Vancouver

I've been away from blogging.

Well, this isn't true. My other blog has been officially pronounced dead, and this one has been subject to lengthy entries that will never be published and will just remind me and only me of how I felt about serious level-10 things during the week after my stressful vacation.

It's been a stressful week. My doctor diagnosed me as "freaking out" and gave me a lovely sleep-aid that seems to have set things a bit straighter. I'm feeling less desperate and less obsessed and less likely to dramatically quit my job and pack my things and volunteer for a science-y boat expedition for which I'd work for free and meet new people and forget everything and realize that life doesn't have to be like this.

She said "Please do not go back to work today. I'm afraid you might quit your job. And please do not be alone for a few days. And hide your credit card. And don't make any big decisions. Please."

That was good advice, because yesterday I was prepared to pack two large suitcases with cameras and outfits and notebooks and leave a note, in pursuit of a log cabin in which I might study for the GRE and Figure. Things. Out. Even though I knew that wasn't what I wanted, I felt like it was the only option.

Because Boston isn't an option, even if someone pays you twice what you make now.

And New York City isn't an option, because you've outgrown it even though its the biggest thing imagineable.

And Boulder isn't an option, because you're not sure you feel about the middle.

And science isn't an option, because when your boss mentions a new project you want to run away and hide because you have so little interest and so little energy and want so badly to be pat on the back and not punched in the face.

I go through this every now and then, and devise schemes involving New Hampshire or floral design or the study of museums. This sort of freak out has been successful four and only four times, and I think its probably happened like 12 times since I was 20 years old.

1. Didn't go to grad school
2. Recorded the mini-album
3. Started the music blog
4. Moved to NYC

What next?

I know I want to be with D, and it scares me that my hormones and/or neurotransmitters can convince me that I don't need him. I know I want to be with him and I want us to be happy, and I know that we can't be happy here forever. Part of me wants us to move somewhere quiet where we can just exist, live slowly, live with substance and not volume. Somewhere where we can sit on a porch and watch kids riding their bikes. Somewhere where days aren't stressful, where employment is simple, where people have conversations under the stars and life feels like vacation.

Can you go to a small town from the big city?

What does he want? What do I want?

I don't know the answer to either of these questions.

I know that I am unsatisfied with the letter of complaint I wrote to the airline. It got really dramatic (surprise!) because I was reminded again of the absurdity of it all and it's one thing after another and it is a saga even in text. Reliving stress is pointless unless they give you the $900 you are demanding.

I know that I want to see 'Superman' tonight.

I know that I want to try the all macaroni-and-cheese restaurant on the Lower East Side.

I know that I want to get up enough motivation to call my NYC friends and see them like I keep saying I will. "I'm not feeling well," I say, as usual, which means "I keep crying for no reason and devising escape plans." I've been introverted. I've been alone. I've been enjoying it because I can't concentrate when I feel like this, and I am terrible company because when I feel like crying I want to cry and not pretend to be happy.

This weekend I want to go see 'Superman,' have mac-n-cheese with J tomorrow night, go to LT's birthday party tomorrow night and hopefully see R because not hanging out with him hasn't been awshummmmm and he's a spazz and causes happiness even when he himself is unhappy, brunch with S on Sunday and hopefully learn how all is hopeless from my eternally beloved Al Gore, and see E who is a masochist and needs advice from someone he doesn't realize is even less healthy. And dinner next week with LL on Monady and T on Tuesday and MF later in the week hopefully but she is nuts too. I will socialize and smile for real and figure things out.

And edit photos, because people keep asking, and there's a lot. Like 100 photos of Stonehenge alone!

Until next week...