Hello, friends!
I'm moving over to Wordpress -- the times, they are a-changin' -- mostly because I think it looks cleaner, nicer, and offers more opportunity to make it look even more clean and more nice. Things are still looking pretty bland there right now; I hope to have some fun with CSS soon to make it look a bit more like I want it to. I'm also thinking I might begin to blog about more than my innermost thoughts and feelings. . .though I do love telling the Internets about those things, indeed.
At any rate, please update your bookmarks/feed readers/mental notes to megsandbacon.wordpress.com. (The usual usernames/domains were taken, so we're trying something new!!)
There's a post about my recent 24-hour whirlwind tour of Pittsburgh and a recipe for one of my favorite things to eat waiting for you! Fun!!!
Friday, August 07, 2009
Monday, July 27, 2009
Timelines
Some of my favorite Mountain Goats lyrics are from the song "Tallahassee," on the album of the same name. The part I like best in the song goes like this:
"There is no deadline; there is no schedule.
There is no plan we can fall back on.
The road this far can't be retraced.
There is no punch line anybody can tack on."
When I graduated from college and moved to San Francisco, one of the hardest transitions for me was learning how to function in a lifestyle that didn't have any set end-dates, no specific schedules or timeframes. In college, and even in high school and middle school and elementary school before that, your time is divided up into neat little chunks. You go to different classes each day of the week; the semester ends after a certain number of weeks, and you switch to new classes; the year ends on a particular date and you move out of your current apartment into a new one, and you get ready for the next year. Everything has a deadline; if it sucks, you know you only have to do it for so long; if it's awesome, you know you better enjoy it, because it won't last.
When you enter the real world, you get a job. You go to that job, usually to an office (the same office) every day, Monday through Friday, from something like 9am to 5pm, give or take. Unless you're on contract, there's no end-date to that job; you're just. . .there, for as long as you want to be there or until you get fired. You find an apartment, and you live in it; you might sign a lease for a year, but if you want to stay there indefinitely, it's probably a possibility. For some people, this lack of confines is great; they feel free to pursue their interests and make their lives awesome, and they grow up, and they thrive.
For me, it was incredibly difficult. I didn't know what to do with my time, how to think about the present or the future. Unintuitive as it is, I felt trapped by the lack of structure, paralyzed by all the options of what I could do, so much that I found myself not wanting to do anything. It was a big adjustment. It took me a lot of time to get used to this "new life," and the process entailed a lot of moping.
These lyrics ran through my head a lot during my first few years in San Francisco, as I lamented the lack of deadline, schedule, and plan, the inability to retrace the steps that got me to where I was, the reality of there being no punch line to wait for.
So, after almost three-and-a-half years of working the daily grind (okay, so my job was pretty cushy, but still, you know), of bouncing around to different apartments when the time felt right, I finally adjusted to the timeframe of real life. But in the last few months, lots of things in lots of aspects of my life have taken turns very much back toward the kind of regimented schedule I tried so hard to let go of.
Right now, there very much is a deadline: A lot of people I'm close to will be relocating in the coming weeks, and the pressure to spend time with them, do the things we've talked about doing but never got around to, and make the most of the time we have left is palpable. And there very much is a schedule and a plan: I've committed to a two-year masters program at Berkeley, which means that for the first time since I moved here, I'm actually committed to staying here for a defined period of time. I'll be going back to that academic structure of weeks and semesters and years that I used to thrive in. Beyond those two years, I won't have to stay here, but it'll probably be in my best interest, since the connections I'll make through the program that will definitely be Bay Area-centric. What's the point of making connections if you're just going to abandon them? I'm realizing that my decisions at this juncture have larger implications than the obvious ones.
I should be careful what I wish for. I'm not finding these deadlines, schedules, and plans to be as comforting now as I remember them being before.
-----
"There are loose ends by the score. What did I come down here for? You; you." -The Mountain Goats
"There is no deadline; there is no schedule.
There is no plan we can fall back on.
The road this far can't be retraced.
There is no punch line anybody can tack on."
When I graduated from college and moved to San Francisco, one of the hardest transitions for me was learning how to function in a lifestyle that didn't have any set end-dates, no specific schedules or timeframes. In college, and even in high school and middle school and elementary school before that, your time is divided up into neat little chunks. You go to different classes each day of the week; the semester ends after a certain number of weeks, and you switch to new classes; the year ends on a particular date and you move out of your current apartment into a new one, and you get ready for the next year. Everything has a deadline; if it sucks, you know you only have to do it for so long; if it's awesome, you know you better enjoy it, because it won't last.
When you enter the real world, you get a job. You go to that job, usually to an office (the same office) every day, Monday through Friday, from something like 9am to 5pm, give or take. Unless you're on contract, there's no end-date to that job; you're just. . .there, for as long as you want to be there or until you get fired. You find an apartment, and you live in it; you might sign a lease for a year, but if you want to stay there indefinitely, it's probably a possibility. For some people, this lack of confines is great; they feel free to pursue their interests and make their lives awesome, and they grow up, and they thrive.
For me, it was incredibly difficult. I didn't know what to do with my time, how to think about the present or the future. Unintuitive as it is, I felt trapped by the lack of structure, paralyzed by all the options of what I could do, so much that I found myself not wanting to do anything. It was a big adjustment. It took me a lot of time to get used to this "new life," and the process entailed a lot of moping.
These lyrics ran through my head a lot during my first few years in San Francisco, as I lamented the lack of deadline, schedule, and plan, the inability to retrace the steps that got me to where I was, the reality of there being no punch line to wait for.
So, after almost three-and-a-half years of working the daily grind (okay, so my job was pretty cushy, but still, you know), of bouncing around to different apartments when the time felt right, I finally adjusted to the timeframe of real life. But in the last few months, lots of things in lots of aspects of my life have taken turns very much back toward the kind of regimented schedule I tried so hard to let go of.
Right now, there very much is a deadline: A lot of people I'm close to will be relocating in the coming weeks, and the pressure to spend time with them, do the things we've talked about doing but never got around to, and make the most of the time we have left is palpable. And there very much is a schedule and a plan: I've committed to a two-year masters program at Berkeley, which means that for the first time since I moved here, I'm actually committed to staying here for a defined period of time. I'll be going back to that academic structure of weeks and semesters and years that I used to thrive in. Beyond those two years, I won't have to stay here, but it'll probably be in my best interest, since the connections I'll make through the program that will definitely be Bay Area-centric. What's the point of making connections if you're just going to abandon them? I'm realizing that my decisions at this juncture have larger implications than the obvious ones.
I should be careful what I wish for. I'm not finding these deadlines, schedules, and plans to be as comforting now as I remember them being before.
-----
"There are loose ends by the score. What did I come down here for? You; you." -The Mountain Goats
Tuesday, June 09, 2009
Independence
Here's what is getting me through this breakup: (1) doing things that I really enjoy doing but that I have not done very much during the time that I have been in a relationship and (2) doing things with friends that I previously thought I could only enjoy doing with a boyfriend.
Let me clarify:
(1) I am not in any way resentful of the time I have spent in relationships. I do not feel in any way that I have been pushed or tricked into "giving up" things I enjoyed doing for the sake of the relationship(s). But it is just a fact that when you (okay, maybe this needs clarification, too, so for now I will say I instead of you) -- when I am in a relationship, there are always certain things that I would somewhat like to do, but if the other person doesn't like to do them, it isn't a dealbreaker for me. I'm flexible, and at the end of the day, what's most important to me is companionship, no matter the form.
But still, when I am alone and making decisions for myself and myself only, there are things I like to do. Recently, as I have been remembering what it is to be single and independent, I have found a lot of enjoyment in those things. Biking instead of taking the bus or train. Biking around just for fun. Really, just biking. Heading out to a show at 10pm instead of going home and going to bed. Doing random things with friends, even if it's a gamble as to whether or not the activity is going to be hugely fun. Not caring what time it is or what the plan is or what else I need to do and just going with the flow. Um, hello, blogging.
Again, I'm not saying that relationships have forced me to not do things I like to do. However, I know that I have often made the choice to fret over how another person is feeling and allow that to influence my own decisions. When I am committed to someone, I put him first -- even when he doesn't ask me to and maybe would even prefer that I didn't.
(2) There are many things that, in my head, I see myself ideally doing with a significant other. "Date" things: brunches, walks, neighborhood wanderings, other outings. But really, the majority of the things I have, in the past, enjoyed doing with a significant other, I can also enjoy doing with friends. A revelation that many people have already realized, I know, but it really hit me this weekend. I don't have to mope around and feel sorry for myself that I don't get to do X and Y things because I don't have a boyfriend to do them with. Of course, there are certain exceptions here. . .but on the whole, this is true.
Tonight, I ate sausages and drank delicious Czech beer and had three hours of great conversation with a friend I don't see often enough. We talked about how to find the balance between allowing yourself to be influenced and molded and changed by a relationship, while also retaining your independence and your identity. Both have value, and I think both are essential, but this is something I have yet to do successfully. I'm getting better -- I have done this increasingly well in each of the relationships I've been in. But I'm not there yet.
I think part of the difficulty for me is that I am committed and loyal and serious. But I'm also very trusting of my intuition. In all honesty, I won't spend more than an hour with you, one-on-one, if you aren't someone I see myself having a real, meaningful friendship and connection with. And even moreso for relationships -- as much as I want to dismiss the whole "you know when you know" thing, I do know. I haven't gone on more than one date with anyone I couldn't see myself with long term. It's crazy, arguably -- but I feel like if I'm not invested as much as I can be invested in something or someone, it isn't worth being a part of in the first place. I don't know how to not be committed, how to not give of myself fully. I was spoiled by a long relationship where I was loved that way in return, but in the past year and a half, I have (painfully) learned that this is not how everyone operates.
But really, I don't think this is something I should change. I don't advocate anyone living a guarded life. The fact that this is how I operate, emotionally, means that I may get hurt more often and more deeply than the average person; I have learned this. But I'd take that any day over half-assing any relationship or friendship.
So, I'm not sure where that leaves me. I keep trying, I guess, to find the healthy balance. I remember whose house I live in. And until then, I lean on my friends, and I trust myself to learn more about who I am and what I need.
-----
"Every day is a struggle, from the trough to the crest. Waves keep crashing forever, and only death brings us rest. Sometimes we drift on a current; sometimes we wrestle the rip. If I'm not waving but drowning, promise to not lose your grip. And we will fight against the tide, going under side by side. And if our lungs give out, we will breathe without, and heaven's gates will open wide. . ." - Or, the Whale
Let me clarify:
(1) I am not in any way resentful of the time I have spent in relationships. I do not feel in any way that I have been pushed or tricked into "giving up" things I enjoyed doing for the sake of the relationship(s). But it is just a fact that when you (okay, maybe this needs clarification, too, so for now I will say I instead of you) -- when I am in a relationship, there are always certain things that I would somewhat like to do, but if the other person doesn't like to do them, it isn't a dealbreaker for me. I'm flexible, and at the end of the day, what's most important to me is companionship, no matter the form.
But still, when I am alone and making decisions for myself and myself only, there are things I like to do. Recently, as I have been remembering what it is to be single and independent, I have found a lot of enjoyment in those things. Biking instead of taking the bus or train. Biking around just for fun. Really, just biking. Heading out to a show at 10pm instead of going home and going to bed. Doing random things with friends, even if it's a gamble as to whether or not the activity is going to be hugely fun. Not caring what time it is or what the plan is or what else I need to do and just going with the flow. Um, hello, blogging.
Again, I'm not saying that relationships have forced me to not do things I like to do. However, I know that I have often made the choice to fret over how another person is feeling and allow that to influence my own decisions. When I am committed to someone, I put him first -- even when he doesn't ask me to and maybe would even prefer that I didn't.
(2) There are many things that, in my head, I see myself ideally doing with a significant other. "Date" things: brunches, walks, neighborhood wanderings, other outings. But really, the majority of the things I have, in the past, enjoyed doing with a significant other, I can also enjoy doing with friends. A revelation that many people have already realized, I know, but it really hit me this weekend. I don't have to mope around and feel sorry for myself that I don't get to do X and Y things because I don't have a boyfriend to do them with. Of course, there are certain exceptions here. . .but on the whole, this is true.
Tonight, I ate sausages and drank delicious Czech beer and had three hours of great conversation with a friend I don't see often enough. We talked about how to find the balance between allowing yourself to be influenced and molded and changed by a relationship, while also retaining your independence and your identity. Both have value, and I think both are essential, but this is something I have yet to do successfully. I'm getting better -- I have done this increasingly well in each of the relationships I've been in. But I'm not there yet.
I think part of the difficulty for me is that I am committed and loyal and serious. But I'm also very trusting of my intuition. In all honesty, I won't spend more than an hour with you, one-on-one, if you aren't someone I see myself having a real, meaningful friendship and connection with. And even moreso for relationships -- as much as I want to dismiss the whole "you know when you know" thing, I do know. I haven't gone on more than one date with anyone I couldn't see myself with long term. It's crazy, arguably -- but I feel like if I'm not invested as much as I can be invested in something or someone, it isn't worth being a part of in the first place. I don't know how to not be committed, how to not give of myself fully. I was spoiled by a long relationship where I was loved that way in return, but in the past year and a half, I have (painfully) learned that this is not how everyone operates.
But really, I don't think this is something I should change. I don't advocate anyone living a guarded life. The fact that this is how I operate, emotionally, means that I may get hurt more often and more deeply than the average person; I have learned this. But I'd take that any day over half-assing any relationship or friendship.
So, I'm not sure where that leaves me. I keep trying, I guess, to find the healthy balance. I remember whose house I live in. And until then, I lean on my friends, and I trust myself to learn more about who I am and what I need.
-----
"Every day is a struggle, from the trough to the crest. Waves keep crashing forever, and only death brings us rest. Sometimes we drift on a current; sometimes we wrestle the rip. If I'm not waving but drowning, promise to not lose your grip. And we will fight against the tide, going under side by side. And if our lungs give out, we will breathe without, and heaven's gates will open wide. . ." - Or, the Whale
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
