swirlygirl's "Top Ten Goals"

I had a really great interview today. The position is with an oganization that I would love to work for.

By the time I left, I felt like an shoe in!

So this week is weird for me, because of all the things crammed into it.

Job interviews, appointments, friends, non-friends, family obligations, tests, and some other stuff that I think is stupid but other people tell me is important…stuff that could make it not such a crap shoot when I head to the doctor in the future.

But that’s not why I’m writing today. No, it’s something else.

Brian, and some other friends, have said that my posts are different. That the “story” portion is gone. I don’t know how to respond to his accusation.

Yeah, I am different. Because I’ve learned a very hard lesson over the past few months. One that I’d never come up against before.

Me’Shell Ndegéocello sings:

And I had been feeling that way about a lot of things—people. But the more I run, the more I unravel those knots of self-doubt.

People screw up; misplace their feelings in one another. Say things that they don’t mean. I get all of that. I don’t agree with it, but I get it.

I don’t talk about Michigan a lot. It’s not because it was so terrible that I’ve closed it off. It’s because I was an asshole. Not just a normal asshole; but a crazy jerk asshole. Those three descriptors put together should clue you in on how bad I was. There really isn’t an excuse for how I acted other than I was extremely angry and I didn’t know how to channel it into something better than mistreating someone who loved me. Cared about me so much, that he drove himself to the point of hating himself.

So I have all this…‘guilt’ is the wrong word for it. Because I don’t feel guilty about what happened. I guess I just have wishes about how things should have been different. How I should have handled things differently.

When I hit the Texas border, driving back from Michigan, I swore to myself that I would just tell someone that became involved with me what I was feeling—good or bad. Only there were a few things that happened I wasn’t expecting. I wasn’t expecting not feel any kind of feelings toward the guys I was seeing—and there were some that I didn’t. So it was easier to tell them—be free. But then I met a couple that I did have an interest in. My resolve was challenged. And it crumbled a little. My resolve also went into hyper-mode and was a little zealous. That too was wrong.

So I made 4 major cock ups in less than 3 months. Not enough for me to stop, but just the right amount for me to pull back. I don’t like that. I don’t like that I can’t just take a deep breath and move on as easily as others seem to. I take things too seriously. But I think that’s only because there is very little left in my life I approach with seriousness anymore.

Here’s the good part of all of this… (You were starting to wonder, weren’t you?)

I was in the shower this morning after running. And there it was—being soaped up with eucalyptus spearmint body wash—With flames and wings of red and gold. My fingers moved easily over the skin just to the right of my breast and down a little. My Phoenix. It hasn’t been there that long, but long enough. Long enough.

There have been worse things to happen in my life. Tornados, people dying before they should have, violence, and loads of other things. And every time, I got past it. Took something valuable away from those experiences. Natural disasters happen, but you need to stay calm when disaster strikes. Tell the people you love most how much they mean to you, everyday, even if you feel like a total ass saying it; and even if they never say it back. Don’t let anyone make you feel like a victim; you have a say in what happens to you (this last one is pretty important to me today). Which I think is why my friends are mad at me. They cannot understand how a girl who has survived so much is thrown off kilter by idiot boys.

But the shower was where everything fell into place for me. Have I ever told you that I do my best thinking in the shower? It’s just me, some water, and some awesome acoustics for the point when I yell, "Eureka!” Ok, that last part isn’t true—the “Eureka” part—but, I usually do sing a line or two from my most favorite song ever. It’s a tune by James Brown, and that’s all I’ll say about that.

The Phoenix. No one will see my Phoenix, unless they are worth it. And right now, I can’t even begin to imagine what someone would have to do or be for me to consider them “worth it”.

Don’t worry, I’m prepared to wait. Which also means that I have propelled my blog and myself into the “boring” category. Sorry about that.