analysis paralysis.

why do i feel more capable of running other people's lives better than my own?
what the hell is my problem?

i am a clever girl. a witty girl. a hard workin' girl. a girl who can problem solve, multi-task, knows recipes by heart. a girl who did kumon. has the skill to de-seed a pomegranate in seconds - without mess. i understand the difference between too tight and just right. i can be self deprecating - or charming - or confident - or invisible - or whatever you need. i have the power to make the unsocial social. i can shower, do hair/makeup, and be out the door in 15 minutes. i can put together the perfect anthropological outfit for you. i know how to haggle with the rickshaw wallah. i am your desert island first choice. if you let me, i will work it all out for you.

key word. you.

how is it humanly possible for someone so sure (and vocal) about making other people's life decisions, SO INEPT when it comes to her own? HOW is it that i am so indecisive?

It's 2 for 1...Do I get 2? Do I NEED 2?? Is this a trick so that I spend more? If I got 2, I could save the other for next month...but then i need to buy more ingredients. Or should I save the money...or should I not get this brand....hmmmm...no sugar..but it does have ascorbic acid....

truthfully, my minutia mania has almost completely come to an end. i had to learn to get over myself. now i just buy two. screw it. over time i became angered- watching how my enjoyable toiletry isle browse was being ruined by my outrageousness. i was tired of clouding the delightfully delicate choice between cellulite obliterating lotion and sweet pea body wash.

however, one huge victory is never without a gigantic loss. instead of the small, i have become obsessively fixated on the massively meaningful - that whichisaffectingtheoutcomeofmylife - decisions. adult decisions. long term care and folic acid decisions. somehow the older i get, the deeper my thoughts piggyback on what carries the most weight. i have become a junkie to what oozes the highest proof of dramatic flair. am i addicted to the adrenaline rush of losing my mind? is my plight to be a drama whore? am i just a moron?


no. i am apparently just a victim of analysis paralysis.

analysis paralysis looks a bit like one supersized order of deflated hopelessness (add a side of extra sarcasm), sprinkled with an aversion to light, and a big gulp. no eating. no focus. no sleeping. no doing...just existing in a hamster wheel of fun.

when it comes to analysis paralysis, i am the crappiest type. i am out of control. judge judy would label me an Outrageous Person. she speaks truth, and i can prove it. number one, i myself can't stand people like myself. i hate indecisive people. ambivalence is a waste of life- it drives me insane. number two, i choose to not choose help. i don't want help with my indecision. i hate appearing to others as if i've lost my mind (huge surprise i know). i detest my ego for having so much control over my inability to share myself with you. i am bitter at the fact i have turned into this wavering woman...who may undoubtedly one day collect all two-for-one specials but no real ingredients. i will come to rely on the private life, solitude, and colossal landslide of funk which has a nice weight and keeps me warm at night.

what kind of person is addicted to the battle of internal struggle? how do we exist using this outrageous approach?

one sleepless night at 3am - with one hand surrendered to an empty bag of sea salt and vinegar kettle chips - and the other surfing the internet for the purpose of my superficial existence - i found my answer.

wiki.answers.com

behold. the mother ship. it was at this moment, my brain haze momentarily dissipated and a deep love blossomed. gazing at my computer screen like it just offered me a lifetime supply of marc jacobs. never before had the internet's true ability been so clear. i had entered unto the mecca of my people. some little decision warriors, and others with a heavy heart the weight of a whale. people who are desperate for resolution, but stress with execution. there was no reason to be embarrassed, there are are all types. people who are self-conscious. people who don't give a shit. those who are silly, those who are serious, those who can't sleep. wannabe foodies embarrassed to ask if the french eat french onion soup in france, 13 year old girls trying to decide if an when to lose their virginity. anime enthusiasts being enthusiastic about...anime. a fascinating community who prefers to enter their questions into an online data base, rather than talk to their best friend, or mother, or teacher...sounds like perfection. i let it simmer and surfed for a couple more hours.

after my initial awe wore off, i was left with an unsettling feeling. is this what technology has given us? the ability to lose our connection with each other? no need to research? not have to study for the test - or ask a doctor- or do the hard work to reap the rewards? if i fear my son has arthritis, should i be asking a website where other loserfaces (like myself) are awake at 3am? it terrified me to think i had lost my connection with the things i valued most. i began feeling i wasn't cut out for wiki.answers. i became certain of it when i found myself beginning a response post to the 13 year old who wanted to know if she should lose her virginity. after first telling her to go to sleep, and then providing her with my personal phone number so we could 'talk things out',i realized i had hit the boundary wall my therapist and i worked so hard to establish. maybe not. i deleted, signed off, and went to bed. i am not going to be that weirdo. i am not i am not.

for me, what wiki.answers represents is far scarier than myself or any indecision i may feel. and that is something i will be working out with myself. but it won't be with "How much does it cost for your dog to get an abortion?" guy. no thanks.

it's time to go make some decisions.

other decisions may take time. wearing this khat was not one of them.

love.

and they said it wasn't possible.

daddy and his art.

photo cred: mom

orgullosa

so here's a big news flash, my mom and dad are divorced:) and have been for some time.

like everything in life, growing up with divorced parents has its good parts and not so good parts.

good parts.

* at 17 you can get out of any speeding ticket - claiming you are rushing off for dad time.
* you belong to the elite my parents are divorced, so on some level, i am a closeted control freak club.
* you are intensely aware. of everyone's needs.

not so good parts.

*people were missed.
*a lot.

internally, i have worked out the not so good...the un-cohesiveness of it all. allowing myself to be comfortable with my experience. knowing that its all OK. not defining. not comparing myself to others (pointless comparisons are...pointless). im passed all of it. enough. im proud to say i can see the good - the good and the murky. and it is just that, murky goodness with lots of layers in between. my family. oh how i love and enjoy them.

lately i have enjoyed watching my parents' current relationship from afar. life after the kids are way gone. she's a petite lady from hawaii. he's a tall jew from pennsylvania. and after 28 years, they still live within a 7 mile radius of each other in hendersonville, tn. separate lives, surrounded by the wal-mart, taco bell, ford car dealerships and jesus.

my parents are two of the most similar - and at the same time - completely different people i have ever met. it is painfully confusing. simply looking at them, one would never imagine they lived in the same neighborhood, let alone hung out long enough to get married and have children. both share the same love for music, art, humor, food, and health. they desire the same things out of life. however, they are the perfect example of how sometimes people must travel totally opposite paths in order to reach their similar destinations.

individually, mom and dad have always enjoyed photography - and are both very talented at it.

for a while now, dad has made a big push towards exploring his talent as a photographer- he has done a lot to cultivate and develop his art. recently, he had the opportunity to show his photography in Nashville with other local artists. its an incredible feeling to know anyone (let alone a parent) is getting the recognition they deserve. like pumpkin pie, its heartwarming goodness. the kids were excited for daddy-o. the morning of, i spoke with him on the phone. he let me know all the pics were printed and hung, and of course criticized this and that...made sure i knew he was learning a lot by just seeing the set up of the more experienced. he told me he was all prepared and ready for the people. dad was sweetly nervous and charged. i was sad i couldn't have been there.

an hour or so after i spoke to dad. mom called...

Hey mom.

Heeeeeeey. What are you doing?

Getting ready for work. You?

Im driving to see your dad's showing.

Really? You're.....going?

Um, YES I'm GOING! I have known your father for a looong tiiimmme dear. I am the MOTHER of this chILdren...I can GO to his SHOW.

Wow...great! Well...can you take a picture of it for me? I want to see it!

Yeah, I'll call you - so you can talk to him.

No mom, im not in India - i just spoke with him. Just take a picture with your phone and send it to me, so I see how everything looks.

OoooKaY! I'm parked. Gotta go. LOVE YOU, BYE!

Bye mom!


30 minutes later i received an email of my picture. subject: your dad.
i became confused.


yep, ok, there's daddy. thanks.

Really Mom?? WHERE are the displayed photos? He's sitting drinking coffee - watching the TITANS game on his macbook?! Like, this couldn't have been any other day - you couldn't have taken ANY other photos to send me besides Dad sitting down, watching football?!

Weeellllll, this is what your father was doing - no one had arrived yet. You wanted a picture.

Good. Thanks Mom.

so special. my mother using her iPhone to capture, yet another important moment.........

i didn't realize how special this picture actually was until max and i received an email with an attached photo from dad the following day.

subject: at the show

Your mother came to see the show. It was very sweet of her to do that and I really appreciated it. She was so funny, trying to get her iPhone to take a pic. I finally handed her my camera...she's the one who took that pic for Facebook. Hope you guys are all good. It was great talking to the both of you yesterday. Thanks for your wonderful support. It helps more than you can know.

Daddy-o

AA

at least they both are on the same page.

murky goodness = similar ridiculousness.

:)

me gusta.

indexed does it again.

secret friends.

brief realization.

i notice and relish the details of people. if i have ever watched you in person from afar, you should know i commit to memory your details. you are my secret friend. i think i am addicted. in fact, i know i am.

secret friend loves of my past include: pickup truck drivin' good ol boys who wore confederate flag t-shirts and had a bumper sticker reading Lee Surrendered, I Didn't; too serious sweaty dancers named salsa fight guy dressed in black, scarves and eyeliner; dirty seattle bike messenger lesbians and their amazing muscle legs; a yellow sweater vespa riding italian man on spanish holiday in search of someone to help them practice english; a scientist who believes hobby degrees (ie women studies) are a waste of time and anything which can't be scientifically proven doesn't exist; a sorority girl who was supremely happy to invite me to her King Tut And The Egyptian Sluts costume frat party; and a woman who not only wore the color peach every day, but also decorated her entire house in the same shade, after a sales girl in florida told her it was a nice color on her - 20 years prior. oh to be there, to have witnessed more. i could have spent years being perfectly content...listening. watching. waiting for everything to play out. i would have given up all my long underwear for more time. and if you know me - that's serious talk.

these secret friend impressions make my life. get me through the day, through the years. obviously yes i am more in love with them then they are with me, and that's fine and expected - half the time they don't know i exist (and frankly im not even going to try to compete with a King Tut and Egyptian Slut party). so there. though most of these encounters have never blossomed into full friendships, or they are intensely short lived, my heart lights up all the same. whether my attention was first attracted by their accent, smirk, story about their mother, dark comment, sigh, crows feet, or the way the warm their hands in front of the car heating vents as they drive. i love my secret friends and their truth.

for me, that's the ultimate deal maker. their sparks of truth. any truth- whatever it may be for just that moment. the glimpse doesn't need to be constant and ever present, doesn't even need to be on purpose. i don't have to like, or agree with it - for me its courageously beautiful and fascinating all the same. i am not saying i want to sit in a circle with you and listen as people divulge into the slough of life, as we cry, do trust falls and make lists of our shit. no. i can't handle that. i want the subtle, the unrehearsed and organic. i don't like parts that float to the top. i want the murky stuff that sinks to the bottom and and gets stirred up.

so yes, i am addicted to the murk. it's what i crave and actively seek out. little crumbs leading to some part of a back story. the why. why do they (and we) do the incredible things they (we) do. i find it fascinating...the truth of it all. maybe i obsess since i struggle with my own honest expression. my own murk.

brief (and not so brief) examples.

the other night i took the 73 bus back from work. i sat close to two younger gentleman both wearing long black trench coats, unkept patchy beards, and australian adventure hats. one brown one black. they were good pals, sitting next to each other, discussing a shared story from time spent in some alternate universe i wasn't familiar with. some location where they enjoy zorb. i couldn't decipher if zorb was a reference to their leader, or an activity. [got home and realized it is quite the activity]. anyway, black hat with glasses finally says to brown hat with red bow-tie, Hey, so i have finished that last chapter for my novel. You wanna hear?. brown hat replies, sure, and i become nervously addicted. From the inside of his trench coat, the author pulls out a small pocket size journal - covered in bright blue oriental fabric speckled with pink cherry tree blossoms. Where shall i begin?? oh yes...he smiles at himself and embarks. his voice and cadence swell into an homage for voice over guy from the Days of our Lives. firm and reassuring, wise and whimsical, but with some bitterness thrown in.

"Those of you present for the feeding, i have a hidden gift for you. As planet Delpheriax selflessly provides our nourishment, I implore you to do the same for others. I pray you not to harm 3XY and his clan. Instead, leave them be. I shall escort them to the galaxy beyond the 3rd sun. Yes they have destroyed our earth clones, but what happened to compassion? Have we not learned from the crusades of Borthum and Bob?! The decision is my gift to you. Take it with substance, the healing shall begin..."

i couldn't decide which i was more in awe of...the fact that brown hat writes his novel in small $3 asian inspired fabric bound journals, or that he decided to read his prose allowed on the bus during 6 o'clock traffic - all while two seats down juanita chastised rico on her cell (something la ultima vez, puto!). She was very very angry. he was very very proud. it was like 3secondheat, i just couldn't get enough.

a more endearing example occurred last month while my mom and i visited my brother max at berkeley.

we had the fortunate pleasure of being in san fransisco the night of halloween. after sitting through a power surge of rock lobster sung by salvador dali dressed as a spanish bullfighter, we made our way back to el cerrito. if you ever have the opportunity to take the Bart at 2am, waiting patiently amongst hundreds of others, on halloween, in san fransisco - you should pack a lunch and go. pure inspiration.

after finally making our connecting train, i managed to score a seat next to Fred Flintstone. a 350 lb Cartman (who could have been identified from space) stood in front of the car, taking up the majority of the room. Bike Man stood next to him with the six remaining members of the Double-Wide Bandit Crew, and Pizzazz with her jealous girlfriend sat along the side. There was a gang of Zombie Slut Bridesmaids behind me, and a pissy Lady Gaga dressed in a belly button plunging black bathing suit, fishnets, stilettos, bedazzled ray-bans, and blond bangs. At some point, a young man in the front spotted his lost friend in the back of the car, and with dripping elation and a huge smile to match screamed out, JULIUS! JULIUS YOU MOTHERFUCKER!!! LOOK AT YOU BITCH!! I FUCKING FOUND YOU!!! HAHA! I THOUGHT I FUCKING LOST YOU BITCH!! FUCK! DAN, LOOK! ITS JULIUS!! I FUCKING FOUND YOU MAN! I FUCKING LOVE YOU!

i never did see julius, but it was worth the price of the ticket, just to see such friendship among men.

with all the amazing-ness abuzzing around me, i proudly sat next to fred flintstone, inhaling everything, being thankful - secretly wishing the train would break down at that moment - and i would be kept inside its' custom-made time capsule f.o.r.e.v.e.r.

to my surprise, Fred turned to me, smiled, and said, I should go home, and change out of this. I have to have brunch with my mom this afternoon. Fred was a young kid, sophomore at berkeley. skinny to the point of not really filling out his red/one shoulder strap/no shirt/cave man costume (but an excellent attempt non-the-less). sweet disposition. he reminded me of one of the guys in college that was a reliable, gentle soul. i said, Oh honey, im sure your mom would still love to have brunch with you - even if you showed up in that. he gave me a yeah i know goofy grin, and i went back to listening to 'Julius's friend' realize he had just found Julius all....over...again.

a minute passed.

Can I ask you something? (Fred now wanted my full attention)

Sure! (intrigued - i turned to face him)

So, i like this girl...

[at this very moment, i had to take a deep breath to stop myself from screaming at the top of my lungs, THANK YOU! THANK YOU GOD! THANK YOU!!]

...mHHHHmm...

...Yeah so this girl, she is just so amazing and funny - and BEAUTIFUL, so beautiful... and so we have been talking for a while, and finally last night we were alone together and i kissed her, and i was so nervous - but it was amazing...so now i was so excited to go out tonight, because we made plans - us and our friends - to all hang out tonight right? but tonight we were all together and i was talking to her girl friends and they told me she really isn't wanting a relationship right now...and so now i am so confused and i don't know what to do... i just think she is amazing and we kissed... i mean, she wouldn't have kissed me if she wasn't in to me! so i don't know what to do?! she is just so beautiful and we have so much fun together! should i just stop talking to her? should i text her and ask her how she feels about me????

[by this point in his confession, the two men seated directly in front of us had perked up and were listening in on Fred's love life. they sat with their heads leaning back, holding hands and grinning. i took a second before i gave my response.]

You know (Fred), this is what I think you should do. You should call her up and tell her you would like to meet up for coffee, just to hang out, no big deal. Once you two are there, you talk about normal stuff. once you both are relaxed you just ask her how she feels about you - if her feelings are mutual. No pressure, no weirdness, just asking sweetly for an honest answer--

--Wait, so i shouldn't text her first? What about her friends?

You know, Im sure her friends mean well, but I'm sure you can appreciate this just being between you and her. It's important to make that connection with that person face to face, not through phone or email or friends- but just real people talking. Know what I mean?

Yeah, that makes sense...I'll should do it face to face.

(and then my heart kicked in)

Oh, and one more thing (Fred). So, when you tell her how you really feel - and if she dodges the question, or is mean to you, or doesn't give you a real answer?? Well, then she isn't worth it. Remember that OK? You are a sweet guy being very mindful of her feelings, putting yourself out there - and you deserve the same respect, OK?

(Smiling) Yeah, YEAH...you are right. Thank you so much! Thank You!

the gay couple in front smiled and nodded, as to say - 'good job'. i sat in awe of my sweet life.

fred's stop came up. he, and everyone else, departed.

secret friend success.

twenty eightish

i have turned 28.

we will say it again - i have lived beyond my 27th year- i am now 28.

two from 30, twelve from 40, ten from 18.

now begins the point where i can mentor those who are younger. instead of answering their questions directly, i will begin recounting stories of my 'youth' in which i learned important life lessons: stories of high school drama, working as a telemarketer selling country music collection dvds, my sense of independence shaped by Waffle House and vain pointless conversation. these distant momories will be just as helpful as aesop's fables, but instead of the crow and some cheese- mine would include a football player and my self-respect. with these pearls i will illustrate how i too pretended to be apathetic to the world, because i was 18. i too simply went through the motions (and emotions), reveling in my mediocrity... i too pretended like it all began with acceptance from. just. that. person... i too sought my truth, which shone brightly in awkward displays for attention. wait, this is starting to sound more like 28.

never mind.

OK, this is what i know for sure:

grilled cheese is next to godliness.

here's to another year.