for whom the baja blasts

In late March I was fortunate enough to attend a rare speaking event featuring the author of House of Leaves , Mark Z. Danielewski. Anyone familiar with my work and interests knows how significant this was to me. The event was hosted at Bryn Mawr College near Philadelphia and an online friend of many years sent the announcement to me in passing. It wasn't highly advertised. I never would have known about it for this message and I'm eternally grateful for their thinking of me.  The host of the event, a professor, had an idea for a project (of which I'm curious to see how it turns out) by providing a litany of secondhand books to attendees of the events. We were to jot down notes and thoughts in the books as we listened to Z. speak, and then the books would be turned into a massive, physical piece of art. At a certain point though, I stopped taking notes that would contribute to this interesting piece and took out my phone to write down things I found significant for myself t...

This was always an odd topic. It was hard to discuss in passing conversations or posts online, because it invariably left out literal years of context and would absolutely, without fail, create more issues than it was worth due to people latching onto things that they perceived as slights and offensives towards them. The greatest and worst comedy was that the most vocal and upset responses to any such commentary were generally never even a component of that initial conversation. People would see commentary from those with online audiences and would immediately get upset, since they were a part of an online audience. Well, that's a part of why I am writing this now. I don't need to go punch for punch with someone already incensed on something that they misinterpreted. Even with this attempt, this text won't be comprehensive and will likely yield further, similar posts in the future as I recall more experiences.  But this is important to me as it has absolutely affected every...

For a long time, being asked about what I wanted in a relationship was something that only ever came up in a moment of tension. It tended to be on the tail-end of a relationship, where we were realizing that things were not working out for whatever reason, with it usually being (but not always) my fault. When these moments happened later in my life, they tended to be less dramatic. There was a level of maturity there, an understanding that this was not working out and that separating was likely the most straightforward solution. When it's mutual, it seems that it's a lot easier, but I'm not sure that's the proper word. A lot more frictionless, maybe. Smoother. Some people are just not compatible, and they go their separate ways. Some of these former relationships go on to become friends, some even "lifetime" friends. But it's always an odd situation to find oneself in where the amicable, obvious solution is separation, but one or both of the couple are rel...

This year has already brought a lot of clarity. As always, these thoughts will be dealing with both the good and bad sides of such realizations. This one in particular has to do with memory. 

There's been so much said about holding onto grudges being poison for both parties or for couples to never go to bed angry. Tired cliches, you know the deal. There is truth in these, of course, but over the years and in this process of mine, I've realized something that I had never considered. Or at least hadn't given the proper amount of thought. I guess that's the beauty of talking to a professional. They broadside you with realizations.  Forgiveness and reconciliation should always be the objective in matters between two people who care about one another, but seeking it prematurely can lead to even worse off results in the long run.

As with anything written here, this will very much be a scenario in which it's up to you to decide who, when, and where this could be relevant for you, if at all. I'm not one for maintaining a "customer service" voice or affect, but this particular realization likely isn't needed for the people you are very close with and may only be relevant when donning such a hat. 

I've come to call it "the gambler's itch," though I'm not sure that's appropriate for everyone. It's the first impulse to do something seeking a shot of chemical reward, or the creeping onset of a manic episode. It's winning a small amount of money on the one time you gamble on a big sports game and believe, even if only for a moment, that you could easily recreate that success given the chance. It's the afterglow of a first drink at a party, lying to yourself that you are content and don't need much more.  Just to reiterate, or let you know for the first time, as of about two years ago, I was diagnosed as bipolar two and have presumably been living with it since my teens. Perhaps I'll get into it later on, or in later posts, but in reflection and treatment since then, had I known that it both existed and what constituted it, there were plenty of red flags that maybe I would have taken notice of back then. Probably not, twenty-year-olds thi...