(In)dependence

So I have completed week one of completely being on my own. It is nice, I won't negate the pleasure I found in it last week. But I have learned some things in the last seven days. For example, living alone really stinks when you take a nasty spill in the parking lot in the middle of the night... and bleed for the rest of it. And then seriously consider calling your parents and asking them to get out of bed to take you to the emergency room. This is something that can never be a proud moment for someone on the downward slide to 30. I know that when I was younger, my parents' biggest fear was that they would get a call in the middle of the night saying I was hurt and/or needed to go to the hospital. The call never came, but one time I told them I needed to go... long story. But somehow, the playing field has leveled and now I worry the same thing about them. Isn't it weird how things like that come full circle? I can hope they stop worrying about me as the years pass, but somehow, I doubt it.

In addition to becoming intimately acquinted with the concrete, there were other, much more minor things that made me (almost... a very BIG almost mind you) regret my independence this week. How about when you have a large load of groceries, etc. and you have to carry them in on your own? ... Oh wait, I did that where I lived before, nevermind ;) But the example stands. Struggling up a set of stairs with bags and keys, all a jumble.

But considering I struggled like crazy with the things listed above... as well as a few others... this week, I have to ask myself... Will I learn to adapt to these types of situations, or is "true" idenpendence a fallacy? I can kill a spider on my own, no problems. But life sometimes hits us hard (many times in the knee) and I have to ask... Do we all need at least one person who can be there for us at any given time?

~Wildflower

So here I am in my brand new apartment of my own :) I can say I have been here only three days and I think I love it. It is small, but fits all my stuff perfectly, and I have plenty of space left over. Maybe it is the fact that for the first time I am living on my own, maybe it is the fact that I have a garden view and located in the heart of the complex, maybe it is the complex's proximity to interesting things nearby... but everytime I look around I feel good. And maybe a bit of a sense of accomplishment. Now, if I could only stop worrying about money, I'd be content :)

So, as a "toast" to my new life on my own, and plenty of new beginnings that will spring from it, I am posting a recent picture of myself. This is huge because I rarely even allow pictures to be taken of myself lately. I tend to cringe whenever I see current pictures of myself, so I try to avoid them altogether. However, when I got this picture back from the lab today, I started to cringe, but then I smiled a little instead. I think this is a huge step, so I am sharing it with you all. So for your viewing pleasure and for my ceremonial ringing in of a new life, here is a shot of my brother and I at the SF Fringe Festival opening night party last weekend:

~Wildflower

P.S. TONS OF THANKS to all my movers who helped so much last weekend! :)

MOVING!!!!

This is me:



HELP!

I should be packing...

...but I am not. Nope I am not. And I am not ashamed, I will advertise my laziness for the world to see. Actually, I don't think "laziness" is the real culprit here. The minute I think about what I still need to do before, during, and after I move, I feel so overwhelmed that have the sensation of slowly sinking under water. Although I have made quite a bit of headway, I have a closet and a garage that have become a time capsule of clutter. Two years worth of carelessly stashed things that maybe didn't matter... Or I couldn't figure out how they mattered at the time. Last night I had a dream that I was all packed up, had a bunch of people carrying my stuff, and then I couldn't find my new apartment! When I did find it, it more closely resembled a hospital room. Bathroom and a bed. Somehow, this is not a good sign.

However, I did get to FINALLY see my new place today, and even though it is quite a bit smaller than the place I am used to, it is a far cry from a hospital ward. It seems my new apartment manager may share my frustration with my current manager's constant absenteeism... A cleverly placed smirk on her part seemed to tell me so.

And then... I get home... AND SOMEONE HAS TAKEN OUR MAIL! GREAT! I have no idea what to do. This has never happened to me before, and it is surprisingly violating. I just hope the mailman left it open and some kind person took it to the office. Of course, the absent landlady may be no help. Maybe my mail slipped into the same black hole that steals her away. Hmmm.

So... for a strange end to a strange day, I talked to a friend... someone I only know online, and even slightly at that... for a while and it turns out he is going through a lot of the same things I am right now. We discussed wine, velveeta, and separation. Yep. Oh, and how I am "stressed out beyond the edge of reason", much like the door to my closet and the shelves in my garage. These things have become my dirty little secrets, a part of me that I don't even want to admit exists. Especially the velveeta.

~Wildflower