Monday, January 23, 2012
Love & Marriage....
So, yeah. Marriages end, or break down - Seal & Heidi, Russell & Katy, Blurb & Dooce, Demi & Ashton, Kim & Thurston...and what always sort of sticks with me is how it apparently can happen to anyone, no matter how "healthy" or "happy" they seem (or how rich & successful). I am, in a very, very unexpected place right now - a place most people tell you is a fairy tale, and impossibility. A place that some people do visit in their relationships - my parents even, though it was a far less protracted split/separation that happened after he had an affair, she kicked him out, he slept on the boat for a couple of weeks, had a bit of a think about things and came back. She loved him and forgave him, and trusted him when he said he wasn't going to make the mistake again, that he realized what was important and what he truly wanted. The good news is that they were infinitely more happy together after that, sharing their lives and interests in ways I had never seen them do as a kid. The bad news is that his history of ignoring his health bit them in the ass, and he was gone at 58. However - at least they had that time to be together, happy, and loving; and not angry and hostile fighting it out or lonely and bitter apart. There's something to be said for living in the present, enjoying the time you do have together, if you are able to.
I would be remiss if I didn't note the stark parallels in my own personal narrative right now. My willingness to bring my ex-husband back into my life is based in the simple fact that I loved him dearly when I met him, though I wasn't completely able to functionally do it, because, simply put, I wasn't too crazy about myself. Sure, in the abstract, I'm suitably enamored of my personae, my ability to take on challenges and survive. Blah, blah, blah. But, that sort of ends up making you a bit of a lab rat, waiting for the next mystery dose to see what the effects are. Doses administered by others.
It would be lovely if we all came to relationships all shiny and new. But we don't. When we are young, we are products of our parent's relationships, media input, of hideous playground hijinks and highschool pressure. As we connect with people and disconnect, we learn a little bit more, but we also put on a little bit of armor each time, to protect us from being hurt in the same way again. That's where it gets tricky for me. The armor. Mine was papier mache - his, lead. Mine looked plenty strong, but in reality was useless. His was heavy and poisonous. No matter how hard we tried to let the connection grow, it seemed our separate poorly constructed armor made it impossible.
In the end, people seem to split up when they just don't know what to do anymore. At the very least distance can give a chance to rebuild, to rethink. Most people, it seems just move on, find a new person to be with, and that works - I know a lot of successful second marriages.What I'd like to know, though, is how many people reconcile. Reconciliation is a risky choice for a lot of people - it requires admitting bad choices, understanding the pain of what you've done, but also, it can be such a strong foundation.
As I said in a text to SMRGEv2.0 yesterday it is "epic" - and he responded that we "are lucky for what a lot of people lack" - because - we've both been through some crazy bad shit and can share that experience. Having apologized and expressed his desire for me to know that he was wrong and that we did have something special, that's a crucial choice, a decision that opens up a whole new road for us to travel.
We can rebuild the relationship and learn from our past, how exciting is that? Pretty fucking exciting.That, folks, is evolving. It's learning and living and not staying in a morose spin of depression and frustration. This is about living.
The issues he deals with are his own, and I know now that all I can do to really, truly help is to live as well as I know how, and to share that with him. It's strange to be in this place now - I've said before, I had never, ever expected him to return, convincing myself that I had been misguided in my choice; that my ability to understand what was important was faulty.What is unfolding now is another journey, made difficult by distance, but also, because it does require more effort, perhaps a good thing. To fall into each other's arms again immediately, and not explore the ouchy parts of our shared history (and the ouchy parts of the history in between) is to possibly ignore what might have made it crumble before. Certainly, it wasn't my idea to split - but the situation was so tense, so angry, so fraught with miscommunication and almost a panic, that I couldn't do anything other than go along with it.
So I did. The thing is, and it is so scary and painful to believe, but it seems, now, to have been the best thing - for me, anyway. I awoke from a stasis I had been in for quite a while, trapped in this dilemma of what I was going to be without someone to define it for me, a dilemma I had been dancing around before I met him; starting certainly when I left Eugene and returned to Seattle in '94. I had let circumstance rule the day for so long - and now, now I want to continue to make decisions that offer me chances, offer ideas, experiences, I want to share my joys and my pains again with someone I, at my core, have always loved. The fact that that person is also the person who caused me to go through a lot of anguish and rebuilding, is actually quite encouraging. That there is a deep investment between us, it survived and is looking to flourish. It occurs to me as well that I very well may now be much more of the person he fell in love with initially. That becoming comfortable with who I am, with what I enjoy and care about - which are all born of the core experiences I'd had up until meeting him has got to enhance this new chapter. It's difficult to get it all down - but I'll keep trying, as it goes. As the dust settles a little and things fall into line - as I try and move forward my plans to get back to the place I love...
A few years ago, when I found out that Kev & Al had separated, I remember this crushing feeling of "wow, if what they had wasn't LOVE, then what the fuck is?" and interestingly, in another universal parallel, they are back together, performing, making art, having pets, and so on...all the things they do best. They seem to have that balance; the balance that is, obviously, so hard to achieve for most. They had to take some time away perhaps, to get the perspective. To understand what is important to them, to know how they want to live their lives together. To know that in the end though, they came back to each other for whatever their reasons are, is encouraging.
I am excited to be able to contribute to a new and hopefully better chapter. To have a chance to be part of the partnership that I believed so much in 10 years ago (ten....years....) that was mired in so much...muck. This has been an amazing couple of weeks, and with some luck I'll be able to document it a little better each time.
30 days, and counting.
Back to more Whovian-Minchin-Arsenal gushing, I promise!
I would be remiss if I didn't note the stark parallels in my own personal narrative right now. My willingness to bring my ex-husband back into my life is based in the simple fact that I loved him dearly when I met him, though I wasn't completely able to functionally do it, because, simply put, I wasn't too crazy about myself. Sure, in the abstract, I'm suitably enamored of my personae, my ability to take on challenges and survive. Blah, blah, blah. But, that sort of ends up making you a bit of a lab rat, waiting for the next mystery dose to see what the effects are. Doses administered by others.
It would be lovely if we all came to relationships all shiny and new. But we don't. When we are young, we are products of our parent's relationships, media input, of hideous playground hijinks and highschool pressure. As we connect with people and disconnect, we learn a little bit more, but we also put on a little bit of armor each time, to protect us from being hurt in the same way again. That's where it gets tricky for me. The armor. Mine was papier mache - his, lead. Mine looked plenty strong, but in reality was useless. His was heavy and poisonous. No matter how hard we tried to let the connection grow, it seemed our separate poorly constructed armor made it impossible.
In the end, people seem to split up when they just don't know what to do anymore. At the very least distance can give a chance to rebuild, to rethink. Most people, it seems just move on, find a new person to be with, and that works - I know a lot of successful second marriages.What I'd like to know, though, is how many people reconcile. Reconciliation is a risky choice for a lot of people - it requires admitting bad choices, understanding the pain of what you've done, but also, it can be such a strong foundation.
As I said in a text to SMRGEv2.0 yesterday it is "epic" - and he responded that we "are lucky for what a lot of people lack" - because - we've both been through some crazy bad shit and can share that experience. Having apologized and expressed his desire for me to know that he was wrong and that we did have something special, that's a crucial choice, a decision that opens up a whole new road for us to travel.
We can rebuild the relationship and learn from our past, how exciting is that? Pretty fucking exciting.That, folks, is evolving. It's learning and living and not staying in a morose spin of depression and frustration. This is about living.
The issues he deals with are his own, and I know now that all I can do to really, truly help is to live as well as I know how, and to share that with him. It's strange to be in this place now - I've said before, I had never, ever expected him to return, convincing myself that I had been misguided in my choice; that my ability to understand what was important was faulty.What is unfolding now is another journey, made difficult by distance, but also, because it does require more effort, perhaps a good thing. To fall into each other's arms again immediately, and not explore the ouchy parts of our shared history (and the ouchy parts of the history in between) is to possibly ignore what might have made it crumble before. Certainly, it wasn't my idea to split - but the situation was so tense, so angry, so fraught with miscommunication and almost a panic, that I couldn't do anything other than go along with it.
So I did. The thing is, and it is so scary and painful to believe, but it seems, now, to have been the best thing - for me, anyway. I awoke from a stasis I had been in for quite a while, trapped in this dilemma of what I was going to be without someone to define it for me, a dilemma I had been dancing around before I met him; starting certainly when I left Eugene and returned to Seattle in '94. I had let circumstance rule the day for so long - and now, now I want to continue to make decisions that offer me chances, offer ideas, experiences, I want to share my joys and my pains again with someone I, at my core, have always loved. The fact that that person is also the person who caused me to go through a lot of anguish and rebuilding, is actually quite encouraging. That there is a deep investment between us, it survived and is looking to flourish. It occurs to me as well that I very well may now be much more of the person he fell in love with initially. That becoming comfortable with who I am, with what I enjoy and care about - which are all born of the core experiences I'd had up until meeting him has got to enhance this new chapter. It's difficult to get it all down - but I'll keep trying, as it goes. As the dust settles a little and things fall into line - as I try and move forward my plans to get back to the place I love...
A few years ago, when I found out that Kev & Al had separated, I remember this crushing feeling of "wow, if what they had wasn't LOVE, then what the fuck is?" and interestingly, in another universal parallel, they are back together, performing, making art, having pets, and so on...all the things they do best. They seem to have that balance; the balance that is, obviously, so hard to achieve for most. They had to take some time away perhaps, to get the perspective. To understand what is important to them, to know how they want to live their lives together. To know that in the end though, they came back to each other for whatever their reasons are, is encouraging.
I am excited to be able to contribute to a new and hopefully better chapter. To have a chance to be part of the partnership that I believed so much in 10 years ago (ten....years....) that was mired in so much...muck. This has been an amazing couple of weeks, and with some luck I'll be able to document it a little better each time.
30 days, and counting.
Back to more Whovian-Minchin-Arsenal gushing, I promise!
fan-tastic.
Being a fan. Fan is short for fanatic, right? I mean that's where the term not the word comes from. I have been what I consider a fan of things before: bands, movies, authors...and lately, a simple scroll through the pages (especially recently) of this blog will tell you that I've even become a very specific or passionate fan of things like Arsenal, (as poor SMRGE experienced this evening after asking how our team did today, and I responded at such a pitch that I literally had a little head rush when I paused for a breath) and it's been a bit of a lesson in the depths of fandom, of nerdom, of just general hobbyist thinking. A bit of a switch for a girl who was pretty sure being part of any massive group-think (yup, that's how I spun it in my little head) was bad.
Here's the thing: I find TV show fandom really amazing. Right now, on my Tumbler, fans of the Moffet/Gatiss version of Sherlock are blowing shit sky high about the last of just 6 episodes. I mean rabid, constant posting about every minute detail (charts and graphs of fall speeds and velocity from buildings, hair styles and longing glances, teacups and bathrobes) of all the episodes, and enough screen caps and .gifs to literally make my eyes tired and head hurt from squinting at the tiny captions. Though, yes, I did watch all the episodes and will probably do so again, as the writing is pretty amazing, and visually still innovative enough to not be boring - though eventually, the texts on screen, and Sherlock doing his air-touchscreen thing as he thinks through solutions may get tedious. Until then, though...I'll keep watching, and be a fan, from a safe distance.
"Safe distance".
I suppose I use that phrase because sometimes the intensity of fans, especially here on the world wide internets mkes me feel oddly uncommitted. Sure, I've spent more time than is prudent on YouTube watching clips and videos of shows and performers I enjoy, and I read and listen to a healthy amount of Arsenal blogs and podcasts, and yes, I check for Alan Davies tags on Tumbler, and just recently acquired a Dalek "To Victory" poster, though it occurs to me that it might be time for my living space to not revert back to the "university chic" look that I cultivated for so long....
Anyway, being a fan of something has always been interesting to me, and for the longest time, save for a couple of punk rock mainstays (Kevin Seconds and Aaron Cometbus) I'd pretty much stayed fairly middle of the road when it came to fandom. Only as I gain more mileage, do I seem to hone in on subjects with more verve and commitment.
I've never been to a convention, of any kind. Though, I've dabbled in comics, with a firm love of all things Jaime Hernandez, and my understanding and affection for Tolkien's classics is also well-set. To go that extra step though, to plan vacations, to spend money on cosplay and the time to create .gif sets, and all the posting and conversations, plus just the actual time it takes to watch shows...how DO they do it? Being a fan of people who inspire me is easy enough, but to commit to the sort of real-life actions some fans take is pretty amazing.
Case in point - my coworker, who is what is apparently known as a "Gleek", a huge (she describes herself as "pretty obsessed") fan of one of the cast members in particular recently took a weekend trip to New York to see a Broadway performance of one of the castmembers (not even her favorite! her like, second favorite! OMG!) and then flew back in time to be at work last night (our "Monday").
I'm impressed on several levels. The first is just overall inspiration - she had saved and was planning a trip to Mexico in March with some friends, but it fell through and she found out about that on Thursday (our "Friday" if you will) so she began to think about what else she'd like to do, and decided she'd like to see this cast member in this show on Broadway (she is also a huge fan of musicals, so the pieces do fit together), but didn't have actual tickets to the show in question. However, savvy enough to know about the possibility of cancelled tickets on show day, she booked a flight, a room, and headed to NYC alone, just a carry-on and her intense desire to see this happen.
And it totally did - she got the ticket (apparently even a pretty good seat in the orchestra), saw the matinee performance, and then took in a second show that evening that had been recommended by another member of the Glee cast. She battled the bitter NYC cold, but got some food, saw some shows, and flew back -all spur-of-the-moment and totally had a great time.
I really think that's kind of fantastic. Sure, there are hours spent online on message boards, cruising blogs and Tumblr and Twitter, but when being a fan of something actually inspires you to get out and experience the thing that you enjoy the most about your "thing" (for her, it's musical performances) I think that's the best-case scenario. It's why I want to go to the Emirates - as I was sharing with SMRGE last night while he was perusing the Arsenal site - I gushed so incessantly I actually gave myself a second headrush talking about visiting "my" team and what it would mean to me. To be able to attend, to be a part of that human experience...I imagine it will be like going to a show by a band that I adore. I don't care if we win the game I go to - I just want to be among the fans, among people who love the team (so I guess, given the state of Arsenal fandom right now, it's a good thing I'll have to wait until next year to do it) watching them play live, being caught up in it.Having that experience. I understand that desire, that affection for something now in ways I never have before.
There are lots of ways to be a fan I suppose, and lots of things to be a fan of...people and ideas that capture your imagination, who inspire you to think about things to explore things and ideas. That seems like the best part of being a fan of anything.
Here's the thing: I find TV show fandom really amazing. Right now, on my Tumbler, fans of the Moffet/Gatiss version of Sherlock are blowing shit sky high about the last of just 6 episodes. I mean rabid, constant posting about every minute detail (charts and graphs of fall speeds and velocity from buildings, hair styles and longing glances, teacups and bathrobes) of all the episodes, and enough screen caps and .gifs to literally make my eyes tired and head hurt from squinting at the tiny captions. Though, yes, I did watch all the episodes and will probably do so again, as the writing is pretty amazing, and visually still innovative enough to not be boring - though eventually, the texts on screen, and Sherlock doing his air-touchscreen thing as he thinks through solutions may get tedious. Until then, though...I'll keep watching, and be a fan, from a safe distance.
"Safe distance".
I suppose I use that phrase because sometimes the intensity of fans, especially here on the world wide internets mkes me feel oddly uncommitted. Sure, I've spent more time than is prudent on YouTube watching clips and videos of shows and performers I enjoy, and I read and listen to a healthy amount of Arsenal blogs and podcasts, and yes, I check for Alan Davies tags on Tumbler, and just recently acquired a Dalek "To Victory" poster, though it occurs to me that it might be time for my living space to not revert back to the "university chic" look that I cultivated for so long....
Anyway, being a fan of something has always been interesting to me, and for the longest time, save for a couple of punk rock mainstays (Kevin Seconds and Aaron Cometbus) I'd pretty much stayed fairly middle of the road when it came to fandom. Only as I gain more mileage, do I seem to hone in on subjects with more verve and commitment.
I've never been to a convention, of any kind. Though, I've dabbled in comics, with a firm love of all things Jaime Hernandez, and my understanding and affection for Tolkien's classics is also well-set. To go that extra step though, to plan vacations, to spend money on cosplay and the time to create .gif sets, and all the posting and conversations, plus just the actual time it takes to watch shows...how DO they do it? Being a fan of people who inspire me is easy enough, but to commit to the sort of real-life actions some fans take is pretty amazing.
Case in point - my coworker, who is what is apparently known as a "Gleek", a huge (she describes herself as "pretty obsessed") fan of one of the cast members in particular recently took a weekend trip to New York to see a Broadway performance of one of the castmembers (not even her favorite! her like, second favorite! OMG!) and then flew back in time to be at work last night (our "Monday").
I'm impressed on several levels. The first is just overall inspiration - she had saved and was planning a trip to Mexico in March with some friends, but it fell through and she found out about that on Thursday (our "Friday" if you will) so she began to think about what else she'd like to do, and decided she'd like to see this cast member in this show on Broadway (she is also a huge fan of musicals, so the pieces do fit together), but didn't have actual tickets to the show in question. However, savvy enough to know about the possibility of cancelled tickets on show day, she booked a flight, a room, and headed to NYC alone, just a carry-on and her intense desire to see this happen.
And it totally did - she got the ticket (apparently even a pretty good seat in the orchestra), saw the matinee performance, and then took in a second show that evening that had been recommended by another member of the Glee cast. She battled the bitter NYC cold, but got some food, saw some shows, and flew back -all spur-of-the-moment and totally had a great time.
I really think that's kind of fantastic. Sure, there are hours spent online on message boards, cruising blogs and Tumblr and Twitter, but when being a fan of something actually inspires you to get out and experience the thing that you enjoy the most about your "thing" (for her, it's musical performances) I think that's the best-case scenario. It's why I want to go to the Emirates - as I was sharing with SMRGE last night while he was perusing the Arsenal site - I gushed so incessantly I actually gave myself a second headrush talking about visiting "my" team and what it would mean to me. To be able to attend, to be a part of that human experience...I imagine it will be like going to a show by a band that I adore. I don't care if we win the game I go to - I just want to be among the fans, among people who love the team (so I guess, given the state of Arsenal fandom right now, it's a good thing I'll have to wait until next year to do it) watching them play live, being caught up in it.Having that experience. I understand that desire, that affection for something now in ways I never have before.
There are lots of ways to be a fan I suppose, and lots of things to be a fan of...people and ideas that capture your imagination, who inspire you to think about things to explore things and ideas. That seems like the best part of being a fan of anything.
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