I Kind of Had a Point, But Then I Started Talking About Geology

I've been thinking a lot about love lately.
There's lots of different kinds of love--there's love, and then there's love; love, but also Love.
I love dinosaur chicken nuggets, but I love my cats. I Love humanity some days, but on others, I love them.

It's complicated. (So saith my Facebook relationship status.)

I love the things that I love by default, I suppose, because they move me in some way. Like language, for example. I love language because it's so simultaneously infinite and limited. It's primary, it's prolific, and yet sometimes, it doesn't matter at all. All the words in the world can't achieve what a simple touch or look can. Collectively, we probably have a word for every emotion that has ever been felt, but when you're in that moment, words simply can't describe what it is that you're feeling in every facet of your being.
And I think that's pretty neat.
But it's easy for me to love the things that I love (except when they wake me up with a hurk hurk hurk SPLAT at four AM), that I don't often think about the things that other people love. And I think you really miss out on the world when you can't see the beauty of something through someone else's eyes.

Take, for instance, geology.
Did you know people get PhDs in that shit? Literally. You can be a doctor. In rocks. And sediment. (Even soil!)
Whyyyyyyyyyyyyy
What I see as unearthly (hee) boring (and sometimes pretty, depending on the level of shiny), someone else sees as beautiful and fascinating. They can tell me where the rock lives, how long it's been living, what's been living (or not living, as is more often the case) in it, whether or not it's igneous or metamorphic or that other one I forgot the name of.
And just like my eyes light up when I'm going on and on about the Seven Ages of the English language or Buffy or my cats, so do the eyes of the people who like shit that I think is boring. And I can see their love and their passion, it's palpable, and even though I'm probably still bored because it's still a rock, in that moment, I feel how they feel and I really can't describe how I feel other than "warm and fuzzy inside."

When someone has the ability to show you what makes something special, what sets it apart from all the other things, I think that's really a gift. So the next time I'm blathering on about the cute thing that my cat did or the Great Vowel Shift, remember...I'm a fucking gem, get used to it.

Tangerine

So, the relationship that kinda-sorta happened has ended.
I think.
Well, I've been friendzoned, at least.
Which is kinda confusing, cause if I had to make the judgement call, I think it was more him pursuing me than anything else.
Or maybe it was more our friends were just like, damn, you guys are both socially retarded and ronery, I guess this could be a thing?
He's like natural sciences smart
And I'm humanities (lulz, I know, right?) and social sciences intelligent.
But anyway.
I still really have no idea why...I mean, we seemed to mutually agree that we like each other, but I guess I should have tried to suss out whether it was like like or middle school like.
At first I was like, maybe I'm horribly unattractive and snort when I laugh?
Then I was like, pssshht. As if.
I suppose the most logical explanation would be that he's busy?
But like, if you were busy in the first place, why would you be like, dateyes?
And like, he's still cool
And being friends is fine
I guess I'm mainly upset because it seems my track record for relationships with the opposite sex are like HELLOOOOOCRASHANDBURN
And I did not expect this one to be not a relationship quite so quickly
And I am SO MELODRAMATIC about my lack of ability to perceive things
So I just keep downloading breakup songs
And listening to fucking Amy Lee
And Christina Aguilera, I'll be honest
But then I'm like, Self, get ahold of you
This wasn't even a breakup
It was barely a relationship

Pretty much what I'm taking away from this is that a casual date is not a surefire track to relationshiphood
And that while I am still extremely awkward relationally towards males I am attracted to, I am at least capable of carrying on a conversation and being myself and whatnot.
AND ALSO there is this Led Zeppelin song called Tangerine that I downloaded because the last time we spoke about being not in a relationship, we spoke at length about my tangerine chap stick (or at least longer than most people discuss lip moisturizer). I felt comfortable enough to say that I was super anxious about kissing him because I was really worried about having chapped lips and I didn't want him to think I was gross cause of scraggly lips, and he was like, yeah, pretty much that doesn't matter.
So, I learned something.
And actually we never kissed.

Well.

He hugged me when I left, and instead of being a normal human being and just straight up reciprocating a friendly embrace, I kissed him on the cheek. But in a really weird spot, kinda right on his jaw line.
And then my face was instantly WHAT THE FUCK DID I JUST DO ARE YOU SERIOUS
Because I have no control whatsoever over my face
And I didn't mean it like, sexily
It was just kind of reflexive
But like, I don't kiss people
Ever
Except my Italian relatives from Michigan
So really I have no idea WTF that business was about


So in summation, I am kind of bummed, but I at least know where I stand, even though I am still pretty thoroughly confused.

living in a bell jar

sometimes I worry about all the social media I use, because once it’s out on the intertubes, it’s out, and it can’t be taken back.

with a click of a button, my inner thoughts, feelings, emotions and funny pictures of cats are up for grabs, and I wonder what that will mean for me in ten, twenty, however many years.

my thoughts don’t feel private.

as soon as I think a thought, I consider whether or not it’s Facebook-status worthy.

it’s usually not, but I do it anyway.

it’s catharsis I’m looking for, and since I’m not finding it in drugs, alcohol, therapy or repressed childhood memories, I keep writing, keep blogging, keep tumbling.

it helps, I think, because I get to say things that I don’t always feel brave enough to say in person.

moo.

Last Kiss

It was brought to my attention recently how differently I perceive things. I could go on and on about how reality is relative, but for the purposes of maintaining my sanity and also your attention, I'll just limit myself to this particular instance of misperception, or non-neurotypical perception, as is the case.

Okay, I am the worst at brevity.

So there's this song called "Last Kiss," originally released by Wayne Cochran in 1961, but the version that I'm most familiar with is Pearl Jam's cover. Long story short, boy takes ladyfriend for a date in his father's car, loses control, and ladyfriend dies. Then he's all:

Oh where, oh where, can my baby be?
The Lord took her away from me
She's gone to heaven, so I've got to be good
So I can see my baby when I leave this world

And then I was all,

*IMITATE SCREECHING BREAKS WHICH IS FAIRLY INSENSITIVE GIVEN THE CONTEXT OF THE SONG*

I was probably fourteen or fifteen at the time, so I really didn't know much about driving and how accidents happen and whatnot. So when I heard,

We were out on a date in my daddy's car
We hadn't driven very far
There in the road, straight ahead
A car was stalled, the engine was dead
I couldn't stop, so I swerved to the right

All I could think was, WTF were you doing in that car that made you not pay attention to the road, dumbass?!

#empathy

I thought to myself, if I were borrowing my parental unit's car, I would be EXTRA SUPER DUPER CAREFUL to not crash it because I CLEARLY would not be able to afford a replacement vehicle. And of the object in the road, straight ahead? If he's driving on a relatively straight road, as he denotes with the 'straight ahead,' he should have had PLENTY of time to stop if he were driving with the proper precautions. And I don't know that I thought about it at the time, but I'm curious to know whether or not the stalled vehicle had put on their hazard lights.

Aspie-me thought (thinks, even) that this tragedy could have all been avoided if he would have checked his hormones for like fifteen minutes to pay. attention. to. the. road.

What really ground (grinded?) my gears, though, was the fact that the singer believed that the Lord had taken his ladyfriend away, when clearly, by all logical standpoints, he was the one at fault.

The song legitimately made me sick for that reason. I thought he was just a stupid dudebro who wasn't paying any attention to the road, and while he may not have deserved what he got (mostly 'cause it was kinda the ladyfriend that got the shitty end of the deal), he had no place looking for any kind of sympathy because of the error of his ways.

It makes me kind of sad that I used to feel this way.

I happened to bring this up to my 53-year-old friend (heretofore to be known as "Beaner," and no, it's not a racial slur [well, it is, but not in this context], it's her actual nickname), and she shook her head and laughed at my interpretation. Then she did that thing where she looks at me for a period of time, and I get this look a lot, and from all kinds of different people, but I've yet to decipher its meaning, and she asks me, "Do you always think of things like that?"

And, in true Aspie fashion, I was all, "Like what?"

It really never occurs to me that other people don't always see the world as I do. Well. Sometimes I guess it does, but it's always a constant surprise when it's brought to my attention so starkly. She explained that the song came out when she was about four, and that it makes her cry every time (and also that it's the only song she knows by heart on the guitar; as she was in a band for most of her twenties, this is significant). Where she seen the whole picture, even at age four, how tragic something like this can be--is, I only seen pieces of the puzzle, seen only the elements that I could strip down and analyze and process. (Seriously, I think I'm a robot.)

Maybe because I drive now, or because I'm older and slightly more worldly, or even because I've had my heart broken, but I get it now. And not just in an intellectual sense. This song, when I'm really listening to it, when I'm really absorbed in it, will bring me to tears. And I rarely cry unless it's that damn Sarah McLaughlin commercial about abused animals or the end of The Little Mermaid.

It's funny how radically a song's meaning changed for me over the course of seven years. I guess that means I'm growing, which is good, but it kind of makes me wonder how I'm doing in other aspects of my life. I still really, really hurt over Stupid Boy, but then I wonder if I'm just hurting because I'm constantly misperceiving things. I want to trust my instincts and my perceptions because I honestly believe this AS is a gift, but on the other hand, I know it can make me somewhat narrow-minded (if that's even the right term for what I feel).

Even if I am misperceiving, it still doesn't change the day-to-day reality of my emotional turmoil (yeah, it sounds kinda melodramatic, but it's fo real). And even that sidebar just now! Why do I feel like I'm being melodramatic? Aren't my emotions valid? Shouldn't I describe them however I want or feel?

I feel, again, like there is a neurotypical girl trapped in the AS. And I think once I figure out how to properly harness my mutant Asperger's superpowers, I will be unstoppable.

Right now, though, I just feel stagnant.

This Doesn't Really Have a Point but Bear With Me

I'm unsure of how to proceed here
Lot's happened since last I wrote
But also, a lot of nothing happened
As is generally the case in my life

I still get most of my social interaction from work
And I still have noooo idea WTF to do with my life
But I've kinda decided that by January, I will start looking for real life employment
At least, something that is moderately in my field
AND ALSO
I want to apply to school again
Because I'm pretty certain that working with teens with Asperger's is a thing I'd be good at
Mostly cause I am like
PERSONAL EXPERIENCE OUT THE WAZOO
But like
I am so unsure of how to proceed in that area also
Because how do you Google search "degrees in Asperger's?"
Believe you me, the results that come up are the opposite of helpful
they're all
ONLINE DEGREES, YES?
And I'm all
BITCH PLEASE
As much as being in a room full of strangers and trying to fit in with them is difficult
That is EXACTLY the shit I need to be doing
NOT being on the computer
Too much of my time is wasted interacting on the internets

And like
Don't get me wrong
Facebook and all the social media have been awesome tools for helping me keep in contact with friends from college who've moved far, far away from the deep recesses of Northwestern Pennsylvania
And I'm all
GO FRIENDS, IT'S YOUR BIRTHDAY
Because I love them and I'm so happy to see them go out and pursue their dreams

But again
I feel like I'm suffocating because I'm not also doing those things
And granted, I am learning a hell of a lot where I work now socially
I love the people I work with, mostly
And the thought of leaving genuinely bums me the fuck out
But I'M LIKE A BIRD and I WANNA FLY AWAY
because I know neither WHERE MY SOUL IS nor THE GEOGRAPHIC LOCATION OF MY DOMICILE
Apologies for the brief Nelly Furtado interlude
I have issues

So basically I've given myself four months to continue life as I've been living it
Which is to say, not really living to my fullest potential
And then it's application time
Though probably I should look into grad schools before that

I was also considering reconnecting with some of my high school personnel that helped me out when I was a perpetual train wreck
Like Sitz, my English teacher who steered me toward Allegheny and also kinda took me under her wing
And V, who put up with all my random angsty bullshit and who I think is secretly a saint
I'm just, ONCE AGAIN, unsure how to proceed
Because I'm learning that so much of life is about who you know
Granted, that's not the all of it
But it IS important
More important than I have ever realized
Even relevant to my own experience, because of the three jobs I've ever held, two I've acquired because of familial or friend connections
Of course, I've KEPT the jobs because I am a good worker
But I was given the chance because of those connections
And if I do connect to said people, I'm kinda hoping they might hook it up with THEIR connections
But then I wonder, am I really doing myself any favors by always leaning on other people to do the social grunt work for me? Even if that's how a lot of neurotypicals do it?

I look back on my life
And mostly I think
HUH
ASPERGER'S
GOOD GOD, Y'ALL
What is it good for?

Is it absolutely nothing or absolutely everything?
How much of it is me and how much of it is the disorder?
Is there even a line between the two?
How do I reach people?
How do I exist, how do I embrace, how do I resist?

Bound By Wild Desire

Here's the thing.
This whole "setting things on fire" thing that's been getting so popular nowadays?
Been sayin' that shit since 2010.
Before Adele.
Before that "We Are Young" song.
Before Katniss.
Before my graduation speaker.

Now, it doesn't really bother me that setting things on fire has become a thing, cause I'm like YES PYROMANIA IN ALL THE THINGS but it really grinds my gears that people think it's just a fad I'm following. Like, okay, it originated with Johnny Cash's "Ring of Fire," which is (one of) the songs my dad used to play for me as a child. So when I say that I'm touched by fire, or bound by wild desire, I'm not just going along with some catchy pop culture shit.

It's in my blood, bro.
In my neurological wiring.

Fire is absolutely fucking fascinating because it is both life-sustaining and lethal. It is equally beautiful as it is horrifying. Less literally, it is the thing that keeps you going when shit's got you down, but at the same time, it is the thing that will consume you and burn you out if you can't learn to check yoself.

Back when I was diagnosed as bipolar, I was all, "woot, touched by fire like all these historical badasses and also Kay Redfield Jameson!" But now that I know I'm AS, I'm like...how the fuck is it possible to be touched by fire and have the emotional variation of ice cubes? And not in a "I'm-super-cold-and-distant-and-have-no-emotional-ties-to-anyone-ever" way, but in the sense that I sometimes lack the ability to be touched by others in certain ways because of a neurological wall of ice that prevents me from understanding what the fuck is going on most of the time.

I do feel, and I am capable of reciprocating love and other emotional feelings, but some, even most of the time, it doesn't always come naturally. Or instinctively, rather. I think the reason I have passed under the AS radar for so long is that I am a good observer; I can see how other people act and react, and I trial and error the hell out of that shit until I think I've got it mostly right.

Like hugging, for instance. Never been big on it. It's not that I don't like hugs, or that it causes me physical pain like some people on the spectrum, it's just not something that comes naturally. And I've hurt people's feelings because of it, and never really understood why. Now that I'm older, it's gotten better--if I can assess based on someone else's emotional needs that they require physical contact when greeting, departing, or sadness or happiness is involved, I can usually reciprocate without having being told to do so. Usually, though, I still have to ask if it's okay, particularly with things that involve crying or sadness.

And honestly, I think my methodology should be everyone's goddamn methodology, but that could be because I might actually be an alien robot.

Anyway.

I wrote this post because I'm always so goddamn torn between fire and ice. Almost as if there is a neurotypical Girl on Fire stuck somewhere inside, dying to make contact and to feel and to envelop others in my warmth and light, but that girl is trapped by the AS Ice Queen, who comes off as cold and immovable and who would sink the FUCK out of the Titanic.

I don't even know how I exist sometimes, but I know I am worthwhile. I just wish I was able to harness my mutant AS powers for good instead of laying around and staring in abject silence all day.

You Don't Meet a Girl Like Me Every Dynasty

For being only twenty-two, I feel like I've lived a lot of life. Or, rather, have had a lot of life experiences, largely negative, happen within a time frame that is atypical from the average white, middle-class lady experience. At the same time, though, it feels like I haven't lived at all--most of the cultural markers of adulthood have not happened to me yet. And I guess to some extent, that list is subjective; it's true that I did go to college, did purchase my own first car (or got a loan for it, at lease, lolpun), went abroad, have road tripped independently, et cetera.

The life experiences I'm referencing the lack thereof, however, are more in regards to relationships. Now that I've got my AS diagnosis, this really makes sense, because even if someone were all, "ohey, sexual," it would probably go right over my head. Conceptually, I understand flirting and its function in male-to-female relations (lolheterosexism, but in this case, it's applicable), but as I can neither understand nor reciprocate these subtle and confusing cues, I feel #foreveralone.

Rudy Simone touches upon this subject (re:sexypantsness & dating) in Aspergirls, and the entire chapter is marked to hell with OMGWTFBBQs and exclamation points because finally, finally, FINALLY someone GETS it and explains it in a way that makes it seem like I'm not a pouty, whiny thirteen-year-old who thinks it's the end of the world because a boy did not ask her to the middle school dance. It runs deeper than that. WAY deep, like in the way that my brain is wired. Here is the thing she said (one of them, anyway) that makes SO MUCH SENSE to me: "Informed thought-out choices are the best ones as opposed to 'love at first sight' for an Aspergirl, simply because we don't read others' intentions all that well at first, and we may take longer to get to know someone. Ideally we must try and take our time."

The extent to which this profoundly touched me cannot adequately be put into words. As I've said before, a lot of my friends are procreating, living together, getting engaged, married, real life employment, and I feel like I'm absolutely drowning in all the not adult things I'm doing with my life. Simone helped me to understand that not only is this a typical thing for a lass with AS, but it is actually a GOOD thing--I mean, statistics about marriages being more successful when entered upon later in life aside, I realize that at this point in my life, I don't actually want these things. What I'm feeling is partly cultural pressure, but mostly (and more acutely) the fact that I will always be behind developmentally, and it's statistically likely that everything my friends do, I'll be doing five to ten years later.

And that's okay. Good, even.

I am where I am because I need to be. What's meant to be will always find a way. Other various cultural cliches.

Also, since my brain mostly processes things on the level of Disney, these quotes from Mulan are super applicable:

Fa Zhou: My, what beautiful blossoms we have this year. But look, this one's late. But I'll bet that when it blooms, it will be the most beautiful of all.

The Emperor of China: The flower that blooms in adversity is the most rare and beautiful of all.
Shang: Sir?
The Emperor of China: You don't meet a girl like that every dynasty.

Boom.