I have often spoken of cycles in my life, more in relation to friendships than the bigger picture, though. I’m going to continue to run the topic of my changed life outlook in to the ground. Since feeling like I’ve discovered myself and my key to inner happiness and sharing it here, my readership has dropped from maybe five regulars to two. All I can take from that is that people are too freaked out by a positive Mindy that they can’t bring themselves to read about it. And I see that as a good thing because it confirms there has been a change. Always having had a limited readership, it’s safe to say this place is more for me than anything.

Back to the topic at hand—cycles. Themes in my life have been revealing themselves over the past couple weeks. I had my era of Emerson and inner soul searching, which consisted of solo lunch dining, long walks, and as much time home as possible. This week I’ve traded in Emerson for another book that has been gathering dust on my shelf: Sy Montgomery’s The Good Good Pig. I got it from the free bin at NPR when I was in DC a couple years ago. Some people may know that pigs are an animal I hold dearly, for no particular religious reasons but out of plain and simple admiration. And so, this book caught my attention. I’m less than 100 pages in, and I will admit that I try to conceal the book cover on the bus out of a bit of embarrassment. Nevertheless, I’m thoroughly enjoying it. For one, it’s a pleasant escape to some easier reading, and also, several of the sentiments expressed bring a reminiscent smile to my face. Of course, people love things that make them smile. The story is about two freelance writers in rural PA who find themselves adopting a runt pig to raise. It’s a true story, which adds all that much more charm. With every page, I find myself falling more in love with the leading man, Christopher Hogwood, the dear little adopted piglet.

I suppose this book is my escape back to a childhood that seems more and more distant everyday. There’s a sheriff who keeps apples in his cruiser for leading Chris home to the farm when he comes across him exploring. I savor stories about nice people (because they also make me smile). As I’ve said before, there are days here where I begin to feel overwhelmed by the rudeness of people I encounter. There is a woman in the office who brings my spirits down 10 points just by being there. I’ve never heard someone speak down to people on the phone as much as she. I can’t decide whether she’s aware of how she sounds, because if not, I feel it may be my duty to let her know. I’d feel guilty for weeks if I spoke to people as she does. But I suppose, that’s part of my bigger problem, trying to make people make sense. In my mind, we should all be able to have that realization of how our actions impact those around us and create the positive/negative tone for our entire world. The jocks at my dad’s HS probably don’t know that their teasing caused my family hardships so many years later. Everything you do and say marks someone else in a way. I wish we could all realize the extent of that mark earlier in life.

I’m drifting. Themes. So I’m reading this book, The Good Good Pig, and I’ve noticed changes. I still dine alone but I say hello to other people in the kitchen. I say thank you to the driver when I depart the bus. I eavesdrop on old people and smile at their conversations. I make hearty meals and feel like I’ve discovered apple crisp for the first time. Being outside is a distinct pleasure, not just a means of traveling from one place to another. Someone left some CDs for the taking in the office kitchen. One was Country’s 20 Classic Songs of the Century. I listened to it as soon as I got home, and it was just lovely. It just seemed such an unlikely item to find its way in to a SF agency, but was a perfect fit with my smalltown theme for the week. I laughed out loud at the absurdity of listening to the lyrics of Okie from Muskogee, while living in SF. Also, I’ve been much more social in the office, treating Monday mornings like a trip to the local coffee shop, catching up on everyone’s lives. I had my first rushed deadline yesterday, and I loved the adrenaline rush. And I loved sort of feeling like I knew what I was doing. My work neighbors put together a lunch outing on Thursday as a sort of parting social event, since we shall arrive Monday to new desks in different spots around the office. I enjoyed that since of camaraderie. My favorite moment, though, was yesterday. We were packing up our belongings, when the guy next to me pointed out the post in the middle of our area. I had never noticed but it was marked with the heights of others who had worked in that area, so we each lined up and left our mark as well. We did the same way in the doorway between the kitchen and back porch in the house where I grew up. I had completely forgotten about it, but standing there, marking my height on a post, all those feelings of excitement of “growing up” came flooding back. It was a beautiful moment.

And last night was spindig. Most of us had left work early due to the move. I walked halfway home along Embarcadero, before catching a bus for the last leg, to give me time to tackle some project tweaks I needed to do. I caught the bus to Butter at nearly 7:30pm and it was packed. There were lots of old people by me. I’m not sure what event was going on but they were all headed the same way. One man sat next to me with a green blazer, cane, and a beautiful hat with a plaid ribbon trim. Seeing him made me happy. And the bus driver, he wasn’t old, but he was lovely. MUNI has some great employees. He remembered to shout out spots for several different groups, and as one lady started to depart the bus, he kindly said “Mam, I believe you need the next stop.” which launched a 1-block conversation about SF weather. He kindly entertained her ranting, and I really appreciated it. He was still behind the wheel when I left spindig later that night and that made for a lovely cap on the evening ride.

There were hardly any people I knew when I arrived to spindig. It worked out well, though. I think I managed to talk to about every co-worker who showed up, a few of them that I had never met before. It was a lovely evening. Ryan P. was spinning, and I won’t lie, he’s my favorite. The night definitely dropped off after he and Stef handed off the turntables. I had a really nice time and did well at walking away from conversations when they lost my interest. I had my 2 After School Specials (my monthly allowance), and enjoyed the rest of the night without a drink. I just feel so much better the next morning, and it has nothing to do with hangovers. I’m just better able to enjoy the company of people and avoid drama. I feel I leave with my self-dignity. I know I don’t need a drink in my hand to have a nice time, and so I don’t want to let other people make me feel like I do. It just helps me hold on to a little something that keeps me from getting depressed. I had no ties last night, though. I arrived when I wanted, talked to whomever I wanted, and left when I pleased. As much as I appreciate a social companion at times, I do enjoy the freedom of having only myself to worry about.

After having some social time last night, I’m perfectly content enjoying today all by myself. I’m appreciating some time to relax in anticipation of the coming week, which is certain to be non-stop. Tomorrow I’m having Sunday brunch with Paige & Hal (yay!) and then hopefully checking out Sex in the City. I’m finding a whole new appreciation for going to movies by myself.

I was really hoping to do some writing today, but my post-lunch fatigue is setting in. My sleep has been restless for the last week, but I’m doing my best to stay on top of it. My first company picnic is next week, as well as Outside Lands, which means my first Radiohead show as well. I’m really excited. I think I’m going to the festival by myself, and I’m not 100% sure what I’m getting in to but it seems likely I may meet some new people at the shows. Good times.

August, I love you. You shall go down in history as one of the best months in my life. Keep it up.