The last day of work, delayed, yet I’m still laid off.
As a life long single person, I’m quite comfortable dating myself. For a long time I’ve assumed I didn’t date myself. Another positive aperçu from 2020.
An overcast day… Perfect for Netflix and chill with the cats.
I feel like watching a kids movie…
Madagascar 2: whatever
I turn to Madagascar 2. I’ve seen it once before and remember nothing about it. It sucks. Sucks because the writing is awful. There no conflict, and every plot point resolved with dues ex machina bs. There’s no tension or intrigue. It’s 90 minutes of animals moving around and a classic case of “And then” writing. At worst, it teaches terrible lessons like “Love has no boundaries”, or, uncomfortably racist when all the zebra’s are identical to Chris Rocks zebra character.
10 minutes later and I’m already forgetting about it. Won’t be watching that again.
My guess is that it’s purpose is to distract kids for 90 minutes while parents get a break.
3:56pm PST in a Seattle winter feels like 6:56pm Seattle fall.
The princess and the frog
Seeking a better movie, I choose The Princess and the frog. It’s even better than I remember. Amazing movies like this have a hypnotic quality that make it impossible not to watch or be distracted by the allure of a smartphone.
Truly an under rated disney classic. It’s got voodoo, new Orleans jazz, a gator that wants to play trumpet in a jazz band, the classic disney animated style, and a fresh take on their classic princess genre. All wrapped in a New Orleans cajun flair.
I really wish I chose to watch The Princess and the frog first!
It’s a shame that disney only does those lame remakes these days. I don’t understand why people pay for a lesser live action remake.
I shouldn’t be feeling this way. I shouldn’t be afraid.
Why? It’s Tuesday.
The worst possible things have already happened to me. It was my fault.
Zapped of energy, laying on the couch.
A human anchor.
What am I afraid of?
That I’m too old at 34 to be a good human.
That it’s too late to turn life around.
I’m afraid that I’m crazy. When is it a flaw, and when is it mental illness?
I’m afraid that nobody will love me in a romantic way.
I’m afraid that I will hurt someone. That I won’t be able to handle it.
Anxiety is torture because you think the thoughts above… And the following:
I am enough, as I am now.
I am not a victim. I am capable.
It’s not too late. It’s never too late.
You ain’t too old yet.
You’ve been here before. You’ve handled it well, and not. You are learning from your mistakes.
Everyone is worthy of love.
Being worried about causing harm shows you have empathy. It shows that you are considerate of others.
Everyone makes mistakes. You choose whether to learn from it, or not. It’s your choice.
You know, maybe I’m feeling anxious because the air quality sucks right now.
My kitten Coconut has been sneezing through the day. All the windows inside are shut.
Maybe a month left of summer here in Seattle.
The emerald city is covered by smog.
Last night around 10:30pm, I could smell the smoke rolling in the space between the houses. Smelled like a mix of alder wood and weed.
Fuck it, I want cold rice and pickles.
Time for a cold shower.
Song of the post:
The 54321 Grounding Method
Here is a DBT skill I learned this week. It’s called 54321. So you choose a sense: Taste, Smell, See, Hear, Touch, and noticed that number of things in the room around you with the number until you have calmed yourself.
The 54321 grounding technique is simple, yet powerful. Like gradually attaching anchors to the boat, this method slowly pulls you back to earth.
First, take a moment to become mindful of your breath. Just a few deep breaths invite your body back into the moment, slowing everything down. Then, become aware of your environment.
Look For 5 Things You Can See: Notice the wood grain on the desk in front of you. Or the precise shape of your fingernails. Become aware of the glossy green of the plant in the corner. Take your time to really look and acknowledge what you see.
Become Aware Of 4 Things You Can Touch: The satisfyingly rough texture of the car seat. Your cotton shirt against your neck. If you like, spend a moment literally touching these things. Maybe notice the sensation of gravity itself, or the floor beneath you.
Acknowledge 3 Things You Can Hear: Don’t judge, just hear. The distant traffic. The voices in the next room. As well as the space between sounds.
Notice 2 Things You Can Smell: If at first you don’t feel like you can smell anything, simply try to sense the subtle fragrance of the air around you, or of your own skin.
Become Aware Of 1 Thing You Can Taste: The lingering suggestion of coffee on your tongue, maybe?”
More on it here:
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It’s been awhile since this pitcher and I were on the same team. We met on a team in its 5th year. Uniforms in black and white. I was learning to play the outfield again, she was training in the bullpen. She has the traits every good team wants: a strong work ethic, talent, leadership, a good teammate.
The team was a fool not to try to keep her.
Our teams faced each other in spring training, but it wasn’t the right time for an at bat.
At the July trade deadline, we would face off on the field. I walked the plate, stepped in, and hit a line drive between 3rd and short. The bat split in two as I hit the ball. The shortstop made a spectacular play! Diving behind the 3rd baseman, snaring the ball in their outstretched glove quickly throwing off kilter to second base to start a double play. I ran as hard as I could.
I was out by a mile. As her team returned to the dugout between innings, we caught eye contact. I tipped my cap. She smiled back. I did everything right, and still failed. Baseball is a cruel mistress. Sometimes the timing isn’t right. The game ends as I sit in the dugout watching the other team celebrate a no hitter. My team heads into the clubhouse. I get up off the bench and walk to the clubhouse from the dugout. I see her look over, smiling still.
I laugh and give her a thumbs up as I leave the field for now. I don’t know when I’ll see her next. Maybe next season.
It’s the last time this season.
I worked harder than I ever did this season. I was prepared for this at bat.
Coach pulls me aside. Says don’t worry about it. It’s a slump. She no-hit the whole team. You made contact and the bat broke. That’s baseball.
She’s on TV talking to reporters. She’ll be a free agent again in the off season. I am too.
We gotta do what best for each of us.
It’s hard not to talk to a friend when you want different things.
But I get it. I’ve been there before. I’m happy for her, but it still hurts to be in a slump.
I don’t mind being a free agent.
I turn off the TV. Maybe next year we will be team mates again. Soon the slump will be over.
I’d rather be the man in the stadium and fail greatly under the lights instead of a spectator.
Thank you for reading this, if you enjoyed it, please give it a like, comment, and share on Facebook. Don’t forget to subscribe to my email list for updates! Please wear a mask outside that covers your mouth and nose, wash your hands, clean your cell phone, and keep your physical distance from others to fight Covid-19!
My last baseball poem didn’t get many views, and it deserves better. I admit the original title is not great:
I can’t write much today because I’m hungover from therapy yesterday. It’s been a busy week. Forgive me if this seems scattered. Well, busy for quarantine. So maybe 20 hours total of work between therapy zoom groups and self care stuff. … I’ve been unemployed too long. The world is a strange place to live in right now.
All this solitary time has shown me who is important in my life. It’s given me time to work through problems, and space to finally be comfortable with myself. I’m glad to be alive. It’s been such a long time since I was so happy being myself. Comfortable being inter-dependent with the world. I’m at peace with my flaws. The light and dark within. I want to be the best possible human I can be.
Here’s a poem I created from a word cloud of all the words in my personal journal. I made this from the top 100 words I said. A nonsense poem.
The pieces turned to molten glass, scattered to the winds, buried.
I’m not trying to be found, but I’d like help.
An adventurous soul willing to help me be reforged anew.
I need a glassmith.
A glassmith interested in my glass.
Someone with a love for me, as hot as a furnace, patient enough to work me through the process.
I’ve been through the crucible furnace. I am open to molding myself anew. Don’t test my integrity.
I’m as much glass as the glassmith.
For a relationship is both.
I’ll only be myself, not what you want me to be.
Just as I want you to be yourself, and not what others think you should be.
I’m… I’m open to your “gloryhole” furnace. (suggestive eyebrow gif)
…LMAO, I can’t believe it’s actually called that!
Believe me, I need to be tempered as much as possible. Got some catching up to do with the other glass.
Please feel free to leer at me suggestively, without malice.
I’ve shattered far too many times from the thermal stress.
Waiting for the right glassmith.
I’ve broken and broken up because…
Right when I heat up for them, they cool off on me, and I break again.
Why doesn’t anyone want to take the time?
I was hooked onto a furnace which was cold to me.
She was warm every so often… but that ain’t enough for love.
That leads to fragile glass.
That broken glass leads to broken hearts.
Broken hearts, broken glass , leaves pain.
I haven’t been formed before by a glassmith, so feel free to use your tools on me.
We’ll find out what I prefer with time, and I’m good with that.
All I want is for someone to choose me, and be patient.
This glass needs some white-hot love so I can feel bright pink hot.
Beneath our sandblasted surface hides delicate emotions and a glass heart.
Men’s feelings are glass too.
So, if it ain’t too much, I’d like to ask the ladies of the world interested in my glass….
Would you please…
Run me through your furnaces, and:
Blow my glass!
Inspired reading from wikipedia: “Glassblowing involves three furnaces. The first, which contains a crucible of molten glass, is simply referred to as “the furnace”. The second is called the “glory hole”, and is used to reheat a piece in between steps of working with it. The final furnace is called the “lehr” or “annealer”, and is used to slowly cool the glass, over a period of a few hours to a few days, depending on the size of the pieces. This keeps the glass from cracking or shattering due to thermal stress. Historically, all three furnaces were contained in one structure, with a set of progressively cooler chambers for each of the three purposes.” https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Glassblowing
As I was finishing this post today, I realized that I did not have any relevant pictures of glass, glassmithing, or things to take photos of. So, I worked with what I did have, the roses outside my room which bloom every June. This is the most sexual, or lewd thing I have written so far.
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The world of autism spectrum disorders is constantly changing and we at Seattle Children’s Autism Center are eager to share with parents and caregivers what we continue to learn. This blog is designed to be a resource on autism as well as to give you an opportunity to comment on our posts and engage with our experts.