Cyber Vacuum Time Warp

Lately I’ve been meaning and planning and intending to write in this, but it just hasn’t seemed to happen.  Sorry to my one loyal reader, ms. thompson. (lol, there’s your weekly shout-out.)  Part of it is that if I happen to get the idea/motivation to write something at a time that isn’t convenient to actually sit and write it down, I tend to lose the will to write it by the time I do get a chance to.  The other reason is something I can’t explain as clearly because I just can’t put my finger on it, but it has to do with my desire to avoid thinking about subjects that bother me when I don’t have to... it’s this catch-22 where the only way to end the incessant pestering of a subject is to write it down, think it out.. but the more something truly worries me, the less I am willing to actively allow myself to think about it. Hence, a cycle of repression develops.

I guess there’s a third reason, which is also possibly the reason that my last two entries have been submitted via my iphone instead of the regular web... it’s my feeling as of late that the computer is something toxic that must avoid being turned on as much as possible.  For days I evade tasks like responding to emails or facebook messages, looking things up online - it’s a list of tasks I can’t even name all of at will --- and this crazy avoidance behavior is affirmed by nights like tonight, when I finally did allow myself full access of the computer: I sat in front of the TV watching things I had absolutely no interest in at all and therefore were completely unsatisfying, talking online and surfing the web and responding to messages for about 8 hours.  I’m sitting here adding it up, thinking, eight hours??  No way that’s possible... but the computer for me, much of the time, acts as a scary cyber drain that sucks in all my energy, my time, my life force until I realize I have wasted away in front of it all evening.  Did I catch up with friends?  Yes.  Did I have some nice conversations?  Yes.  Did I work on things I needed to work on?  Actually, I did a bit.  Sounds decently productive, then.. even somewhat justified.. right?  But staring at a computer screen for hours on end makes me feel like absolute crap in a way that having those conversations with friends in person, on the phone, or even through text messaging would never in a million years make me feel.  If anyone has some insight on this issue, let me know what you think.  All I know is that the further I get from being sucked into this technological warp, the better things feel.  So I am learning to avoid it more and more.  But if that results in more of a disconnect from my friends, well, that’s a sad thing.

I will add that writing this blog, actually, never makes me feel crappy, only better.  When I write my stream of consciousness in word documents I somehow forget about the ability to surf the web and multitask and instead lose myself in my thoughts.  A creative outlet is never a negative thing.


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10:45 AM EDIT:

This morning as I wake up, I have two add-ons to last night’s entry:

The first is that I think the reason I love Twitter so much is that it allows me to still feel connected to my friends and still feel like I’m getting my thoughts out of my head and into the world.. all with very little time or effort and without ever turning on my computer.  And that feels good, and easy, and not as annoying/time-consuming/brain-sucking as Facebook feels now that I’m no longer in college.

The second is that I get ridiculous amounts of anxiety just about every time I check my email (even from my iphone, which I do all the time). I’m not really sure why though... I don’t know what I’m so afraid of finding. 

PS, If I do have more than one loyal reader, thanks! ;)

Monsters of the Morning

Sweet, sweet 5:30 am. You might say this is when the true side of somebody comes out.. but I'm pretty sure that's just not true. What comes out isn't your true self but something more straight out of Where the Wild Things Are: a childish, grumpy, grumbly hairy creature. Such is the case for me and my family right now. Add in a touch of neurotic, just to spice it up: dad tells us all to get in the car about 50 times before anyone actually does, mom frantically makes us get out our licenses just to double check we have a photo ID, then dad gets in the car and unknowingly makes us nuts by asking us to do this yet again... the ride to the airport filled with constant "did you remember to pack this," even though it's too late to go back anyway so it doesn't really make a difference if you packed it or not. Everyone is significantly more snippy and on edge than usual and showing sides of themselves you don't often get to see. This reminds me of a very early flight back from a trip to Miami I took with my friends and brand new roommates a couple of years ago, when the roommate we'd really just met not long before a bit frighteningly declared, "Do not talk to me until I have my coffee," and boy, she really meant it.. and she didn't get a chance to have said coffee until we were all checked in. Later this became something we all joked about, but lack of sleep and caffeine don't always bring out the best in people. So why on earth am I writing this right now, you ask? I'm certainly groggy and grumpy just like the rest of em, but if there's one thing college has prepared me for, it's being up writing things while severely sleep deprived.
Colorado here we come...


- Posted from my iPhone

Filling in the empty spaces

“And I still haven’t found what I’m looking for...”

I try to find it everywhere, every time I’m alone.  I just don’t know what it is....

  Lately I’ve turned to food, with late-at-night eating, stress eating, boredom eating being my problem currently in the forefront.  I’ve had a hard time diagnosing my natural sweet tooth as truly being a case of stress eating, until this weekend when I and my other half were stressfully searching a succession of city stores in search of ridiculous, un-find-able things like punch bowls and gingerbread men and guava juice concentrate, and I found my gaze focusing in on the Sour Patch Kids and felt strongly compelled to buy & eat these in a way that I knew would directly fix my comfort with the situation. (Thankfully, in realizing this, I didn’t buy them.)

  It used to be alcohol, but now somehow that doesn’t pleasure me the way it once did - a bit unhealthily.  I used to be able to forget my desires for desserts with the promise of alcohol that night.. of practically any kind... Ah, to be underage and have this off-limits substance be one of the more exciting things I could get my hands on.... My mom easily turns down prospects of dessert for her nightly glass(es) of chardonnay instead.. but wine just doesn’t turn me on that way. (If anything, it gives me reflux.)  My parents say if my brother has inherited my grandfather’s temper, then I have inherited my grandmother’s endless sweet tooth (oh joy).

  Even my writing is my (more productive) way of trying to.... fill in the gaps in between life.. to combat the boredom of daily working.. or perhaps to fill in for the lack of the other incredibly comforting human body that’s sorrowfully missing from my bed during the weeknights.. hard to say.  

When I first fell in love as hard as I did more than two years ago, it was so hard that I couldn’t focus on anything, and I couldn’t stand to ever be without her.. it was to the point where I actually couldn’t bear to be alone.  I thought, though, that since then I’ve really overcome that. Faced all the issues that were underlying my perhaps over-dependency... Is it really the case that I can’t be alone now, again?  I don’t really think so..... But “something’s missing, and I don’t know how to fix it,” I guess you could say, (if you were John Mayer).. and I really don’t know what I’m looking for right now... Maybe I will stop comfort eating whenever the heck I figure it out.