I Don't Know
"Blessed are those who are not afraid to admit that they don't know something." - The Zahir by Paolo Coelho
One of my biggest pet-peeves is when people don't admit if they don't know something. I had a friend like that. There were times when it was obvious he wasn't following me and yet he'd simply nod and act like he was completely following me.
I find this to be true for both men and women, but for different reasons. Men are too macho and it's not "macho" to admit that you may not know something. Women are too scared to look stupid, expecially when they talk to someone who isn't. It drives me absolutely bonkers in both cases. Fact is, won't you stay stupid if you never admit you don't know something and thus never ask and never learn?
Somehow I misses the memo that said it was embarrassing to ask questions. I ask shit all the time to everyone. First of all, I find people like talking about stuff they know. Secondly, they love when they have the opportunity to teach you something. It makes them look good. So there's an opportunity for you to learn something AND to make the other person feel good.
Why, exactly, would you pass that up?
Also, why does not knowing something make you look stupid? None of us know everything and we could all learn from each other if only we weren't afraid to ask.
So, next time you have the opportunity to learn from someone. Seize it.
And then let me know,too, so I can learn!
Life
I know it's lame to stop writing a few days after "I'm back" from a break. But it seems things conspired to get in the way. First, my in-laws came to visit for the first time in seven months. This meant we were out all day and not on the computer when we were home. It also meant that Jake and I went on our first dates since David was born. It was weird being out alone. It felt like we were sneaking. I did miss David a lot even though we were only gone for about 2 hours and it was while David was sleeping. I just kept thinking of him and his smile and his breathing.
The night after my in-laws left, David began his weird waking-up-in-the-middle-of-the-night thing which is still going on. But just to add more fun to the adventure, I threw out my back for the first time since we came to San Diego. The whole time I was pregnant, I was worried about my back suddenly starting to hurt again. I was worried I wouldn't be able to hold David as a baby and burp him. I was worried I'd be stuck in bed while everyone else held him and hugged him. Well none of that happened. I was perfectly, completely, totally fine. No real back-ache to speak of.
A week ago, something felt funny as I bent down and since then I haven't been able to stand up without excruciating pain. Last time this happened, I was on Vioxx for almost two years and I did a lot of physical therapy and acupuncture for it to get better. Well, now Vioxx is off the market, I am nursing and I can't take any medication. Except for Tylanol which I only let myself take twice a day since I don't want to medicate David. Without the medicine to take off the edge of the pain, life's been a ton of fun. Hence sitting at the computer hasn't been one of my favorite activities lately.
Hence the no updates. Forgive me yet?
I am hoping that my stupid back will miraculously heal itself since I am determined not to take any pills and have a long long way to go before I am ready to stop nursing (think months in teens not in single digits) so cross your fingers for me and hope that the pain goes away as mysteriously and quickly as it came.
The good side of the pain has been that I've been in bed more and thus reading more. And my mother in law bought me six new books for my past birthday. I just finished _Running with Scissors_ which, while nothing compared to _A Million Little Pieces_, was still a very engrossing read. I am now reading the new Paolo Coelho book. He's always an interesting and worthwhile read for me. As always, open for any and all recommendations.
Special Day
Monday was my birthday.
It seems there are those who make a big deal of their birthday and those who prefer to completely ignore it. I have always belonged to the former category. I come from a family which makes big deals out of birthdays and I subscribe to the idea. It's not really because birthdays themselves are all that special. To me, it's just an excuse to stop and appreciate that person.
Sure we should treat each other like we're special every day, but fact is life gets in the way. Most days are ordinary and we do our thing and try to treat others with kindness (unless we're grouchy) but the day passes on and we sit in front of our computers, read our books, watch TV and do all the other things we do to spend time. I don't know many people who regularly take the time to acknowledge the people in their lives. Most people don't even work too hard to keep up with their friends. So that's the point of birthdays, for me.
It's an excuse to remind someone how much they mean to you. A reason to stop and think of them and dedicate a few or a lot of your time that particular day to them. So even if all the other days come and go, you know that on that day you'll feel special and talk to all the people you love and take a moment.
For those of you who whine about getting older, I'd hate to break the news to you but you get older every single day. Nothing magical happens on the eve of your birthday to make you older. So stop being whiny on the morning of your birthday about that. Life isn't about your age, it's about how you've used your days. There are people who live empty lives for 80 years and those who live full ones for only 30. Which would you rather have?
This year was particularly peaceful for me. I woke up feeling exceptionally happy for no reason. David woke up to eat at 3am but then went back down until 6:30. I worked, I prepared for my shoot on Tuesday, I cooked and pureed David's food. We played and talked and my family called and my friends called and my friends emailed and it was wonderful. Jake bought me presents. We went to eat an early dinner with good food and delicious dessert. It was very ordinary and very magical all in one. I realized on Monday that I am truly happy. I cannot remember feeling this peaceful in years. If ever.
It really was a perfect birthday and thank you for all the good wishes. 31 is looking fantastic so far.
Irresistible Irving
I have been a John Irving fan from the first book I read. I can't even remember who told me about A Prayer for Owen Meany but I do remember that people stopped me to praise the book when I was reading it. I had the library hardcover and people of all ages commented on it. Old women, teenagers. It was their favorite book.
And they were right. If you haven't read A Prayer For Owen Meany make sure to do so. It's fantastic. I went on a total Irving kick after that. I read The World According to Garp, Hotel New Hampshire, The Water-Method Man, Cider House Rules, Setting Free the Bears, The 158-Pound Marriage, A Widow for One Year, and all the others I could get my hands on. I read The Fourth Hand as soon as it came out (though that one wasn't my favorite). I've read them all, except for Son of the Circus. There's something about Irving's writing that I adore. It might be that he emulates Dickens and Davies, who are two of my favorite authors. It might be that I feel for his twisted, tragic characters and his endless plots.
I started his latest novel almost two weeks ago. A novel never takes me this long to read. Not even an 800-page one. For some reason, I took my time with this one. I even read another novel in between and listened to three others. But I kept coming back to it. I wasn't giving up on Irving. I knew I was going to fall into the story at some point.
Two nights ago, I did.
It took my two weeks to read 450 pages and two days to read the next 250. I have about 80 pages left and I am not sleeping until I finish this story. It's at the point where the entire novel turned on itself and I cannot wait to see the ending and find out what happens to Jack Burns. I now think about it constantly. I feel like I know the characters in real life. To me, only the best books can accomplish that. It's an especially amazing feat for Irving whose characters are people I'd be completely unlikely to know in this life or in any other. I still do. I feel like I know them. I feel like they are living, breathing people.
While a part of me is dying to finish the story finally, another part of me will be so disappointed when it's over. When these people won't be there to greet me each night.
If you've never read Irving, make sure to pick up a book of his. Start with Owen Meany or, if you haven't seen the movie, Cider House Rules. They are simply fantastic. Storytelling at its best.
Amnesia by Choice
Let the bitching begin.
Two weeks ago a friend and I were talking on the phone. Out of the blue, the conversation turned ugly and he started asking me weird questions and getting increasingly angry/demanding. I had no idea where this was coming from and tried to take it with a grain of salt and even apologized for actions that weren't wrong. I tried to soothe him but it was no go. He didn't realize how upset he was and wouldn't admit to being angry. After a while more of unloading on me, he hung up.
A few days later, he called me back and chatted away like nothing happened. At first I was taken aback and wondered whether I imagined the whole thing. I considered bringing it up myself but I didn't want to rehash any of the issues so I left it alone and decided to wait. He and I talk several times a day so I figured it would eventually come up.
Here we are two weeks and at least ten conversations later and the issue never ever came up again. None of: "I'm sorry , I don't know what came over me." or "I must have been losing my mind." or "Other stuff was making me upset, I am sorry I took it out on you." I would have apologized but honestly, I hadn't said a word and this wasn't an argument as much as it was his unloading on me. So I went from flabbergasted to fuming.
I can totally understand that we all have bad days and times when we're overly stressed. I can alos understand that we often take it out from those closest to us. But there's no excuse for not acknowledging such an occurence. I was quite hurt, sad, and worried after that exchange and his not acknowledging it makes me feel like all the actions were justified. Even if he'd called me and continued to yell at me, I would have prefered that over lets-act-like-nothing-happened. WTF?
People and actions like that irk me. We all fuck up at times but let's be a man (to use a really stereotypical phrase) about it. There's nothing wrong with calling a good friend and apologizing. There's a lot to be respected in humility and candor. And there's no fucking thing to be proud of in feeling like if we don't ever bring it up, it will be like it never happened. It did happen. Even if you want to act otherwise.
I am not waiting for an apology or even an explanation. I am happy to and already have forgiven him. I just want him to acknowledge it so I don't feel like my feelings aren't worthless to him. Mayne it's asking for too much but I cannot stand acting. I like things out in the open. I like honesty. I like candid. Bring it on. If you put it out there, we may be able to resolve it. If you don't, we never will.
What I Missed the Most
It's been almost two months since my last entry. I've had this site on and off for five years. I wasn't sure if I was going to miss writing this time. There are times when writing here is fun and times when it feels more like a chore. In the months preceding the closing, it had become more like the latter. Each night that I went to bed without updating, I'd feel like I let someone down. Fact is, I have few readers, but I still felt like shit. Which is why I stopped.
I wasn't sure if I was going to miss any of it. I haven't been taking photos (except of David) and I have just begun sleeping again and my days are filled with David, work, a new small business, reading, and, of course, Jake. I figured my life was full enough.
But I did miss it.
From the day I turned ten to Freshman year in college, I kept a diary every single night. Many people asked me how I found something to write each night. I just did. I liked writing every day. It was my thing. That's sort of how I feel about this place. I want to make sure it never goes away. Since college, I've attempted to keep diaries many times and it just never worked. When David was born, I promised myself (as I did when I found out I was pregnant) that I would keep a written record. I have managed to take photos every day he's been alive (except day three) but I have three failed attempts at writing. Whatever little I've written here is the most I've written anywhere.
So I am going to keep writing. I can't promise it will be consistently, but I am going to try hard. I won't post photos when I don't have them but I also won't let that stop me from posting. I will try to write a tidbit about David each day, more for me than you, I'm putting it in a different section so if you don't want to read it, feel free to skip it. Sometimes the David section might be longer than the main section, but not usually. Once I start taking regular photos again, I will post those too. At least that's the plan. And we know what happens to best laid plans.
So there we are. This is the closest thing I got to my childhood diaries. And I miss writing down my ideas. I miss talking about my random thoughts. I miss sharing my emotions. I miss recording my life. The everydayness of my life.
But, mostly, I missed the bitching. So expect some whiny posts coming soon.
Thank you for sticking around.
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