Putting a Foot in the Stirrup
This is me. Putting a foot in the stirrup. In hopes of mustering the inspiration to climb into the saddle. And ride again.
I’ve been wanting to return to blogging for weeks, now. I’ve been lying awake at night, running posts through my tired head. Manipulating the language. Finding just the right words. Wanting to be amazing. Still.
Among my multiple nervous breakdowns I suffered throughout my college career, one of them specifically hinged on my inability to be great. I had fallen into pieces on my friend’s kitchen floor one morning just past 2 a.m. Crumpled and covered in snot, I howled that I had never been amazing at anything. And that, regardless of what anyone believed, I was not going to be amazing at anything in the future.
My friend kneeled down beside me and said something relating to how he knew my father had made me to go away to college while my siblings were left at home for community college, yadda, yadda, oh the pressure of expectations, and so forth, yadda, yadda. My friend, although at Penn State with me, was also from my hometown. He understood the expectation of amazing and how I was assumed a shooting star. But I’m not shiny. And I hate to fly.
Finally, still sitting with my friend on his kitchen floor, he had asked me, if I had a choice in the matter, what would I have chosen as a path in life.
“A refrigerator repair technician,” I answered.
“Oh.”
It was an honest answer to a genuine question. To date, I’d still like to know the inner workings of automatic refrigeration. I’d like to know why my food heats within 30 seconds of exposure to microwaves, but I have to put ice in a glass if I want a cold drink.
Don’t get me wrong, as always. I don’ t use ice in my beverages. I prefer to drink my soda at room temperature. Which might lead you to believe that I have no reason to acquire an understanding of automatic refrigeration. And if that’s what you’re wondering, you have just, on your very own accord, validated my response to my friend when asked the question while sitting in the dark on his kitchen floor in the wee hours of a morning 20 years ago.
For no reason at all. Just to know. Just to do. Just to be.
So, today I opened this page, and started typing. For no reason at all. Just to know I’m still here. Just to do what I like to do. Just to be me.
Maybe next week I’ll hoist that second leg over the saddle.
February 25, 2010 at 12:22 am
Beware hedonistic adaptation.
I always wanted to trade medium term governments. No I didn’t. Yes I did. Well, sort of. It was something I used to think about while sitting in physical chemistry class learning about spectroscopy, and why O-H bonds in water absorbed microwave radiation between 0.1 and 20 wavenumbers, thereby heating them by increasing their rotational energy.
Anyway, hedonistically speaking, after I got to do what I wanted (the financial equivalent of fixing refrigerators), I found that I wasn’t allowed to stop. Then it wasn’t quite so much fun after that.
But it was fun for a while.
April 5, 2010 at 1:26 am
Whoa, glad I stopped by and saw this update; albeit a few months late. Keep it up. Whether you realize it or not there are others like me who still miss the updates.
April 5, 2010 at 8:56 am
Very insightful and true, Aron. But is that how we spelled your name?
HEY MATT!!!!! Yeah for stopping by! After a lovely holiday weekend with Spanky, I have decided to do three things. Spanky, as you would know if she ever catered to her audience, is in the process of a 360 life turn-around, and, with the wind beneath her wings, is compelled to lecture me on my own stand-still. Here are the three things I’m going to shoot for:
1. Lose ten pounds.
2. Write one chapter of something every day.
3. Post a weekly Friday blog update.
April 16, 2010 at 11:41 pm
Sooo, I’ve been here a few fridays in a row and no updates???
April 25, 2010 at 10:39 pm
Yes – you are correct. Aaron is the appropriate spelling. Aaron… spelling… I’ll remember that.
I too had been wondering about the frequency and nature of your blog updates, but I had come to suspect that I had made a grave error, after composing a not-insubstantial addendum to my first comment, without response.
You see, instead of updating my earlier comment here at sissythings.wordpress.com, I had erroneously posted (and then was forced to expunge) that lengthy additional comment at sissythings.blogspot.com.
How embarrassing. It was a simple error, of course. It could happen to anyone. And the owner(s) of the blogspot site were good natured about the whole incident.
But not before it blew my train of thought, however.
Sincerely, Aaron
April 26, 2010 at 8:52 am
Typical blog activity. I’m often lost in the sea of sissy things.
A new post is in the works. These things take time, you know. I am an arteest and must write my “weekly” posts with astute attentitiveness.
What I really need a new bleepin’ job. One in which people do not expect things within deadline. One in which people do not expect anything from me at all. That would be a good job for me. Zero timelines. Zero expectations.
April 26, 2010 at 9:54 am
Can I work for you? I’m sure you’ll find that my resume is PERFECT. I mean, it’d better be, seeing as how you looked at it.
Don’t forget about my oak tree farming idea. Right up your alley. Just don’t get involved with trees that are within 50 years of harvesting. And make sure you look for a farm where the trees are already planted. Let me know if you need more info… I’ve done a lot of research about this. Lots of research. (Frankly, the research consists mainly of reading Henry Thoreau essays, but that should be sufficient.)
April 26, 2010 at 10:15 am
Throughout much of my childhood, my father would spend family outtings and vacations randomly picking acorns up off the ground and hoarding them in his pockets. He claimed that the oak tree was the grandest off all foliage. He meticulously planted acorns all over his property, but to no avail. He also read Thoreau.
Months ago, just days before you revealed the nature of a tatoo to me, I walked into a Barnes and Noble and purchased a copy of “The Book of Air and Shadows” by Michael Gruber. I meant to say something in between the air on your ankle and some additional reference, but never did.
These are among the things I mean to tell people, but get distracted by the nature of picking things up off the floor of my life. Sometimes I plant the things. Sometimes I forget about them.