talk about love or talk about dishwasher tablets

[Fever Ray, 'Seven']

This is the first day I've had off in ages. Well, by off I mean I took a final exam in Organic Chemistry first. Then I met S and got to play with a puppy and see CG (all three= very cute), which was so much fun. S grounds me so much. Perfect start.

Then, I rushed back to my house to be picked up by GZ. I met GZ on Monday when I went swimming at the Y-- he's a lifeguard. As soon as I walked into the pool room I could see he was attracted to me. As I was swimming (head out of the pool, not concerned with speed) he asked me if I wanted some goggles, and then proceeded to give me a swim lesson. By the end of the time I was there I was much faster, and then he asked for my number. So today we were on a seven hour date (this seems to be a common theme. I do very long dates-- this used to happen with Ju, too.) Teavana (yum. love tea.) then Farmer's market for food (also yum) and then walking around Decatur and the graveyard (making out where J and I never did) and talking. It was pretty cool. He's awesome, but I have a few reservations already. I'm not going to judge him on them yet, though. a) He's a little young. I know, it's just a number. b) Some of the things he says seems like they are edited so I'll like him more-- this is part of the reason a) is an issue, actually, because I feel like that's more of an immature/unsure who you are-type thing to do. c) He doesn't seem like he'd be able to deal with all of the aspects of me-- I mentioned the queerness, and he seemed ok with it, but not entirely comfortable... I'll probe that a bit more. I suppose as a straight cis male hearing that from someone you want to date is a little confusing, so I give him props for handling as he did. He also handled my mentioning of my ED very well. (I don't usually spring these things on first dates, but it was 7 hours long. After a couple of hours it amounts to the second or third dates of "normal length".) We have plans to go night-swimming at a private pool he used to look after, but not definite as to when.

Speaking of plans, I have plans with S and CG for the 4th! Possibly the most exciting week in a while.

Speaking of exciting, today is the third day that I have honest-to-goodness been eating healthily-- by which I mean eating when I am hungry, and just enough. And it feels amazing. I feel like I am in a really good place. The only thing is both Monday night and tonight I had to go back and eat more dinner after I'd eaten with my family, because I felt light-headed and/or cranky and knew that I was way under 1100 kcals. [I really do not want to starve myself. No.] Tomorrow (or Friday, maybe) my brother is coming over for his birthday dinner and there will be peach cobbler, but I don't feel that worried about it. I feel so good about it. Go me!

Now all I need to do is talk to the cute guy in my program, ace semester 2 of organic chem, and ace the MCAT. Piece of cake, right? Life does seem a little more manageable today.

Woah. Major league exhaustion. Bed is a good idea.

I was born to laugh

[I learned to laugh through my tears-- "Born", by Over the Rhine: thanks to Mr. Sexsmith at Sugarbutch for this one]

This has been a challenging week. We started that actual hard part of Organic (memorizing amazing amounts of reactions and trying to create pathways for synthesis with very little time to process), and JB finally gathered his kahunas and told me that he doesn't reciprocate my feelings. To be honest, we'd had this discussion before via Facebook, and I could kind of instinctively sense it when I saw him, but just marked it down to British hesitance about PDA. Even Sunday, before he'd said anything, S asked me about whether he reciprocated, and I hesitated. Nonetheless, I can't pretend I was all right with it. Most of all, though, I was upset by how he pretended-- lying to me, and betraying his inner feelings-- that is what gets me more than the lack of feelings. I can completely get if feelings are not there (in fact, Sunday I 'broke up' with SJ. I didn't explain that I don't have feelings for him, though. He was taking it hard enough, and I'm not completely heartless.) But I never expecting anything to happen when I went back (hum. perhaps because we'd had that very talk before, albeit a long time ago?) Thankfully, though, I went over all this with him (I'm not sure if he understands how sad it makes me that he can't be true to himself, though.) So I've been hurting. I took off the Mickey Mouse ring I've been wearing on my thumb since I left England two years ago (I wore it upside down, since I hate Mickey Mouse, so that it looked like little monsters or even water molecules.) The skin under it is old-- so pale, and wrinkly. Vulnerable. I didn't even wear it as an emblem of whatever relationship we had, but I couldn't go on looking at it on Monday, so I pulled it off. Now, I think that I'm going to keep it off not so much because he hurt me, but more because I couldn't go on wearing a Mickey Mouse ring forever. It's time to grow up a little bit, like when I decided to stop wearing my pacifier-charm necklace.

The way I've been thinking in the last few days, though, has been surprisingly good. I've been thankful for the little things, like walking home at 9:00 from my MCAT prep class and being able to see fireflies all over my garden. Or sitting on the front porch steps in the sun, eating a peach and letting the juice slide down my wrist and under my watch, enjoying the way I twist my arm to lick the drops off. The way my arms feel in the water when I'm swimming. The neatness of my writing, and the way an organic synthesis problem comes together like a puzzle.

I've been thinking about how if I really felt all that strongly about JB if I would feel this good. It's kind of a lightness, a freedom... the thought struck me the other day: I'm done with all my Js. JF and JB are still my friends, despite hurt on either end, SJ probably won't speak to me again unless I see him or seek him out (doubtful), J is involved in his crazy life in sf, Ju never wrote back when I sent him an email explaining our break up also involved my queerness... No more Js. I'm liberated (not that I ever felt trapped, except perhaps a bit with SJ or Ju, and those issues have been dealt with.) So I got to wondering about my propensity to get infatuated with people. I've learned not to say that I love someone, since I recognize my somewhat mercurial nature. Every time I think I might possibly be starting to fall in love, something happens that lets me know that it wasn't that. Man, just today I remembered in high school saying that I thought I was in love with IR. Lord, what a fool I was. What I'm getting at is that this is not a new pattern. There's a cute guy in the new group of post-baccs, and I'm trying hard not to get too caught up and start getting obsessed with him because it might make things seem easier. He is pretty cute, though, and yesterday I saw him biking home while I was waiting at the crossroads to go to my MCAT class. (He makes me blush. Funny how sometimes I can be so flirty and out there [CM comes to mind, or AS, or AB. I really am a flirt.] and other times I can be so incredibly shy.) Achem. I'm getting side-tracked. My point is I'm very good at fooling myself. Funnily enough, though I still have every faith that one day I'll be madly in love. For a long time. We'll see.

Mother Nature's sewing machine

[hearts will hold ](Jason Mraz)

Yesterday I received another shocking tsunami wave of emotion, turning the corner into S's driveway to see a car that I thought was J's. I think I'm doing just dandy, and I am, but then these break me down for a little bit and I have to take some time to rebuild my oceanfront walls with some new mortar. I have to admit that last night I cuddled a certain stuffed animal in a manner I haven't cuddled one in years-- I didn't even let go in my sleep like I usually would. Then I woke up, agitated, and wrote a poem for the first time since November 30th (I can't believe it's been that long, that's tragic.) I haven't re-read it again, so I don't know if it's any good or not; I presume it's the usual caliber of the poetry I write when it's been a while (i.e. poor; it takes me a while to get back into the swing of it.) Needless to say, I'm experiencing a bit of tumultuous sensation this morning.


On a completely different note, Friday was a trip. I went dancing with SJ again. One thing I love about doing that is that as of yet I have not changed my clothes from what I was wearing all day (aside from removing layers), there's been no aspect of cultivation of a certain impression. In the past, my dressing up/manipulation of impression management (to be all social anthropology on it) has kind of annoyed me, as it usually does when I feel like I'm changing myself to please others (not that me dressing up is expressly changing anything about myself, since I do that anyway, but if I decide against something I love just to upkeep some impact I believe I'm having with one style, it's not true.) What I mean to say is that I've been dressing myself, from one spectrum to the other, and being accepted (will revisit this.) Anyway, Friday night. As with most of my interactions, there was a teensy bit of awkward to begin with, which-- as the dancing commenced-- soon dissipated. There was a little bit of rope, but only for a minute, and a chain for a quick second too, but nothing like the other night (the prospect itself was pretty exciting, though.) It was still amazingly hot though, especially when I finally figured out that he was packing (oh man. There were a couple of times where we might as well have been fucking in the middle of the dance floor. It felt obscene [and so, obviously, I enjoyed it even more. hehe]) A few times, in between or during dances, the way he said 'fuuuck' or shook himself as if my hotness was too much to take made me play certain things up even more (yes, I am a tease.) Later, as we were saying goodbye, we were both so worked up-- he had me growling-- I was about ready to fuck anywhere, but it was not going to happen. We did make a tentative plan to meet next week, though, when he'll be house-sitting for someone...

Saw S last night, wonderful hugs ensued. As I came home yesterday I realized that I expect people to get tired of me, or that I will always be more enthusiastic about them than them about me. I suppose it's social paranoia that's a hangover from middle school/high school drama, but it seems odd that it's such a strong feeling, though I have plenty of evidence to support the idea that I am a lovable person and an enjoyable one to have around. I keep feeling like any day now they're going to find the "real me"/some reason to not like me, latch on that, and it will all fall into the same familiar pattern of dodging. I recognize that this is a somewhat unfounded fear, but it's interesting to observe.

Also, (unrelated) I have noticed that my appreciation of electronic music increases with proportion to my age. My hypothesis is that happens in many people, but the basis has to be from quite a dislike of electronic-based music (or maybe just what techno I encountered in Italy at ages 6-10) for any comparison to be made.

Another thing of note that occurred yesterday: As I was walking with G&AD and S&C (grouped according to who was holding hands) I acknowledged that sometime in the past I would have been made to feel lonely in that situation. Instead, I felt fine, felt like I didn't desperately need to have anyone to hold hands with right now.
(Later, we all held hands, that was pretty cute.)

Falling down to get back up

I started counting calories again today. Initially, I was going to do it to lose weight again, and I'll admit that's still part of it, but not in the same old keep-myself-under-1200-and-kill-myself-running bullcrap. I don't want to feed into my eating disorder, but I also need to get some balance, and if counting calories helps, I'll do it. I'm approaching it as taking care of myself, though. More of the tone of writing stuff down so that I am holding myself accountable and am aware of what I am eating, so that I am present in that moment and enjoying what it is I'm putting in my mouth. So far today has been very successful, and I'm hopeful for the rest of the week. The plan is to continue like this until I feel stable, and then by then I will have the body trust to not need to count or write anything.

(I drew the picture above today as part of my self-care)


Yesterday I realized another strong fear of mine (as well as rejection): being forgotten. I guess that's why I'm always so honored when friends of mine from Copenhagen or Italy or England are so enthusiastic about the idea of visiting with me, even if we haven't communicated in yonks. And why I used to write--and ideally would still like to be writing (same old theme as all the classic poets, I know.) It's like Shelley (Percy Bysshe)'s Ozymandias, forgotten though he was apparently so powerful:

Ozymandias

I met a traveler from an antique land
Who said: Two vast and trunkless legs of stone
Stand in the desert . . . Near them, on the sand,
Half sunk, a shattered visage lies, whose frown,
And wrinkled lip, and sneer of cold command
Tell that its sculptor well those passions read
Which yet survive, stamped on these lifeless things,
The hand that mocked them, and the heart that fed.

And on the pedestal these words appear:
"My name is Ozymandias, king of kings:
Look on my works, ye Mighty, and despair!"

Nothing beside remains. Round the decay
Of that colossal wreck, boundless and bare
The lone and level sands stretch far away.

I don't have an empire or statues or even anything dedicated to me (as far as I know), and I don't need to be publicly remembered. I like attention, but that's far beyond what I want. What I would like is to have a lasting impression on all the people that I have a connection with. I don't need to inspire or change, but just leave a little indentation, a little mental or emotional 'Emma was here'. It's a selfish impulse, but I hardly think it's uncommon. It's like with T in Morton-- I took up the challenge because I wanted to see my effect (that's twisted.)-- and even with A, though in a far broader sense. Or maybe I just want feedback, want to know how I'm read so I can adjust it if it's in disparity with how I want to be? I know sometimes my meaning is interpreted differently than I intend, but is that because the other people are seeing what they want to, or because there's something off with my transmitter? (I just got an image of Batty from Fern Gully, with his little radio wires popping out of his head. I do feel like that sometimes-- though usually in the context of spouting random things because my conversational skills could use some help :P )
"Yo, the name is Batty / The logic is erratic / Potato in a jacket / Toys in the attic / I rock and I ramble / My brain is scrambled / Rap like an animal, but I'm a mammal."
(yep, Batty from Fern Gully, doing his rap.)

I just realized that I quote Batty almost every time I put on my glasses or contacts around somebody: "I can see! It's a miracle!" (I am aware that this may come from something else originally, but knowing how often I watched Fern Gully when I was ickle, I'm fairly certain I picked it up from here.) xD