taking cues

Do you ever notice that when you’re talking to different people, you talk slightly differently with each one? Or maybe with a certain group, it’s different from the next.

Do you ever notice that you’ve picked up some of their speaking habits, inflections, pet phrases?

At first, I thought it was high school again when I was accused of trying to be someone else, because I was unconsciously emulating my (I thought then) closest friend.

Then I realized what I think is a lovely* thing: I have a bit of every one in me and every one has a bit of me.

I guess, then, that when we find our bits that match, we use those bits to communicate. Only usually, the only way to find it is take cues from the other person.

*On another note, they have to make up new words for “wonderful” because it’s just been used so many times that it appears to lose meaning. All the other words in the Thesaurus don’t seem appropriate. “Lovely” is the closest I could get, here, but it doesn’t quite fit either.

That is not to say that it isn’t wonderful that wonderful is used so much, because that would mean that there is so much that is wonderful to speak about!

adversity

I have been laughing at myself a lot lately. It’s truly refreshing. I don’t remember when the changeover happened, but at some point in the past week or so, I stopped being so embarrassed and feeling the need to apologize for myself. Maybe not completely, but there was a huge shift.

I used to despair over what other people would think of my mistakes and what they would think of me because of those mistakes, which were usually very small. Now I just laugh.

It’s very strange and new and thinking about it makes me laugh even more. From time to time, I wonder if I’m suppressing something I’m not supposed to, but wondering that makes me smile, almost giddily… that I’m almost positive that this is something positive.

So, just a few minutes ago, I was being the careless klutz that I am and making a mess and laughing at myself yet again. I whispered to the klutz, “There are only two possibilities… that I’ve become so mature that I’ve learned how to deal with diversity… Diversity? Di…. hahahaha… ADversity… how to deal with adversity through laughter! Haha… Either that or I’ve finally gone completely mad.”

I really don’t think it’s the latter. I’m sure most would agree that that’s happened long ago.

because it needs to be written

He was born out of wedlock, but his parents were in love with so much conviction that everything that was “wrong” about their relationship: that they were too young, that his father was younger than his mother, that they didn’t know each other all that well… none of that kept them from getting married.

It wasn’t with quite as much conviction a few years later when his mom emerged as the dominant half of the couple. His dad would be the childish one, who didn’t take many things seriously, and it frustrated and angered his mom. And so she would scream and yell and because he was his father’s son, he got screamed and yelled at too.

It was probably not either one’s fault. They just didn’t fit together as well as they thought, and maybe they didn’t think it was an option to admit it.

Ten or eleven years old, his dad leaves. He’d found someone new. His mom is shattered, but she struggles to keep him fed and clothed and clean. Still, she’s impatient and frustrated and still she screams and yells.

She may have found some peace as a single parent. Maybe she realized that she didn’t need to scream and yell.

It was almost four years that it had been just the two of them, when she died suddenly.

It was a matter of great deliberation for his maternal relatives as to where he would be brought up… with them or with his dad. He agreed that his mom would not want him to live with his dad because his paternal relatives had a tendency to spoil him, but he said that it couldn’t happen because she’d taught him well.

So now he lives with his paternal grandparents. His dad visits every so often. He hardly ever goes to see his mother’s family. When he does, he is distant and seems to be itching to go home. He seems to have changed in the short span of time he’s lived away from them.

On the day they were to bury his mother’s ashes, he asked to reschedule on account of a rehearsal for some school presentation. It was discovered the following week, that there was no such rehearsal.

At a casual dinner out, in honor of a close family friend, when all but two were done eating, he announced that he’d asked to be picked up by his grandfather. His grandfather was to drive about an hour from the area where he lives, pick him up at the restaurant and drive the hour back to the same area, where he was to play video games with an uncle.

—

They’re afraid he’s too old to learn.

You’re never too old to learn and you’re never too old to find a willingness to learn.

If only he knew to look. If only I knew how to tell him.

Help.

singing

Karaoke. Sitting around in the living room. Beer and friends.

There’s an amazing energy here. I can’t help but smile.

We may not be aware of it, but with all the songs sung together (some that we didn’t even realize we knew every word to) our souls are connected.

Listening to A and E singing a duet. They’ve been together over a year now. They’re both really good singers. It makes you see how much in love they are, watching them have fun with it. The happiness in their voices is unmistakable.

I love seeing couples looking lovingly into each other’s eyes when they’re not even aware of it. Not staring, not being all lovey dovey and sickening just happening to look at each other… you can almost see a cloud around them, binding them together despite its being insubstantial.

The cloud is gone in a second, but you know that the bond is there, you can feel it in the way they share the mic.

Envy. I don’t want to call it that. I am truly happy that they have each other. It’s a beautiful thing to have, that bond.

You know how something really good happens to you, you hope that everyone gets to feel that feeling?

I think that’s how it feels for them. Maybe they don’t even know it right now. They’re probably used to it already. But it’s that kind of feeling, it’s that good.

And I want to feel it.

Envy. That, but not that. Like I said, I don’t want to call it that.

Maybe I’m bitter. But I’m not. I’m happy for them… but.

Maybe it’s thinking again that it’ll make life better, easier to take, if I had someone to sing with.

I hate that it’s seems to be such a thing to me, that it affects me so much, albeit not too often.

It’s a nice thing, I think, to want to have someone you can sing with. But to want it so much that you can’t think straight, that can’t be right.

It should be on a list, but it shouldn’t be the priority.

I think I’m growing more and more bitter about the fact that I’m even thinking about this. This can’t be good.

I think I’m going to go sing.

slowly

Regarding the previous post, I was told, “I think it’s wonderful that you are giving yourself that gift lately.”

Amid all the self-doubt and apprehension about not being “properly” employed, it’s easy to forget that maybe this is the pace I’m supposed to be keeping for this course.

I need to really believe that I’ll come out better if I don’t rush and worry too much. There are piles of things to do, but they’re surely diminishing, how ever slowly.

I may not be proud of having spent an hour on YouTube watching Yaris commercials, but I am proud of having made two dishes of baked spaghetti, washed, dried and folded laundry, and done some work for a freelance client. I accomplished something today.

And that’s something to be thankful for, how ever slowly.