Welcome to the Perceived Passage of Time

 I admit that I've been a little MIA the past month. I swear I have a good reason, but since I don't have to share the details of my life online, I'm not going to explain myself.

Okay - maybe I'll explain myself a smidge. 

I lost track of time. So complain in my comments section.

As I've gotten older, I've realized how precious a resource time is. Much like the money I earn (and then spend), I have to budget my time. I may want to go to bed after midnight, but if I have an 8:00AM meeting, I'm going to be regretting that time I didn't spend sleeping.

Yesterday, I felt like I had all the time I needed this weekend to get everything I wanted to done. I took my time cleaning parts of my apartment and took a very long walk around the neighborhood. Today, as I write this blog post, I notice that I do not in fact have as much time as I wanted. I'm behind on the amount of cleaning and writing I'd hoped to do.

I still did a lot of stuff. My apartment is relatively clean, I was able to take some time to socialize, and I even managed a lovely 1-hour nap (nap time becomes cool again sometime in college - no lies). However, I didn't get all the chores I wanted to done and the only thing I've written is this blog post (which you are now reading).

Where did the time go? Why did it slip through my fingers like ocean waves?

Why is it that the moments I want to hold onto most, fly away the quickest?

I know there's a term for this phenomena, but I'm too lazy lacking the time to look it up. However, I've heard plenty of people complain about how quickly time flies. I've listened to people older (and occasionally wiser) than me inform me that time speeds up as you age.

But how? Physics has taught me that time is a fixed unit...unless relativity is involved. Did I gain so much mass that I'm able to perceive time differently from when I was a child. Or is this a psychological phenomenon connected to the Fibonacci sequence of age? When I'm two years old, half my live happened in one year. So I feel like a year is forever. As a six year old, a month seemed forever because one month was 1% of my life experience? Now a month is less than 0.3% of my life and seems to go by like a NASCAR loop.

I first began to note the passage of time, after my friend's 13th birthday party. I distinctly remember the party - only because I fell asleep first and was the first person to wake up in the morning (boy do I miss being able to do that - my college years really messed up my sleep schedule). I also distinctly remember thinking about the party a week later and wondering why it felt like time had passed so fast. 

Then another week passed...and another.

Suddenly, it was a whole month from my friend's birthday party and I felt like I was feeling time go by. It was a disorienting feeling - one I still get when I want to revisit a very specific memory (usually happy, usually very detailed). 

The best way I can describe the feeling of time passing is trying to stay very still while also being pulled by an invisible force hard enough that I can feel my body losing the battle to stay planted in one spot. The closest examples I could give are feeling a powerful tide going out to see or being on one of those UFO carnival rides - you feel the force moving you, but are stuck against the wall.

I don't know if anyone else has felt this. Most people I've spoken to talk about blinking and suddenly time has leapt forward - your little baby is a sassy preteen. I don't have kids. I blinked and went from living in Maryland to New Jersey. Another blink, and I'm back in my home state of Virginia. I'm curious where this next blink finds me, but I'm also weary. 

I don't want time to slip by too fast, yet it seems to be. In another ten years, a month will be roughly 0.2% of my lived life. More events will have happened, more milestones met. A lot can change in ten years, and just as much can stay the same. I rarely noticed my growth spurts as a little kid, but my relatives who rarely saw me certainly did. 

I've started having that realization too. The kids I babysat as a teen are graduating high-school and college. Some have even become parents themselves. My youngest first cousin is in university and my oldest second cousin once removed is in high-school (I missed out on his whole childhood). Places in my head exist as they did years ago, not as they do today because I haven't been there in so long. When I picture my grandparent's house, it's forever yellow, though the family that lives there now painted it brown.

Time is not a constant. Our perception of time changes with age. For some of us it's a blink. For others, it's a pull that we notice while trying to live in a moment - until that moment is a new one.

I am excited for the future. I enjoy reviewing the past, though I'm sad I can't return to those moments. I love being in the present, even if I sometimes start to mourn the moment because I know how quickly it's over.

Time is a currency. Time is a constant. Time changes with speed and mass. Humans can't control time anymore than we can control the weather.

If you enjoyed this post (or it really pissed you off) please like, share, and/or leave a comment. I love hearing from my readers and I hope y'all like hearing from me.

Until next week.

Welcome to Feeling like an Adult

 As we approach September, my anxiety is rising again. For the past few months, I’ve been a contractor. It’s a good position with awesome work. My contract ends the first week of November.

There is the possibility that the organization that I’ve been working for will make me a full time member of their staff, but nothing is guaranteed and after the past two years I’ve had regarding my employment status (or lack there of), I don’t want to get my hopes too high.

When I think back on my 20s, I realize what an ideal time it was in my life. I had stable employment, a great friend group, opportunity to travel and have fun, and a good support system. In my mind’s eye, the problems from my poor mental health are smoothed over in favor of memories of going to Broadway plays and trips to the farmers market. My homesickness replaced by laughter from my writer’s group and nights clubbing in Hoboken (as infrequent as they were).

I almost want to go back in time and give my younger self a pep talk. Enjoy this time, take a few more risks. I’d want that version of me to enjoy that life because COVID-19 is just around the corner - lurking like a vampire just beyond the streetlight’s rays - to upend everything.

Things haven’t all been bad, but I can tell how restless I am - how listless I’ve become. I’ve struggled to writer and create art. I’ve had to take on even more responsibilities (though I wouldn’t trade my grumpy fur baby for anything).

She’s sweet, but also has teeth!

For once in my life I actually feel like an adult, not an awkwardly old teenager pretending to be one.

Soon, this period of transition will end. And my mind will find something else to overthink. I’ve started looking at apartments in different areas and I want to cry over how expensive they all are. 

Sometimes I think life in general is just one long period of transition - though between what I haven’t a clue. It’s not life or death though. That answer doesn’t feel right.

Meditation and yoga can help me find some form of stillness that goes against the natural chaotic momentum that shapes our world. Time never stops moving forward, even when a clock does. The Earth will keep changing regardless of human activity. 

We live, we change, we go to the next life.

It makes for a great story though.

If you enjoyed this blog post (or it really pissed you off) please like, share, and/or leave a comment. I love hearing from my readers and I hope y’all like hearing from me.

Until next week*.

*next week is Labor Day, so maybe the week after that.

Welcome to About Three Decades

 I'm tired and don't have much to say tonight, but here are some thoughts as I process that I've lived on this Earth about three decades...

I love this photo I took in Iceland.

Nothing really changes, but nothing stays the same. I'm a 90s kid who remembers a time before the Internet, yet now I can't imagine a world without my smart phone. My first computer was a Windows 98, though I know I played games on an even older laptop - that first game had Mickey Mouse - in the apartment we lived in before the house.

All of my first cousins have graduated from high school. It seems like it was last summer I was babysitting them for 20 bucks an hour. That was over 5 years ago. I hope babysitters are getting paid better. 

My childhood didn't end in one traumatic or a summer in transition like in "Stand By Me" or "Now and Then". . It was a slow death spiral that started in April 1999. The final knell of the requiem bell was in December 2012, but by 2003 the pessimism had fully set in.

Those last two lines I might use later in a poem.  

Speaking of which, I had a professor tell me I didn't have the heart of a poet. Little did that guy know that this year I'd publish my first chapbook. I'm not stopping at that. Hopefully I'll get a book deal sometime soon. 

I've moved three states, but haven't lived overseas. Unless I count those weeks I spent in Japan as a kid - which I sometimes do. It was six amazing weeks spent with my aunt and uncle. It took me nearly 18 years to visit again. 

I miss the days I spent in school. Then I remember the stress of tests, the anxiety to "fit in", and the unpleasant changes my body went through. I appreciate that those years are long over. 

Three decades seems like a long time, but so did five years when I turned six. Some days I feel too young for the problems that I face and should be ordering kids meals at Fridays. Other days I'm so ancient, I haven't a clue who's the guest host at The Kid's Choice Awards.

Were the 70s really 50 years ago?

My sibling's been married, my friends are having kids and I'm at home binge watching "Naruto" for the nth time. Somehow I ended up with a cat.

Three decades is a weird spot to sit. I'm an adult, but I still am learning like I did as a kid. I pass, I fail, I play in the dirt - it's now called gardening. I'm thinking about buying a home, but I don't want the responsibility. Then again, I somehow ended up responsible for a cat.

When I think about the present, I usually hate it. But the past is always a fairy tale. The harsh edges and rough patches glossed over like one of the photos in my albums. Do people still keep photo albums or is that just me?

So here's to the 2020s, the 2010s were a ride. And here's to the 30s, 40s, and 50s - may the 90s kids excel. Three decades are gone and three more are to come.

Until next week.

If you enjoyed this post (or it really pissed you off), please like, share and/or leave a comment. I love hearing from my readers and I hope y'all like hearing from me.

Now how to update my blog summary...?

Welcome to Losing a Beloved Pet

My dog, Gertrude, died on Tuesday. On some level I'm still processing that she's gone. I just saw her while vising my mom in Michigan for the holidays. On another level, I knew that it was very likely to be the last time I saw her.

Gertrude was nearly 14 years old. We had had her since she was a tiny puppy who could barely jump onto the couch. She grew until she was nearly 3 times the size that we had thought she would be (75 lbs versus 35 lbs). I especially loved her awkward puppy phase where she was nothing but legs and ears.

She was my first Facebook profile picture and the first time someone tried to make fun of my blog, they specifically referenced how they "didn't want to hear about my dog" (I blocked them). She was a constant companion during high school and always happy to see me when I came home for a visit after I moved away. She was a Boarder Collie German Shepard mix and could fit in my dad's hand when she was a puppy. She was sort of friends with our cat, Karma. In the last years of her life, she got to play with her adopted sister Millie.

I'm glad she had a good long life.

She wasn't my first dog or even my first pet. My sister and I raised hermit crabs for a long time before we finally got our first dog. He was an equally wonderful dog who would never have allowed anything bad to happen to the family. It was tough when he died and we waited a while before adopting Gertrude.

Pets are wonderful family members, and yes they are family. It's nearly impossible not to love a dog or cat or hamster or any of the other furry critters that come into our lives. I'll even give people who raise reptiles as pets credit. The amount of pictures of cute pet snakes on Pinterest alone can have me falling into a black hole of saying "aww" for an hour or two.

There are many days I wish I had a pet with me. I'd love to come home to an excited pooch happy to see me. But it's just not possible right now. Pets are a huge responsibility and I couldn't commit to having one with my current lifestyle. Plus I'm super allergic to most pets that aren't dogs.

Instead I raise plants.

Plants aren't animals, though, and they are hard to cuddle with (especially my temperamental cactus). Also, when a plant dies, I don't feel quite as bad. Don't get me wrong, I'm still sad when I accidentally kill one of my plants, but I've taken steps to only look after really hardy plants that are really hard to kill.

My emotional attachment to a pet is a lot higher than to a plant. I am still adverse to watching any emotionally driven movie or horror movie with a dog in it. It's an almost automatic hard stop if a dog, cat, or horse dies. I've heard a number of authors state that they avoid killing a pet (especially a dog) because it will generate enough hate mail to fill their entire house.

A pet's passing is something that hits us right in our basic emotions. I cried for a few hours while I tried to process that Gertrude was gone. Other people also understood how I felt. Everyone who has heard of Gert's passing has been very nice and sending me their condolences.

I wasn't the only person in my sphere of friends to have lost a furry family member. From what I was able to gather, these beloved pets were also older and had lived good long lives. They were loved and cherished until the end.

I'm going to miss Gertrude. She was awesome.

If you enjoyed this post (or it really hit you in the feels) please like, share, and/or leave a comment. I love hearing from my readers and I hope you guys like hearing from me.

Welcome to the Speed of Time

Do you guys remember a time when it felt like the school year would never end? Or when summer vacation seemed to last forever and a day? Does it sometimes feel time is now slipping away faster and faster than it did a decade ago?

Apparently this weird shift in how we perceive time isn't unusual as we age. Scientists seem to think its because our brains prioritizes new memories rather than familiar ones, which makes it seem like our childhood lasted a lot longer than a decade as an adult does.

The sense of loosing time is usually accompanied by a the feelings of regret, melancholy, and the idea that there might be missing. I also start to feel the weight of my mortality.

I'm not old. In the description of this blog, it says that I was somewhere in my twenties, at least when I started it. I'll let you guys speculate on my actual age, but it's not like I've "aged" that. What's five years to someone who has graduated college and ventured forth on their own?

This year is the sixth anniversary since the start of a show called Gravity Falls. It was a fun show on one of the Disney channels about two kids spending a summer with their Great Uncle in the middle of no where Oregon. The creator of the show always knew how it would end and that the story would only encompass one summer. The finale was shown three years ago and it lived up to my expectations.

I think you can still watch it on Hulu.

The reason I bring up this show is because the creator explicitly stated that it was inspired by his own summer vacations with his twin sister. He recalls feeling that summers felt endless and that they would be kids forever.

But nothing lasts forever and all things come to an end.

Just like the creator's summer did. Just like the summer Mable and Dipper Pines had in Gravity Falls (that was also the name of the town the show took place in).

I think that's why I get so sad sometimes. It happens when I realize how long it's been since a major life event happened or an enjoyable tradition ended. Around this time last year, I went to the beach with my mom, sister, and aunt. We used to go every year for two weeks at the end of August to this town in Southern New Jersey. I have very fond memories from this time and occasionally I like to pretend that it's still the 90s or early 2000s. But the reality is that we haven't consistently gone to this beach for at least 12(?), 15(?) years old - well it's been over a decade at least.

These are days where it makes me really sad that I can never go back to those times. It's not the same anymore. Somethings seem to be the same, but I can see where time has taken it's toll. Faded paint on the mini golf course, a new store where the ice cream parlor used to be, and the rides on the boardwalk are a lot smaller than when I was six.

Those exact moments only exist in my memories now.

Memories, though, aren't always a guarantee. There are diseases that can wipe out our fondest memories and others that prevent us from creating new ones. I like to try and record what I can, if for no other reason than writing helps me process the things going on in my life. Most I keep private, but some I share on social media and in my blog posts.

Recently, a cousin of mine passed away. Part of me didn't feel it was real until I attended her memorial service. It felt like I was talking to her not all that long ago, promising to see her again at our next family reunion. Then I remembered that that conversation had happened at my family reunion last August. Part of me still feels like I'll see my cousin in just a couple months.

Though it's been over a decade, I still sometimes hear my grandparent's laughter. I can close my eyes and explore the houses I grew up in, even when I haven't been there in years. They're very clear memories and they don't feel like they happened as long ago as they actually did.

I can only hope to create more memories of the new moments in my life and break away from my day-to-day routine whenever I can. I want to have adventures, see the world, and try everything that I can. I want to build memories and fill my life with lots of stories.

Keeping memories is a lot like writing a novel. We only keep the ones that are important to the story we want to tell. We cut out the mundane, ignore the routine, and exaggerate the awesome.

I hope that when I finish writing my story, it's one that's worth remembering.

If you enjoyed this post (or it really pissed you off) please like, share, and/or leave a comment. I love hearing from my readers and I hope you guys like hearing from me.

Until next week.

Welcome To Letting Go

It Never Seems To Get Easier...

Happy Superb Owl Sunday! I am watching the game while writing this. I’m not really rooting for anyone. They aren’t my teams and I don’t have any motivation to simply pick one. I’m more interested in seeing the commercials and hearing about the after parties in the two states that have legalized pot.  I am betting that the news articles will be interesting tomorrow. 

I am watching the game on my new couch. It is my first new couch. I have decided to call her Sea Boat because of her color (a nice sea blue). Her little brother, Bubbles (the matching chair I ordered) is currently MIA. It is somewhat inconvenient for me, but I will live. With the addition of Sea Boat and Bubbles, I had to do some redecorating. This included getting rid and moving the chairs that had been in my living space since I moved in. 

The big green chair (I call him Big Blue even though he is technically green) has been moved to my dining area along with my desk and work stuff (for when it snows and I’m stuck at home to work).  The area now looks like a neat little study nook and lounge for when I need natural light and want to sit near my cactus. My lava lamp will be joining this area shortly. The dining table and chairs (read card table and folding chairs) is closer to the kitchen now, but not totally in the way. 

I have two “new” lamps. They are not actually new, they are actually really old. One is from the Philippines (circa 1950s or 60s) and I’m not sure where the other one is from. I finally got rid of the fire hazard that was the black floor lamp (its base was broken and no there wasn’t any way to fix it). I think these two new lamps bring a little more character to my home. 

Finally and saddest of all, I got rid of Big Brown. Yes the big brown chair that was nearly three decades old (27 years for an exact age), is now in couch heaven. Taps might have been heard playing as I paid my respects near the dumpster where I laid him to rest. I can’t even look at the dumpster he’s in right now. I almost called my mom to help me fish him back out, clean him and cuddle with him once more. I even cried a bit (I know it’s really pathetic, but I did). All of this emotion was used on a chair. I couldn’t have cared less about the lamp, but the chair I nearly lost it over. 

It is a little stupid to be broken up over a chair and before people ask about why I didn’t sell him on Craig’s List or donate him I will explain. This chair was old, broken and smelled like cigars and wet dogs. No amount of Febreze ever got rid of the smell. To me he smelled like home. To other people (friends who visited) he was just a little unpleasant and stinky. Also the matching couch was already in couch heaven. I thought they needed to be reunited after all the years of separation. 

I almost want to blame movies like “Toy Story” and “The Brave Little Toaster” for the emotional damage that came with tossing this couch. These movies (among others that personified inanimate objects) caused me to form major attachment to things and make me think of them as emotional beings. I thought they were great stories and movies, but I think they might have helped develop a psychological attachment to objects. I wonder how many others of my generation developed this odd sense of loyalty to things that can’t actually feel.

 I also recognize that it sort of symbolizes me further letting go of my childhood. Some of my first memories are of that chair and using it to make forts or as a jungle gym. I’m pretty sure I used to use it as a balance beam to practice gymnastics as a toddler. In essence, by getting rid of Big Brown I am getting rid of childhood and finally embracing adulthood. Hopefully I don’t keep having this problem otherwise my therapy bills are going to be through the roof.

If you enjoyed this post (or it really pissed you off) please share or comment on it anyway you can. I love hearing from people who read my blog and thank all of you very much for taking the time to read about my transitions into adulthood. I am still exploring Wonderland and I hope someone somewhere is getting something out of this. I know I am (therapy). Until next time, enjoy the Big Game. Half time was awesome.