Noreaster

So, today is the day that I finally go back to Rachel's house and pick up the last of my shit.

What? It's only been a year and three quarters since I left...

Honestly, I think that I have been dreading it because I have a real aversion to talking to her about having a baby. It isn't because I am ashamed, or that I feel like I owed her a better explanation, or anything like that; it is merely weird and uncomfortable, and I have built a whole lifestyle out of avoiding weird and uncomfortable situations.

That said, I am totally amped to pick up my bowflex, my digital video camera, my books, my DVD's, and my stereo. I am not as psyched to pick up the enormous mountain of crap that neither of us wants, but my procrastination in this matter leaves me with no choice but to accept and haul out. I am sure that any crappy old furniture, gloves without mates, and boxes of musty paper are going to be coming home with me today. I just hope it takes less than three hours, because the moving van people close early on Sundays.

Yesterday was the last day of the Acupuncture portion of the program, and save a couple of make-up clinic shifts, I am done with my M.S. in acupuncture, and can procede to getting my license to practice. It would have been more sad to finish if I wasn't going to be on campus eight hours a week next tri. Nonetheless, it is weird to actually finish something. I never finish things. I didn't finish my B.A. Maybe this can usher in a new chapter in my life. Probably not, but maybe.

Anyway, right now I am reading a few good things:

"Drawing From the Right Side of Your Brain," which utilizes drawing exercises to induce a kind of meditative state. As gay as this sounds, it is actually amazing to do, and you almost instantaneously can produce reproductions of drawings that are jaw-droppingly good. By the end of it, you learn to "see" in right brain mode, which enables you to process visual information in a much different way. This is good for me, because I am one of the most verbal people I know, talking myself through the most menial tasks.

I am also working out of the book "250 Essential Chinese Characters" which teaches you exactly what it says it is going to teach you. Making Chinese characters is another right brain mode of operating, at least for me, and it turns words into pictures, which are whole units of thought. I like doing it, and it will give me a jump when I start taking the Chinese class at Cornell so I can finally finish that elusive undergrad degree.

"A Qin Bowei Anthology" is a collection of essays from one of the modern master physicians in China, and he was clearly a brilliant guy. This is another reason that I want to learn Chinese... everything I have learned so far has been translations of basic texts, and translations of the classics. All advanced clinical books are either by English speakers, or they are by Chinese who learned English. There are literally thousands of journal articles, essays, and books from the last 100 years that really bring Chinese medicine into the modern world, and right now, I can't read a whole hell of a lot of them.

"The Dead Zone" by you-know-who. At this point, I am a little ashamed to admit that if I am going to read fiction, it is most likely going to be graphic, or Stephen King.

"V for Vendetta:" After reading Watchmen, and From Hell, I have decided that Allen Moore is an unbelievable genius, and that his graphic novels are better than almost any other medium. V for Vendetta is definitely more comic book style, but still completely fuckin' fantastic.

We have seen a handful of movies that are worth checking out:

"Blood Diamond" had lots of child soldiers killing each other, and was good. "The Departed" was easily the best movie of the year. "Children of Men" was really interesting, mostly because of the shots you see through windows of moving cars, which is an unusual way to show stuff, but highly effective. "My Super Ex Girlfriend" was supposed to be a chick flick, but I think that I was stoned enough that it actually was very funny.

Alright, this is enough.

Angry Blogging

I am sure that this isn't a good idea; that there are some internet rules about this. I am sure that it is the kind of thing that I will only regret later.

That's right. I am going to write an angry rant about my wife. Here. For public consumption. And you know what? The only person who is going to read it is Mike White. So this is kind of like calling him and bitching to him, which would be something a normal friend would do. Anyway, back to the matter at hand.

My wife is pissing me off. Here's why:

She tries to get peace and quiet by being rude to me. At least, that is what it feels like. But seriously, let me ask you something: If the person who you care for the most is being short, bitchy, physically guarded, and generally unpleasant, what is your stock response?

For some, it might be to give that person space, room to breath. Maybe it would be compassion; some kind of open-ness, some kind of sympathy.

For me, I become a prick. I start by asking her what's wrong, over and over and over again, not accepting any short, bitchy, or generally unpleasant answers. Then, I tell her, "fine," and I pretend to leave for about forty five seconds or so, before I come back in the room, ready to pop off. Generally, I am full angry at this point, and I tell her all kinds of things about herself, most of it fairly unconstructive.

She responds with more general unpleasantness, the worst of all being eye-rolling, which pisses me off to absolutely no end. Anyone who thinks that rolling their eyes is a good way to get someone to leave them alone and stop pressing their point is sorely mistaken. In fact, the second I see those pupils disappear, I am officially going to continue arguing, if only to piss her off just a little more.

I think I should digress here: Andrea doesn't like to talk about stuff, I do. In general. That's not entirely true, of course. In an odd, slightly cruel gender reversal, all Andrea ever really wants to discuss at great lengths is pragmatics: we'll be here until then, when we will do this, at this time, and then this will happen, and then we will do that. I, on the other hand, am a wishy washy talk it out kind of a guy, and I always want to talk about my feelings. So sometimes this doesn't compute, obviously. In any case, our most deleterious pattern in our relationship is that I get pissed and talk talk talk, and she just sits there rolling her eyes at me.

But I don't understand why all you moody people out there don't get this: If you really want to be left alone, then DON'T ACT LIKE YOU WANT ATTENTION. People who really want to be left alone go off and are alone. They don't sit there making faces and generally acting like a two year old with a thunder cloud over their heads. Being rude is a good way to pick a fight, but it is an awful way to get space for yourself. Or, here's a thought: How's about you grow the fuck up? The world is a shitty, imperfect place, and maybe there isn't a whole lot of room for your bad mood; maybe you need to learn to suck it up, be an optimist. Maybe when shit turns really bad, that's the only choice you have: Suck it up, or don't. And if you choose "don't" then you start drinking, or you go on anti-depressants.

But whatever, I just can't let stuff go because I feel like my mom's body crapped out before I had a chance to resolve stuff with her. And, I have a broken relationship with the archetypal feminine because she was sick. Beyond that, my creative and growing identity was stifled by my stepmother's controlling tendancies, which caused me to rebel in a passive aggressive form of procrastination towards all things that I don't want to do.

My Dad is cool, though.

God, I miss drinking.

Seacrest, out.