Sunday, September 23, 2007

I just can't look...

Facing reality is like seeing a 90 year old woman pretending to be Marilyn standing over the sidewalk grate as the subway goes by; you wish you had been looking the other way.

I've noticed something as we get closer and closer to the send-off date and it leaves an unpleasant taste in my mouth. I've hardly gotten the opportunity to spend time with the people I love and I'm fully aware that this may be the last time I see some of them for a very long time, and yet I have the same problem with all of them:

I can't really look them in the eye.

Why is that? I find myself looking in a non-direction most of my recent waking hours, even when talking with customers at work. I wonder if it comes off as rude or weak or whatever, like I'm too self-absorbed or wrapped up in my own pathetic woes that I can't focus on any one person. When I do look someone in the eye, it's very brief and uncomfortable for me.

Is it that I don't want to face the reality of leaving, like witnessing Grandma Marilyn's dress floating around her nose?

Am I a subversive snob just now coming to the forefront because I have "authorit-ay" over people in my new job? There's a dreadful thought.

Is it that I know I'll miss some people so painfully much that I simply can't stomach meeting their gaze because I'll burst into tears and blubber like a baby whale?

I'm betting the last one is pretty accurate (because who wants to admit she might be a snob?!)

Here's another thing I've noticed as we roll on toward the Alaskan cliff. I've gotten real tired of people asking me if I'm excited about going to Alaska. It's gotten to the point that no, I'm no longer excited. This new job sucks up so much time and energy that all I want is to have the move finished and be settled into my soothing routine rhythm. I want all my stuff to be spread out in my own space in my own special psychotic way.

Logan and I have discovered recently that we have forgotten how to have fun. The things we used to do we can't really justify anymore, so they no longer sound fun (going shopping and just buying stuff to buy stuff, for example). We don't have enough time to do the things we think we'd still enjoy (like camping, hiking, bike riding, etc.) And the traditional stuff that most people do for fun hold no interest for us (going to clubs and bars, partying with alcohol, etc.)

I actually miss the old arcades that were so popular in the '80s. Sure, it's a big waste of money, especially with home video game systems all the rage now. But they always had other interesting things, like prizes you could exchange tickets for, old fashioned candy, the old psychic lady in the booth.

And feeding quarters into a machine made the game all that more precious because you had to make that quarter (or quarters) last as long as you could possibly manage. Air hockey was my particular favorite because if you and your opponent were well matched, one game could last an entire afternoon!

Sigh. What a gripe fest. Maybe I am that self-absorbed snob after all.

Hey, it's my blog and I'll whine if I want to.

I'm going to get some cheese to go with it.

1 comment:

Dark Rapunzel said...

Don't you worry about a thing. Everything is gonna be great. You have a wonderful adventure ahead of you. And we all keep asking about how your move is coming along because we care. I'm a weebit jealous, actually. I love a good adventure. You're going to have the best time up there, I just know it. I already can't wait to come visit you! It may seem like a terrible ordeal and pain in the posterior now, but once you get up there and settled in, you're going to discover new and wonderful things about yourself and your marriage and the Alaskan countryside. Just keep reminding yourself that this is a fun adventure, like moving out to one of the border planets.