I'm writing this from the office as the day dies down and I wait for the last set of minutes to wring itself out of the workday. After this, I'm going to go get my roommate (one of them) from the airport. How do I describe my life now? How do I even sum it up, considering the huge gaps of absence there have been in this blog? Impossible to think that I've been writing in this since 2002. Impossible, almost, to consider how much has changed. I'll give it a shot.
Erica and I dissolved in a way that I really didn't want it to. I know that she's dating someone else now and I'm very glad, because hopefully they're better than her and I were. We did have some really wonderful times, but overall, we just weren't right for each other. It doesn't mean I don't want her to be happy. I want most people to be happy.
I haven't dated anyone since then because it was a bit of a rough deterioration that burned a bit. Nursed the wounds but they're still around, and I'm worried for how long. I find myself with my romantic guard up more often, because I don't want to repeat it. It's so absurd, the notion of not getting in a relationship because you don't want to get hurt. I was always the proponent of damning the torpedoes and going ahead, because love is about taking risks. But I find myself peeking between my gloves, fists balled up, muscles tight with tension. I'm still burning from that learning curve, but that's life. I'll relax soon.
I live with 5 other people and it's amazing. We're all quite different, and range from a non-profit lawyer to a dog-walker/artist to a design student who builds entire rooms in our house. We're in a great location and I couldn't ask for a better living situation. The nights are full of laughter and debate, and the days are full of music because I wear my headphones in at work all the time. The job is OK. The city itself is beautiful.
Last week I was in Colorado, up in the hills. My family + extended family were there. Annie came up and visited, and it's always super-nice to see her. I'm glad she's in my life still, and we're destined to be good friends, of course. I then went to Denver for a quick two days and tried to see as many friends as I could. I spent some time on Capitol Hill, spent some time in Aurora, and spent some time with my dog, Lucca, who now has developed a thin sheen of silver in front of his eyes and a limp that has lasted over a year. He seemed to have aged over 5 years since the last time I saw him, which wasn't 5 years ago. It was one. He's a pet-store dog. It breaks my heart.
A few weeks ago, one of my roommate's sisters and her husband arrived at our house in a bus that they had bought and renovated. This:
We travelled up the coast and ended up in Portland. I had to fly back home for work that Monday morning, but the rest of the crew kept going. I re-united with them in Colorado, which was excellent.
It's but one slice of my new life that has had a series of ups and downs. I'm lucky to live in San Francisco, which is a beautiful city. I've seen so many amazing concerts since I've been here (with a nod to my previous hyperactive fandom of Sigur Ros, I did see them at the Greek Ampitheater. Both prior shows were better). I finally got to see The Real Tuesday Weld live. I stood atop a hill at 2 in the morning with the warm night batting at my clothes as they snapped in the wind with a 360-degree view of the city. I bathed in rivers and slept in parking lots. I have a job oppertunity that would make me a lot of money. I befriended a cat and loved it until almost the last hour of its life. I've gained and lost countless crushes. I've won at badminton multiple times. I've laughed so hard that I've cried. I dressed up as Beetlejuice with my roommates being Lydia and a sandworm. I've bought a lot of records. I've been going to the gym for 6 months, 4 times a week.
Having gone back over this blog tonight, I thought I'd finally update. The me that was writing at the start was perhaps a bit more flexible and fiery. At the moment, I am more meloncholy. I'm a used book store with a comfortable dog in it. I'm a stretch of steel cables over intersections, soaking in the sun on languid afternoons. I'm a poem that thinks it was done being written but it isn't. I guess I'm getting up.
Sometimes my life feels like faint piano music down a hallway, echoing inside rooms of a house you'll never see. I would like to be a thumping speaker against the chest. I would like to be my best. I'm having, however, a bit of a time figuring out what the best of me currently is, or what I am at all.
I miss a lot of things, and love a lot of things, and I guess that's the way it is.
It's my birthday soon.
love,
jared