Wait.
What's happening?
I don't know that this feeling is.
It's like blankets in winter, or the first time you use the fireplace, or christmas lights for no reason, or using lamps instead of overhead light so everything gets that warm glow and photographs turn out more personal and deep.
It's a little like feeling full, or being resolved, or maybe even the feeling you get when you've been driving aimlessly and lost for a really long time and you finally recognize your surroundings and you know you're safe.
I feel......
peace.
Time to get a new blog.
<3gen
Tuesday, May 26, 2009
Friday, May 15, 2009
"Your Love Will Be Safe With Me" or "I Love You For Your Little, Startled, Thoughtless Ways"
I think this is one of those grown-up lessons.
I'm slowly discovering the real depths of how self-involved and self-centered I can be sometimes. I care about other people immensely, and love to make them happy. You guys know this about me, I hope. But I'm not a very good listener, because much of the time I only act as if I'm waiting for my chance to speak. And I'm seeing more. I'm seeing that I very rarely consider the effects of my actions on other people aside from how I will feel about it, or how it will affect me.
I have had no problem seeing multiple people at once, dating a few guys, a few girls, and talking about it honestly (oh honesty, how often you lead me into trouble). But when I am seeing someone and they talk about other people they have feelings for, it makes me feel bad, I feel hurt. I have just been assuming all these years that they couldn't possibly feel the same way. They didn't care about me, since they didn't say it out loud every six seconds, so I can talk about whatever I want and it won't hurt them. How stupid is that?
I need to start really working on my listening skills and how perceptive I am. For so long I've thought I knew people really well, I listened, I was a good friend and always there for people. I'm seeing now that I should be better at it. I have got to start paying attention to other people, really start listening and taking it in and not just considering what's happening in relation to me or when I get the next bit of attention.
And as far as my habits with boys, well, we all know that I've been learning those lessons for years now. But it's always been all about me, right? I was subservient and dependent for so long, that I went headlong into being thoughtless and careless with people and that's not balance, it's just the inverse. What I need is balance. What I need is a way to understand my own feelings and pay attention to what I'm saying and how it would make me feel. And maybe if someone else says the same things I do, I need to remember that.
These seem like easy lessons, obvious even, but if there's anything that I've been wrong about for the longest time, it's love and relationships.
So hey, I'm listening this time. I'll figure this out. I'm gaining strength every day. I'm growing up.
And then I fell for a boy with blue eyes who I've known less than a week.
There is reason in everything.
<3gen
I'm slowly discovering the real depths of how self-involved and self-centered I can be sometimes. I care about other people immensely, and love to make them happy. You guys know this about me, I hope. But I'm not a very good listener, because much of the time I only act as if I'm waiting for my chance to speak. And I'm seeing more. I'm seeing that I very rarely consider the effects of my actions on other people aside from how I will feel about it, or how it will affect me.
I have had no problem seeing multiple people at once, dating a few guys, a few girls, and talking about it honestly (oh honesty, how often you lead me into trouble). But when I am seeing someone and they talk about other people they have feelings for, it makes me feel bad, I feel hurt. I have just been assuming all these years that they couldn't possibly feel the same way. They didn't care about me, since they didn't say it out loud every six seconds, so I can talk about whatever I want and it won't hurt them. How stupid is that?
I need to start really working on my listening skills and how perceptive I am. For so long I've thought I knew people really well, I listened, I was a good friend and always there for people. I'm seeing now that I should be better at it. I have got to start paying attention to other people, really start listening and taking it in and not just considering what's happening in relation to me or when I get the next bit of attention.
And as far as my habits with boys, well, we all know that I've been learning those lessons for years now. But it's always been all about me, right? I was subservient and dependent for so long, that I went headlong into being thoughtless and careless with people and that's not balance, it's just the inverse. What I need is balance. What I need is a way to understand my own feelings and pay attention to what I'm saying and how it would make me feel. And maybe if someone else says the same things I do, I need to remember that.
These seem like easy lessons, obvious even, but if there's anything that I've been wrong about for the longest time, it's love and relationships.
So hey, I'm listening this time. I'll figure this out. I'm gaining strength every day. I'm growing up.
And then I fell for a boy with blue eyes who I've known less than a week.
There is reason in everything.
<3gen
I love you
For your little,startled,thoughtless ways,
For your ponderings,like soft dark birds,
And when you speak ‘tis a sudden sunlight.
I love you
For your wide child eyes,and fluttering hands,
For the little divinities your wrists,
And the beautiful mysteries your fingers.
I love you.
Does the blossom study her day of life?
Is the butterfly vexed with an hour of soul?
I had rather a rose than live forever.
--ee cummings
Sunday, May 10, 2009
"We Were Only Freshmen" or "Like A Story Told In The Faultlines of the Soil"
What I've been thinking about the most were those moments when I really thought I couldn't make it.
Nights when I had two projects due in less than 3 hours and I hadn't slept in 46 hours. Those nights when I was running on nothing but espresso, text messages, spellcheck, and cigarettes.
Mornings when the hangover was so bad I was sure it was cancer, brain cancer, a tumor the size of a grapefruit. They were going to have to saw my head open and let my brain expand. Mornings when I woke up much too close to the toilet for my comfort.
Days when I had $35 in my checking account, and the cable bill was $46.50, and I knew I'd wasted my money on lattes, toys, and thrift stores. Days when I had saltines and pickles for dinner.
Nights after breakups, after falling in love, after ruining myself over so many boys because I was just so. in. love. And I was just so. fucked. up.
I used to text Lindsey late at night, "Can we just drop out of college and move to Mexico?" Several times she said "Yes. Be there in 10 minutes."
But here I am at the end of it. Even the most devastating things, even the moments that made me wish I were dead or back home or wishing I were blind so I never had to see the world again, I made it through them all. I'm here, on the other side of the giant tunnel of youth, from preschool to graduation, and I came out of it alive.
It is actually physically jarring how different you are when you start college and when you end it. I am absolutely delighted with the person that I have turned out to be.
I have strength I didn't know I had, friends I never knew existed, power that only God can give. And how I start this new chapter, with a 9-5 job and a regular paycheck. I pay my own bills, I have my own health insurance, I'll do my laundry. This is what it's all been building up to. This is the moment. Right. Now.
Tomorrow I start my full time job. Last night I met a nice boy with soft hands and a sweet smile and I'm comfortable. My sister is about to be a senior in high school. Lindsey and Linn leave for Kenya in less than a week.
My next goal is to read everything Kurt Vonnegut ever wrote.
Let's do this.
<3gen
Nights when I had two projects due in less than 3 hours and I hadn't slept in 46 hours. Those nights when I was running on nothing but espresso, text messages, spellcheck, and cigarettes.
Mornings when the hangover was so bad I was sure it was cancer, brain cancer, a tumor the size of a grapefruit. They were going to have to saw my head open and let my brain expand. Mornings when I woke up much too close to the toilet for my comfort.
Days when I had $35 in my checking account, and the cable bill was $46.50, and I knew I'd wasted my money on lattes, toys, and thrift stores. Days when I had saltines and pickles for dinner.
Nights after breakups, after falling in love, after ruining myself over so many boys because I was just so. in. love. And I was just so. fucked. up.
I used to text Lindsey late at night, "Can we just drop out of college and move to Mexico?" Several times she said "Yes. Be there in 10 minutes."
But here I am at the end of it. Even the most devastating things, even the moments that made me wish I were dead or back home or wishing I were blind so I never had to see the world again, I made it through them all. I'm here, on the other side of the giant tunnel of youth, from preschool to graduation, and I came out of it alive.
It is actually physically jarring how different you are when you start college and when you end it. I am absolutely delighted with the person that I have turned out to be.
I have strength I didn't know I had, friends I never knew existed, power that only God can give. And how I start this new chapter, with a 9-5 job and a regular paycheck. I pay my own bills, I have my own health insurance, I'll do my laundry. This is what it's all been building up to. This is the moment. Right. Now.
Tomorrow I start my full time job. Last night I met a nice boy with soft hands and a sweet smile and I'm comfortable. My sister is about to be a senior in high school. Lindsey and Linn leave for Kenya in less than a week.
My next goal is to read everything Kurt Vonnegut ever wrote.
Let's do this.
<3gen
Thursday, April 30, 2009
"Beauty Exists Only In Struggle" or "3 Voicemail Boxes, 2 Bright Pants, and 1 Pair of Heart-Shaped Sunglasses"
OH. DEAR. GOD.
I am, officially, 9 days away from graduating college. I am 9 days away from the following signs of grown-up-titude:
--My own health insurance
--A land-line home phone
--A work phone number
--Operating a fax machine
--Business cards with the word "administrator" on them
--Alcohol intended to last more than one evening
WHAT THE FUCK IS HAPPENING?
I remember sitting in Mrs. Amamoo's kindergarten class, practicing writing my name, becoming increasingly frustrated with how many E's were in my name. I could see into the Mrs. Cain's first grade classroom (I can't believe I still remember her name). And I remember, so distinctly, looking into that room and thinking to myself
How did I get here?
How did I get from rolling myself over, to walking on two legs, to tying my shoes, to spelling my name, to fingerpainting, to riding a tricycle, to playing dress-up, to getting a little sister, to picking out my own clothes, to stop getting toys for christmas, to wearing makeup, to getting allowance, to getting boyfriends, to getting kisses, to being rebellious, to learning to drive, to reading literature, to graduating high school, to drinking my way through sophomore year, to being in love, to losing it all, to gaining the world, to figuring myself out, to being THIS FUCKING CLOSE to being a REAL ADULT.
You just don't plan your life this far in advance, you can't. Even now, being 9 days away from the real, live world, I'm having trouble picturing it. Every age and year until 22 has a milestone, has memories, has a clear picture. After this? Things get blurry. What does the world after school look like?
If you had told me when I came to college that in 4 years I would be in love with a class of four year-olds, outwardly bisexual, without a boyfriend and LOVING IT, living with my male best friend, and have a job as a church secretary, I would have gotten offended, climbed in bed with my boyfriend, and snuggled blissfully into crazytown.
The craziest thing?
Everyone was right.
About everything.
And I had it all so very wrong.
Thank God.
<3gen
p.s. I'll probably get a tumblr soon. Further bulletins as events warrant.
I am, officially, 9 days away from graduating college. I am 9 days away from the following signs of grown-up-titude:
--My own health insurance
--A land-line home phone
--A work phone number
--Operating a fax machine
--Business cards with the word "administrator" on them
--Alcohol intended to last more than one evening
WHAT THE FUCK IS HAPPENING?
I remember sitting in Mrs. Amamoo's kindergarten class, practicing writing my name, becoming increasingly frustrated with how many E's were in my name. I could see into the Mrs. Cain's first grade classroom (I can't believe I still remember her name). And I remember, so distinctly, looking into that room and thinking to myself
"I am never, EVER, going to make it to first grade."
How did I get here?
How did I get from rolling myself over, to walking on two legs, to tying my shoes, to spelling my name, to fingerpainting, to riding a tricycle, to playing dress-up, to getting a little sister, to picking out my own clothes, to stop getting toys for christmas, to wearing makeup, to getting allowance, to getting boyfriends, to getting kisses, to being rebellious, to learning to drive, to reading literature, to graduating high school, to drinking my way through sophomore year, to being in love, to losing it all, to gaining the world, to figuring myself out, to being THIS FUCKING CLOSE to being a REAL ADULT.
You just don't plan your life this far in advance, you can't. Even now, being 9 days away from the real, live world, I'm having trouble picturing it. Every age and year until 22 has a milestone, has memories, has a clear picture. After this? Things get blurry. What does the world after school look like?
If you had told me when I came to college that in 4 years I would be in love with a class of four year-olds, outwardly bisexual, without a boyfriend and LOVING IT, living with my male best friend, and have a job as a church secretary, I would have gotten offended, climbed in bed with my boyfriend, and snuggled blissfully into crazytown.
The craziest thing?
Everyone was right.
About everything.
And I had it all so very wrong.
Thank God.
<3gen
p.s. I'll probably get a tumblr soon. Further bulletins as events warrant.
Sunday, April 5, 2009
"Will You Still Need Me, Will You Still Feed Me, When I'm Sixty-Four?" or "The New Top Five"
1. So, my hair is brown.
I'm not entirely ok with it just yet, but I'll get there I guess. I feel sort of ordinary all of a sudden, and kids don't smile at me like they used to, and there are people who don't talk to me so easily. But last night my friend Daniel said to me, "What about all the people who didn't talk to you because of the hair? You'll have to find a way to be bright and have that energy without being pink anymore."
I suppose that's good advice.
2. I got the job at Canterbury, which is absolutely amazing. It pays great, it has health insurance, and I get to organize things and make things efficient all day, talk to people, act as a voice and a face for the church. It's a fantastic job, and I'll have the money to spend the next few years getting a Masters of Education with night classes. It's exactly what I needed, and I still get to keep my job with my class at church.
3. I am having senior-itis like I did not know existed, and I can't even motivate myself to write a three-page paper that's nothing but opinion on the Beatles. I had to write THREE PAGES on nothing but OPINION on MUSIC and I couldn't do it. That's insulting to my English Degree that awaits me at the end of this tunnel. But at this point, studying and producing assignments is equivalent to pulling an angry cat through a keyhole. Not only impossible, but clawing.
4. In my personal/emotional/sexual/relationship life, things are balanced. I feel at peace, in control, and comfortable exactly where I am and with exactly what I'm doing. I don't know how long this feeling will last, or how many nights I'll feel great before I get right back to writing metaphors about tears in my notebook. But for right now, I feel just right.
5. I am incredibly ready to be a grown-up, done with college, with a real job and a real salary. I am also terrified that, in reality, I am overwhelmingly unprepared.
Then again, isn't everyone?
<3gen
I'm not entirely ok with it just yet, but I'll get there I guess. I feel sort of ordinary all of a sudden, and kids don't smile at me like they used to, and there are people who don't talk to me so easily. But last night my friend Daniel said to me, "What about all the people who didn't talk to you because of the hair? You'll have to find a way to be bright and have that energy without being pink anymore."
I suppose that's good advice.
2. I got the job at Canterbury, which is absolutely amazing. It pays great, it has health insurance, and I get to organize things and make things efficient all day, talk to people, act as a voice and a face for the church. It's a fantastic job, and I'll have the money to spend the next few years getting a Masters of Education with night classes. It's exactly what I needed, and I still get to keep my job with my class at church.
3. I am having senior-itis like I did not know existed, and I can't even motivate myself to write a three-page paper that's nothing but opinion on the Beatles. I had to write THREE PAGES on nothing but OPINION on MUSIC and I couldn't do it. That's insulting to my English Degree that awaits me at the end of this tunnel. But at this point, studying and producing assignments is equivalent to pulling an angry cat through a keyhole. Not only impossible, but clawing.
4. In my personal/emotional/sexual/relationship life, things are balanced. I feel at peace, in control, and comfortable exactly where I am and with exactly what I'm doing. I don't know how long this feeling will last, or how many nights I'll feel great before I get right back to writing metaphors about tears in my notebook. But for right now, I feel just right.
5. I am incredibly ready to be a grown-up, done with college, with a real job and a real salary. I am also terrified that, in reality, I am overwhelmingly unprepared.
Then again, isn't everyone?
<3gen
Friday, March 20, 2009
"Peculiar Travel Suggestions" or "Finding Niagara"
So I read Cat's Cradle in one night, and came upon a superb quote the night before I embarked on a completely spontaneous, totally unplanned, fantastically unpredictable adventure with one Lindsey Mullen:
So we had a mantra. Then we had plane tickets, then we had two seats on a plane to the Buffalo/Niagara airport, and then we had a destination. And then we had the adventure.
If you want a play-by-play, there's twitter. If you want the highlights, there were friends we met on the bus that were always helpful, there were tiny birds that ate out of our hands about 10 yards from one of the most marvelous natural occurrences on planet earth, and there was a seriously beautiful stroke of divine intervention that led us to a positively fantastic hotel. Dearest thanks to Hotwire.com, your friendly neighborhood Buffalo airport security guard who also might be a drug dealer, and public libraries.
Buffalo and subsequently Niagara were, respectively, ghost-towns, but as Lindsey and I traveled the streets and public transit, we learned to appreciate it. It was quiet, chilly, and plenty of room to breathe. The houses in Buffalo have some of the most delightful-looking architecture I've ever seen, and we stumbled into a used book store full of hippies and a whole section of home-made zines. Sometimes whole streets would smell like garlic, and we danced to music playing from an outdoors store, and survived on nothing but crackers and clif bars. Then a doe-eyed little cheerleader from the church of Scientology gave us a free DVD.
The whole trip cost less than $300, including plane fare, hotel, food, and transportation. We only ate one real meal while we were there, and I think that the best way to appreciate food is to live on vending machine fare for a few days, then eat anything warm and soft. It'll be so good you'll insist it's manna from God himself, given only to you out of love.
It was a fantastic trip, and I didn't panic when we didn't have a place to stay, or when our friend Germaine tried to get us to stay in a hotel/front for human trafficking operation/crack house, or when Niagara was a town of abandoned buildings and closed Mediterranean food trailers.
My head was completely clear. It wasn't that I was making an effort not to think of my ex-boyfriend new happy-and-drug-free relationship, the work I have to get done for Apwonjo and graduation, papers and midterms, college sophomores who have still stolen my heart, my messy room, or my still foggy job prospects, but the thoughts weren't even there. I thought of nothing but Niagara falls, warm coats, Lindsey's smile, meeting new people, seeing new things, and appreciating how lucky I really am.
We only took video, no photos, so we'll take still shots from that later, and make a little travelogue. But for now, verbal description will have to suffice.
"Peculiar travel suggestions are dance lessons from God."
So we had a mantra. Then we had plane tickets, then we had two seats on a plane to the Buffalo/Niagara airport, and then we had a destination. And then we had the adventure.
If you want a play-by-play, there's twitter. If you want the highlights, there were friends we met on the bus that were always helpful, there were tiny birds that ate out of our hands about 10 yards from one of the most marvelous natural occurrences on planet earth, and there was a seriously beautiful stroke of divine intervention that led us to a positively fantastic hotel. Dearest thanks to Hotwire.com, your friendly neighborhood Buffalo airport security guard who also might be a drug dealer, and public libraries.
Buffalo and subsequently Niagara were, respectively, ghost-towns, but as Lindsey and I traveled the streets and public transit, we learned to appreciate it. It was quiet, chilly, and plenty of room to breathe. The houses in Buffalo have some of the most delightful-looking architecture I've ever seen, and we stumbled into a used book store full of hippies and a whole section of home-made zines. Sometimes whole streets would smell like garlic, and we danced to music playing from an outdoors store, and survived on nothing but crackers and clif bars. Then a doe-eyed little cheerleader from the church of Scientology gave us a free DVD.
The whole trip cost less than $300, including plane fare, hotel, food, and transportation. We only ate one real meal while we were there, and I think that the best way to appreciate food is to live on vending machine fare for a few days, then eat anything warm and soft. It'll be so good you'll insist it's manna from God himself, given only to you out of love.
It was a fantastic trip, and I didn't panic when we didn't have a place to stay, or when our friend Germaine tried to get us to stay in a hotel/front for human trafficking operation/crack house, or when Niagara was a town of abandoned buildings and closed Mediterranean food trailers.
My head was completely clear. It wasn't that I was making an effort not to think of my ex-boyfriend new happy-and-drug-free relationship, the work I have to get done for Apwonjo and graduation, papers and midterms, college sophomores who have still stolen my heart, my messy room, or my still foggy job prospects, but the thoughts weren't even there. I thought of nothing but Niagara falls, warm coats, Lindsey's smile, meeting new people, seeing new things, and appreciating how lucky I really am.
We only took video, no photos, so we'll take still shots from that later, and make a little travelogue. But for now, verbal description will have to suffice.
Friday, March 6, 2009
"There Is No Home Like The One You've Got, Cause That Home Belongs To You"
I need to go outside more. It just makes me feel good.
So yeah, I pretty much failed a midterm in one of my favorite classes. And yes, I got what can only be described as "royally rejected" from the guy that I've been gettin' weak in the knees for since November. And I've been worried about what to do after graduation, having no plans and no income, and every try in the job market collapsing like a flan in a cupboard.
But I have GOT to start remembering what I do have. Thanks, Tegan&Sara, for pumping all the sad girl lyrics you could through my speakers and into my veins, but let's take a break. It's a beautiful day outside, and tonight I go home to see my family and my dogs, and tomorrow I get to see Rutsky. I should be happy that I am starting to mend a friendship that I had no business breaking in the first place. I should be happy that I've got great friends and a good family and a nice computer and cowboy boots and a great job- even if it doesn't pay that well.
It's time to make spring break plans with my dream girl, and make some art to hang on people's walls, and cook lasagna and watch good movies and read Kurt Vonnegut and just go outside more.
<3<3<3gen
So yeah, I pretty much failed a midterm in one of my favorite classes. And yes, I got what can only be described as "royally rejected" from the guy that I've been gettin' weak in the knees for since November. And I've been worried about what to do after graduation, having no plans and no income, and every try in the job market collapsing like a flan in a cupboard.
But I have GOT to start remembering what I do have. Thanks, Tegan&Sara, for pumping all the sad girl lyrics you could through my speakers and into my veins, but let's take a break. It's a beautiful day outside, and tonight I go home to see my family and my dogs, and tomorrow I get to see Rutsky. I should be happy that I am starting to mend a friendship that I had no business breaking in the first place. I should be happy that I've got great friends and a good family and a nice computer and cowboy boots and a great job- even if it doesn't pay that well.
It's time to make spring break plans with my dream girl, and make some art to hang on people's walls, and cook lasagna and watch good movies and read Kurt Vonnegut and just go outside more.
<3<3<3gen
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