When you don’t see another human for over forty hours and you simultaneously are enjoying gorgeous soul defining views, you get a lot of time for deep contemplation. I did not, however, take anything to write these thoughts down on. Most of them are likely now permanent parts of me, sans the opportunity to observe their shape before they joined the rest of me. Some I will remember and will fuel writing to come.

I have to unpack still, M and I ran off to the Home Show for a bit. She needed to go to school and I mostly wanted to hang out, although I giddily climbed through the sheds. No sir, I don’t need your price list, I build these myself.

Fed and showered. Now probably some more feeding, a couple errands, and if there’s time, formulate a plan for how to write about this weekends adventures.

I am taking advantage of having Monday off and I am headed to Hex and Sasse mountain near Cle Elum tomorrow. My bedroom is cover in gear. Clothes, backpack, tent, sleeping bag. I swear the whisperlite worked last time I used it. When was that? Didn’t I have two old ones? Did I loan one? I hate that. Is it that time already?

Current theme song: Bonnie Tyler – Making Love Out of Nothing at All.

Reflective days lately. I just want to be outside.

And I’m never gonna tell you everything I gotta tell you
But I know I gotta give it a try

I may have written about this lately, but I got talking to J about how I naturally fall back on being up front with how I feel and what I think. I suppose I’m pretty good at filtering what I think as appropriate, but I struggle more with filtering how I feel. It was really hard, and still is, deciding what to keep from L. It’s sort of a moot point, I suppose, but it feels real, so it is real. I suppose this filters people, because not everyone really knows how to deal with how raw I can be. I definitely throw a blanket of sarcasm over all of it. A friend made a comment about the tunnel on facebook recently which sparked a bit of debate. I responded mostly with sarcasm, such as complaining about the gridlock on the ferries, but did make some honest remarks. A couple people laughed at my jokes. One gave recognition to my use of references in a facebook argument. Another said,

In general I don’t engage arguments against the BTM ‘cuz he’s one of those rare people smart enough to withhold an opinion unless he’s got solid backing for it.

I laughed because he’s right. I don’t like arguing over something I don’t think I know much about or have experience with. I hate it when other people do. It’s pretty neat that someone noticed. I think.

But yeah! It feels real, so it is real. God dammit, kid. Next person that tells me to “get over it” I’m going to have Tori punch.

Anyway, I don’t know that it’s particularly common that folks figure out what’s on the other side of that sarcasm. I mean, people that spend a while around me all get to know my heart and dependability. This course is why I tend to laugh at trying to figure out other people too much, since it has been such a road figuring out myself. Along the way I’ve learned to not try to make everyone like me, and not worry too much when they don’t. As I told M recently, “I just often feel like I’m squinting at a star-ish shaped piece wonder if it’s going to squeeze into that space or not.” Also, fuck your context.

Strange, strange night. Short bike ride with the kids nearly to Georgetown then back to Belltown. Good to get out and do a few extra miles, even if it was only a few more than I do any day. Good to see old friends, have a few drinks. A little too much tomfoolery on my part, and I damaged my friends car, but things can always be fixed. It’s always interesting to come and go and see how the relationship status of girls in the group affects a social circle. I had to keep a check on my protective nature, actually. Anyway, home. It’s almost the weekend. I’m still planning on heading out of town alone. I could go to PDX with bike kids, but I just want to be outdoors and I don’t really have anyone else in that world. I want to say right now, but, I haven’t really. Maybe briefly J, but she was never comfortable with the fact that I liked her. Oh! Ran into B tonight. How, strange. She told me about her boyfriends bike and asked him to pronounce it for her because it was german. I’m glad she’s happy. They moved in together, and while that blows my mind in relation to my history, it’s probably perfect for her and, again, I am glad she is happy. And so it goes.

I attribute much of my life to working really hard. Not in the white privileged way where I think if everyone else just worked hard they would have as much as me. But in this way where I’ve always had a naturally strong work ethic. M commented last time I saw her about how amazing it is that people get up every day and go to work. I grew up listening to my father saying that is just what you do, even when you don’t want to, you get up and do what needs to be done. To some degree, I put what needs to be done before taking care of myself. I acknowledge that taking care of myself probably needs to be done.

I wake up some mornings and check my email extremely hopeful that something in the world has changed and someone has something meaningful to say to me. I’m almost always disappointed.

Plus there can be an overwhelming physcial feeling of lethergy, tiredness, and no energy. Then if you add SAD psychological conditon to the mix, it just amplifies everything. Plus you metion other undelt with issues as well which compound everything plus may introduce a sense of guilt. That is a whole lot to deal with….

A friend of one of my grandparents had some things to say about my fathers situation. This man doesn’t know my father. This reminds me that I was talking to a friend the other day about how my parents have never pressured me to settle down and they said, “even your father?” I don’t know what caused them to believe my father would care, but it took me a moment to realize they had no understanding of my father and had never met them. My friends that had always liked him and got a kick out of him. In any case, I feel like my fathers situation is clear to me.

Where does this sense of calmness I have come from anyhow? A few weeks ago I was really frustrated with a situation at work and I took note. I don’t recall the last time I was that frustrated with someone. Perhaps as far back as M? That feels so long ago. Time. In a couple days it will be two years since L and I became friends. I don’t know what to make of that situation. T and I were talking a little while ago about the people that you like that get a pass, that you care about them in such a fashion that rules and expectations that would apply to other relationships just don’t. It isn’t that you decide it is worth it not to, it is that a stop in your decision making is skipped by the express train to… literately (yes, literately) speaking, a tunnel.

It has been time to be outdoors lately. I can feel spring. It isn’t here, but I can sense it. I’m starting to admit my need for sunlight. I think I need to take more vacation than I normally do, probably more than I get. As I biked home from a volunteer meeting on Capitol Hill, I listened to Rancid on the spare ipod. This reminded me of a time I was feeling out of place at my grandparents house for my singleness and perhaps my lack of social connections. I went for a long walk, hours I suppose, long enough for the family to start to worry about where I was. Perhaps a call for attention? Hrmf. It was a long time ago.

http://www.nataliedee.com

I talked to J extensively today about what triggers calling someone “kid,” as well as when I would describe someone as a girl versus a woman. In general, light-hearted girls seemed to get called kid. It’s a term of endearment for people I have fun being silly with. Most of the guys I hang out with aren’t that silly. They’re building something. Seriously. Or sometimes just drinking. Seriously. Actually, I don’t have time right now to spend another hour writing about something I just spent an hour talking about. I do want to jot something down though. While discussing this, we touched on the value systems on my friends and cohorts; they tend to be close to mine. However, there is a line across which there are my friends that I might describe as colleagues. These are the friends that create, perform, and do things I think are interesting and worthwhile. I don’t know that these intersect all that often.

Therein lies the catch. When I tend to meet a girl I like, it is usually because I have made a slew of judgments about what is generally important to them, and find the results agreeable. Thereafter, what do they care about? What are they excited about? Are they going to try to convince me to go camping, hiking, or on a road trip? Even better, what of something where I’m truly along for the ride? So very rare to not get to be the ‘kid’.

Also, women go to dinner parties.

One of my cousins came out as a lesbian recently. She has never been all that humble. Everyone is trying to figure out what that means for her children. I gave my aunt a little advice based on the trials of my childhood, but they were unique circumstances.

I’ve always thought about what my father must have been like when he was younger, happy and alive. Sort of like the father in field of dreams. Lately I’ve been thinking about my mother and her sisters, and all they’ve been through. Life is so long. I talked to an old friend from middle school recently who has moved back home. She said being around the school has really reconnected her to those times.

I’ve been dirt biking this weekend. It’s been fun. If I wasn’t at my mom’s house right now posting from my phone I would say more.

I took inventory of my dating history recently, recapping how each relation has changed me. I continue to think a lot about the perfect relationships where I just wasn’t happy and the failed ones where I was. I seems hopeless, but I don’t feel that way. I just go on living.

I hid under my comforters in pajama pants and an extra large hoodie, talking to my mom on the phone about today’s doctor visit, love, and my earlier call with dad. There is a strange state of aloneness that I am accustom to when it comes to my father. Mom said his situation makes her sad. She knew him when he was more alive. I barely did, wide eyed and full of innocence. I like to think I didn’t lose that innocence, I just gained some wisdom to keep it straight.

Despite it being ten o’clock, I went out to the shop to work on the dirt bike. Something still wasn’t right with the kick-start kit that L and I had installed a couple months ago. Over the weekend I had pulled the crankcase cover again and fiddled with it until I was pretty sure I understood what was going on. By the end of the day, I was ready to reassemble the engine but lacked oil. I got some, but ended up watching movies with the girls instead of going back out later. Tonight, I got it all back together. I had also rebuilt the carb again. I’m glad, the float valve was really cocked up and needed to be replaced rather than cleaned. It took a while to get the engine to stay running, and then a while longer to get the idle set screw on the throttle thumbed down. I put about twenty-five cold miles on the bike though, wandering around the area. It took a while to get used to the lack of power and the squirrely tires. The BMW has really spoiled me.

It’s nice to have it running again. It’s nice to ride around on a clear night to the city lights. Once again, I looked off in disbelief as to how I got here. I wonder, if I ever have children, if I’ll get used to this feeling by then.

Current theme song: Talking Heads – Once in a Lifetime

Current theme song: Desperado (as covered by Johnny Cash)

I scour M’s blog for something I read last night to quote for context.

I’m glad you’re alive. I love you and I want you to keep your head above water, but I don’t miss you any more. Not like I used to.

I had a physical today. It’s been about four years. I felt accomplished, like this was some significant bucket-list quality feat. The doctor mostly told to me work on my hygiene. This came as no surprise, I led him down that road anyway. I know what my problems are, and I’m getting around to them. Doctors always tell me my neurology is fine, but that I really should go to a dentist again. There’s a bucket-list item. Anyway, my past physical trauma is, as they say, unimpressive. That’s good.

He was glad that I see a counselor regularly, although I felt like he expressed as much in concern for my stress level. Of course, I go to therapy because I’m twenty-eight and I feel like the quantity of people I date isn’t going to change the reality that I’ve only really liked a couple people in my life and it wasn’t reciprocal. Not that I’m trying to get anywhere in particular, but my biological imperative isn’t happy about waking up alone every morning.

I heart still skips a beat when I run across L on the internet. It’s my little secret, because there isn’t anything to do about it.

I was thinking over some chili at SP tonight about how writing a special girl, or even a girl I’d like to be special, is a unique release for me. It’s the closet I come to not being alone, when I am, in fact, physically alone. Writing L is usually sending my thoughts into a void, and I wonder at times if it is because I never hear back from her, or because I slaughter my thoughts with censorship whenever I interact with her.