Marching to the Tune of a Different Drummer

In the last few months, I've had various friends get engaged, married, pregnant, buy homes, and do other grown up activities that I have yet, if ever, to do.

It's no secret that I have a weird phobia about marriage and having children and just being a grownup in general. I have been proposed to once, had two long-term live-in boyfriends, and I am all about being in relationships. I'm good in a relationship. Not always great, but I enjoy them. So why the fear of the ultimate commitment, I have no idea.

A few weeks back I had invited some friends over for dinner. They just happened to have recently bought an apartment and we were sort of celebrating that as well as I thought it was time I started having grownup dinners in my not so grownup apartment. I mean, I've lived there for SIX years and the only entertaining I do is a Super Bowl party once a year and, you know, bedroom entertaining. But I now have a table that seats more than 2 and I am also a pretty good cook, or so I think!

I didn't realize how stressed out I got about having people over-not because I don't enjoy it but one of the things that my ex-ex and I used to do was have dinner parties and we had some sick kitchen stuff. He was slightly gay, and enjoyed trips to Willams Sonoma more than the average, well, anyone, male or female. We had every kitchen gadget you could imagine, and somehow managed to stuff them all into our 2x2 foot "kitchen" where we prepared elaborate meals like cassoulets and roasted chickens and root vegetables and pies and cakes of all sorts. Sadly, when we broke up, he got all the kitchen stuff save for some herb graters I bought and maybe a few old pots. So as I started in on my cooking for that night's dinner, I realized that I didn't have the right pan, or even steak knives. I literally had to run out to the 99 cent store and purchase - you guessed it! - 99 cent steak knives (3 in a packet!) and hope that whoever was using them didn't end up with a broken knife dangling from their hand. Quel embarrassment.

Anyway, I was dealing with all of those shenanigans and then the Birthday Present showed up, and I just verbally puked all over him. In the course of the day's preparations, I decided that he was not ready for a relationship (after 3 years...mind you) nor did we want the same things in life.

To be fair, I am not even really sure what those things are. I mean, there are definitely things that I like that he certainly does not (getting up early, sun, daylight, vegetables) and vice versa. But as I was crying like a lunatic at him and telling him all the reasons why he was so NOT into this, it dawned on me that one of the things I was agonizing over was my lease. It was up, and I was being given the option of renewing for one year, or two. I KNOW the right thing to do is renew for two. My emotions were getting pissed that I couldn't bring myself to have a conversation with my boyfriend of 3 years like "so, where do you see this in a year?" I think because, mostly, I'm not ready to have that conversation. It's like I want HIM to want to have the conversation, but I don't even know what I would say if we had it.

I tend to get very caught up in what others are doing. The fact that my friends are getting married, buying houses, having babies, and doing grown up things does not mean that it is time for me to be doing those things. See how I did that there? Talked myself right out of it :)

Eye Eye Eye

Well, it's 3:30 am so what better time to start writing again than now? I tried with all my might to go back to sleep but it ain't happening so lucky for you all I've got some stuff to say.

I really thought I had posted more recently than Thanksgiving-how the fuck did 2 months go by I'll never understand but believe me I thought about it a lot-- I guess thinking and doing are two totally different things though, huh.

The last few months I've been on a bit of a downward spiral, to be honest. I honestly don't know how people age gracefully and deal with chronic illnesses and life-threatening situations without needing to be on heavy duty tranqs 24/7. I'm serious. I just booked an appointment with the rapist who I haven't been to in almost year because I thought I was "done' with therapy, but I'm now realizing that I can't handle all the curve balls that have been thrown at me lately.

The latest bullshit is a new and exciting development in my eye called Irisitis. It's really fun-I highly recommend getting it. I don't even know how to tell you to get it because no one really knows for sure. All I know is I woke up one morning and my eye was bright red, and swollen. It looked like I'd been punched in the face. And it hurt like fuck and balls. Like crazy hurt. I do not know from eye doctors as I have never had to go to one for vision reasons, so I made an appointment with my own doctor and saw the PA who promptly told me to RUN to the eye doctor NOW. Apparently this shit is caused by unknown autoimmune disorders and can make you blind. Yay. Double yay that I buy art for a living and need my eyes to be, well, functioning.

So, here I was, possibly going blind, and possibly dying from some underlying disease that hadn't been pinpointed yet. Besides being scared shitless of all that was to come, I also literally have been mostly blind in one eye for a month because I have to dilate my pupils twice a day in addition to 2 other drops that go in every two hours, literally. If I'm in a meeting, or at a party, or dinner, or having sex, I have to excuse myself to put these asshole drops into my eyes, or else I will miss my dose and my eye will blow up like a balloon. Also having one eye dilated makes me look like a psycho killer so I hate going anywhere because I get weird looks and my friends who don't know what's wrong with me do that little dance where they want to ask but they don't want to ask...so I haven't been going out much.

Thankfully, the eye doctor yesterday gave me a good report that I am healing and I can stop dilating during the day and I can ease up on the drops. So there's that. I still don't know why this happened. When I went to my own doctor again for the bloodwork to be done she made me feel a ton better, that I wasn't actually dying of anything and that this could have happened for NO reason or any number of reasons and the eye doctors were upsetting me for no reason. So I stopped thinking I was going to die.

Oh also this could be caused by having celiac disease, which I was diagnosed with. I don't know if I mentioned that lovely tidbit. Of course I didn't know about this possible correlation, and I was stress eating,  I do recall almost and entire pizza was ingested one night, among other things-so I'm sure that didn't help with the healing process, nope.

That being said, I am down 22 pounds which is pretty much unbelievable considering I don't even feel like I'm doing anything consciously to lose weight anymore. So what does that mean-I guess I've stopped "dieting" and made it my"lifestyle" like they're always telling us to do, right?

Anyway, the worst part about all of this health shit is that I'm proving more and more everyday that I am a total wuss and I have serious issues with all of it. I have several friends this year who had to deal with a lot more serious stuff than I, and they faced it with maturity, and were brave, and came out on the other side just fine or at least intact and sane. I dread the day I am faced with anything that is truly serious. And so does the Birthday Present I'm sure. Poor guy has been dealing with 50 mood swings a day from me. Hence the upcoming therapy appointment!!!

I'm trying to focus on other things that keep me from obsessing about myself, some of which are:
-finding a video production class that doesn't cost a million bucks
-guitar lessons - finally
-Kundalini Gong Yoga which I swear makes you feel like you've taken a hundred Xanax
-running, again -I want to start doing races after a 4 year hiatus

So. We'll see.