And Life Flows On With You and Without You

In the last few years I have accepted that I love to write and that I am a card-carrying-no apologies-introvert.  Then this week it really sunk in just how long this has been true, which is pretty much forever.  For awhile I thought perhaps it was a newfound condition that came about since I stopped drinking years ago.  However now I realize it was only masked then by sheer will and mismanagement of me by me.  No one likes a wallflower though and society does everything it can to pry you from your seat at the observation deck.  I wanted to please people though and it didn't seem possible using my god-given self.  So with a lot of liquid ambition and assorted pharmaceuticals I did enjoy getting attention and feeling very free. I know I was much more likable or at least I didn't care as much either way.  I loved the idea of sacking inhibitions and spent many years living on the other side of the looking glass.  But I always knew I was shooting my whole life's wad early on in doing so.  And it's not to say you can't be both.  But for me, the fun, outgoing gal only came out when I sprinkled, or poured more like it, lots of beer in her.  I leave the door open in case she comes back. Even I miss her sometimes.

But from very early on I studied people and was genuinely interested in why they were the way they were.  It wasn't so much about the compassion but more the understanding, the human science behind it.  I thought deeply about the people in my world and considered each finding a gem that helped build my collection. I think I came to know my sister so well because I focused so hard on all of her intricate mannerisms, tendencies and behaviors. I recall being so shocked to find her crying at the window one night, worried about my dad getting home safely from the bar.  Her heart must be so big I thought, as I folded this new information into my mental sweater pocket.  And how happy and almost giddy she would get around the little blonde neighbor girls.  I would get territorial and not want to share my sister but how could I be so selfish when she clearly enjoyed them so much. If not pondering my sibling, I was equally excited to spend time with me. I made whole itineraries and carried them out with delight.  Was there any better companion then yourself?  When I did venture out,  I sought out the underdogs, the weirdos in the neighborhood.  The old gay alcoholic with the Chihuahua, or the younger than me girl whose living conditions became my obsession. To sit in her room and just breathe in the loveless vibe in that house.  It wasn't so much her, but an example of how one's view can change perspective so drastically. That was fun for me to see. But I always needed an end in sight while socializing. I treasured my alone time so I could contemplate each new discovery.  You could often find me in the sun eating mulberries on the balcony of our house on Schele Avenue, just daydreaming for hours.  And now like the biggest vinyl nerd, I have a large collection of research, exceptions and case studies to draw upon. I recognize each day is another opportunity to gather more no matter from where. 

Some meals are even catered towards loner fare as they are personalized to my specific likes and memories.  Enchilada Chicken is using my moms sauce over baked thighs, with her cool, thin sliced iceberg lettuce, tomatoes and onions, cold cheddar cheese on top.  

I guess it's no accident but thank goodness I have this side of me since my husband spends the better part of everyday in his cave writing songs and has for years and years.  And years.