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Feeling ways about things
When I’m depressed like I’ve been, I notice things less. I can be staring at the most beautiful sunset and all I take note of is that the sun is setting. Things I might find wonderful when I am feeling “more myself”, I don’t really acknowledge. I am looking, but not seeing. Nothing much has been beautiful to me lately. Nothing much interests me. I am an observer, impassive, resigned.
Last night I went to hear a bluegrass jam at a local bar. At one point, the nostalgia the music evoked, the homesickness for a time and a place when I saw and felt more, brought me to tears. I talked to some nice folks, and I met a guy I thought was really attractive. Like, really attractive. Like, my breathing and heart rate were affected by his proximity and actions. And, nothing will come of this encounter with a cute boy, but it’s nice to feel ways about things. I so rarely find myself attracted to someone to the point of butterflies and tongue-tied. I think I can count the times I’ve felt this powerfully attracted to someone on one hand, and it’s never been anyone I’ve dated or slept with. It’s always some guy I talk to once or twice and never see again. I kind of wonder what might happen if I actually dated one of them.
Tonight I looked out my living room window to see a stunning view of downtown Oakland and the hills beyond, lights twinkling playfully, and I thought, well, isn’t this gorgeous. How lucky am I.
I think the point of this was to say that in the past few days I’ve been noticing things. Seeing what I look at, hearing what I listen to, feeling ways about things. I’m on an upswing? Maybe? My fatalistic little heart is telling me already not to get too comfortable.
There once was a Kirsten who would have felt so encouraged by this ever-so-slight lifting of the fog that she’d have made all sorts of promises to herself to let more light in and be more proactive. The funny thing is that what I’m doing is impassively observing the fact that I’m not observing so impassively lately.
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The following is a Facebook post from my wife’s law school roommate and close friend:
This is my husband Alex Blevins He has been missing since yesterday afternoon (1/20/2012). He was last seen in Washington County Indiana, driving a brown minicooper with the license place NI9162. He was upset and agitated, and left behind indications that he might be harming himself. My children and I need your help in finding him. Please watch the roads, walk your property and ask those around you to help us find him and bring him home.
I’ve no idea if I have any followers in the southern Indiana/northern Kentucky area, but I’m of the opinion that anything helps. If you are in this area of the country, please keep your eyes peeled. And if you’re one who believes in prayer or positive thought, consider keeping this family in your thoughts.
(via tj)
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My niece was never found. She is still in my prayers. Daily.
MISSING: Mishell-Nicole DiAmonde Green (link)
please pass this around if you can.
Case Type: Endangered
DOB: Mar 09, 1995
Missing Date: Sep 08, 2011
Age Now: 16
Missing City: New York
Missing State: NY
Case Number: 2074Gender: Female
Race: Black
Complexion: Medium
Height: 5-0
Weight: 150
Hair Color: Other
Hair Length: Shoulder Length
Eye Color: Brown
Wear Glasses or Contacts: YesLocation Last Seen: Last seen leaving home headed to her after-school program located at 555 Broome Street in Manhattan, NY. Reported to have been in the area of the West Village in Manhattan, New York by an acquaintance which the detectives have interviewed by phone. This was Friday the 9th of September she was last reported to be seen by her acquaintance.
Circumstances of Disappearance: Unknown. We have no idea why she disappeared, where she could have went or who she’s with. None of her friends, or boyfriend have heard from her, no Facebook activity and no calls to anyone. She is a model child who is very focused on graduating high school and attending a historical black University. She only has one year left in school. She never exhibited any behavioral problems or issues and is loved by all. Her Facebook reflects that. We just have no clue. She disappeared into thin air.
Last Seen Wearing: White rain jacket, blue jeans, blue canvass shoes with white soles. Green bag with brown trim in the style of an across the chest bag.
Identifying Marks or Characteristics: UnknownHave information about this missing person? Click here to submit information to our Tip Line
Holy smokes, that afterschool is right by my old home in NY. Please reblog this. Please. My thoughts are with this young woman and her family.
(via dopegirlfresh)
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This is a very difficult post for me….my daughter Vanessa Rose Parker, age 15 is missing. I am desperate to find her and know that she is safe so I am posting this here hoping someone will see it and respond with any information at all. She was last seen on Friday the 13th, when my husband Clinton dropped her off at 6:45am at Providence High School in Charlotte, NC. She has deleted her Facebook account and her friend list. She is 5’3, weighs around 135, has full braces, wears violet contacts but has hazel eyes naturally.Her hair is very dark brown and below shoulder length. She appears older than she actually is, in her appearance and demeanor. Anyone with any information at all please message me via FB or email me as seaflower@felines.net. Thank you for any help and appreciate your prayers and your concern. This is every parent’s worst nightmare…..
-Vanessa’s mom
please be kind and reblog this. I normally don’t do this type of stuff but this is in my town. Her parents are worried sick. Get this around to see if anyone in this city has any information about her.(via atsirhc)
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Uh huh, it’s a thing."
Thus spake ripslich. -
OH WHAT LIKE I’M GONNA POUR IT OUT?
??
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SO I WAS JUST MIXING MYSELF SOME WHISKEY AND COKE
AND I POURED ALL THE WHISKEY IN THE GLASS. ALL OF IT. I THOUGHT I WAS POURING THE COKE. I WAS WRONG. NOW I HAVE TO DRINK ALL THE WHISKEY AND I AM GOING TO DIE OF WHISKEY. WHAT A WAY TO GO.
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Locked myself out of my bedroom wearing nothing but a bathrobe, with my phone inside. But, I’m a genius at picking locks.*
*it was a really easy lock to pick
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I just saw this picture of Kim Kardashian on ONTD and now I’m terrified.
Please keep getting plastic surgery, rich people. You bring me such joy.
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Ah, but here’s the thing. Your tp posts are SO FUCKING VALID. If you’re a buttwipe, you’re my kind of buttwipe.
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Just quickly on the SOPA blackout.
The SOPA Blackout protests are a typical response from people used to snivelling while their lunch money gets stolen. We’re turning the other cheek instead of doing everything we can to punch the other guy’s lights out.
So, you know, yay us.
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tt
I remember one time my ex-husband got mad because one of the members at the gym he works at threw a fit because she wanted to drop her kids off in the nursery to take a class and she couldn’t because she hadn’t scheduled a slot and the nursery was full. He said, “Seriously? That’s the worst thing that happened to you today?” And I replied, “Maybe it is. Who are you to say? Or maybe she just found out that her husband is banging someone else, and she really needed to work out to blow off steam, and now she can’t because she’s got her kids and her husband is off banging someone else and she doesn’t have a babysitter she can call on short notice. Either way, her feelings are valid. That doesn’t mean they’re your responsibility.”
Sometimes people complain to me about shit that I think is stupid, and I want to scream at them. I want to shake people whose lives look, to me, on the surface, to be enviably easy.
But I swallow that impulse, every time. Because if the worst thing that happened to you today is that you had to clean a toilet, or go to work when you had the sniffles, or drink off-brand cola, or you were late to spinning class, or whatever, it doesn’t matter if I can’t relate. It doesn’t matter if I think you have it easy. What matters is that you need to get it off your chest, you need comfort. So I try to remember that one time I said something smart, because I was right.
I don’t like to complain (I know. I know. I really don’t, though). I don’t like when other people complain. I like to celebrate the little moments that make life bearable, even joyful. But I also like having a place where I can rant and whine about my crazy sister and my old Dad and how downright broken and miserable I feel sometimes. And a lot of the time, I know just how trivial and shallow my complaints seem. And I’m certain some of you read my shit and you’re like, “Whatever, princess. Call me when you have actual problems.” And that’s okay. I don’t care. I just want you all to know I celebrate your right to bitch, even if it seems trivial.
