Divine intervention or coincidence? Who’s to say. All I know is that, although not all my problems got solved yesterday, there was definite movement on the front and in positive directions. On the vehicle issue, my father bought a new car for my mother to drive (that’s the story, I believe he just likes buying cars…either way) and so I am going to be getting my mother’s 2012 Honda CRV. It’s a fine mode of transportation, and I should be able to make the payments with a little parental assistantance (heart be not proud) at the beginning of this year. Also, I recieved an email from one of my job websites about an open position at the local television station as a technician for the sound and equipment and whatnot. I’ve had a bit of experience at a different TV station and my communication degree in tow, and so this part-time gig might be something quite nice. If I add it to the job at the used bookstore that’s been offered, then perhaps I’ll make a similar sort of pay AND be less stressed. Oh, man, it’s a lot of what-ifs at this point but they are some good ones.
Lanks came by during the madness that was Saturday night at the only cofffee shop in the mall during the holiday season, and confirmed a nagging suspicion I had that I’d seen one of his sisters in a tattoo magazine I randomly picked up. I don’t usually peruse the tattoo magazines, but I’ve been toying with the idea of getting a tattoo more and more seriously over the past year and so about a month ago I picked up two. I was flipping through one and I stopped, looked closer, and thought…”Hmm…I’m going crazy, certainly, but I do believe that that is one of Lank’s sisters.” He’s got 7 sisters. I can’t even imagine how growing up in that house must have been. And all these sisters are gorgeous. A favorable gene pool if I’ve ever seen one. He also said, very offhandedly as he does on just about everything, that his other sister has professional tattoo work done and they model all the time. When you’re livingi n the gilded spotlight, I suppose it doesn’t seem like that big of a deal, does it? Maybe it’s just the Lanks personality, because upon reflecting on his demeaonr the other day, I realized I’ve never heard him laugh out loud. Oh sure, he smiles, and does this open mouth intake of breath smile thing when he’s waiting to speak about a topic that excites him. But he’s never laughed out loud in front of me. It’s just a strange thing to me. Probably because I laugh easily and often. And when I’m really getting into a laugh…I actually cackle. Cackle. It’s about as attractrive as you can imagine a cackle sounding.
It is a very dismal day here. It’s cold and rainy and overcast and Sunday. A day to sleep and stay indoors, but we gotta use these 24 hours we have, remember? It’s amazing to think that, although some share drive and ambition like I humbly claim to, I think some people are just wrapped up in existing. It’s a struggle, for sure. And I can see how the fight to just have food and shelter and a moment’s peace is a battle that you can devote every waking hour to. I think it’s always going to be a war against the world to rise above these neccessities and go above and beyond. Some days it’s hard to feel up to the superhero struggle. And even then you’ve got the naysayers and purveyors of false information.
True, some are harmless or at least not malicious in spreading speech that has no backing, but that’s its own kind of callousness too. Those who write articles such as “He’s not into you if…” or “Things to Do to Drive Your Man Wild” are building to the base of shallow articles that really don’t offer much truth. Ok…so he didn’t call you after the first day of the first date…well, obviously you should write him off. No. I know we are all looking for some direction in the dating world and especially in the deciphering of male behavior that is apparently so puzzling, but c’mon, if you ask him out instead of the other way around, that doesn’t mean anything really except that you’ve got enough emotional secruity to go out on a limb. (Oh, and readers, I’m telling you, limb life ain’t all it’s cracked up to be). Further point I’d like to make, why is it that there are all these article about how to tell if guys are interested or how to please them, but there’s so very few articles on how to tell if a lady likes you or things that she likes? Is it because guys don’t care to read these Tiger Beat type articles or is it that it’s obvious when a women is interested or guys don’t analyze every facial expression their date makes? I’m betting on a combination of all of the above.
I’m just saying if there is such discrepancy of articles in one area and an abundance in the other, it could be that the whole “how to tell” articles are a lot of baloney. Because everyone is different and we are all a little different in how we show someone they have meaning to us. As long as they show it to some degree…a smile or a nice text or a visit at work, then I’m saying, don’t worry about it.
Lanks and I have known each other for four months now. It’s a drop in the bucket compared to the long-term monogamy I’m used to. But it’s still something. We’ve traveled together, we’ve gone to sleep beside each other, woken up together, shared a drink, held hands while one of us was having a blood sugar episode (no names here), shared secrets, whispered literal sweet nothings, been offended over Doctor Who, mistakenly diagnosed each other for mental disorders, and not touched the Facebook relationship status update. I don’t feel we have done anything in the style of traditional daters, but I’ve had a lot of fun so far, and I’ve laughed aloud quite a bit too. And, so, though I doubt that Lanks will read this or perhaps anything I’ve written, I say, thanks for the memories, dear. You’ve pushed my pen for the past 120 days in a way that only a sappy high school relationship can, but never has for me, and so if for nothing other than that, I give you a shout out. Yo, boy, this one’s for you.
Here’s a vignette from a day when Lanks let me down.
LXIV Nostalgia: Dissatisfaction results from unmet expectations (9/19/13)
Every time you stand me up, another puzzle piece snaps into place into the picture of who I am. Each and all phone calls you choose to not make, every text you read and ignore allows me to realize the irony-mass in my gut and how it steels me against bullets, bombs and nuclear warfare. Of all the times i’ve allowed myself to hit the ground, to taste dirt when its offered among magic mushrooms, they exist to prepare me for that one who is going to stride in, dismantle me, and set my bones among the stars.
Biting my tongue this long, I’m shocked any blood is left therein to boil, let alone offer conduits for the synapses of this brain mass to fire, however intermittingly it happens. They lied about the cake. It was never really going to appear, no matter how many fire encrusted hoops you managed to lay waste to.
The dream was that, according to plan, she died and reginerated as a child of three instead of a child of two decades. this soft, sweet smelling thing shied from me at first, her tawny pigtails careening around her baby skull. But into my arms she came and when you arrived in the tow-truck cab, you offered the little one a toy double-decker bus and said, “This is only the first attack. It’s been coming for some time. The Doctor sends his regards.” And we all vanished into the dry curtain folds of time.
Why am I so emo today? Well, let’s take a section from the Joesph Campbell “The Powerof Myth” to flush it all out. Campbell says that the writer must tell the truth and this means speaking as much to the imperfections of the person we admire as much to what we love about them. And that the person we are meant to be with is not just a love affair, but rather a joining of our self with our other self we’ve been separated for. He compares it to the Chinese image of the Tao, with the dark and the light interacting, the relationship of yang and yin, male and female. I’ve always felt an affinity for this idea of a dark that belongs to the light and vice versa, of two halves of a person within themselves even. If I were to get a tattoo, it would be incorporating the idea of the yang and yin, duality and the Pisces fish that represent my horiscope as well as my internal self.
I’m not trying to connect this idea too readily to Lanks or myself, but I’m saying it’s a nice bit of imagery to strive for. Having a theme to attach to a paper you are writing can give it direction, thats all. At any rate, this book is an interesting read so far and I’ll probably reference it quite a bit before it’s all said and done. Bring on the gloom of the rainy day, and let’s hope for some better writing material for next time.
-Anna R. Kotopple