5.01.2021

choose love not in the shallows but in the deep

The latest volley in The Interview Game, a la The Johnnie Walker Interview, from my dear old friend "The Onion": 
 
1. What are the great joys of your life these days? What makes your toes curl, what gets you into your car on a bitterly cold Sunday morning, what pries open your savings account because goddammit it's time to spend?
    Those four phrases bring to mind at least three different answers, and the whole lot makes me smile in a slow, satisfied, mysterious way that would probably seem obvious on the surface but wouldn't even begin to approach the real meaning.
    What are my great joys just now? A few hours' sleep. Personal mail. Earning money. Delicious food, well made. My own courage, especially in the face of something that might've frozen me before. Hugs. Kitties. Hugs from kitties. Text messages that make me think. Phone calls with the only person I ever answer the phone to. 
    What makes my toes curl? Those phone calls. Those hugs. A really good book. Growing something, and seeing the first sprout or flower appear. Massage. Riding in the car when I can trust the driver.
    What gets me in my car? Well, to me that's the equivalent of, "When I don't want to see people, when it gets to be too much to process social interactions - is there anyone I will still be around?" Yes, there is. We can be in the same room, doing our own thing, talking only when necessary. Eat, nap, watch sports or a movie, read. Just be, independently - but together. He knows who he is, and that's enough. 
    What pries open my bank account? Ironically, I'm pouring a lot of money into my house lately, but with the not-so-hidden goal of leaving it sooner rather than later. This place has always been too big for one person. I bought it because I was tired of looking for a place to live and it felt like home from the first, but that doesn't change the fact that it's a lot of house and I'm using maybe a third of it, and less all the time. This spring I'm getting new floors in the kitchen, dining room, and another room in the back. Once that's through, I'll take delivery of new kitchen appliances. After that, my handyman couple will complete some minor tasks (clean-up painting related to the flooring change, swapping out a few light fixtures, and changing the banister to the basement). At that point, I'm ready to call my real estate agents to have them evaluate the selling potential. And, of course, the possibility of finding me a place to live that won't cost more than this place!

2. Imagine you're standing before an alien, and he knows what you are - blood, bones, genes, linen and cotton and leather garments, all check. But when it asks "Who Are You?", what do you respond? Remember--the fate of the galaxy rests on you here, don't start a war. 
    I am probably not the one that you should ask. You see, I am an observer, not a statesman. I do not speak for the people. Not for anyone, really. I like to think of myself as one who looks for answers, but in truth what I like best are the questions, the challenges, the seeking itself. Who am I? I don't know. A different thing now than when I met the author of these questions, for sure, that differentness doubled in the decade before that, and so on. A daughter, sister, aunt, great aunt. Niece, cousin. Godmother times three. Ex-wife (and the various ex- statuses to go along with that). Attorney, historian, cataloger. Whatever the hell my job is now. Reader, writer, photographer. Collector. Seller. Friend. Something undefinable.

3. Favorite thing about your body - not the little details that you wish were better, but the things that you enjoy having be seen, that make you shine within and without when noticed. 
    My eyes are light blue rimmed in gold amber, and especially when it's dark and my pupils are big, they are strikingly pretty.

4. What're the top 5 things that you enjoy to do/go to/buy/maybe even eat or drink that defy your usual character? A bookworm who puts on corpse paint for a heavy metal concert, for example, or a firefighter ex-Marine who loves his flower bed--what are those things for you? 
    This is difficult to answer, because my "usual character" is multifaceted and resistant to simple boundaries. However, for the sake of explanation, I will try to comply--by sharing my inside v. outside dichotomies.
    a) For about half the year, my typical 'look' is the librarian uniform cardigan sweater, jeans, and low-key boots. Under that uniform are 10 tattoos, a toe ring, and toenails whose polish color changes roughly every three days, year 'round. The inside literally doesn't match the outside.
    b) My physical appearance can make me seem ... mild mannered. Even as I type this, I can imagine the look on my best friend from college's face when she reads that, and the involuntary nasal expulsion from another person. While my outward mannerisms are often mild, I can also be a fiery fucking hothead just looking for a place to blow. I thoroughly enjoy 'pulling out my hidden lawyer' on someone who's earned her.
    c) If I drink in public (which I rarely do) and someone else is buying, more often than not I will just order a shot of vodka or rum. No futzing with umbrellas and chasers and foo-foo mixers.
    d) Despite my elaborate and well-documented relationship with shoes and pretty jewelry, I have few purses, and do not care to acquire more. Anytime I can get away without one, I am happy to do so.
    e) The photographs that I've taken that I love the most - I mean, for which I have the greatest personal affection - are not those with fine composition or a good eye or striking lighting, or any of that. They are, in truth, probably just amateurish snapshots of real moments in which I was happy. That's not a hip artiste thing to admit, but that's why I'm not a photographer in truth. It just makes me happy.

5. What are the things you are most proud of in your life to date? What are your biggest and best moments? 
    Going to college, because it was a rebellious move in my extended family. Living through college on a diet of cheap beer, heartache, and Snickers. 
    Moving to the Mitten, even though it took getting married to get there. Having the experience of "living away" was good for me. I don't know if I'd have grown up without it. 
    Staying in the Flatland after the divorce. Having the experience of living on my own, when everything in my life was telling me that moving home was the easiest thing to do. Easy isn't always right, and that's the prime example. I probably learned as much in those ten years as I had in the prior 34.
    Studying for, and passing, the bar exam. In my family of origin, I am considered the flighty one, and not without good reason. (My subject GRE scores are a fine example of that shit, but that's feed for another post.) Proving to myself that I could settle down for hours at a time to relearn what I'd spent the prior three years learning for the first time was enormously valuable. Passing that fucker in one go was a Goddamned triumph. Being sworn in was one of the finest feelings I can ever hope to have. I just wish someone else - anyone else, really - had given a fuck.
    Finishing my thesis, earning my Masters, after poking my fingers in my ears and sing-song-ing La-la-la-la-la for six years. I managed to squeak it out roughly two months before I would have lost credits because they were more than ten years old. Writing 109 pages on a subject that still makes me happy to talk about.
    Ending my marriage. Not a good thing, but a right thing, and we're both better for it.
    Getting out of the Flat when I did, and moving up here. Again, not the easy thing to do, and plenty of reasons not to. Some regrets, even. (I miss you, C.)
    And, finally: loving as a grown-up. No hearts stolen, no trickery, no blind moments. I knew what I was getting and made my choice. Keeping on making that choice is an ongoing good moment.

[Thanks, my Onion! The title quotation is by Christina Rossetti.]

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