This is not a trip report

This isn’t a trip report. I told myself I wouldn’t do one until after my report cards are done on Friday.

Maybe I should do one sooner though. I can feel the high of being with friends who understand me slipping away. I’m happy. I’m smiling. I feel more myself than I have in years.


Today I found myself thinking, maybe too much, that if this life that I have doesn’t make me feel like myself, then what the hell am I doing living it? I know how it happened. Small daily compromises have been made, for comfort, for contentment. Trouble is, I have never much liked the words compromise or contentment; I always used to prefer the words joy and passion.

What to do, what to do. How to slow, stop and reverse this creep of dullification? I don’t think that’s a word, do you? You know what I mean though.

I already know that at least three of you are ready to comment that I am not dull, that I am pretty kick-ass. It’s all smoke and mirrors. And bullshit. I’m in a rut. I’m beginning to feel like the frumpy middle -aged teacher I look like. And that ain’t good.

The truth is, I’m going to bed at 9, 9:30 not because I like being well rested for work (which is good, don’t get me wrong), but because my dreams are better than my waking reality. I am so bored that I can’t even be bothered to masturbate. What’s the point? Lately it only serves to make me feel more sad and lonely than before. The gods must be greatly amused by this, that one who was so sexually active in her youth can now count the number of times she has actually had sex in the last five years on the fingers of one hand and still have fingers left over.

Bet you thought it was more. Well, it’s not. Let’s just say it has not been good for my self-esteem. Nor for any sort of mental calm – my thoughts have an unpleasant bittern edge that is starting to affect the way I interact with people. Truly, I didn’t realize it until yesterday when a student said she was happy that I had a good time where ever I’d gone, and that I’d found my smile there. So am I. Now what I’d like to know is, how the hell did my smile get all the way to Las Vegas without me? Although it was nice of it to wait for me to catch up to it. I had some excellent help finding it; my friends are wonderful to me in ways I don’t quite feel I deserve.

I talked to my brother, who said that it’s just my perception of reality, and that I need to change my perception. He’s getting all zen and reading Buddha’s teachings so he doesn’t lose his mind while his marriage is dissolving. Being zen is not a bad thing. Reading the Dalai Lama’s book, the Art of Happiness, worked once before. Meditating worked before. Exercise, learning new things, indulging in small pleasures, these all worked before. They centered me, helped me find balance.

But you know what? I don’t want to be calm and centered, or at least not all the time. I want to go out and dance until they turn the lights on and kick everyone out. I want to drink and act silly and flirt and maybe even kiss someone(s). I want to blend what I was with what I am.

Mid-life crisis? Maybe. Maybe just bored? Perhaps. Definitely very tired of saying I used to be fun, I used to be sexy, I used to be desired, I used to be active, I used to be fiercely passionate, I used to be somehow just more.

And this is where the commenters say, you dolt, you are sexy, you are fun, you are desired. What the fuck are you talking about?

So maybe my brother’s right. I just need a shift in my perception. Or a smack upside the head. Or a night out dancing until they turn on  the lights and kick everyone out.


And to think that all I meant to write is, I’m busy with report cards and will do a trip report when I’m done.

4 Replies to “This is not a trip report”

  1. Eh, just move to Vegas. I can’t possibly see anything going wrong with that plan.

    Or talk to a professional. Yah, yah, who the hell wants to do that? But you seemingly have 4 groups of people in your life right now – K, your co-workers, your students, and your friends. Your co-workers are pissing you off more often than not. Your students are your students and don’t count as any sort of peer group. Your friends are all super-supportive and think you’re awesome. K loves you but is about as opposite from neutral and removed from the situation as one can be. You need an unbiased ear and voice to help you sort out what’s your environment, and what’s you. Someone who can tell you to STFU and DO something about what you can do something about, and point out what’s beyond your control. You’ve gazed at your navel and stared down your reflection enough times that I doubt there are any deep-seeded issues you don’t know about, you just need someone to keep kicking your motivation into gear. Especially after a year where your summer was taken away by a bad step, literally.

    Finding your zen, meditation, bubbly baths and martinis are all distractions that don’t deal with the underlying problems, whatever they are. Deal with them. If nothing else, this past weekend is a wake-up call that the person you want is still there, just buried under a pile of bullshit that needs to be cleared off. It’s not that your smile was in Vegas. It’s that you left that pile behind in Toronto, and let the smile see some daylight. Don’t let the pile rebuild.

  2. Agree with Astin 100%. You will never go back to being who you were, but if who you are isn’t making you happy, then you have to find a way to be happy. It won’t be the same happy as 15 years ago, and it won’t be the same way – which is good, because who the hell wants to go backwards? You just need to find what turns your crank today.

    Astin’s right in the you already know what the issues are, you aren’t the same person you were and now you need to find the solutions that works for today. That might include some of those compromises as you’re no longer the type to throw the baby out with the bathwater. But if you decide those compromises are important, then you need to accept them.

    I think you do need to go talk to somebody utterly unbiased – who doesn’t already look at you through the lens of kick ass chick.

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