And So It Goes

I suppose after a 19 day hiatus some explanation for my absence is needed. Not an apology, as such, because, you know, I've been doing more than enough of that lately.

In short, I stopped blogging because I disappeared up my own ass for a while there.

At length, I had a bit of a crisis or three. As these things go, totally unrelated and minor in and off themselves but the confluence of them made each worse than it would be in isolation.

The first would probably be losing my job. I don't tend to talk about my job much here because, for one, I like to maintain at least some illusion that I have a private life. And, more importantly, because it was a very boring job and it didn't really take up a lot of my thought processes. And this blog is nothing if not a running commentary on whatever I happen to be thinking about at the moment. It wasn't much of a job, really more of a part time thing, and, as more than one person pointed out, it was beneath me. I'd really been looking to leave it for a long time now but hadn't managed to find anything better. But some time at the beginning of last month I came into work to find out I was no longer employed. It was, believe it or not, the first time I'd ever been fired. And being ungainfully unemployed once more was a bit of a shock, in and of itself. Knocked me for a bit of a loop, as you might well imagine. (And before you ask, no, I still haven't found a job yet. But don't worry about me. I've been out of work before and while I wasn't prepared for this turn of events, I'm not going broke any time soon or anything. I'm not trying to beg for sympathy or request donations or anything of the sort, I'm just trying to work some things out. Even if they're unpleasant.)

The second would be the death of Kurt Vonnegut. I know, I know, it doesn't sound like anything important but you're talking to someone who went into full-on emo mode because of the death of their cat. Mr. Vonnegut is one of those authors, I think, that doesn't get read as much as he gets acclaimed. Since I've never been able to finish even Slaughterhouse Five, I'm one to talk. But he's long been a favorite writer. Someone who's style inspired if not influenced me. And I'd heard the man speak more than once. So the idea that I'd lost the chance to ever meet him in person. To ever just sit and have a conversation with such an individual. Well, it left me pretty depressed. Depression is one of those words that gets tossed around casually. To most it means some kind of intense sadness. But, you know, I've been hospitalized for it more than once and in more than one way so, for me, it means the beginning of a really dark path. (And before you ask, no, I'm not suicidal or anything like that. It's never gone that far. At its worse, you get something like what happened – I turn off, close out, shut down, and pull back into myself and away from anything that might draw me out of my funk. I can't say I'm feeling super pleased or anything at the moment but I'm feeling much better at the moment, thanks.)

The third would be that this is reunion/graduation/wedding season. I just got back from a trip to my personal heartlands to attend my brother's graduation this weekend. I mean to talk more about it but he just graduated from U of M. Unlike me, however, he didn't want to skip out on his graduation so I spent a day not only getting alternately chilled to the bone and sunburned but also sitting around my old school and listening to a bunch of speeches. Talk about how hopeful the future looks and how wonderful it is to have made the journey to finish school. And it's a weird feeling for me since, you know, I was there not too long ago and it hasn't exactly turned out well for me. Throw in some other people I know graduating from college, relatives from high school, couples getting married, and trying to duck out of my own onrushing high school reunion and, well, I'm getting older and feeling like I've been spinning my wheels for far too long. Some time before I quit blogging I had one of those moments where I like to pause and take stock. I like to call these moments “What the fuck am I doing with my life” times. Other people like to call them things like “clinical depression” or “weeklong benders”. But, for a lot of reasons I've been reminiscing, been retrospective, and been filled with the regrets of things left unsaid and things left undone. And one day, I just took a look around and didn't like very much what I saw.

My problem, I thought, was that I'd lost my way. I haven't exactly been happy with where I'm at for a long time now, in case it's not obvious. And that, in no small part, led to the creation of this blong and the driving metaphor behind it all: evolution. I've tried to escape, in one way or form, from my life towards something better but I've found that trying to make drastic changes just doesn't work. Instead, it's making the small changes, step by uncertain step, that can sum up to permanent, lasting change. The start of this blog coincides with yet another attempt to make a concerted, lengthy effort at changing myself enough to be, well, a different person. But I'd lost that. Become comfortable again, afraid to make the changes and sacrifices required, that sort of thing.

So, I shut down blogging for a time. I needed a break and I needed to re-evaluate some things, figure out a new direction to head, that sort of thing. Just take a day out to, as I call it, do the “Costanza” - to do the opposite of whatever my instincts are because my instincts have been proven faulty. Normally, I'd blog up a storm but I figured if blogging was what I wanted to do, it was best not to do it at all. It sounds a lot more logical when I'm drunk, of course.

And that's how I left things here. What I wasn't counting on was a call from my brother. Not the one who just graduated, the other one who's graduating from high school later on this month. Seems he and his friends had planned a spring break down in Florida. Paid for a hotel room, the flights, the works. But at the last moment, their chaperon had backed out. And they needed someone responsible (And north of 21, of course) or the trip was off. Normally, my impulse would be to say no. I try really hard not to be that guy. You know the one. The one who just won't let go and hangs around high school or college or whereever where they have no business being. So, I really didn't want to be not only “that guy” but stuck in a hotel room in an unfamiliar city with nothing to do and no one to do it with.

But I was feeling contrarian so I said “what the hell.” Free trips out of the gloomy weather around here don't happen along every day after all. It turned out to be a good trip. As I thought, the ever widening gulf between myself and today's youth made for some awkward moments. My whole “Holy fuck, I'm an adult? That's some kind of sick joke, right?” attitude didn't help but mostly I think I'm too much of an ur-geek to be hanging around with five semi-jocks (Back when I was in high school we called these sort of people the “ESPN crowd”. The ones who wanted to be jocks but didn't have the talent to be on the actual teams like football or basketball so they wound up on things that no one cared about like the Swim Team. They'd grow up to become the sportswriters and reporters who'd, these days I guess own fantasy teams, work for ESPN or whatever else it was that kept them close to the sports scene. Kids are cruel, what can I say?) shockingly close to half my age. But, you know, sunshine and beaches, girls in far too little clothing, and reasonably priced bars can cure a lot of misgivings. The problem was it was one of those “Great. You've got an hour to pack, we're leaving in five minutes” kind of things. I barely had enough time to throw some sunscreen and shorts in my bag before they were pulling up, let alone leave any kind of message.

Didn't even really think about it because I'd been ignoring people and things. But, anyway, that trip lasted for a good eight or nine days. Then it was time to head to the Bruce for a wedding. And then off to A-Squared for my brother's graduation. I had a few opportunities where I could have logged on and left a message or three but once you get out of that habit it's easy to ignore that kind of stuff. Along the way, some broken laptops, a forgotten password or two, and, well, I dropped off the grid pretty well. Plenty of stories along the way, though, that I'll salt away for later. I did more living in the past few weeks than I have in a while. And, you know, I think it was really the best thing I could have done even if it meant leaving things hanging around here. But I'm back now. And by no means done just yet.