The New Leaf, and How I'm Turning It Over

This past week, I've come to a lot of realizations about the state of my being. I felt sluggish, unhealthy, sick, unsatisfied, and often times moderately miserable. Ya basta, people, ya basta. So now David is up to some remodeling in hopes of getting out of this puddle of self-loathing. It simply isn't becoming of someone so young and potentially attractive.

First things first, relationships have been pretty ridiculous this summer. Not going to lie. I've learned a lot through the processes, but I'm a little exhausted and tired of it all. So I decided to enter into a relationship I never even considered: a relationship with myself. Now I'm not at all going to deny the fact that this is a pretty cliched concept. Being so cliched however, I'm surprised I didn't think of it sooner. So starting now, I'm cutting myself off from anything resembling a "prospect" or potential date. I need to do some introspection for a while--figure out how to enjoy, respect, love, and spend time with me.

I'm hoping this won't take long, this whole self-discovery. But I'm almost certain it will [conversely] last a lifetime. It won't ever really cease, but I think for now I need to reach a satisfying quota of selfishness. It's really been nice though. I go to Whole Foods, buy foods to cook for myself, treat myself regularly to White Gummis at Jamba, and meditate for periods of time. I'm working out regularly (praise Great Spirit), eating better, and just trying to squeeze every last bit of enjoyment out of life.

The bottom line is, regardless of what my dating status is, I need to be able to be happy. I'm also trying to be more appreciative of people in my life who have helped, inspired, and supported me through the more trying times. It's astounding to me how much love I've got coming my way. Anyways, I hope this blog hasn't been excessively corny or ridiculous, and I sincerely hope dear reader that you do something for you today. And if you're already feeling pretty good, why not do something for someone else? Maybe someone who you've neglected, someone you miss, or someone who isn't feeling as hot as you feel.

I really want to make sense of this...

Originally written 6/26/08

So I’m sitting here at the Amsterdam airport. Schiphol Airport, to be more exact. I think it kinda sounds like shithole, but this is one of the most modern airports I've ever been to. So maybe mis-misnomer? It’s been a long journey here, no doubt, but I’m going where I need to go to say the least. We’ll just start from the beginning, though.

This tale of sorts began with my mother telling me I was leaving on a Wednesday for my trip to Venice. Little did I know, I was supposed to leave Tuesday to arrive Wednesday in Philly to meet up with my gal pal Sara, and just fly direct to Venice from there. But, no such luck. I full on missed my Tuesday night flight, blissfully unaware.

So on Wednesday morning (it’s Thursday afternoon here in Amsterdam now, but as far as I’m concerned I’m still stuck on this Wednesday morning), I turned on my phone and was bombarded by voicemail after voicemail, text message after text message from Sara asking if I was okay, and more importantly the question, “where the hell are you David?”

And the good old narcissistic side in me said, “Ha! What a meaningless worry this is! I’m leaving tonight, Sara!” And then I finally checked out a document I should have much earlier in the week called a travel itinerary, from United Airlines. Boy was I wrong. And from there it was just a gay panic with just lots of shouting at myself and quite a bit of sobbing. I thought I was going to miss this trip entirely. How could I miss this trip?

So I called Sara and within seconds I was booked on another flight that would make it to Venice only hours after my original travel plans said I would. Of course, the sum of money required to do so was nothing to shake a stick at, and I have no idea how I’m going to produce this amount of money to cover my ass. Suffice it to say, here I am in Amsterdam, scheduled to take off in another two hours or so.

But why don’t we start with my last plane ride, from San Francisco to Amsterdam. Okay so just to put all of this into perspective, the flight left the Bay Area at around three pm. It arrived at 10:30AM in Amsterdam. I slept about an hour, shallowly, with children kicking me from behind (wonders never cease) and a rather large Scandinavian man next to me who had those “long dancers legs” but sans the dancer part. Eek. And I was pushed into that godawful window seat.

But the flight ended, and so did most of the sorrow associated with it. Can’t say I didn’t enjoy a Heine extra cold at the bar about an hour ago. And I can’t say I’m not enjoying stroopwafels as I type this whole thing out. But something just doesn’t feel right about all of this.

Forgetting a flight isn’t at all my forte. Forgetting anything isn’t really my forte, really. But I suppose there are distractions and misnformations and blindspots people simply can’t avoid, no matter how hard they try. I can’t just sit here and say this is all my mother’s fault, because it’s not. But I can’t say I wasn’t a little misled, or a little misinformed as to my date of departure.

I just hate what a gay panic I was brought into. I’ve been fighting myself as to who’s fault it was for hours now, and I think it’s finally time for me to just get to Venice, see the gal pal and just say fuck it until I return to the real world on July 7th. More job assignments are upcoming, more time still with the house to myself, and more recently, more time to spend with one of my most favorite distractions. It’s one of those vacations you’ll get to enjoy and return from, because maybe you left something (or someone?) at home you miss.