Exasperation

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The Efficacy of Band-aids

I recently went sledding and snowshoeing with a group of friends up in the Cascade mountains. After a long hiatus from sledding I had forgotten how little control you actually have in terms of steering and stopping. So I basically got pretty banged up. It's especially hard to stop when you're wearing snowshoes, so you can't really dig your heels into the snow. Anyway, at one point I was going head first and my sled chose the one pointy-branch-filled stump in the middle of a vasy bare snowy area as a target. As much as I tried to steer away, and slow down, I ended up ramming my shoulder into a baseball-diameter-sized branch sticking right out toward me. With sledding momentum is not your friend. (p=mv right).

Anyway, I could tell my shoulder was bleeding under my shirt because of the way it felt. Eventually when I got back to the cabin, the group was full of opinions on what I should do. Suck it up. Leave it alone. Definitely put Neosporin on it. Definitely put a bandage on it. Tough it out. I opted for the bandaid, and one guy that was with us told me it would do no good because they're purely psychological. Thinking this guy will not make a very comforting father someday, I tried to explain that sometimes a psychological fix is just what is needed. I wanted the bandaid dammit. Anyway, it turns out the bandaids I had were not big enough, so I had to tough it out. But I stand by my belief that even if bandaids only provide psychological comfort, they can be worth every cent.

Why did you leave Boston?

Why did you leave Boston? Why did you go to Boston? Those thick, languid questions. Several times a week I'm forced to create a coherent synopsis of my major life decisions. I don't like to blow people off, so usually I make some attempt at explaining the logic behind my move to Boston and my return to Seattle. Although I'm now considering giving in to the terse, incomplete answers that people accept. Way oversimplified answer to why I went: Because of a guy. Answer to why I came back: [HELP]. That's the one I haven't found an easy answer to yet - an answer that will stop people from prying into my decisions. If I say I hated Boston, people insist I must be crazy and make me explain how I could ever dislike such an amazing city, especially since I'm from the East Coast. If I say I was unhappy, I lost my smile, my vibrance, etc., they either don't believe me or want to know why. Did you hate teaching? No. People don't believe that I couldn't find a job that I wanted. But you went to Princeton. But you worked at Microsoft. Pblaaa. Was it because you and B fizzled out? No. Enough speculation. I really need to find a short answer that people will accept and move on. I could just say, "It's personal," but you can't really say that to friends since they expect more. How about, "Things just worked out that way."? It wasn't a clear decision. It was one of those brain-vs.-gut type moves. I listened to my brain. For the next few weeks, I'm going to try out the "Things just worked out that way" answer and see what happens. Grrrrrrrr.

What do you do when...

How many times have you had one of those nights where things are a little fuzzy in the morning? How did I get in that cab? What happened between 12:30am and 2am? Well luckily I've gotten pretty good at counting drinks, so this doesn't really happen to me, but I know a lot of people who experience this somewhat regularly - mostly guys. I guess it's different for guys since safety is less of an issue. Anyway, the morning text message conversations can be pretty funny. The attempts to piece together the night without sounding like you blacked out. "Hey, so I think I might have said something I shouldn't have said last night. Please forget it." or "When was the last time you saw me last night?" or "Do you know how I ended up in Pioneer Square?"

So usually you can just help people get some clarity as best you can. But what if you remember some potentially embarrassing things. Do you tell the person? I am the kind of person that wants to know if I did something stupid, perhaps so I can apologize or at least be more self-aware. But on the other hand, sometimes telling will do no good. What do you think?

Back online!

I haven't had internet access at home for 5 days. Millennium Digital Media isn't the greatest company for internet access and they also charge too much for cable. The sales people are all really friendly but the hold times are unacceptable.

Anyway, the cable guy just left and I'm back online. So what does one do without internet access? TV got boring pretty quickly. I ended up writing a love poem. It just came out of me. I'm not a great poet. I decided this because I applied to take a poetry workshop at Princeton and I didn't get in. But I secretly still write poems sometimes. This one is pretty long and doesn't rhyme at all. I think it's called "The Space Around You." It needs some severe editing. Not sure what I'll do with it. For now I'll probably just tape it into my journal.

Everything is intense lately in a good way.