I don't friend anyone on Myspace or Facebook unless I've known you in real life. It's not like I'm scared of strangers of anything, but it's hard enough getting to re-know people on such a limiting scale as a social networking site. Getting to know a new person would feel overwhelming.
On a similar note, I don't usually read someone's blog unless I know them. I think it's interesting what people write about, so even if you know them, they might surprise you. But if I don't knw you at all, it's hard to get interested in the inner workings of your life. But I have two exceptions to the blog reading rule. One is an author, Jonathan Carroll, whose books are really great. I fond out he had a blog too and have been following it for some time. He quotes people a lot, or his own works, but sometimes he writes really random passages about his daily observations, and it's clear why he writes for a living.
The other exception is the ferrett. One of my friends pointed him out to me and I've been reading him for a while. Often he cracks me up, and then sometimes I totally disagree with him. But he's rarely boring. I feel like I know him. More than that, if he had gone to Ripon, he'd have been a Tau. That's a compliment, at least from me. :) So the other day he asked for comments and I said hello for the first time. I don't expect him to show up here, as has millions of friends and my blog is no big deal. But maybe I can turn more people onto reading him.
Monday, March 23, 2009
Thursday, March 19, 2009
introspection
I never use the labels. Well, I did for a few posts, but then I stopped, when I realized I never remember what I used in previous posts, so lables will probably never matchup. I should work on that.
What I've been wondering about the last few days is this; what do people see when they look at me? When I was in college I read a really great story by Lorrie Moore called You're Ugly Too. I remember that the Professor and I loved it, while everyone else seemed offended by it. Of course, the two of us had grown up on the east coast and were living in the midwest, much like the main character, who had not a lot of good things to say about the midwest, so that makes sense. Anyway, there's a part where Zoe, the main character, is thinking about what it is about her that lets people recognize her when they see her. I wonder about that too.
But also, I wonder about friendships. I have friends that I think one way about, and they seem to have a different interpretation of our friendship than I do. And I wonder, what are they getting from me? Why are they happy to hear from me or see me, what am I doing that makes them want me as a friend? To be honest, I don't think I'm that great at the whole friend thing. I'm horrible at keeping in touch, for one thing. But I do think my closest friends know that I would be there for them in a pinch, even if we haven't talked in a while. I hope they know that anyway.
It's just a question of the differences between how we ourselves and how we are seen by others. Even in my marriage, I am constantly surprised that N sees good in me, so much so that he still loves me after seven years of seeing all my many faults. I have no idea who the person is that he thinks he is married to, but I often don't recognize myself in her. Thank God N does.
When I still considered myself a philosopher, this was one of my possible thesis topics. Odd then, that I can't even express it clearly here. It's come up again lately because circumstances in my life have really made me even more introspective than usual. Interactions with friends in the last few weeks really have me wondering about what they see, and how it matches up with what I know about myself. I think I know myself better than a lot of people do, but I just may be completely wrong about that.
What I've been wondering about the last few days is this; what do people see when they look at me? When I was in college I read a really great story by Lorrie Moore called You're Ugly Too. I remember that the Professor and I loved it, while everyone else seemed offended by it. Of course, the two of us had grown up on the east coast and were living in the midwest, much like the main character, who had not a lot of good things to say about the midwest, so that makes sense. Anyway, there's a part where Zoe, the main character, is thinking about what it is about her that lets people recognize her when they see her. I wonder about that too.
But also, I wonder about friendships. I have friends that I think one way about, and they seem to have a different interpretation of our friendship than I do. And I wonder, what are they getting from me? Why are they happy to hear from me or see me, what am I doing that makes them want me as a friend? To be honest, I don't think I'm that great at the whole friend thing. I'm horrible at keeping in touch, for one thing. But I do think my closest friends know that I would be there for them in a pinch, even if we haven't talked in a while. I hope they know that anyway.
It's just a question of the differences between how we ourselves and how we are seen by others. Even in my marriage, I am constantly surprised that N sees good in me, so much so that he still loves me after seven years of seeing all my many faults. I have no idea who the person is that he thinks he is married to, but I often don't recognize myself in her. Thank God N does.
When I still considered myself a philosopher, this was one of my possible thesis topics. Odd then, that I can't even express it clearly here. It's come up again lately because circumstances in my life have really made me even more introspective than usual. Interactions with friends in the last few weeks really have me wondering about what they see, and how it matches up with what I know about myself. I think I know myself better than a lot of people do, but I just may be completely wrong about that.
Thursday, March 12, 2009
Escape
I am getting away for a few days, which I desperately need, and going to the Cape at the end of this month. It's strange to know my mom won't be there. Also, I know that it won't be as relaxing as I need a vacation to be right now, because there are always pockets of drama to fall into wen you are there. It's unavoidable. But it's been almost a year and a hlf, so I need to go. N and I both need to getout of here for a bit and have a change of scenery. If you can lose something you never really had, then we just did, and it was a blow. So off to the crazy Cape with my crazy friends and relatives, hoping to heal.
Monday, March 9, 2009
what's wrong with me?
I have this thing about unhealthy relationships. Apparently I thrive on them. Okay, that's overstating it. I usually am very good at avoiding them. But there are a couple of examples that I cannot explain.
My friend B, for instance. He may or may not read this, but it wouldn't matter if he did. I think I can say, without fear of contradiction, that B and I have a seriously screwed up past. I won't go over the whole thing, except to say that we are both guilty of hurting each other through the years, and not just once. But he hurt me in a way that no one else ever has. He drew blood, emotionally, and it took me years to close the wound. And despite all that, I made up with him and continue to count him as a friend. (We hardly ever see each other or talk, but the potential is there...technicalities count.) And the thing is, when I sit down and really think about the worst times, I am still really angry. But I always find a way to justify having smoothed it over. Why? Why do I want to keep that pain so close?
The reason this is coming up now is that I realized another situation had come up that may have some things in common with the B situation. This time it's my ex, M. We dated in college for less than a year. It was a weird situation from the get go. I have never been able to get into his head, which was part of the problem. We were friends before the relationship, but neither his friend nor his girlfriend could get in. In any case, my theory is that he never wanted to date me in the first place. He was sick at the time, with an illness he has since recovered from. But he was young, it was his last year of college, and he wanted to have some fun. Trouble is, he has a conscience, like a good midwestern boy, and couldn't have fun without strings. So he sought out a relationship. This much I know straight from the horse's mouth. What I pieced together on my own is that the girl he really wanted wasn't available, and he knew I was interested, so there we were. This may or may not be true, but it helps my ego, believe it or not, to believe that the problem started before I was even involved.
Anyway, we dated. It was frustrating. I was coming off a relationship with a man who told me he loved me after two weeks, and was still telling me, even after I had run scared. (I married him later, thank God, but I digress.) M never told he loved me. We discussed it, but it was never the "right time" for him. Also he ignored me for large chunks of time. We mostly connected through sex.
Wow. I just read through that and it sounded horrible. There were some fun times. I enjoyed being with him. But he did withold himself from me, and in the end I couldn't live with that. After a suitable period, I wanted to be friends again. There were some other obstacles in the way, such as A and M not liking each other. So I didn't try to contact M until after A died. We spoke briefly, then he disappeared. Over the years, I have thought of him on and off, but never was able to reach him. Until one day, about a year ago, he showed up on Facebook. I tried to talk to him, and...nothing. When he finally does write back, it's curt and acerbic. His excuse is that I'm an ex. Really?
We dated over a decade ago. That alone should be enough to clean the slate. We were friends once, and our break up was amiable. Why are we still hanging on the "ex" factor? Also, our relationship didn't seem to mean much to him at the time, so why does it have to mean everything now? By the way, we are actually Facebook friends now, but he never responds to anything from me.
So of course the question comes, why am I so concerned about him not wanting to be friends with me? And the answer is, I don't know. N says that I can't stand it when people don't like me, which must be true of everybody, but doesn't explain it. I mean, there are other peope who don't like me, and I'm not concerned about them. But I think if I was once friends with somebody it seems weird not to be friends with them, even if they hurt me worse than anyone, or were once my boyfriend.
My friend B, for instance. He may or may not read this, but it wouldn't matter if he did. I think I can say, without fear of contradiction, that B and I have a seriously screwed up past. I won't go over the whole thing, except to say that we are both guilty of hurting each other through the years, and not just once. But he hurt me in a way that no one else ever has. He drew blood, emotionally, and it took me years to close the wound. And despite all that, I made up with him and continue to count him as a friend. (We hardly ever see each other or talk, but the potential is there...technicalities count.) And the thing is, when I sit down and really think about the worst times, I am still really angry. But I always find a way to justify having smoothed it over. Why? Why do I want to keep that pain so close?
The reason this is coming up now is that I realized another situation had come up that may have some things in common with the B situation. This time it's my ex, M. We dated in college for less than a year. It was a weird situation from the get go. I have never been able to get into his head, which was part of the problem. We were friends before the relationship, but neither his friend nor his girlfriend could get in. In any case, my theory is that he never wanted to date me in the first place. He was sick at the time, with an illness he has since recovered from. But he was young, it was his last year of college, and he wanted to have some fun. Trouble is, he has a conscience, like a good midwestern boy, and couldn't have fun without strings. So he sought out a relationship. This much I know straight from the horse's mouth. What I pieced together on my own is that the girl he really wanted wasn't available, and he knew I was interested, so there we were. This may or may not be true, but it helps my ego, believe it or not, to believe that the problem started before I was even involved.
Anyway, we dated. It was frustrating. I was coming off a relationship with a man who told me he loved me after two weeks, and was still telling me, even after I had run scared. (I married him later, thank God, but I digress.) M never told he loved me. We discussed it, but it was never the "right time" for him. Also he ignored me for large chunks of time. We mostly connected through sex.
Wow. I just read through that and it sounded horrible. There were some fun times. I enjoyed being with him. But he did withold himself from me, and in the end I couldn't live with that. After a suitable period, I wanted to be friends again. There were some other obstacles in the way, such as A and M not liking each other. So I didn't try to contact M until after A died. We spoke briefly, then he disappeared. Over the years, I have thought of him on and off, but never was able to reach him. Until one day, about a year ago, he showed up on Facebook. I tried to talk to him, and...nothing. When he finally does write back, it's curt and acerbic. His excuse is that I'm an ex. Really?
We dated over a decade ago. That alone should be enough to clean the slate. We were friends once, and our break up was amiable. Why are we still hanging on the "ex" factor? Also, our relationship didn't seem to mean much to him at the time, so why does it have to mean everything now? By the way, we are actually Facebook friends now, but he never responds to anything from me.
So of course the question comes, why am I so concerned about him not wanting to be friends with me? And the answer is, I don't know. N says that I can't stand it when people don't like me, which must be true of everybody, but doesn't explain it. I mean, there are other peope who don't like me, and I'm not concerned about them. But I think if I was once friends with somebody it seems weird not to be friends with them, even if they hurt me worse than anyone, or were once my boyfriend.
Tuesday, March 3, 2009
RN/ P.I.
Some weeks I spend half my time doing investigations. A resident gets a bruise, and often can't tell me what happened due to dementia, so I have to investigate. It's a state regulation thing, so I have to do it. But it basically consists of asking a bunch of nursing assistants, who have worked with that resident in the last 3-4 days, if they saw the bruise or anything that could have caused it. But if they ever do see a bruise, they are supposed to report it right away. So if I come callin 3 days later and ask if they saw it they are certainly going to say no. Maybe they did see it, and then got busy and forgot to report it. But these people fear authority and discipline like I fear...I don't know, giant spiders. The point is, they will never admit that they have seen it. And they will never admit that anything occurred that might have caused a bruise, because they didn't already report that. So I end up with 5 or 6 completely useless interviews and I have to come up with a conclusion on my own. Which is sometimes easy and sometimes not. The thing is, in most cases, I want to say, this person is old and ill and has delicate skin, and may even be on aspirin or coumadin...it's inevitable!! But they wouldn't like that. Now and then, like today, there is a bruise that really concerns me and has no obvious answer. Which means today will be a big investigation day. Bah!
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