Loneliness Is Such a Sad Affair
Dec. 4th, 2023 10:24 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
mallorys_cameraOnce I recovered from my cold, I realized… I’m lonely.
Cue Carpenters:
###
In D.C. I was surrounded by people who love me, who get me. My little foibles, unpopular opinions, etc. were sources of amusement.
Here, my little tent feels pitched on thin ice. I’m constantly worrying that I have said the wrong thing, and that humanity will rise up as one to shun me, to reject me.
This is the time of year when I don’t have any outside projects going on. Loneliness is always something one feels most acutely when one isn’t busy enough to fill up the allotted moments, so there is that. If I had a stronger character, I would simply absorb myself in my fiction, my imagined worlds. A few fiction writers whose work for one reason or another is unpublishable through conventional routes—too white, too old—have started publishing on Substack (which offers a mechanism for monetizing one’s work), so there’s kinda a clear path for publication and promotion that wasn’t clear before.
But, you know. Self-motivation has never been one of my big virtues, and the older I get, the worst I am at it.
Also before L’s breakdown, this house felt like a happy place. And now it doesn’t.
###
Front and center in my mind is Christmas.
A holiday which, for various reasons, I dislike.
Both BoyZ will be spending Christmas with paternal relations. Uncle Lew, B’s brother, may well invite me to celebrate in Edinboro (Pennsylvania, not Scotland), but if he does, I almost certainly will refuse because it involves a nearly 1,000-mile round trip along New York State’s Cthulu Highway (a/k/a New York State Route 17) with a better than average chance at lake effect snow.
I’ve kind of been thinking it would be fun to organize a Holiday Orphan party. You’ve seen the movie: Five strangers, adrift at the Happiest Time of the Year, find friendship, meaning, and yes, True Love in one another’s companionship. Kinda like The Breakfast Club for dysfunctional grownups!
Only I don’t have the slightest idea how one might organize something like this. I mean, you know, you don’t want serial killers and con artists joining the merry crew.
Do I put out a casting call on Craigslist? (But Craigslist is pretty sleazy.) On Facebook? (But most of the people I know on Facebook don’t live in the Hudson Valley.) Do I print little posters and attach them to telephone poles? (After Ichabod was born, and I was starved for friends with children because most of my long-term friends were childless by choice, I actually did print up a bunch of posters—Will you be friends with me?—and put them up in various Berkeley & Oakland neighborhoods. And I did make one friend that way—the fabulous Judy J_______, with whom I am still sporadically in touch.)
###
My favorite Christmases in recent years were one I spent with BB hunting for open Chinese restaurants in the mini-urban blight that is Poughkeepsie and another one I spent with Flavia tromping around the fabulous Asian markets of Sunset Park:
What was swellest about these Christmases was their spontaneous nature. I didn’t arrange them.
###
Too bad I don’t play pickleball. Neighbor Ed tells me the local pickleball stalwarts are a really interesting group of people.
###
Anyway, it rained all day yesterday, so I didn’t venture outside the house. In fact, it was a pajama day! I did a lot of cleaning. Cleaning is good for the soul!
Today it is sunny & bright, and I have a lot of errands and shit. So, I must scamper off to ablute and commence the day.
Cue Carpenters:
###
In D.C. I was surrounded by people who love me, who get me. My little foibles, unpopular opinions, etc. were sources of amusement.
Here, my little tent feels pitched on thin ice. I’m constantly worrying that I have said the wrong thing, and that humanity will rise up as one to shun me, to reject me.
This is the time of year when I don’t have any outside projects going on. Loneliness is always something one feels most acutely when one isn’t busy enough to fill up the allotted moments, so there is that. If I had a stronger character, I would simply absorb myself in my fiction, my imagined worlds. A few fiction writers whose work for one reason or another is unpublishable through conventional routes—too white, too old—have started publishing on Substack (which offers a mechanism for monetizing one’s work), so there’s kinda a clear path for publication and promotion that wasn’t clear before.
But, you know. Self-motivation has never been one of my big virtues, and the older I get, the worst I am at it.
Also before L’s breakdown, this house felt like a happy place. And now it doesn’t.
###
Front and center in my mind is Christmas.
A holiday which, for various reasons, I dislike.
Both BoyZ will be spending Christmas with paternal relations. Uncle Lew, B’s brother, may well invite me to celebrate in Edinboro (Pennsylvania, not Scotland), but if he does, I almost certainly will refuse because it involves a nearly 1,000-mile round trip along New York State’s Cthulu Highway (a/k/a New York State Route 17) with a better than average chance at lake effect snow.
I’ve kind of been thinking it would be fun to organize a Holiday Orphan party. You’ve seen the movie: Five strangers, adrift at the Happiest Time of the Year, find friendship, meaning, and yes, True Love in one another’s companionship. Kinda like The Breakfast Club for dysfunctional grownups!
Only I don’t have the slightest idea how one might organize something like this. I mean, you know, you don’t want serial killers and con artists joining the merry crew.
Do I put out a casting call on Craigslist? (But Craigslist is pretty sleazy.) On Facebook? (But most of the people I know on Facebook don’t live in the Hudson Valley.) Do I print little posters and attach them to telephone poles? (After Ichabod was born, and I was starved for friends with children because most of my long-term friends were childless by choice, I actually did print up a bunch of posters—Will you be friends with me?—and put them up in various Berkeley & Oakland neighborhoods. And I did make one friend that way—the fabulous Judy J_______, with whom I am still sporadically in touch.)
###
My favorite Christmases in recent years were one I spent with BB hunting for open Chinese restaurants in the mini-urban blight that is Poughkeepsie and another one I spent with Flavia tromping around the fabulous Asian markets of Sunset Park:
What was swellest about these Christmases was their spontaneous nature. I didn’t arrange them.
###
Too bad I don’t play pickleball. Neighbor Ed tells me the local pickleball stalwarts are a really interesting group of people.
###
Anyway, it rained all day yesterday, so I didn’t venture outside the house. In fact, it was a pajama day! I did a lot of cleaning. Cleaning is good for the soul!
Today it is sunny & bright, and I have a lot of errands and shit. So, I must scamper off to ablute and commence the day.
