Welcome to my new blog! Welcome to SFOkie.com I'll be posting much more now that I'm beginning a new adventure. This is the easiest way for everyone back in Oklahoma to keep up with the sitcom that's about to become my life.
Its ironic that from the most heartbreaking moment of of my life, the beginning of something greater was born. It's crazy how things change. Six months ago I would have said I would be planning a late summer wedding. I would have said we would live in Oklahoma and grow old here with our brood of adopted offspring. I would have been very wrong, and very naive. It was only five months ago that he left (most days it feels like 5 years). Some would say I went off the deep end. I would say I simply opened the flood gates of all I was holding back in the name of love. I'm about to live my dream, a dream that would never have been possible if I were tied to the most cautious and unadventurous of men.
Originally, when I made the overwhelming decision to make this move, I had planned to have the house sold by mid April and whether or not I had a job I'd be leaving in early May. Things never work according to plan. The house isn't sold and I already have a job. I leave April 16, and I'm nowhere near ready. I've found a fantastic place to live in a great location in San Francisco, just a few blocks from the ocean and Golden Gate Park. More importantly, I've found a great job that I'm super excited to dive into. It's a new area of expertise for me, but it will utilize the entirety of my skill set. I can't wait to see what happens. I'm stupefied at how fast this is happening. In just seven days days I'll be heading West toward my life's dream. It hardly feels real.
On May 3rd, 2003, I came to Oklahoma City with barely anything at all.If all goes well, I’ll be leaving almost 9 years to the day after I arrived in OKC.For those of you who don’t know, I’m about to embark on the greatest adventure of my life. I’ve always said that if I could live anywhere, I would live in San Francisco.So… I’m selling everything and moving to San Francisco.More on that later… In my last post, I said of 2012: “I hope that there will be an uptick in the intensity with which I live my life.” In all my years, the one thing I’ve never done is chase a dream, I spent a lot of time pining for the day that my dreams would come true. If you’ve known me for any length of time you’re probably thinking I’ve gone off the deep end.I want, simply, to enjoy my life.It’s time for me to do the opposite of sane, safe, and stable.My emotions vary from scared shitless to sadness. I’m scared that I’ll end up not finding a good job and having to live in the tenderloin, carrying pepper spray with me everywhere. I’m scared that I’ll get mugged, or have my phone stolen right out of my hands, I’m sad that I’m leaving behind a great job, my kitty cats, my handsome little Chuck Chuck, and some AMAZING people, some of whom I’m just getting to know. However, in spite of all of that, I’m excited.For once in my life I’m doing something not out of consideration for others, but for myself. I honestly believe that it’s what’s best for me.
Isn't it beautiful? Hills! Actual hills!
But,why San Francisco?If you’ve never been there, it may seem nuts.Most people seem to think it’s full of bums, transvestites, and it has constant earthquakes.That’s not entirely true.It does have those things, but the earthquakes aren’t constant, the bums are mostly confined to the sketchy parts of town, and the transvestites, well I don’t see where the drawback is.As a woman with abnormally GIANT feet, I’m super excited at the prospect of making friends with whom I might be able to share fabulous shoes.San Francisco is the second most densely populated city in the US (17,000+/sq. mile).Coming from Oklahoma City, one of the most spread out cities in America (density of less than 1,000/sq. mile), that’s going to be quite a change.I’m going from living in a modestly sized 2 bedroom house with a big yard that I have all to myself into either a rented room or a one room studio where I’ll have to fight for parking and listen to my neighbors have sex.If the city chews me up and spits me out, Oklahoma will always be here. I feel that, if nothing else, this adventure will grow me in ways I just can’t possibly fathom right now. I just long for a change in scenery, and that tight feeling in my chest that lets me know that I’m alive.I can’t wait to see where this leads me.I need an adventure, and more importantly, I need to leave behind the stagnancy I’ve found myself in.
The thing I’m most excited about is being closer to my Sister and her big dumb husband (I love you Tim!), my Mom and my niece and nephew who will be just a short 2 ½ hour drive away. The bonus to all of that is that THE Emma is just a few miles North of San Francisco in San Rafael.She’s a wonderful British transplant whom I met through NewBeetle.org.She’s been a wonderful encouragement and I’m so glad she’ll be nearby.I just hope she realizes how much I may rely on her in the beginning. Like, for example, when I can’t pay my rent after I haven’t found a job and I get arrested for prostitution trying to make ends meet.I just know that dear sweet Emma will be there to bail me out.
Looking back over the last few months since Ryan left, I’ve had a tremendous change in my ideals.Having experienced a loss that I honestly, very naively thought I would never have to experience, I realized something about myself. Having been faced with the failure of a relationship I had hoped would last a lifetime, I came to a difficult realization; I’m not entirely sure that marriage and family are what I want.For the first time in my life I’m okay with that.I’m not in a hurry to meet someone new, I don’t care if I ever do at this point.I know that will change. but for now, I’m perfectly content. That's a feeling I’ve never truly known, only something I feigned.
I’m hoping to leave May 5th, pending the sale of my house. As I’ve been doing my early preparations, I’ve discovered just how much crap one can accumulate in 9 years time.I’ve found boxes of stuff I haven’t touched in 2 years or more, clothes I haven’t worn in nearly as long, and bills dating back 5 years.It’s ridiculous.I’m excited to continue my love affair with this amazing city with a clean slate.No baggage, not so much “stuff”, just me, my dog, my car, and a dream in my heart. I hope I have a super sassy gay roommate.
What I’ve taken from 2011 is that regrets aren’t healthy. Some days I look at the past 14 years of my life that I spent as a bible believing Christian and I feel a deep sense of regret, as if I hadn’t lived my life to the fullest. Other days I’m thankful for those years because clearly, they made me who I am today. I’m reminded of a quote from, of all things, a religious text. The Urantia Book talks of the inevitabilities of life:
“Life isn’t fair. It’s beset by vicissitudes and by certain inevitabilities. The earth isn’t heaven, it’s an evolutionary world where we learn, gain wisdom, and progress as the result of accumulating experience. Consider the following: If courage, strength of character, is desirable then you must be reared in an environment which necessitates grappling with hardships and reacting to disappointments...”
Needless to say, the loss of one’s faith is a hardship and a disappointment. Although, I learned in the last year how I respond to things when I’m not weighed down by the impossible standards of my religion. I learned how I function in love. I learned how I function in love’s eventual end. I learned that I am strong, that I love this life for life itself. I take more joy in the pleasantries of my existence. As annoying as my dog can be at 6 AM, the rhythmic tapping of her claws on the hardwood and her excited pacing in anticipation of her impending feeding time no longer annoys me. Things like that remind me that I have made it through another night to see the dawn of a new day. That dawning of a new day is both figurative and literal. In my prior state of mind, my days were beleaguered with the near constant yearning for something more. It was a time of my life marked by the darkness of night. I longed not for a deeper relationship with god, but for physical affection, emotional intimacy, the love of another person that went beyond the shallow Sunday morning church chitchat and the banality of obligatory holiday family phone calls and empty prayers to an absent god.
In 2011, at 28 years old, I fell in love for the first time. It was everything I had hoped it would be. In spite of the ultimate end of that relationship, I took away from it good memories and a new knowledge of who I am, who I should be, and who I long to be. I learned that I had some growing to do, but I also learned that there are things about me I should never have the aspiration to change. I learned that my words get me in trouble. I learned who my real friends are. Most importantly, I learned to love every minute of life on this earth. In 2011 I experienced joy, pain, sadness, loss, and enlightenment.
I’ve found that most who don’t understand my worldview expect that I’m miserable. I’m not. 2011 has been the best year of my life so far in spite of certain setbacks. I know that from here things can only go up. I hope that the demise of my faith would help those who love me to see that I am all the better for having discarded the superstitious. Now that I realize this life is all I have, I reflect on the importance of each day, of each interaction. I realize that life is too short to fight about silly beliefs, so I’m learning to bite my tongue. I’m hoping that 2012 will be a year of reconciliation, a year of understanding, and a year of growth. I hope that there will be an uptick in the intensity with which I live my life. I’m reminded of the words of Christopher Hitchens, who was a prominent figure in the atheist community.
“The only position that leaves me with no cognitive dissonance is atheism. It is not a creed. Death is certain, replacing both the siren-song of Paradise and the dread of Hell. Life on this earth, with all its mystery and beauty and pain, is then to be lived far more intensely: we stumble and get up, we are sad, confident, insecure, feel loneliness and joy and love. There is nothing more; but I want nothing more.” – Christopher Hitchens (1949-2011)
Here’s to 2012. May it bring you peace, love and joy that is deeper, stronger, and a far greater satisfaction than can be found in the pages of any religious text.
So I haven't written anything in over a year. I figure it's been long enough that I can share my thoughts now. Last night I attended the Oklahoma Atheists monthly dinner at Hideaway Pizza. It's always a good time. It seems like every month I sit next to someone new and I'm part of a whole new conversation. I always learn something new, and I always have a good time. Last night I got to share the story of how I met my Dad. One of the guys in our group was in total disbelief at how my Dad handled the situation. It made me realize how fortunate I am that my Dad is who he is and how amazing our story is. So, for those who don't know the story, here goes...
In the spring of 2002 I was a freshman at the University of Central Oklahoma. I was majoring in Child Development (I know, right?). In my Contemporary American Families class we were required to do a family tree as part of our final project. I was a little more than nervous at the thought of how I'd fill mine out as half of it had always been blank. I approached my professor and explained to her that I was in the dark on who my father was, and who he had descended from for that matter. I'll never forget what she said to me next. "You have three options Ms. Brooks; you can leave it blank and fail this course, you can bullshit the whole thing, (I'll never know), or you can let this empower you to be an adult and find out the truth for yourself. It's your decision." I was dumbfounded. Part of me wanted to just make everything up and make an easy A, but part of me wanted to know the truth. I had long dreamed of my father being present at various milestones in my life. When I was a little girl I would lie in bed at night listening to my stepfather and my mother fighting and I would imagine that somewhere out there was this amazing, loving dad of mine. I fantasized about him being at my graduation, walking me down the aisle, all those TV like daddy/daughter moments I had grown up wishing I had. However, I was an adult now, I was supposed to be realistic. Later that day, I called my Mom and asked her who my father was. Dead silence was followed by a click. To me it was obviously an "I'll tell you when you're older" moment. I don't really remember how I felt at that point. I was used to my Mom's keen ability to avoid the truth by that point in my life, so I can't imagine I was anything more than disappointed, maybe mixed with a tinge of anger.
A few days went by without hearing a word from Mom. Then, in the mail I recieved an envelope with no return address. Inside was a piece of notebook paper with my dad's name, the last city he was known to live in, and what his occupation was. I cried as I stared at that paper. I wasn't sure what this was going to lead to. I was part joyful, part hopeful, and mostly full of dread. I laid that note out in front of my desk in my dormroom. I stared at it for a while, unsure of how to proceed. At the time, Yahoo had a people search function. I did a search for the name and city and I got back one hit. It had my Dad's name, his wife's name, an address, and a phone number. My friend Traci was in my dorm room that day studying with me. You have to understand my friend Traci. She was hilarious. She had these facial expressions that were something from a comedy. I called her dumbass Traci, she just called me dumbass. It was a mutually comedic friendship. Traci and I made jokes about my Mom and about what kind of person my Dad probably was. It was therapeutic, she helped me to lower my expectations and be realistic about my Dad. At that point, I had resolved not to call the number. Traci and I continued studying for a while. Then, suddenly, I found myself with phone in hand dialing the number of a complete stanger. I'll never forget the face dumbass Traci made when she heard me say "I'm looking for a James Magnus".
It was something like this:
That look was an epic "Holy fucking shit" moment. She was dumbfounded. I was dumbfounded. We sat there staring at each other like deer in the headlights as I continued my phone conversation with a total stranger.
Me: "I'm looking for James Magnus." Stranger: "This is Jim." Me: "Uhhhhhh, do you know a Nyoka McBride?" Stranger: "She's my ex wi..." Me: "YOUR EX WIFE?!?! You mean you guys were MARRIED!?!" Pause. So here's the funny thing about this moment. It was the first time in my life I realized I wasn't the result of a one night stand. This moment legitimized my existence in a way that I could never have imagined. For the first time in my life, I wasn't Nyoka's bastard kid.
Stranger: "What's this all about?" Me: "Well, Nyoka is my mother and she uh.... she says you're my father." Stranger: "................." Me: "................" Dumbass Traci: "................" Now here's the best part... My Dad had two options here. He could have been a complete and total asshole, or he could do what he did next.
Stranger: "Well, how old are you?" Me: "I'll be 19 in a couple weeks." Stranger: "Well that makes sense. We were married in March of 1982 and she left late that summer." Me: "Where have you been?" Stranger: "All over the world honey. All over the world." Now my Dad and I recall the conversation a bit differently, but either way he comes out looking like a saint. We talked for a bit, I spewed a ton of information about myself a la Micro Machines guy, and then I told him that I had to go, that I needed to figure out what to make of all this. He asked me to email him some pictures, so I did. This whole time, Dumbass Traci is sitting across from me with her eyes wide like saucers with a sucker dangling out of the corner of her mouth. She couldn't believe what was going down in front of her face.
After recieving said photos, my dad called me back. He told me there wasn't a chance in hell I wasn't his kid. Poor me, I look just like him. The best part about all of that is that 10 years later, my Dad is my best friend. I absolutely love him. He is the perfect example of a loving, accepting father. From day one it was as though he had been in my life all along. In 10 years I have found that every ounce of my personality comes from my Dad. I'm just like him. I think like him, I tell really lame jokes like him, I laugh like him. It's weird. It's amazing. It's nothing short of the TV fantasy I grew up wanting. I love that crazy bastard and I'm thankful for him every single day.
