lawnrrd: (kitty)

Last night I went to see Bryan Ferry. I’ve been a fan of Roxy Music and Bryan Ferry since my teens, and I’d seen him live a couple of times before. So I was excited when tickets went on sale.

Still, I paused before buying the tickets, because I wasn’t sure who I’d go with. K wasn’t interested, observing that Ferry has never written for Broadway. But VV, a friend, tweeted that she really wanted to go, so I made it happen.

I like to think I would have bought the tickets anyway and worried later about finding someone to go with.

As much as I’d been looking forward to the show, when the date came, I was a little ambivalent. It’s been a busy week, and I’m fighting off a cold, so I was tired and uncomfortable. If I hadn’t made plans with my friend, there’s a non-zero chance I would have talked myself out of going.

I’m really glad I went. They started with an old-time Roxy Music song (“Re-make/Re-model”), which got me in the mood. And the next one (“Kiss and Tell”), from a mid-80s solo album, really energized me.

The performance itself was really good. Ferry can still sing, and his backup musicians managed to be faithful to Ferry’s sound while still putting themselves into the music.

I can’t say that it was objectively the best performance I’d ever attended, but I have never enjoyed a concert as much as I enjoyed that one.1 Part of it was that it was an excellent show. But mostly, I think I was just ready to enjoy something, more ready than I’d been in years. I was finally in the right place, living the right life, listening to music that I’d loved for nearly thirty years.

For all of my ongoing issues and anxiety, I’m finally whole, and it’s wonderful.


1A very slight disappointment was the lack of showgirls. Previously when I’d seen Roxy Music or Bryan Ferry live, there had been a point in the show when two women in showgirl costumes—spangles, giant feathers, and all—came out and flanked the stage. I had been looking forward to seeing something along those lines at this concert because showgirls.

lawnrrd: (kitty)
Last weekend’s theme was frustration.

As planned, I got up early Saturday to drive to the Gunks to climb. I hadn’t felt like going when I signed up, and I didn’t feel like going when I got up, but I went anyway. I do really enjoy climbing, I knew that if I didn’t go, I’d get annoyed with myself for pissing the day away, and I figured that I’d get in the mood once I got out there. I figured wrong.

Saturday the lawnrrd got wet )

On the frustration meter, though, Saturday was a minor blip compared to Sunday.

Sunday the lawnrrd got cryptic )

It’s been two days, and I still start to shake when I think about it.
lawnrrd: (kitty)
I have been fighting inertia for most of the summer, if not longer. I wish I could say that I've been winning. I’m sure that there was a reason for the initial slowdown, but I have no idea now what it was, and now it’s just feeding on itself: inertia leads to anxiety, which leads to avoidance, which leads to inertia. Lather, rinse, repeat.

For all that, I’m also happier than I’ve been in decades. I don’t know whether I can describe what K means to me in any kind of way that makes sense. It feels as though I’ve spent my whole life to this point trying to find a part of the world that feels as though I belong there, and now I have: it’s a bubble that has K at the center.

K and I were married in March, and she’s been pregnant for most of the time since then. The baby is due on New Year’s Day, but we both think she’ll deliver before then.

K has stepped up her efforts to break me out of my do-nothingism. At her urging, I’m getting up early tomorrow to go rock climbing—one of the few times I will have done it without her. At this moment, I think I’d rather sleep in and piss the day away playing computer games. But I know that if I do that, then I’ll be annoyed with myself tomorrow night for having pissed away the day with computer games.
lawnrrd: (Default)
I've been in a long stretch in which I haven't posted much. The usual suspects bear most of the blame: I lack privacy to organize my thoughts; I lack time to write; and I still don't feel comfortable talking publicly about the things that occupy most of my attention these days. It's hard to motivate myself to express anything when I won't let myself express what feels most important.

There is a good deal of stress, but I'm also feeling generally hopeful. The details will come in time.

Things are going well at work. The clients like the work I'm doing, the firm likes the work I'm doing, and for once they're happy will my billable hours. I'm told that I'm being looked at for partnership this spring, but that many of the more influential partners still don't feel as though they know me. Resolving that has been an ongoing puzzle, and, though I have some ideas, I really don't know what I ought to do.

I'm getting back into some kind of shape, after having to lay off for various reasons in the fall. I've taken up climbing and often go to local climbing gyms with other LJ folks.

The boy is doing well, in school and otherwise. He's smart, funny, and charming, and everyone loves him. He just passed yet another test in his tae kwon do class and is now almost a yellow belt. He's getting more independent, which means he's asserting his own will against us more often, and that's at one time both gratifying and exasperating. Sometimes I look into his face and wonder who this big kid staring back at me is.

The wife is swamped at work. As I may or may not have mentioned, she's essentially creating a new division at her employer. She's hiring and managing people and fighting for and getting resources for the new project. Her end-of-year evaluation was so good that it scared her, in that she now has set high expectations that she has to continue to live up to.

We're planning a vacation in Florida for a week in February. That will include a few days with her parents near West Palm Beach and a few days involving Disney somehow.

That's most of the small stuff. The bigger stuff will come in time.
lawnrrd: (Default)
For the first time in a while, since having finished my project, I have nothing to read. I mean, I have a huge to-read queue heap random pile, but I just don't feel like approaching it. It shouldn't bug me, but it does: I feel, however unreasonably, as though I'm wasting time.
lawnrrd: (Default)
I seem to be coming down with a cold. As usual, I am unduly grumpy about it, but it reassures me, somehow, that I am less unduly grumpy about it than usual.

For example, I have been trying to cheer myself up by reminding myself that I went all winter without getting sick at all, and that bullshit is actually working this time.

Similarly, I started grousing about the timing, about getting sick just as I've suddenly got more work—all of it with tight deadlines—than I have had in months. And then I reminded myself that at least I didn't get sick when I had to travel, and I have plenty of time to get over this before my next trip. That cheered me up too.

What's happening to me? Have I become a pod person or something?
lawnrrd: (Default)
I am painfully hungry.

I could also use a drink.

Given a reasonable nap, I could probably be pretty horny, too.

[Poll #914675]
lawnrrd: (Default)
Brick wall! Apply directly to the forehead!
Brick wall! Apply directly to the forehead!

Digested

May. 25th, 2006 01:08 pm
lawnrrd: (Default)
I am working much too much and sleeping much too little. Don't even get me started on fucking and working out.

I really, really like what I do. I know how unusual that is, and how even more unusual it is for lawyers, and how even much more unusual it is for $BIGLAW lawyers. It is nonetheless true. But there are times when I wish I didn't have to do quite so much of it.

Progress continues to be made on the apartment. The new sofa was delivered yesterday, and we're trying to figure out whether we like it. Lauren and I agree that we don't like the stain that the brand-new sofa arrived with, but we're not sure what we're going to do about it. Lauren, Leo, and I did enjoy some quality time together this morning on the sofa, though.

Despite the progress on the apartment, the third bedroom is not yet an office. I continue to refer to it, alternately, as the "crapatorium" and the "crapateria." I just can't decide which I like better. An obstacle is that we don't have bookcases yet. Ikea has a set that we think we'd be happy with, but they want $150 to ship them, and none of the local stores has them in stock.

Tonight I have to get home relatively early to relieve the babysitter because Lauren has some event or other. I think that I will take the opportunity to put the air conditioners in the bedrooms. We still need a new unit for the living room and another for the crapatorium.

The other day, while walking to the bus stop, I noticed how beautiful the weather was, and I looked across the East River at lower Manhattan, and, for the first time in years and years, I was conscious that I was glad to be alive. I think that the Zoloft is working.
lawnrrd: (Default)
For about two months, I really haven't been keeping up on my LJ. I've noticed that I've been withdrawing into myself in other ways, too. I don't think that there's anything specific I'm withdrawing from, but I haven't felt motivated to fight it, either. I've felt a growing inner numbness, too.

My therapist says that this kind of feeling is often a prelude to some kind of attempt to regenerate, and that I should just skip ahead to that part. I told her that I didn't know what it was yet.

In any case, I am at least motivated to post to my LJ.
lawnrrd: (Default)
It takes about ten minutes to walk between my apartment and the subway. Walking home tonight, I was feeling generally pleased with what I got done today at work, and I had finally managed to stop beating myself up for everything in the whole fucking world. I almost never listen to my iPod during my commute, either, but tonight, I was listening to the soundtrack from A Charlie Brown Christmas on the train and during my walk home.

And I was about halfway home from the subway station when, just for a moment, I felt good.

I can't remember the last time I felt that, even for a moment. It's been months. Maybe more than a year.

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