Meatball Sub and Magnolia

Its an old pic, but it's a turtleneck pic. It will all make sense.

Last night I had an awesome dream. I was sitting at a picnic table amongst a very crowded space lined up with endless picnic tables, packed with people. There was a woman next to me, and my sister across from me. I looked up in the sky and saw a flock of flamingos flying, They started flying towards us, and then swooped right over our heads, shooting back up into the sky. Then the woman next to me, who felt familiar, held my hand in a caring way, giving it a supportive squeeze.

I had to research the meaning because flamingos seem so bizarre, and out of context. It is an indication of collaboration, which I think sounds so absolutely promising after the dispirited dream I had a couple days back.

I dreamt the kids and I were living in a hotel room. It was spacious enough, and looked cozy and clean. I went grocery shopping, and was unsure what to buy, and would pick things up, and then put them back down, thinking we wouldn't be there long enough to make this or that. The dream ended with me vacuuming the carpet. My sight was fixed on the clean red carpet as I'd push the vacuum back and forth.
I woke up enthusiastic to crack the case of what it all could mean, and after starting my quest, I was confronted with some hard realities. Dreaming about being in a hotel room, indicates feeling transient in life, and vacuuming... wait for it... "refers to feelings of emptiness and signifies a loss of control."

And, it's true, gosh darn it!

Im not really an anxious person, and in the last month, Ive felt my heart slightly seize up, it feels like a clenched fist in there. I'm not sure what's going on. There could be number of factors. I used to run and do yoga a lot, and in the last month, haven't had the time to do either more than a handful of times.

In my stats class we talk about correlation and causation, and I show this scatterplot of life expectancy vs. internet usage in the population for every country. The relationship shows a positive trend, so as internet usage increases, the life expectancy increases. My ending point of the lesson is a ridiculous question, "So if we want to increase the life expectancy in Pakistan, all we need to do is increase the internet usage in the population, right?!"
Then there is a chorus or, "Of course not!!"
"And why? Because correlation doesn't mean causation, and, in this case, we have to recognize the lurking variables."

OH KAY. So what could be these lurking variables in the correlation between decreased exercise and increased anxiety. And this is the case for many people, correct? Don't a lot of stress advisors suggest, ramp up on exercise and mediation when feeling vexed by your anxiety and stress?
For starters, it's time. There is not as much time as there used to be to tend to these matters of personal pleasure. My day is jammed packed as it is, and I can't just lace up and hit the streets after tucking my kids in bed, or jump around my apartment, waking those kids and disturbing the peace of the apartment building in the late night or (not gonna happen) early morning. And, those stress advisors will agree, sleep is much more important than exercise.
There is not a reason to pull out the tiniest violin, I am quite happy being a mom and keeping up on my kids. Sure my son has a rough time staying out of the principal's office, and he's just four years old, but he's a good kid, and he is getting better at it. He just finds potty words and his saliva exhilarating.
The thought of becoming pregnant, compounding my responsibilities, has made me consider celibacy the safest route.
My ambitions are facing an uphill trek, and I am not ready to put down my hiking ski poles, and take off my itchy wool socks. When I wake up in the morning and look at the floor for what could be thirty seconds or fifteen minutes, I wax on my current position, and deliberate, is this really where I'm supposed to be? I see myself living abroad, with my kids, or moving to the East Coast, and it's as if Sac Town is where Im settling. Is it settling, or is it just the middle (possibly the beginning or, dare I hope, nearing the end) of a temporary state?

This week we are being confronted by women saying #metoo, and I think all women should congratulate themselves for sharing their stories and feelings, and you can congratulate yourself if you decided it's too personal to share, but reflected on the time from a more knowing state. Sadly, no woman or girl escapes it. When I read Farrow's article in The New Yorker on Weinstein, I was unfortunately comforted by how common it was for a lot of women to not understand how to categorize or label what happened to them. It was confusion, and their lack of resistance in order to just get the ball moving on the dominance, because when I look back on my own me-too has tags I often wonder, and like to think, I could have done something. After I heard about the boy from high school who ended up in prison, and how one night next to him, I should have probably poked his eye out, I considered it a bit of retribution, but I also felt a tinge sorry for him, undoubtedly sodomized by the even more contempt.
At the time too, I didn't even consider it as terrible as it seems in retrospect. Thats a tricky part about the abuse of power and the dominated, it's hard to comprehend the extent of the actions until the mind catches up to understanding. A different #metoo moment happened when I was attending preschool, and if you had asked me at six years old what the greatest offense that happened to me was, I probably would have described the excruciating event when my mother made me wear a turtleneck, convinced I would be strangled from the stretchy cotton neck brace.

My developed mind, also grew to love turtlenecks. Turtlenecks are like wearing a hug, which I guess is a nice comfort in a world where women have to compartmentalize being dominated as a way to progress in life. It's hard for most women to even acknowledge marriage is a form of indentured labor.

October is the month of the rosary and my brother let me know he's dedicating the month to me, and it sounds nice, and I appreciate the gesture, but it's actually quite horrifying. He is doing so because divorce is a mortal sin, and he doesn't see my soul as entering the pearly gates, but rather burning in hell.

When I woke up Sunday morning, I felt a void that needed to be filled by a delicious meatball sub and watching Magnolia. I got my sub, and made it twenty minutes into the film before I realized, I needed to tackle higher priority items on my to do list, but it was a nice mini vacation. There are tiny ways to get back to simpler times, like picturing a folding chair next to a lake or eating curly fries.

This weekend is not stamped with an Alicia on the Google Calendar, and I am actually able to do a lot of activities that will slightly unclench my chest, like run and yoga. I also signed up for an all-day writing class on Sunday in San Fran, this is the equivalent of the day-spa for me. It will be nice to be in the city, be around people who love to write and talk about shit other than the weather. There could be some collaboration... I'm thinking of those flamingos!! Even if not, theres always the prospect of a meatball sub and Magnolia, a consistent comfort.