My Tent on The Beach

There are days when I miss my old blog.  It’s still there…you can go look at it…it’s the first Beach Tent, akin to the tent you get from Good Will when you’re just trying camping out.  Then you love it and upgrade to the spiffy one you get at Target.  But ya still love the old one because there’s memories there.

So, I was reading some of the old goods.  And it’s funny how things resolve themselves.  Also, how once some time has past, I cannot for the life of me remember what was going on.  My modus operandi on that blog was to be as abstract as possible to keep things anonymous; it worked.  Even I don’t remember what the hell I was talking about.  But, I thought it would be fun to go back to some of my favorites and give the “cycled” updates; in actuality, this may not be fun for anybody but me, but I’m going to do it…because this is my blog.  If you don’t like it, get your own.

1. I Have this Friend I love this post.  It’s one of my better writings.  And it got a lot of discussion (although not written comments) of course because everyone wanted to know what kind of magical realism I was playing with.  Happy to report I still have that same friend.  Relationship is different though.  Very different.  But he still makes an indentation.  That’s all the clues I’m gonna give as to who it might be.

2. I Feel Dumb This one also netted a huge number of questions…of course, people wanted to know what I did.  At the time I wasn’t ready to tell but now I’ll tell you it involved 1) a boy 2) a crush and 3) too much to drink and 4) shamelessly throwing myself at all of the above. Ugh.  I still feel dumb when I think about that moment (which, incidentally, I still vividly remember).  Funny though.  I was completely mortified and thought this very nice guy would think I was a crazy loser.  I still see him fairly regularly…I think we might even be friends now.  The possibility that he still thinks I’m a crazy loser: High.  One of our more recent exchanges went like this:

Him: It’s cold in here don’t you think.

Me: Yeah…but funny thing…my nose is cold but my hands are sweating.

Him: Um…that sounds like something you need to work out.

Me: [whimper].

Gave me a hug the other day, though, so I’m pretty sure we’re friends.

3. [Sigh.] I like this one because it was written in the moment [I remember it distinctly] and it’s raw (for me) and very agitated.  It was resignation in blog form.  I still think about these things every day.

4. Google Roogles Never for one second have I  regretted going to Gmail.  Not one.  If you’re not already using it…get thyself to the gmail homepage and get yourself a mailbox.  No kidding.

5. I’ve Been Talking To Myself Out Loud Today Meghan called me a French postmodernist for this one and it was a high compliment.  It was the beginning of February.  I was depressed.  Just the other day I was thinking about how far away this seems now.  And then I saw the forecast for this week…I’ll be back there before we all know it.

I think this is good for now.  I’ve got more and maybe someday I’ll even go further back.  But, here’s what I miss: the archives of all of that writing…sitting somewhere else.  I want it here.

Does anyone know how to archive Vox…because I really want to…

It’s been a long time since the last post.  I know that because I said the exact same thing on the last one.  Ironically, I say that not much has changed but, you know, actually it has.  It’s been a weird couple months.  Let me break it down for ya:

1. I wrote the last blog as Andras was leaving Chicago.  He’s back.  And, actually, he’s been staying with me for the past couple weeks.  It’s interesting. It’s been a long time since I’ve woken up and the garbage has been taken care of or the dishes done.  Frankly, I like it.  However, he took up the harmonica since he’s been here, so it could be a long week.  On the other hand, I’ve come to appreciate “O Susanna” in a whole new way.  He’ll only be here for a little longer, so I’m trying to get the most out of it while I can.

2. School work.  Ah, sweet school work.  It’s still here.  BUT drafts have been done.  I’ve got another draft to go but I’ve managed to stay somewhat on the schedule I made in August which, at the time, seemed nearly impossible.  I’m not sure 1) what I’ve learned or 2) how it got done but it did.

3. My laptop computer crapped out; that was pretty exciting.  Not only can I not get the hard drive out of the thing (so anything on there is hostage until such a time that I can locate a sledgehammer) but I had to spring for a new one.  The new little baby is very cool.  It’s 1) new 2) blue and 3) teeny in the best way.  LOVE. IT.

4. Because of said laptop, I’m running low on cash.  Also very exciting. I’m thinking, the flip side of the problem is that it’ll probably be an effective diet program.  Yes folks…this is what an unemployed 33 year old looks like.  Life is good.

While all of these things are fairly mundane, the good news is that nothing is traumatically bad which, several months ago, it definitely felt like.  For once, nuthin’ new doesn’t seem bad…not bad at all.

I have a friend.  Very often with this friend, things can get tough…quickly.  It’s a complex relationship, complicated by a myriad of factors.  If it was anyone else, I’d probably have given up a long time ago.  But the 2nd rule of the universe is that you can’t give up on kindred spirits…ultimately, they make the world go around.  (The first rule of the universe, of course, is that you never leave home without the “holy trinity”–keys, cell phone, wallet–doesn’t matter the length of the trip…they’re all you really need.)  Kindred spirits are just too few and far between to let  go.  And so, when the tough times pop up, I grit my teeth, hunker down, and hope it’s almost over (much like every visit to the dentist).

Needless to say, Thursday wasn’t a super great day which led to a swamp of a mess with this particular kindred spirit.  Thankfully, crisis ended.  Fairly quickly.  The good thing about observant and equally committed kindred spirits is that they acknowledge that rifts wreck their world as much as they wreck yours and so we set about correcting the situation fairly quickly…but it wasn’t crisis averted.  It was tough. And disruptive.  And weird. And uncomfortable.  And I was edgy and upset.  And the world tilted in an uncomfortable direction for awhile.

This happens about quarterly.  My “go-to” friends know this and actually can see it coming.  “Hey…how are things with that kindred spirit friend of yours?” they’ll ask, checking their watch and noting it’s been almost 4 months since the last time my world got temporarily wrecked.  And we’ve been through enough now that I’m not worried, as I once was, that every wreck spelled “I got dumped by my kindred spirit.” (Those are low days…I’ve been dumped by kindred spirits before…that does cause major life trauma that scars.)  Because of the regularity (almost clockwork) of these happenstances, I try to really think them through and learn from them, lest we not repeat the horror.  And here’s what I realized after this one: This particular kindred spirit relationship cannot withstand the mundane.

I say that with admiration, actually.  One of my life goals has always been to find people who inherently interest me.  And every person I have called a friend has done this to some degree.  But I have other kindred spirits who are really “everyday” kindred spirits; we keep in close contact, we support each other in essential ways, we see eye to eye through the mundane.  But with this one particular kindred spirit who feels so similar to me I often experience a “mirror effect” when together, I know that the everyday, the grind…it’s a killer.  That, precisely, has caused every single wreck we’ve walked through.

I guess I’ve known this for awhile.  But somehow I thought the progression of the relationship over time would change this.  It hasn’t.  We cannot get caught in the mundane.  It only spells trouble.  And this is the price of interesting.  Because interesting is really not about functionality.  And why would I ever want it to be?  If I have a kindred spirit who is willing and able and enjoys engaging conversation about things that no one else will, why would I ever want to clog that up with the boring reality of the everyday?  But I’m always compelled to do it…and it always causes problems.

I’m reading Thomas Merton right now…”No Man is an Island”…and his main point is that, in everything, individuals cannot be all things to all people.  This, I think, is true of kindred spirits as well.  While I have those who are willing to support me on a day-to-day basis, all friends do not fit this category.  But both “kinds” are equally important.  And while I want to be connected on a daily basis to a person that’s so similar to me…I just cannot.  I think it might not meant to be that way.  And as much as I want it to be that way, I have to find a new perspective.  And just hunker down for the next wreck…which by my calculation is scheduled to take place around early December.

But interesting will always win, no matter the price.

Well, it was bound to come out eventually.  I go to church.  A lot.  It’s kind of funny how it happens.  I’m not naturally inclined to go as often as I do but because of my involvement in church music, I end up sitting through a lot of masses.  How many?  For the past three weekends I’ve been to no less than 4 masses per weekend. This situation is completely typical for professional musicians who earn their livelihood singing or playing or directing or…whatever.  (When I mentioned it’s been a lot of Church to Steve, the director at Loyola, he was like, “Yeah…I’ve been doing this every Saturday since I was 14.”  When I said the same the to Paul at Mt. Carmel his response was basically “Pfffff.”  He’s been doing this every weekend for…well, a long time.)

And in all of these masses what I’ve realized is I’m listening to horrific homilies.  That doesn’t mean every one.  Some are way better (thank you Jesuits in general) than others (I’ll point no fingers but I have a couple folks specifically in mind).  But in general, the preaching that I’ve heard in the Catholic church around here is piss poor.  I’m actually educated in Theology to a point and over-educated in philosophy and sociology…and I’ll tell you, the flock is being misled by the misinterpretation and mis-appropriation of gospel messages.  Frankly, I’m starting to find it disgusting.

It’s hard to choke down homilies that are clearly used for political or personal gain while watching everyone in the congregation doing the polite “the priest is talking” nod.  I can’t stand the choice to abjectly ignore the “social gospel” (sorry people, but Jesus was the first socialist) in favor of pushing asinine institutional regulations without any nod toward critical thinking or application in one’s life. (Does wearing shorts to church really mean your eternal soul is in question?  If it does, I’m coming to realize I’ve been barking up the wrong tree for a long time.)  There’s a difference between preaching and pontificating.  We’re getting too much of the latter confused for the former.

Of course, there’s a clear solution to this problem.  All of these frantic homilies (if they’ve been thought about for more than 12 seconds or not stolen off of  “homilies.com”), flush with pleading and prodding about tithing (Catholics are particularly good at hiding this notion around the phrase “put it in the collection basket”…) and literal re-investment in the church (like, the money kind) come from men who needed the power the Church could promise them in this role.  And now that the institution in this country is seriously changing, laity are treating it differently, and becoming very savvy at reading the signs of the times themselves (which was once the purview of church), the power is dwindling.  And these insecure men parading around with their fake power are starting to get desperate. (This isn’t about gender slander…if women could be priests, women would be doing this too…actually probably more vindictively).

The solution to the preaching problem is finding people outside of the institutional structure who are still invested in the message of the gospel and not as a business.  Nuns (technically religious sisters) are writing up a storm and, whether I agree or disagree with their points, they’re pastoral.  They have Jesus’ words and intentions at heart.  They understand figurative imagery and language and have imaginations that expand the bounds of the possibilities.  A lot of men’s religious orders are doing this too.

I wish I could find this stuff at church.  I’ll still go because of the music and the community.  But I think it’s interesting that to find what I need spiritually…I’ve turned to the blogosphere.  And I’m one of the very faithful.

I’m not sure whether I should be surprised or not.  I’m fairly convinced, though, that my guilt response is deeply embedded.  Thank god for the guilt.  It reminds me of who I am.

See, I knew it.  All of that flushed “new blog” activity finally gave way to real life which is actually a “Yay for Katie” moment.  Celebrate my lack of reflection, people, because academics is back on track.  I feel lighter as we speak.

But though I have managed to forego virtual intellectual wrestling in favor of person-to-person contact and eyes-to-book-to-brain contact, I haven’t been without my thoughts.  And I’ve had an interesting coming together of the last couple of weeks.  It’s been the stuff of the cosmos finding some kind of alignment and allowing me to breathe fully and deeply for the longest time I can remember.  Calmness has been a fleeting transitory state for a long time, so the fact that it’s now been around for a couple weeks has created a new status-quo reality for me.  I appreciate it.

As long as I can remember, we woke up on Sunday mornings to my brother Andy watching four hours of Sportscenter on ESPN followed by the Sports Reporters, then hosted by eponymous Dick Schapp. It was his religion.

And it still is. A couple months ago, he and his friend George started a blog on all Ohio sports; they cover everything…and some random things with George taking Cincinnati/Columbus and Andy generally railing against anything sports related going on in Cleveland.

In spite of myself (and I’m partial because we’re related), I think Andy’s posts are hilarious (he writes under the pen name pacmanxu if you’re looking). He really knows sports, I think. But the true voice of hilarity just drips with irony coated in heartbreak: He is a life-long Clevelander beaten down by decades of teams that are either out-and-out losers (most recently, all of our teams except the Cavs) or so-close-but-not-quite (i.e The Indians during the 90s). Every sentence, so angry. Every word dripping with cynicism and disgust at the present sad state of things. He is Cleveland in all of these posts and I just can’t get enough.

I’m not sure my enthusiasm will extend beyond my family.  But he does present a good argument and his pictures in the posts are just beyond cleverly used.  Check it out.  If not for the Cleveland sports, than for a different take on my own *brand* of cynicism.  It might, in fact, be a Pacyna family trait.

There was a lovely dribble of cool air stumbling into my apartment this morning so, in a moment of wonder, I thought I’d check the forecast and brace myself for the impending end of Fall in July.  Being from Cleveland, I’m something of Rainman when it comes to weather (although I didn’t intend it, I LOVE that that phrase is something of a layered pun).  I have the Weather Channel on my desktop with real time updates to radar and stuff.  I know, not normal.  Anyway, this is what I find.

Seriously, LOOK AT THIS.  Now, of course, I see the thunderstorms which could be iffy.  But still…nightime temps in the mid- 60s. I don’t see an 80 on here after Tuesday.

I. Couldn’t. Be. More. Thrilled.  Yeah, Summer ’09.  Way to take it easy on us.

Patience, people. This has been a long time in coming…