Free to turn any part of my life into a saga, an epic poem, I realize. [And aware how unfunctional doing so may be.]
I worked for money for the first time in five or six months yesterday.
On the way there, I wrote my neighborhood friend an email of things I had before only daydreamed. Nothing may happen from that. I did not visit her this PM, not sure when it will feel good to stop by her place again. I said hi that morning before catching the bus and thought I was too sullen and wrote to apologize/smile, and that led to the rest.
Not really interesting enough to even want to include here--how mild that email is. The more meaningful part addressed my fear of what I perceive as her fear--of being seen as ugly, unfeminine, or something. I would like to love her as she fears to be seen (I think I do--in my daydreams I imagine that). This little paragraph is far more shockingly worded than that mild email, so much do I fear her fear.
[That got me curious (how mild was it really?), so here it is. I am dastardly, have no decency, never have?, have only ever loved you--my reader. Everything I do is to spend time with you? I also wrote below (by the part about Funny Fatima) and then deleted, "I've learned never to gaze at my neighborhood friend." I deleted that thinking she might read it, but guess I'm letting that perhaps misplaced consideration go.
Here's the email:
--------------------------
Subject: smile
[NeighborhoodFriend], just wishing I'd smiled more this am, so: :)
don't worry about what's been said--
seems like the best thing we do is be occasional neighborhood friends / exercise partners. Body wants more, mine at least, but we're more than body--
anyways,
I keep stopping by on occasion, so I'll see you sometime. (you always can tell me not to stop too--)
would be cool if we could plan on things and do them--(sometimes we have!)
it could happen again. But the random visits seem to be what we keep up.
not sure what it would take to mean more to each other--all I came up with was: consonant life plans--like joining the peace corps together. We are pretty different though.
If we manage to retain some desire in seeing each other--I like that. Not sure my personality has much to recommend it beyond peace, and generally smiling, I hope. Well!
no need to reply to this of course. Sort of amazes me how little we talk about the more personal. I never feel like being nosy. I imagine though if we talked more--well, this is the one-sided part: I suppose I think you're like an iceberg: tons going on mentally that is never mentioned to me.
i don't suggest we should change that,
but do think that if/when you find a partner where you're more in love, the partner wouldn't feel s/he know only the surface.
i very much wish, too, you'd dive into fear: fear of being seen as ugly, fear of being mistaken for male even, a sort of acceptance of self beyond gender. I've often half imagined what it would be like to love you with a bald shaved head acting man- like. I'm aware I'm not exactly super-masculine-gendered. . . .
well! I Don't expect any change from this--just happy if you'll still say hi to me, and perhaps on occasion we can play some more games. I think a trip could be cool, but I seem to be way more into rough crude stuff/sleeping/eating than you; not sure we should try to resolve that. My friend mike would go camp out with me around SD.
Must focus on work now.
peace,
Colin
--------------------------]
The dentist. That's really why I came here to write.
Goals:
(1) to leave, to work at sea, perhaps.
(2) to care for teeth (this really doesn't seem to be the goal for me)
previous dentists, all bad in some way, selected by proximity,
My flailing about process has so far yielded one appointment on 12/11 @ 11 with Bartell Dental Clinic, TJ. One tentative appointment with a local dentist whom my friend recommends.
The goal is to get that letter.
Today, may call another TJ dentist.
I have faith I'll get through this. In TJ, some people are shot, many not.
That's all. I've called and made and cancelled appts with local cheap dentists. . . I could walk by his place today, go by city heights clinic/china-/vietnam-town, ask there. Could call the green/bio/price-pottinger dentists.
Think I'll call the rodriguez, tj, guy. 1 877 839 2248 (see my del.icio for links). How did I choose by their web sites and calling? His page goofy, but does accept US insurance, has an article about him. . . Bartell: one guy a bit gruff when I called. Pictures before and after [are] all of serious (extensive) work (compared to SD green guide dentists' [more mild] before/after photos). If get xrays, exam in TJ, perhaps could visit local guy whom my friend likes for a second exam. I liked the web pages with pics of dentists themselves.
[Time-honored, evolved way: tribal, proximal, referral. Less natural(?): Internet/YP/distant stranger. But goal is to leave(?) so, get out of hood. "Dive into fear" as I mentioned in email to friend I wished she might do. Adventure. To write about. To get shot and thereby permanently end dental fretting--to be the first white norteamericano daytime-killed in TJ drug wars (a very unlikely event). To not support the car-based, etc., norteamericano dentist lifeway (but instead the less car-based but still ?? TJ dentist lifeway). To learn the border/TJ more. Damn. This is just about the teeth isn't it? Or that letter? Or?]
Who knows. But, in time, however much of a mess I make of this, the dental issue should be resolved. . .
Then or simultaneously perhaps: essay, char. refs.
---
Working, commuting, [are] peaceful, somewhat passionless, [and] freedom from dentist worries, etc., for a few hours. First hours like that in five/six months. No--or very little--"what now?"
Empty, flat, vacant, foolish, shallow: San Diego faces. Interesting that thought came to mind. SD trolley vs NYC subway, and I'm an SD face now. But how peaceful, extinct, passionless, nirvana. [Oh Funny(?) Fatima--her Latina? friend Sophia(?) called her--gazing wide-eyed, (so close, so long,) into my eyes, [I] returning her gaze as best I can. #15, crowded, we let it go, she waits with her electric-wheelchaired friend. Gazing and gazing and smiling. Somali?, headscarved, she flicks and flitters under her (light, opaque, earth-brown {ochre?}, and patterned) garment talking with her friend, revealing glimpses of denim(?). Smiling, spaced, slightly crooked teeth I later notice. When she looks at me, eyes. What is there?]
Teambuilding with 18 Seabees (Navy construction battalion [CB] for resource transfer from ship to land). The epic view: if these sorry and great, insecure and lovable, big and good and homophobic-joking (their chief seemed to set this tone--we could have addressed it, but it takes a bit of forethought such as this now to do so--homophobia is sort of a subset of put-downs/zingers, which were and generally always are addressed.), diverse, dignified in many ways, guys fuck up [or even if not], some of them die. Tears in eyes if dwelling on this, so tried to not. [But I can be nearly as sentimental about/moved by any program--especially with kids, less so with corporate groups usually. But these guys will live and work {and die} together 24/7. . . adding new dimensions to my contemplation.]
It's good work. I don't seek it out more though [maybe I will someday? I don't feel truly competent in it, and yet show great competentness at times--yes, some very extraordinary moments applying these skills. But within the maritime career--can apply them too, more circumscribed, as more of a fellow, less an outsider. . . Yet so much of the (teambuilding) work has an oddness, an opening into 1000 questions, so easy for me to fall through: What is our goal, friends? Can you accomplish a task not knowing the larger goal to which it contributes? Do we ever do otherwise?]. And being with them and at the Navy base, and reading _Moby Dick_, just strengthen my resolve (mirabile dictu) to somehow, eventually, be a civilian sailor. [For however short a time.]
---
Pensions: man works 25 years, retires at 58 with salary of 180k, yearly pension is 160k. SD County. French Revolution. May the recession not end until all gov't pensions fail. Or we can just live with those who get them, such as my grandma (three times married, three? gov't pensions), or my dad (20 years navy). When 3k/year is enough for me (no rent). Manufacture desire. Well, 3k/yr, easy enough, just do what you like--as much as you can--but hints suggest government may once again become concern of public. SD Mayor Jerry Sanders: ~"We do not exist to pay pensions." Not sure what my old age will be like, whether there will be any for me, how much of a charity case I may be, but doubt I will cost anyone's government [or charity] $160,000/year, however gallant or not my service may be. Not responsible, this speech. Not considered. Will lead to no action at this point. Here in nucleus, could later develop with more consideration, responsibility. That retired assessor, for one, may pay some taxes, for example.
---
For the record, been at this all AM (car alarms, trash trucks, but no very nearby leaf blowers), missed AM exercise. Much fiddling with Fatima: "blue jean(?!) interior materiel" -> "pseudodenim", to where it is now, and punctuation, and so on.
Night before work, often mindlessly eat, not at peace, avoiding getting ready, not sure what, same this time. Was up to 199.8lbs, I believe. Now just weighed at 191.0. Either scale fluctuates, or variation due to water weight is significant. Latter possible given the lot of high-fiber stuff I've been eating recently. And how much I peed all night. Oh! and the dreams--
---
Now?
Peace,
No comments:
Post a Comment