Jett (jatg) wrote,

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Had my sculpting class today and I feel bad that I didn't feel all mentally there for it. I had a rather late night (couldn't sleep. I HATE these periods of anxious insomnia,) Still, got a lot done on my guy though I don't think he's going to be all done by next week. Few are. I have learned a lot and I didn't take the class to get a finished piece but at the same time it's frustrating.

Actually one of the highlights was my phone ringing right at the end of class. It took me a minute to figure out who was talking to me but it HAS been a while since I've heard his Kiwi voice. grofwas passing through the states on his way to Switzerland and while in Seattle gave me a call. It was a good chat. I didn't realize how much I had missed talking and bantering with him.

He tells me places he has traveled, I tell him some of the things I am up to. He asks me about my cat, I ask him about the HIT lab. It is good to be in contact again. The first time we hung out (which I thought was going to be a date but then he brought a friend,) I found out we had the exact same birthday except for a 6 year difference. June 27th. Must be fate. We're supposed to be friends at least. Kewl.

Debated posting this but I remember comments about never apologizing for how one feels:

Onward HO!
I am anxious about a great many things but I can not help but feel like I am on the cusp of my next Great Adventure. I am working on several projects, ramping up my portfolio, making plans for other projects and feeling like I am getting in contact with the world again. Where will I be in a year? Where will I be in 6 months?
Of course, I have been accused of running from place to place instead of dealing with where I am. Frankly, I think that's bull. I've been dealing with a lot of issues and some I have resolved but that doesn't mean I need to happily settle down and work at a theater and stay in Utah the rest of my life.

Really since my birthday I feel like I have been changing, evoloving, transforming more into myself. It's felt very strange. I think of my sculpting class. I am not becoming a different person...the core stuff is there. I am always me and there will be things I will always know, things I will always love, people I will always adore. Maybe I am just coming out to a higher polish. The details are appearing.

Then there are times when I just want to lie on my futon with my cat curled up to my chest and sleep forever. I have a day off and want to sleep half of it away. What is UP with that? I am happiest when I am busy! Why is it when I have a day to work on what I want to work on, I wind up stalling?!

Why is it that sometimes I feel like I am my own worst enemy?

I was talking to someone the other night and she made a few very pointed accusatory comments in regards to decisions I have made about my life. Some were spot on...others just cheezed me off. I don't think anyone who has ever known me would think that I hide behind my drawing, that I half live my life, setting myself up for aches of regret and loss years down the road. (Disclaimer: Those were not her exact words, but they were what I heard.)
One of the most consistent things I have ever heard people say about me is that I am always true to myself.

Something xenologue wrote about me once upon a time in my journal:Jeanette is brave.

I think about bravery and courage and I don't think it means the absense of fear. I think it means doing what is right despite the fear. I think that I should have said that. Because I choose not to do something, not to pursue something, I think that makes me more brave. Sometimes it is scarier NOT to do something.

Am I scared of life? I think like everyone else there are times and situations that yes, I am. I think about a story I heard once...of a person sitting in a dark horrible dungeon, cold, wet and filled with screams and horrors.
One day she looks up to notice the door is open. She can walk out at anytime. And yet she hesitates because what if out there is even WORSE. At least she KNOWS the dungeon.

You have to hit the point where you are sick of your personal dungeons and even though it's scary because you don't know what is out there, you are tired of sitting in the dark and the cold.

I am not scared of people...except those that I love.
Why is that? I lightly brought up the fishing trip to my dad the other day. I wanted to keep it light and yet let him know how hurt I was. LMA had told me previously that Dad was concerned that feelings might be hurt...that there were possiblities of a Girls Trip the next year...which comforted me a little bit. At least he was aware that there might be some bruising.

"So, Dad," I said lightly, "When do I get to go fishing with you?"

He seemed a little startled at first and said, "I don't know..." and it seemed like we might almost have a real conversation but then the walls came up and the light deflection started. "Who says you don't get to go fishing?"

"Um, because there are only four slots and all I heard was you, Mark, Brent and Lawrence."


"I was rather a lot hurt, Dad."

He laughed, I hoped a bit uncomfortably, "Why do you get to be hurt?"

That made me mad. How dare he tell me what I am allowed to feel?

"Oh, I don't know!" I said frustrated with the sarcasm sounding through, "Maybe that all the boys get to go fishing in Alaska and I don't. Gee whiz, it's a mystery."

I left shortly after that. Fine. I thought. I don't want to spend any quality time with you anyway.

But that was a lie.

Saturday I brought one of my coworkers with me to Farmington. He is interested in the motorcycle I bought and wanted to take it for another spin. I thought that sounded like fun, there aren't too many nice days left. Plus, it's such a cool bike and like skydiving, was furious with myself for having wanted something for so long and then found myself terrified.

I was angry at myself that I was terrified of something everyone else had really enjoyed...and it was something *I* had spearheaded and rightly or no, I felt like had been stolen from me.

My friend knew all of that and after he had taken it for a spin and admired it again (apparently I made a REEEAALLY good choice in picking a user friendly bike,) he told me he thought it was a real shame that I had wanted this bike for so long and hadn't really ridden it and so he was going to help me get comfortable on it.

My anger and frustration at myself had reached a big enough point, plus I was confident enough in my friends abilities to talk me through it so fear be damned, I was going to get comfortable on that bike. I thought of all my dad's snarky comments and his one or two kind ones (apparently he had to be rescued once from a motorcycle mishap by his dad,) and thought I'd show him! More than that though, I'd show ME.

We went out to west Farmington where there are a lot of long country roads and not much traffic. I was incredibly nervous at first, having been scared to death the second time I rode it but he was really positive and thorough in helping me get comfortable.
Less than two hours later I was cruising along having the time of my life and my friend I think was delighted. Not as much as I was though. Dang it all, it was COOL!!!!

I had an unexpected thought though. What my friend was doing with me, telling me things to be aware of, giving me advice and radiating confidence in me to do this thing I was nervous of... wasn't this something my dad should be doing?

Is it wrong to expect a fish to fly though?
One can hope, but eventually you have to recognize that a fish is a fish.

If I have a business question or something that needs to be fixed, if my dad needs a board held, concrete to be mixed, roofs need to be capped, then we are a good pair.

As I said before, I don't care what people think of me. I never really have. I'm not afraid of anybody either except those that I love.

Right now I'm finding that a little tragic.

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