Tryin' to Reason...

I remember the first time I had to deal with a hurricane. I'd been at college in Florida all of two weeks when a monster by the name of Floyd was projected to make a direct hit on Melbourne. Aunt Sandy called me up and said that she'd seen what Andrew had done, this guy was twice as big, and he was headed right for us so she was getting the heck out. In addition to that she said Jim Cantore was broadcasting from Melbourne beach and that's never a good sign.

Lisa and I followed the university's instructions, packed everything we'd just gotten set up into our closets, and disappeared to my Aunt and Uncle's house about 10 minutes away. We nailed down some things outside as my aunt wandered her house with a video camera documenting what she had, when and where she'd bought it, and how much it had been worth. As we made our escape the next morning Floyd turned suddenly and we were saved. Irene smacked us shortly after, but as a category one storm it just seemed like a really windy, rainy day.

I wonder exactly how I decide when to be scared and when not ot be. When Andrew headed for Florida I was watching the weather channel in the safety of my Upstate New York home both in awe of the storm and completely terrified of it. When Floyd came I wasn't scared, but all I wanted to do was run away.

Unless you've been living under a rock, you know how bad of a hurricane season this has been. I was disappointed when Charley came through. He'd delayed the move into my new apartment and all we ended up seeing was a lot of wind and a little bit of rain. I didn't feel like I'd been in a hurricane at all. We hadn't taken him seriously at work either. No one in the office considered covering a computer even though that was the documented procedure once we reached a certain HurCon level.

Then Frances showed up. Derek called saying it was my fault because I'd complained about how weak the last storm had been. As she drew closer I got very nervous and all I wanted to do was get away. On Tuesday they said we'd have Friday off. On Wednesday I drove in with visions of a damaged VAB and a greater sense of urgency that I needed to leave. By that afternoon we had Thursday off as well. This time we covered everything we could at work and hoped we were doing it for nothing, but everyone had a sense that this one was actually going to get us.

Once again I packed everything I could into my closet. I took a few boxes of things I didn't want to lose and said goodbye to the place I'd been calling home for the past few weeks. Liz, TJ and I left for North Carolina that night and watched for days as the storm taunted our coastline. We picked out where in town the reporters were standing and I wondered what I'd have to go back to. Jim Cantore was in Palm Bay this time and you could tell he was sick of the storm too. I can't count the number of times he said "enough already" and told Frances to "just go away."

Um...yea...

I first sat down to post at one o'clock this afternoon. I wrote very little and wondered when the last time was that I'd posted something meaningful. This sent me on at two hour journey through the last four months of my life.

Documenting what turns my life takes on an almost daily basis has proven very valuable to me. It reminds me of my good days and makes me more aware of my bad ones. Over the last two months the amount of writing I've done has decreased quite dramatically. Between storms and server problems I haven't put as much time into sitting with myself as I really should.

My world is an interesting place. Even now I'm surrounded by change and uncertainty. I'm still looking inward as I struggle with who I thought I was versus who it would appear I am. I look at how my life has unfolded since graduation and I just don't know what to think.

But right now my focus has suddenly shifted from that world. I'm thinking about the present. I'm thinking about how to save today because I refuse to lose it. How do I make it worth something? How do I make it count?

And the answer to that is simply that I won't know until it does. So from here I start moving. I make the choice to get up, pick a direction, and go there. Where all of this suddenly comes from is still a mystery to me, but I'm not going to challenge it. So, here I am. It's a beautiful day outside and I'm going to get something accomplished.

Captured At:1534

"But you can't escape the moon..."

A theme I've found recurring in the time I've kept this journal is my love of the sky, especially at night. This evening as I drove toward the beach I adjusted the side-view mirror of my car so I could watch the brilliant sunset taking place behind me. The eastern sky at that time of night is very calm, very relaxing. It gives the water an extra hint of aqua that further compliments the soft colors above it.

And then it got dark. The stars slowly came out and the moon became more visible. I have always loved the moon, but sometimes I wish it would allow me to stay where I am as I watch.

Obviously the moon can't physically relocate me, but something about it captures far more than my attention. Tonight I was drawn to a thin crescent whose light seemed to pulse as I felt more of myself drifting away. I'd hoped that maybe when I left the beach that piece would return, but as I drove home and saw the clouds blocking the light I realized I would be incomplete indefinitely.

Maybe the part that left contains the me who would look to the moon for comfort and answers when I was years younger. Maybe it will return when it's found something good to bring me.

It's nights like this when I worry about myself. I know I'm okay, but I get so lost and it's completely out of my control. The important thing is that I'm still moving, so I'll focus on doing just that until my missing piece returns.

Captured At:2253

Still Alive

It's happening again. I'm having flashbacks. Current track coming through my speakers is "Love of My Life" by Santana and Dave Matthews. It has taken me back to my freshman year and the arrival of my copy of the 5.29.99 show at Foxboro. I remember hearing the song live. I remember it playing in my room at any number of times during that year. That's where this song always takes me, and probably always will.

I also recently acquired a copy of Buffett's "Coconut Telegraph" album. Playing it as I drive to and from work reminds me of driving around with Mom and how often I can remember hearing it. I've been singing Buffett lyrics since I was too young to fully understand what they meant, but I've always felt them. "Island," for example, was my favorite when I was younger. Something about it just spoke to me, though as I've gotten older I see a lot of sadness hidden beneath the sweetness of the notes.

Have I ever mentioned I love music?

Life in Florida has been chaotic lately. In the last six weeks we've been hit by four different hurricanes. The last two came right through my area and I could have done without that. After Frances came through I knew there was no way I could stay in my own building if another storm blew into the area. I left for Liz's before noon on Saturday and by the time 3pm rolled around I was headed for the west coast.

I watched weather changes as the clouds followed me. I raced for blue skies so I could see them one last time before the rains came. I felt the wind and the mist of a weakened system and wondered what it was like at home. Would I even have a home to go back to? I tried not to worry, but getting ready to run away and wait can take a lot out of a person. I'm so tired of unpacking my apartment every few weeks.

My complex was hit badly again. I tell everyone I came through and my apartment is alright, but the truth of the matter is that I was very close to having a large hole in my wall. The siding next to my door was torn off of the building and wrapped through the banister, leaving the wall completely exposed to the elements. If it had been on the front of the building I would have been toasted; the rain would have saturated the material and that would have been it. I was very lucky. I still have a place to live...others didn't fare so well.

Losing my apartment would be terrible, really. I'm just starting to get out on my own and make my adjustments there, but running away all the time is making it difficult. I know I have people who would have taken me in if the place was no longer inhabitable, but I'm not sure how I would have handled losing it.

I know, it's just a building. I know the stuff inside is just a collection of things. I know we rebuild and move on. Still, I don't know that I can take another storm and running away in fear one more time knowing the chances I'll have something to come back to are slim.

This afternoon I found myself looking through last September. It's amazing to me how much my life has changed in a year. It's a lot quieter and a lot less interesting in some ways. I spend at least 8.5 hours at work, 2 on the road, and the rest at home. I hear from Derek more than I used to, but I don't see him very much. I knew things were going to be like that, so I suppose it's just as well we called it quits when we did.

He did stop over here last night though. I still haven't figured out how seeing him makes me feel, but it's good that we can talk to each other. We had an actual conversation too, not just reminiscing. It's amazing how easy it is to remember everything that was good about a relationship as it's falling apart or just after its gone. Becoming reacquainted with the good things is a big part of what kept me going back to Nick.

I've been thinking about him a bit lately. I know he dislikes me greatly now, but I still hope he's doing well. I'd considered emailing him, but I decided against it. I'm probably the last person he wants to hear from. And what is there for me to say? From some angles I was really bad to him. He loved me, there was never any doubt of that, and I just ran him in circles.

The truth is that recently I've begun to realize just how many good things there were in our relationship. What was wrong was pretty big in a lot of ways, but what we did have in the time when things were going well really was nice. That's not to say I'd go back to it, just that I can see it all in ways I never could before. You know what they say about hindsight.

Good people can do bad things. I'd like to believe I'm a good person. I try very hard to be, but becoming one is a continuing process. I hate to look back and think of the people I may have hurt along the way, whether I realized it or not. Maybe I'm not very nice at all and I'm just fooling myself. I don't believe that to be true, but I've been wrong before.

It's been wonderful to sit down here and watch the text on the screen form one letter at a time. I haven't written in a long time and I've missed it greatly. I'm trying to figure out how to get some of the good things that used to be a part of my life back. I bought a new box of colored pencils, but I have no idea what world to create with them. I have a few books I need to get through, but these days all reading does is put me to sleep. I need to get out and walk around more. I love being outside and it's going to get colder soon. Maybe I shouldn't consider porch furniture anymore. If it's going to get cold and then I'm going to leave, what's the point?

So I guess that's me right now. It's approaching 8pm and I'm slowly getting tired. I feel so old. I used to be able to stay up until all hours of the night and I just can't seem to pull it off with the same effectiveness anymore.

Right now I think I'm cocooned. I'm trying to figure out exactly what color butterfly I wish to become before I burst back into the world. While part of me still wants to see everything there is to see, the rest really doesn't want to fly that far. It's still tired from a life lived for other people and things that, in the end, aren't even under my watch anymore.

That's a hard thing to admit, but I'm slowly letting go. Slowly....

Captured At:1956