Beautiful Music

As it says in my "about me" section, I am single and looking. The main form that my looking takes is via online dating. I've been at it for about 18 months, and while I've not had amazing success, I've had better luck there than meeting men in the 'real world'.

So this week I came across a profile that I hadn't seen before. Well, that's not quite right--I had seen his blog quite a while before, but for some reason had never looked at his full dating profile. But this time I did.

He appears to be quite a delightful man! Nice pictures, articulate text, and he's a musician, as am I. So I sent an e-mail earlier this week, and he kindly responded, with some rather encouraging words, leading me to believe that we might hit it off.

Ball's in my court, so I send off a thoughtful yet amusing response. And....nothing. Three days, and nothing. I can see that he's been online, so it's not that he hasn't had an opportunity to read it.

I was torn. This particular dating site is rather notorious for "eating" messages--entire e-mails will simply never be delivered, and you're never told. So I've hemmed and hawed, and finally decided I couldn't handle it. I sent a follow-up e-mail earlier this evening.

No response so far, so I don't know if he's going to think I'm some cyber-stalker (I'm not), or pathetic (I guess I could be), or if he'll be flattered that I was interested enough to follow up (I am!)

This is the part I hate--waiting, not knowing, wondering what the other person thinks. I'm not a good person for "possibilities"--I like actualities much better. Let me settle into what I know, don't make me deal with a hundred "what if's".

But there's nothing more to do--if he does not respond again, I will not chase him down. I will take it as a lack of interest, and move along. Disappointing, because I think we could have made beautiful music together.

Swept aside

The office was hot and stuffy, a sweltering sweatbox 3 months before schedule. The early evening light was muted as I pushed open the doors as I headed home.

An immediate change in atmosphere made me catch my breath. I had watched the breeze blowing all day, but had not felt it. Now, freed from the confines of work and duty, I felt drawn out, beckoned by a cool hand caressing my skin.

I took my time as I headed to my car. I rarely take time to enjoy a breeze, but this was more than just a simple whisper of air--these are Santa Ana winds, blowing strong and sure and not caring who is in their path. Though they are warm winds, they felt cool to my overheated skin.

I stood in the wind's embrace, feeling as though I was in a stream. My shadow stretched out long and low before me, casting me as a latter-day Medusa.

Bathed in the winds, held, caressed and moved by its power.

Warm my globe

I'm not much of an activist. It's not because I don't believe in causes, but because I don't believe in people. I'm a person, so you'd think I'd be more understanding and sympathetic. But basically, I think that people don't want to be inconvenienced, and so they ignore any message that would require them to make changes.

So I don't hold out a whole lot of hope for the USA's response to imminent climate change. Even in a culture that is so obsessed with our kids (our schedules revolve entirely around our kids, much different than it was even in my parents' generation) we cannot be made to care about the future of the earth they will inherit from us.

But I want to do my part. I drive a very small car that gets good gas mileage. But I feel that even that is not enough, so I have started cycling. I'm not good enough yet to use it as my main form of transportation, but that is my goal.

My family thinks I'm more than a little nuts. They don't think I'll stick to it. I know that it's going to be tough. Southern California is definitely a car culture, and there are long distances to travel. But the benefits so far outweigh the costs that I really can't continue to ignore the obvious any longer.

I hope our self-indulgent culture wakes up soon and realizes that we are on the brink of catastrophe. There is no Imminent Domain, no God-given right to consume and own and take and use and cast away. The world sees us as greedy and arrogant, and they have a valid point.

I am just one small voice, but I will continue to speak truth wherever and whenever I can. As the old Bible school song goes, "This little light of mine, I'm gonna let it shine." I'm just going to use a renewable resource to fuel it. :)

Conversation in Reverse

I commute to school and to work 5 to 6 days a week. I'm usually alone in my car (yeah, I know--bad for the environment. I'll be making some changes soon.)

One of the things that I like to do is watch other people in their cars. Not while I'm driving, mind you, but at those points where we are stopped. Generally, I watch in my rear view mirror, since I can see faces that way.

Watching a conversation in reverse is a little odd--trying to figure out who started the discussion, what they are talking about, is it a good conversation, or are they arguing, are they related or just friends--all the little things that go into a tale are right there behind me.

I've been caught watching a few times--the driver or passenger will get a furrowed brow, then try to nonchalantly tell the other person that they are being watched. I don't count it as eavesdropping, since I can't hear what they're saying, and I can't read lips even when face-to-face, so in reverse would be hopeless. Yet I suppose that when we are in our cars, we enter our own private bubble, a mini-universe of our own, and knowing that someone else is watching you bursts that illusion.

I think my favorite part is the gesticulations--all the movements that we make as we communicate. I try to figure out what point they're emphasizing. Sometimes, I make up my own story to go along with their motions.

Man, I need a shorter commute!

Alive and Kicking

Appropriate sentiment for Easter, I suppose.

My two weeks of havoc are finally over. I got through the holiday, got through meeting the new love in my brother's life, got through a houseguest for the weekend, got through my crazy work shenanigans.

Things can return to the staid, placid pace to which I am most accustomed. Of course, I don't really anticipate that lasting too long, either, as my sister typically has projects that either require help, or require me to be busy so she doesn't bark at me for not working as hard as she is working.

I don't have any major projects of my own, just schoolwork and some books I want to read.