'm just waiting for the clock to strike midnight and everything to revert, because certainly blissfulness such as this cannot last.

Man, Kevin's band was on tonight! And when they played danceable numbers, I had some of my best lindy dances in recollection.

Alex picked up some sweet blues skills sometime when I wasn't looking. He's really got that sexy-stomach-lead thing going on right now. So delectable!

I wore the same outfit that I wore to tango last night. Wanted to try it out in a swing environment, see if it worked. Nobody was supposed to notice -- last night was tango, and tonight was going to be all swing dancers. But so many people were there that I wasn't expecting; I saw at least four of the same people. Bullocks! On the bright side, the outfit was great for swing dancing. On the dark side, it all smells like smoke now. The joy of bars.

Tonight, 10:00 pm - Kevin Buster at the Bada Lounge!

I've been meaning to make it out to his gig over there for months, but tonight I'm finally going to get my $#|+ in gear and head on over. If you're into jazz or lindy, come out and join me. Should be good times.

I need to remember not to eat potatoes. Every time I do, I end up feeling all cruddy and achey all the rest of the day.

This morning I thought it might be okay to some of the potatoes that came with my brunch, even though I usually avoid them. Bad idea. I've been sore and out of sorts ever since.

Mental note: don't do that anymore.

Spent the last 20 minutes or so making plans to get the brunch crew together.

For the last several months, I and most of my better friends have made a tradition out of Sunday brunches. We get together either Sunday morning or early afternoon and all head out to eat and hang together. These folk are almost like my family. It's so great to have a moment in time every week that I get to look forward to time spent with them. I feel more connected, more rooted. Happy.

Several people are out of town today so it will be a smaller crew than normal. Should still be good, though.

Usually I do most of the calling around on Sundays, but today those who are coming all called me. That was nice! I love when other people show initiative like that. It's silly, but their taking the time to do something as small as calling me makes me feel so appreciated and cared for. Ironically enough, I'm terrible at showing that sort of initiative myself. Outside of this Sunday morning gig, I have a hard time calling friends and setting things up. I'm working on that and I've gotten better, but it's still a real weak point for me.

Off to get ready.

I just got done watching Boys Don't Cry. Hilary Swank gave an amazing, captivating performance. The film itself, though, was so agonizingly sad. And that it's based on a true story -- I want to believe things like that can't actually happen, that we live in a better world. It's painful to watch. But for all that, it's done so well. It has left quite an imprint on me; will be difficult to forget it any time sooon.

Sprouts make me happy.

Too bad that they're apparently notorious for spreading food-bourne illnesses. A sandwich made with sprouts is so much more exciting!

Happily eating my sprouts now. If I die this weekend you'll all know why, and you can go report my case to the FDA.

Maria just called to invite me to a fondue party! So exciting.

First off, Maria is adorable. Second off, she thought to invite me! Third off, I've never had fondue; what an exciting adventure it would be.

I don't know if I'll be able to go -- if Mary's birthday-ice-cream-outing runs too late, I'll just be out of luck. I'm really happy anyhow, though! Strange how little things like a silly invitation can turn my mood all around.

The Northeast is colder than Mars, at least during lunchtime. Poor Northeasterners.

My new officemate said that I can blog whatever I want about him, as long as I don't blog anything he says about other people. Nice. Very reasonable.

I like the guy, I've decided. Glad to be working with him.

We're famous! Er, sort of. Manzell, the captain of my Ultimate Frisbee team, got himself and our team reference in the most recent edition of The Stranger. Pretty crazy.

I apparently got my right and left contacts mixed up at some point down the line. Bah! Right, left -- I'm old enough that I shouldn't have problems with that anymore.

As Louie and I were walking by one of the sketchier parts of my neighborhood just now, someone climbed out of a dumpster right beside me. I was not expecting that, so it startled me. Vaguely disconcerting when that happens.

Steve accidentally left his bag in his car last night, so he has to stop by on his way to work. And since he has to stop by, we might as well go together, so I get to carpool with Steve and Dan. Sweet! Carpools are the shiznit. They get you there faster and more directly than the bus, but you still don't have to worry about parking or getting your car home in the nasty afternoon traffic.

Mary had a really good birthday dance tonight at the Russian Center tonight. She danced amazingly well and you could tell that she was really enjoying it. Then afterwards, we had a birthday cake for she and Gretchen. So nice! Sometimes the swing dance scene really gets to feeling like a family of sorts. Very warm.

Susan and Jay stopped by to Lindy after the Tango dance. Really nice surprise seeing them there.

It was a terrible night for my dancing -- I was somehow out of sorts and just wasn't feeling it -- but overall, despite that, a wonderful night. Usually when my dancing is off it brings me down, but tonight I was able to maintain a good feeling anyhow. I'm glad for that.

The last few days set me thinking and I realized that, especially now that I almost consider us friends, I didn't feel good about having posts up about my ex-officemate without his knowledge.

So I cleared the air.

I told him about the blog today. Past and present, good posts and bad.

He says he isn't crazy about the idea, but it's okay. I feel better for him knowing.

I told my new officemate about my blog. He doesn't really understand blogging, although he thinks it might be a generational difference. There are perhaps 10 years between us and he thinks people today are more voyeuristic. He grew up in an environment where you let your family and maybe your close friends see all your quirks and oddities, but it stays in the family. You keep strangers out.

Anyhow, I don't know whether younger people are more voyeuristic or not. I can see where blogging might seem strange to him; I am putting a lot of myself out here for anyone to see.

I don't really think of it that way, though. I think of it more as a personal exercise. On the one hand, I am exploring myself through my writing. On another hand, it is a tool that pushes me to think more consciously these days about how I live my life. I don't want to feel that I have anything to hide. When I think something or do something and then find that I am uncomfortable writing about it, it makes me think. I question things that I wouldn't have questioned before I started blogging.

Some of my friends are uncomfortable reading my blog. They say it makes them feel like they are eavesdropping on something private. I can respect that. I can also respect the people who choose to read it. I think I'd still write it even if nobody chose to read it, though -- I feel that I write mostly for myself. At the same time, I am not going to hide it, either.

My officemate compared it to windows and blinds.

"Do I leave the blinds open?" I don't always -- if I have a window facing a busy street, I might close the blinds -- but if it is possible to look into my window but less likely that people would randomly come across it, I will tend to leave it open. Part of it is laziness. I love sunshine, and I'd rather leave it open so the sun will shine in the next morning without my having to do anything. Part of it, though, is that I don't like feeling like I have something to hide. I want to always push the boundaries of where I'm comfortable. If I get to feeling that I have things to hide, I want to tackle that head-on and change how I feel.

He doesn't think of it as "I've something to hide", but thinks of it more as "What the hell are you doing looking in? What right do you have to be invading my privacy?" External view as opposed to internal.

Very reasonable. I can respect it. But it's not my view.

Anyhow, as for my blog: this is who I am. I am not ashamed. I have nothing to hide. I'm not going to get my panties in a bundle whether you decide to look in or not; I've left the shades open on purpose. Read it if you like, pass over it if you'd rather -- either way is fine by me.

I burnt my tongue on my lunch today.

I burnt my tongue yesterday, too.

I hate the feeling of a burnt tongue -- I need to stop doing that. Doesn't matter how hungry I am, when I've just finished preparing my food, I need to learn to wait until it cools a bit before eating.

My joints, especially my wrists, ache right now. I was wondering for a moment if it mightn't be the weather, but then I remembered that it was probably related to lugging a 40 lb bag of dogfood home from the local pet store just a bit ago.

Outside of the less-than-optimal meeting this morning, today was a good day at work. Made headway with a customer on one issue, helped Mr_X1 troubleshoot several issues in his development environment, and made significant headway on a bug that Mr_X2 and I have been chipping away at the last few weeks. I might even be able to pass that bug off my plate tomorrow and get the fix worked into the project team's next version drop. It's nice to head home at the end of the day and have so many loose ends tied up.

Now I'm back to the cleaning project I've got going full-time in my apartment. Sorting through old clothes, filing away old bills, doing month's worth of accounting, shelf-papering all the drawers and shelves in my kitchen, unpacking boxes that I still haven't gotten to even though I've been living here over half a year, etc... overwhelming, really. Feels like all these ends will never be tied.

Interesting note: Blogger's spellchecker does not recognize the word 'blog'.

Add me to the ranks of people who have been reprimanded by their employer for their blogs.

As a result, the following will occur:

• Over the course of this week, I will go back and edit or remove all questionable posts that I have written since starting work with my current employer.



• I will no longer blog from work. Should I find myself stuck waiting for a compile or for a test case to finish timing out, I will find some other productive way in which to spend my time.



• Going forward, I will make sure that there is no way to identify my employer, the client I am contracting for, or my co-workers from anything I do post. In my writing, so that they cannot be identified, I may refer to my employer as Company_A, to the client I contract for as Company_B, or to various people by assorted nom de plumes. Even then, however, I will be watching my content.



• At some point in the future, I will implement a secure content-management system. Most posts on the site will remain public. To view all posts, however, you will need to create an account and password and have me grant you certain rights.

Two side notes:

• If you, dear reader, happened across my blog without my knowledge and were offended by some of what you read, I apologize. The writing here was never meant to hurt anyone. Rather, it was only ever meant to be an outlet in which I could explore my feelings and chronicle my day-to-day-life.



• About my late officemate -- I realize that I vented terribly about him on this blog. Strangely enough, in outing my negative feelings here I was somehow able to interact more positively with him in person. I believe we actually realized a healthy, happy relationship the last few months of his stay here, and I genuinely miss him now that he is gone.

Mr_X1, my new officemate and dev, thinks I should be able to negotiate myself a higher salary because of all the knowledge I've gained about these products I'm working on. Funny.

I've actually been stressing the last few days because I got a cryptic message from my Company_A boss telling me to stop in tomorrow because we "need to talk about some things". In the past she hasn't really pulled me in unless she thought there was a problem, so I am not confident that the meeting tomorrow will lead to good things.

So, anyhow, Mr_X1 thinks it will be okay. I've been helping him ramp up on stuff the last week or two, and I've been helping out the other folks on the team recently as well. I have apparently impressed him quite a bit in the process, and he things will turn out well. If they don't, he's offered to do a rain dance for me. So sweet.

Here's hoping things do go well.

I am amazed sometimes at how airheaded I can be. I put a load of laundry into the dryers this morning and forgot about it until now. 12 hours the poor load was alone downstairs, left to fend for itself in a building filled with at least a few crazy people.

I miss sexual intimacy. I wonder if that will cause me to value it more whenever I have it again.

I went out clubbing tonight with gay-Chris and Jonathon. It was nice, although I felt ever-so-slightly like a third wheel.

When I was out with John last night, we got to talking about past relationships. He was in a relationship with a woman for 9 years. The first 4 were on and off -- she'd want to date someone else for a while, and then she'd come back to him. Then, in the 4th or 5th year, it was like there was a switch or something -- all of a sudden she was content to be with him, didn't leave him or cheat on him anymore, and they were happy together. Then, 8 years into the relationship, they moved into an apartment together in New York and things went downhill. They found they just couldn't live together. After 9 months they mutually agreed that things weren't working. They went on their separate ways.

John talked about being alone for the year after that. That's when he really got interested in music and started picking up guitar. He'd go to work, come home, play guitar for five hours, sleep, and then start it all again. He also became more introspective during that time and started really taking a good look at himself, at what motivates him, at what drives him, at all of his behaviors and root causes for those behaviors. All in all, it sounds like it was a real growing experience for him, and he came out the other end a stronger person. Changed for the better. I don't know what he was like before, but I like who he is now.

Brian, also, seems to have changed and grown tremendously through this last year without Jaimie. The more I talk to him these days, the more impressed I am. An amazing man.

Alone time -- "not a bad thing". It can provide such space and impetus for change, for self-improvement.

Why, then, is it so hard for me to be alone for even a few weeks? Why do I feel that, instead of growing for the better, I'm sliding backwards? I'm becoming more self-involved, treating friends less well, pushing people away. I'm carving out more room for myself within my own life, but then I just use that room to sit around and mope.

My behavior toward family and friends is not becoming when I am feeling lonely and self-involved. The worst part is that I can see how it's all spiraling downwards, but I can't bring myself to stop it. My pride, or my hurt, or my loneliness -- something gets in the way. I feel like I'm on a train that's running out of control; I can see how off course it is and how it's fated to crash, but I'm powerless to stop it.

Now Mary's mad at me, and I feel like she was the one being unkind to me in the first place. Great.

From the Birthday Calendar (which I found as a link off of Mary's-other-Alex's Live Journal):

Your bithday: 3/26/1978

You were born on a Sunday
under the astrological sign Aries.
Your Life path number* is 9.

The Julian calendar date* of your birth is 2443593.5.
The golden* number for 1978 is 3.
The epact* number for 1978 is 21.
The year 1978 was not a leap year.

As of 1/10/2004 10:26:36 AM CST

You are 25 years old.
You are 310 months old.
You are 1,345 weeks old.
You are 9,421 days old.
You are 226,114 hours old.
You are 13,566,866 minutes old.
You are 814,011,996 seconds old.
There are 76 days till your next birthday

and there are 350 days till Christmas 2004!

The moon's phase on the day you were
born was waning gibbous.

Moon's age (days): 17
Distance (Earth radii): 59.04
Percent Illumination 93.66%
Ecliptic latitude (degrees): 2.25
Ecliptic longitude (degrees): 208.17

* Terms:
Golden Number: A number showing the year of the lunar or Metonic cycle. It is reckoned from 1 to 19, and is so called from having formerly been written in the calendar in gold.
Epact Number: The moon's age at the beginning of the calendar year, or the number of days by which the last new moon has preceded the beginning of the year.
The Life Path Number: The Life Path is the sum of the birth date. This number represents who you are at birth and the native traits that you will carry with you through life. The most important number that will be discussed here is your Life Path number. The Life Path describes the nature of this journey through life.
Julian date: The number of days since noon 4713 BC January 1.

I don't know anything about Astrology. I'd never before heard of a "life path number". I don't know that I put much credence into it, but I think it might be interesting reading sometime.

I'm using Pine for my mail again for the first time in 8 years or so. I missed Pine.

I also miss the days when I used to connect to the Internet through a BBS. Back then I was always connected alongside a community of people, almost all of whom I knew. I'd learn how to do cool things by constantly checking to see what commands other people were using, and particularly watching the commands of the people who knew their $h\+. I'd figure stuff out by browsing into other people's home directories and checking out their config files, trying the same settings out on my own to see what they did. Whenever I found anything really cool, I'd make sure to write it down in my trusty yellow notebook which I always kept handy.

It's just me on this sad little box. Nobody to learn from, noone to inspire me.

I finished reading The Third Life of Grange Copeland tonight. It really touches on the human experience, on strong human emotion.

Do not expect to read this book and feel uplifted. I want, always, to believe the best of people. To look for redeeming qualities. To practice forgiveness above all things. This book challenges those notions. Can all acts be redeemed? Are some people beyond redemption? Can forgiveness be a downfall?

The book toys with the idea of degradation. It explores the depths to which people can bring one another down. Strong ideas, but difficult. It also explores the notions of worlds at war, of power inequities, part of a world dominating over the rest. It questions whether good can ever come of that.

Good book. Didn't always make me comfortable, but it made me think. Made me question myself. Worth reading, if you get a chance.

Just got done watching Rabbit-Proof Fence with Mary. A very powerful film.

This woman's fiancee built a snow-making machine to transform her yard and give her a white Christmas. I read that and thought "Mary". I could totally see her Alex doing something like that for her, and she would love him forever for it.

Fun with Tinfoil! How come I can never think up great pranks like that?

Say the company you are contracting for has a strict policy on things like account sharing and giving out of passwords.

Then say that you are being explicitly told to violate this policy by your manager at this company. That manager is a full time employee of the company whose policy you are violating. Management at the compnay you work directly for are aware of this, as well, and are complicit. They expect that you will go along.

What do you do? Do you stop and throw a fuss? Do you just go along with it? What if you are concerned that making an issue of it could cost you your job, both at the company you are contracting for and at the company that directly employs you?

As I was walking my dog just now, an odd little man came up behind me and shouted something unintelligible. It might have been, "...doing the dog!", but I'm really not sure. Out of the corner of my eye, I noted a stream of liquid shooting out from his person.

"Oh no, he's not -" I thought to myself.

We were on Pine, one of the busier streets on Capitol Hill. Granted, it was dark and rainy out, but still, it's a city street with significant pedestrian and automobile traffic.

I turned to look. Sure enough, there was a brown penis hanging out. Er... not really hanging; it was pretty erect. But not so erect so as to keep him from peeing -- he was happily directing a stream of piss all over the sidewalk as he walked up next to me! I stopped in my tracks, looked around me, looked at my dog. Stood in disbelief.

I think he tucked his penis back into his pants, and then he continued on his merry way. Some other guy passed him coming the other way and stopped to ask me what breed Louie was -- hadn't even noticed the whole man-peeing-in-public-incident, even though he'd been walking toward us, not even half a block away, as it had happened.

It's a mad, mad world.

I will not get sick, I will not get sick, I will not get sick...

I'm doing the Andy-thang and brewing a cup of tea with two teabags.

One is "Orange Spice", to ward of the cold I feel coming on.

The other is "I Love Lemon", to soothe my throat and sinuses.

Hopefully it will taste yummy, as well, although I'm so sick of Bigelow tea (of any flavor) that I have little faith.

Snow in Seattle wouldn't be as bad if they would plow the streets or shovel the sidewalks. We shouldn't have to wait for it to melt off!

The whole "closing streets" thing is sort of crazy. Closing a street because it has snow and is on an incline, instead of plowing it? And the people who drive on those streets despite the closing are crazy, too. And then there are the street lights, half of which they have set to a blinking red. It's all one big safety hazard.

I'm glad I did not drive today. Walking in the city, especially coming down from Capitol Hill on the wet, snowy sidewalks with cars careening everywhere on the street beside me, is scary enough. I'd have to be mad to drive there right now.

Hopefully the snow, slush, and remaining ice will melt away while I'm at work today, since there seem to be no indications that they'll plow it away any time soon.

Everything's crazy outside.

I decided to take the bus home from work and leave my car in the parking garage. It was just as well -- Denny Way, the street that leads up to the hill I live on, was closed because of the snow. I would have had quite a time getting my car back to my apartment building.

As I was hiking up the hill, I passed an accident involving a city bus, a truck, and I'm not sure what else. The medics were still there trying to clean everything up.

A little further up the hill, more medics were working with someone lying against a streetpole. I'm not sure if they had slipped and fallen, or what. Anyhow, the person had a neck brace on, and the medics were trying to get them onto a stretcher and figure out how to safely move them. The ground was steep and slippery, providing them quite a challenge.

At the top of the hill was another accident, involving at least three cars. No medics there, but there were police.

And all over the hill were people sledding down, right in the middle of the street, on sleds, trays, and even on a futon mattress.

Crazy.

Seemed strangely appropriate. All the chaos outside. And then inside me is chaos, as well -- my emotions tonight have been up and down and all over the wall.

I hate everyone.

I made Jon's blog! 15 seconds of fame, and I'm going to savor them all.

I just called John ("Uncle John", of Rachel & Jaimes' house) and asked him if he'd like to hang out with me sometime. We've never hung out on our own before -- we've seen each other only in the company of Jaimes, Rachel, and any number of other people, or at Tango dances every now and again.

For those of you who don't know, this is a big deal for me. I don't just call people I don't know all that well, or ask them to hang out with me. I mean, once I get to know them and am certain that we have already settled on grounds for a friendship, I'm happy to call. But until then? It sounds like a conundrum; I don't call or ask people to hang out until we're friends, but then how do we ever actually get to be friends in the first place?

I'm not sure how it works. Maybe, since most of the people I am friends with now were swing dancers or were friends-of-friends, I had plenty of opportunity to get to know them as friends before actually having to face up to taking initiative and calling or looking to spend time together on our own. Or maybe my friends tend to be better at reaching out initially than I am -- Jaimes certainly falls into that bucket. Or maybe, without even thinking about it, I grab email addresses before phone numbers whenever I can so that I can deal with new people in a less intimidating medium?

Whatever the case, I called John, despite not having a settled history of friendship. We're going to hang out on Friday! I will also see him at Tango on Wednesday if I stay in town instead of going to Tacoma.

I am excited. I think shaking up my social life a little bit will help jump-start me out of this emotional slump I've been caught in. And John is interesting and fun to be around. Should be good times! Be happy for me, that I am being so brave.

I think I like Counterpunch.

I was browsing through the finalist ads for MoveOn.Org's "George Bush in 30 Seconds" ad competition just now. They brought to mind all sorts of things that I like not to think about, because they're just too depressing. In light of friendships, 2003 may have been a good year for me personally, but it's been a pretty stinky year in so many other ways.

I swear, if we re-elect G.W., I'm finding some way to move to Canada.

It brings me down when it seems as if people are being untruthful about their intentions.

If they want to blow me off, fine -- I'll find a way to deal with that. I just wish they wouldn't put on a big show about how they've really got my best interests in mind, as if they're actually trying to do right by me.

I hate the Amazon.com UI (or lack thereof). It wasn't too bad when the site was slimmer and there wasn't so much functionality, but now there's so much mess that even the simplest tasks get lost.

Alex says the problem is that there wasn't a UI team until recently. Now there is, and they're doing a rehaul of the entire site, and it should be better when that rolls out. Here's hoping.

Seattle Blizzard! My first!

I drove to work today. Sadly, I lost control of my car not even a block from my house. I was heading down the Olive St. hill to turn onto Bellevue, traveling at about 5 miles an hour and dutifully pumping my breaks, but I slid out anyway, into the middle of the intersection. I was lucky that nobody was approaching in the near lane, and the guy in the far lane was able to stop in time.

The rest of the drive was without incident. I don't think I ever drove more than 30 mph, and even that felt pretty fast much of the time. My average speed for the entire trip was probably 15 mph.

"Blizzard 2004" was the topic of conversation on the radio. KEXP was running a snow theme with all their songs this morning. It made me smile. The drive was enjoyable, at least, if long and tedious.

Anyhow, now I'm here, and I'm here safely.

The lot is pretty empty today. Not everyone is dumb enough to come in. I'm sure many of the folks taking the day off are salaried, though, so they can afford a day off better than I can. I'd take it off too, except that I'm freaking out about being able to pay for my upcoming wisdom tooth extractions and cannot afford another docked paycheck.

On the bright side, I actually got to park my car underground today. I think I might just leave it there tonight and bus home; it's a nicer spot in a snowstorm than my alleyway parking back at the apartment building.

Yay snow.

If we got a real, solid blizzard like this every year, I would be completely content in Seattle, I think. Driving is a mess, it's cold as hell, and even just stepping out to walk my dog is a pain in the butt right now, but I feel at home and I am happy.

Mary got up at 6:00 am to make waffles for her Alex and I. I'm so lucky to have such wonderful people surrounding me, always reaching out somehow to show they care.

I think that she and he have decided that I need taking care of right now, but honestly, I don't mind. The attention and affection does seem that much more special in the face of all the up and down going on right now in the rest of my life.

I'm so happy my Mar came to live out here! That, of all things, may be the lasting highlight for me of the year 2003.

Actually, now that I think about it, 2003 was a good year for amazing people becoming a part of my day to day life. It brought Mary out here, it brought Brian back as a friend and confidante, it brought Andrew, and it brought me Jaimes and Rachel. Not such a shabby year at all.

It's been an amazing roller coaster ride, Brian, but I think I'm almost at the point where I want, of my own accord, to get off and go on home. Even now I'm checking for my keys in my pocket and trying to remember where I parked my car.

All around me are familiar faces
Worn out places, worn out faces
Bright and early for their daily races
Going nowhere, going nowhere
Their tears are filling up their glasses
No expression, no expression
Hide my head, I want to drown my sorrow
No tomorrow, no tomorrow

And I find it kind of funny
I find it kind of sad
The dreams in which I'm dying
Are the best I've ever had
I find it hard to tell you
I find it hard to take
When people run in circles
It's a very, very
Mad World

- from Mad World as sung by Gary Jules (remade from the Tears for Fears song)

This song closes out Donnie Darko. I've had it stuck in my head ever since I watched the movie on Friday.

I was excited enough by the Friday showing that I've put the movie into my Netflix queue so that I can watch it again this week.

Anyhow, "Mad World" -- quite a poignant tune. Haunting, almost.

Wired News, a year ago, posted an article claiming that people are drawn to Macs because they resemble children and trigger a fostering instinct. It asserts that Macs have childlike features, like big-eyed characters in Japanese anime.

Bell-ringer or bunk? Does this mean that I am lacking some motherly instinct because I have never been drawn to a Mac myself?

Jon says that my blog "is composed of an army of tiny little entries, and every so often there's one that's big and Lieutenant-like". Such a colorful description! Makes my head swell. I like it.

So, here you go -- another little soldier to stand dutifully among the rest.

Check out the last panel in this FoxTrot comic -- it's a Snow-Minnesota! Jon says Manitoba, but he's wrong. Seriously. Yeah, yeah, yeah, I see the pattern in all the previous panels, but it looks like Minnesota! Minnesota is too awesome for it NOT to be Minnesota, patterns be damned.

I mean, uh... I guess maybe it looks like Manitoba. But that sucks. Minnesota woulda been so much cooler.

I inadvertently missed the deadline for returning my Christmas tree to IKEA.

I'm thinking now that it might be nice now to break it down and use it for a bonfire at Golden Gardens Park. Chris says it's a touch cold these days for a trip to the beach, even with a bonfire. I think we might be okay, though, if we all dressed up warmly and went during midday, when we'd be making the most of whatever warmth the sun had to offer.

And a bonfire! On the beach! I haven't had a bonfire in years. And I've never had a bonfire on the beach! It would be an exciting winter-time adventure.

Anyone up for a romp on the beach sometime in the next week or two? Bonfire! Excitement! Intrigue! How can you hold yourself back?

I was not excited about returning to work today. After having had a full week off, and then only working three days the following week, I was not jazzed about coming back to the daily grind of corporate America.

I started the day here with a cup of coffee made in one of the French Presses Mary gave me for Christmas, brewed from the grounds she gave me. Yum! The tasty coffee, along with thoughts of Mary and happy Christmas-time memories, made the morning seem a little brighter. I feel better now about being here.

I missed the bus by half a block again today. I hate that. I would have run the extra distance, except that I was at a busy intersection and the light wasn't going my way.

While I was waiting at the stop for the next bus, Adrianne's sister Kristin walked by and said hello. Small world.

Mary and her Alex are making me dinner tonight. I feel so special! It is a bright point to look forward to in this otherwise dim day.

You better leave your almanacs at home on the shelf, or the FBI might mistake you for a terrorist.

To those of you who worry; the reason I hadn't called the vet yet about Louie's condition is that we've been through this before (with a lot more vet interaction) and I am just following the course of action the vet has had me follow in the past. I will call her today, though, to check in, so you can all rest at ease. Thank you for all the concern and good-will; Louie feels very loved.

Good news; Louie has been keeping food down again. So far he's kept down three small servings of chicken broth and rice, spread over a decent period of time. I'm still monitoring him closely, though; we may need to make a vet run tomorrow, depending on how he's doing.

Poor sick dog.

I follow several Iraqi blogs. If you ever have some spare time, check out the posts by Faiza on A Family in Baghdad. (Most are being translated into English, and the English translations are listed right underneath the original entries.) She's such an eloquent woman, and writes from the heart. Her posts touch me and make me think.

Her newer posts may not yet be translated, but dig into the archives and read a post or two that have been. I swear, it will be worth your while.

January 29 will be my blogiversary -- I will have been blogging for an entire year. Exciting!

My dog was sick to his stomach all of yesterday evening and last night. As I was mopping up his vomit this morning, it occurred to me that whenever I have kids it'll seem like nothing to take care of their stinky diapers and their spittle. I've seen it all already in the form of animal vomit and excrement, and I've become quite desensitized to dealing with it all.

Poor sick puppy. I am sad for him. I hadn't fed him yet today because I didn't want to further upset his stomach, so he hasn't eaten anything since yesterday. I just made him some fresh chicken broth and rice, but can't coax him into eating any of it. He just sits in the corner looking dejected and unhappy. Sad.

To be fair, I don't think I should try and pigeonhole my emotional experience into a single schema such as the 5 stages of grief, and I don't think that those five stages fully cover the depth and breadth or the complexity of my emotions. I think, rather, that the 5 stages are merely a convenient medium, allowing me to easily and quickly illustrate a rough sketch of my recent mental process. If you read the 5 stages of grief link, Article 8 - Beware the Five Stages of Grief is an interesting counterpoint that touches on some of what I'm trying to say here.

I've been thinking this morning about how the 5 stages of grief (adapted from Elizabeth Kubler-Ross' book, "On Death and Dying") correspond to my feelings these last few weeks. Denial, Anger/Resentment, Bargaining, Depression -- all very familiar. I haven't traversed through them in any fliud order and I've revisited all of them more than once, but I have felt all these things so I think her stages of grief may apply to me to some degree.

The last two or three days, I've begun to notice a change. Every now and then, I start to feel acceptance. It's not that I don't feel any of the others anymore -- I still bounce back and forth quite a bit -- but I feel calmer, more serene, and it's like... it's almost like acceptance is a magnet and I can feel it subtly pulling me in. It's the strongest of all the stages, I think. I may not feel it all the time at first, but it will pull me back time and time again and eventually it will be where I settle and rest. I feel this as a promise that I can look forward to, even when fear pulls me again towards denial or depression or resentment.

I just finished watching a cute little Japanese movie called Shall We Dance? with Andy and Mary. Ah, what times we have!

Now off to food and drinks and games, and then later, Mary, her Alex, and I will join gay-Chris and Co. for a jaunt to the Rocky Horror Picture Show. Oh happy, happy night.

Woah! The AP syndicated the article about my mother, and now she's in the news everywhere!

Don't Stand So Close to Me by The Police just came on the radio.

I was molested by a teacher in high school. It's been so long that it's nothing personal anymore, just a fact of my childhood that subtly influences who I am today.

Anyhow, it's been over nine years since that period of my life, but the song still gets to me the same as ever. I stop whatever I'm doing, my heart in my throat, caught up in a momentary flash of memories. I wonder how much all of that stuff still affects the way I approach intimacy and relationships now.

It used to be that I was unable to be intimate with anyone, sexually or otherwise. Eventually, I moved to on from that to a form of interaction where I was sexually intimate with a number of people, but I used sexuality to kill emotional intimacy and was even less able to be emotionally close to anyone.

The last five or six years, I have made a better effort towards attempting relationships that were both physically and emotionally intimate. Sometimes I've done alright. Other times I've failed miserably. There are still triggers that cause me to panic. I still act in ways that are completely destructive. I still oscillate between several poor behavioral patterns.

Sometimes I return to over-sexuality, using sexuality as an emotional barrier. There is an urge, when I feel myself becoming especially close to someone, to reach out and be sexual with others so as to wound and scare the one person away. Certainly not a healthy inclination. I am not proud to say that I have given into this inclination several times over the years. It generally has not ended the relationships, but it has damaged them so severely that they never really recovered.

Other times, I find myself unable to be sexual at the same time as I am emotionally intimate. During times like this I have forced my partners to deal with prolonged frigidity, even partners with whom I had previously been sexual. It seemed almost a test, to see if they could still care for me and be with me without my sexual side. Or maybe, again, I was subconsciously acting to wound and scare them away.

I don't oscillate back and forth as wildly as I once did, but I think that it's still there on a smaller scale. I believe I still do things to subtly damage relationships and push people away because, deep down, I'm still scared.

But then again, aren't we all scared? People who never had poor sexual experiences are still scared of intimacy, of commitment. Maybe I'm over-analyzing, being too ego-centric. I'm not sure.

It's strange, though, how a single song can churn up this whole mess of thoughts. Always, whenever I hear the song. And I almost never think of them otherwise.

Today feels like one of the longest days in history. Logically, I know that I spent the morning with Mary, Alex, and the other Alex, that we went to breakfast and to the dog park, but it feels so disconnected. I feel as if those events might have been days or even weeks ago. I didn't even fragment the day with naps; I meant to nap, but instead I stayed up reading and then watching Angels and Insects with Mary. Then there was dinner with Chris, Bo, Tim, Mary, and Alex, and desert at the B&O. After that, there was the movie with Tim and Chris. And it is a surreal movie.

I don't know. Maybe that was just a lot to fit into one day and my mind is rebelling at the thought that a single day could be so full. Maybe I've been stressed out and emotionally up and down enough these last few weeks that my inner clock and intuition are now malfunctioning? Or maybe I'm just tired. I am tired. That's for sure. I should sleep well tonight.

I get to hang out with gay-Chris tonight -- yay! We're all going to go eat Thai food. Later on, some of us are going to see the midnight showing of Donnie Darko at the Egyptian. Kick ass! Good friends, good food, good movies... good times.

I was complaining just a while ago that I haven't made it out to the Egyptian since I've lived in this apartment. It's about time.

Currently, I am reading The Third Life of Grange Copeland by Alice Walker. The main character, so far, is distinctly unpleasant.

It is difficult for me to read books that revolve around characters I find unlikable.

I want to like everyone. I want to see redeeming qualities and features in them, and I want this especially if I am going to immerse myself in their world. There is already so much unkindness and mean-spiritedness in the world. I dislike it, I do not understand it, and I'm not sure I want to spend my spare time reading stories about people who embody it.

Perhaps I'll change my mind about the book before the end, but right now plowing through the entirety of the book is tough going.

At the Family Pancake House today, we were discussing Moulin Rouge. I said something about the Tango scene, which starts out with one of the characters saying dramatically, "Never fall in love with a dancer!"

Mary's Alex said, "I already have," and leaned up against her, all google-eyed.

Yeah, Alex, I caught that. Too cute for words, in a sickeningly sweet sort of way.

Mary, the two Alex's, and I went to the Family Pancake House in Redmond today. At the pancake house, I had the best potato pancakes I've had yet in Seattle, with freshly made apple compote. Yum! Afterwards we headed around the block to the dog park.

The dog park was awesome. Today has been a perfect winter day!

There's still a dusting of snow covering the ground in Redmond. Every here and there are bits of ice on the walk, which crackle as you step on them. The snow crunches underfoot. It's cool, but not chilly, and a dry, crisp, clean sort of cold -- not the wet, heavy cold that typifies most Seattle winter days. The sun is out, reflecting off the snow. Everything seems so bright and perfect!

At the park, the light permeated my body and my psyche and I was happy. No reason other than the sunlight, the chill of the cool wafting up from the snow and caressing my cheeks, and the crunch of snow underfoot. And my dog added to the feeling, perhaps -- bounding here and there, an ecstatic ball of happy energy. I don't remember a winter day like this in Seattle for all the time I've been here; it felt as if this might have been the first snowfall in Minnesota. I felt so at home.

The St. Paul Pioneer Press has an article about my mother today! There's also a related article on pensions and cash balance plans by the same author.

I took Steve out to Rom Mai Thai tonight before our lesson. Yummy. He was impressed that they asked after my family.

New Year's Resolution #2:

I resolve to stop a long-held pattern of jumping from relationship to relationship, always on the rebound. I resolve to spend some time on my own before letting myself become intimately involved with anybody else. I resolve to get over past relationships before starting new ones.

I have actually been contemplating this resolution for a while, but I didn't post it until now because I am afraid it will be difficult to keep. I am not good at being alone. I do, however, realize the necessity. I firmly believe that if I can wait until I am at peace at myself as an individual to start a new relationship, the relationship will ultimately have better grounding, will be healthier, and will be more likely to succeed.

Andy asks how I will make these expectations clear to myself and my friends.

For most of you, it won't be an issue. Following are some of the expectations:

• I expect that friends will initiate contact with me sometimes, and will be warm towards me when I initiate contact with them.


• I expect that, whatever else might be going on in their lives, friends will make at least some time for me. That they will do so without trying to make me feel guilty for asking time of them. I expect that they will not be resentful of me for time that they do choose to spend with me, that they will not be angry at me for keeping them from other better things that they might have been doing.
  
  This is not to say that I expect friends to always give me frequent and large amounts of time or that I cannot understand what it is to be busy. I can deal without seeing friends for a long time. If they are unable to make certain concessions in the meanwhile, though, such as finding a few moments every once in a while to at least chat on the phone or committing to a time in the future where we will be able to see each other, then it just doesn't work.


• When there are issues with the relationship that I feel need to be addressed, I expect that my friends will find time to sit down and discuss those issues with me. I expect that they will try to keep an open mind and to keep from becoming closed and defensive, so that they can really hear what I am saying and can then help find ways to constructively address the problems. They should not see doing this as a chore to be avoided at all costs.


• I expect that friends will greet or acknowledge me when they run across me in a social situation. That they will not walk past me, trying to act as if they did not see me.


• I expect that my friends will be proud of me.
  
  Historically speaking, I have a tendency to continue nurturing relationships even when the friend or lover is ashamed of being involved with me. I overlook it when they choose to hide the relationship from at least some friends and/or family. Over time, this causes me underlying resentment and negative feelings, but I attempt to swallow them and deal with then on my own. Always, given a choice between allowing the behavior to persist and ending the friendship, I have allowed the behavior to continue.
  
  After putting some serious thought into this and talking the it over with some close friends, I have come to believe that this is not fair to me, that it is not fair to the friend, and that it is unhealthy. Most of the relationships where this has been a problem are long since over, but it still plays a role in one relationship that I have recently been trying to maintain.

95% of you meet all the expectations listed above without even thinking about it. Most of you far exceed them. The problem is with the remaining few who refuse to meet one or more of them.

In allowing this behavior to persist without consequence I inadvertently encourage it, and I create a cycle of hurt and disappointment on my part that is unhealthy and not fair to either of us. It eats away at my self-esteem, which ultimately makes me less able to be a real friend to anybody. It eats away at the foundations of the relationship and creates a pattern of denial. I deserve more than that. My friends deserve more than that.

I cannot continue to allow this sort of behavior just because I consider myself friends with someone -- I need to find a way to believe that, if we are really friends, they will want to address the behavior. That, if they are not willing, then it is not really a friendship to begin with.

I do realize that all friends will occasionally fail to meet even the simplest of expectations. I have always tried to be forgiving of that, and I plan to continue being forgiving of occasional shortcomings.

It's only when violating expectations such as these becomes chronic behavior that I need to start re-thinking the friendship. When the friend's behavior evolves into a pattern of continually letting me down, when that friend is unable or unwilling to discuss the problem and will not work to address the issues, then I need to find the strength to move on. I need to respect myself and respect them enough to be honest about when things are not working, I need to set limits, and I need to adhere to them. Really, ultimately, it becomes the other person's choice. Even if these needs are not being met, I will not turn away a friend who is willing to work with me to find ways to address them. At the same time, I cannot continue to cultivate friendships where the friend is unwilling to work with me and will not put a good faith effort toward meeting the needs listed above.

This is not something I have done in the past, but I resolve start doing it going forward. This is the plan for a better, healthier Kathy, and for more rewarding relationships between myself and everyone who remains a part of my life.

My New Year's Resolution:

I resolve to raise the bar for friends and lovers. I need to respect myself and to believe that I deserve friends who will treat me well.

There has to be a minimum set of expectations to which I can hold people who wish to be an important part of my life. If they are not willing to put a good faith effort into living up to those expectations, I must find a way to move on.

Right now, I feel that I have the almost stupid, undying loyalty of a dog. Kick me, curse me, spit on me, and I will still come running back with my tail between my legs. As Brian said to me, this can be a good trait if it is reserved for only the best of people, the few real and decent individuals you bump into and make friends. It is not healthy, however, for me to be indiscriminate about who I give that sort of loyalty to.

Happy New Years!

Alex read through several of my nightmare descriptions a while ago. He made the observation that, in all of them, I was trying to rescue something or someone.

He thinks that characters in dreams always somehow represent the dreamer, so his theory is that I had been trying to save some part of myself. I don't know if I buy that or not.

It was interesting to me, though, that he looked at the set of dreams as a whole. Rather than trying to analize any single dream, he looked for similarities across the lot of them. I would never have thought to do that.

Busy, busy, busy.

One drink to remember
And another to forget

Excuse me please, one more drink -
Could you make it strong
so I don't have to think?
She broke my heart
my Grace is Gone
One more drink and I'll move on

- from "Grace is Gone" by the Dave Matthews Band

As much as I write on here and as much as I blather on in person, I am insecure about my ability to express myself adequately via the English language.

Give me a canvas and some paints, or maybe a block of clay, and I'll happily create something that I feel suitably represents my thoughts or feelings. These are mediums in which I feel comfortable.

Words, though, leave too much room for imprecision. People can read so much into words that isn't meant, and they can miss so much even when the point has been said. I feel, with spoken or written language, like I'm wielding a sword that weighs twice as much as I do -- there is just no way for me to wield it effectively.

I am not able to be precise. The best words to capture a thought or the best way for structuring that thought often evade me.

Because I lack precision, I am not able to speak concisely. For fear that I'll leave out an idea or be misunderstood because I chose the wrong words or phrased them poorly, I instead swamp the recipient with more words than are necessary. I talk on and on. I fling adjectives here and there, hoping that one will be "the right one" and that my listener will catch my meaning. I fear that instead, this tactic often results in overloading them so that they tune out much of what I say.

I admire people who regularly manipulate language with precision -- who say what they mean, mean what they say, and convey their meaning such that it cannot be misunderstood. I almost idolize them. It's a skill that, more than anything, I wish I embodied.

Have you ever noticed strange similarities between yourself and someone else? First they get the same haircut you have. Then they start flirting with the same people that interest you. Especially if you don't know them all that well, it's a bit weird.

IT'S SNOWING!

I just took two pictures off of my balcony. Whenever I get them developed I'll get them scanned and post them here.

I love looking out at the world I know and pass through every day to see it transformed! People always say to me, "It's only a short drive to see snow in the mountains so I don't understand why you miss the snow," but they just don't understand. The mountains aren't my home. The street I live on, the trees outside my window, the street lamps that light the alleyway where my car sits; these are the things that make up my world. It's magical, a soft layer of newly fallen snow covering it in a blanket of white. Everything that was so ordinary and commonplace is suddenly new and changed. It looks different, it feels different, it smells different. It is invigorating.

So, yeah...

SNOW!

Kickass!

The only downer is that work actually got busy this afternoon and I have to go in tomorrow. I can't just stay home and play in the snow.