Possession

When someone touches me it feels like they're trying to take possession of me.
I don't like it. Even the most platonic and non-sexual touch makes me cringe. It takes months or even years of time spent for me to feel comfortable with touch.

I know it comes from a lot of things.
That damn back room and the way she would rest her age spotted hand on my shoulder when whispering how rotten I was, the pinching tightness of her only slightly younger age spotted hands gripping my upper arm hissing at me the things to say to never have to go home again.
The way the only touch I ever felt comforted under was hidden in secrecy of too young and too soon. The way even that touch would disintegrate with the stunning rapidity of shifting teen allegiances.
The way I knew I could use touch to change a topic or divert attention from a searching glance or reassure myself that you cared enough to spend the night.

So now these many years later touch has become bad. All touch. I have to really believe that you won't hurt me to allow touch, and I don't really believe that a lot of people won't hurt me.

Even with dear friends, the closer geographically they get, the less we touch. Long weekend are punctuated by obligatory hugs but I hate to linger. It feels like a trap. Like I won't be able to escape (these dear people that I otherwise have no desire to escape).

I had a friend once, and believe me when I say we were really just friends. We would go walking in benign places and hold hands just for the comfort of having another anchor in the world. There was poking and arms casually slung around shoulders, soft touches to the back or face just to say, "I'm still here. This is still solid ground."
I miss that friend. Because life shifted as it will and it's no longer appropriate for us to comfort each other, even platonically, that way. His wife would probably mind, which is completely appropriate and understandable.

But outside of the desperate and often manipulative context of teenage sexuality I cannot recall any other person or relationship that contained such an ease of touch. Nothing sexual, nothing inappropriate, just one person saying to another that they were there.
It's the last time I didn't feel that constricting need to flee at even the slightest touch.

Dem Bones

We had beef ribs on Saturday night. Since they were beef bones we decided to give them to the dogs, Tundra and Faith.

I walked out the door with a plate of bones and they were right up on me begging for them. So I pulled one off the plate for each of them. Tundra took his and as I handed Faith hers he stared hard at it. I could almost see his doggie brain working.
I turned towards their bowls to put the rest of the bones in them while Faith took her bone into the grass and settled down for a nice evening of cleaning and chewing it up. Tundra however immediately dropped the bone I gave him and trotted over to the bowls just sure I was going to put something better in there.
I dropped the bones in and he sniffed and picked one up. He trotted over to his other bone and as I walked back inside I saw that he would chew on one for a minute then see the other one and drop the 1st one to chew on the 2nd one.
Back and forth he went and even went to the bowl for a 3rd bone, surely that one would be the best of them all.

I went inside to tell this funny little story and realized what an analogy to humans it is. How there are some of us that can be content with what we have and others that are constantly striving for what we think is better. Sometimes it is, but sometimes we just flit back and forth between several things and never really allow ourselves to settle in enough to enjoy what's right in front of us.

I don't know where the balance is, but I'm sure trying to figure it out.

I'm either very paranoid, or right

I've had some friends staying with me for the last week or so and I also had my parents in town last weekend. One of the first nights we were all in the house at the same time my mom got to talking with one of my friends about family and jobs.
My moms brother worked for the government and she was talking about how he would disappear for a few weeks then resurface saying only that he'd been working or in Washington. The friend is working on a masters program that is intertwined with the government so she was asking different questions and ultimately asked, "Does your brother still work for them?"
My mom, lost in thought and not really paying attention at that point said "yes"

Uhhh, my uncle has been dead for almost 30 years.

So I remind my mom of this and she said, "Oh, I didn't hear the question."

Funny anecdote of my mom missing her brother? Probably.
But here's what happened in my head.

For a few seconds (minutes, ok, maybe days) after mom said yes I started to wonder if that wasn't the truth. If my uncle had merely faked his death and went into a deep cover mission that has lasted this long. The other option is that he faked his death for a deep cover mission and then was killed, but they (whoever they is) didn't tell us because he was already dead in our heads.

Now, maybe it's because I watch a lot of Alias but I also wonder where on earth these ideas come from. I mean, does that stuff even happen. I also felt hurt that I was excluded from this information (that isn't even TRUE, allegedly) and that everyone else knew but me.

Some days I feel crazier than I do on most days. But I thought I'd make note of this thought process just in case it is actually true.

Spooling

At work my desk is by a window.
The window looks onto the outside parking lot.
Beyond the parking lot are railroad tracks.
On the other side of the railroad tracks is the railway yard.

There's a lot of discarded junk sitting in the railway yard.

Including these giant spools. They kind of look like the old wooden thread spools.

The other day I was staring out my window wondering what they put on them. I realized it was probably cable of some kind. Then I started picturing how the cable got onto and off of the spools. I imagined the huge machinery that would have to twirl the spools while another machine fed the cable onto the spool (because obviously robots do it, it couldn't possibly be done by people right?)

Then I twirled my chair around to do some more work and thought about how grateful I was to have grown up in a time with Mr. Rogers. Because his little trips with Mr. McFeely through the spools of film that were speedily delivered got me looking at things wondering how they got to be where and how they were.

I don't know if I'm right about these spools. But it was a fun little moment during a otherwise mostly dull day.

Reality

I was watching Hoarders the other night. There was a guy who said he was Peter Pan. He wasn't this guy, for those of you that know who that guy is....But he was this guy in Florida that had fought in wars and was even knighted by Prince Charles because of his heroism towards some British soldiers.

He also called himself a modern day Liberace. But basically he had spent all of his savings and all of his retirement on shiny, pretty things. Because he wanted to fill his house with beautiful things. He was in danger of bankruptcy and agreed to allow Hoarders to come in and help him clean out his house and maybe sell some of his things so he could stay financially afloat.

It came to the point in the show when they opened the fridge and realized it was full of spoiled food and other gross things. The Hoarders counselor asked this man to clean it out. She wanted him to see what he had done. She wanted him to fix it so he would know what had occurred in his fridge. I mean, it's just a fridge, probably not a big deal. But he started to refuse. He said,

"It's ugly and I don't look or deal with anything ugly."

She forced his hand, and with quite a bit of attitude he finally cleared out the fridge.

Later in the show she was digging into why he had withdrawn so far into his pretty things. He talked a bit about his family history and then he said:

"I've seen what reality can do, and I don't want any part of it"

I was really struck at how long I lived like that.

Because I just want everything to be ok.

I want to be ok, I want you to be ok. I want our relationships to be ok. Because if it's ok, it's ok.

I don't like it when there is tensions, I don't like it when people hurt and I want to fix it. I don't like the ugly emotions, ugly relationships...I don't like ugly things.

For so long I would just withdrawal, bury my head in the sand and stick my fingers in my ears for good measure. Then, when I realized that wouldn't fix anything I went into fixer mode. I jumped into the fray and tried to talk through things, get people to understand each other and find a solution amenable to everyone.

But then they turned on me, because I was butting in where I didn't usually belong.

So here I am. Still not wanting to look at the ugliness, especially not ugliness that I created. I hide relationally partially because I've seen what reality is in some relationships and I don't want any part of it.

Sometimes I can't imagine why on earth I would pursue a relationship when I see so many falling apart, tearing each other down relationships around me.
Sometimes I completely withdrawal from all of my relationships (non-romantic) because it's just to much for me. It's to much reality, to much mucking it out and dredging through the ugly, through the disappointments through the gross. it's just to much and I don't know how to do it.

But I do it anyway. The redeeming parts of reality are there, even when I close my eyes to them in the midst of tantrums. I see it in the people around me that allow me peaks inside the "reality" of their relationships and while there is strife it's refining, it's edifying, it's supportive and encouraging even if it's saying things that the other person doesn't want to know. I see it in the friends that reach across the chasm I'm building between myself and reality and the words that stretch across the weeks of stubborn silence.

Reality is sometimes ugly. But to toss it all out means you have to toss out the beauty, the redemption, the love along with the ugly and so far, I'm just not able to do that. Are you?

Closeted

So I had a thought today, I know...it's a rare occurrence.
I was thinking that it might be a "normal" thing for gay men to have relationships with women as part of their relationship history. (seeing as I am not a gay man it is just my thoughts and not based on any real life or fictional relationship that I know about. Also, in this story I am NOT the straight woman in question just to clarify)
Wouldn't then it be a normal occurrence for part of the serious relationship conversation that happens between 2 gay men to include references to their history with women? Not serious mention, just hey this happened sort of thing. From my very (very) brief survey of gay men I find that is probably pretty accurate and that it's no big deal, just part of their history.

Ok, tracking with me so far?

I would assume that most of the time when a straight girl (again I am a straight girl but not THIS straight girl) has a relationship with a man and part of their this is getting serious conversation reveals that the man has had relationships with men in their past it would probably be a deal breaker for a lot of women. Not ALL but a lot.

Now, I would also assume that it's a deal breaker for the straight girl because she might always be wondering if said man would decide to switch back to relationships with men or dabble on the side with men at some point in their future.
Do gay men wonder the same? I would guess not for many reasons not the least of which is societally based.

But why?

Also, lets change genders again and say a straight man and a straight girl are having the this is getting serious relationship conversation and she mentions that she's had relationships with women in the past. Chances are it would not be a deal breaker for the straight guy (well most straight guys I suppose seeing as I can't speak for straight men since I am not one....(Wow, there is a lot of information about my gender in this post...))

Just random things I was thinking about today.
Do you have any thoughts on this?

Tooth Brushes (Teeth Brushes?)

I was driving back from lunch today and a commercial for Reach Tooth Brushes came on the radio.
They ended with some disclaimers. Which brought up some questions for me and also A LOT of my toothbrush weirdo habits.

They said, be sure to rinse your tooth brush thoroughly after brushing to ensure all the toothpaste has washed out.
Question: WHO DOESN'T DO THIS?!!?

They said to store your tooth brush in the upright position so it will dry out completely.
Question: Dooooo toothbrushes not dry when place in other positions?

They strongly suggested replacing your toothbrush every 3 months.
Question: How long do some people use their toothbrushes normally?

I was so creeped out by the first statement that I began to mentally review my toothbrush hygiene regimes.

My toothbrush has to be in an enclosed cabinet but not touching aforementioned cabinet. I usually balance it on the tube of toothpaste, always the same side of the toothbrush tube so the brush doesn't touch anything that touched anything besides my hands, which are washed before handling toothbrush and/or toothpaste.

Don't even THINK about flushing the toilet with the seat up while my toothbrush is out of the enclosed cabinet. I imagine little poop particles rocketing through the air and adhering themselves to my brush :shudder:

If my tooth brush bristles even hint at touching anything that isn't the tube of toothpaste, my teeth or my freshly washed hands it's getting pitched. Period.
I still gag at the memory of dropping my toothbrush on the bathroom floor at work. Just the thought that anyone would rinse it off and put it back in their mouth.... :shudder:

I do probably stick with the about 3 month switch theory though. Unless of course, the bristles touch something.
Having said all this, I think I'll go brush my teeth...it just feels like the right thing to do.

Do you have any weird toothbrush/toothpaste habits? Do you patently disagree with any of mine?