http://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cognitive_dissonance

I’ve meant to write this down for a while

sorry i couldn’t be more subtle/sophisticated about it.

That’s amazing. Maybe its that I’ve spent the last two meals reading Malcolm Gladwell (again), a sign that I’m clearly back in solid introspective growth territory since my fathers passing, but, I love the possibility.

K and I shared a gifted and talented (G&T) art class, around fifth grade. I liked her then, but I couldn’t tell you in what way. I couldn’t tell you much from that age, in fact. I was in a few G&T classes then. I learned BASIC in one, and there may have been one for math. I forget how this worked, when I found the time for the tiny group or one-on-one lessons. When I tracked her down on facebook, it was this unidentifiable attraction that drove it. I was really happy that she turned out to be someone I did like, twenty years later.

Once again, I found myself talking to J about my incredibly strong yet irrational feelings for Z. I’ve gained a lot of acceptance for them, but I’m still having trouble focusing on what those feelings mean for my future. J responded by telling me about reading about gifted people feeling more strongly than most. She added that I had found a connection to Z, and noted that is incredibly rare for me.

This bothered me.

One of the basic characteristics of the gifted is their intensity. Intensity is not a matter of degree but of a different way of experiencing: vivid, absorbing, penetrating, encompassing, complex, commanding – a way of being quiveringly alive.

I’ve thought and written in the past about identifying with “A Beautiful Mind” circumstances emotionally, although I always downplay my intelligence. In the same way I prefer to be recognized as just another guy who can help you fix your truck rather than a highly paid and skilled technology worker, I’ll take smart over gifted any day.

Only a few more days until I’m home. I need to build a garage in Maine and I’m not sure when I’ll find the time, but it doesn’t feel right to have someone else build it.

Days that I wake up with a headache always feel like a struggle to stay productive. Still, I got some errands done.

I’ve got some great thoughts in my head, and a meaty email from K to respond to, but I just can’t seem to think straight long enough to construct sentences out of it.

Somehow the slowest day of the week is the one when all I want is some TV and someone to hold.

Whenever I move large sums of money around:

• the teller asks me what I plan to do with the money.
• the teller calls the branch manager.
• the teller explains that this is because of the large sum.
• the teller explains that there will be a hold.
• the manager asks me what I plan to do with the money.
• the manager explains to me that there will be a hold.
• I smile, nod, and drink their coffee.

Because I’m terrible at scheduling things during business hours, I always have to plan ahead for this experience.

I’ve had a reluctance lately to drone on indecipherably about what I’m feeling. In a separate but possibly related note, I have a drive to produce something more creative and personal, perhaps from next months trip.

I leave for Maine in just over a week. Eleven days until the burial. I’ll be there for a week. I’ll see some people, mostly I look forward to spending some time up to Jerry Pond.

I have a lot of positive energy I really want to share right now, but, I think I’m storing it up for someone. I don’t know who.

I was thinking recently about how my okc profile used to have a link to a photo of me from ten years ago playing video games. I could probably count on one hand the number of times I’ve playing computer games in the last five years. Video games are a bit more, just from having consoles around at parties here and there. But really, I stopped playing video games. My first memory is always M yelling at me on Thanksgiving day after we moved to Seattle for playing a computer game while she cooked. I was upset about it. Probably mostly from the exhaustion of working so much. She’d probably have dropped an “I told you so,” if I had said as much at the time. Oh, youth.

Anyway, the last couple days have seen some time spent evaluating the language around my desires, so I’ve been thinking about the past in this way as well.

Sallie Mae wanted to let me know my student loan was paid in full. The costs aren’t worth it, but thanks Dad.

I woke up at 6am today, anxious to get to work and meet with my boss. I’ve lost count at the false starts I’ve made at trying to set things in order. I don’t consider the false starts my fault, up until perhaps the point where I’ve been punched so many times I don’t have the drive to try again until I spend some time back in my corner. It’s been a good week or two, so I was up for it.

Except that I didn’t need to be in the office until 9am. At a regular pace it’s a half hour to get ready and another half hour to bike to work. That gave me two hours to create an Alaska motorcycle trip itinerary and send it off to a couple of friends for perusal.

The morning felt successful, I had a solid approved direction. Those in my corner, helping me out, were also excited. Unrelated meetings were had, and throughout the day I kept pretty busy. At the end of the day I was still pushing forward alone, and when I tried to connect ran right into another wall.

I came home and took a nap. Then I got Facebook to find me some plans for the evening. K was working late, told her husband I was stealing her and off we went for meal. This helped put the evening back on track. Tomorrow maybe I’ll forget trying to lead change and do some plain old work again.

Once again, M wrote about thoughts that immediately touched home. Reading her blog and the hectic day at work drove to walk down to the pier for a coffee and some time with the smell of the ocean. Is it really still only Tuesday?

I woke up to about twenty facebook notifications due to people withing me a happy birthday. This is nice. Although facebook wall posts are a little light, it makes me feel good to think about how people were thinking about me and care. I hope for letters every morning. Actually, in the see of notifications I had a message from K, who doesn’t believe in facebook walls anyway. Of course, I thought of M as well, and my absurd uninvited unrelenting longing to hear from her.

Dear M,

Wherever you are out there in the world, abashedly fighting the good fight against the trials of life, I’m thinking about you.

B