This should be part of a series called "I use to deal with that better."
Ideally, I want people to know what bothers me so that they will be aware of how I may respond, not so that they will change their behavior, but so they aren't surprised when I tell them, "Um, that's not OK". It is much in the same camp as my desire to know how they may behave so that I can be aware that I might be upset by their actions and perhaps deal with the situation differently.... it is sort of a prementive strick against conflict. If I know, for instance, that someone isn't going to tell me if they are bailing unless it is made expressively clear that plans indeed have been made, I can make it clear that plans have been made and that a bail message is expected. Otherwise, these expectations are not understood, folks get their little egos wrinkled and bitchy offensives are waged. The next step is then avoidance and then you are well on your way to a 6th grade girl fight.
One thing that I really think about often is how much better I use to feel about conflict than I typically do now. I use to maintain a strick policy of telling folks when their actions upset me before I got angry. Now I often stew over things instead of just opening a dialogue about the things that I'm worried or upset by about. What happened to that my strict regiment of honesty and upfrontness? Certainly avoidance has it's merit. And I did sometimes loose the war of knowing when to pick my battles... but seriously.
DISCLAIMER: *Really Big Ego Declaration of The Presumption of Knowing What the Hell Is Up With Myself*
I want to believe in my own level headedness, my own sanity, my own internal conflict averted... but is it real or imagined. Do I (under the best of circumstances) deal well with conflict because I internalize it and mentally deconstruct "both" sides of the argument? Or do I deal well with conflict because I have learned how to gracefully pull a punch and play nice with angered others?
Does it really matter if I avoid conflict or take it on?
It is really easy to fall victim to the idea that "you know yourself better than anyone else." And by falling victim, I mean to say, believing that this statement has any meaning or significance to yourself or others. Although, in the most basic aspect this statement is valid, I think it is best left at; "It's a bit more complicated than that."
And where the hell is all of this circular and ego centric logic coming from? I think I need to start a to-do list of self improvement using Backpack... that will make me feel better...
I usually have a cardinal rule about not using my photo as my profile image or even associated with an on-line profile. Vox is the first time I broke that rule, and to be fair, it was in large part due to the smallness of the audience. But it is also because I am (reluctantly) growing more use to having my photo show up on line via flickr, etc. My defenses have been weakened...
And here lies the problem. I made a horrible mistake. I posted photos of myself to my myspace page. Now mind you, I didn't make the mistake of making either of those two photos as my profile photo... but the damage is done, none the less.
In my defense, I found a friend of mine from england and didn't want him to see a bunch of vinyl toys and not make the connection to my name... blah, blah, blah. Still, dumb.
Within sort order I received a slue of messages and/or invites. (note: I have 17 [total] friends on myspace... this is not a service I utilize) Most were fairly innocuous friend requests (or at least I chose to receive them that way) but one was a blatant chat up and one was a direct link to this:
"Top Myspace girls looking there best in lingerie, Sexy clothes, and top designer clothes! Win $100 a day and enjoy on-line dating meet your perfect match today."
Yucky! So perhaps this little rule of mine will be followed more closely from now on. In the mean time I'm going to go find some lingerie, Sexy clothes, and top
designer clothes to look hott in...
How fantastic to live somewhere again where anything over 73°F is a scorcher.
For those poor sorry bastards elsewhere, I hope you are managing to stay coolish.... wahhaha!
I have been thinking a lot lately about the nature of loneliness. The 'lately' is a bit of a misnomer, but how long I've been thinking about it doesn't really mean much in the context of this post... it could be that I've always being exploring this idea, but for the most part it has been a feature of my thoughts for the past several months.
The move to SF was in large part directly related to these thoughts on loneliness that were an inherit part of my life in chucktown. In many ways I have found, in SF, budding connectivity and the beginnings of some wonderful friendships that would abate, if not placate, my loneliness. And previously I had blamed much of these feelings on my lack of friends and personal relationships... but now I am forced to face the very real probability that my loneliness may have less to do with what surrounds me, as it does with what makes me up.
It would be a bit pretentious of me to claim, one way or another, the quality of my heart. But, that being said, my ego would never be satisfied if I didn't engaged in a little self reflection from time to time. And there is a melancholy that almost always accompanies this process of self reflection and it is most probably indicative of my general demeanor or perhaps even my character. But whether I am plagued by meloncholy and as result feel lonely frequently or plagued by loneliness which leads to meloncholy changes little about my propensity to be swallowed up by moments of hopeless cheerlessness.
None the less, in 1621, another smarter, better read, more eloquent man than I, mused on the nature of melancholy:
- Melancholy, the subject of our present discourse, is either in disposition or in habit. In disposition, is that transitory Melancholy which goes and comes upon every small occasion of sorrow, need, sickness, trouble, fear, grief, passion, or perturbation of the mind, any manner of care, discontent, or thought, which causes anguish, dulness, heaviness and vexation of spirit, any ways opposite to pleasure, mirth, joy, delight, causing frowardness in us, or a dislike. In which equivocal and improper sense, we call him melancholy, that is dull, sad, sour, lumpish, ill-disposed, solitary, any way moved, or displeased. And from these melancholy dispositions no man living is free, no Stoick, none so wise, none so happy, none so patient, so generous, so godly, so divine, that can vindicate himself; so well-composed, but more or less, some time or other, he feels the smart of it. Melancholy in this sense is the character of Mortality. . . . This Melancholy of which we are to treat, is a habit, a serious ailment, a settled humour, as Aurelianus and others call it, not errant, but fixed: and as it was long increasing, so, now being (pleasant or painful) grown to a habit, it will hardly be removed. -Robert Burton The Anatomy of Melancholy
Hell hath no furry like a Mechanical Violator wronged by fictitious peace!
Hakaider reigns terror on Jesus Town with an XBox logo on his chest. There is an amazing robot fight scene (yes, that's what I said - robots fighting on film!) that is very reminiscent of a series of Tokyo Plastic prints I love. Full of stark blacks, whites, and red violent loveliness, this movie answers the long standing question; If this peace is fictitious, who will destroy it?
So from the looks of things, everything is nice and happy here in the Vox.
We will give this little guy a try and see how long till it loses it's new blog smell.
