enfinblue's Bluey (credit to Fifi for the nickname!) Diaryland Diary

"I am seeking, I am striving, I am in it with all my heart." -Vinc3nt V@n Gogh

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Things that make you go hmmm...

Oh my friends. All the climates of feeling one goes through in a day. It's almost as bad as the melty craziness that is Ottawa at the moment.

I woke up this morning feeling dried out and draggy. I'm not sure why. I hate this feeling that one gets, as though one's sinuses are bloated and pulling and dragging one's face into a stretchy position not unlike the straining animal skins or sinews on a drum.

Gee, that was a long description of my face.

So after showering and dressing myself relatively appropriately - blue shirt, black pleated skirt, black boots- I donned my coat and headed out to the bus to the Children's A!d. It's a nice thing to have a couple of hours to yourself. And my boss was accommodating, so I didn't need to rush back.

Good grief the bleakness of the suburbs when the snow is all melty-like, though. I've never understood how people can tolerate going to work and living near industrial parks. Why do they need so much space?

I'm such an urban dweller. I should have been European. I like apartments in the city, and weekends out in the woods. It's a good balance. I don't need a big lawn to mow (or many rooms to dust - Ick!). But to each his own!

Children's A!d was good. It is a more cheerful place than I had expected, and the woman in charge was of course a lovely lady and not without humour. I told them about my bike bell ticket when they asked me about any experiences with the law.

I made it just in time to use my transfer to get back on the bus, so that was nice. No need to spend another $3. Sitting on the bus I had two thoughts:

1) I really am ugly. When you look around you can see so many beautiful faces. There were three girls sitting in the row across from me who had absolutely exquisite features. I'm amazed that any man has ever wanted to date me. But that is neither here nor there: I heard a famous Canadian artist in her nineties once remark, "I realized at some point that I am not loved for my appearance." She said it with such peace and acceptance that I feel this belief is attainable for me, too.
2) One doesn't have to be a parent to be giving of oneself in a useful way. Of course I knew that already. As I wrote a couple of weeks ago, in fact, I recently listened to a radio interview with a real spit and vinegar type of elderly lady, who had volunteered as a coordinator at a food bank for many years and who now, given physical limitations, generally finds projects around her neighbourhood with which to preoccupy herself. Her latest was to get a park reopened for children. Again, she expressed herself with such peace: "Oh pshaw! I don't need the children to know that I got them a park. The sound of children playing is enough thanks. I take my cane and walk up the hill to sit there and listen to them." In that moment and retelling of the story I wanted to be her. Perhaps I will be her. She sounded like someone whom I would wish to know. She had no children of her own.

Oh! Oh! On the bus out to the concrete bleakness that is suburban Ottawa this morning, I saw the most beautiful face of an indigent man. He was toothless and weathered but such expression! I wanted to draw him.

Have I ever mentioned that when I volunteered at the homeless shelter in Washington D.C. when I was there at 22, the thing that most amazed me was the history of ART in the shelter? I'm not joking when I tell you that there were museum quality pieces there. I remember in particular the person touring us through mentioning that some of the earlier works were actually by a former slave. I can't remember the specifics.

That's about it. I'm meandering.

When I got to work this morning and was walking through the marble or granite or whatever corridors, past the guys in expensive suits with clean finger nails and perfectly framed glasses, talking about golf, I realized on particular thing:

I have a clean job.

In economics we always talk about "clean" and "dirty" jobs. Not quite in this context but I think you can guess what I mean. You get compensated with some "dirtiness" premium in some dirty jobs - working at a nuclear power station or as a garbage collector, for example. In other words compared with jobs of similar skill you'll get pay to compensate for the physical disadvantages of the work. At least sometimes.

I'm really off topic. In any event I was redefining the terminology for myself. What I want to say is that I work in a clean job, when perhaps I was supposed to work in a dirty job.

I'm lacking the kind of dirtiness in a job that engages one's emotions, one's senses. Perhaps the new designation should be a distinction between "sterile" and "fecund" jobs.

Yes, yes, I think that's it.

Perhaps it's a boon that I'm in this place right now, in the sense that it is causing me to truly rethink my relationship with work. It's causing me to think seriously about where I want to be in the long term. Will I take the easy road or yet another windy and ultimately more rewarding one?

On this note I have something else to say. Last night in my moment of bleakness I was perusing the comments on The S@rtorialist. This is easily my favourite website on the net: everyone needs a little bit of eye candy every now and then. What a release.

And one of the comments had a link to a blog with a funny picture of a face on it. So I went to the blog. I was about to dismiss it as a bunch of self-indulgent tripe (gee, am I one to be talking? :)) when realized that she had a point. Sure, the grammar is bad, the pictures grossly flattering and sometimes semi-pornographic, but when you dig a little bit what a good message: Live your best life ever. I think that's the name of the blog. I think it's at bl0gspot or bl0gs.com. You can't control much that happens to you, but you can control everything that you think about your life and your reality. It may seem as though I'm advocating delusion as a medicament, but, really, is the cold hard truth always more useful than a dream? I think I'm going to try her trick: focus on what I love. Her blog has served its stated goal. Thank you to her.

Don't worry - I'm not going to start posting semi-nude pictures of myself. :)

1:07 p.m. - 2008-01-10

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