Wow, just read that last entry that was written almost 9 months ago and I'm always impressed with what I've written after I've written it. While I'm writing it it always seems logorrheic. I've been writing in diaries for as long as I can remember. I threw about 30 years worth of them away in a massive de-clutter, but I have one I wrote when I was around 12, and it is so sad it is hard for me to read. Probably the most miserable time in my life. I don't know why I kept that one and not the insanely entertaining and shocking ones from my college days. I could probably just have typed those up and had a memoir (albeit a 10,000 page memoir). There were thousands of entries about some boy or man that I was over the top obsessed with...don't think I wrote much about all the crazy drinkin and druggin, nor did I itemize my daily activities like some people do. It was all about the angst within, which was basically a bottomless hunger for the twisted fulfillment of basic id needs and an addiction to excitement that the bar kept being raised on until it became reckless and dangerous.
This is not what I sat down to write about! I just got back from my fourth trip of the year...ughad why I think I could ever feel sorry for myself about anything is beyond me. All I ever wanted to do was travel and have adventures and now I get to do it. But I don't get to do it all the time WAAAAAAAH. And I can't go back to Antarctica because my dog is still alive WAAAAAAAH.
I just got back from my annual painting workshop in Toas. Jesus I cannot believe how awesome that was....In March I went to UAE and Oman and came back almost tripping with happiness. The I went to my annual ski week in Taos and that seemed even more awesome than it ever has been. And a few days ago I just got back from a 9 day workshop in Taos that I have been doing for 13 years. 13 years later I have had my heart blasted open like I have never done this painting before. I had a full on ripped up from the inside see-god-now experience and it just keeps happening every time I go there. I always go so crickly and hard-edged and angry and addled...and come back just soft as a grandma. Just drop all that shit in nine days of full on intimacy with myself. And I came back wanting to move to Taos. For the first time kind of seriously. If I can live in this former farm town now silicon valley of Oregon I guess I can live anywhere. I cannot imagine living anywhere and feeling more isolated that I am here. But when the plane from ABQ was flying over Mt. Hood and Mt. St. Helens and I saw all that lush green I sensed I would miss this place. I had such a great experience going to Mt. Hood Meadows this past winter, and if I worked at Toas it might not make the annual mecca there as special. So now I am looking at these affordable cabins near Mt. Hood so I can work there during ski season. I would live in the mountains, but not near any town...not near anytown near as cool as Taos. But I have to take the chance and do this one goal I've been thinking of for years so that I can get in a lot more ski days. I only did 31 last season, which is about 25 more than I usually do, but I want to ski all season. I want to get good. And having started so late, I have to do it 3 or 4 days a week to get good.
But it is only May. And I just got my new passport in the mail...wheeeee it is so beautiful and stiff! My last one got quite a workout and was floppy with wear. I'm itchin' to get those first stamps this year. I could move out of my apt. when my lease is up in June and go to India or Scotland or Africa. I'm going back to Taos in Sept. for the painting again so that will be a big deal. I feel like I should be doing something worthwhile, to help other people or something...I spend so much time absorbed with the planning and the details of my little dreams and plans. Delicious.
Tomorrow I'm driving out to look at the wee cabins again at Mt. Hood. The owners called me as they really want to unload them...The two ladies I talked to were so kind and gave me so much information about the mountain and what it is like to live there that I saw that living out there would be like living in a really tiny community..I felt like I had some friends after talking to them for about an hour each. I have seen this side of myself lately where I try and keep strangers in a conversation way too long as I need the human contact so badly...but the one lady I talked to told me that she was 85 & her son wanted her to move out of a house that had stairs so she is selling her cabin. Her name is Joy and we tried to talk several times but there were some phone & bluetooth issues, but when I finally got to really talk to her I felt a sharp pang that she was living alone and driving herself places at her age. She told me to come to her cabin after her dr. appt tomorrow morning and I found myself wanting to offer to drive her to it. She lives 90 miles away from me but what else do I have to do but knit and scheme. When we were getting off of the phone she said she'd love to visit with me even if I didn't buy the cabin...and I was very touched. I so appreciated her graciousness in wanting to spend time with me after a phone conversation, and I'm sure she sensed I could use a friend too...even if it's just for a few hours. The Herculean efforts I make for social contact since I've moved to Oregon are sometimes embarrassing in their desperation. But I'm not going to be hard on myself for this: I'll never beat myself up for making efforts and showing up even if the event turns out to be a bust (and oh so often it is here)...because damnit, I'm making an effort and not just sitting at home. Not one thing has come my way here...I've had to chase it all down. Life is so different now. I think the only way I could get a date with a man is to pay them. My life was so different before the Ice. Then there was the Ice. And now I'm not sure what the fuck is going on except that it's a mixed back of euphoric travel experiences mixed with a whole lot of downtime and knitting...and waiting...waiting...waiting...
And the one thing I've never had to live without, luscious and lots of attention from men, is totally absent. And that is one of the worst things about this suburban vacuum: my spinster status and the continual and draining attitude adjustment I've had to make to try and accept this really dry and awful season...nothing could be more against my nature than being asexual, or celibate, and I really really hate it. And for the first time, I have no options in that area. At least no options that wouldn't leave me feeling crappy about myself.
And I never thought I'd say this kind of thing but I'm looking forward to meeting this sweet old lady tomorrow. I just went and bought her a piece of pie for our meeting. I will take some pie for Joy. And we will have a nice visit.
This is not what I sat down to write about! I just got back from my fourth trip of the year...ughad why I think I could ever feel sorry for myself about anything is beyond me. All I ever wanted to do was travel and have adventures and now I get to do it. But I don't get to do it all the time WAAAAAAAH. And I can't go back to Antarctica because my dog is still alive WAAAAAAAH.
I just got back from my annual painting workshop in Toas. Jesus I cannot believe how awesome that was....In March I went to UAE and Oman and came back almost tripping with happiness. The I went to my annual ski week in Taos and that seemed even more awesome than it ever has been. And a few days ago I just got back from a 9 day workshop in Taos that I have been doing for 13 years. 13 years later I have had my heart blasted open like I have never done this painting before. I had a full on ripped up from the inside see-god-now experience and it just keeps happening every time I go there. I always go so crickly and hard-edged and angry and addled...and come back just soft as a grandma. Just drop all that shit in nine days of full on intimacy with myself. And I came back wanting to move to Taos. For the first time kind of seriously. If I can live in this former farm town now silicon valley of Oregon I guess I can live anywhere. I cannot imagine living anywhere and feeling more isolated that I am here. But when the plane from ABQ was flying over Mt. Hood and Mt. St. Helens and I saw all that lush green I sensed I would miss this place. I had such a great experience going to Mt. Hood Meadows this past winter, and if I worked at Toas it might not make the annual mecca there as special. So now I am looking at these affordable cabins near Mt. Hood so I can work there during ski season. I would live in the mountains, but not near any town...not near anytown near as cool as Taos. But I have to take the chance and do this one goal I've been thinking of for years so that I can get in a lot more ski days. I only did 31 last season, which is about 25 more than I usually do, but I want to ski all season. I want to get good. And having started so late, I have to do it 3 or 4 days a week to get good.
But it is only May. And I just got my new passport in the mail...wheeeee it is so beautiful and stiff! My last one got quite a workout and was floppy with wear. I'm itchin' to get those first stamps this year. I could move out of my apt. when my lease is up in June and go to India or Scotland or Africa. I'm going back to Taos in Sept. for the painting again so that will be a big deal. I feel like I should be doing something worthwhile, to help other people or something...I spend so much time absorbed with the planning and the details of my little dreams and plans. Delicious.
Tomorrow I'm driving out to look at the wee cabins again at Mt. Hood. The owners called me as they really want to unload them...The two ladies I talked to were so kind and gave me so much information about the mountain and what it is like to live there that I saw that living out there would be like living in a really tiny community..I felt like I had some friends after talking to them for about an hour each. I have seen this side of myself lately where I try and keep strangers in a conversation way too long as I need the human contact so badly...but the one lady I talked to told me that she was 85 & her son wanted her to move out of a house that had stairs so she is selling her cabin. Her name is Joy and we tried to talk several times but there were some phone & bluetooth issues, but when I finally got to really talk to her I felt a sharp pang that she was living alone and driving herself places at her age. She told me to come to her cabin after her dr. appt tomorrow morning and I found myself wanting to offer to drive her to it. She lives 90 miles away from me but what else do I have to do but knit and scheme. When we were getting off of the phone she said she'd love to visit with me even if I didn't buy the cabin...and I was very touched. I so appreciated her graciousness in wanting to spend time with me after a phone conversation, and I'm sure she sensed I could use a friend too...even if it's just for a few hours. The Herculean efforts I make for social contact since I've moved to Oregon are sometimes embarrassing in their desperation. But I'm not going to be hard on myself for this: I'll never beat myself up for making efforts and showing up even if the event turns out to be a bust (and oh so often it is here)...because damnit, I'm making an effort and not just sitting at home. Not one thing has come my way here...I've had to chase it all down. Life is so different now. I think the only way I could get a date with a man is to pay them. My life was so different before the Ice. Then there was the Ice. And now I'm not sure what the fuck is going on except that it's a mixed back of euphoric travel experiences mixed with a whole lot of downtime and knitting...and waiting...waiting...waiting...
And the one thing I've never had to live without, luscious and lots of attention from men, is totally absent. And that is one of the worst things about this suburban vacuum: my spinster status and the continual and draining attitude adjustment I've had to make to try and accept this really dry and awful season...nothing could be more against my nature than being asexual, or celibate, and I really really hate it. And for the first time, I have no options in that area. At least no options that wouldn't leave me feeling crappy about myself.
And I never thought I'd say this kind of thing but I'm looking forward to meeting this sweet old lady tomorrow. I just went and bought her a piece of pie for our meeting. I will take some pie for Joy. And we will have a nice visit.
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