2000-12-14 - 14:36:32
Shopping, surveying, and sinking ...

Well, I've been just a smidge busy over the last couple of days. Tuesday the office gals (the workstudy, the secretaries, and ... you guessed it ... me) all went to Sleighbells for lunch and shopping. I found some cute stockingstuffers for my parents, and a fine pair of sculpted pewter goblets that I *really* wanted to get, but turned out to be from West Germany ... $95/each. Ouch.

Yesterday my brother and I went apartment hunting in Tigard, and found a couple of really nice places. We didn't get to see the house with the 1,800 sq. ft.; the owner wasn't around, and we've been unable to get a hold of him. I am afraid that must be a misprint ... it's listed with 2 bedrooms, washer/dryer, fireplace, deck, etc., etc., for only $650/mo. We did see a nice 870 sq. ft. apartment just a couple of miles from 99W; it's got everything we're looking for, except that renters have to pay their own utilities. Ah, well. We'll go back on Sunday and make a decision.

I also gritted my teeth and replied to another angry message in my mailbox ... Good grief. I did NOT want to reaffirm anyone's negative ideas about women, but it appears I have. What would he have me do? I am only human. I care for him still, as a friend, but ...

And that's that.

I have learned (or reaffirmed) a few things about myself in this process. I know that I expect the early stages of romance to move smoothly; I need signals of happiness/joy/kindness/appreciation to reassure me and get me past the nervousness. Yes, even if there's history. Every new chance needs some positive bouyancy, else it will sink before very long.

I have also learned that I am alarmed by the "sensitive 90s man" role. I was burned badly in my second relationship by a man who would only say "Well, I'm sorry, but that's nothing, listen to MY troubles," and then expect me to get over my upset and let him cry on my shoulder and give him words of comfort. I know in my mind that it isn't always that way. But it alarms me, all the same. Once burned, twice shy, and all that.

I found a passage the other day that illustrates the reasons behind that alarm, in Mocksie's diary:

I said to him, on the verge of tears, "I'm weak".

And he said to me, "No, you're strong. You put up with so much shit. You are so strong."

That is *why* I am weak. Because I put up with so much shit. If I were strong, I wouldn't put up with anything. I'd stand up for myself, overcome my demons, past and present.

I wrote a poem about this my sophomore year. I can't find it right now, or I'd post it, but the sentiment still holds true for me. People may call me strong and expect me to be supportive, since I always have -- I may seem the veriest tower of support -- but this tower has very thin walls. One more bad storm, and it could all come clattering down on me. I am NOT that strong.