I am not interested in manifestos. I'm not going to write a long, elaborate explanation or apology. I feel like what I've said can speak for itself, and the rest--the lies about me having another job lined up, the misconception that I was fired, the endless declarations of my idiocy and ill-will--will have to stand on their own as well. When people Google my name and discover all these most recent insults and charges, I trust that they will consider the broader context of everything that happened, which will undoubtedly be an easier task from a spot way on down the road. Am I naive to think that? Probably.
I hold no grudges nor harbor any hard feelings. I don't have it in me to even address what just happened in my life as a "Left Eats Its Own," as it has been framed over and over again. I got caught up in the petty rat and tat of online political discussion, complete with barbs and low blows, but I am no longer able to do that. I just don't care anymore. It was never healthy. And it certainly doesn't matter.
Because of things like this I will never forsake my beloved internets. There are too many awe-inspiring, soul-stirring, mind-bending things to behold here on the tubes that I wouldn't tune out and miss it for the world. But I am no longer here to argue. I was never good at it anyway.
I went on vacation to visit the boyfriend's family in Chattanooga. We played Goony Golf, wherein I kicked the ass of all three of my skilled opponents. We also hit the batting cages, something I was soooo excited to do, something I hadn't done in years. Once inside and helmeted up, I proceeded to whiff over and over and over again. It was embarrassing. I could barely get the bat around in time. For someone who was talking big about how incredible it was going to feel to really "connect with the ball again," that was a sizable lesson in humility. That spawned my kittenish (ahem) behavior once we hit the go karts; I was a beaten woman. Still the ride was pretty sweet, and my ass didn't get wet like my companion's due to some drenched kid just before her. Small victories.
We went to visit Civil War battlefields with the boyfriend's sister's war buff boyfriend. Thanks to Battle for Chattanooga Museum I learned that I was sitting on a mountain once stained by the blood of tens of thousands of men, and just as many horses. There was this cheesy little diorama-like presentation with little red Christmas lights that lit up the out-of-scale mountain and ridges, and it was awesome. I forgot all about my web woes by putting it all in context, remembering that I am a speck of insignificance in this world and that any lingering anguish in all for naught. It was a delight and a relief.
I spent time with my pets and my boyfriend's family, who is very much like my family. I read books instead of blogs, and I slept in late and lounged outdoors in the sun in my pajamas. I saw true sadness--the slow loss of an aging parent, and my perspective was sharpened.
Today is the last day of my previously scheduled vacation. I feel the urge to dive into finding something else, but I am also compelled to take this time to just sit still and reflect. It is a powerful, but wonderful struggle. I feel wholly human again, something I haven't experienced for a while for a lot of complicated reasons.
I have emails to write and thank yous to give and a resume to perfect, but I am thankful for this time and the ability to sit and write this. I am blessed beyond all my comprehension.
UPDATE: Come to the Flying Saucer Thursday night! Buy me drinks! I will tell you all my secrets! It will be awesome! (Thanks, Katherine.)