funny familiar forgotten feelings

Little things make me take stock. I just got my lease renewal letter in the mail the other night. It’s hard to believe I’ve been in my place for a year, but there it is. Thankfully the rent is only going up by $30 a month, hardly crippling. It’s more like deciding what monthly subscription to cancel, or which week I won’t look at Amazon’s Friday sale to make that up. I’m grateful in that pretty much everyplace I’ve lived in, in DC, has been pretty nice, or had enough character to ignore the not-so-nice things. Even the apartment in Alexandria was cute (and large), just a little far out.

It was that apartment in Alexandria that sparked off my feeling of “move for yourself, find what you want.” Not that I was intentionally moving for anyone else, but I first moved out there because I had a good friend right down the road, less than a few minutes. Unfortunately that friend had an ego the size of his weekly beer budget and I was not willing to be an actor in his staged play of life and we stopped hanging out. I’ve tried at times to reconnect, but with him, everything has to be on his terms, no compromise. Not really surprising why some of my recent ex’s are ex’s. Still when the first year was up and I got the letter from the rental office, I took a long time to decide what I would do, and even though I felt isolated and alone, I stuck it out vs. the trouble of moving again. I eventually did move, into a roommate situation that went from good to absolute hell, and now I’m on my own again.

The place I live now wasn’t chosen for its proximity to anyone in particular, it may have subconsciously been chosen for its distance from the person I was dating at the time. But primarily it was a nice place, in one of my favorite neighborhoods (even though it had changed a little bit over the years) and I really do love it. I do happen to live pretty close to some of my friends, though the ones that are the closest, I don’t really see that often unless it’s for pre-scheduled events.

This past week, I e-mailed some people asking about their plans for the 4th. It was a few days to the weekend, but I had talked with various people and all seemed interested in doing something, we just didn’t know what. So I thought I’d bring a few of my good friends together, some of which having never met and we’d have a nice time. Unfortunately only one person got back to me and seemed pretty busy, so I then put out a “general” call on my LJ to which there was no response. After that, two of the people I e-mailed posted to their LJs that they were either free and “does anyone want to do something” or “here’s what I’m doing, hope to see you there!” The optimist in me has offered up various reasons that a personal e-mail doesn’t rank as highly as a generic LJ-blitz, and why both were passed over. The pessimist in me gave the optimist a black eye for being so fucking cheerful.

Which brings me back to my original thought. I still feel pretty isolated most of the time. I find myself doing things alone because I’ve learned and been burned by trying to ask others ahead of time to do things. With the exception of a friend or two, I’m not on “the list” of people who get called or e-mailed out of the blue to meet for lunch or dinner or go to movies. It makes me wonder if I’m that difficult.. abrasive.. uninteresting.. to be around. Or maybe I just want to do things that absolutely no one else is interested in. I talked myself into and out of going to the Jazz in the Sculpture Garden about 10 times, mostly because I was annoyed at having to go by myself, but I still went, read a book, enjoyed the jazz and went home. I enjoy going out for a drink at Happy Hour every now and again, but the task of wrangling people to go turns into such a chore when you’d think that it wouldn’t be hard to have a few drinks, a few laughs and then let the rest of the evening work itself out. I guess that’s why people say “I’m going here tonight, join me if you want!” It’s hardly personal, but removes the burden from one’s own shoulders. With the still kinda-public-ness of my journal, I doubt I’ll be doing anything like that since it’s more than just LJ people reading, there’s just too many .gov’s and other familiar addresses showing up in my site logs to want people knowing where I am ahead of time.

So my second year living back on my own starts next month and I suppose it’s a natural progression for things to turn inward. Getting my place in order, getting rid of old stuff… trying to make the next move even easier than the last, maybe even making my place reflect a little more of my personality than just a place I’m staying temporarily. There are some friends that I want to make a better effort to make closer friends and others that I have to decide how much energy to invest if, for the most part, it isn’t really returned.

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1 Response

  1. Jason says:

    Well that was a brain dump and a half. I hear you on most of your rants. I actually saw a book the other day that I want to pick about a quarter life crisis. Not that I’m saying you’re having one, but I know I am. I am beginning to question some portions of my life and not be so naive of my surroundings. If you ever want to get together, you have my contact information. I’m always up for a Saturday perusing museums or just out walking the streets with my camera. I don’t get to that much, but would jump at the opportunity. Just tossing that out there.

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