The Alternate Lexicon
Currently viewing the tag: "friends"
It’s slow, this process. Change passwords, make previously open things private. Extricate myself from your life one photo at a time.
I cry, sometimes without warning or explanation. I am relieved, grateful when my coworkers say they’ll miss me, give me phone numbers and talk of a party. Parties terrify me; I loathe them to the depths of my being, but they don’t have to know any of that because I appreciate the consideration. None of them are friends, but they’re nice enough people.
We talked about that, once. Friendship was an exclusive club to the two of us, something we extended rarely and selectively. We talked about how valuable it was, and how glad we were to have found each other. I believed every word of it.
I believed every word of it. You told me, so it must be true.
I doubt you think of me, or miss me, or have any regrets. Spending a day with your husband (and his friend) was more important than seeing someone who had been your best friend of seven years, at considerable expense and travel on my part. You’ve never seen where I live. Coming to me has never been an option. I’m only worth your time if I show up and do what you want me to do.
And fuck you, because I would forgive you if you fucking asked. If you had the decency to write and say you missed me, you’re sorry, any gesture of reconcilliation or apology, I would fall over myself to forgive you, because you are my best friend of seven years and I hate not having you in my life. Even though my family have told me time and again that you are not worth my effort or love or trust.
You’re not a nice person. I hope someday you realize it, and feel bad.
If your response to someone being upset with you for your bad behaviour is along the lines of, “Your feelings are your business. You could choose not to be upset,” then you are in sore need of an empathy lesson. I would also strongly remind you that while you cannot “fix” or change another’s emotions, you are always in charge of your own actions: if another person is hurt in reaction to your actions, it would be thoughtful and kind to consider why.
but lately, part of me just crumbles
every time I hear that melody
I have not gotten into the choir for which I auditioned. This is an unprecedented thing, with the exception of a middle school all-state choir that I knew I wasn’t getting into in the first place. I don’t know how to react to it. I was counting on that choir to be a place where I could make friends. A friend. One would be nice.
There’s a choir here in town that I would love to be a part of, but whose audition requirements essentially make it impossible for someone like me to join. I’m not being euphemistic about autsim stuff, though–I’m talking about musical experience. I am a chorister. I don’t sing solo pieces and never have. So requiring that I have a prepared aria means, well, I won’t even audition, because I have no means of preparing; my sheet music reading skills are substandard for the sort of music I’m capable of performing. Further, I’ll own that my voice often sounds reedy and thin alone, but I can bolster a chorus and blend well–and how can a director tell that from me doing a solo piece? Surely one doesn’t want a chorus entirely made of strong soloist voices? There need to be those like me who can shift from part to part and provide a depth of cover.
I hate it here.
Despite the loss of spoons and almost inevitable migraine that will have me in bed tomorrow afternoon through sometime on Tuesday, I have to say that this weekend has been incredible.
I drove up to Staunton yesterday (Saturday) morning, taking a long route through a national forest and over many pretty streams. Lots of wildlife. Last night I saw Kate in a private gig in Charlottesville with Stina, Dylan, and a few other friends (and about 50 strangers), where Keir kissed my cheek/ear and I got sweaty hugs. I’ve just returned from Vienna, Virginia, and another Kate gig. More hugs. A new t-shirt.
Oh, and the part where Kate dedicated Shoebox to me on a whim, explaining how she felt like she should dedicate something to me because I was an American who had been in Melbourne when they were taking any gig they could get, and I’ve seen all of these songs thousands of times, but at least it’d been a while since then.
There was also the part where the audience was so genuinely enthusiastic that she did a real encore, not at all like in Melbourne, where it’s just expected. She was genuinely flustered and pleased, asked for suggestions. After rejecting mine (For The Hundredth Time or Apartment), she accepted Dylan’s early birthday wish for I Got The Way. It was fabulous. I’ll post a video once I have my camera cables. Later, she let him buy her a beer and promised I could pick out songs in the future, as long as I gave them a bit more warning than that.
I will sleep when my insides stop feeling electric.
Damn. I missed Autistic Pride Day, due to the fact that I was driving back from a visit to Staunton and Stina and Dylan, and then there was family and small children here.
So, thanks to stark. raving. mad. mommy‘s post about it, I’ve been inspired to do my own top ten list.
The top ten advantages and disadvantages to my being on the spectrum:
Disadvantage 10 – I’m not always good at communicating clearly and with words other people understand in face-to-face or other spoken conversations, and often miss details because of it.
Advantage 10 – I’m very good at being precise in writing.
Disadvantage 9 – Tiny incongruencies stand out to me, which can be very distracting when reading books with little plot holes or talking with friends.
Advantage 9 – I make a really awesome fact checker and editor.
Disadvantage 8 – My palate is limited by both tastes and textures that I like and dislike, so I end up eating a lot of the same foods over and over.
Advantage 8 – Those foods are often green vegetables, and it makes cooking and grocery shopping low-stress when they could be overwhelming.
Disadvantage 7 – I have trouble picking up on body language that isn’t exaggerated.
Advantage 7 – I can read cats’ body language fluently.
Disadvantage 6 – Large groups of people are overwhelming and likely to make me be very quiet.
Advantage 6 – I make a good listener (when I can hear!).
Disadvantage 5 – When things don’t go exactly how I envisioned them or follow the rules, I quickly progress from annoyed to downright upset.
Advantage 5 – I can plan out how things should go and even plan when I need to be flexible and when I don’t.
Disadvantage 4 – I become obsessed with topics, sometimes quite briefly, to the exclusion of all else.
Advantage 4 – I know a lot about a lot of things.
Disadvantage 3 – My memory can be tricky–I remember things I don’t need to save, and forget why I walked into a room.
Advantage 3 – The semi-photographic quality makes it easy to remember visual information like puzzles, maps, and book layouts.
Disadvantage 2 – I do things the same way over and over, even when it’s not necessarily the best way.
Advantage 2 – I learned to draw by redrawing a picture from a book hundreds of times.
Disadvantage 1 – I have trouble making friends because I’m never quite sure when the right time is to say things or volunteer information.
Advantage 1 – The friends I do make are very close and like me anyway.
In conclusion, here is a slightly blurry picture of my cat wearing a bow tie.
In my head
I repeat our conversations
Over and over
Till they feel like hallucinations
You know me:
I love to lose my mind
It’s less than a week before I have to leave Melbourne, and so much has changed.
I landed and was whisked away to the Windsor Hotel, a beautiful, historic bit of miniature castle, where we had a gorgeous view of Parliament and breakfast in bed and high tea.
We’ve been down to the beach…
And I’ve taken lots of photos of flowers around our neighborhood:
We learned a valuable lesson (and watched a damn lot of Glee):
And then I learned about a medical program that will want me, no strings attached, in Sydney.
I want to go, very much, and could apply next year and sit the Australian version of the MCAT in February. We need to speak to immigration lawyers, I need to get Prosper cleared for immigration. Everything is suddenly on an impossibly fast timeline. I’m in a mild panic.
I wanted to maybe move with the wonderful Sarah to Baltimore, but I’m concerned I won’t be able to get a job that pays enough in just a few months in a new, big, expensive city. I wanted to move to Atlanta, though less than I did a couple months ago. I wanted to live with my mom, even though the idea mildly nauseates me, because it’d be cheap and require little effort. I’m not sure what I am going to do, but it’ll be something. So at least I’ve made the decision to act, and not let the inertia get to me–and that’s the most important step.
I’ve been trying to write a post since I landed in Melbourne. The city feels like home–well, maybe “feels” isn’t actually the word I want there. “Looks” is more accurate. I often have a difficult time noticing that I’m having feelings, let alone identifying them, until they’re big and overwhelming and scary. Melbourne looks like home–and the pieces that have changed were immediately noticable. A slightly modified tram map posted on the stop bench enclosures. A new poster. A finished building or three where I’d left unfinished wrecks. My favourite Safeway is now a Woolworths. Still, most of it is the same. Roses, endless gardens of roses. Cats and unfamiliar-familiar birds, and Kitty. Coffee. Friends and parties where I can’t understand a damn thing because my auditory processing is not up for the task of dozens of conversations at once–and friends who understand that, and seek me out to have quieter (or louder, to drown out the noise) talks. Friends. Plural, and more than just two.
I’ve been trying to write, and utterly failing.
I’ve been thinking about inertia, and how even though I want to write, I can’t make the words come together in any sort of order that makes grammatical sense, let alone sounds like me.
So. I’m well and happy. We’re going to the zoo! I may be able to take photos, if I can just get over the inertia.
ETA: Combined inertia plus spoons plus lack of funds means zoo later. Maybe tomorrow.
