10 posts tagged “friends”
The Proust Questionnaire
Tiffany introduced it to me, via Jason via Anna. (And Sam begat William and William begat..)
I like these types of exercises, especially when I'm foggy and panicked generally unclear (as this Monday morning finds me). The Proust questionnaire is named for the French writer Marcel Proust, serving as the inspiration for more introspective interviews, an exercise in self exploration and a peak into the true motivations of the people providing the answers.
1. What is your idea of perfect happiness?
Emotional health and physical health, the ability to cover my expenses without any great anxiety, knowing without hesitation that I am loved, supported and valued by the people I love, support and value...and the freedom to create things with my own two hands.
2. What is your greatest fear?
That the things currently causing me grief, will never pass. That this, right now, is all there is to life.
3. What is the trait you most deplore in yourself?
My fear of inadequacy.
4. What is the trait you most deplore in others?
Cowardice.
5. Which living person do you most admire?
My aunt Elizabeth. She finds the growth in every challenge. She does amazing things but remains incredibly humble. She can hug you and reduce you to tears just from the love coming from her pores. She sees the best in you and never lets you deny that it is there. She finds joy and beauty in the things many take for granted. She's faced incredible adversity with the courage of a lion and never reduces herself to bitterness. She loves hard, thinks unselfishly, fights for what she believes in and...she's just a wonder.
6. What is your greatest extravagance?
Art supplies.
7. What is your current state of mind?
Afraid. Confused. Scattered. Isolated.
8. What do you consider the most overrated virtue?
Chastity. But only because of the other recognized virtues, it is the one least inclined to impede your ability to be a healthy, happy, productive individual. I know lots of people that ain't "chaste" but live life with fulfillment and purpose.
9. On what occasion do you lie?
When I'm afraid that the truth is going to really hurt someone with no positive consequence, self included.
10. What do you most dislike about your appearance?
My stomach.
11. Which living person do you most despise?
Well, there are a lot of people I don't like. The world is chock full of regrettable people. Though I find it more often to be a curse more than a blessing, I can sympathy or empathy for most. The living person I most despise right now might be Rush Limbaugh. He's dangerous and stirs unscrupulous passions for his own amusement. That sort of small minded deviance works on my ability to think kind thoughts.
12. What is the quality you most like in a man?
Integrity. Not just one's ability to speak truthfully, but to do so at the cost of your own comfort and ease. Someone that is willing to be seen for who they are. To stand in their truth and not the shadow of what they want others to believe they are.
13. What is the quality you most like in a woman?
Grace. The ability to consider feelings and actions with wisdom and well being and to act gracefully even when it might be difficult to do so.
14. Which words or phrases do you most overuse?
I can't.
15. What or who is the greatest love of your life?
My dog. I can always count on her to love me, tend to my wounded feelings and remind me that there's a being out here that will always give as much as or more than she takes. My childhood best friend, Jameel. Over thirty years and going strong. He's been the only one to always be there, to protect me on those occasions I couldn't protect myself and to keep all of my truest thoughts, fears and feelings safe and secure. He's probably the only person I've known that closely or long who has never snatched the rug out from under me.
16. When and where were you happiest?
The day I graduated from college and saw absolute blissful joy and delight on my father's face, knowing I had everything to do with it. A time long ago when I thought I was in love with someone just as in love with me. While everything else is in that story is but a work of fiction, that feeling I had was truer than most anything I've ever experienced. And I try to remain grateful for it.
17. Which talent would you most like to have?
The ability to read minds.
18. If you could change one thing about yourself, what would it be?
My tendency toward self-preoccupation.
19. What do you consider your greatest achievement?
I think that's yet to be discovered.
20. If you were to die and come back as a person or a thing, what would it be?
An eagle. (feathers, not helmets)
21. Where would you most like to live?
Sometimes I think New Mexico. Loads of pottery there, lots of ceramic inspiration, still away from the hustle and bustle of life in a city. Places I would spend a year or two? London. Toronto. New Zealand. Portugal.
22. What is your most treasured possession?
My laptop.
23. What do you regard as the lowest depth of misery?
A life with no other passion but material gain or personal recognition.
24. What is your favorite occupation?
Potter. Followed by writer.
25. What is your most marked characteristic?
I honestly don't know. I don't trust that I've ever had a clear lens for how others see/observe me.
26. What do you most value in your friends?
Their sincerity.
27. Who are your favorite writers?
Neil Gaiman, Octavia Butler, Pearl Cleage, Paulo Coehlo, C.S. Lewis, Anchee Min, Gabriel Garcia Marquez, Maya Angelou
28. Who is your hero of fiction?
Ellen Ripley from the Alien series.
29. Which historical figure do you most identify with?
I don't think I know enough about the inner workings of any historical figure to say who that person would be.
30. Who are your heroes in real life?
The people who are driven each and every day to the commitment of human services, community service and charitable efforts.
I warned you about strange posts, right?
I should not be posting right now. I have over a hundred email to view and address, plans for the close of tomorrow's tradeshow to ponder, and itineraries to confirm as company den mother to ensure my reps know where they are going and how they are getting there.
But I have to get these two things off my chest. If you are allergic to bitchiness, you should stop reading here.
I mean hate. Probably because in the past three days, I have heard this word exchanged amongst my team at least 40 times. So many times that this morning, as they bickered on the drive to the convention center, I finally exclaimed: "If I hear the *bleep*ing word DUDE in this truck one more time between here and the show, I am pulling over and you are walking the rest of the way. PROMISED." There was silence for a moment, and then rep #1 in the passenger seat looks at me and says,
"Dude, are you serious?"
I'll allow you to imagine what my reply might have been. They thought it was funny until I pulled over to the shoulder of the road. I know I should drown them out by repeating wholesome goodness in my head to keep me balanced, but there's only so much of that you can do when these guys spend the entire day trading insults like 12 year olds in a dugout.
Damn I must be getting old.
2. There is only one thing worse than someone who is a bad friend. It is a poser, pretending to be a friend.
I contend, some bad friends don't realize they are bad. They just haven't had a lot of experience. They can be worked with and with compromise, a great friendship can be established from a rocky start. Posers...there is no hope for them. Primarily because they were never interested in being your friend. They are opportunists. Identifying someone that can offer them something, be it exposure to a certain crowd, access to certain resources, or just the support of someone's hand holding theirs through a tough time. Posers come in talking grand, telling you all the things they admire or love about you all while heaping all their drudgery and drama into your lap for you to sort. While you're on task for them, they are ever available. Calling, IMing, emailing, inquiring and whatever else. Once they've used up all the resources they believe you can reasonably offer? They disappear.
Ain't no sense in calling these folks out. They've spent YEARS turning a blind eye to their own behavior. It's far better to acknowledge that you gave from a good place. And no matter the intentions of the receiver...to give from the heart is never a bad thing.
But once you recognize those opportunists posing as friends? Do yourself a favor and insert a little polite distance. Trust me...they are WAY too self absorbed to even realize what you're doing. In fact, for the first six months...they won't even notice. And by the time they do, you won't care enough to hold any hard feelings. And they will have moved on to another host. Bless their little vampired hearts.
Ever have a song you've heard a hundred times before, but on one instance you hear it differently? Perhaps a certain lyric or instrument suddenly makes you realize how talented musicians are? You hear only them playing for a moment and you say,
"DAMN!!!"
Yeah. I had that moment driving to the studio on Sunday morning. Everybody knows I like Incubus, this is no secret. The first release from their last album Light Grenades, "Anna Molly" is heavy in my song rotation still. I play it. A lot. But on this particular morning, I'm riding along a mostly empty Mopac and all I hear is the drums. Nothing else. And from the beginning of this song to the last note, their drummer, Jose Pasillas is working like a beast. Next thing I know, I'm at a light grinning like an idiot feeling this song like it's the first time I heard it.
Jose, you are ridiculous. Sorry I took you for granted for so long.
On a side note...I received a lil something in the mail from my favorite slap target and absolute inner sanctum friend, Barry. A gentle nudge (actually a decent shove) towards getting my novel done, and pursuing my writing with greater zeal.
Duly noted, my friend. Duly noted.
My father used to say to me all the time as a kid..."You are the company you keep." I figured that was merely his way of reminding me to make friends with the "right sort" of folk. In sixth grade that meant hang with the girls who made good grades, who didn't curse and who weren't inclined to get me into trouble, But even today, even now that saying still holds weight. There are two sorts of friends I think I've kept over time.
1. The ones that I thought I should be friends with. (aka: energy zaps r' us)
2. The ones that actually have inspired, nurtured and supported me. (aka: the keepers of the light)
As I talk about cleaning up, clearing up, sweeping away debris and making a way for my next chapter...I find myself spiritually confronted with the growing discomfort of sitting in friendships that are two sizes too small. Ones which makes make me feel trapped or in some way unable to breathe. The friends that may or may not mean well, but seem only to thrive when one of us or both of us is being incredibly insincere. The ones where you spend more time trying not to start an argument then you do actually enjoying their company.
Historically, I have had a difficult time with closure. I think bluntly, but only recently learned to speak in the same manner. I pardoned the unpardonable, excused the inexcusable, ignored the obvious and swallowed anything remotely authentic about how that relationship made me feel. Sometimes, I'd get so tripped up in who should be measured out blame, that I missed the bigger point. When a friendship has outgrown it's shelf-life...it's no ones fault. It's just important to acknowledge it and free each other from the discomfort of sitting in shoes that no longer fit. You may agree, you may not. Doesn't change what remains. I've always assumed that if I tell someone that I'm not sure the friendship feels "healthy" anymore - I will be the bad person. I will have caused someone duress. Even at my snarkiest, I've never enjoyed hurting anyone.
At some point though, in the quest to clean the house and tidy up for the next chapter of your life, you are going to come face to face with the company you keep. I can say for the first time in my life, the people in my inner circle truly do enhance the quality of my experiences. In small and large ways. I can also say that I need to make a better effort at trimming the fat, to eliminate some white noise. To free up some space for much needed quiet. Quiet spirit. Quiet mind. Quiet experiences. Peace and quiet that only centered, balanced, authentic people seem to bring.
No. This doesn't mean I'm excommunicating folks right and left. Sometimes, it's just adjusting proximity. Managing boundaries. Not feeling the need to seek validation or tell your business to acquaintances cleverly disguised as friends. Knowing the difference between the two - and treating them both with the respect and distance or honesty they deserve. When I go back to the types of friends I've kept, I know number one is where I trim the fat. Number two...number two's list makes life much more palatable.
All I truly need are a few good friends.
If you were there...then you know exactly what I'm talking about...
I think you're amazing...
And this song makes me goofily happy.
...what the hell am I looking for, anyway?
I was catching up with NYCinephile yesterday, and during our conversation I was telling him about some of the strides (or slips and tumbles) I've been making in the area of dating.
Dating while recovering. I suppose we're all doing that, those of us that carry the title "single" in our social profiles. Well, maybe some of us are all healed up, shiny and new with all the answers to life...but I suspect the bulk of us are somehow, someway trying to get over something. Even if that something is as simple as our own fears.
I was telling him about SC, a guy I've been talking to for a few months now. Out of the "bites" I've received over the past few months, his is the one that has lingered best to date. Of course, he's also the one who bites from the farthest distance. In my chat with NyCine, I was trying to make heads or tails of our interactions. What's fair? What's proper discloure? What if I don't know where I'm going right now? What if? What if? What if? What if this interaction is really just distraction?
NYCine, in his typical brilliant fashion, makes the complicated painfully simple.
"What if it is?"
I sat there, stupefied. Exactly. What if it is? Where's the damned crime in that? And that was a deeper question that I've been struggling with. In an effort to make everything significant, I've been hesitant to do anything. That includes just...living. I have this habit of wanting everything to have a point. To have some sort of deeper meaning. And therein lies the source of my great angst.
There is something to be said for allowing yourself to exist in the space you are in. To experience all that the world is trying to show you. To, as GinBaby reminded me...flow like water.
Yeah, I have no clue what the hell is going to happen from this day to the next. But I do know it's time to stop fighting the current. Thanks NyCine. We always get what we need, don't we? Funny how we always get what we need.
Note: I tried to add an audio track to this, and it's hanging. So...if you haven't heard him yet...give James Morrison a listen. I'll post some tracks later.
I sit in mom's kitchen, pondering my existence, the passing of Gerald Ford and what exactly I should be blogging about this morning.
There's so much that could be said, and so much more I could should be silent about. Some things are better for books than blogs, right?
This was an odd holiday, no bones about it. Everyone I spoke to seemed to be experiencing some sort of malaise. A general lack of shiny elf-like magic that's media tells us we should feel. I came into the holiday fiercely determined to remain upbeat, cheerful, happy and accepting of all events that piece together a puzzle I can't see yet. I dodged the negative thoughts and energies I felt around me, convinced there is something in my nature that encourages people to complain knowing that they will receive an encouraging reply. I vowed to myself I would return only good strong energy. The sort you build sandcastles on when you're a child, confident nothing could ever come and wash it away. A blind, naive trust that the universe wants to bring you something beneficial. There's a little kid somewhere in me that desperately wants to believe in this notion.
I missed my voxers. I'm looking forward to catching up with my neighbors. I missed this space. It's very hard to write, anything...when I return Philly. Even to journal. It's unfortunate too, as I typically experience/see/feel so many things during these sojourns. So much to say, but I remain silent. I suppose I'm waiting for the dust to settle, and to return to a place that allows me to sit quietly enough to get it out. So for any of you who are interested...some random thoughts I've been chewing on:
- James Brown passed on Christmas Day. As is typical of human nature, I must have heard 20 or so alternative posthumus titles for his songs. Absurd little takes on his song titles. Bizarre how we mask our discomfort regarding death with humor.
- Ever noticed that somethings are so difficult to return to? Sleep from nightmare, sweet dreams in general, childhood and illusion from clarity, in particular.
- Is it foolhardy to return to Texas carrying a Philadelphia Eagles duffel bag full of presents?
- I was told by a certain someone that there's a present waiting for me when I return to Texas. And yes. For those of you who weighed in on this and this...you'll know how curious/terrified/excited/concerned I am about the prospect of this. My mantra is..."make nothing of everything." Still I wonder...why a present?
Except when I lie.
And I only lie when I'm feeling like it's what I need to do to belong. I only do it when I'm feeling inadequate, or unable to relate to the surroundings. So as opposed to standing apart, I struggle to blend in.
I suppose with age comes wisdom, so I lie far less, stand true far more.
But what is truth? When it varies so largely by what we individually see? And how can there be any universal truths when we all see things so differently? The short answer is that it's relative. Truth, that is. Relative to where you are. What you can accept. What you are willing to see...and then what you are willing to reveal.
I come in naked, so I'm told. I bear all. Shed my clothes to reveal everything. Every curve, imperfection and flaw that is me. I yearn for it in my relationships. The dreaded "I" word. Intimacy. I want that...and nothing less. If I am willing to be open, vulnerable and exposed in all my beauty and shit...I expect that from everyone I know. And facing the disappointment that oft times people aren't entirely willing to strip naked and bear themselves has been a jagged little pill for me to swallow.
I guess I never really considered how that can frighten people away. I also never considered that I tend to draw in the very people who run from it the most. Tangled in an odd exchange of push pull, I strip naked and wait for others to join me.
So what to do when you want to be naked in a world of people staring at you in horror? Do you throw some clothes on and live in that world? Or, do you summon the courage to keep on, until you find someone willing to be seen as much as they wish to truly see you?
Last night, over Palak Paneer, Shiner Bock and Moulin Rouge, my Steve and I discussed the angst that anchors a peaceful existence. We're all such frustrated beings. Some of us searching for people who will lie to us as we lie to them...others on a quest for an impossible dream. We're an odd pair, oddly attracted and simultaneously repulsed by our complulsive similarities. He knows my obsessions because he has them. And we tear into each other with arguments that cut each other to the bone...and then hug, because we both understand the deeper pain that triggers both of us. And there we are, cuddled up again, the dearest of friends who love but could never be in love. I know him too well, as he knows me. A blessing and a curse. I tease him and tell him he's gay. He tells me I'm the manliest woman he knows. And together we make each other laugh til we cry. Mostly because we know on a deeper level we're understood. And we call each other on every lie we ever form our lips to tell.
I told him of this naked theory, and he confirmed. He confirmed my obsessive quest to peel back the layers of clothing to get to flesh, blood and organs. Exhaustive examinations of every inch of beautiful existence, even what feels ugly. That's what intimacy is to me. Blaring, cutting, terrifying truth. And if I wll show you mine...best believe I want to see yours.
That always seems to be such a lonely request.
Random, wholesome yumminess in the last 24 hours...
Catching up with my friend Steve who I've bitterly missed for the past month. We cruised the ATX in his "newish" car, and I gave him some new gray hair as I demonstrated what whipping a sports car is truly about.
Having the ticket booth dude wave us by at Alamo Drafthouse because we made him laugh so hard at our argument over which movie, my drag racing mastery and the general complexities of dealing with a world of people who don't get it - but swear they do. Our comic routine rewarded us two free seats and a bit of an entourage.
Guinness and munching on chicken fingers, falafel and the best mozzarella sticks ever made while watching Borat. (For these reasons, the beer and food selections and the amazing dining/movie system - ADH is our ONLY spot to watch memorable flicks)
Making a scrumptious spinach quiche with Steve at midnight, chasing down beers with a Chilean Shiraz. (How I am not woefully hungover today astounds me) We watched a horrifically bad horror short called "Pelts" and when I say bad...I mean...AWFUL. And gross. Which of course makes for great entertainment with a friend whilst you make quiche.
Getting up this morning and running three miles, and doing some early morning hobby shopping,
Hanging with Letie and Chris, eating the hottest jalapeno burgers on the planet.
Picking up the new Incubus CD.
Tonight? Palak Paneer, Shiner Bock and chillin'....
As the closest man to me in life once said, "Just because you've come to the amusement park doesn't mean you get a ticket to ride the rides." I used to think that was so cold. I now understand.
I've always been an all or nothing kinda girl. I pour a lot into every experience. A LOT. Of energy. Of time. Of consideration. Of support. Of patience. Of thought. Of tenderness. Of compassion. Of me. Oft times, I find myself terribly disappointed with that results of those efforts. I give too much, and seem to expect much more of people then what they are prepared to give. No judgement comes with that. We all have to live in a manner that makes sense to us. I think the only way to potentially alter that, is to temper the amount of me that I give.
I seem to set myself up in lopsided, manipulative, deceptive and false exchanges that drain out my good energy and replace it with cotton candy. Sweet, sugary but woefully devoid of substance. But that ain't their problem. That's mine. I can't control what people try and offer me. I can only control how much good energy I'm willing to offer in exchange for it...and...how much candy I let people offer me before I smile politely and say, "thanks, but no thanks. I'm full."
Games are eternally afoot. Needs disguised as general conversation, my intuition will whisper things to me that I don't want to believe. Plots twisted, revised and creatively assembled to create one reality when there is quite another underway. It can't be the same old thing. It can't be more cotton candy. It can't be more fluff. It can't be that again? My intuition whispers, "Just watch. This, then this, this will unfold. You know it. You knew it. Now watch." Good news is, at least I'm acutely aware. And there's never any damage, just a weary shake of the head and shrug.
I smile that rueful smile that makes me take one more step back. Raise the shields. I watch. The things I see, always come to pass. My silence seems to indicate to others that I'm gullible enough to believe what I'm told. They don't know any better. Yet I still grapple with the annoyance that people believe they've actually sold me on something.
I don't always speak. But I always know. This year's lesson? Clear the cotton candy, speak only truth or be silent. To others I charge, offer only authenticity, or know that I won't be bothered because I have plenty of my own cotton candy to manage, I don't want yours. This amusement park is under reconstruction. Only serious, serious, serious riders will be offered a ticket. They are no longer for sale.
Time to really embrace the notion I offered to someone else earlier this week. The universe doesn't give us anything that we haven't inherently asked for. Don't know what it means to others, but I know what it means to me.
On a side note...NaNoWriMo'ing continues this weekend. A little over 12,000 words to meet the 50K goal...but that's just the beginning of this work for me. 50K will be done this weekend. *Yes, I said it* I'm adding an additional challenge to myself, to see if I can clear 100K - because there is still so much in the story left to tell. Then will come the revision and editing. The cleaning up. I want to take a moment to extend sincere appreciation to my writing group buddies and everyone who has stopped by and offered words of inspiration (my WG even tried to give me "passes" on our weekly writing assignments to stay focused).
