An assortment of things

Sad thing:

Leaving my Chinese class for what will be the last time. Professor Xie was sad to see me go, and told me he's been impressed that, given everything in my life of late, I have managed to stick with Chinese for an entire school year. I suppose foolish bloodymindedness did not occur to him, but it was touching. He's a bit of a paternal instructor, and as the year wore on the class shrank steadily. Now everyone's parting ways, and Laoshi, who seems to really enjoy his job, got a bit tenderized at the early migration of one of his students.

On the good side, he's allowing me to take an Incomplete in the course; I only asked because my job training makes it a necessity. Fortunately, he was very supportive and gave me all summer(!) if necessary. Hopefully it shan't come to that. He seemed especially happy to know that, when I move on, I intend to keep learning Mandarin, and opined that I have a strong ability with this language.

Frustrating thing:

The novel has stalled.

I'm irked, because we're now just four chapters away from the end of the rough draft. It's going to need at least one more go through, probably two--so the work is by no means finished. And that's before any sort of workshopping/proofreading, never mind submissions.

We're sitting at nearly 60,000 words! I know that's not much, all told--maybe a novella, really. That changes when I account for the fact that, between expanding "good" sections, filling in the fragmentary chapters and the whole slew of continuity edits we have ready to go...the finished work will almost certainly be substantially longer.

Why'd it stall? Just life, really--all three of us have been occupied of recent; moving, planning to move, work, looking for work, relationships, school, and just life in general have all eaten away at our time.

I remind myself that we have made tremendous progress in just six months; from a few rough chapter outlines to a nearly-completed, if incredibly preliminary draft. This is while life has gone on around us, and in the face of truly amazing continuity edits, setting redesigns, character changes and ongoing plot development.

Scary thing: Oh dear. Now I have a job.

I seem to be taking the anxiety with zen-like calm. I know that there's a good chance I'll look back on this and smile quietly, gently chiding my present-self for such worrying. I know that, but it's still *new*, like virtually everything else I've tried to do to bring me in synch with the world and find a place for myself in it. The emotional stakes run high--what if I fail?, worries that vague, constant sense of insecure dread. I feel, in many ways, like I am only now moving past childhood--because of the relatively sheltered existence I had until a few years ago.

When I got the job at Kinko's I was elated, even knowing it would be work. That's because of how high the emotional stakes were...not only did having that job mean not having to leave Seattle, it also satisfied some higher-order emotional construct that equated working with adulthood and thus acceptance and thus self-worth.

I don't have nearly as much riding on this job at Nintendo. Partly, it's just a matter of experience. Partly, a stronger sense of myself. And, partly I think, it's the fact that I wasn't desperate this time round...

Happy thing:

I'm pleased to say that my love life has not yet exploded, shown signs of major instability, or taken away more from my emotional reserves than it contributes. This is good. I need things to be like this.

Long distance basically sucks. On the other hand, we do seem to make it work. My patience and ability to handle fear and uncertainty, and the possibility of pain, have recieved considerable support. I suppose it should be pointed out that this is still "new" by most reasonable definitions; Tricia and I have only been involved for a little over four months.

The earliest we are likely to get a chance to really have face-to-face contact is still over a year away by current reckoning. This makes the distance somewhat harder to bear, at times--we miss one another and know that will continue to be the case for some time. However, it also lends a sense of patience. We already intend to wait a while, and we are at least honest about the uncertainty inherent in such a far-off estimation.

Also, I am happy to note that Tess (Tricia's fiancee) and myself seem to get along rather well (and that this transfers to in-person contact). It has already been suggested that we might try to share a home collectively. If things work out with getting Trice here and arranging for her ability to legally find employment. If we can find a way to get all three of us in the same spot. If. If if if.

The wish seems to be there, for all of us. We are none of us in a good place to try bringing this into existence just now--each of us is tackling our own problems. But...speaking for myself, I want this. I love Tricia dearly, and Tess is someone I become ever-increasingly fond of the more we communicate. It isn't just a matter of being willing to share a home and a partner with her--I really want to see this unexpected and somewhat stressful arrangement stabilize into a functional family, of some kind.

That's...the wish, anyway. I'm still afraid of this all ending in tears, or discovering that it's bound to fail in some way I won't be able to see except in retrospect.

But...well, some situations are just like that. I am still sufficiently unsure of myself at times that I feel any relationship I could be in is categorically unhealthy--because, surely, such dysfunction is all that I know?

It's a bit glib, but this Mark Twain quote sums up my resolve:

We should be careful to get out of an experience only the wisdom that is in it - and stop there; lest we be like the cat that sits down on a hot stove lid. She will never sit on a hot stove lid again - and that is well; but also she will never sit down on a cold one anymore.

And then I remind myself of my mantra: don't overnalyze.