Heal thyself

In a rare burst of not crazy, I've decided today is revisionist history day (as originally declared by Dr. Ronald WB Reagan).

To that end my plan is to go home for absolutely no reason. Home home.

I'm fresh out of a nearly 5 year relationship that included a (brief?) engagement. I'm potentially moving into a new house, the largest purchase and investment in my life and the biggest location transition (my first city residence ever). I'm applying for jobs after working the longest job of my life. I also still am haunted by stupid, fuzzy, unimportant memories from my past. Daily.

Many years ago, 12? 14? I went -home- with someone who became my girlfriend and had grown up in that area. I do hear it's ghetto as fuck today (lakes, walking paths, townhomes, and ghetto). I have no reason or purpose, but I've decided that as many times as of thought I should go "home" and walk around to see ... to what I have no idea ... but to chase ghosts - my ghosts. This time I won't be flirted with / flirting and then dating a married fucking woman (lessons you shouldn't have to learn 101) (dating after separation but still).

Ugh (pause) can we just give in and make up some conversational pauses punctuation? Pause for effect, sigh.

I don't expect any giant revelations, but I'm definitely searching for something. Answers. Perspective. Accurate data from which to formulate plans of action.

I am confused. I don't know what I want: in relationships, love, humping, career, money, athletic life plans...I mean I have all choices to make, and not overall unhappy choices to face either, but I have some areas I have to pick a direction and then stick with it; or I think I do. I don't trust my feelings, I can't read anyone else's feelings with any degree of accuracy, and the more I think about it the less I trust my "data," my memories upon which so much of my life, so many of my overreaching priorities, are based. What if my entire value system is based on faulty data?

How will walking around trees correct faulty memories? I touched Cindy Keener in the fort...how is this helpful information? Was her long blonde hair why I loved Jane my 2nd fiance? Ugh, now I'm making fun of myself. Here's an argument smart man - your options today were shopping, working out, playing video games all day (which would seem lame if fb didn't tell me how many of my friends spent all day watching miserable dying people dodging walking dead (spoilers)). So walking around nothing, chasing ghosts, is no dumber than doing virtually nothing. If I chase ghosts and find none in that there is a lesson.

I think there is something to be said to going and finding nothing. I think that's a validated discovery in and of itself, if applicable. "In the search itself is discovery." Perhaps the reoccurring lesson is "I'm an idiot." There would be some release in that - why try to date someone at all then? Why not just be a giggidy forever, a physical alcoholic moving from empty sexual experience after empty sexual experience, happy drunk and sad in varying degrees based on the last sexing?

A dumb course of action is better than no course of action, says me, right now.

Crazy post

I told Janna I was heading to monkey village and she thought that was crazy; it is. I joked I should be wearing a trenchcoat, but the more accurate truth would be a red and blue windbreaker or perhaps denim jacket...oh oh oh member's only with shoulder straps that do nothing, suede after I had a job.

Played classic rock on the way out - including keeping it on through songs I hated (I always remember hating soft 70s songs, or was that my attempting to be masculine?).

Played through some memories in no order for no reason: Kelly in a nightgown that she thought was sexier than I did, how she looked in those poses she saw in a magazine, that guy spitting on my back in the arcade and the pretty girls that laughed about it, Marc's lie-story about telling black guys that Aerosmith made that walk this way song, running from a large group of black guys (driving) from the High's parking lot after Greg heard chatter on the cb when he was rumored to have ripped someone off in a drug deal, that guy in the YMCA sticking his penis in my ear and his friend scolding him, me picking on Tony Wang in the same place - his father telling him not to react to such bad behavior and neither of us thinking much of that advice, then...just places, places I was.

It's been raining all day, not the sprinkles ending soon they stated at 6 this morning. I stopped for lunch in a chinese restaurant, cheap, in what was once the village mall. Oddly heard a couple black guys, sketchy looking, talking to the host ... asking for someone, told he was cooking, and one complained they had just driven all the way here from DC. They were shown to the back where they were for some time, left just as scowly as they looked when they came in. Now that shit's curious.

I have no idea what I am actually doing out here.

Post apolalyptid roundup: You can't go back so you might as well move on.

I've thought about returning for literally years, but my walk around the place took only an hour; I'll spend more time commuting than being here. Yes, the signs are the place has gone downhill in a lot of ways. The tunnel where I got high and was robbed (by a ubiquitous group of black guys (one of whom I knew, Artie Fisher)) that Jen and I compared racist, punk, ghettabulous, and stoner graffitti is completely gone - filled in with dirt so you'd never know it was there. The YMCA is completely gone. Giant is even folded, now a global foods. As I was told, Mills Choice is now Heron's cove, though the street signs still are labeled Mills Choice. I saw a window with a window a/c unit though they all have central.

When I walked here with Jen it was magic, but that magic was inside her head, my head, and we desperately wanted to hump which likely skewed the impression. We wanted to hump a LOT.

Today I ... I keep remembering, but it's nothing important. Who lived where, the trees that are gone, names. I would remember something, remember their name, shrug. Nothing. What's in a name, the memory exists but isn't important.

I looked at my old house, it and many of the neighbors were in so-so to bad condition. Across the street a house had condemned and winterized warnings all over the door. Like you would if you went any place you used to go, there were things that changed, and things that did not change.

I was not flooded with memories. Not from my childhood, not from my tweens, teens, or 20s. There was and is no magic here, and no magic answers. I caught no ghosts, so it's only me that's haunted.

So you can't go back; probably shouldn't go back. Might as well move forward.

(no subject)

Took my car to the estimate place today, and that came in at like 1800 which is less than I expected; they also call my car worth $5,000. Really, a 2000 civic that kbb says is 3500? Ok! So no new car for me, I have to fix the timing belt, exhaust, water pump, valve cover gasket, window switch, and headlight fog after all. On the major plus side, my first new car is still running fine and utterly familiar.

Annoying is the fact my policy has a subsidy for rental car, but limited to $20 daily (lower than all rental rates). However, if I take my car to the shop they use, I would get a free rental car / loaner! But wait...they don't give you a loaner if you have rental coverage...yes, you read that right - by paying extra for coverage, I'm penalized when I need a repair. Oh we're having WORDS with my insurance broker guy tomorrow.