bombs

So all of a sudden this morning, Raf’s all “well, I’d like to have a kid.” I thought that was out, but I guess not… I had kind of resigned to the fact that while I wouldn’t mind, and would even embrace, bringing a life into the world with him, that such things are best left to people who don’t use “wouldn’t mind” and “bringing a life into the world” in the same sentence. Kids, I think, should be left to people – women especially – who are all kinds of wanting to have kids in a hardcore way, who know from being children themselves that being a mom is something they want from the insides of their bones almost.

That doesn’t really seem like me, and I don’t want to go into something like this on a maybe. I’m saying all this like it’s something we are going to do tomorrow, I know, but still… I see pursuing a strong sense of self and doing things like living on the beach and taking vacations as life, but with kids in tow as things left to the rich and famous, and not necessarily a good template for the everyday people. I do have those maternal pangs, and wonder if I’ll die all old and alone (as far as family goes) if we choose not to get pregnant. But I just don’t see how it would work, not like that stops me from doing stuff, but… but but but. I don’t know if I’m unselfish enough to not want to do all the stuff I want to do with my life. Over the next few years, saving up and getting married and buying a little house or a little brownstone condo downtown, all of that seems like enough. And to get through all that, and to breathe, and to look around and love my life more every day, and to write, and to photograph, and all that – it’s not like all of that is mutually exclusive from rearing children but there’s this whole issue of the Clock that throws it all into a tailspin. It’s ticking, this Clock, they talk about it all the time… so let’s say in about 4 years we’re married, maybe have money for a down payment on a little place, and have gotten through or almost through our bachelor’s degrees – then I’m 36, it’s getting late, and really we’d probably have to do all of that a little earlier on… and I just don’t want it like that. I want to be able to pick, to say, here is this phase of my life and here’s that phase, and I don’t know if men really get it because they could run around impregnating women until they were like, sixty or seventy. Seriously.

So now all that’s rattling around in my head.

It’s cold by this window, the big freeze has settled in and it’s like eighteen degrees out or something.

I don’t think I want kids… I have pangs of wanting a child… Raf is the only person I’ve even ever considered it with… well, the Clock isn’t about to explode or anything, so it’s not like I’ve got to get a handle on it today. It’s just unnerving. But nothing is happening right now, so that’s enough of that.

So I like working with / for Denise. As much as I know her and think she’s wonderful, as much as she makes me cutlets and meatballs and does a little bit of mom-time (even though she doesn’t seem old enough to, but it’s just this way she’s got about her) it’s a job. A job I’m interested in, a job that should take me to bigger and better places, a job working for someone I believe in, a job where I’m not selling anything, a job where I get to drive around and take pictures all day – it’s a job. There’s no bullshit, there’s always just a big pile of work and we just… work, and the pace is fast and there’s always stuff to do and we work until it’s done or until we burn out and… there’s just no crap. None. No baggage, no anything, just computers and typing and driving and reports and goals and all good stuff.

I’ve felt weird about all the job hopping, but I need to know where I fit, and I’m not going to know how shoes fit without trying them on, you know? It feels like the last job was a pair of shoes that looked great but hurt my feet, and before that they were shoes I found on sale that I thought were as good as fancy shoes but then they fell apart, and then before that they were shoes that seemed right but wound up not matching anything else and I just felt all awkward and had to convince myself to wear them. There’s got to be a balance…do a job you like, make decent money, and have enough resources (money, time, energy) to spend on the things that really make the big part of your life worth it all. I’ve gone to all the extremes, tons of money but unhappy, shit money and a shit job, shit money and a good job… I need to find decent money and a decent job. And I don’t think it’s any kind of coincidence that all this photography stuff is happening, now yesterday Raf’s cousin Kristen called me and said someone at work needs someone to shoot their wedding in May. Last night, I brought it up with Donna briefly, and she said that when the cup’s full, the cup’s full – that there’s no room for anything else unless you dump some of it out (of course, all in relation to the cup being full of not all good stuff). So I dumped out my cup, or maybe I spilled it accidentally on purpose, I don’t know.

Nada Surf! I love this song.

(tripping in 7-11 / the shelves were stretching out of control… I miss you more than I know…)

I miss you more than I know… it’s nice not to be pining away and missing anyone that much, to be caught up in a pile of heart-wrenching lovesongs where something is just blowing people apart, or that it’s so real that you just can’t breathe, like any of that could sustain for forever, like it does in the lyrics – I thought things were just supposed to be all extreme like that all the time… a woman in a meeting said recently that she learned about relationships from Joni Mitchell and Jack Daniels. Not that elements of that aren’t good, but she was all in the context of everything being a train wreck all the time. I never thought I’d say it, but I like it that the bulk of my life is normal. When it’s boring, it’s because I need to be doing more of the things that set me on fire, or because I’ve chosen to rest and recharge and relax – not because I’m stuck somewhere I hate. I cook dinner and I like when it snows in New Haven and it’s a wonderful day when I make the time to write in the morning. I don’t mind excitement, but I don’t need much to be happy.

I feel like I don’t have the right words for everything this morning and that I’m not being accurate. I should go.

vvb