catching up
Aug. 30th, 2010 04:03 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
keryxGosh, I don't know why I feel disconnected from my people (especially my local people, but really all of y'all). It's not like I ever tell anyone what's going on with me or anything. Aside from 255 character summaries of what city I'm in and where I'm eating, that is.
Things happened!
For instance, I was in Chicago on a project for a few months. I used to hate Chicago, but I don't after finding dance classes and various forms of art and entertainment I couldn't find anywhere else. It's unlikely I'd move there, but it's a pretty decent town outside of the winters. It does have spectacular condiments. And fireworks every Wednesday night.
That ended abruptly and with some rejoicing on my part.
In the meantime, a certain someone moved first from Hawai'i to southwest VA and shortly after that in with Willie, My Roommate the Cheese Lady & me. I've been told recently that having your boyfriend move in is a reasonably big deal, and might have merited some sort of announcement. It didn't seem like that huge an event. One weekend he left town when I did, and the next he didn't.
I'm currently working in Creve Coeur (which, while French for "broken heart" or "heartbroken", is pronounced Creev Cor), a suburb outside St Louis. This means I spend probably 16 hours a week in planes and airports (mind, I still bill 40). I noticed this past weekend that I spend the majority of my life in two of the situations in which people feel the most entitled, powerless, tired and pouty: namely, organizational change and air travel. It's a problem; I can feel my faith in the basic goodness of people slowly eroding. People - self included - can go through terrible things with great dignity, but so often endure little hardships like exhausted children.
So, travel is wearing on me some - it's the mix of being gone, dealing with people in airports and on planes, and not successfully changing the entire world in the past 6 months. Mostly I'm lonely. It turns out almost everyone I hung out with is quite busy without me, so rather than the problem I expected to have (not having enough time on weekends to do what I want) I have the exact opposite (not having anyone who wants or is able to go play). And, like, all the dance in Richmond happens during the workweek. Harrumph!
I don't mean that I am miserably sad! The part of travel where I am in new places all the time is pretty great. Thanks to the care of My Roommate the Cheese Lady and the aforementioned fantastically useful [not to mention just fantastic, period] boyfriend, the house is constantly getting cozier and happier. My current work is usually more interesting than my old work (sorry, former colleagues - it's just true), and it changes enough that I'm always learning. I've forgotten how to wear high heels. I still see my parents once a month. I get to find and explore new dance stuff most places I go. That sort of thing.
Still. My predominant feeling is a sortof wistful loneliness and disconnection.
Things happened!
For instance, I was in Chicago on a project for a few months. I used to hate Chicago, but I don't after finding dance classes and various forms of art and entertainment I couldn't find anywhere else. It's unlikely I'd move there, but it's a pretty decent town outside of the winters. It does have spectacular condiments. And fireworks every Wednesday night.
That ended abruptly and with some rejoicing on my part.
In the meantime, a certain someone moved first from Hawai'i to southwest VA and shortly after that in with Willie, My Roommate the Cheese Lady & me. I've been told recently that having your boyfriend move in is a reasonably big deal, and might have merited some sort of announcement. It didn't seem like that huge an event. One weekend he left town when I did, and the next he didn't.
I'm currently working in Creve Coeur (which, while French for "broken heart" or "heartbroken", is pronounced Creev Cor), a suburb outside St Louis. This means I spend probably 16 hours a week in planes and airports (mind, I still bill 40). I noticed this past weekend that I spend the majority of my life in two of the situations in which people feel the most entitled, powerless, tired and pouty: namely, organizational change and air travel. It's a problem; I can feel my faith in the basic goodness of people slowly eroding. People - self included - can go through terrible things with great dignity, but so often endure little hardships like exhausted children.
So, travel is wearing on me some - it's the mix of being gone, dealing with people in airports and on planes, and not successfully changing the entire world in the past 6 months. Mostly I'm lonely. It turns out almost everyone I hung out with is quite busy without me, so rather than the problem I expected to have (not having enough time on weekends to do what I want) I have the exact opposite (not having anyone who wants or is able to go play). And, like, all the dance in Richmond happens during the workweek. Harrumph!
I don't mean that I am miserably sad! The part of travel where I am in new places all the time is pretty great. Thanks to the care of My Roommate the Cheese Lady and the aforementioned fantastically useful [not to mention just fantastic, period] boyfriend, the house is constantly getting cozier and happier. My current work is usually more interesting than my old work (sorry, former colleagues - it's just true), and it changes enough that I'm always learning. I've forgotten how to wear high heels. I still see my parents once a month. I get to find and explore new dance stuff most places I go. That sort of thing.
Still. My predominant feeling is a sortof wistful loneliness and disconnection.