You know those people whom you find fascinating, and with whom you wish you could spend loads more time, so you could really get to know them?
Now, imagine one of those people, after having spent a short while hanging out with you and chatting with you about this and thats, saying to you that you are fascinating and that that person appreciates having gotten to spend some time with and learn a little more about you.
Feels good, doesn’t it? 🙂
That was my tonight.
Post-a-day 2018
I just the other day had a conversation with a friend about physical attraction, specifically that I felt it was important to have physical attraction in a dating+ relationship to a certain degree, at least as an initial tug for interest in a person, whereas she felt it was not a necessity, but something more of a bonus, because a person could be attractive by other means, and therefore didn’t need any original physical attraction present.
The whole purpose was to get me to go dance with a guy she thought was cute, but whom I didn’t find cute, but we really got into discussion on it, finding that we agreed on all other aspects but the necessity of at least a spark of initial physical attraction.
And now, mere days later, I cross a situation quite similar to what we were discussing: A guy I did not initially find physically attractive, but whom – after seeing the person within him and how he acted – I now find attractive.
Granted, he’s only a character in a film, but it really has me thinking…
I felt as though there was actually something that sparked my interest the first time I saw him, though I would not have said that he was specifically handsome or my type or anything… just that I was intrigued…, and was that enough of what I had meant about initial physical attraction to have it turn into something more?
Or would I have felt the same way, even if I hadn’t had that initial little spark of interested physical attraction?
Just has me wondering…
Post-a-day 2018
I was avoiding the house this evening (because I am strongly opposed to the sad cop-like television shows and whatnot), and I did it by lying on the warm driveway, in full sunlight, with a water bottle under my back to stretch my chest.
With my arms and legs splayed a they were, I realize what propelled the dad to come ask me if I was feeling okay, when he and his wife and little kids were passing by on their evening walk… poor guy must have been really worried about the dead-looking girl on the driveway (directly in front of my car, I might add, possibly making it look like I’d been hit and left or something).
It really made me smile and the love that was present for me in the whole situation – the family cared enough to check on me, even though the dad was clearly embarrassed when he discovered that I was totally fine.
Cool, huh? 🙂
Post-a-day 2018
It is very difficult for me to ask people for things, to make requests of others. No matter the situation, no matter the request, it is always somewhat – if not extremely – difficult for me to make the request. Of course, people seem to feel as though I have a comfortable confidence when making these requests, and have admitted to me of having no knowledge of my difficulty in making requests. But that is simply because I make sure I am as ready as possible before making the requests. I am usually the only one present for the inevitable turmoil that precedes a request for me. Occasionally, my mother or best friend is around for part of the paranoia, and so they understand it a bit. However, most people have no idea what it takes for me to make the simplest of requests of them.
All of that being said, perhaps one could understand how devastating it can be for me when I am denied a request, especially one that I might have expected to have been granted easily enough. I am always so willing to receive requests from others, and yet I cannot practice what I wish to receive from others. I suppose I have just had a little too much rejection of sorts in the past, that I lack the confidence now.
Post-a-day 2018
I did it. I accomplished exactly what I’d wanted for today (and then some), and I cleaned out and cleared out that big box and its last 8%. And as nervous as I might have been about doing that – trust me, this getting rid of things I’ve had forever and resisted getting rid of for at least a decade has been an incredible strain on me. I mean, having all this stuff, exactly how it has been stored (a total mess), has been a huge part of my identity. I guess it was a big part of myself of which I wasn’t really proud, but that doesn’t make it any easier to clean it up and let it all go. I’ve never done anything so intense for myself as I am doing right now. (Not actively, anyway… Japan was tough, but I wasn’t actively seeking out all of that. I had no idea what was in store for me when I signed on for that job.)
That being said, I find that I’m almost more concerned about tomorrow’s events than any of this cleaning up and out stuff. I’m going to a sort of luncheon for people in the Texas and Oklahoma area who returned this past year from the same program in which I participated, the returnees. Something about it kind of terrifies me.
And I’m really not sure what it is…
Anyway, I’m going to do my meditation and painting I had planned for tonight. Sweet dreams, this half of the world (and good morning and afternoon to the other half). 🙂
Post-a-day 2018
I wrote a letter to Santa today. Well, I typed it. I 21st Century wrote a letter to Santa. I felt a bit odd at first, realizing how long it had been since I had written him, as well as the fact that I always just asked for things from him, but never offered him much, and never really got to know him. I realize that this is Santa, but it calls to mind how I might relate to others in my life. Have I taken the time I normally would want to take to get to know someone, or have I learned just to ask for things, because of that someone’s understood role in my life? How can I turn my unintentional and unnoticed selfish into selfless in my relationships with others?
Post-a-day 2017
I sent a message to a friend of mine the other night, after reminiscing on how beautiful it was, having him be in my life in Japan. He is still a quality friend now, despite our being worlds apart. Open forum was the standard for our time spent together, and life was discussed earnestly and with invested interest in stepping forward with fulfillment and joy. We supported one another in a way I have not really known before it. Our lives intertwined just enough to be able to relate to one another, but without conflict or jealousy. We became friends out of circumstances, but I couldn’t imagine a better friend to have been in his place this past year and a half.
These were our messages:
“I want you to know that I am extremely grateful for your friendship. I still regularly recall memories that remind me of how much of a blessing it was last year, having you in my life. Costco holds a warm spot in my life now, and it cracks me up that, of all places, Costco would have a warm spot. 😛 It was like things could feel normal for an evening, in the midst of the craziness that is figuring out life.”
“That was such a nice message to receive in the morning as I got out of the shower! Thanks for the message. I feel the same way about the friendship and how helpful it was and is while figuring out life!
It is funny how such an “ordinary” place like Costco can morph into something else like that”
Yes. Yes, it really is.
Post-a-day 2017
You know when people seem to ignore the question you ask, and instead answer a different one, one they assume you meant? And you know how you asked that question on purpose, because you wanted an answer to that question, not some other question? Yeah, I kind of want to punch people when they do this to me.
My mom and my best friend are the only ones who have a real shot at guessing whether and where I am going with an idea and questions I am asking about something, and they don’t even get it right all of the time. And they know this, so, if they think I might be leading somewhere specific with my question, they ask if I am doing that, and still answer my question. Other people don’t do that. And it makes me kind of want to punch them for it. Kind of…
Also, I can’t stand when people seem to be incapable of being straight about something. I ask a question, because I am seeking the answer to that question (see aforementioned explanation). Avoiding the answer or making up bull when the true answer is of actual importance is just plane crazy, and yet people like to do it a lot of the time, it seems. Ugh!
Also, when highly educated people misuse basic points of grammar, I have a sort of desire to throw a drink in their faces (the bad-grammar users), and rush away, disgusted. It’s dramatic, sure, but it’s a feeling that shows up somewhat often, nonetheless.
Anyway, I’ll go to sleep, now. I’ve had an annoying time with these few thoughts today (in addition to what felt like a million others), so I guess I just wanted to get them off my chest, in a sense…
Post-a-day 2017
Today, I was told that something I had done was “really scummy”. The truly unfortunate parts of this statement were the actions it was describing and the fact that they were falsely linked to me. Put another way, I did not do what the person claimed that I had done (the action that was then, by that same person, declared to be “really scummy”).
As I absorbed the words, I felt a sort of shock and denial. No, this person couldn’t be thinking straight – this must be coming from a state of panic of some sort. It makes no sense otherwise.
And yet, here I am, hours and hours later, still with an underlying desire to cry desperately. I did not do it. I did not do it. And I even took extra efforts ahead of time for the situation to go across as the exact opposite – I asked for help from all over to make sure what I would do would be fair and reasonable in every way possible. I did not behave in a “scummy” fashion, and I did not do what I was declared to have done.
That person’s words affect me nonetheless. To my dearest insides am I filled with a sense of desperation, sadness, shock, smallness. I was helping freely, voluntarily in a situation that desperately could use some help from me in particular, and the one being helped spat on me.
I do not know if I will remove the help from the table. Perhaps. I merely know that those words hurt and were inaccurate, making them hurt even more, making their effect last.
I already cried on the phone to my mom, which was a somewhat unexpected occurrence. While that cry was helpful, I still have an uneasy tightness within me, welling up, and dripping on my pillow in the form of salty water droplets.
***Oddly enough, this was in my bedtime reading tonight. How coincidental, right? 😛
Post-a-day 2017
hannah ananas 