My Heart Was Stopped; I Cannot Be

Oh, what pic is it? The world will never know because I stupidly deleted it!

Ugh. (To myself.)

For the record, I loooooove twitter. I love it.

And I care waaay too much about what other people think (and sometimes what’s going on in other people’s lives).

(Also, how is it possible that I’ve had twitter for many months, yet I’m still learning how to use it? How big is the learning curve on this application, y’all?)

So, this is really silly and shows that I care far, far too much about social media. But one of the (many millions of) things I was excited about when it came to meeting Cory Booker was the inevitable tweet with, “Great meeting you,” or “Great picture,” along with a tweet to our photo  (after, of course, I tweeted it to him).

From an outsider’s perspective, it seems like he tweets back every single person who tweets him a picture of them together. Of course, realistically, I’m sure he doesn’t.

But I tweeted about a million tweets the weekend I met him (actually, I probably tweeted too much. Big mistake there). That, or you know, timing is everything on twitter. And I never seemed to get the timing right. I couldn’t upload his speech until the week started. Then by that time, Jason Collins was the only thing on my twitter feed. Suddenly this amazing Cory Booker speech wasn’t something I could tweet out.

… I dunno. So, I never got the timing right.

Then I was so insecure in “Why is he tweeting everyone else about how great their photo is and how great it was meeting them – but not tweeting me? Was it not great meeting me? Are we not totally bffs? These are some of the best pictures of me from my entire life! How do these not classify as great pictures?!” (She needily whined in her head.)

Well, today on my way to work, Cory Booker was re-tweeting a bunch of corny jokes people sent him.

Mine didn’t get re-tweeted, but I still thought they were good. (A neutron walks into a bar, orders a drink, and asks the bartender how much. The bartender says, “For you? No charge” (Hilarious, right?))

Anyway, I saw him again tweeting about “how great it was to meet people.”

So, I tried one last desperate attempt when he was on twitter and in a playful mood. I tweeted something stupid (and desperate) like, “I know this is really twitter needy, but I really wanted @CoryBooker to think we look awesome happy in this photo. Alas, hasn’t happened.”

This was the photo that was supposed to go with that tweet, by the way.

Then he did tweet me back. “Thanks for sharing this pic.”

Now, since it seems like everyone under the sun gets a “Great pic!” I didn’t even get an exclamation point…. I of course took that as a declaration that he did not necessarily think it was a great pic, and he was so over my tweets.

But then – other people started tweeting that the picture was cute and all those good compliment-type things. Yeah, Cory Booker! It is a great photo says all your people on twitter. Why don’t you think so?  (over-dramatically cries)

Then, I was judging myself so hard about the stupid, needy tweet I’d sent, that I deleted it – not realizing that the photo would go away as well! I’d thought that just as when you put something in front of someone else’s words to make the tweet your own, that tweet stays – even if the original tweet is deleted… that the photo would work the same way!

Well, it doesn’t. And I learned it the hard way. So, I super annoyed Cory Booker (he hates me now, doesn’t he?) to the point where he finally tweeted out the picture. Then, I accidentally deleted said picture. (And in this mess, I lost 3 followers. (Guh.))

Basically, complete twitter failure tonight.

Here are my takeaways to this story:

1) I don’t need to have every single thing anyone else has. Him tweeting other people about awesome meetings and photos doesn’t negate our awesome meeting and photos.

2) Don’t make any tweet you wouldn’t mind having on your timeline forever. (I mean, obviously I already knew no damaging tweets.) But, don’t waste a tweet on something stupid – especially if it involves a photo!

3) Don’t worry so much about what other people think – not whether Cory Booker thinks your photos are great – so much so that you annoy him ’til he tweets you…. not whether you’ll still have a twitter follower after you’ve sent such a lame tweet, so you delete a tweet to which freaking Cory Booker himself responded.

Sigh.

Picking up from yesterday -

When I saw my saxophone in the back of my closet, I thought, “What am I doing with this gorgeous instrument just sitting here in a place no one can even see it?”

I haven’t played in probably at least 3 years – maybe even longer. I definitely didn’t play during all the heart surgery stuff. (2010) (My sax was too heavy to carry to school in that state, so I didn’t take a lesson/any classes involving my saxophone that semester). And I don’t think I played at all after quitting school.

So, when I saw it, I thought about the poor saxophone not being played. (And I thought about the couple thousand dollars I should be able to get for it). And I thought, “I don’t think this makes any sense to keep this.”

So, I called my dad and left a message asking if he thought I should sell it.

And all these emotions weirdly came bubbling up!

I had some tears escaping my eyes. And I just thought, “what the heck is going on with me?”

I think it was a few different things.
1) I remembered how proud my dad had been. And in some weird way, it almost felt like if I sold the saxophone, I’d also be getting rid of his pride or support (even though I know that’s not true).

2) I’d always heard stories of people who’d been great in band (and even people who went to college for music) give up their instruments later. And I thought that sounded so insane that someone just completely abandoned something at which they worked incredibly hard.

3) Finally, I don’t have a ton of things that define me. But I try to keep ahold of the good things that do. And, being a good saxophone player was part of my identity. I didn’t think it’d be something I’d so easily let go.

So, the rational part of my brain wrestled with the irrational.

Rationally, I don’t like to keep things if I’m not going to use them or display them. It doesn’t make sense to me to keep a bunch of extra stuff lying around my life. It clutters up my space. It clutters up my brain.

I understand the idea of keeping something that you’re not sure if you want to use, to see if maybe you do. But I just kept on keeping this forever, knowing I never used it.

Irrationally, I was just a mess of emotions (as explained earlier).

I talked to my dad about it. He was so sweet, understanding, and rational. He was kind of of the mindset of, “Yes, I bought that saxophone, but do you have any idea how much stuff I’ve bought you in your life? You can’t possibly keep everything. I didn’t build it. You got out of it what you needed. You used it a lot. It brought you joy then. If you are sure you’re done playing it, then sell it and get money which you can use for something else to help bring you joy now.”

And he was right.

I told him I needed to wait just a while longer (which I feel like I’ve been saying for years now).

I got the saxophone out later that night. And even though when I just thought about the saxophone, the memories were vivid and it seemed like I couldn’t let it go – when I played it, it meant nothing.

I remembered that it’s not fun for me to play recreationally. I like to work really hard on music. I liked to prepare for concerts and compete for things (ratings, chairs, acceptance to bands, etc.). But I didn’t like to play just to play. I needed an end game, and I don’t have any of those anymore.

(Side note about playing: I did remember our little section song from high school marching band, so I was a bit amazed about that, and kind of found that cool.)

Once I actually played, I knew that I needed to sell it. I will never use it. I won’t display it. It’s a waste of space and money.

In the end, my uncle ended up buying it. He took up saxophone a few years ago and was ready to upgrade to a nicer model. He got a fair price, and I still got a chunk of change. Though, it wasn’t really about making money, so much as it was about keeping space in my life (not being bogged down by old stuff) and making sure that my saxophone actually gets played, ’cause it’s a shame to have such a lovely instrument sitting in a closet.

In the end, I think everybody won.