(77) from your cell phone;
(78) from your email address book

Done. And now?

M and I took a walk and discussed the situation with L, particularly my agreement to not talk to her anymore. Agreement? Statement? It was good to have the opportunity to vent to someone other than J, doubly because I won’t talk to J again for a few days. There is definitely absurdity in acting for months on assumptions about where someone stands, more so when it’s based on a single conversation. I suppose that if I didn’t care I wouldn’t bother. This relationship continues to underscore the importance of communication and the difficulty when there isn’t any.

Closing a door leaves much less to question than yelling out an open one into the dark.

A dry bike ride into work this morning.

> over a hundred hours of therapy has taught me that while it is very difficult, it is what it is.
> feelings are a funny thing to traipse through.

I made plans last night to be irresponsible and go hang out with R. Thus, it was ironic to get email from M this morning asking me to yield.

These two events have made this morning particularly crazy. Excited, cautious, anxious. The expected and the unexpected collide.

I need to email T back, and I’ve been pondering how long it feels it has been since I had a decent two-sided conversation. Probably since K and I dated?

Man, so many conversations to have, but they’re meaningful so they take so much energy.

100 ways to say I love you.

Go Modern
(76) Get rid of the old girlfriends from your social networking websites;
(77) from your cell phone;
(78) from your email address book

That crosses my mind now and then.

I was up too late last night
with the lights down low and a bottle by my side
wondering if you’d call me up to talk

I really don’t know how it’s all going to work out, but somehow I have faith it will, eventually, perhaps a bit late.

P: Act One, in which she pretends she doesn’t care about him.
P: Act Two, in which he pretends he doesn’t care… and goes right for her.
P: Act Three, in which it all plays out the way she planned it. She’ll eat him alive.
W: We’ve got to stop them.
P: Stop them? You were her excuse for coming here.

M said to let it go. And then, as if on cue, it knocked on the door, head in hands. I told M I was worried I didn’t care, and she said I obviously did because I was thinking and discussing the situation. There’s really far too much going on though, and I really may need to hide.

Dad used to say, “there are people that I like, [pause to catch his breath] but I don’t like people.” For an introvert, I like people, except, I think they wear on me. I think, as I get older, they wear on me even more. I feel like I have no spare energy for complicated conflict resolution. I’ve been wondering if there being an answer to “what are you going to do about it?” is a valid test. Accepting “think more about it,” as an answer makes it feel so. This feels makes me feel not quite alone, but, distant.

J had a lot to say about meaning. I was trying to place my indifference to how people live their lives and she thought the key was that the choices I make are meaningful to me in some way, and others choices are meaningful to them. Watching TV after work, or keeping a dead-end job have meaning as long as it is important for someone that they not be stressful or not feel they owe something, or other items of importance.

I’ve heard people who identify as introverts say clearly that they need time to recuperate from social interaction. I always go back to Caring for your introvert.

Do you know someone who needs hours alone every day? Who loves quiet conversations about feelings or ideas, and can give a dynamite presentation to a big audience, but seems awkward in groups and maladroit at small talk? Who has to be dragged to parties and then needs the rest of the day to recuperate? Who growls or scowls or grunts or winces when accosted with pleasantries by people who are just trying to be nice?

If so, do you tell this person he is “too serious,” or ask if he is okay? Regard him as aloof, arrogant, rude? Redouble your efforts to draw him out?

Oh that always makes me giggle and feel better.

Family often asks me what I think they should do with my father. I want to tell them to just do what he asks until he dies.

Is that wrong?

I had a bit of an argument with T the other day about It’s Kind of a Funny Story. She thought the movie trivialized the lives of mentally ill people in the course of providing an unrealistic plot device. I called bullshit, literally, then tried to find a way to explain myself. I still don’t know how to. I feel like there is a relationship here with being frustrated with the focus on anti-racism in some of my social groups lately and the us versus them mentality surrounding the Seattle PD lately. I usually joke that I’m an offensive man from a small town in the woods and somewhat kill the conversation. I don’t intend to kill it, but I give most people an out from there.

L told me recently that I was a conundrum. I forget her evidence, but none of it was a surprise. It was something like that being a flannel wearing bearded man who swaps transfer cases doesn’t fit with being an emotive blogger who volunteers a lot. M responded a bit to my inquiry about how she feels about fitting into the world, which excited me. There is some interesting confirmation in L calling me a conundrum and my conversation with M about being a round peg in a world of square holes.

I only recently remembered that I’m meeting J tomorrow instead of our usually Tuesday. Boo.

Work more.