Misfits & Bad Moods

I realized something significant on the weekend. When I cook and I bake, I think I put too much stock into these activities as being something good to do. While I do end up gaining better cooking and baking skills, ultimately, cooking is the same as reading a book, going for a walk or painting.  It seems more justifiable at the time, because let’s face it, cooking is damn practical in the long run, especially if you’re doing it in all available spare time.

The problem is all the shit that goes with cooking. If I give the appearance of being that domestic, it seems like all these other expectations seem to rear their ugly heads– that I’m boring, settled, and love being a lonely homebody. Even better, I can’t wait to be someone’s wife, I love home renos, and that’s all I want to talk about.

My party, while it was wonderful to see everyone that visited me, was not so great. It isn’t the first time I’ve thrown a shindig and basically botched the whole hostess thing. I think basically I can do everything to throw a party together very well, except for the “life” of the party. Part of this I think is because my social skills are possibly degrading– I’m very out of touch with my friends and who they’ve become. None of us are ever out of touch with the world, it’s a generational trait that we are always in the know (actually to the point of being a cliche), but it’s easier to relate to world events and things outside of ourselves, than to who we are changing into as adults.  An easier way of putting it, is that we no longer have the intimacy in our “group” that we used to– I’m fairly certain it’s a natural thing, but I’m also pretty sure that I’ve shot all my friendships in the foot by living out here. That said, I don’t think moving back to the city is a solution to that either.

Ultimately, I think I just have to fix my brain. I feel like I am no longer a compelling person to know, like I don’t really offer much in the way of anything to anyone. I don’t know how I’ve gotten to this point, but it feels like everything I’ve ever accomplished has had some aspect of snake oil to it.  One thing I will give the countryside is there is much more purity in my actions. I’m less inclined to do stupid things, get into stupid trouble, have stupid drama, and more inclined to just putter away and do productive quiet and creative things, but this is making me a dullard. I don’t regret moving here, and I don’t regret that I can’t do foolish or impulsive things as much, but I do feel like I am compelling no one in any way, affecting no one at all by my presence or my absence. It’s kind of weird.

I think possibly the thing about it is that I don’t know where I’m at as far as self importance. You know the phrase, “get over yourself?” I used to know lots of people who could not ever get over themselves, and always tried to stay away from it, but I have to say that I think by constantly being cognizant of this I can’t help but wonder if I am still just incredibly self-absorbed.

Oh Livejournal….blah blah blah.

John is not getting me a Christmas present. But Chris will. Ain’t that a kick in the head?  I feel like my life is doomed as far as personal relationships go. Everything is wrapped up in John though, for a few reasons. He is my best friend, he understands me (when he cares to, and tries to), he’s very smart, good looking, and he makes me laugh.  My hopes and my goals are all wrapped up in him, which seems dangerous, because I can’t say I’ve truly done that before, but I’m so tired of fighting through relationship bullshit. On the same note, I’m tired of the crap too. I know I’m subpar as a woman at best, that I can’t afford to be picky (it has taken me a long time to realize this important fact, admittedly), but I still know I don’t deserve to be treated like shit. John though, I can get mad at, at least. He sees the err of his way, we talk about it, and he’s good…for a little while, before he slips on back into doing the thing that upsets me (i.e. treating it like  a chore to do nice things for me, that I ask him to do, because he wouldn’t think of them otherwise). If I’m lucky he doesn’t fall back into being a jerk, but both of us still have immature aspects of our natures that rear their ugly heads.

All this said, I feel like I’m wasting my life. Every day I feel like I just have to pass the time, like I’m waiting for something, and that something I’m waiting for might blow up in my face (and have ended up taking nearly five years of my life to do so). I think if I had more money I wouldn’t feel this way, because I could do other  things, but nope…saddled with home, saddled with debt.

I’m going to need a change soon, because I don’t like this path. I think I could rent the house out and travel, perhaps, but I’d still need the lump sum, fight with my parents (and John) about travelling alone, animal care, and time off. Time off is easy (and soon to be easier) to get though. I also get a raise in February, so that might do some damage. That said, there’s all this shit that needs to be done with the house that I know I ought to get out of the way first. And I do enjoy the house, but it is a lot of empty and alone sometimes.  It might be better to make improvements on it and just sell it and find something smaller. It is ideal for raising a family in, but I’m starting to give up on that silly notion too.