In Which Carnita Reflects Upon a Distressing Week of Ugly Patterns and Asks the Universe What It All Means

I am having trouble figuring out where to start with this one, so I'll just go. Organization be damned.

How about starting with a few things that are going well? Here are some:

I've crested a hill at work that I've been struggling to get over and that has kept me from writing much. This is a happy circumstance.

Things are still progressing nicely and at a sane pace with Peter; he and I have been swapping e-mails since I visited him, we have talked on the phone several times, and we have plans to see each other in my town--and in my bed with its new micro-suede comforter--this weekend.

I am thoroughly enjoying my apprenticeship with Gwen the jeweler, and a pretty significant-seeming friendship seems to be developing there, as well.

I fall more in love with my roommates all the time, and we are getting along swimmingly, as far as I can tell. Valerie is getting herself set up in our basement, and I am excited that she is excited. Harvey is as delicious as ever, and we keep ending up laying in beds together or giving each other massages. My only worry is that the depth and nature of my feelings for Harvey rather outpace the practical demands of our living situation, but we'll put that in brackets for now, over somewhere to the far left of the main plot line. The basic gist is nothing negative at all and therefore should not be too troublesome at this juncture: just that I notice that he is the only man in my life who makes me light up in a certain way, that when he is near I feel like he is just about the most fascinating and beautiful person in the world, that I crave his company, that I want to do things for him and take care of him whenever I can, and that I catch myself staring at him and wanting very much to touch him just about anytime he is around. His presence is perhaps more, um, physically and emotionally stirring than it used to be, but not unnervingly so. I find myself getting very anxious sometimes about the imminent possibility that he will find a partner who will sweep him away from me, and when I imagine this hypothetical woman, I feel violent towards her. I don't think that all of these things necessarily add up to some coherent whole that must be addressed in any particular way, but the take-away fact of the matter is that I love him hopelessly.

The three of us have decided to endeavor to quit smoking together. Harvey is way ahead of Valerie and me, but we have a soonish quit date in mind. I hope that we succeed.

I am arriving back at the desire to study martial arts again after only a month's official hiatus. I am still deciding whether to go back to the school this month or the next one.

Things about which I am ambivalent, or things that have created in me a mix of negative reactions and the sense of positive growth are as follows:

Gwen and I have been struggling to understand and get to know one another. We had something almost like an argument a few nights ago, but we resolved it and came to a better sort of relationship contract. It would be hard to describe it without going off on an enormous tangent. The friendship issues don't seem to interfere with our master/apprentice relationship in the studio.

I have to make a decision pretty soon about whether I will journey to Vietnam to teach English next summer. I also don't want to get too far into that backstory, but I can summarize by saying this: I don't particularly want to leave my life in my wonderful little mountain town at all, but my debt situation is such a pressing concern that the long-term trade-off of making enough money to eliminate my biggest financial problems may be enough to get me on that plane.

And finally, things that have been straightup nasty:

The friend of mine who has been around in my life for longer than anyone else--since we were twelve or thirteen--gave me a big, dramatic "fuck off" a few nights ago. Actually, her words were, "Blow it out your hipster ass," and then later, "Go slit your throat." She still has no coherent explanation for this sudden outburst of hatred except to claim that I am an "arrogant bitch." You can see why it is difficult to have a rational conversation with this woman, and why the story of our "friendship" has involved a lot of one-sided ick in which I abide by all my usual rules of engagement, but somehow, she is free to say and do whatever the fuck she wants. I grew out of the relationship long ago, but the shit hitting the fan all of a sudden and so dramatically was a little disquieting. (Peter's counsel about the matter seemed sound: it is easy in our culture to allow ourselves to imagine that abuse and love can coexist. They cannot. Stop imagining that they do, and you are one step closer to a sort of freedom.)

Two weeks or so ago, Caleb yelled at me over the phone for over an hour (about a comment I made that was somewhat inflammatory but for which I had apologized profusely) until I could sufficiently calm his insecurities into a seated position. We parted on an okay note, and he apologized. I did too, because I was sincerely sorry that we had fought over something that should have been more easily resolvable. This week, however, he dished out his issues to me for several hours and very much appreciated the swift kick in the ass that he got. We still have not seen each other, and I am not at all worried about it. I will fuck him no more forever. (Maybe.)

Two nights ago, a guy who works at a local club (who had captured my interest, but not the sexual sort, at an earlier time) came to my house after a show and got very irritated that I did not want to make out with him. He then felt the need to totally lay into me with a detailed criticism of the type of girl I am...saying, in not so many words, that I was a cock tease. I felt terrible about how I responded to the situation, that I had basically clammed up and failed to speak up for myself because I was tired and got triggered by how much repetition of the theme of nasty criticism that the universe seemed to see fit to bring into my life all week. I told him to leave, and it all felt just awful. I called him today and apologized, only for the fact that I had shut down so suddenly and possibly that I had not made my intentions sufficiently clear, but he was still completely firm in his resolve to stand on an untenable position. It felt only a little less awful, and only a bit more clear. Now I have an outstanding awkward situation with the person who sits at the door of one of my favorite bars. Yeesh.

For our last installment of ickies this week, I bring you the OKCupid Super Douche Without a Photo whose nasty comments fell perfectly out of the sky on the day after this thing with Bouncer Dude. (Suspicious? I am.) Our correspondence went like this:

Me (days before, after he shows up on my visitor list): Hmmm....I'm intrigued.

Him: I'm not. You seem like the typical [name of my town] cock-tease who is seeking an alpha who won't complain about your hairy pussy and armpits. We look at it occasionally for a larf of course. Give [name of other high match on OKC] another try, unless he's still on the 17 year old girl kick.

Me (not my finest moment): Poor thing. You actually have to LIVE with yourself. I hope the view from inside your ass, where your head seems to be stuck, is better than the one in the mirror. And if you're some douchebag who already knows me and doesn't have the nerve to say this to my face...well....I'm just so sorry for you. Poor baby.

[If I had it to do over again, I would have probably replied with something simple and clever and not so fucking reprehensibly compromising to my entire value system, like, "Oh pishposh, you must say that to all the girls."]

Him: Oh, the elite doth pity me! How it burns! The 30s roll ever on. You're not getting any younger and the men you want aren't getting any more attached. But no, it's everyone else. Couldn't be you.

Me: Elite? Would that it were so. Alas. You're right about one thing, though: it is actually me who draws that boundary. I am not at all interested in the sort of folks of my generation who are prone to get attached, and I have no desire to be attached. Needy, clingy, emotionally unstable, jealous incompetents who want monogamy, want to live with me or have children, and worst of all, suck in bed. No thanks. I'll take single with friendly joytoys status over that shit any day. I bet you'd be fun for an angry tumble if it weren't for how almost certain I am that you must either 1. be ugly, 2. be someone I already know, and/or 3. have intense mommy/ex-girlfriend issues. Otherwise, keep stoking that fire, baby. ;)

....So. There have been other little instances in the past few weeks of my seeming inability to get a hold of myself and get the fuck out of the USS Idiot Bitch even as the P.A. is screaming, "The ship is sinking! Abort! Abandon the vessel!" Nevertheless, a tiny part of me must admit that I sometimes believe the horribly cynical things I fired off in that last message.

I am exhausted with all these people and with the person that these situations keep turning me into. I think I'll do best, for the time being, to stick to what I know I love and loves me back. I hope that this little rumble doesn't indicate a more general trend of fucking shit up that awaits me. I am aware of it now, and I realize that I need to practice mindfulness in a much more intentional way, seeing as my actions seem to keep having so many unintentional results. I know that I am never as powerless as I may feel, but damn, I really feel weak and small right now. It's time to nestle into my cocoon and start becoming a motherfucking butterfly, bitches.