[astigmatic much?] pith.org content, daily-like
most recently
archive

Sunday February 17, 2002, 02:37

The city is loud tonight. I'm not sure why.

In the restaurant earlier, the one with the white tile floor that reminded me more of my high school cafeteria than an Italian restaurant and a mural that reminded me of my elementary school art class, a table of what must have been students was shrieking and wailing like I would have been embarrassed to and I caught myself engaging in a conversation in which the fact that "we were never like that, were we?" was discussed and the conclusion was made that, in fact, we never were.

By the window were three girls, teenagers it was assumed, who were having a much more subdued conversation while still maintaining some sort of air of fun about them, giggling and laughing as appropriate.

My cousin got married today. I found myself flitting about, talking to select groups of people and ignoring others, choosing solely based on appearance. Pretty and sassy, pretty and cool. Those were the people I would talk to. The people who tried too hard, the people whose hair was just right, whose outfits were specifically chosen and were just completely wrong, the people who fit certain stereotypes were simply ignored by me.

More precisely, I'm a snob. But the fact remains that at functions such as weddings, there are only so many people that are worth talking to. Lovely people they might all be, but I find that I do need to pace myself, especially given that I am, at the core, an introvert, and while I can schmooze a good schmooze, there are times when it is appropriate to escape to the porch, champagne glass in hand, to survey the scenery, to re-ground in some sort of reality.

To that end, there is currently a woman outside my apartment, screaming. Curious, I walk over to the window and look out below and only see a group of people walking down the street, arms linked peacefully, seemingly without screaming. I find myself concerned that something happened and that nobody who heard anything did anything. But there is nothing amis on the street below, and every once in a while the same girl will screech again, so I am not particularly concerned. But it is a strange night.

[...]

09:49 (six hours later)

The air is cool and crisp, as autumn air should be, which is unfortunate as we are well in the middle of feeling what winter air should. It is the kind of day that I love, a blue sky filled with white clouds drifting lazily past my window. And when I woke this morning to the radio I found that something was missing. All seemed to be in order. My clothes were strewn on top of the covers from the night before and I had just made my way from the sofa to the bed just a couple of hours before. And yet I woke and looked out of the window to this perfect day, and the only thing I felt was that I didn't belong.

A strange feeling for a city that I've claimed as my own. As my home. I stagger out of the bedroom and as I wipe the sleep from my eyes I realize that the problem has been that I have not spent a full weekend in this country in the past three. A week ago I had just returned from London. One week before that, I had just flown there. And one week before that I was, again, on a plane, crossing the Atlantic. To be home and to not be rushing myself out the door is at once calming and unsettling.

Of course the realization hits home. To be able to travel across the ocean in a matter of hours, to be able to hit a new continent and a new culture over the course of a nap and a double meal service? It's unheard of. And to know that I, at this point in my life, can consider jetting off for a weekend or a week without giving it a second thought is also quite insane. And I like it. I like having the option of living that lifestyle. I like being able to believe that I am the type of person who would just jet off for a weekend like that.

Which leads me, of course, to rash decisions. About a year ago I was moving to this city. I had found myself a sublet and I was spending my days in coffee shops writing and working in theatres. Two years ago I had just moved to join a startup at the height of the free money dotcom insanity. I had every intention, this time, of staying put. Of finding myself here, of loving this city as I have, of finding myself in a group of friends and of determining the path of my life. Here.

Life is, of course, subject to change, and now I find myself, a year later, planning to move again. A temporary move is what I have in mind, but life has all of a sudden presented me with a very simple option. Stay put, and be unhappy living with pain and a world of "what-ifs," or go out again into the world, be scared beyond belief, and once again try to grasp on to an amazing opportunity.

It is frightening though. This is a move to London, a city in a different country, on a different continent, and far, farther away than I've ever lived before. Five hours. Driving. That's about as far away as I've ever been. Which, I might add, is depressing. So I plan on leaving. Soon. And on top of all of this, I have decided to enact a career change as well, which is either perfect or quite the opposite. I have not decided as of yet how I feel about the situation. What I do know is that I am beginning, once again, to panic about my life, and, while exhilarating at times, can also be quite quite stressful. Of course I bring it upon myself.

What I do know is that this time, as was the case with the last time, will be entered into with much stress and confusion and I will emerge from it wiser and more excited about the world. What more could I ask for?

[ permanent link ]

[ email love | your love | consumer love ]

------------------

search the past

remember the past

1999
    aug 04 05 06 08 09 11 12 15 17 22 26 30
    sep 01 03 07 12 20 28
    oct 04 14 18 22
    nov 02 07 12 19 25 26 27
    dec 12 15 18 28 31

2000
    jan 02 06 11 12 18 29
    feb 03 10 14 17 21 23 28 29
    mar 05 06 20 22 25 26
    apr 02 05 06 08 09 10 12 13 17 20 21 24 25 28 29
    may 03 05 08 11 12 15 17 17b 18 18b 21 23 25 29 30 31
    jun 01 01b 03 06 07 08 10 13 14 16 18 21 23 25 30
    jul 03 06 09 10 13 16 26
    aug 02 03 04 08 10 17 21 25 29
    sep 06 07 12 13 18 24
    oct 06 11 12 19 30 31
    nov 08 11 22 26 30
    dec 01 10 14 21 30

2001
    jan 01 09 14 16 30
    feb 11 15 20 22
    mar 06 08 09 21 25 30
    apr 01 04 05 09 13 18 23 24 25 28
    may 04 09 11 14 16 17 21 25 31
    jun 02 08 20 21 28 29
    jul 07 13 17 28
    aug 14 24 26
    sep 09 12 23 24
    oct 10 26 28 31
    nov 11 17 18 28 30
    dec 02 08 15 18 26

2002
    jan 03 07 08 18 20 23
    feb 04 05 17 19 22
    mar 06 10 13 15 17
    apr 13 16 19 26
    may 03 13 16 21
    jun 08 15 21
    jul 03 05 10 18 24
    aug 03 18
    sep 11 20
    oct 03 05
    nov 10
    dec 30

2003
    jan 19
    feb 04 14 27
    mar 10 23 31
    apr 11 15
    may 26
    jun 16 29
    aug 17
    sep 15
    oct 08
    nov 30
    dec 11 24 28

2004
    jan 06 23 30
    feb 01 21
    mar 04 09
    apr 15
    may 02 10
    jul 03
    aug 02 16 30
    oct 04 17
    nov 28
    dec 28

2005
    jan 03 24
    mar 24
    may 28
    aug 01 10
    sep 03
    oct 12 28
    dec 25

2006
    jan 01 07 16
    feb 02 13 28
    mar 12 13
    apr 17

other things to look at

back home