Silence...and a bunch of loud noisy birds

You hear a lot when you don’t have music playing in your ears. If I’m out like a grocery store or even these past 8 days at the lake, I’m usually rocking my Bluetooth headphones. If I’m writing, sometimes I absolutely can’t have music in my ears, especially music I know the lyrics to, because it’ll totally distract me. But sometimes I most definitely have to have music blasting in my ears, like at the grocery store. In no way shape or form do I want to hear a screaming toddler who you’ve taken out to the store during their nap time, you cruel cruel parent. But I do love the sound of silence sometimes. Walking today on a sunny 62 degree day, is about as perfect as it can be. It's Day 9 on my trek around the lake and I'm walking music-less today. All I hear are the sounds of feet pounding the pavement, bicycle tires spinning by me, ducks quacking and the line or two of someone’s conversation. Those sounds aren’t too bad, I have to say. I could’ve done without the couples hand in hand and the occasional one making out on a bench like this is your private backyard, but whatever. I feel like this one lady said to her man on purpose right in front of me- “I think it’s gonna be a good year.” Yeah probably for you. You have someone right next to you holding your hand. I literally can’t remember the last time someone held my hand, like I can’t at all, I’m not even joking. I can’t remember what a kiss feels like either, or what it feels like to be held by another human being, but let’s not delve into that right now...

On my walk I came across this statue. From afar it looked like a man, shirtless, but holding his shirt for some reason, and walking with a cane. On closer inspection, he is holding a shovel and underneath it, it says that it's a memorial to those men who helped to build around this great White Rock Lake. They "moved earth planted trees, crafted stone and built structures that remain a lasting legacy of service to their community and nation." I think "nation" is a stretch. And I wonder if there were any women that helped? Oh I'm sure some asked, but the men were like, "no, stay in the kitchen where you belong." I kid I kid... sort of. It was the 1930s...but nonetheless, thanks men for the wonderful lake. It really is pretty amazing. I've loved investigating all sides these past 9 days. Right next to this statue is where all the geese, goose, ducks and pelican hang out. It's like one big party. One loud party.

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The white pelican apparently flocks here for the winter from as far North as Canada…according to some lady who wished me a “Happy New Year” and who I got into a 15 second conversation with. I confirmed it on Google. Yes indeed they do. They are gorgeous and HUGE! Here’s a picture, but it doesn’t do their size justice. She said they come to this exact spot every winter, but they don’t know why. It’s this little area between the shore and some tall grass, like a little enclave. They were meticulously cleaning themselves when I got here. They’re just so large it’s insane they can fly all that way! I would just think it would get kind of tiring with a heavier body than say a regular bird. They are very loud right now, squawking away. And then the ducks and the geese join in as well, begging for bread on the shore, and it’s now one noisy bird choir. Throw in the pigeons flying in in unison, it’s like a damn Broadway performance. I think it’s the gooses or geese, that are being the loudest. Honking away. I’m sure they get fed so very well. Little kids chase them as they spread out their wings as wide as they can, I guess trying to make themselves bigger, and waddle away. It seems the geese get louder and louder once they realize no one has any bread for them. They are pissed . They aren't afraid to walk across the street though. Bikers and cars stop for them, but I stood there with my hands out because it didn't really seem like they were going to stop for them. Stupid people in cars. It was fun to watch them, though. They're so loud and demanding. I can't imagine being like a goose. They aren't afraid to let you know when they are mad or that they want something or want to let another goose know they want their attention. Good for them. I'm more like the solo duck that's out in the water all by itself, not really giving a fuck .  remember him?? (side note, am I not allowed to type the word fuck? because it will autocorrect it to duck or puck about 15 times before it lets me say fuck. Well puck you...I'm tired of retyping it)

Tomorrow's my last day... on Earth. Kidding. It's my last day on my 10 day journey around the lake and around myself... or something less cheesy than that. We'll see what the lake has in store for me tomorrow. Until then, good night and good luck.

Happy Ne-...eh I can't even finish that sentence.

And yet again Texas has flip flopped around. Yesterday was cold and overcast and windy and today it's a perfect 71. The waters are still. I'm considering more and more investing in a kayak, but I did look into it years ago and they are very pricey and I could just rent one here for $15. However they are not open in the "winter months" which isn't today and isn't  Texas for the most part anyway. But I'd have to wait until Spring. And since Spring is Summer and Summer is Hell...I don't know how much actual kayaking I'd get in.

I walked a ways before I spotted a bench. Someone was already sitting on it. I was already making plans in my head to hover near them, much like my approach to any social situation, but I didn't have to, they got up before I got there. I took off my shoes and socks, rolled up my pants. The sun was warm, but at least there was a nice gentle cool breeze. It helped tremendously. I think I've made my way around the whole lake this past week. Stopping in so many places along the way on this now 8 day outing. I looked around and spotted one part of one side I wasn't completely sure I'd been to. Tomorrow I will explore to be sure. 

I don't really have anything to say. I almost forgot it was New Years Eve. I don't like to be reminded yet another year has gone by and I'm still alone. I like to pretend that these big holidays- Christmas, NYE, Valentine's day, just don't exist at all. They are for people with loved ones and I don't feel that I have that. I haven't gone out in I want to say about 4 years. Yep, 4. I remembered Facebook has their lovely "on this day" section, where you can see what you posted on the exact same day in the past however many years you've been on Facebook. I can't believe I actually wrote this 4 years ago tonight- "2013 is gonna be my year!! I can just feel it!! Big excited things are gonna happen. And I am ready and have an open mind and open heart. I am confident and I know who I am and I am so confident and happy with myself. Watch out world, Christie is here!" Yeah fat lot of good that did me! But I remember that time. I was coming off the high of finally realizing who I am, and dealing with my sexuality and coming to terms with it all and what I wanted. It was a great feeling. I went to Sue Ellen's, Dallas' only lesbian bar that night, with a girl I used to work with who is also a lesbian. I don't remember expecting anything at all from anyone, but you can work this thing both ways, now can't you? You can say "oh I'm not expecting anything to happen but I'm going to stay positive" (and then nothing happens). Or you can go in there expecting to meet someone, and saying "I am going to do this" (and then again nothing happens). I've played both sides, I've played all sides. I've done it all, trust me. Positive, negative, not looking, looking, just doing me... yeah it's fucking all bullshit, whatever. I expect nothing to ever happen ever again. I mean I can't win any way. Even playing that side means that I am "hoping" someone will come along but I'm not expecting it and I'm not looking. There's no right way. You can't win. Those who have someone will say "oh it was the right time," or "I stopped looking and he came along."Bull-shit. You're just saying that because it worked out for you. If it didn't, you wouldn't be saying that. It's all so fucking pointless. So happy fucking new year, or whatever. If you have someone in your life, well good for you. You didn't deserve it and you didn't do anything to get them, but there you go, you have 'em anyway. Enjoy. Have fun. Try not to rub it in everyone else's face. Much obliged.

I guess I did have something to say... but don't I always?!

cold day warm night

It's another cold day at the lake. It's not as windy but it's still bone chilling cold. It says 53 but feels colder, plus it's overcast, so no sun. I walked along the shore, I could hear the water lapping against the side. There's a surprising amount of tennis balls on the shore. Or not, seeing as I'm sure they were thrown for a dog who never brought it back. The mournful Hallelujah is playing in my ear, sung by various artists. It felt like a sad end to a depressing 2016. And I say this not just because of my year but because of America's year. In a few weeks, a bully will sit on the throne of the highest seat our country has to offer and that's incredibly depressing. It feels like Negan has won. (The walking dead fans will get that reference). 

I walked the shore, backpack on my back, hoodie over my head until the wind picked up and my sniffing from an earlier allergy attack was getting to be too much for me. My fingers were starting to feel the cold and I was starting to question this alleged 53. It felt more like the 30s to me but what do I know? I'm not a weather man or a weather app 

As the wind got even stronger and it had become clear that the allergy medicine I had took was a placebo, I spotted my car and ran for it against the wind. Leaning my seat back in my car has made me more sure than ever that my next car must have a sun roof. No exceptions. I could see this tree out my back drivers seat window, so I took a sideways picture of it. I sat and read one of my old stories I wrote, until the sun that never appeared, was officially set, and the evening was already in full swing.

 

Late that evening under a heating blanket and a warm cat asleep across my chest, I re-watched the movie "the end of the tour."  I remember vividly how much this movie grabbed me and affected me, when I saw it in the theaters last year. I remember sitting in my seat, actively engaged in the dialogue. As if I was the one having a conversation with David foster Wallace, and not the far less appealing interviewer, by the same first name. I am by no means as profound or intelligent as David foster Wallace was. I will never write a book in which people compare me to the likes of Ernest Hemingway. And honestly I haven't even read his book- Infinite Jest, mostly because it's a thousand pages and I'm afraid I'd never finish it... or understand it, not that I'm not ruling it out completely. But I feel this connection and this understanding, to how he feels, or felt. He took his own life 12 years after this interview. It's 1996 and even back then, he was already predicting where the world was headed, from a technology perspective. He talks about how with the way technology is going, it will become easier and easier to disconnect and sit alone in a room and stare at a screen and get all your pleasure from that. And how, like candy, it's ok in small doses but if it's your main staple in your diet, then you will die. And he was right. His direct comparison was to porn, but this could be applied to other things...TV, Facebook, Twitter ect.

When I first saw this movie in the theater, I was the same age as the David foster Wallace that Jason Segel so perfectly portrayed- 34. He talked of being lonely and how it "would be nice to have somebody that you shared a life with and allowed yourself to be happy and confused with." He goes into more on the life of a writer, or his life... and kinda mine, even though I'm not a published writer. I never used to call myself a writer. My friend Amy called me that, about 5 years ago and I was blown away that she'd call me that, but when I thought about it I was like, "yeah, you're right, I am a writer." I don't need to wear it like a badge of honor, but maybe I do sometimes. When he talked about using his newfound fame to meet the singer Alanis Morrisette, it made me laugh because the way he feels about Alanis Morrisette is how I feel about Kate McKinnon. And if I were a famous writer, you better believe I'd use that to get a cup of coffee with her. You're damn right I would!

 

"I don't think writers are smarter than other people. I think they may be more compelling in their stupidity, or in their confusion. But I think one of the real ways I have gotten smarter is, I don't think I'm that much smarter than other people...I just think that to look across the room and to automatically assume that somebody is less aware or that their interior life is somehow less rich and complicated and acutely perceived as mine, makes me not as good a writer." David Foster Wallace. 

So that was my day. I couldn't tell you what else I did. It seems like when you're off this many days in a row, without any places to be, the days all seem to run together. The hours go by fast. You can sit and stare at nothing and 2 hours have passed. It's a very interesting thing. I can't say that I hate it, to be honest. I know I'd get more writing done and maybe I would get closer, quicker, to turning one story in particular into an actual published book, if I could spend all my days like this. I'd like to think so. It doesn't "make" things happen, but time and no job certainly gives you a leg up on that front. It's certainly not the fame I would want, from writing a successful book. Not with the way the internet is nowadays. I'd have to actually cancel my subscription to the internet. And doing readings and signings at bookstores, freaks me out to no end, even if the people there most likely would be ones that loved your book. What I would want is just the luxury of being able to write more books, screenplays maybe. Maybe get my book turned into a movie. If I didn't have to work at my current job, then I could dedicate those "work day hours" to writing and continue on and hopefully improve and get better and better; just because of the fact that I would have the time to do so. I would love that. Sorry babies, I love helping you learn to walk and talk, but the stress of the paperwork and the expectations of the higher ups, is just too much for me sometimes. I'd probably also have stress to "write another amazing book," but at least I could say well... at least now I have met Kate McKinnon.

crashing waves...and pictures

 

What a day a difference can make...or something along those lines. Yesterday the waters were still. It was 80 degrees and I was in shorts. Today it's windy and cold. I'm in sweats and it's 56. The waters are choppy, while yesterday they were still as can be. There's an actual wave crashing to the shore in this picture. And there were no boats out, making waves. It's just that windy. It is now 1pm and I'm finally eating for the first time today. I tried to sit out on the bench for a picnic by the lake but the wind was too strong and cold, so I'm in my car today. But I can still see the lake. It's right there in front of me. I was up till 145am last night, or technically this morning. I can't remember the last time I was up that late. Like it's been a million years at least. I was working on this letter and I couldn't get it to print. Apparently my printer isn't an "Airprinter." It can print my pictures from my phone through air/ Wi-Fi, but in no way shape or form any documents from Word, apparently, even though it was right there in the app for my Canon printer. I could see the document right there. It pissed me off to no end. But I knew it wasn't really about it not printing. It was about the letter itself. Cuz I'm a loser for writing it and I knew it. I ended up smashing this picture out of frustration, that was in the wrong place at the wrong time. I didn't think it would shatter into a million pieces. I wasn't aware in the moment it was made of glass. But it was and it did. Ironically it said "this is my happy place." Yeah I'm not sure I have such a thing. I don't think I know what that even means. "Happy." Happy is just a feeling in a moment. Like when friends jump out and say "surprise!" as they have thrown you a surprise birthday party. Or when you're spending quality one on one time with a close friend or someone you're really into and it's going really really well. But happiness is always conditional and it's always mixed up with other feelings as well. It's a simple word a simple feeling. You also really feel blessed and loved, when you're happy. Happy is an uncomplicated word that 3 year olds use, because they don't know a bigger word than the word "happy." 

 

I cut my finger on the glass as I picked it up awhile later, when I had finally given up. I didn't even realize it. I picked up my phone and saw red on the screen and realized my thumb was bleeding. I didn't do anything to stop it. It didn't hurt and I didn't care. The same thing happened later in the shower when I was shaving my legs. I cut myself again and didn't care. It didn't hurt and usually when I cut myself, be it shaving or my finger, it hurts. Or at least stings a bit. But I felt nothing. I guess I was hurting too much inside for a little cut to cause any pain or do any real damage.

Well I did find a place near my house to print the letter, and so I did. On the way home from the lake, one of my favorite songs came on the radio. Simon and Garfunkel's I am a rock. I've always related to that song...maybe a little too much. Maybe I too am a rock. Because a rock feels no pain...

 

 

 

 

another lake day

Found another awesome new spot today. Man, this going to the lake thing every day on my break is really paying off. It’s something I have to look forward to every day and it’s been good weather and just all around good for me. Plus I’m discovering all these parts of the lake I’ve never been to before. Went down the farthest side of the lake from me, where the spillway is. When it has rained a lot, there can be rushing waters there like the roaring rapids. I saw it on the news once when they did a story about it. It was after it had rained like 10 days straight or something. Today there’s nothing but the little bit of water that shoots out of the pipes that are built into the wall. Today there’s a whole family reunion of seagulls chilling out on the spillway, sitting around on dry ground. I found this little nook. It’s got a back for me to lean on, the Dallas Waterworks building. And it’s the end of the wall that overlooks the lake and ends at the spillway. It’s a pretty sweet spot, if I do say so myself. I still have a great view of the lake without the fear of falling off a wall to my death…or more likely just some busted bones, depending on how I fell. I’m thinking of climbing down and seeing what’s on the other side of this building, because to my left is this grassy knoll area with rocks in front and tall grasses in front of that, which ends at the water. There’s even a log that I’m sure kids propped up on the side so that they could climb down and walk on the other side of the wall, since there’s a wide slanted place to walk before you would even hit water. I’m sure it’s not designed for walking, but teens don’t listen. The only reason I don’t do it now is because I’m not a teen…plus I’m not 100 percent sure I could climb back up…even with the propped log. I’m not as young and agile as I used to be. There’s woods behind me though, and I’d really like to go explore those if I could. Maybe tomorrow.

 

I walked a long way today. Gotta walk all the way back to my car. But it was worth it. I got this awesome picture- it’s like Christmas at the lake. Red berries on a tree, with the water in the background. There are people everywhere being their own professional photographer. 2 girls that are dressed like they are in the 90s but clearly born after 2000. A family taking pictures of their children. 1 girl taking pictures of her friend holding a bouquet of flowers up near her face…which looks oh so natural. I love people watching. Always have. But I definitely love looking at nature more. And there’s a lot of that to look at out here.

So I put this book on my Amazon wishlist and got it for Christmas. Just thought it sounded cool, and I was right. It’s a journal of self-exploration and if I know how to do one thing really well- it’s journal and self-explore. Guess that’s two things I do really well. It’s called “Start where you are.” And in it every page has an idea of what to write or draw. It asks you to look into yourself and document what you’ve experienced or write down the first thing that pops into your head. Naturally I started with the last page of the book…because I like to do things out of order and I don’t like to be told where to start or what to do, for that matter. “Close your eyes and think about what makes you feel most alive.” Well, I’m not going to tell YOU what that is, because this is a journal of SELF exploration, not shared exploration, but it was fun, let me tell you. I did a couple more pages, each time not thinking about what I’m going to write, just writing down the first thing that came into my mind. I had a lot of fun with the page about a “major transformation you’ve been through.” Oh I’ve definitely been through that. I can’t wait to do more. I love myself, I do. I love to take care of myself be it massages or alone time to refocus my mind. I’m going to love documenting the exploration of Me. And I’m sure I’ll learn even more about myself from it. You never stop learning about yourself. If you’re healthy human being, you should change, grow and discover things about yourself all the time, especially when you experience something new and for the first time. I’m a terrible artist, just the worst. So those pages where they ask me to draw, are not going to be pretty, but thankfully there’s no one judging my work, because this is just for me, not for anybody else. So the pictures of the people who have most affected my life- both good and bad, look like a 3^rd grader drew them, but that’s pretty much when my artist abilities stopped. I once wrote a story based on one line- “In an alternate universe I could draw really well. Freehand. Draw people, animals, even landscapes…” From there it delved into mostly a relationship I wanted more than anything at the time, but that’s how I started it. I wish I could draw, I do. But I wasn’t given that ability. I was given the ability to put into words what the world looks like to me, how it’s affected me and how I feel about it. I can’t draw it, but I can write it. And that’s a pretty good gig, if I do say so myself. Plus I can always take pictures with my camera…so I really never have to draw them.

 

a duck doesn't give a fuck. And I respect that.

I spotted this little cozy little cove driving down the road on the other side of the lake, the side I hadn’t been on before. When you live close to one side, you tend to just go to the same place every time. I have walked quite a bit down its makeshift shore before, but never as far as the entire lake. It’s something like 9.3 miles. At least that's what I found on my casual glance on Google. I love little places I can hide away, so I love that this bench is blocked by a large bush-like thing that smells like a Christmas tree, on one side. It’s off the road, with a little wetland area in front of me and a bridge in front of that and the lake in front of it. So basically a lot of distance between me and people walking the trail. Just the way I like it. The Strumbellas play in my ears and my thoughts are still on a beautiful Canadian actress I watched in a show earlier, who I wrote a letter to once…just for the hell of it. Just because; what’s life without a little impossibility and craziness? I was going to write about this single white tree across the lake, full of blackbirds. But I’m not up for comparing it to how old and gray and dying I feel…so I’m not going to write about that today. I keep thinking about my zombie apocalypse story and how this very lake was the opening setting of my story. It’s where I sought refuge- in a boat in the middle of the lake. As long as the government doesn’t bomb over here, I think it would be a pretty good idea. As long as you had enough water and food…and bullets, just in case the floating bodies started to pile up too much, so much so that they could possibly overtake your boat. Let’s just hope it doesn’t come to that. This overgrown bush next to me though, could be a little hiding place, for awhile…just saying.

Not a whole lot to say today…the lake is quite peaceful to look at and it’s lulling me, and since the sun has gone down behind me, it feels much better, because I wore a sweatshirt thinking it was cold outside, but it wasn’t. There’s a hell of a lot of birds and ducks out in the trees and water to my left. Like so much so that it’s a bit creepy. They are all dark and they look scary and ominous in large, dead, white trees. Like they are plotting something. Maybe they are congregating to plan our takeover. I think a bunch might be ducks. I don’t know. Can ducks make it to a tree? I think they can actually fly pretty high, but I don’t think they sit in trees. I love it when they fly just over the water really fast. They are so close but don’t touch it. Maybe they are looking for bugs or tiny fish on the surface, or maybe they want to be close to the water so that they can make an emergency water landing, if they get too tired flapping those wings. I respect the duck. I like how they don’t give a shit if they’re popular or not. Sometimes they are out in groups, but more often than not I always see one off by itself. Sometimes they are close to a group, just on the outside and sometimes they are far off on their own. They don’t seem to care either way. They’ll even be side by side and then one will be like “peace out I’m going this way, don’t follow me Carl.” And off he goes. And Carl’s like “huh? What ya say?” as he continues on his merry little way. A duck likes its “me time.” Much like I do. If realistic human robots existed, I would so get one for the company and be like ok I’m done, off you go and power them down. Ha ha. I’m kidding…kind of. As much as I would like a partner in life and love, I’ve been alone for so so long. Like over 10 years, so I would most definitely have a hard time adjusting to having someone around all the time. I’m sure I’d run off to this very lake as much as I could. I mean I still want someone to hold me and kiss me and to talk to, but it’s a matter of what I’m used to. 10 years is a long time. A really long time. That’s why I fucking love the duck. Right now looking out at them, almost all of them are off on their own. When they feel like congregating together, they do, but if one goes off on its own, they don’t follow it, they don’t chase it down and say “please don’t go! Pay attention to me!” They give it its personal space and let it be. I don’t think they’re lonely. I don’t really think I’m lonely. I want the physical intimacy that I’ve been without for 10 years. I want that. But like the duck, I like to be on my own most of the time. It’s fine by me. It gives me writing time. It allows me to be in these worlds I’ve created with my words and I love that. The duck can be near a group when she wants and off by herself when she wants to, or side by side by another duck friend, whenever she wants that too. There’s so much space in a lake, I don’t think they feel trapped. And they also have the ability to fly away, which can be a quick getaway when need be, I’m sure. So you do you, duck. You go girl. You do with your life what you want…well, you have your nature to attend to as well, but let’s forget that part for a sec. You glide peacefully along the water at the slowest pace ever, for as long as you want, all by yourself. You do that. You get to. Because you’re in control of you. And when you want to go join the others, you do that. But never stop being who you are…a duck. Because you have to. You were made a duck. And ducks don't give a fuck.

 

 

light and dark

Third day in a row I’ve gone to the lake by my house to write. Christmas eve, Christmas day and now again today. I’m off from work for 10 days straight and I decided today that I’m going to continue to go to the lake every single one of those days and write. The first day I was inspired by the fog over the lake. I couldn’t see to the other side and when I looked at the picture I took, I noticed that there were rays of sun streaming through the clouds. It spurred a story of a celestial being coming down through those rays, who turned out to be my soulmate. Then yesterday in all my anger, I came to the lake and found a wind that was extremely strong, and a whale in the clouds with the sun as its eye. That wind pushed out my anger and that whale ate it. Well, today is calm. Today I found a dock. It started out on one path and broke into 2. I walked those 2 paths. They felt the same, but they were different. They looked different. A light and a dark side. From the start I could see that one side was darker than the other. There were dark clouds hovering and unfortunately the darkness was starting to spread to the light side. These 2 sides feel like the 2 sides of me. On the light side, there is, well…light. There are less clouds too. Less stuff in the way. When I walked down the light side there were boats. Tons of boats docked off on the light side. On my light side there are people. People who I either try to keep in my life or who are forced into my life or people I want to be in my life, but who aren’t. Lots and lots of people. On the right side, the dark side, there is nothing but water. Lots and lots of water. It’s empty, but it’s beautiful. To me it’s much much more beautiful than the side with all the boats shoved together. All falling all over each other, jam packed in there. The dark side has freedom. It has endless possibilities. A lone little duck swam bye…a lone kayaker paddled by. To me that’s enough. One special person to spend my life with. One little child to raise and love. That’s all I would need. One thing both sides had in common were, the docks were covered in bird  poop. Like absolutely covered. Both sides, all up and down the dock. It didn’t matter that it was the light side or the dark side. The bird poop didn’t care. The seagulls didn’t choose a side. Crap is everywhere, on either side. My dark side is where I like to be. It’s where my creativeness comes out the most.  But like it does to the dock and the clouds, a little light manages to cross over to the dark side. It infects both sides, just as the dark intrudes on the light. The social side. The side that says you’ll be happy and light with people surrounding you. But I choose to live on the dark side. The side with open waters and endless possibilities. The side that has the occasional kayaker or duck swim by. The beautiful side. The peaceful side.

The sun made an appearance. It broke through the clouds and pushed its way thru. It shone down on the middle of the lake. It cut through the middle of the 2 sides and like the duck in the 2^nd picture, I stood in the middle of the dock. I didn’t look to the left or the right anymore. I just looked out. Looked out at the water and the rays of sun that shone down through those clouds. Neither side was good or bad. They just…were. To each their own…