Indecisions, Indecisions

I told you I'd try to write more frequently. Hah! And you didn't believe me (though, with good reason).

Here I am, sitting on the patio, composing this missive, drinking a glass of white wine, listening to Patsy Cline and Liz Phair, watching the cloudy night sky for a glimpse of a shooting star. Simply sublime.

I was IMing with a friend of mine today, and it was particularly memorable because he doesn't IM. Seriously, he isn't on Facebook, he doesn't Twitter, he would never blog like this. Hell, we all feel special when he e-mails us back.

So, color me surprised when he pings me today, partly in response to a very long, detailed, angsty e-mail I'd written him. And the contents of the conversation were quite disturbing. It was ... uh ... eye-opening, to say the least. Here's the gist:

Friend: And how do you feel about that?
Me: I don't know.
Friend: You seem to say that a lot lately.
Me: Hmm.

Later ...

Friend: Why don't you do something about it?
Me: I guess ... that's just not the kind of thing I do. That's not who I am.
Friend: Why not?
Me: I don't know.
Friend: Is that your answer for everything?
Me: Um ... I guess so

And even later ...

Friend: So, do you really not know, like you have no clue whatsoever? Or, do you really not want to find out?
Me: I liked it better when you didn't use the interwebs.

I have been saying "I don't know" too often of late. And I wish it were because I genuinely didn't have a clue; I'd rather be stupid than scared.

But this reminds me of a quote from 'Deadwood' (of course), when Alma Garrett is about to marry a man she doesn't love: "I am afraid. I am so afraid that my life is living me and that it will soon be over and that not a moment of it will be my own."

Oh, David Milch, I can't say it any better than that: My life is living me.

I just need to remember my motto for the year: Man up. Or as Al Swearengen would say, "Stand it like a man -- and give some back."

Amen.