Collector

When I wrote this little post the other night, I didn't notice it at the time, but at least three of these items are related.

1) MathMan jokes that I collect people.
2) My boss tells me that he thinks things happen for a reason.
3) A friend asks me to listen to a song.
4) An old connection reconnects.
5) The Dancer narrows down her decisions.
6) A friend struggles.
7) I have emails I want to answer.
8) I see an old house about to be demolished and it reminds me of something odd.
9) A grey cat just wants to snuggle.

Actually, MathMan corrected me when he read this post. "I wasn't joking," he informed me. I knew that, of course, but it seems like such a funny thing to say. And when he says things like that, I'm unsure of the underlying meaning. Is he saying, "Damn, woman, do you really need all these people in your life?" or is he just pointing out that for someone who doesn't like a lot of material things cluttering up her life, I seem to need to have a lot of human connections.

He's right. I do. Well, actually, I should clarify that statement. I like having a lot of arm's length connections. I do great okay with having friends in the virtual world, but in "real" life, I'm not good about keeping up connections. I lose friends - not intentionally - but because it would just about kill me to make an effort to make plans and actually do something with them. I'm not one to initiate contact much because I'm always worried that I'm bothering someone. And because making and keeping dates would require commitment. Anyone who's read this blog for any length of time knows that I have commitment issues.

So how does that tie in with collecting people? Well, recently I started using Facebook thinking that it would be a good way to stay in touch with The Dancer when she goes to college next fall. The funny thing is, though, that I've also connected there with my blogpals, a local friend, a couple of high school acquaintances, some family members, one of MathMan's colleagues, the guy who introduced MathMan and me, some former coworkers and an old boyfriend. (sharp intake of breath, how could she?) Oh, she could. Relax. He lives halfway around the world from here.

So there is the connection between #1 and #4 above. I collect people (according to MathMan) and so it is a natural reflex that I would want to reconnnect with someone from my past.

Last night I was in our closet and I happened to notice that some cat or some kid had knocked askew a box of old notebooks and journals that sat on the shelf. As I was straightening out the box to put it back on the shelf, I adjusted the box's flaps and saw that an old journal that was given to me by that very same old boyfriend in 1985 was lying on top of the other journals. I fished it out and flipped through it, alternately cringing and laughing at the passages written by my twenty year old self. Ishkabibble, it was painful to read a couple of entries.

So I guess my boss is right (see #2 above), things happen for a reason. The timing of me finding that journal again may fit into that pattern. I was trying to remember a small detail from that period of time and bang! there's my answer. I had actually captured it in that journal.

Now when my boss told me that he thinks things happen for a reason, he was actually referring to the winding path I took to end up working for with him. (He doesn't like for me to say I work for him.) See - when MathMan and I first moved to Georgia, my boss J and I were directors of competing associations. We were friendly competitors. Then he left his organization and we lost touch. We shared one good friend who kept us informed nominally about the other, but that was it. After I came back from the New York debacle to find work in Georgia, I responded to a blind ad only to receive an immediate response from my now boss J who was shocked to find out I was looking for a job.

On Tuesday, J and were discussing my old job. J mentioned that he'd counseled me a couple of years ago to leave that job because my board of directors was driving me crazy.

"Yeah, I really should have followed your advice back them," I answered.

"No, see, because then you might not be working here now," J said. "Not to be selfish or anything, and I'm really sorry about some of the things that happened, but I think it all happened so we could finally work together."

He stopped there because he's self-conscious about talking religion and divine intervention with me. He doesn't want me to feel like he's trying to convert me. I laughed and told him it's okay. Heck, one of my favorite movies is Signs with Mel Gibson. And it's primary theme is "things happen for a reason."

Even so, it's nice to be appreciated. And, in a way, I guess I've collected J, too.