Eve of Destruction

I just realized that I spend alot of time looking forward or backward in time increments.  Like, for example, counting down by ten minutes the time I have left in class, or by half hours the time I have left at work.  Last year, I counted how many weekends I had to survive between trips home.  And today, I remembered exactly what I was doing one year ago today.  I was going home.  I woke up, had my last Starbucks of the year, walked to the on-campus convenience store one last time, and then headed back to my dorm to play Mahjong and listen to music until my parents arrived.  I ended up packing and moving out at the same time as my ex-roommate, but I don’t remember saying goodbye to her.  I remember eating Wendy’s with my parents, and I remember driving home and having an immediate sense of calming down.  Things could finally settle back into place.  Like freshman year had been a hiccup in the space-time continuum and now my life could go back to the way it was always supposed to be.  I made no forward progress.  It was a lateral, a failed attempt at moving down the field.

And now I’m facing down the end of my second year here and…… all of that, the bad memories, the desperation and unhappiness, everrything has been washed away like dried dirt after a muddy game.  That girl of one year ago today is so foreign to me.  When I see people I knew last year, I’m me, not the girl they knew last year.  I wonder if they’re confused.  I use phrases and mannerisms learned from being around my best friends here, I laugh and question and react un-self-consciously, I talk more and differently.  I keep using the same adjective over and over again to describe how I feel, because sometimes it just overwhelms me; I’m just so lucky.  I’m right now sitting in the same chair I was curled up and crying into back in September, when I was terrified that I was once again making futile laterals in an attempt to get my life going.  The beginning of this year was the scariest thing I’ve ever experienced, even moreso than the beginning of freshman year.  Freshman year, I was full of naive hope, completely unaware of how lonely things could get.  Coming  back this year, that’s all I could think about.  Knowing the negative possibilities is wayyyyyyy worse than blindly seeing only the positive possibilities.  However, luckily, I landed with a marvelous roommate, wonderful next-door and across-the-hall neighbors, and generally terrific floormates.  I morphed into a better form of me.  It’s stunning to me still; I’m not quite convinced that freshman year wasn’t just a bad movie I saw, or a three-week camp that went sour.  I can’t believe it was a year, an actual, whole 8-month school year, of my life. 

And now I’m counting in another increment: a week and a day.  That’s how much time I have left here, and it is, once again, scary as hell.  Because this year the sun rose, and I was living mostly in the light of day, but what if I leave this place and come back after almost four months and things have gone dark again?I know atleast that I will have anchors; the friends I have made here will still be here, we’ll just be more spread out, and we’ll have to work a little harder.  And hopefully there will be some wondeful new kids next year, not just nasty slutty people who smell overly-fragrant and puke in the hallways.  I’ve had my share of them.  So, after I live through this next round of time, this weekd and a day, I’ll be counting down again: just a little less than four months.  And then, I come back home.

Trip Around The Sun, Part Two

Aaaaaaaaaaaand, apparently I have so much to say about last year that I ran out of room in one entry!  There’s a reason my father nicknamed me Gabriella von Flappingtongue when I was little.  So.  Here’s the second half of my year, in riveting detail:

July….man, the summer months run together in my head a little.  July brought my best friend to town unexpectedly, so you know it was good.  Honestly, most of the things I remember from June and July are things I already wrote about on here, which cemented them in my brain, so it feels kind of cheap to keep this up.  So let’s move onto August.  The Olympics happened, and I was in Florida with two of my sisters and several cats.  I spent my days at the beach, then reading, showering, napping, and snacking in various combinations, and my evenings out to dinner and then in my sister’s apartment watching the Olympics with some of the people I love most in the whole world.  It was pretty perfect.  It was exactly what vacation should feel like, that feeling of wet beachy hair and old armchair comfort while you just sit and listen to the people around you talk because you’re too golden to function at the moment.  In sad news, August brought the death of the best car known to man, and this death is on my hands.  I have still not dealt with it fully.  I miss that car so hard, all the time.  She was so… so stalwart.  And if I hadn’t totaled her, I know she would’ve stuck with me for at least the next three years.  I’m sorry I’m so serious about my car; I’m not sure how it happened, but I am sure I can’t stop.

August also brought my return here, to BG.  I was so panicked.  And then things turned out okay.  I don’t know how else to say it, because it really was that simple.  The world did not end, it only got better, and I know I am really one lucky bitch.  September flew by.  Really.  My sister got married and looked good doing it.  I got to see the Florida sister for the second time in as many months, which is so rare and so happy-making.  I threw up in the bushes outside of my house one night after a taxi ride home in which my driver may have popped some pills while stopped at a red light.  Incidentally, this was the night before the wedding.  Funny how these things happen!  I feel like mostly in September I just got to hang out with a bunch of cool people and get to know them better.  Did you know that I’m also at school?  You wouldn’t, from the way I would describe my September.  There’s nothing of note school-wise that happened in September, and that’s weird to me.  Anyways, September also brought a job that sort of tumbled into my lap, as all the jobs that I have ever had have.  Again, I am one lucky bitch.  October brought glorious fall weather.  It started to get cool and breezy and the leaves changed and it was gorgeous.  I love the change of seasons, so I was in bliss.  I think that in October I began to find every single boy around me attractive; there’s a lot of eye candy around here, man, and in October I took full advantage of it.  October also brought four migraines in eight days, so therefore, there was one week where basically all I did was go to bed early and lie around moaning and feeling nauseous.  But!  I also went to the doctor and got these magic pills that melt under your tongue and get rid of your headache.  I have never experienced anything that did that ever before, ever, besides an hour-and-a-half nap, and I have literally had migraines for my entire life.  Thank GOD for October, then.  I feel like October was more of the same socially, but that is the furthest thing from bad, because for once in my life “the same socially” is not crying and constantly worrying about what others think of me and wondering if I’ll ever have friends and if I’ll ever fit in and stop wanting to go home and why does nobody like meeeeeee?  Yeah.  No more of that.  As the clock changed from October to November, I cast my vote for change while listening to “Charlemagne in Sweatpants”.  And four days later, surrounded by the people that have been my saving grace this fall, I watched him give his acceptance speech and held back tears.  It was breathtaking.  I remember when the family walked onstage, smiling and waving to the adoring crowds, I freakin’ squealed with glee, “Awww, look how great they are!”  It was one of my favorite nights of the year.

I’m sorry, I know that this second part is sort of a copout on month-describing, but November too feels like it went by really fast.  I went to classes, had lazy weekends, ate lots of bacon, spent a disgusting amount of time dicking around on the internet, probably drank some beer, got new brown boots, ate turkey, called people and asked them for money.  You know.  Same old, same old.  December was a weird, patchwork month, because half was spent at school and half was spent here at home.  Exams were gross, but I attended a silent dance party (glowsticks included!) and ate Mexican food, and spent many a night staying up talking to and laughing with my adorable roommate.  And packing up to go home, I was actually sad.  I had people I loved and would miss over the next three and a half weeks, and I had trouble leaving them for home.  That was a new feeling.  And then I came home and was absolutely engulfed by family time.  I don’t see my sisters enough, but over break I got to spend a LOT of time with them, and I’m glad that happened.  There wasn’t a whole lot of time with friends because of all of the aforementioned family time, but there was just enough for me to be happy, and I know there’ll be some more here in the next few days, so it’s all good.

Aaaaaaand, that was my year.  The first four months? I’d like to keep the tags on and return ‘em, please.  But the last eight were amazing, better than I ever expected, and now I think 2009 will be absolutely magical, so anything less than the absolute best simply will not do.  Even though two hours into 2009 saw me vigorously scrubbing at carpet to get out the vomit stains, I still have high hopes for the next twelve months.  I’m wishing on an eyelash I won’t be disappointed.

Constructive Summer

This summer…. man, how can I even begin to explain this summer?  This summer was probably the best one of my life so far.  This summer was a respite, first and foremost, from the awful.  This summer was everything I needed and had been looking forward to from August to May.  I’d have to say this summer really delivered.  This summer brought the arrival of a beautiful new baby boy into the life of a not-so-close-anymore friend.  This summer saw the realization of a lifelong dream, and it was better than I ever ever ever could have imagined.  This summer I walked down Fifth Avenue, ate lunch in Central Park, drank in a cramped Manhattan apartment with one of the most interesting people I’ve ever met, hailed my first taxi, and had a magical moment on the Brooklyn Bridge.  This summer another dream was reaffirmed.  This summer was work, almost daily sometimes, mostly with people I love and adore and miss to death right now.  This summer was constantly being with my three best friends, whom my heart hurts thinking about sometimes, because the three of them are together and I am here.  This summer I met some interesting characters.  This summer was driving, driving, driving, and loving every minute of it.  I miss that.  This summer was a mini-roadtrip by myself, just me and the open road, to visit someone I loved.  This summer was freedom and money.  This summer was spent partially sleeping on my best friend’s hardwood floor.  This summer was my first shot in a bar, so this summer was sort of illegal.  This summer was the burning of some significant things, things that still cross my mind from time to time.  This summer I cleaned, I cooked, I read not nearly as much as I told myself I would, I stayed up late, I drank, I saw and spent time with everyone I loved.  This summer there was a boy, just as there has always been a boy, but this summer the boy-crush turned out to be a little more lasting and intense than I expected.  Shit.  This summer involved discovering lots of new music at my new favorite music store.  This summer was The Hold Steady, The Hold Steady, The Hold Steady, The Hold Steady.   This summer I totally jinxed myself.  This summer was late night decorating for one of the most wonderful people I know.  This summer was drunken camping and lots of girl talk.  This summer was a mystery knock at the door and the best surprise I’ve ever gotten.  This summer brought the death of a kid that I didn’t even know, yet still brought me to tears during an absolutely bereft moment late one night.  This summer was a walk in the rain.  This summer was worrying about a friend who sometimes seems to be changing too fast for me to keep up with, so this summer was kind of anxious and sad.  This summer was terror at the thought of August, which means this summer was ignoring the fact that August 24th even existed.  This summer was the Olympics, and the Rinehart Olympics.  This summer took me to Florida for some quality sister time, and one relaxing, perfect week with people who share the same ideas about vacation as I do.  This summer was my first flight, but for a very good reason.  This summer was some damn crying into my ice cream in the middle of a Florida street, so don’t think this summer was not occasionally embarassing.  This summer I think I must have met more people who intrigued me or made me laugh or fleetingly crush than any other time in my life.  And finally, this summer literally ended with a bang.

I can’t wait til May.

Purging

Hello!  I have adult bookshelves!  That’s not as dirty as it sounds, promise.  It just means that in my new fit of cleaning my room that’s happening this summer, I finally managed to clean off my bookshelves and store books that I haven’t cracked open in, oh, a good seven years or so.  Now my shelves are filled with things like my Shakespeare anthology, Jane Eyre, Dubliners, Atonement and other books for…adults, I guess?  My God, am I really an adult?  That doesn’t feel right.  I totally still feel 12, like all the time.  That’s why I kept Betsy-Tacy, Daisy Fay and the Miracle Man, and A Series of Unfortunate Events up on the bookcase.  Fun for all ages!  Right next to Crime and Punishment and Ethan Frome!  And hell, if Invisible fucking Man is going to get a spot on my bookshelves, you can damn well be sure that Caddie Woodlawn will too, seeing as how I spent way more time enjoying that than I ever did some Ralph Ellison shit.

Going through all my old books was still very fun, though.  I hadn’t cleaned off the shelves since the first time they were put up which was about, uh, four years ago?  And apparently at the time when I was a sophomore in high school, I still had the heart and soul of an eight year old, because there was shit up there like Amelia’s Notebook, all of the I Spy books, and some American Girl series.  As well as some books I had never read: Heart of a Dog, anyone?  Prehaps some Black Beauty?  Well, at least they’re all stored away in my closet with my books from when I was in kindergarten. 

And, as if all this trip down memory lane weren’t already enough, just as I was finishing up, “Stop This Train” came on and I seriously got all teary eyed, like “Yeah!  Stop!  Jesus!”  But this is basically how I feel every other day of my life, so I just rode it out and went on with my life.

In Retrospect

Oh, so, hi!  It’s been a while, no?  I haven’t felt like writing since I got home from school because some part of me felt like the next post needed to be some sort of reflection on my first year or how I felt being home or a list of the coolest characters I encountered over the year, or about the trip to New York, which I swear to God I’ll get around to.  What is that bullshit?  I do what I want.

So let’s talk about today.  Today was a day like fashioned like many of my favorite days: no plans, too much time, sitting around and seeing what comes to me.  Here’s what came to me.  I sat at my computer and listened to my songs on shuffle while playing Mahjonng.  I then just happened to glance over at my bulletin board and noticed an old note hanging up from a girl I once knew.

Now.  This Girl I Once Knew (GIOK) first becamse my friend two and a half years ago.  Our friendship forming was crazy: it happened really fast, and I adored the girl.  We made each other laugh hysterically, had thousands of inside jokes, could talk for hours, and I trusted her and confided in her more easily than my oldest companions.  I know it sounds like I was falling in love, and in a way I sort of was, platonically.  I was falling in friend-love.  Around this same time, I was potentially getting something started with a Boy I Once Knew (BIOK).  So the GIOK and I were writing furiously to each other, passing notes in the halls of our high school like some grade school giggly girls about this boy I liked.  Anyway, the relationship with this GIOK ended on a really sour note; she ended up with the BIOK (and rejected) (juuuuuuuust saying) which was gross and weird to me on so many levels that I can’t begin to explain, not the least of which involved a 5 year, high-school-college age/maturity gap.  I haven’t spoken to either the BIOK or the GIOK in about two years.

I found all of our notes today, after noticing the one still hanging on my bulletin board which I must’ve just trained my eye to ignore because God forbid I lift a finger to throw it out, and re-read them.  Some parts made me smile and laugh and miss knowing and loving this girl; others made me laugh at how hypocritical or ironic her words were looking back.  Mostly, however, I kept thinking “I’m over this”.  I know I was really immature about the situation when the friendship ended (not to say that the other side wasn’t just as), and ever since, whenever I thought of the boy and girl, I rolled my eyes or got all superior, like, “I’m so sure they’re happy together”, or was basically just a heinous anus about the whole thing.  I was bitter and resentful.

Today, reading those notes, I got over it.  Seriously.  Just like that.  It was like magic.  I thought, yeah, they’re together, and you know what?  They went through some crazy stupid drama together and were often the only person the other one had to talk to about it, and that is probably what drew them to each other.  Perhaps they are happy now.  So?  Should that take away from my happiness in anyway?  What reason do I have, exactly, to resent the happiness of two people I don’t know or want to know anymore?  Damn girl, just let them be!  While the fact that they’re supposedly “engaged” with this girl juuuuuust out of high school still makes me severely roll my eyes, it’s not because I have some personal vendetta against the two of them; it’s because no 18 year old should be entrusted with making any momentous life decision about anything.  Ever.

So I went to my very best friend’s house and burnt all our notes in her back yard.  And then I went and laid on her floor under her ceiling fan and thought about the boy I like, which is such a better investment of my time than wasting space hating on people I can barely stoke up any powerful emotion about anymore.

Oh, heeeeey, nice to meet you, what’s your name?  Perspective?  Huh, maybe we should hang out sometime.