Reminisces (Moving: Day 4)

The weirdest things come out when traveling with parents for an extended period of time. Exasperation regarding their dependency of relying on the GPS system's directions when the road sign clearly confirms that we are, in fact, exactly where we want to be. Learning that a parent credits our grandparents with the quality of our family's grandchildren when, in fact, the grandparents in question are assholes and the parents in question are quite sound. Seeing my mother's external self-hatred and re-realizing the roots of my depression.

Perhaps the weirdest outcome of tonight... New Year's Eve, 2011, is that I revealed I had been roofied by a bartender who both of my parents had met. The incident was years ago. I don't even know why I told them. Maybe just to be a little better known by the people who should (but don't) know me best.

Being known. Important. Fresh starts? I actually don't believe in them. It all builds, and if we acknowledge our past and learn and grow from it, we're healthier for that recognition.

So perhaps that's what this post is about. Acknowledging that these things... they have happened. I am committed to doing even better during each iteration, which includes acknowledging the people I love can annoy and let me down, people can abuse me, and that I feel a pressure to be better than I've been to date. Sharing my successes and failures with those who accompany me through the process... I guess that makes sense.

Shifting the focus (Moving: Day 2)

As mentioned in previous posts, I am in the process of moving from job-searching (based in Seattle, WA, and Atlanta, GA) to my new job (in Northeast New Mexico). I am also transitioning from being a graduate student (in Laramie, WY) to the afore-mentioned job.

A lot of my most recent focus has been relief. Relief that I have something lined up after a such a long (four months) period of uncertainty, joblessness, and lack of a paycheck (= relying on my parents in my mid-30s. Doesn't feel good. AND I'm so grateful for them). The relief of having secured a position, of signing a contract, has been so welcome that I have actually dropped the ball on other goals I'd set for myself that had been anxiety-based.

Moving sucks (Moving: Day 1)

'Moving sucks...' like that's new information. Quick list of today's suckitude:

1. Leaving at 3:50 a.m. Which meant that I had to wake up at 3:00 a.m.

2. Yowling cat.

3. Realizing before my dad wanted me to take a driving shift that I had packed my driver's license (and debit card. And my mother's Sam's card) somewhere in the moving van. (Upside? Found it when I opened my first box!!)

4. Realizing I offended/hurt my mother to the point of tears when I jokingly referred to her as a 'nervous passenger' (although she is!!). She spent the rest of the day offering to drive, but revoking the offer because "I know it would drive you two crazy."

5. Having someone try to steal our trailer while we had a family dinner at Chili's.

It's over now. and mom and dad and I had quality family time. Or something. Now I'm going to refresh my glass of wine and go to bed.

The last time I moved across the country in winter

I have moved or helped others move across the country nine times. Next week (make that tomorrow) my parents and I will make that number a solid '10' when we leave Georgia, cat in tow, to head to New York and remove most of my worldly possessions from storage in Brooklyn, and then head back west to New Mexico. There I hope to establish a new and somewhat... I don't know... adult? respectable...? life.

The seventh time I crossed the country was on behalf of a friend and her lab/german shepard mix who were moving from Athens, GA to Denver, CO. In the winter. We left two days before the New Year of 2007, in H's rear-wheel-drive truck with a U-Haul trailer loaded with her household fixings with which she would establish her new home. Assuming we made it there.

I had lived in Laramie, WY for eight years by that point and was somewhat familiar with winter driving. Not saying I was good at winter driving as I had spun out on ice (no injuries to self or auto) twice prior to our journey, but as H was a Georgia native, it made sense for me to drive when things got snowy.

And things got very snowy.

On Semantics (#1: Systems)

Over dinner tonight, my father disagreed with my use of the word 'system' to describe our military and the global method used by nations to sometimes settle disputes (more specifically, war). At first I was surprised and would have inquired about his objection further, but these days dad tends to steer clear from conflict in discussions regarding politics. He had already changed the subject by the time I thought to ask, "What word would you use?"

During our ride home, I realized that our disagreement was probably more one of semantics rather than an actual disagreement (although I'll never know as I can't imagine that we'll revisit the conversation). There is a very good chance that my father interprets the word 'system' differently than I do, and that if we had identified a more concise definition rather than relying on a word, which can have different meanings to both of us, we might have come to a better understanding of the other's' view.

So many arguments can be started by misunderstandings. Arguments can be avoided if we take the time to communicate our thoughts or arguments clearly, or prevent ourselves from jumping to conclusions... using our own meanings to blanketly interpret another's words, instead of really trying to understand what the person is trying to say.

So the following is my part of the conversation I wish I could have had with dad.

Some things never change.

Like many I know, I love Matthew Weiner's Mad Men. I love the analysis of gender issues in the series, the portrayal of the different eras, the character development (it is so crazy that they help us find a way to sympathize with even the biggest douchebags) and looking at time periods usually idealized through less forgiving eyes.

Two Christmases ago I gave my parents the first two seasons of Mad Men. I am thrilled that they love the show as much as I do and love hearing their reactions to the show.

However, I do not think I will ever, ever feel comfortable sitting through sex scenes with my parents. Ever.

A piece of a part of the process

When I was a kid I believed that being an adult would be cool because adults had everything figured out. Transitioning from child- to adulthood would be a categorical shift, fundamentally different, and, once reached, a state of easier living characterized by knowing how to handle challenges as they arose. Although being that together seemed intimidating as I was a somewhat fearful child and couldn't imagine how one achieved that adulthood togetherness, I looked forward to the shift because hey- who wouldn't want to be that contained, composed, and confident.

Graduate school relieved me of that delusion. College was fun for me, and my first true academic challenge was getting accepted into a Ph.D. clinical psychology program (a tough life pursuit, by the way... I'm not sure I'd recommend it). Once I enrolled in my graduate program, though, I figured my academic pursuits would be a downhill stroll.

They weren't...