Ugh. Feel like a human train wreck this morning. It will pass. ...Get this: blogging is my reason for getting out of bed now. Dear god, really?
Today is "no, -really-; down to business" day. -Yesterday- was this peculiar combo of four things, each discrete enough that it's difficult to think of them as all binding into a single day: morning with Nefarious (mmmm... :-) ); afternoon with Capuchin; evening out on errands; night, out with Nefarious to see "Bubba-ho-tep" at Cinema 21. Four separate segments that refuse to glue into a whole in my head. (Versus a "hole in my head".)
Dammit, I didn't even think about it being the Equinox yesterday. Used to be I would have set up a major ritual for the observation. My favorite equinox remains the one at J's old house, where we made a huge circle on the front lawn out of fallen apples. *Sigh, fondly reminiscing.* Well, I did pick up an ornamental gord at Wild Oats while re-OJ'ing the house, but without intent -- so it doesn't count. [A more intriguing gord you've never seen. Very Georgia O'keefe, if you get my drift!] I'd like to think that I'll do something Thursday or Fridayish to mark the Equinox, late, but I know who I'm kidding...
Gah! The "big news" of the day (that being yesterday) would surely be that I started the order process for a laptop at The Mac Store (nee "The Computer Store"): a 15" G4 powerbook, combo-drive only, sans frills. ...Thing is, I get to Nefarious', and she shows me the full glory of a backlit keyboard. Oh, I am weak willed. Now I don't know -what- I'm going to do. [Probably talk with J and/or Leopoldo & mph for additional opinions. Meh.] See, it's a slippery slope. Once I sign up for one frill, what holds me back from getting them all, just going for the frilly 15" (the superdrive version) instead?
See, part of the underlying issue here is the psychology of money. Budget-wise, I don't think anything's holding me back from getting the high-end model this month. But in the absence of material boundaries, I feel a need to come up with some kind of rationalization that gives me a limit. This had been "only what I need". But with a significant doubt (especially from someone who I'm enamored to!), poof!, the criteria shifts to "well, -maybe- I'll need this at some point -- I can't see the future -- doesn't it make sense to be playing with a full box of tools at my disposal?"
Which, if you want to leap from the specific out to the highly abstract, is an instance of Sven's need to justify his existence in the world. It's uncomfortable to put this idea into text, the anxiety being that someone will say it's not so and I'm classist for even thinking that there's a psychology of money (and -who- is this hypothetical reading my blog?)... Seems like if you don't have much, life is about survival and getting by; but if you've got more freedom -- time created by money -- then a burden falls on you to use that liberty in an ethically-justifiable way. Oh, sure, I know that few folks who've got means feel like this; it's probably just me (or a minority, I should say); but still. At some level, because I'm not earning my keep in the traditional sense, I need to earn my keep in an untraditional sense.
I'm wearing a poetry bracelet from N. *Big grins!* ...I know I can just take it off and put it back on again, but look at me avoiding showering to avoid removing it from my wrist.
Update on my wish to be inspired about my eating patterns: two further insights. The First: A few months ago, my life was a straight line -- I walked forward according to routines of my own creation. Since getting involved with the Crisis Line, my path has become elliptical [good word!], orbiting the needs of the agency, moving forward with my own agendas in stops and starts. Part of what this means is that I don't feel a certainty anymore that I can maintain rituals that I create for myself. When mush-eating was humming along at its best, it was nested within other ideas-made-flesh: stopping work at five, eating meals at the table by candle light, the potential time-consuming temptation of episodic TV replaced with CDs playing in the background. [Start watching an episode of the Simpsons and -- "I need closure on that anecdote!" -- 30 minutes are down the drain, right there. Listen to a CD, and you can shut it off without too much pain at the end of the next song...]
...Which leads me to The Second [and do I really need a new paragraph for this?]: because my schedule is not entirely my own, or at least because it feels that way, I'm back to my dependence on convenience foods. A possible solution: freeze my mush, thus turning it into convenience food. The complication: this is only going to work if I manage to maintain my "Friday is cleaning-the-house day" routine. Which is iffy. -Plus-, just having it in the freezer doesn't mean it's what I'm going to choose. When things are chaotic, there's a greater impetus to reach for what looks most tasty, rewarding oneself for working hard. Or, no, that's not really it, now that I think of it... Rather, rewarding oneself for being in orbit, serving someone else's interests rather than one's own.
Going for the tasty meal-in-a-box is a stand-in for selfhood. ...Which, having a cursory understanding of some of the issues addressed in the lit on binging/purging, I think is a pretty solid analysis.
Hm (I say to not have to begin this sentence with a lowercase letter) -- gl says I'm writing this blog like I'm talking to myself, whereas -she- never forgets that she's got an audience. Perhaps this is part of why I find myself not wanting to tell friends that the blog exists. Not that there's any reason not to link here [that's me giving consent, gl!]. ...I'm getting a better idea now of what I want to do with this site, and where audience is concerned, I think part of my intent is to give the people who actually want to know what's going on in my head (on Planet Sven) the opportunity to see a more intimate depiction of thought processes.
Being intimate -- even if I do omit juicier details -- I'm counting on people self-selecting out. Which is that idea I've had, once again: that I would let people reveal themselves to me as friends by their authentic, question-asking interest, rather than trying to sell myself as someone interesting by volunteering a lot. [I've talked rather a lot about that lately, though not here, so I'm going to hold off on going into it more just now.]
Other emerging reasons for doing this blog. To "use it as a contrast between what's happening on planet sven and the rest of the world, just like you do when you speak" -- as gl suggested. [Thanks! Like that idea a lot!] And to engage the poetic part of my brain. Whereas essays are like arrows springing from my bow, I'm conscientiously choosing to meander here. Like eddies in a river, allowing myself to have as many nested thoughts as I'd like, and damn the segues!
All of which makes this something of a journal. But not the kind of journal that has bogged me down in the past, where I feel compelled to record every factual detail, and then lose hope after a week of missed entries. It is a journal defined more by form than content: it shall contrast the inside with the outside, and conscientiously eddy in nested observations. ...Which could be seen as purposeful, in the sense of being a meditation that leads to clarity. Pondering my To-Do list in paragraph form is an effective form of planning. ...This is perhaps my largest worry about the blog right now, that it will devolve [or most would say "evolve"] into something too purposeful, another form of work. Nefarious promises (I mean the word poetically here) to call me on it, if I do though. Oh, yay! The threat of getting called on your shit is perhaps one of the chief unsung joys of having real friends in your life. :-)
Today is "no, -really-; down to business" day. -Yesterday- was this peculiar combo of four things, each discrete enough that it's difficult to think of them as all binding into a single day: morning with Nefarious (mmmm... :-) ); afternoon with Capuchin; evening out on errands; night, out with Nefarious to see "Bubba-ho-tep" at Cinema 21. Four separate segments that refuse to glue into a whole in my head. (Versus a "hole in my head".)
Dammit, I didn't even think about it being the Equinox yesterday. Used to be I would have set up a major ritual for the observation. My favorite equinox remains the one at J's old house, where we made a huge circle on the front lawn out of fallen apples. *Sigh, fondly reminiscing.* Well, I did pick up an ornamental gord at Wild Oats while re-OJ'ing the house, but without intent -- so it doesn't count. [A more intriguing gord you've never seen. Very Georgia O'keefe, if you get my drift!] I'd like to think that I'll do something Thursday or Fridayish to mark the Equinox, late, but I know who I'm kidding...
Gah! The "big news" of the day (that being yesterday) would surely be that I started the order process for a laptop at The Mac Store (nee "The Computer Store"): a 15" G4 powerbook, combo-drive only, sans frills. ...Thing is, I get to Nefarious', and she shows me the full glory of a backlit keyboard. Oh, I am weak willed. Now I don't know -what- I'm going to do. [Probably talk with J and/or Leopoldo & mph for additional opinions. Meh.] See, it's a slippery slope. Once I sign up for one frill, what holds me back from getting them all, just going for the frilly 15" (the superdrive version) instead?
See, part of the underlying issue here is the psychology of money. Budget-wise, I don't think anything's holding me back from getting the high-end model this month. But in the absence of material boundaries, I feel a need to come up with some kind of rationalization that gives me a limit. This had been "only what I need". But with a significant doubt (especially from someone who I'm enamored to!), poof!, the criteria shifts to "well, -maybe- I'll need this at some point -- I can't see the future -- doesn't it make sense to be playing with a full box of tools at my disposal?"
Which, if you want to leap from the specific out to the highly abstract, is an instance of Sven's need to justify his existence in the world. It's uncomfortable to put this idea into text, the anxiety being that someone will say it's not so and I'm classist for even thinking that there's a psychology of money (and -who- is this hypothetical reading my blog?)... Seems like if you don't have much, life is about survival and getting by; but if you've got more freedom -- time created by money -- then a burden falls on you to use that liberty in an ethically-justifiable way. Oh, sure, I know that few folks who've got means feel like this; it's probably just me (or a minority, I should say); but still. At some level, because I'm not earning my keep in the traditional sense, I need to earn my keep in an untraditional sense.
I'm wearing a poetry bracelet from N. *Big grins!* ...I know I can just take it off and put it back on again, but look at me avoiding showering to avoid removing it from my wrist.
Update on my wish to be inspired about my eating patterns: two further insights. The First: A few months ago, my life was a straight line -- I walked forward according to routines of my own creation. Since getting involved with the Crisis Line, my path has become elliptical [good word!], orbiting the needs of the agency, moving forward with my own agendas in stops and starts. Part of what this means is that I don't feel a certainty anymore that I can maintain rituals that I create for myself. When mush-eating was humming along at its best, it was nested within other ideas-made-flesh: stopping work at five, eating meals at the table by candle light, the potential time-consuming temptation of episodic TV replaced with CDs playing in the background. [Start watching an episode of the Simpsons and -- "I need closure on that anecdote!" -- 30 minutes are down the drain, right there. Listen to a CD, and you can shut it off without too much pain at the end of the next song...]
...Which leads me to The Second [and do I really need a new paragraph for this?]: because my schedule is not entirely my own, or at least because it feels that way, I'm back to my dependence on convenience foods. A possible solution: freeze my mush, thus turning it into convenience food. The complication: this is only going to work if I manage to maintain my "Friday is cleaning-the-house day" routine. Which is iffy. -Plus-, just having it in the freezer doesn't mean it's what I'm going to choose. When things are chaotic, there's a greater impetus to reach for what looks most tasty, rewarding oneself for working hard. Or, no, that's not really it, now that I think of it... Rather, rewarding oneself for being in orbit, serving someone else's interests rather than one's own.
Going for the tasty meal-in-a-box is a stand-in for selfhood. ...Which, having a cursory understanding of some of the issues addressed in the lit on binging/purging, I think is a pretty solid analysis.
Hm (I say to not have to begin this sentence with a lowercase letter) -- gl says I'm writing this blog like I'm talking to myself, whereas -she- never forgets that she's got an audience. Perhaps this is part of why I find myself not wanting to tell friends that the blog exists. Not that there's any reason not to link here [that's me giving consent, gl!]. ...I'm getting a better idea now of what I want to do with this site, and where audience is concerned, I think part of my intent is to give the people who actually want to know what's going on in my head (on Planet Sven) the opportunity to see a more intimate depiction of thought processes.
Being intimate -- even if I do omit juicier details -- I'm counting on people self-selecting out. Which is that idea I've had, once again: that I would let people reveal themselves to me as friends by their authentic, question-asking interest, rather than trying to sell myself as someone interesting by volunteering a lot. [I've talked rather a lot about that lately, though not here, so I'm going to hold off on going into it more just now.]
Other emerging reasons for doing this blog. To "use it as a contrast between what's happening on planet sven and the rest of the world, just like you do when you speak" -- as gl suggested. [Thanks! Like that idea a lot!] And to engage the poetic part of my brain. Whereas essays are like arrows springing from my bow, I'm conscientiously choosing to meander here. Like eddies in a river, allowing myself to have as many nested thoughts as I'd like, and damn the segues!
All of which makes this something of a journal. But not the kind of journal that has bogged me down in the past, where I feel compelled to record every factual detail, and then lose hope after a week of missed entries. It is a journal defined more by form than content: it shall contrast the inside with the outside, and conscientiously eddy in nested observations. ...Which could be seen as purposeful, in the sense of being a meditation that leads to clarity. Pondering my To-Do list in paragraph form is an effective form of planning. ...This is perhaps my largest worry about the blog right now, that it will devolve [or most would say "evolve"] into something too purposeful, another form of work. Nefarious promises (I mean the word poetically here) to call me on it, if I do though. Oh, yay! The threat of getting called on your shit is perhaps one of the chief unsung joys of having real friends in your life. :-)
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