all a jumble

I don’t know which way is up right now.

My mind is all a jumble of emotions and I’m having trouble sorting through how I feel about one issue and how those feeling should not leak into how I feel and react to another issue.

I can be melodramatic, I know. But right now I’m tired of crying for the potential loss of my choir, the Master Chorale of Washington. I’m tired of drama among those I love and mad that I allowed myself to be sucked in and, as a consequence, to question things about myself and people I thought I knew.

There is an unintended consequence of getting close to a tight-knit group of people. If a rift occurs among them and you are not a part of the cause, you are left to decide which side you are on. I never thought I’d have to decide and I hope it will never come to that. If called on, loyalty comes with a high price tag.

But right now my heart and head hurt because I’m being forced to acknowledge things about myself that I don’t like to see, that I didn’t think existed and that I thought I’d eradicated from my life. On top of that I’m having to come to terms with the life-changing event of loosing my choir.

So I decided yesterday that when the choir season ends in May I’m going to take a week off and disappear in the woods or some place where I can be alone and silent, cut off from all distractions including adult beverages, music, books (other than some spiritual scriptures), cell phones, email and human interactions. I need to do it so I can re-evaluate things with a clear mind and perhaps reboot my system.

 

old habits and elevators

So my company is renovating the bathrooms on our floor to make them more energy efficient or some such thing. As a result I have to take the elevator up or down one floor to use the facilities.

First of all, it feels silly to be taking an elevator to go up or down one floor partly because it makes me feel lazy. Also, in the amount of time it takes to get an elevator I could have taken the stairs, used the facilities and already be washing my hands. I would take the stairs but the stairs don’t allow you to get onto any floors except the lobby.  I’m guessing that’s for security purposes.

But a more interesting phenomenon has occurred as a result of the need to take a trek.

It seems I am so in the habit of getting into the elevator to either go to the lobby or the 10th floor that when I get into the elevator after using the “facilities,” I find the doors opening to the high-ceiling marble ground floor lobby and I’ll realize that out of habit I hit the “L” button. It’s happened at least five times this week.

I’m guessing that by the time I’ll have created new pathways in my brain to remember to hit the 10th floor button when I’m on the 9th or 11th, the bathrooms on my floor will be open for use again.

Anyway, that’s just another observation I thought I’d share. And here’s another one. Ok, to be honest one of the reason’s I’ve been so bad at writing frequently is that I’ve felt guilty about never updating you on the inauguration. For the sake of us all and because that was nearly a month ago. I’m going to admit that there will probably never be a part II.  My apologies.

 

Inauguration dilemma

To stand with friends or be among the people

Yesterday I  had the bittersweet dilemma of having to choose between hanging out with several of my friends during the inauguration or volunteering on the mall.

One of my West-coast girlfriends recently obtained some tickets for the inauguration and she was going to share one of them with me.  I was so elated that she would share such a gift with me that I started randomly skipping around the room saying “yay” and giggling like a fourth-grade girl for longer than I’d like to admit.

Yet before she learned she had tickets I signed up to volunteer for the inauguration festivities.

I have prior experience as a tour guide around the city and I’m also a volunteer usher/coat check/VIP room receptionist for the Shakespeare Theatre Company, so I figured I could use my experience for the good of the city. Plus I really love interacting with people and helping them find their way around the city. I thrive on it.

Anyway, I received a call yesterday from the guy coordinating one of the teams of volunteers who said I would be working where the ticketed area ends on 4th Street and the public access part of the mall begins. I was extatic until I realized that it also meant I had give up the option of standing next to my friends and sharing hugs with them during the ceremony. Yet I couldn’t give up a lifetime opportunity to be a part of helping the day run smoothly.

Although I felt a little sad that I had to tell my friend (and on such late notice) that I wouldn’t be using that ticket, I was relieved that she graciously accepted my apologies and understood why I wanted to take the volunteer position. I truly  hope she can find someone to use the ticket or else I’ll feel like a bit of a heel.

A house of guests

I am also thrilled to have several of my relatives staying at my place for the inauguration.

Among them are my uncle, and my cousin and his wife, who I have not seen for years, and my cousin’s friend/business partner.  Yay. My relatives are such wonderful people that I know it will be nothing but a pure joy to have them nearby.

Yet I’m a nester, a mother hen.  In that I wish I could have all of my friends who are going to the mall together in one place the night before the inauguration.

But I had to admit yesterday that it was not going to happen and it made me a little sad.  Last night I felt a little like a wounded kitten licking her paws in the corner. I so want to be able to share in the joy of Obama’s inauguration with my friends.  But here is one time that I have to admit, no I cant. 

Sigh.

Ah well, at least I’ll have my phone charged for texting.

 

Nice chicken

There are bad pick up lines and there are worse ones.

I was shopping at a local Latino grocery market where the prices for fresh produce and meat are particularly low because Latinos, statistically compared to many other cultures, cook among the most at home and for large families. In other words, they buy so much produce that those kind of grocery stores are able to buy food at lower prices and pass the savings on to customers.

Anyway, with a grocery cart of potatoes, leeks, carrots, onions, lemons and limes, kale, avocados bananas and plantain I was perusing the meat isle.

I was looking over a stack of “young chickens” wrapped in plastic on yellow Styrofoam plates when I noticed a man had approached and was not looking at the chickens but facing and looking directly at me. I continued to peruse.

“Nice chicken,” he mumbled.

 Unsure if I heard him correctly I said, “excuse me,” and looked up.

He had black rimmed rectangular glasses he was wearing a light blue dress shirt unbuttoned at the top and his skin was smooth and the color of mahogany (I know this sounds cliche but that really is the best way to describe his complexion). He had beautiful dark eyes and on a quick glance I saw his hands were ring less. He smiled.

“These are nice chickens,” he said, a little louder this time, and nodded toward the pile of poultry carcases.

“Yes they are,” I replied, unsure what else I could say and I turned back to face the stack of naked chickens.

I was pretty sure he was trying to say something to start a conversation with me but I was completely thrown off by his pick up line.

 By the time all this had registered and I had decided to try to talk some more I turned my head back in his direction and he had gone back to a grocery cart, never having taken a chicken, and he was turning down the cereal isle.

He glanced my way before turning down the isle and he disappeared.

Unsure what else to do, I also turned and went down the spice and baking supplies isle, also without a chicken in my cart.

 

Fool

I’ve been acting the part of a fool lately.

The problem is that I like human interaction too much.

In fact, I’m pretty sure I get a high from making new friends. Where it gets into dangerous territory is that sometimes I don’t want to lose that feeling.

Sometimes I get the idea of getting to know someone so entrenched in my head that I forget to take it easy and let things progress organically. It’s part of my personality, you see, I am a pursuer of things. It’s my profession.

If, say, I want to get something done, I find every way possible to make it happen. I’m trained to be a hunter (of news) and unfortunately sometimes that leaks into my personal life.

But I had time to think about it this weekend in between choir concerts and spending quality time with my family. And I penciled it all down in tiny two-columned scribble on the back of a photocopied sheet of music.

Unfortunately, I can usually only interpret my scribble up to 48 hours after putting it to paper. So my deep thoughts have been lost to time.

But from what I can recall of my musings, I realized that I keep hunting shadows without letting myself get to know the person(s) making the shadow. Does that make sense to anyone but me?

Therefore my new goal for the new year — and by that I mean starting yesterday — is to take it easy.

If, say, I’ve made a few efforts to hang out with someone who I would like to befriend and it doesn’t work out, I figure it’s up to them to make the next move.

Am I completely off with this idea?