Keep calm and don’t blink.

You know - even though that’s a Doctor Who reference (yeah, I joined the Whovians) - it’s actually kind of fitting. Life is crazy. It’s important to keep your head about you, to stay calm, if you will. Then there’s the saying, “blink and you’ll miss it.”

Well, I didn’t stay calm and I definitely blinked.

How did time fly so fast? The people I met in elementary school have elementary schoolers of their own.

I’ve grown apart from someone who meant a lot to me. A lot. The rift started in college, when we went our separate ways. Then it got worse. Marriage. Kids. Jobs. Lives.

We don’t know how to talk to each other. We don’t know how to fit the other into our new lives.  We don’t know how to be friends any more.

We’ve grown apart. Far apart.

It’s natural. I know. But it fucking sucks.

—-

In return for letting them go, I’ve been rewarded with new friends who buy me t-shirts that say “Accepting you’re an asshole is the first step” and send me Facebook messages saying, “And meeting you is one of my highlights for 2012”.

I get messages from old friends who have surprisingly come back to me: “Tamara I have alot of friends but none of them with heart like yours.”

I’m one lucky girl.

Don’t think I don’t know that.

Bye, again, old friend.

Welcome back, brother.

Merry pornmas, silent P.

You’re so vain, you probably think this song is about you…

I once rewrote that song, back in the heat of Teh Bloggar Warz, and never posted it.

I should really find it…

—-—-—- 

Met with yet another trainer yesterday. I think this one is going to stick.

He actually listened to me. Weird, huh?

Said he didn’t know squat about bipolar/depression after workouts and wouldn’t make any blanket statements. Instead, we’d keep an eye on the workouts and see if we can’t peg down what might be causing it.

We talked about what I could find out about the GORUCK Challenge and my lack of upper body strength. Upper body is definitely going to be an issue - there’s a lot of push ups, buddy carries. a freaking 1,000 pound log, holding team members’ rucks, and let’s not forget running around and doing all that crap while wearing a ruck that weighs near 50 pounds (6 bricks, a hydration bladder, food, possible jacket, extra socks…).

When I told him that my immediate need was getting below 150 pounds so that I only needed to carry four bricks instead of six, he laughed. Told me that was an excellent goal to start with.

Yeah. I like him.

He wants me to mail down a date, but I don’t think I can make any of the ones that are posted… I’ll have to go back through and check them against the Muchachos schedule again.

It’s becoming real. Really real.

Oh. Shit. I’m. Actually. Going. To. Do. This.

huh.

I was working on my three words last night - really defining them and making sure they were the right ones - when I got hit by a blinding truth.

I don’t know to be friends with ANYONE.

I don’t know if it’s the bipolar making me keep people at arm’s length.

I don’t know if it’s some fucked up remnant of my childhood and/or the isolation of being an introverted, shy, only child.

I don’t know if it’s the way I was wired from day one - maybe all that other stuff is a “symptom” of the larger problem.

I can’t let the members of my blood family back in, even though they want it so badly… And I’m the one that sought them out.

I can’t let J’s family in, even though it’s probably important to him (he’s never said, but it’s a safe assumption).

I communicate with the majority of my friends through Facebook because it’s easier. It’s friendship on MY terms.

I read blogs to keep tabs on them instead of reaching out regularly.

I break promises to keep in touch more often.

I don’t know how to fix this.

To fix ME…

But it was important enough to make the list after everything was filtered out…

It’s time to sit down and figure out this part of my personality.

It’s PAST time to figure out this part of my personality.

I Christmas a Merry Wish You…

I haven’t thought of that in years… I can’t remember if I made it up or if N did, but it was ‘written’ during high school. N… the lesbian friend I lost over a stupid misunderstanding about her sexuality. N… the friend back in my life due to Facebook and the shared pain of trying to accept the stupidity of a mutual friend.

It seems fitting that it would pop into my head today.

During this past year, I mourned the loss of someone that I just don’t know how to be friends with. It goes all the way back to college and it sucks. So, bye, old friend…  I also mourned the loss of someone that used to be my family before they turned their back on me. The fact that a person is a blood relative doesn’t mean you won’t be subject to their hurtful jackassery. So, bye, Djadko J… Clarity. Closure. Cookies.

On the flip side, my openness about the bipolar (and the blog entries that have been printed out and given to long-term life partners) has brought old friends back into my life. The fact that they all hide it - and I’m ridiculously in your face - has made it easier for them seek out members of the ‘tribe’. I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again, we’re not alone in fighting this. I’m sad that it takes ‘coming out’ to bring us together, but I’m glad we reconnected on a deeper level.

Let’s not forget about the other old friends I’ve reconnected with. I’m working on being more social with them. (It’s part of my three words (more on that later)). Plus, Newtown kind of reminded me (again) that life is just too fucking short to have “take off the shelf once a year” friends. There are people who mean a lot to me and I’m tried of not seeing them face to face.

Then there’s the new friends… the ones I can share a “Merry Pornmas” with. The ones who indulge in inappropriate touching. (Wait. That’s all the same person. Oh well.) The ones that I haven’t scared off with the openess about the bipolar…

Santa’s been good to me this year. There are more people in my life than I lost and that’s pretty good!

Hopefully Santa’s been as good to you, Peanut Gallery.

Back to our regularly scheduled programming

guinness :: christmas 2012

SO.

It sounds stupid, but I’ve always wanted an American Girl doll. (Yes, you read that right.)

I’ve wanted to take up sewing again, too. Too many friends have picked up quilting/sewing and I feel like following along. I needed another hobby, I guess.

I came to the great conclusion that I would get myself an AG doll and sew it some clothes. A fencing uniform, specifically. I’d use some PVC pipe for the base of the mask with some window screen, a hanger for the foil, etc.

Enter the sewing machine from hell.

I had picked up an interest in sewing in high school/college and my dad bought me this really expensive (comparatively speaking) machine. The model is a limited edition and hard to find any info about on the web. I ended up buying a couple of pattern books and a book titled “Me and My Sewing Machine” with a gift card I received.

I’ve been practicing and the machine and I just aren’t getting along. I get the tension correct on my test piece and then it misbehaves on the pattern pieces.

Today, though, I had a breakthrough and managed to cobble together my first pair of doll pants. Then I promptly tore them apart. They don’t fit the doll correctly, but I know what I need to do to make them fit… then I need to attach the bib, and lo! and behold! A pair of fencing knickers!

Yeah. Except that once I get the capri pants sewn together, the bib is going to be kind of a mystery. I have a tank top pattern that will work - with some alterations. Then I need to figure out the logistics of the jacket. Whether or not I’m going to do a chest guard and plastron.

So many decisions and I keep getting ahead of myself…

It wouldn’t be so bad except the machine is driving me fucking nuts. I don’t know if it’s user error (most likely) or the machine.

I’d thought about taking sewing lessons, and maybe it’s time I sucked it up and did it. The less the machine and I get along, the less interested I’m getting in making the fencing outfit…

and I don’t want yet another unfinished project on my to-do list…

*sigh*