Not grounded.

Nope.

I have a lot that needs to be restored or even first built in terms of balance and focus. I’m swinging from tree to tree these days, and I need to ground.

You need to take rejection seriously

I’m rolling this around.

What happens when I don’t is that I remain in perpetual hope (maybe now! okay now. now?) and then I get to experience the rejection for a million years.

(how ’bout now?)

Rapid fire impact reminders

There has been so much happening with me this year in the arenas of intimacy, relationships, and also of things of old coming into the present. Each event seems to increase in intensity, and there has been a recent surge–everything is accelerated.

I am exhausted, but not out of strength.

I don’t know what to make of it, I just know it’s all important and meaningful. I am doing my best, learning what there is to learn. I am receiving a lot of sexual attention where in the past there has been an inarguable lack of it, and I can’t lie, it’s exhilarating and beautiful and at times dizzying and certainly overstimulating. In the end this may all be about restoring balance, but where I am now is certainly not what anyone could accuse of being mistaken for balance.

In January I completed a tattoo that has been a work in progress for maybe twelve (is it longer? Probably, yes) years. Certainly it has been a transitional bunch of years. What bunch of years isn’t?

I received this tattoo, this final portion, in a ritual environment, surrounded by friends. Abraham, who did the work, has been working on this piece with me for perhaps ten years? And there is Orien and Christine, pivotal figures (especially O) in my story, old and new. Abe and his partner Gordon come up to O & C’s at least once a year for a weekend of insulated ritual tattooing. Part of the ritual is declaring an intention, and mine was this; that now that we are finally finally finally completing this chapter, things would begin to manifest.

That night things started. The drummer I ended up dating for a bit; we’d been flirting for many months, but the night I got home from my tattoo weekend is when we began acknowledging the flirtation and making plans.

The next several months included the beginning middle and end of my thing with the drummer, the final reconciliation and ultimate destruction of me and Joe, another really really quick beginning middle and end with someone else, and the heart-stopping introduction of Mason. He is the wild card in all this–he is the crush of all crushes, the one that felt like such a real and magical possibility. And yet, panning out to be a big nothing for now. Certainly not to be filed under manifestation, but perhaps someday something more will be revealed.

And in all this, in June, I went to Free Spirit. And at Free Spirit I did a shamanic workshop with Sylvia, with whom I had also beautifully and lovingly connected on a personal level. At the workshop though, Orien was at my side and Christine was at his; we all took a journey. Abe and Gordon, who are students of Sylvia’s, assisted in the workshop.

And man did I journey. I think what I’m going through now really is a spin-out from that work, though it seems all connected.

I don’t think I can possibly tell all of it, both for reasons of privacy and sheer lack of endurance. There has been so much.

There is this man. I knew him back when I was like 17-20, and he is a few years older than me. I’d never been especially attracted to him, neither then nor now, but always crazy fond of him. And it started as a silly, junior high school joke of a ‘we should make out’ nature, and turned into something deeper but also more complicated, kind of in a nothing-will-ever-quite-be-the-same-even-though-we-can’t-ever-really-be-together way (oh, that old thing). This was about a month ago.

And just in case you thought the universe was not playing along, six days later I walk outside my office building and there he is, walking towards me.

Maybe tonight

I’ll just blog a little bit before bed. I had a migraine all day and the last two days at work I was just a moody motherfucker, but right now I’m sort of okay. Tired, but not overwhelmingly so.

There has just been so much, if I look back at the year since January it just hasn’t stopped for me. Change. New things. That’s what hasn’t stopped. And a lot of work. Long, long work hours. And a great deal of inactivity in between.

Hm. At the beginning of the year I was feeling pretty great, and right now I feel a little crummy. Not horrible, not despairing, not even rotten. Just not my greatest. But I wonder (and that was the ‘hm’) if the feelings are accurate indicators for how I’m actually doing. I don’t, in fact, feel that I’m doing poorly. And so it occurs to me, and I believe I’ve written about this before, that when I’m feeling my best is not necessarily when I’m ‘on top of’ things, for lack of a better way to illustrate.

I dunno.

Lately.

A few months ago I got swept off my feet by an image of a man. And it is the image of what I want which swept me off my feet–the man did no such thing. I mean, the man was real (he is real) but I hardly know him and he has shown no interest in me. There is no relationship–he is a crush, if you will. But a crush that has been high impact. This man, or the idea of this man, is someone I could see myself totally digging, enjoying the crap out of talking with him and learning from him and doing things with him–cooking or driving or adventuring or mundaning. I can see it all, but I can also feel how easy it is and how fun. And that , even just the fantasy, has offered me a glimmer of what being with the right person could feel like.

While in fact there has been a series this year of the wrong persons.

What I want to write about these days is so intimate that I don’t think I can write about it in this forum. It is my ultimate exploration, but frankly it exposes all my specifics and let’s face it, I’m pretty public, so maybe not such a good idea. My Mad Men blog is getting me well over my 15 minutes of fame (as you may know, because you may just be someone who found this blog via that one).

So what I want to write about is the relationship and confusion around affection, sexual relationships, intimacy, degrees of caring–all that stuff. I want to write about it because writing it out helps me to work it out. And it is so tangley.

Things…

…are a little messed up right now.

As always, I’ve been meaning to write more. And I haven’t. And I’ve had so much cool stuff to talk about.

And now a couple of things have occurred and I cannot write about either. At least right now. And they happened within 24 hours of each other, and they are both large, and one is very terrible, and one is both terrible and beautiful.

And I am very, very jumbley. And suddenly feeling (appropriately) unstable. And I don’t know what’s next in so many ways.

I’ve wanted to write about:

• The experience of being over Joe; having him out of my system

• Other guy stuff; one more that came and went very quickly

• Our trip to LA and meeting Jon Hamm

I’ll be back. I will.

It’s really human of you to listen to all my bullshit.

I heard pieces of an interview with someone today–a singer/songwriter chick on WFUV. A good one, an accomplished one. I just couldn’t figure out who. I’m trying to find out.

Regardless. I am going to paraphrase something she said that really struck me:

My songwriting helps me navigate my life. I write songs and that is how I discover how much I’ve learned.

(I will be able to find out next week who she was, and if I have the patience, I will get the actual quote.)

I have had no consistency with my writing in a very long time. Especially not in here (or maybe I have in fact been consistent in here, merely scarce).

And I have been going through some interesting stuff, emotionally. Experientially. But a lot of it is elusive. Kind of muddy.

I’ve wanted to write, but I can’t think how to start. And I never really remember that truly, in here, in this space, all I need to do is start typing. This is a journal, so my opening can always be, if I must, “I have nothing to write about. I’ve been busy.”

But it hadn’t occurred to me until I heard her say that this morning, that writing could actually help me get some clarity. Just didn’t cross my mind. So that’s interesting.

Here’s another thing. Songwriting. I haven’t written in years. And I’ve never felt that I’ve really found my songwriting voice (one major reason I don’t write). I have some really good songs. But it’s never flowed, like when I write in here or like when I’m sharing thoughts with a friend. When I’m blogging, and when I’m speaking on something I feel passionate about, I have a very distinctive point of view. As like, a brand, Roberta is very strong. And that has never been the case with my songwriting. And about a month ago it hit me–I should write from here. This is the place I should write from. Historically I have never infused my songs with my particular wisdom; I think I play a more lost character in my songs. And so wouldn’t it be interesting if I could do this. If I could be as frank in my songs as I am everywhere else.

More as this develops.

You think you’re alone until you realize you’re in it

My weekend was so full and delicious.

First of all, the preceding workweek was amazingly and unprecedentedly peaceful. Two occurences magically converged—there was breaking news/drug complications in my therapeutic category (I work for a promotional medical education agency whose clients = big pharma companies) that is basically an opportunity for new messaging on one of our major brands. And what it meant for most of my team was that all our work is on hold until they work this out. And so we had nearly nothing to do. Every day last week. And? My direct supervisor, who is directly evil, was on vacation. Had she been in, my ass would have been in my chair until 6:00 every night, but because she was out, I could leave at 5:00, 5:30, even 4:30 on Thursday (and we were closed Friday yaaay). It was all legitimate; the appropriate people were aware of my departure times— she just would have made it difficult for me. So there was a lot of breathing last week.

And then my weekend. I got a phone call while I was on the bus home on Thursday; an invite to a happy hour. So by 7:00 I was over at the Notch, having a whiskey sour, playing my guitar on the porch in a little song exchange with some friends. It was such a great jumpstart.

The full weekend included:

- One date with someone I’ve been seeing. One date with someone new. (maybe a date. the jury is out, but it was datelike.)
- Two live bands; Thursday night and Friday night.
- A walk around downtown Jersey City to start scoping out the possibility of living there. Very proud of myself for doing that, and mom joined me, which helped.
- Some fooding for the following parties; I made my very first cheesecakes (lemon) which came out delicious, and my nearly-epic potato salad
- Two sets of music, now that I think of it—the first I already mentioned, but I also played a real set at Ray and Tracy’s, with Ray and Adam and Arthur drumming along.
- Three parties:
> Friday night at Peter and Lori’s—they have wonderful outdoor parties that feel kind of like high school only everyone is old.
> Saturday at Ray and Tracy’s, good friends, a maybe date and only a bit of drama. Then we watched the Ridgewood fireworks which kind of kicked ass
> Sunday at mom’s, which was really nice. Connected with the daughters (one especially) of a friend of my mom’s. And Benjamin and Evy were there. Any time spent with Ben and Evelyn is a good time.

Honestly by Saturday morning I already felt like I’d had a full weekend, and it just went on and on.

It’s just—overall my life feels lighter, and I feel abundance everywhere. Since when? This phase kicked off after the weekend with Joe (or, after the aftermath of), followed by the weekend where I went to Paul’s memorial, and then a few weeks later I was at Free Spirit, and at Free Spirit I did major shamanic work, and I keep feeling the shift.

(But all year. The tattooing in January, leading into the drummer I was seeing, leading into making plans to see Joe. I have been feeling the upswing… upping and swinging, for many months.)

I don’t know if I should be writing anything about what I might start writing about. Just—there is this boy I like. I mean sure, there are lots of boys I like, and I’m maybe even seeing a few of them. But there is this boy I like.

I am obsessing for sure, because that is what I do. I can’t get this one out of my mind, and I have a hope and a dream and a wonder.

And so A) he is not a good idea at this time, plus B) I don’t even feel like he likes me back.

But I can’t stop thinking about what might happen down the line when A) it becomes a better time for him, and B) what if he starts to like me back? Or maybe he already does, only I just don’t know it.

Yes. I am being all kinds of cryptic again. I really need to. But I will name him Mason for this blog.

I’ve had no indication that he likes me back, in the ‘likes’ me way. He most certainly likes me in the ‘friend’ (ugh) way. Who wouldn’t?

The other day though, there was a slight break in the ‘like’ department—an indication. A possible indication of the other kind of ‘like’. Which, while it could be nothing, it could also absolutely be something.

To be filed under the category of, Roberta, Leave this all the fuck alone and stop pushing the river.

My worst category, for those of you who haven’t been following along at home.

And so the indication, or my interpretation of this indication, is like, Danger Will Robinson.

It’s complicated, and it’s private, why Mason is not an option right now, and why any closeness now would be a bad thing. And in my head of heads, I do not want him liking me right now.

Of course, my head of heads is not what will make my decisions. Because in my heart of hearts I want to be with him as much as I have ever wanted to be with anyone. More. I’m gonna go with more.

And so what am I gonna do? I’m gonna follow this thing. Of course I am. I’m already breaking some rules I’d set up for myself. And if he somehow wants to see me, I’ll see him. And if something happens between us and I know it’s a mistake, I’ll make the mistake.

Somehow, this little thing got indicated. Somehow, he couldn’t help himself with leaking this little extra piece of affection that I would never have seen coming.

And I’m fully obsessed. I see that too. I go a few days, but then we interact and my stomach is doing acrobatics and I’m buzzing. I’m up half the night with the excitement of having interacted.

I try to think through scenarios. And I thought through one touch. ONE touch; I pictured us hanging in a non-date setting and us maybe cooking together or something and as we’re in the kitchen his hand touches my back as we work. I got to that moment in my head and I physically flashed on the affect it had on me. Jolts of heat and emotion. I flashed on all of that. If he wants me, he gets me.

And all I can hope is that between the insanity that is me obsessed, and the brokenness that is him in his current situation, that this either is guided by magical lightness into something substantive and long-lasting, or it fades the fuck away before it goes anywhere at all.

I am in a very good mood

Sometimes when you feel free and open and forward-moving you are really just very stuck.

I really wish that weren’t the case. But the truth is that feeling wonderful is very tricky, because you assign it health.

So when I am feeling good will I always assume I am at my best?

And will it even serve me to assume otherwise?

Ahh, these are the great mysteries of life’s lessons.

So anyway, I can look back at everything leading up to Joe as stucker than I’d thought. But I can also not. I got to Joe’s, and it knocked me loose.

And I feel really loose. And really excited. And really gentle.

I could write all day, but I can’t write all day, so once again I will try to topline things, and talk about coming back later to elaborate, which either will or won’t happen.

Last night I went to see Brett’s show. Brett is the gay guy I picked up many weeks back, the one with whom I plan on working musically. Only last night I learned that he is a major, major talent. This was a collection of his songs, performed by a collection of brilliant cabaret performers. “And this one is from my musical ____ …”. “So-and-so asked me to write a song for her act that expressed…” Yeah. Genius. I spoke with some of the performers. They were like, yup, Brett is the real deal, and we need to keep getting the word out.

And he wants to work with me! I was literally bouncing down the street after the show, a la tigger. I am bowled over, and more so that I have somehow, through seeming randomness, attracted this guy into my life. That is the kind of magic I can get behind.

I have decided to move. Not far, just closer to the city. Lease is up November 1, but I need to get to work. Sorting, packing, throwing things out, saving some money, and checking out neighborhoods and apartments. My horrible job situation has had a pretty significant shift, activated by me, and my job is as secure as a job can be, considering no job is fully secure. But I have been told I am exceeding expectations and have turned things around and that I am kind of the gold standard for what they wanted of my position. And other things about what’s coming down the line. So I am moving, and I am excited.

Joe encouraged me to make one change in my diet, and it’s been amazing–I now eat fruit every morning, only fruit and then more substantive breakfast (and my coffee) 30-60 minutes later. I’ve done it every morning since I visited him (Memorial Day weekend) except for a couple of mornings at Free Spirit. And it’s working wonders on my digestive system. Really really big changes.

More yoga. Always a challenge, but I’m doing it.

The workshop I took with Sylvia at Free Spirit–a shamanic, tantric breathwork ceremony–it is still with me. I feel changed. It has mostly been so subtle, but it was not subtle work. I can’t think about it too much, or I will go back to it and just cry and cry. And it is good to know I can go back like that. There is more crying to be had, and I’m glad I know where to find it. But as for now? Two things I can identify. Yesterday I had a rotten retail experience where I got extremely angry and refused to pay what I was being charged. This was as ugly as things get and goodness knows I can flare up pretty hot. But the level of anger that I carried away with me was notably lower than is my norm after something like that. I did not maintain it the way I would have previously. The other thing is that the irritation on my chest, the skin problems I’ve endured for the last three + years, seems to have faded. I have no idea if that’s the truth, but right now it all feels good. The heaviest work I did was in the heart and throat chakras, and I wore a necklace into the ceremony (total coincidence–I didn’t even know we were working chakras) that is a green stone, specifically gifted to me a few years ago to aid my heart chakra. Because the work was so powerful I’ve been wearing that charged up necklace ever since. And my chest hasn’t been irritated. Typically I can’t wear necklaces more than once a week or even less because it’s so uncomfortable. So that is pretty wild.

I feel brighter. Somehow the peacock colors are with me–I’m wearing them, I’m radiating them. In January I am getting the tattoo I’ve been wanting for three years, but it will be entirely new and unique from what I’d seen, and I’m excited and ready.

I don’t know what gets the credit. I mean, there’s a lot converging. I am definitely in a lighter mood. A huge weight at work is lifted. I participated in the ceremony. I feel, for the first time since I’ve met him, really done with Joe. I had a taste of love at first sight–even if just a taste of what that might be like. I have someone new I’m hanging with, and someone else I’m talking about hanging with. I have a few musical projects in the works. The yoga, the fruit. I don’t know what gets the credit, but I like that there’s a lot converging. And so much manifesting.

So am I forward-moving or just feeling good? Not gonna lie, I don’t know if I care that much right now.

(But I am forward-moving.)

I went to Free Spirit

Top line:

• Got my tattoo touched up (the color had fallen out last January)
• Danced one of the best bonfires I’ve ever attended
• Threw my own concert. Little handmade signs around the camp. Right off our porch, full sound system.
• Deepened some friendships
• Bought two really pretty rings
• Co-hosted an awesome feast
• Got lots of body work done; two massages and some reiki (the second massage and the reiki were to undo the injury obtained in the first massage. but still.) I received so much healing I got full.
• Ate the most delicious vegan dish ever
• Committed to the big peacock tattoo. Down payment. Game on.
• Hung out with true and dear friends
• Relaxed, relaxed, relaxed.
• Went to one yoga class, and did some on my own
• Made Dunkin Donuts coffee runs
• Got mudded
• Ate a lot of cookies
• Made my bed ; )
• Participated in a tantric shamanism breathwork ceremony. The greatest, hardest work I’ve ever done.
• Did not pursue one single boy. Not one. No one caught my eye. In my case, this is cause for celebration.
• Despite a lot of rain and a lot of bugs and a lot of unruly children, vibed nicely with the friends with whom I camped (cabined)

Am I forgetting anything?

glow with the gold of sunshine

I want to write more about the experience of Paul’s memorial.

It’s hard, because I am writing too infrequently, and so many things have been happening. It’s already hard to go back to this one, but I am being insistent that I get it down. Because it was important, and it is at risk of getting covered with more current urgencies.

And, I mean, these past few weeks have been rich. There was a very different reunion, and my mom being given an extraordinary honor where I made a speech and everything, and big revelations at my job, and a new guy I am seeing, but I need to first write about this other thing.

I grew up in Ridgewood, NJ, a gorgeous town of affluence–one of the most expensive towns in one of the most expensive counties in the state, top whatever school systems probably in the country.

I couldn’t have fit in less.

With all that money, there was a lot of indifference and indulgence. I graduated high school in 1983. Breakfast Club? I mean, to a degree, but frankly, the different sanctions were a lot more integrated than in that film. Sure, there were jocks and heads but they intermingled.

The heads. Short for potheads, right? Ah-hah, but also deadheads. And Paul was very much at the center of that world.

And I was not.