Category Archives: Family

this title is so long it could be an old-school Fall Out Boy song

I’ve been meaning to write this post since last year, when I went through each and every post on my blog since 2020. My motivation was partly curiosity, vanity–to remove anything I don’t want any the Internet any longer–and practical–to free up space and remove dead links. During the process, I deleted about half of my 1200 posts, so I accomplished the latter two goals with ease. I left up some posts but changed some pretty cringeworthy internet lingo du jour.

As for my curiosity, I was pleasantly surprised. I was expecting mostly site updates–and there were plenty of those–and a lot of not-always-teenaged angst, depression, and anxiety. So much of my life felt so very dark for a long time. And while I saw some posts of that type, there were far fewer than I expected. Maybe I hadn’t written during some of those tough times. Perhaps my memory is clouded by my strong feelings and things were better than they felt.

At the very least, I was surprised by the sheer quantity of posts mentioning–or speaking to (Hi Ben!)–my friends. And so many of those people are still in my life. I was–and am–so very loved, and I feel incredibly grateful for that. I’ve known many of my close friends for over two decades, and I realize how uncommon this is and how lucky I am. I especially felt grateful after my divorce, when I returned home to so many open arms, even from those who rightfully had reasons to feel frustrated with me. I had a new lease of life and was the best version of Cole I ever had been, and I felt like my loved ones had stuck by me through the times when I was at my worst. Perhaps I was more redeemable than I had realized.

I had a similar feeling while going through my blog posts. As a person in my mid-thirties, I felt sympathy and compassion for the younger person who wrote those words, not (secondhand) embarrassment. It was a much-needed reminder during a difficult time in my life that I had value, so much that people have remained in my life for over 20 years. I wrote about parties with Ashley, who I recently shopped and hiked with, and road trips with Oli, who sends me a message about how much they miss me as soon as they return home to Minneapolis after a weekend together. I could write half a dozen of sentences like the two previous ones. Going through my blog posts was for me, I imagine, like pouring through old photo albums for some people.

Yet the exercise was bittersweet. For as many people who will be my lifelong ride-or-die friends, there were a seemingly equal number who were significant enough to write about at the time, were only blips on the radar of my life. Some people, mostly Internet friends, I struggle to remember at all. Multiple people have since passed.

And there is no way to go through 20 years of your own blog posts without seeing the evolution of the Internet and all its trends. My first blog was on Blogger, and I hand-coded my layouts, after all! It was an evolution to move to SSI, then PHP and WordPress, and the countless site update posts showed just how much I enjoyed the tasks and projects I created for myself along the way (and may be undertaking again…).

But the Internet isn’t what it once was and never will be again. Something, perhaps nameless, is long gone. I can–and do–lament with some of my friends, but I will miss the particular feelings of creation, potential, and community, among others, that I could only achieve at certain points in time. After all, going through my blog posts would be a wholly different endeavor in 20 years due to changes in quality and quantity. On the other hand, I’m likely experiencing something at this point in time–whether my life in general or as I type these words–over which I will feel nostalgia at some point in the future, so at least I have that to look forward to!

Funny how looking backward can make you look forward, too.

We all have to survive our parents, and I don’t mean outlive them. I’m talking about surviving our upbringing and the legacy that our parents leave us with. All too often we must figure out how to survive and thrive in spite of our parents rather than with the help of the skills and the love they provided us. We must learn to shake off the lessons we’ve learned about being reactive, irrational, short-sighted, selfish, and a poor communicator as if they were shackles, bonds that hold us tightly.

At some point, we all must experience a realization about our parents. We must come face-to-face with the fact that our parents are imperfect people and have done us damage despite their best intentions. We must reconcile our adoration and respect for the people who have sacrificed for so much of us with our anger, sadness, hurt, and sometimes resentment at the positions that they’ve put us in.

For some people, this realization comes easily and it’s merely a speed bump in the road of life, a soon-forgotten blip on the radar, a single sentence in one of many chapters in the story of their lives. It may be that their parents were simply better, that the hurts were smaller, or that those people are somehow more resilient than others, but this particular struggle is brief and leaves them relatively unscathed.

For others, this lesson doesn’t come easily, but it is timely enough that the damage has not yet had time to become irreparable, to sink its claws and teeth into our flesh and our hearts and to irrevocably alter our lives and permanently cement us in our misery, our childish responses, and our never-ending cycles of self-sabotage. We sigh a breath of relief because we’re finally able to shrug off a mantle heavy with resentment, confusion, and parental missteps. They have the rest of their lives to look forward to now that their eyes have been opened.

There is yet another group of people, those who are unable to escape that tangled web, either easily or easily. Some of them live nearly their entire lives, if not the entirety of their existence,  without coming to the realization that there are lessons taught and beliefs shared and handicaps created under the tutelage of their parents that are holding them back. They may maintain unhealthy albeit close relationships with those parents, never having acquired the perspective necessary to view life about this bubble, perspective that often requires time and distance to glean.

This group, then, is one that often perpetuates the same mistakes with their own children. Sometimes foibles made as parents become exponentially more damaging, a cycle so pervasive that it can only be considered a family’s legacy. It takes a certain awareness and willpower to grow beyond the garden that sprouted us.

It should come as no surprise that I am one of the second group. My battle to become more aware,  both with myself and if the environment in which I was raised, is one that I consider hard won. My ability to be a rational human being, a good communicator, view the bigger picture, and to put myself in others’ shoes are all direct results of the adversity that I faced and because of where I came from. I could not overstate how much I value these lessons nor would I want to seem ungrateful. But pain, even pain that ushers in progress, is still a hardship. Nevertheless, those growing pains will fade as I age and continue to grow because I was fortunate enough to experience them early on.

On the other hand, my mother appears to be a member of that third group. In some ways, she seems stilted, not entirely a grown and respectable adult who can operate within the confines of a civilized society. I am sometimes amazed that I am her daughter, that she could be my mother. I find myself overcome with bewilderment when I try to isolate the factors that allowed me to overcome those hurdles, to solve the equation that is my success. As confused as I may be, I am equally as proud of my ability to flourish having lived a life that might have just as easily snuffed out my light, no thanks to parenting that I received.

I just hope my sister can survive her parents, too.

I meant to post about my trip to California, which happened in April, but seeing how it’s been over a month since I posted anything here at all, we can just agree that I’m not. It’s been too long for me to write about it in-depth, at least to me, but I will give you the rundown on what I’ve been doing.

April

So, yes, I went to California in April. I began tossing the idea around in my head in the beginning of the year but put it off due to money and nerves. Finally, I picked a date and booked myself a train ticket and flight. I decided to take the train from Chicago to California (after hopping a bus from here to Milwaukee and another train to Chi-town) to simultaneously save money and see the country. So.. I did that.

It was a long train but interesting. I saw a bit of the country – not all of which was worth seeing. Some of it was gorgeous and interesting, but restlessness prevented me from enjoying parts of the trip (I’m talking to you, Utah). I was super nervous because I’d never been on an American train before, but I survived and learned a bit about train culture, namely that there is a demographic of people (retired, limited income, wants to travel, has nothing better to do) that just loves trains in a way that I think I can’t.

My trip to Cali was short, shorter than I should have planned it and made even shorter by my purchasing a ticket from the wrong airport. All was okay, though. I saw the beach, took walks, enjoyed good food, bonded with my aunt, her husband and cat, saw the tech museum, visited rose gardens and the Egyptian museum, hacked 400+ new portals in Ingress and caught a new Pokemon. Not a bad little trip.

I flew into Minneapolis, spent the night with a friend and took the bus back after one long week.

May

I was super excited to see Guardians of the Galaxy 2 last month and, well, it was okay. Just okay, you know? Not terrible but certainly not worth the time I waited, and that’s a shame. I saw the original three times, but the sequel just didn’t hit all the right spots.

I took a day trip to see a sculpture garden, shop and attend a cultural fest in the next town over, which was quite enjoyable.

Last month, one of my very good friends also got married. I was in the wedding, which was cold and hectic, but I wish them all the best. In April, my friend was finally able to move in with his fiancee, so I’ve had to adjust with not having him around. This has been, at times, quite the struggles.

I also struggled to walk as many miles per day as I wanted to last month.

Before the month wrapped up, I finally got myself to see the MC Escher exhibit at the art museum, and it was better than I could have anticipated!

The end of last month also marked my 31st and golden birthday. I wanted to do something different.. so I did nothing at all. I released myself from expectations and had an interesting day with friends, cupcakes and lots of sun. It was fun and low-pressure if not entirely memorable. But it certainly was different. Go me.

June

This month started impatiently. First, I was walking my ass off to level in Ingress. I am now 14 but probably won’t level for the rest of the year. Boo.

I was also awaiting the second weekend, which I had dubbed Wonder Woman Weekend. Robyn and I headed to Minneapolis (I’ll return next month to see Adam Lambert and Queen in concert) to stay with Wendy with plans to see the Pixar exhibit at the science museum, visit the zoo and see Wonder Woman. I didn’t see it opening weekend because I was waiting for this, so there was alot of expectation.

Wonder Woman was great, the zoo was nice and the museum was interesting, but it was hot. I didn’t get enough rest and returned home pretty grumpy. I also had a very busy work week last week that technically ended yesterday morning, so I am feeling little swamped.

Right before I left, I tackled making some galaxy bottles for decor. They looked amazing in the beginning but have since muddled. I think I know how to fix it, but it’s a bummer.

Throughout all of this, I’ve done the norm – walked all the miles, entertained a guest a time or two, read all the books (I’m over 52 titles on GoodReads if you count comics and audiobooks!) and comics (I’ve read my first ever Marvel titled in 2017), went out to eat, attended a few game nights, fires and birthdays parties and (binge?) watched plenty of Netflix. Judging from the length of this post, I’ve been a busy little bee. Perhaps I should add relaxing to my calendar!

I feel so busy lately. Not in the I-have-to-work-13-hour-days way because I actually have a slow two weeks due to my main client taking some time off himself. No, I am busy in the my-social-calendar-is-full-and-I-have-no-time-to-just-veg-out with a side of social-interactions-drain-me-because-I’m-an-extrovert. I’m sure that scales terribly if you’re reading on a mobile device. ;)

So I am fortunate, no doubt, to have the time and money to do things with friends and family and to have a fairly long list of people who seem to want to spend that time with me. Don’t get me wrong about that.

It just all seems to exhausting.

This last week has been full of  ice cream (twice), walks (many times), shopping, going out for drinks, video games and more meals eaten out than is probably healthy.

There has been little time to just stop for myself to watch TV, read a book or play video games in the mindless way that is sometimes necessary to relax entirely.

I’ve had good food, laughs, inside jokes, marbles found and re-hid again, video games played, much exercise (with new shoes!) and a generally good time all together, but it leaves little time to relax by myself let alone to sleep.

So I declined a day trip tomorrow because not only will my schedule not work with it, but I just want to spend some time by and with myself. Especially while it’s been so generally warm and humid, and my apartment doesn’t have good air circulation.

When trying to describe how busy I feel to others, they don’t get it because I’m not talking about work. I’m not talking about things that are necessary, I suppose. They’re social. They’re fun, sure. And I don’t have to say “Yes,” but I do feel as though I should do as much as I can while I can. Because who knows when that will change?

In the mean time, the 4th of July is quickly approaching, which means a trip back to Minneapolis, Orange is the New Black has been released and I’ve yet to get a tattoo. I better get busy!

At first glance, I am so unlike my mom. She is more rough around the edges and simple in many ways. She’s not only driven by emotions — she’s fueled by them. I try to use logic to make better decisions and communicate more effectively. I’m a complex person, even though I’ve come to understand that I can be simpler than I ever thought and that maybe being complex isn’t bad.

I care more about appearances and presentation. I take more care with my looks and the words I choose. I am better, overall, at language and communicating effectively. I also have deeper understanding of the interactions people between and how things work, especially when it comes ot technology.

But when you compare us, you’ll see likenesses. We say some things in similar ways. It’s a tonal thing; although, we do use some of the same turns of phrase. There’s another similarity that I’ve been thinking about lately, too.

Both my mom and I come off as the type of people who won’t stand for anyone’s crap. In reality, we both shy away from confrontation more than you expect. I think this surprised people. No one is super comfortable with confrontation, and the way

I “avoid” confrontation by attempting to deal with issues in a forward and logical way. Thanks to marriage counseling, I’m much better at arguing in a constructive manner than, well, many people. So confrontation becomes less about fighting and more about understanding, thus making it less anxiety-causing to begin with.

Mom, on the other hand… Well, she’s not so good with the communication. If she’s frustrated with you or you’ve hurt her, she’s more likely to tell other people. This only increases her frustration and multiplies the drama. Of course, the original issue remains unresolved.

There is a common thread, I think, between the two of us. There’s a sort of fear about dealing with other people, I think, and not being able to express ourselves or appearing foolish. While Mom takes the angry route, I try to aim for the higher road — to understand why people do things, to forgive them and to be the bigger person as much as possible.

I’m generally more at ease and content with this aspect of my life because of this, and it’s something I wish she was more self-aware about because then she could be, too.

Still, I’m not so good at dealing with certain people. Usually it’s because the way they argue triggers a more emotional response to me. Some of my friends fight in a way that reminds me of my ex, and I respond in kind. It’s not so pretty.

I’m also afraid of pushing some people away with confrontation. While I realize that I have good intentions and anyone who should know this but runs away maybe isn’t the sort of force I need in my life to begin with, it’s hard because sometimes I wind up caring about those types of people.

Ultimately, I would rather err on this side. But there is still progress to be made. I think I can be understanding of others without selling myself short. I can — and should — be able to explain myself in a reasonable manner and should expect others to react in kind as much as possible. Realistically, I know we are fallible humans, but I should be able to confront people when it’s called for and be prepared to lose people who aren’t as rational as I am.

But I’ll probably avoid that change for a while. ;)