bonjour, mes amis

It's me, after another month. I think I'm finding some sense of regularity here, at least. March came roaring in and has yet to ease up on me, and likely many of my counterparts.

Let's see...February wrapped up with a bang, I suppose. I spent most of my free time preparing myself physically, mentally, and with the necessary equipment for my first tae kwon do tournament, plus a belly dance performance on the SAME DAY. So with all my effort and high tension, I thought I had gotten myself ready, until the Friday before the competition. I dragged out to a goodbye dinner for a friend, and ended up joining other people who went to a hiphop club and ended up getting carried away with the good times, and drinking four STRONG drinks. Such a wise decision...

Saturday morning, having barely any sleep, waking still drunk and bordering the impending hangover, I dragged myself through getting ready and didn't get out of my house on time. This upset my whole team, though I didn't hear about it right away. I called my mom to wish her a happy birthday, took a small walk on the mountain behind my house, and tried to eat oatmeal...unsuccessfully. I was two hours behind the team, and I guess it didn't seem like such a big deal to me because I didn't actually consider myself on a "team," I'm usually a solo player and that's how I think of myself. I didn't realize I was distracting my "teammates" from preparing themselves for their own matches. I spent the next seven hours nursing a hangover, beating myself up for sabotaging myself before a match, for letting everybody down, and for being the Asshole of the Day, really. I had no place to complain about how shitty I felt, which was truly horrible, because I couldn't eat or drink anything without having to run to the restroom to violently throw it up, and I was dizzy and had a pounding headache.

I pushed myself, though, and I tried really hard to just pull myself together, stay with it, and be cool. Later, I was accused of not being "sorry enough," and drama ensued where they all conferred about my many failings (at the tournament and elsewhere) and wouldn't let it go without dropping it all on my head.

Lo and behold, I won my match. There was only one fight, and my competition was a young lady from Korea who didn't bother to warm up, practice, or stretch, but she sure watched me do all those things. My headache and nausea was worrying me; I was afraid my setbacks would sacrifice my timing and strategy. My coach was good to me, most notably for not benching me outright, and gave me really great instruction during the match (which I took to heart and followed as closely as possible). Having only two players registered in the heavyweight adult females meant that either way I would have medaled, but as it were I'm pleased that I took home the gold despite the circumstances.

Afterward I went home, lay on my bed for 20 minutes, and then got up, showered, and did my hair and makeup, and finally ate a small amount of food. I took a train for an hour and made it to the venue where our dance troupe was performing in part of a big charity event. It was fun, and I enjoyed myself, and the girls were so enthusiastic and supportive of me for winning (sharply contrasting the disregard from my "teammates" at the tournament). I was too tired to really dance energetically and creatively, so when I had my solos I don't think I did anything profound or particularly inspiring, but I noted that I had no stage fright whatsoever. I suppose I was still in a victory glow. I got a ride part of the way home with two incredible people, and found myself really perked up by the time I got home.

I won't be drinking again any time soon, I think. It just feels like ugly memories and bad decisions and too many calories and day-after headaches.

And winter hasn't left yet. In fact, it snowed again on Monday night, which was both staggeringly beautiful and deeply disappointing. Earlier that day, I had just noticed that tiny yellow flower buds were forming on the tree branches near the front steps to my apartment building. The winter wonderland was just the opposite of what I wanted, no matter how magical it looked. Thankfully, it has melted almost entirely away and those little yellow buds are still on the tree branches. All we need now are some warmer temperatures and some leaves, and I think spring will feel a bit more welcome, and decide to finally stay.

Work is just hard. That's all. I want to be good at my job, but there are all kinds of unpleasant truths about the system and my superiors and even some of my coworkers that repel me and having new classes with new students is really hairy and unfulfilling.

I've felt really lousy, tense, and fatigued for two weeks. I went to the doctor on Monday after having a constant headache every day for six days, and he gave me about a hundred pills for five days, no names and no indications for any of them, just when to take them. The doctor visit and the medication only totalled to about 8 bucks, so I figure I'll honor the advice of the doctors and take the meds. I think they make me really drowsy and dehydrated.

Also, I've been really antisocial lately. It isn't deliberate, but spending time with my friends just doesn't seem appealing in the slightest. I'd rather save myself the trouble and go home and relax by myself. I've apparently missed loads of phone calls and texts, however, and every sensitive feeling my friends have has been hurt by my failure to cater to their little expectations. Maybe it is deliberate. I don't feel like being judged, especially by Katie, David and Dan. They seem to document every single mistake I make in their presence, to misinterpret and assume and critique, only to hold it against me forever. It's not encouraging. On the other hand, spending time with anyone else just feels like too much effort.

Nobody reaches out to me, so I can carry on my ideas that I'm flying solo, as usual. No one thinks about me or wants to do anything with me, which is FINE, because it's not a big deal and we all do what we want to. It's not personal, but to Katie it is. I'm tired of that mentality. Just let me do my own damn thing. I'm not on her case about staying in touch with me every day, and I don't watch her to screw up or get all worked out of shape when she trips some hypersensitive hair trigger boundaries. I just don't think of her like that. But, it's safe to say, I'm wounded, and I feel defensive and bitter and betrayed. I'd just rather be alone, thanks.

Then there's Toby. I love that man, but being 6000 miles way sucks. If I was any closer to him, would it be different than it was before? Probably not. Should I just move on and find someone who's better suited to me? Yeah, I should. Is it possible to do that? I'd like to say yes, but so far I just can't tear myself away.

I figure I'll just be my free-floating self for the rest of my days. We'll see if I can manage it.