a magic swirling ship|
[Most Recent Entries]
Below are the 19 most recent journal entries recorded in
Mary Ashley Burton's LiveJournal:
|Saturday, May 15th, 2004|
so many people come in and out of our lives...I kind of wonder what use it is to be upset at anyone when time passes so fast that whoever is annoying will soon be out of my life anyway.
But then that part of me is shot and dies a slow, painful death by the other part of me that hates humanity.
|Friday, April 30th, 2004|
It really has been a long time. I guess I just have not thought about updating much this semester. It seems kind of futile at times, but I think I really do need an outlet in the end.
So I'm having my monthly emotional binge. Today at work I went to the bathroom in Draper and cried for many different reasons, none of which I could really understand.
Part of it was that I really pissed Fred off today. I saw him more pissed off than ever at me. As soon as he saw me he got really quiet and gave me this strange look. This was preceded by the note that I found as soon as I came into work(practically the first thing I saw this morning) which read, in all capital letters, I AM GOING TO KILL YOU! What a wonderfully positive way to begin the day. He was pissed because I hadn't returned something to the library yet, something he had asked me to return on Wednesday. Obviously, not returning things to the library is a tragic character flaw that reflects so much about how competent I am. So I returned it and actually tried to do some work but he was being savage, really savage, as only he can. It's weird...I'm so afraid of dissapointing him that sometimes I just get overwhelmed with feeling that way and then just don't do anything, which really does dissapoint him. I don't really understand why holding off on returning something like that for only two days would set him off, because it is certainly not the worst of things I have done. But he gave a very eloquent passive-aggressive speech to John Wallhauser about my generation's lack of work ethic.
But this whole just not caring reflects something much deeper. I have a general ambivalence about life, but really I think that ambivalence is just my not wanting to face any of my issues, which are too numerous to count. Today I felt like I had been really longing to cry for a while, but for some reason I was just not able to.
It is very painful right now for me to face reality. Like, I've been talking quite loudly about how I don't see myself ever being in a relationship again, and especially not a long-term one, but however much I talk about it like it doesn't matter, inside I really do long for something like that but I know on a practical level that I probably couldn't pull it off. The day that I discovered I was bored with love I would go insane. I never want to be bored with such an intensity of emotion. But as I was walking to class today I asked myself whether I was bored with my love for God, and what was scary is that I couldn't give a definitive no. When Bruce and I went to the Chinese Buffet we were talking about having, as Bruce put it, a "buffet marriage". People go home, they agree to go somewhere and eat at a buffet. They eat in silence, remarking how good the food is, go home, and that is their married life, with the only quality time shared over Lo Mein noodles. They do not go eat together simply for the joy of being together, but because they are hungry and they are obligated to eat with this person they find themselves next to every morning. Their all-consuming love and passion has evolved into something that is more or less utilitarian. I think that this maybe what my relationship with God has evolved into. I fulfill my religious obligations because I have to, and I go about them with a kind of...well, not boredom, but almost. and, just like a buffet I keep going back to them not because I'm really searching for something to fill me, but I feel obligated to justify the price I have paid for it by simply stuffing myself as full as I possibly can. The food that I choose isn't nourishing, it's just insubstantial carbohydrates that will eventually leave me emptier than ever. And although I'm dining out with God in this horrible metaphor, and I should be ecstatic, I've lost a sense of what that really means, just like these couples have lost it.
I think maybe a contributing factor in this is my current infuriation with politics in the church. I am so ready to abandon it all and go off by myself and not have to think about it anymore, but that is one of the most impractical things I could ever do. I would ultimately fail, because I cannot nourish myself spiritually. As Fred did say, I am not a Carmelite or Trappist, and I am not called to that yet, and I still need outside help. But I feel like there is hardly anybody that a)understands me and b)is trustworthy. Vicki wrote this email to the whole Newman board and in it she wrote that she hadn't heard from me all semester and she didn't know if I would like to be involved and maybe it had to do with going to church in Versailles. I wrote her back a simple email saying that I had had a conflict with every single meeting they had scheduled and did not want everyone to have to rearrange everything on account of me, and I wasn't even sure what benefit my presence would have at the meeting or whether I was wanted because noone had said anything to me about it. She forwarded my email to everyone, which really did hurt me, even though nothing particularly important was in it, and I would have had no problem with telling anybody the same thing because I don't want to hide how I feel. But the fact is she did that without first asking me if she could, and I am so pissed off that she thinks she can come in and automatically be buddy-buddy with everyone and take everything over and use her seminary degree to intimidate. That freakin' degree is not going to win my trust; she doesn't have any more learning or training than my dad does. This rage is compounded with a general disillusionment with humanity and my loss of faith in democracy. Vicki says that she wants to minister, but she only wants to minister to those that agree with her, and I feel like (since my mom's reputation has preceded me) she has always found a way to fault me or cut me down under the façade of being really nice. It's just like the people that say they are all for all kinds of freedoms, provided that everything that happens is in accordance with their values. Why the fuck are all these self-styled liberals asking Sara to take down her pro-life signs simply because they may upset people? I thought freedom was their main argument. What happened to freedom of speech? Why don't they want a healthy and free exchange of ideas? Either it's because they are scared, their arguments have no weight, or they are hypocrites.
I'm also pissed off about many other things. Why should I have to choose between Bush and Kerry? I hate both of them, and a vote is a statement of support, and I don't want to support either. I don't even feel like anything will really change. If either one of them is elected, good things will happen and so will bad and that's a part of life. They are both hypocrites. What the hell does Kerry know about the working-class struggle for housing? Which one of his million dollar homes is he struggling to keep? What does Bush even know about anything? Kerry pretends to separate what he supposedly believes from everything else he does. Bush puts up a front of faith that is betrayed by everything else he does. By the time November rolls around, I will have been able to vote for two years, but never having voted because I have a conscience.
But then, every time I think about not voting I think about the suffragettes that only wanted to vote.
However, that leads me to another thing that I'm pissed off about, which is the general stupidity of humanity. Shane and Leonard got voted into office and that just makes me want to hang my head and cry. The other day someone in my Western Trads class actually asked IF PRUSSIA STILL EXISTS.
THESE PEOPLE ARE RUNNING MY COUNTRY AND MAKING DECISIONS THAT AFFECT PEOPLE'S LIVES. I'm sorry, but the fact that someone exists and has the ability to talk does not mean that they are entitled to an opinion that I should have to hear.
And in all of this, I have somewhere lost my desire to learn. Mme. de Châtelet and other women like her were absolutely brilliant and all she wanted to do was *learn* but she was prevented because of her sex. So she did experiments on her own. And here at Berea students have been conditioned to believe that they are receiving something that they could not otherwise get so they feel entitled to a degree, or else it is the professors' fault for failing them for life. How many of them would go to great lengths simply to learn? Why is it that at a supposedly liberal arts school most people seem only to be focused on the practical? Nursing, business and tech majors will not have to worry about employment when they have their degrees. But will they be better people?
Yet another thing that I've been recently furious about is the whole HOP thing...but it looks really promising now. I still think Olivia might be pissed at me though which seems to complicate things so unnecessarily. I think she misinterpreted my email. I was never pissed at her in any way, I was just confused and frustrated and I don't like feeling that I am devoting time to something just so I can be someone's pawn and not be listened to.
I've also been worried recently (kind of returning to the first thing I wrote about) that I have a completely different view of sex and its importance than the rest of society. That is one of the many reasons why I seriously doubt I can ever really be in a long term relationship...that and the fact that my standards have risen to an impossibly high level that I don't think anyone could ever meet. Yeah, I would rather have high standards than low ones and end up wasting my time and energy with losers (oh wait, I've *only* ever dated losers...) but I'm afraid I'm causing an impossible situation for myself in which I'll never be happy. Caroline was concerned that I was going to start kissing gay men, because two people she knows, a gay guy and his fag hag actually make out. I think that is really borderline kinky...apparently he pictures someone else but she doesn't. I think the thing that most disgusts me is that he would lead his friend on like that so that he could get some minimal physical pleasure. Nothing good could happen from that situation, where two people are doing nothing more than submitting to their lust. Someone is inevitably going to get hurt. In any case, I grew out of that need quite a while ago and the reality is I would rather have a relationship without the pressure of physical stuff. It's a tremendous conflict in me because, yeah, I have needs just like everybody else but I just can't see satisfying them enough grounds to hurt someone else or to destroy a relationship. But who is ever going to want to have a long-term relationship with someone who thinks that way? It seems like nowadays long-term relationships mean nothing if they don't involve sex, and I don't know hardly anyone who doesn't believe that. Given that I'm tired of compromising myself, it would be easier to just swear off men, or boys that call themselves as such, forever.
Along with this comes the really painful realization that some people may have been placed in my life solely so that I can be strong enough to reject them. I really enjoy talking with el jefe. I really, really do. I enjoy being around him as a person, but he also pissed me off (kind of) a couple weeks ago and I just decided that my standards have reached an impossible level, but that I also should not compromise myself. Really, I guess I can just say that I'm tired of waiting for anything to happen with him and this has led to an overwhelming cynicism, but I can't stop myself from being attracted to and interested in him.
I'm full of conflicts and issues.
ok. I'm going to force myself to stop writing. This probably has helped me, though.
I wonder if this qualifies as a blog. I hope not. Current Mood: confused
|Monday, March 1st, 2004|
|and after such a long time!!!
I'm sorry that I've neglected my journal. Maybe *this* is what's been missing in my life.
So, to make a long story short, Mexico was awesome and I miss it so much. In fact, the other day I was walking down the street and it hit me how much I miss it like a big wave. For some reason I feel like my Spanish is now worse than last semester...maybe because it was really good in Mexico...but instead of really being good it was just the environment, and my brain just got used to relying on it and not having to work so hard to remember things and understand and everything and now that environment isn't there and I feel like I can't say anything. I feel that way about English too, though.
I hate my Spanish class and every day that I walk in the classroom I wish I would spontaneously combust. Having Martha Brewer read a paragraph about what art is and mispronounce every word and not get corrected is not helping me learn Spanish. Discussing Aesop's fables at length in English is also not helping me learn. Knowing 80% of the vocab words doesn't really help either. I'm learning *maybe* one word per day, and that's stretching it. Maybe I was misinformed about the nature of the class, but it seems like Intro to SPANISH LITERATURE would include some reading of Spanish Literature within the first month. NO! Instead I have to deal with idiots that can't put a sentence together. That in itself would be fine, I have no problem with that...Lord knows I'm totally that way in French...but what IS frustrating is that they don't WANT to learn...THEY DON'T EVEN CARE AT ALL!
deep breath. deep breath.
This semester has been ok so far. I enjoy having things to do but I still don't like going back to my room. It's really lonely. I don't feel like talking about Alana...although she still is crazy she *might* be coming around to sanity, but I have my doubts.
I've had more dates with Bruce this semester than anyone ever in my life.
Last Saturday I spent almost the entire day with el jefe and it was really fun, I have to admit, although I am still as confused as ever. I feel like we're continuously circling around each other, eyeing each other and measuring each other up. Or something like that. Although I never took him for someone that would play games, I just can't explain his strange behavior.
Over Christmas Break and short term we emailed each other and I missed him a whole lot, more than I thought I would, really, because I didn't really have anything concrete to miss. And ever since then when I *have* seen him (which is very rarely indeed) I've been making every effort to flirt but it just hasn't been working out. So I prayed for a sign from God and all these random consequences started to happen (ok, so I believe they were neither random nor consequences...) that led to me learning that he loves Sonny's Bar-B-Que, and me winning free lunches there because I knew the name to a Bob Dylan song on the radio and even though some 40 year old had already called in I happened to be young enough to impress the DJ. That was quite a while ago (actually it was like the Tuesday before Valentine's Day), and he invited me to go spend the day with him in Gatlinburg along with the Newman club but my mouth declined him without consulting my brain and then I decided that given the amount of undue importance I used to give to that awful day I should treat like any other and go babysit, which I did, and got $50 out of...YAY! And I believe I am more mentally healthy for it. It would have been too perfect and ruined my stability. So I didn't see him for a long time and eventually I told him that if he didn't want to eat with me he could just tell me but he said "no!" and we tried to pick up the tickets on Saturday but it just happened to be the day the Fox people aren't there and instead is the Mexican radio station and so we went to food service (talk about a cheap date...). And then we went to el rio grande to arrange ESL classes with the peeps down there because I've been feeling really guilty because I see Gustavo and Eric almost every day, because every day at noon they happen to be driving where I go to my music class. Then he invited me to go hiking and I went and we hiked the Pinnacle, which I had never done, with his roommate who really makes me laugh. The thing I don't understand is he kept talking about other girls I know are interested in him, and he even invited them to go with us but luck had it that they just couldn't come. I don't get why he would do that to me. Unless he doesn't know that they are interested...but how could *I* know and not he? And he also started talking about how Hispanic girls flirt with a guy they don't even like to make another one jealous, and how he's been the victim of that 3 times. This probably means nothing, but it's still kind of weird.
And another thing...Saturday kind of renewed my interest in him in a major way...ever since the semester started I had been kind of...well...liking him simply because I had liked him before...in a kind of empty way. Something just wasn't there that had been there last semester. But I woke up this morning feeling it again...that weird feeling in my chest that makes it hard to breathe. It was strange. It's like after weeks of not being sure whether I should give up and move on or keep at it or what, all of a sudden it was there again. I took it as another sign from God. I've been praying and praying for direction but most of the time I get this odd feeling that nothing is ever as it seems and what I think is great for myself isn't and I've been kind of waiting for that kick in the ass that always happens when you think things are going smoothly.
Which brings me to my next point: My dad is a prick and I don't have any real desire for him to be involved in my life. I've been having a shaky relationship with him anyway lately, but I learned that a couple weeks ago he and Kay were on the phone with my brother and they all three were bonding through making fun of my mom and laughing at her. All because my mom is passing out church flyers. My poor mom. If anyone doesn't deserve to be laughed at, especially by someone like my dad, it's her. That little incident made her cry! Excuse me, but if she still manages to find time to be superinvolved in church despite working two jobs, writing her dissertation, taking my brother to a doctor's appointment every week and meeting with his teachers because he's failing half his classes, then more power to her! My dad didn't even remember what country I was in in January, while my mom hasn't slept in 10 years in order to support us. Fred says I should give up my father for Lent, that some relationships must be cut off in order to heal. I can see his point. He suggested I write my dad a letter describing everything that has hurt me, ever, because I've never told my dad all that and it's about damn time he knows. The man is a minister, and yet can't remember what my major is. As long as I'm studying French, he says, so that I can translate for him when he goes to France. I get the distinct feeling he wants me to come visit solely because of how it would look to his congregation, because who wants to listen to a preacher whose children don't love him?
Essentially, the problem is this: my dad is using the word love, possibly the most powerful in the English language, in a very vile and vulgar way, because he is using it for selfish reasons so that he might manipulate me. And because I've believed too long in the power of the word love, I've allowed myself to be manipulated and have spent too long being miserable for never amounting to enough for him. He has forced me to compensate for his errors all of my life. I don't want to be a burden anymore.
On another note: I have absolutely no idea what I'm going to do with my life! Fred suggested that I study in Peru, which I think sounds like a good idea, because I really don't want to go to Spain. Actually, Peru has been following me around lately as the place of the season. Seems like everybody is talking about going there. I just figured out a few moments ago that if I took some courses in the summer, or if I took 5 courses both semesters next year I could graduate. My, isn't that a sobering thought. Graduating long before legal drinking age. As much as I hate it here, though, I do realize that life here is much easier than in the real world, as stifling as it may be, and so staying here like a normal person does have its benefits. Also, I missed the deadline for studying abroad in the Fall with money from the department so I'll have to stay at least a semester beyond next Spring. At the moment I don't feel nearly mature enough to go off on my own and find someplace to live and take university courses in Spanish, but maybe that's not the kind of thing you can just sit around waiting to mature for.
On a side note: my stepmother is becoming crazy, I'm convinced. When I told her I was thinking about studying in South America she said she (who doesn't speak a word of Spanish) would have to go with me. I thought she was joking. Unfortunately she wasn't. And she said that when she left she would take me back with her. My mom, on the other hand, has no problem whatsoever with me leaving, and is simply encouraging me to learn.
on a random note: I wish I could stop being such an evil, judgemental bitch.
Ok I think that just about wraps up my update. Now I will be able to update the random boring goings-on of my daily life. Current Mood: complacent
|Thursday, January 1st, 2004|
|with or without her
and so. Knowing that the majority of my entries deal with my (soon to be former) roommate/(up until recently) best friend, I absolutely have to write down all my feelings.
Alana called me today...well, she left me a tear-filled voicemail informing me that she has decided to move out of her mom's apartment. Okay. So I left her a voicemail back and she eventually called me and let me know what's going on. Turns out that while her family was in Michigan she and her mom had some dramatic confrontations (a shocker, I know) involving her mom telling her things like: she's only with Tom because he's younger and she can control him, and nothing will ever become of him because she's manipulating him and nothing will become of her either because she'll drop out of college and become a deadbeat. Alana couldn't take that so they ended up leaving Michigan early and while she was at her boyfriend's house she fell asleep and accidently slept over there all night when her mom had wanted her in by two. Her mom was angry even though Alana supposedly kept apologizing and Alana decided that she didn't want to live anymore trying to please others and that her mom's expectations of her had been ruining her life all along so she packed up her clothes and bank account information and started driving around crying. She tried to go pray but she couldn't quiet herself down to listen for anything so she gave up and decided to go chill out in parking lots. She's going to stay with her boyfriend's family until she can drain her savings account, get an apartment in Berea or Richmond, and inquire about taking a leave of absence.
I didn't know what to say. On top of this, she has decided that she's probably not going to be a French major anymore. She is going to stop studying French formally BECAUSE SHE'S NOT SURE SHE WANTS TO DO IT FOR THE REST OF HER LIFE. I'm totally in shock. She is now a completely, entirely different person than I knew last year. Maybe that's because I didn't know her that well, or I had a superficial understanding of who she is, but I don't think that's very likely. Because from the very first moment I met her, I knew that she was a French major and that she loved French. And that has been such a basic facet to her personality, that it seems like everything else was built on top of that. People that don't know her at all know that she's a French major. She said she's not giving up on French and that she's going to start studying again on her own, but that she thought that she had entered into college without thinking about what to do with the rest of her life. I disagree. She had a complete future planned out that seemed pretty practical, but very Alana, which means it *seems* practical until you really think about it and you realize that she has refused to ignore many major consequences, or has given them an unrealistic rationalization. And in any case, I think her reason for ceasing to study French is really fucking stupid. Yeah, I think it's natural to enter into college intending on one thing and then discovering another, but getting an undergraduate degree in something sure as hell doesn't bind you in stone for the rest of your life. I only know a handful of people in my mom's generation that still pursue exactly what their undergraduate degree was in. Most of them have found something they can tolerate that branches off from what they knew they liked to do. She said herself that she's not giving up on the French language. Then why not study it? And when I asked what other options there were she said that she liked lots of things: Art, History, Music. Yeah, *those* sound much more promising and lucrative. I think she's maybe equating being a French major with teaching or something, which is logical, but what is illogical is this: the French language itself will not change, and there's a 400-year old Academie to make sure of it. She says that she is not sure about French in 30 years, yet she IS sure that she's going to still be with TOM? Tom, who hasn't even entered college yet and has so much opportunity to change? Since the French language is certainly not going anywhere, that means that she's unsure of who she will be later on in life. Then how is she so sure about marrying this guy? I just think that she's acting so illogically I really don't comprehend it, and I couldn't dream of telling her how I really feel because she, quite literally, runs away from criticism. Of course she couldn't sit and be quiet for prayer: she's afraid of what she might hear.
Although her mom could have probably presented her criticism in a different way, she did have some points. I don't believe that Alana is going to want to return to Berea after a leave of absence. She is going to come up with all kinds of excuses that highlight the most negative things possible and then she's going to convince herself that she's better of doing something else. That's *exactly* what's going to happen, because that's pretty much how she reacts to everything. She always has criticisms for every single thing in her life, besides Tom who is perfect, and she dwells on the negative things until she's practically living in a different world because her perception completely changes. It is also quite probable that Alana does control Tom. I don't think in an evil, manipulative way, but I do think Tom goes along with whatever she says and does everything she demands and she enjoys that. She can get quite bratty when things don't go like she wants them to.
The bottom line is, I don't really understand any of the choices she's making and I feel *totally* abandoned (I KNOW someone is going to move into my room while I'm gone if she's not there during January. And I'll be super pissed if that does happen)and I don't even know how to tell her that.
And right now I'm rather pissed at her, and how I believe she's throwing away opportunities, that I don't even know if I *want* to tell her that. This girl has caused me more anguish than anybody this year, mainly because now I have no idea how to be a friend to her, and it is MY abandonment issues that are keeping me there because I know I should not abandon someone simply because I've gotten uncomfortable. But I get the feeling that she *doesn't* feel that way at all. And I just don't see a)how getting this apartment and withdrawing from school is really going to make her happy and b)why she is so much more special than anyone else. Yes, she has had some difficult situations in her life, but SO HAS EVERYBODY. Most of the people I know are unhappy at Berea. But it's sort of like an undercurrent of unhappiness, because everyone knows that they will move on in a short time. Granted, some are outspoken (I don't know *what* my relationship with Bruce would be like if you took away bitching about Berea and gossip), but even Berea's most outspoken critics realize that Berea is giving them at least a start and they will soon be somewhere else, more able to choose their future and make better decisions. Alana just seems to be acting so prissy about a little suffering I really don't understand it. I swear she wasn't like this last year.
|some 2003 stats
well, due to the modem trauma last night, I have to do all this updating today about last year.
so here we go, the year in numbers:
In 2003 I:
-had 5 jobs
-kissed 3 guys, all of different nationalities (a career record, considering my career was only just started in late 2002)
-actually officially dated 1 guy
-desperately wanted to kiss 2 guys, but didn't
-went to Arkansas 0 times (kept *that* Resolution!)
-made 4 or 5 new friends
-recovered 1 friendship
-lost 2 "friendships"
-got to know 3 professors better
-had dinner at 2 professors' houses
-wrote 1 full-length Spanish sonnet
-battled depression 1 time
-applied for 6 summer jobs
-bitched about Berea countless times
-saw Bob Dylan 1 time
-saw Wilco 1 time
-saw Simon & Garfunkel 0 times :(
-went to Midnight Mass 2 times
-went to a Methodist church service 0 times
-went to 1 Mass on campus
-went to 1 stupid communion service
-tried to start 1 club on campus
-was involved in 4 Hispanic Outreach projects
-translated at a doctor 1 time
-went to 1 Civil War reenactment
-gave up tampons
-searched for the meaning of my existence 2 or 3 times
-acted only 3 times
wow...I've come a long way...and I've realized that I kept my Resolutions from last year: don't go see my dad unless he comes to see me, and don't get involved in any relationships in which I gave more than I took (or the selfishness was unbalanced). I was fairly successful at eradicating those unhealthy relationships.
So what should I resolve this year? I should resolve to make it to the gym more, since I went all of 1 time last semester. I should resolve to truly love myself and others around me. I should resolve to cut back on the gossip and only concern myself with *my* progress, noone else's. I should resolve to confess my feelings.
those sound good for now...:) Current Mood: optimistic
|feliz ano nuevo, everybody!
damn...it's been quite a while since I've recorded anything, let alone pointless things. Tonight I was trying to take a nap before going to Midnight Mass, but I just couldn't sleep. My soul is restless. Yeah, right. Truthfully, I just can't stop thinking about *him*.
But before any of that nonsense, let's recap my life since last entry (horror of horrors, was that really three weeks ago?)
Well, my finals ended up being way better than I was scaring myself over. Well, not actually *better* but I did manage to pull off some things that surprised even myself. For instance, getting that damn paper together for SPN was a nightmare. Planning on studying for the West. Trads final that was going to take place the next day that I hadn't studied at all for afterwards, I had written my part and thought that putting everything together would take oh, one hour, an hour and a half tops. WRONG! First Danara, Jeff, Alice, and I attempt to get together and read each other's and be quiet in a God-forsaken corner of the library, then Alice gets all bitchy because she's stressed out about her Latin final and accused me of not caring about our projects (which she did eventually apologize for). It seemed as if things were going to turn out exactly as Danara had predicted: a power struggle between Jeff and Alice who both like to control everything. But Alice left, and then Danara and I did get some great input in as we three worked on it for the NEXT THREE HOURS. Damn. It was hard, and by the end my brain was oatmeal and I was laughing hysterically at phrases and thoughts such as: "English as a Language teaching" (that little bugger had me practically rolling on the floor). Another precious gem was the thought of "adding" to Alice's part, because she had said that without support from the College, our projects will just stagger along. I thought it would have been particularly touching to add "looking for a place to die" to the end of that sentence, since of course we can't end a sentence with a preposition. Then Danara and I decided everything would be a whole lot better if we added in an extra paragraph likening our projects to a dying deer that has been shot in the forest. How poetic.
and it is worth mentioning that after said grueling session I was invited to *someone's* dorm to eat Trail Mix, since I hadn't eaten anything all day. As Jersy pointed out, Trail Mix is no kind of excuse, he just wanted me *there*. So of course I couldn't pass up that opportunity and before long it was two in the morning and I was about to pass out with dehydrated fruit in my mouth in the lobby of a guys' dorm with a final I still hadn't studied for the next day. I attempted to go back to the Spanish suite and choke down some cold Fazoli's and memorize some dates, but eventually I gave up and trekked across campus in the snow, not feeling at all prepared.
And God deserves a shout-out here, because I *know* it was his intervention that helped me that morning. It turns out that not only was I more prepared than I thought I was, I actually scored a 104% on the damn test! And a good deal of it was bullshit I scribbled nervously!
My other French final was not nearly so dramatic.
So, my grades are: A- in FRN 140, A in SPN, A+ in Western Trads, and for some reason an Incomplete in my FRN 103 class. I have *no* idea why this might be, although it is extremely possible that Dr. Meadows didn't have enough time to get the grades in, as some people have suggested...or it is also possible that at the last minute he looked at my Can-8 participation, which is close to zero. That doesn't really make sense though, because last year Alana didn't see any of the videos or do her lab work and she got an A in the class and became the TA. If that is the case though, I'll be glad to make it up, because I've decided it really isn't fair to award two people the same grade when one has done more work than the other, regardless of whether they thought they needed it or not. Yes, I do believe grading people has changed me. Anyway, as soon as this gets cleared up I'm sure I'll get an A in French...Alana entered my grade into the gradebook and she said I had one of the highest, so I'm not too worried.
So, with Finals over and with all the grading done (or most of it anyway...after a certain point I gave up and made Fred do his job) I skipped on home with a car completely full of stuff (most of it Jersy's) and proceeded to
NOT GO TO ARKANSAS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
honestly, I can't tell you how good it felt. It was like I was finally free. I got to go to Midnight Mass for the first time in my life, and I've been Catholic for 19 years! Even non-practicing Catholics get to go to Midnight Mass! For the first time in something like 11 years, I was not the fanfare at Church with my trusty old flute. I was not stuck decorating Methodist churches or singing carols with people I don't know or taking communion that means nothing or having arguments about feminism or taking a guilt trip or being woken up at 9 in the morning to have "breakfast as a family". I was simply able to exist, and relax, and enjoy Christmas. And let me tell you, this was the first year in a *very* long time that I have actually enjoyed Christmas. Up until this year I never liked it at all. I just couldn't get any real meaning from it. I tried and tried and tried but it just never felt sacred to me. I was so very cynical and anti-materialistic that I was in a bad mood from Thanksgiving until, well, Spring. This year though, I didn't even *need* presents. I didn't care at all. There was nothing that I needed in my life that wasn't already there, except of course Kentucky. I just got to drink bourbon and wine and hang out with my family, who are really cool. (I also got to smoke a lil' something with my aunt and uncle on Xmas Eve...heh heh heh...yeah...)
All in all, it was a very very big difference. christmas finally felt "right".
And just so you know, I did end up calling my dad and attempting to wish them a Merry Christmas, but it was *them* that didn't call me back. And it was also *them* that woke me up the next morning asking how my Christmas went, for which I could find no words--at all--because I was half-asleep. Actually, that was my stepmom. And I was quite offended when my dad walked by the phone and told her to tell me Merry Christmas. So I asked my brother if my dad had condemned me to Hell yet, and I think word got around to my Dad, who was driving, that he should call me and let me know he doesn't hate me. He did, but it was one of those conversations that made me feel worse. It was so stilted and forced. He would ask me questions and then not listen to my answers, which offended me more. He shouldn't have even bothered.
Anyway, working in the antique store was fun but I felt really bad because I didn't make any sales the whole week.
I finally feel accepted because I have now officially had dinner chez Fred. It was a really good dinner too, except jeff kept talking and I'm pretty sure wore out our welcome.
Anyway, since Christmas I've been completely relaxing: watching movies and buying things for my trip and counting all this money I didn't even realize I had. I have been incredibly fortunate money-wise, gracias a Dios. I've discovered the reason why I'm at Berea...my KEES money and the New Horizons grant paid all but $150 of my Mexico trip, and that was even before the Room/Board refund. So all this money I worked hard saving up I really won't need unless I become a spending fiend in Mexico. That's a really good feeling. I've decided that a very good strategy for saving money is hanging out with poor people and not offering to buy them anything, so your hang-out time is more creative anyway because you have to think of things to do for free and you don't spend very much. Also, I hid money from myself and kept checks un-deposited and finally started going to food service. that helped a lot.
IN LESS THAN ONE WEEK I'M GOING TO MEXICO!
I cannot even believe it. I am so excited.
oh yeah, so back to the original subject...when I got back to my house for vacation I decided it would be a nice thing to send an email to Sr. Dolor upon the completion of his wisdom tooth surgery (which was set to be without anesthetic and I really was concerned). It was in Spanish, naturally, and although I only half-expected him to reply (due to being drugged out, not checking Berea mail off-campus, etc.) I was, of course, secretly hoping he would. Hell, not secretly, what am I saying? Anyway, to my great surprise he wrote me back within a couple days and we've been regularly emailing back and forth with surprising ease. His poor jaw has been through a lot, and he's been keeping me posted on all this trauma he's been going through. We'll see what develops, as I wrote a pretty long email yesterday with some kind of little flirty sentences (I'm trying to tell him I appreciate him as a person, which I figure is a good start). Nothing to showy or scary. I was, however, a little nervous sending it because once you press send there ain't no going back, and he can choose to have my words forever on the Berea server if he likes, whereas plain spoken words one can (more easily) forget. Needless to say, I'm delighted that he's replying to me and I've been checking my mail every two hours in anticipation, because his emails really do give me so much joy and send me traipsing through the house, giggling and sighing and thanking God that I don't completely repulse him.
Anyway. I have a much better feeling about this than any other romantic encounter I've ever had, but that doesn't stop me from being all nervous and uncomfortable and, as you read above, not able to sleep thinking about him. My stupid imagination creates ten thousand scenarios, none of which are very likely, and then the drama queen in me acts them out. So weird.
Despite all this, if I'm not careful I could seriously fall in over my head. (I like to pretend I haven't known that this whole time. Of course I have. he's the most easy-to-fall-in-love-with guy I've ever met.)
What scares me the most is that when I pray for guidance from God all I hear seems to be: "Either way your heart will be broken."
wow. that sucks. I decided that it would be better to have some nice experiences with him than avoiding it and being Prufrockian and singing I Am A Rock alone in my room. but it doesn't exactly cast a sunny picture on what is to come.
now's not the time to think about that, right?
|Thursday, December 11th, 2003|
|life fits her like an uncomfortable pair of shoes...
Today was rather uneventful and uninteresting, yet I feel an incredible urge to record it.
Do you ever wonder at the end of the day what from that day you will carry with you for the rest of your life? Or whether you'll carry anything with you at all? Imagine--today was entirely uneventful full of things I'm bound to forget. So why am I wasting my time with them?
today I tested alana for the first time with someone else's criticism, hence the title. It reaffirmed my suspicion that if I tell her how I really feel she won't be able to take it as constructive criticism that is coming from a concerned friend but rather as an attack that she automatically needs to combat defensively regardless of whether her defenses are logical at all, or the criticism is the "voice of reason" she says she wants right now. How does one talk logically to a completely illogical person? I talked to my mom and she managed to come up with all sorts of other reasons to be concerned: what's going to happen to the rent when she studies abroad? (she'll still have to pay it...there's no other solution). How is she going to get a lease? How will she still have money to study abroad?
I think one of alana's main problems is that she's just not into sacrifice. Last year I thought she was, but this year there has been hell to pay if she is made to do anything she doesn't want to do. Last year God was first, this year she is. And that makes me wonder. Fred was asking if her faith is superficial, because it sounded to him like she converted because of outside reasons, and not because it was a natural progression for who she really is inside. I can see his point. My mom thinks that it was just another thing (like this apartment) that she thought would make her happy but didn't. I think she might have been hoping for instant gratification or something...that the Church would automatically fill whatever emptiness she feels. I was wondering about why she's unhappy inside...I really think it comes down to how much she values and loves herself. I think also she doesn't really know who she is or what she wants out of life...she can only be sure of what she *doesn't* want. And so, because she's trying to find this stuff out she's reacting so violently to what she knows she doesn't want. That's my hypothesis for now, anyway.
ok, so my other favorite topic.
today danara asked me why I don't just ask el jefe de mi vida out...I had a bit of trouble explaining myself. Although I do think that he is out of my league, and I don't know whether or not he shares my sentiments, those really aren't the reasons...really, it's that I truly feel that something will happen between me and him, but this time I really want to do it right. Before in my life, my self-confidence has almost entirely been derived from how pleasing I am to males. My therapist last year speculated that this was because growing up I never really received much affirmation from my father that I was alright, especially physically. I think her theory could be quite true, but it doesn't really matter anyway. The point is that I know I have this problem and I need to go about working on it from the inside. If I started dating Jeff right now, several bad things might happen. Not only would I receive an initial super confidence boost and then feel the superficiality of it and get depressed and feel unworthy because that confidence was never really there, but since my relationship with God is definitely not what it should be, I would become one big idolatress. I feel like Jeff and I do have some sort of connection that goes beyond what we have in common, but there are a few things I need to work out in my life before I make any moves, because I simply do not want to lose him, and once we go beyond friendship there's no real going back, no matter how much either of us fake it. I need to first concentrate on God and His will (sorry if I sound clichéd...) and I'm pretty sure everything else will fall into place. I will then realize how wonderful a person I am without someone with a penis there to make me think so. Then I will begin to love myself, so that someone can love me.
I feel pretty good about these decisions that I'm making. Before in my romantic life I've jumped too soon when any guy even looked at me sideways. I can't do that this time, because Jeff is simply too good of a person for me to drag into the mess that I feel is my current state.
Of course, all this dedication to being virtuous does have its downsides, especially when ashley and danara emphasized that all this time wasted I could have been making out with him. Thanks, guys.
omg...here I am in the Spanish office and right across from my window is Jeff's room and someone is shirtless! I see skin! Whether its his roommate or him, they're both pretty hot.
I'm not looking. Not looking. Not....looking...dammit!!!
I think God is laughing at me right now.
|Sunday, December 7th, 2003|
|rapidly spinning madly out of control!
this weekend, although I fully intended to do much work, I have done nothing homework-wise. And you know what? It feels perfectly nice.
No matter how much I put stuff off, I still get everything done that I need to get done, and I know that I do, so that just makes me put stuff off more because I know I'll get it done at almost any cost. Why I do this to myself is beyond me. It's like every day is a struggle, but it's with myself so there's noone to blame.
So yeah. I have a ton of work to do and I've been mainly ignoring it and not really even thinking about how I'm going to get it done. Then when I think of the montón that awaits me, I do tend to feel like my life is not being controlled by me. And yeah, it shouldn't be, because with me completely controlling my life it would soon fall completely apart, but I would like to have at least *some* say in how my life is run.
Anyway, more with the ignorance.
The main preoccupation of my life, other than my life itself, is *surprise* my roommate. I am preoccupied because I am genuinely concerned about her, as I have been all semester, really. I just don't feel like she's being practical about things, and she seems to be living in some kind of fantasy world and not seeing practical aspects of life that she refuses to see even if I put them in front of her face! I do *not* believe that everything will be solved and she will be happy if she gets her own apartment. She could barely handle the financial strain of her term bill this semester...how is she going to have an apt.? And she absolutely refuses to have a pre-furnished one, so she PUT A DOWN PAYMENT ON AN ENTERTAINMENT CONSOLE! Without even having an apt. beforehand! She took $2000 out of her CD, which was supposed to be for Study Abroad, to buy all this furniture crap. She thinks the college is going to give her enough money for rent, which I don't believe.
But the financial side is not even what I am most worried about. I'm afraid she's going to start having to worry about real things and then she's going to realize that she really didn't want to deal with that after all, and this whole I'm-depressed-from-living-in-a-dorm thing is just an excuse for a deeper problem. She's going to be locked away in that apartment, never seeing anyone else and not being involved in anything...the only outcome I can see is that she'll become lonely and depressed. And any friends she might have had will no longer be there. I mean, I feel a tad bit like she's abandoning me, and after she gets this wonderful apartment I'll go down and visit her and perhaps spend the night, but I *will* have my own life and I'm not sure how willing I'll be to console her when she discovers that what she thought she wanted really just made her more unhappy.
I mean, really. Sometimes life sucks. And you have to deal with that suckiness because life will not always suck. Anyone who thinks they are owed something because of their unhappiness need to be slapped because there are people in this world who are much worse off. I can kind of understand why Alana feels coddled...I do too. I don't have a clue about how to start my life after I graduate from here. And I'm not exactly happy about that, but I figure I'll be able to survive for the very short period I am here. Getting an apartment is not going to make her feel like she's making the most of her life, I suspect. It will instead drain her money (which is unnecessary) and make her have no friends (which is also unnecessary). And there will always, now and forever, be things for her to be pissed off about. What will happen when her car, now over 200,000 miles, runs out? What happens when she is no longer able to make ends meet? How will being "independent" help then?
I think she's being irrational, but she won't listen to a word of reason I say. And it's not that I want her to get hurt, but I feel like that's the only way she'll learn some of these lessons that are glaringly obvious to everyone else except her. So this is painful. I know that she doesn't have to get hurt, but that also seems like the only way, and I love her and watching her get hurt is going to suck just as much as (irrationally) feeling abandoned.
She's also dead set on *living* with her boyfriend next year, because he's going to either go to EKU or Berea. How many different ways can I say "THIS IS A BAD IDEA!" Not only is it a bad idea, but it is backed up with many reasons that I'm not even going to go into. I'm just very scared of what's going to happen to her and to their relationship.
Meanwhile, I'm vainly searching for a roommate for next year. Next semester is already beyond my control, I guess. Either they will move someone in with me or they won't. I think I'll ask Jersy but she might want to stay with LeAnn because she has a very strong wish to not abandon her. We'll see what happens I guess.
Tomorrow I can't go to the Lennon tribute or church. Fred has seemingly ruined my life by scheduling this meeting. I am superpsyched about going to Mexico, though. Every time I think about it I can't stop smiling. It will be so hard to come back. So very hard.
And I know that everyone will groan if I write about my favorite subject...but since I already missed Jeff a lot over Thanksgiving I don't know what I'm going to do. And we're not even going out! I am truly scared about what's happening to me...but in another way I'm not. The reasons why I'm not really pursuing him right now are a)I'm sick of trusting someone and then finding out how much of an asshole they are (no more dating without being friends first) b)I don't love myself enough for someone to love me and c)my relationship with God is not strong enough to support other relationships right now. I figure those are three pretty strong reasons that will allow me to not make some tragic mistake (I consider eric to be one giant mistake) even though I believe the only mistake I could make with jeff would be letting him slip away.
Let me here record that last week two wonderful things happened with him...I straightened my hair and he said not only that I looked nice but that it was exciting...and during our meeting on Thursday we had to take a group picture and even though we were originally not next to each other he grabbed me and hugged me! I was so shocked it made my day!
(hint hint ashley...you should invite him to your party! haha...of course I would say that...I don't know if you'd want to do that though...he did see you smoke last time...hahahahahaha)
dude...the old navy commercials on the Spanish channel are SO much better. They have a mariachi band and everything!
well, I'm going back up to my room now where my internet does NOT work (grrr) and probably go to bed.
Have a wonderful last day of classes! Current Mood: confused
|Sunday, November 23rd, 2003|
This morning during church I felt this strange, instantaneous, pure and unbridled joy. It was weird. It's like I rediscovered my existence or something.
In any case, things have been pretty happy lately, possibly due to the fantastic weather, and my actually getting stuff accomplished. For the past, uh, two or three weeks or so I've been freaking out, mainly due to my project for FRN 140 and my paper for Western Trads. I felt rather hopeless, but I managed to finish both of those with good comments from both teachers, buy the new Beatles album, AND look really good today. It was nice.
The Western Trads paper was, I thought, total crap. I had planned beforehand to procrastinate, so I guess it wasn't really procrastination, and so I stumbled into the Spanish office (the best place to get stuff done) at 4:30 with my coffee and dried fruit snack things, intent on not leaving until I had written it. Oh yeah, and I had 10 books, none of which I had even cracked. Then I looked inside them and they were near incomprehensible...either assuming the reader knew Arabic, Hebrew, Greek, or Latin, or using long English words that I've never heard of, at least in *that* context. Like pneumatic. What the hell does that mean? And it was in every single one of those freakin articles! And so I started panicking realizing that there's not too much I can say about God that hasn't already been said. But I did get something coherent pounded out and my teacher actually told me that it is 'very strong work'. I'm assuming that's a good thing, and I'm not going to worry anymore about it until the final draft is due, which is the 17th. That allows for much procrastination.
And then the 140 project is from Hell...I worked and worked and worked nonstop on that stupid thing for longer than I had planned to...and then when I was almost done my laptop decides not to display any of the pictures so I had to redo them ALL...grrr. But, in the end, Dr. Watkins said that I had exceeded her expectations and she extended the deadline for me to turn it in, because it's already 90% done and I just need to do Works Consulted. That's right, it's still NOT DONE, but she told me not to stress out about it over Thanksgiving, which I'll try not to do.
dude, for Thanksgiving my mom and aunt Linda are getting a huge fried turkey from Popeye's. I've never had one, and I've been curious to try one, but DAMN. An entire turkey. Deep-fried. AND injected with butter. I've decided I'm going to have to starve myself this week just so I can allow myself to partake. From here on out, it will only be salads.
My mom has gone on the low-carb diet and has already lost 10 pounds in one week. I'm still really skeptical of it. How can it possibly be healthy? It cuts out fruits! But my mom still eats fruits, she's just doing without most bread things...even though she found some special kind of low-carb bread. She said it's not so hard to cut carbs out once you do it completely for a while, but I don't see how she resists stuff like biscuits. Biscuits will be my downfall.
Did you know a fig newton has 30 grams of carbohydrates?
Today I stayed in a skirt all day, which I haven't done in a loooong time, and thanks to my control top pantyhose I looked pretty hot. I think the one thing I'm lacking is confidence, really. I have the power to do everything I want to do, but I just don't believe that. But I really have the most fun when I'm not thinking at all about my appearance, so I'm going to try and do that more often.
I had to teach Fred's class again on Friday with Alice and, although I thought they were nicer, I still realize that teaching takes a lot of patience and understanding, which I don't think I have enough of now.
Lately I've been thinking...I feel like all this education and everything is really just occupying myself until I can do what I really want to do, which is have children, although that sounds totally strange. I can't help but think of all those ladies of the women's lib movement that so valiently fought so that women wouldn't *have* to stay home, but that just makes me feel guilty. I think that would be the best possible thing I could do with my life. I wouldn't feel imprisoned or chained, because raising a child right is making the ultimate difference in the world. So Fred told me last year that I'm the kind of student that should get their PhD...what would be the point if I spent all this money and have it feel like I'm not even really accomplishing anything? Yes, I would be studying what I love, but I can do that anywhere. Oh well...maybe I will feel differently later on. I don't plan on quitting my studies anytime soon, it just seems like getting a PhD is such a drastic and intense move, especially when I consider that I will never be qualified enough to teach to my liking, because no matter how hard I try I just won't be a native speaker, and they have the most authority on usage, which I will never have.
Saturday I went to Somer's birthday party...Somer (pronounced Summer) is the baby my cousin Whitney had at 13 my senior year. It was kind of surreal...I hadn't seen either of them since the baby was born and suddenly everybody is calling my 15-year-old cousin "Mama". Strange.
So now my cousin is on birth control...I would think that she wouldn't be having sex after giving birth, but I guess she is. That totally astounds me. Why is sex so important? Why do people become such slaves to it? I guess that because I've never had it I can't fully know what I'm talking about, but that to me, is the greatest defense. *I* have never had sex, and I've been living fine without it. It is nowhere near necessary for life, and anyone who thinks it is is selfish, I think.
Anyway, enough of that.
On the romance front, nothing is happening, except I've been flirting quite a bit, and Jeff flirts also...at least, it's what one could interpret as flirting, which makes me feel happy. I still think he's so fine and the thought of being around him makes me so smiley and weird and I love the feeling. The thought distracts me from my normal pissed-off attitude, which is nice. Today I started dancing around. There is simply not enough dancing in the sunshine in this world. I think the thing about him is he reminds me of the things I like about myself, and makes me aspire to be a better person, which can't be bad. I wish I could be around him all the time.
ok, this is enough bitching. I must remind myself in my next entry to talk about my dad. Current Mood: cheerful
|Monday, November 3rd, 2003|
|Komm, Gib Mir Deine Hand!
Just a quick note to immortalize my roommate concerns. I honestly don't know what to do. I know Alana hates it here, and is getting depressed, but it's really like she's a different person. She didn't sleep here last night and she's not sleeping here tonight and I just don't understand these words that are coming out of her mouth. She's starting to get really mean and really selfish. When I first got asked to sing at St. Clare's, she promised me that she would support me and help me in whatever I did...she comes in declaring today that she cannot accompany me anymore, that next time I'll play the guitar and she'll sing along (and she *knows* she a much better piano player than I am guitar player) simply because she's "not getting anything out of it" and feels like she's just doing it for other people. Excuse me! Is that not the point of ministry, or even community service?!? Of course she's doing it for other people, and of course it should be a sacrifice or else it would be meaningless. I tried to tell her today that that is the nature of community service but I don't think she really listened to me. I think that if she's going to be that selfish and not think about either God or the people she is aiding to worship God, she might as well not do it at all, because she's obviously got a very skewed perspective on what she's doing. Not only do I think it would be good to have piano (because just about every other cantor plays guitar) but I especially want her to accompany me because we can communicate and read each other and practice when it's convenient for us, as often or as rarely as we want. So in this way I feel abandoned...which is exactly the way I thought I *wouldn't* feel with this friendship, because both of us have been abandoned many times, we both know what it feels like, and it seemed like we had some sort of mutual understanding.
I just feel like with the attitude she has now, she will continue to be unhappy, and she will perpetuate her unhappiness, because she will continue to find the negative in every situation.
I don't know what to do. How can I possibly make her life easier? I don't really see how she's as unhappy as she is because there are simple things she could do to increase her happiness, and I don't see how that's not evident to her. She seems just happier being a total bitch (which *everyone* is calling her now sin excepción) than being kind...today she was speaking in French and I asked a simple question and she responded "oh I forget that when I speak you don't understand me." At least, that is what I understood...and she said it in a really awful way.
No matter how much more important orgasms are than friends, she should be careful. Current Mood: confused
|Sunday, November 2nd, 2003|
Right now I'm feeling extremely accomplished. I doubted that I was going to be able to pull everything off I needed to do but here I am, getting to go to bed early. YIPPEE!!!
I had a lot of fun Saturday, even though noone thought I was dressed up, which was kind of dissapointing considering how many hours I put into dreaming up a costume (which ended up being just a revival of an oldie but goodie--can't go wrong with mom's hippie clothes). It was really fun ignoring both Eric and Petar and busting a move to Ace of Base (and flirting my little ass off with Jeff, of course). That's what I call a party. I was kind of dissapointed in my liquor choice, because it ended up being really nasty, but I guess that was a good thing, considering how easy it was to get up this morning (ok not easy...easiER than it would have been had I drank that whole bottle). I think now it tastes like cough syrup. It was pretty strange that I was having such a good time NOT under the influence.
So yeah, I was kind of worried last night even though I wasn't drunk because I got to bed an hour after I had planned, and the latest I could possibly get up was 7 this morning, and I had no idea what my voice was going to sound like, but Alana and I ended up rocking the house and you can be damn sure those people appreciated it. How funny that last year my name just didn't end up on the right lists to cantor, even though I genuinely wanted to and this year they come begging at my feet for me to help them. I got pretty nervous this morning, but, surprisingly, the fact that Jeff was in the congregation made me feel really good, especially considering that at the party last night I had to remind him about church in the morning. I told him at that party he *had* to come and morally support me singing in front of everyone...and I really kind of doubted he was going to because he slept all day yesterday and was really kind of confused as to what time/day it was...and then I found out later that he went home and did HOMEWORK after the party, and drank a bunch of cough syrup to make himself sleepy, and finally got to sleep around 4. So I was really surprised after hearing that story that he had made it. He even complimented me too! I hope the beams from my glowing smile are not keeping anyone awake! (haha) And yes, the flirting did commence again this morning...:). He probably thinks I was really drunk when I really wasn't because I really did just throw my caution to the wind(I wouldn't have been able to even stand up with *those* shoes had I been intoxicated). He said this morning that because he knew he had all this work to do he didn't want to intoxicate himself...so I guess he does get drunk sometimes and he's not ethically opposed to it or anything(Ashley and I were debating his feelings on the issue last night).
I can't wait to see the pictures we took. Those are going to be hilarious.
Jeff and I were talking this morning about how parties bring random people together that wouldn't necessarily hang out in any other place or time. He thought it was pretty improbable that that conglomeration of people in our entourage last night (I'd never had an entourage! That was exciting!) would gather together again. It was a nice group though, very fun. I wonder if the fun-ness was mostly the alcohol, the environment, our strange costumes, or all of those.
Petar was really being strange. He came up to me and straight up asked me about my love life with really no preceding conversation. I'm glad that I didn't really tell him anything...mainly I just repeated "What?" and "Why?" and he just kept telling me not to get the wrong idea, and if I had someone I could write hot Spanish love poetry to this year. I think I said I kind of did but I wasn't really definitive.
I'm glad I managed to ditch Eric early in the evening. I had a hunch he was going to be there . When I first got there he would come up to me and tell me random statements about his life: "Yeah, so I'm working at Subway." "Shea is my housemate." "I'm going to start substitute teaching." assuming that I cared. That's really arrogant, to assume someone cares and start informing them about yourself when they don't ask. It scares me he's going to start substitute teaching, mainly because I had turned 18 about 10 days before we started dating, which is the normal age for high school seniors...and the fact that he was so "interested" in me can only mean one thing: he'll be sexually attracted to his students!! ewwww!! It's so weird...when I was in the public school system I had no idea what my teachers were up to at night. It can only make me wonder.
Anyway, that conversation with him was rather unpleasant, but I guess it's just one of those things you have to do. After all, patience is a virtue, and I can see how he got the false impression that I cared because I was so persistent in forcing him to keep his word and be friends with me last spring, when that really had nothing to do with him as an individual, but the principle of lying to people to get what you want, which he does and I hate. He is honestly one of the most selfish people I know. I guess you can't just correct intrinsic behaviors overnight...
yeah, so after church I was very very tired so I took a nap...and should have set some sort of alarm but didn't and ended up sleeping for three and a half hours or something like that. Then I had to drag my ass to the library and look for all these stupid books for my western trads class, and make an outline and a bibliography. It seems so stupid to me to do this, because in my head before I write a paper I make an outline anyway...but I can't possibly know what sources are actually going to go into my paper so why even bother with a bibliography beforehand? This paper isn't even due for like a month and a half. I feel like I'm being babied...like my professor has to watch over my shoulder at every step to make sure I'm ok...and I kind of resent that. If I prefer to write papers at the last minute, why can't he let me do that? As Danara pointed out, the end result will most likely be the same.
Well, I really do have to go to sleep. Have to give a Spanish test in the morning at 8 in the freakin' morning (why do classes exist that early?!) I'm really nervous about teaching this week but I think it will end up being fun and really good experience. I got my long-ass Spanish paper back corrected. I am still proud that I managed to write 5 pages...the longest paper I've ever written in Spanish, although I really hate the mistakes I made. I think they are significantly fewer than last year, but they are really simple Spanish 1 errors like ser and estar and por and para. Fred sent us this email that said he was amazed at our insights and that they were "amazingly well-written". riiiight. I'm not sure mine was either, but I'm eager to talk with him about it.
Aaron said I speak French like a bitch. He said that every time he hears me speak French I get this little bitchy attitude. I think that's hilarious, and I can see his point now that he has pointed it out to me several times (there you go again with that bitch voice!). It just strikes me as really funny to have one language for a certain emotion: "today I will speak in Spanish because I'm feeling spicy. Tomorrow will be German because it looks like thunderstorms are on their way. I'm penciling French in for next week when I have to close my bank account." (ok, maybe that's only funny to me...)
Current Mood: accomplished
|Tuesday, October 28th, 2003|
|quizás mi jefe esté loco....
Today has been strange. I know that the moon isn't full, so I can't really figure out why.
Today Fred was in a seriously strange mood. He would get really serious at times and really critical of me, then excruciatingly self-deprecating (he said the one good thing about his life was that it would be forgettable and not tax people's brains having to remember him) then he would get really sarcastic, then he would be nice for a little while, and this was all *completely* random. How am I supposed to deal? Jeff thinks that Fred is bipolar. That sounds about right.
Anyway, today he asked me if *I* would teach his 101 class next week. I just kind of sat there in awe, not comprehending. He has to go to Mexico for most of next week to check on the Police down there and make sure everything is running ok, and said that I could either work with Alice or do it alone, and that it would give me good experience (I guess he really believes I'm going to be a teacher---imagine that. Me, a bona fide teacher.) He started out by asking me if I would like to teach a 101 class. I had no idea what this was regarding so I had to ask "in college?" (yes, I do sound dumb like that in real life.) I thought possibly he was asking me some philosophical question, because he does do that an awful lot, but then he really proposed the idea. I don't even know what to think. I a)have no formal teaching experience and b)am younger than most of the people in that class. It seems like it would be easier to tell people what to do if I were older, maybe a little more authoritative, and if I really felt confident in my language knowledge, but I can I expect them to take me seriously when I don't even take *myself* seriously. Where does Fred get this idea that I am capable of this?
I just can't believe it. I'm so honored, and I don't really understand why he trusts me with this (he actually said those words too--I trust you with this. dude.)
This is so momentous, and I'm so scared, I really just keep forgetting it happened. In Psych we talked about how the body reacts the same way to stress, whether it is good stress or bad stress, so I suppose this is good stress and I'm just reacting as if it's a really traumatic experience (because, in a way, it is).
Also today I had asked him about a time that's convenient for him concerning our theoretical special super secret get-together time with Jeff and Alice, and the conversation quickly turned into a speech about the true theological meaning of wanting, including a lesson on marriage. I had a lot to say after this speech, but somehow, I couldn't say any of it. I just sat there, somewhere between a smile and a frown, with a million thoughts running through my head, as Fred stared at me expecting a response. I don't know how he gets the impression that I'm somewhat intelligent, because I never seem to say anything of value, or with any kind of thought behind it, at least compared with the stuff he says. Talking with him, it becomes painfully clear that I'm really young and sometimes stupid and frequently irrational. At least, that's the impression I get of myself. And he's got so many years behind him, and known so many students, that I don't get why I'm in any way special, because I guess I expect him to have seen and heard and known everything possible. But I suppose that this is the case with everybody that one meets.
It's strange, but I use the passive voice so much more when speaking other languages. I wonder why.
The word didgeridoo is really funny. And right now on Sharon Osbourne some hot guy is playing one.
|Friday, October 24th, 2003|
|sad-eyed lady of the looooowlands
today was rather annoying because I was really pumped that Joe was going to go get fried chicken with me, but he really didn't have any money, so I walked freakin' everywhere with him, so he could check his account balance (which was $4 or something like that)and then go back and get his checkbook and then take him to Wal-Mart to see if he could write a check and get cash back there, and all the while he is seeing people and talking and my eating time is delayed by three hours until he gives up and won't even drive in the car with me to Richmond to get some Indi's even though it's because of him I'm dying of hunger. He didn't even really apologize, either, and he still owes me $20. He was bitching about people not paying him back but I figured I wouldn't press the issue. Confrontation never gets me anywhere.
So I did go get some fried chicken by myself. Although it was damn good, it occurred to me driving home that driving a total of 30 miles for some spicy chicken alone on a Friday night is kind of sad. I never really expected to be doing this with my life in college.
I know that everyone around me is getting sick and tired of hearing me bitch about myself, but it's really something that I don't understand, or else I would try to change it. I mean, *I've* been getting sick of myself. I keep telling myself that I can't bitch about a lack of respect, or someone not liking me, if I don't do either of those things, but I don't really listen to the positive things I try to tell myself (or those anyone else tells me, for that matter). I can't really complain about not having a boyfriend, either, because I know that I'm not at all in a stable, good, emotional state that would seem like a necessary foundation. Plus, I'm scared shitless of rejection. Even though in reality I wouldn't be losing anything and would end up just where I started, if someone I really liked rejected me it would really destroy me. And even if I didn't get rejected, I would feel happy and not-so-worthless for a while, but ultimately it would be superficial and once that relationship or fling or whatever was over I would be worse off.
It was really strange today going to Frost Cottage with Joe (twice--yes, I got the pleasure of going TWICE). This time last year, I was very happy going over there and I was happy to be in a relationship and happy to be in college, and really just happy to be me. Makes me really wonder what happened.
I'm presently terrified of a few things. First of all, I've been telling (without abandon, really) an awful lot of people that I like Jeff, but have been neglecting to mention that to him. I realized the other day that this is Berea and anything you say about *anybody* at any given time will eventually get back to them. This happened in high school...and kicked me in the ass in a major way...and I'm really afraid Jeff will get more and more freaked out if I *don't* tell him.
I'm also afraid that everybody on this campus thinks I'm crazy. I'm afraid that I'm crazy. Current Mood: cynical
|Thursday, October 23rd, 2003|
|no encuentro nada nada nada
These past couple days I'm feeling increasingly purposeless. I don't really see the point of myself. It's like I've been stuck in the world of Prufrock: I only want to sit in my room and not do anything because everything I seem to do or say has some kind of negative consequences.
I did really bad on my FRN 140 test. I guess it's because I did well on the last one, and I didn't expect it to be that detailed. Even so, I'm glad Mme. is not rubbing it in my face like she could.
Today Alana asked me to be her maid of honor at her wedding in four years. It was kind of strange. Whenever I have invited someone to be a part of my future wedding they end up leaving my life (by their own choosing, of course) within a matter of weeks or months. I've decided that from now on I'm not inviting anybody to be a part of my wedding until I at *least* have a boyfriend. (haha)
I keep getting mixed signals from Jeff and it's pissing me off. I'm just about ready to not like him anymore, even though it really is kind of fun. I *swear* that bowling Thursday night he was flirting with me, and Jersy reported that he kept staring when my back was turned. And yet, the next day there was nothing of the sort. I don't want this year to be a repeat of senior year, although I kind of feel the same way. I really just don't know how adults express to each other this kind of sentiment.
He does kind of annoy me sometimes, though, because if I ask him to clarify a word, it's not because I don't know what it means, it's because I have no idea why he's saying that word. Tuesday he said Jersy was smoking. I never did find out what he meant. I guess people just get this attitude when they're used to being the best. I would have that attitude too, probably, if I weren't so freakin' intimidated by him and how cute and smart he is.
I get to go play the Sims now!! yes! Current Mood: amused
|Wednesday, October 15th, 2003|
|Here it comes: the first emotional breakdown of the season!
today peaked with an emotional breakdown when I went into work. All of the semester's frustrations culminated with megatears and a tirade against Berea...I knew it would happen someday...leave it to my period to bring it all out.
What really started everything was Dr. Meadows...today we learned about using direct objects with reflexive verbs in the past tense.
Hier soir, je me suis brossé les dents.
This stuff is really easy and boring. Well, in the middle of the lesson Dr. Meadows was talking about agreement and how you really should make agreement if you have a preceding direct object pronoun like this:
Hier soir, je me les suis brossés.
which is really not hard either...but he then erased all of it and said "oh but that's just too confusing and I would never ask you to do that".
I was really offended. Why even start on a subject just to tell the class we'll get too confused? It's not even that hard! It's like telling us that we're not smart enough to handle this.
Not only was I pissed off because of that, but if he made it any harder, everyone in my class would start freaking out.
I'm surrounded by frickin' idiots!
So I don't feel like I'm learning, no matter how much I try to teach myself, I can't teach myself that which I don't know!
So I went into work really really pissed off...fresh from a bitchy conversation at lunch with Bruce, with whom I always bitch about stuff.
So I was just sitting there, thinking about things, and tears start streaming down my face uncontrollably. Fred comes out and, obviously concerned, asks me to elaborate on what I had been talking to him about earlier (French).
So, my pouring of frustrations continued, and began to include every frustration about this college and the quality of learning that goes on. I realized the other day that the graduation requirements for my high school were harder than the requirements here. That's saying something. That's not what I expected of college at all.
And then Fred, Carlevale and I just go into a tirade about the College and its identity crisis, really.
the thing that probably pisses me off the most is the song and dance number that they went through because of my ACT score, which isn't even really that great. But when I came on a tour here I specifically asked if I would be challenged, and they specifically told me yes. And that, my friends, is what they call a lie.
So Fred is really concerned about me and offered to get together with me and a few other serious students maybe once or twice a week and talk all in Spanish and get some really good vocabulary and have to identify people from history and stuff, because he believes that this is something that needs to be dealt with NOW. NOW because I'm a sophomore and feel that I'm stagnating and there also happen to be rather frustrated serious students out there. I just...I just miss how I used to be...I used to be so excited about learning Spanish and I would teach myself words and try every means possible to improve myself and now, increasingly, I just don't care anymore because I've lost hope of being bilingual, because every single time I talk I realize that I don't know shit, and then I don't want to talk because every grammatical error haunts me. And I still don't even really feel like I can write papers well.
So. Jeff, Alice, and I are going to have a super-intensive class. Cool. Anything that allows me to be study buddies with you-know-who is ok in my book...heh heh heh...oh and now when I'm in Fred's office I can only speak in Spanish. It will be a lot of pressure, but I think it will be good. It will be the good kind of pressure. Fred explained that in language learning we often go up and up and are excited and everything and then we plateau and realize how much we don't know and we either have to will ourselves up to the next level or someone has to push us. So I just need a little push, I guess.
|Tuesday, October 14th, 2003|
|the end of low-rise jeans!
this is not written by me, but it could very well have been:
Has America's low-rise obsession gone too far?
By Amanda Fortini
Updated Friday, October 10, 2003, at 12:25 PM PT
America is in the throes of a crack epidemic. Sitting in a booth with a friend at an excruciatingly hip restaurant in downtown Manhattan a few weeks ago, I glanced up to see a fleshy forest of crevices and multiple folds of skin and G-strings that three women in their late 20s were displaying for the world. It was then that I knew: This low-rider style has gone too far.
On the street, on television, even in the office, women of all ages and sizes are wearing tight, low-slung, butt-hugging jeans and pants that hit at, or often far below, the hip. The trend isn't new—it began around '95 or so—but what is new are the unlovely depths to which the pants have now, as it were, sunk. The crotch-to-waist measurement, or rise, on a standard pair of jeans (the sort we haven't seen much of since the early '90s) is somewhere between 10 and 12 inches. Early low-riders had a rise of about 7 inches. Over the past couple of years, the rise has dipped as low as 3 or 4 inches. Low-rise, it seems, has become synonymous with no-rise. Gasoline, a Brazilian company, has even created Down2There jeans, which feature a bungee cord that allows the wearer to lower her pants as she sees fit, as though adjusting a set of Venetian blinds.
Usually paired with midriff-baring shirts—even tops that aren't cropped can't cover the exposed expanse of abdominal flesh—the jeans have redefined our collective understanding of cleavage. Then there's the oft-visible G-string that, like a bra strap, creates strange fleshy bulges as it strains against the body. But there are worse bulges yet. These are the love handles that materialize on even the thinnest women—models and anorexics excepted—because the jeans hit a woman's body at its fleshiest point, below the hips, just above the buttocks. Of course, the feminist in me wants to applaud the insouciance with which women of all shapes now flaunt their imperfections, but the aesthete in me objects. This is a style that suits only 12-year-olds and celebrities who have the luxury of devoting entire afternoons to sculpting their obliques. For the rest of us, wearing these jeans is like putting our hips and buttocks in some humiliating reality show.
Yet the real problem with extremely low-riding pants is that they're impractical. Sitting is difficult: If you can't find a chair with a closed back, you have to tie a shirt around your waist—always highly attractive—or risk scandalizing the room. If you drop something, or need to tie your shoe, abandon all hope; bending over with dignity is next to impossible. You must perfect the art of squatting, back straight, head up, as though preparing to curtsy. Low-riders also tend to slide down, requiring the wearer to hitch them up repeatedly. In their way, low-rider jeans bear a creepy similarity to Chinese foot-binding—they constrict a woman's action, rendering her ornamental. And like foot-binding, the jeans can have deleterious medical consequences. In 2001, the Canadian Medical Association Journal published a doctor's report stating that low-rise jeans can cause a condition called meralgia paresthetica, characterized by numbness or tingling in the thighs, by pinching a nerve located at the hip. Left untreated, the numbness can become permanent. Forget the question of style: This is a human rights issue.
So, how did we go so low? In America, the first low-rise jeans, called hip-huggers, became popular during the late '60s, with the ascendance of the hippie counterculture and rock 'n' roll. Icons of rock like Jimi Hendrix and Jim Morrison helped to popularize the style. In the '70s, the pants went mainstream and became a staple of disco culture—people danced "The Hustle" in their Wrangler hip-huggers. In the late '70s and early '80s, waistlines moved higher as the culture, and fashion, grew increasingly conservative. Throughout the '80s and into the '90s, as more women entered the corporate workforce, the high waist continued to reign. Even Madonna, who arguably is responsible for today's exposed abdomens, didn't wear low-rise. In pictures of her from that decade, her hip bones are always covered by the waistband of her pants.
Then, around 1992, Alexander McQueen sent models down the runway in his shockingly low-slung "Bumsters." In 1995, Tom Ford's first (and wildly popular) collection for Gucci included his now-famous velvet hip-hugger suit, worn by Madonna, among other celebrities. By the mid-'90s, hip-huggers had infiltrated popular culture: Juliette Lewis wore a red pair in Natural Born Killers and Mark Wahlberg memorably peeled his off in Boogie Nights. But it took Britney, Christina, and Jennifer Lopez to bring the style, riding lower than ever, back into the mainstream over the past five years.
By the time a trend hits malls across America, high fashion is already calling it déclassé. Vogue declared low-rise pants over in May 2002, and that spring Tom Ford himself showed a trouser with a higher waist, wider legs, and dropped crotch. In spring 2003, several other designers showed high-waisted pants for fall. And in August 2003, Sarah Jessica Parker, an arbiter of style, told Vogue that she doesn't consider low-rise pants to be age-appropriate for a woman like herself.
It usually takes only a couple of months for a trend to go from the fashion magazines to the streets, and yet somehow, like the G-strings it popularized, this trend clings tenaciously on. It could be that the pants are a feminist statement, demanding as they do an ecumenical embrace of body type by wearer and viewer alike, and as such, women are loathe to abandon them. It could be that the dark fissures and peek-a-boo undies they reveal are physical emblems of our confessional culture, the sartorial equivalent of the tell-all memoir. It could simply be that letting your belly hang free is comfortable. Or that women, buying these pants for lack of choice, have unwittingly created a false sense of demand. But the strongest argument for the persistence of the trend might simply be that we want to dress like the '70s because we feel like we're starring in a reprise of that decade: Our economy is bad; we're entrenched in an occupation abroad; we mistrust our government at home.
I'm not advocating that we abandon this style in favor of Katharine Hepburn-type trousers belted just below the rib cage. As a fashionable friend recently said, low-slung trousers, with their rock 'n' roll connotations, simply look "groovier." But moderately low-rise pants can be worn with style and class. There's a famous photograph of Jackie Kennedy Onassis, taken by the celebrity photographer Ron Galella in the early '70s. In it, Jackie walks along a Manhattan street, holding only her keys. The wind musses her hair, and she looks over her shoulder at the camera. Perhaps surprisingly, she is wearing hip-huggers with a slim-fitting ribbed knit sweater. Not surprisingly, she bares no midriff. And a G-string is nowhere in sight.
|Saturday, October 11th, 2003|
|leaves that are green turn to brown...
...yes, it is true, in case anybody had any doubts.
today I had more fun in lexington than I've had in the past few weeks here. What's up with that? Of course, if I lived again in lex. for any extended period of time it wouldn't be nearly as exciting, because whenever I visit now I cram lots of fun things into a limited amount of time, and I don't have time to be bored or complain.
The drive home was really strange. At first I was praying and then of course I got distracted by my own thoughts, which I never really understand how that happens, and I started making up a song about my roommate frustrations that sounded suspiciously like the Doors' "People are Strange" but it ended up being pretty cool, and maybe I can work it around so that it doesn't sound so obviously plagiarized. I just don't understand how Alana can be so miserable all the frickin' time when she is supposedly in love. It seems like that would be great, even if she can't be around him every minute, especially because she's so insecure and has been treated so badly in the past. Maybe I'm grossly overestimating love, or generalizing it too much, but I just really cannot comprehend how she bitches CONSTANTLY about missing him...and even when she is talking to him on the phone or physically with him, she's still miserable because she knows that time will not last. So, why is she sacrificing ruining her relationship with her mom (because seeing him means staying at home, and that involves a variety of complicated bad home-life situations)and straining her relationship with me (although maybe she doesn't see it that way) to not even really be satisfied? I mean, I guess that when she is with him she is happier than being without him, but I still don't really see the point. I would like to slap some sense into her. The other day I quite simply said: "At least you have somebody." And she asked if I was telling her to shut up (but not in a bitchy confrontational way) and I said "in not so many words". That did shut her up for a while, but eventually this exact same situation will repeat.
I had a lot of fun avoiding the room on Thursday, but I don't know how many more of these Thursday nights I can take, because I never do make up the sleep I lose, and it is really really imposing on people to demand that they take pity on me and hang out on Thursday night because I don't have anything to do. The next time this happens I think I'll go work out...you know, actually make something useful of myself, and then they'll kick me out of Seabury and I'll *have* to go back to the room. I think Alana felt guilty in the morning because she made me tea when I woke up because I was, naturally, feeling like crap.
ok, I am here and now making an official decree: I will now only eat salad at food service! I have no idea how I've managed to gain weight when I've only been eating lunch at food disservice, have been staying away (for the most part) from cheese and fatty stuff and eating mostly ramen or tortilla chips for dinner. I've even been eating Slim-Fast bars for breakfast! Maybe it was all the alcohol I drank the other weekend. Stupid alcohol. All those calories and not even a good buzz to show for it. Just trouble pronouncing words, which happens to me all the time.
It is really embarrassing when I go out with my mom and she introduces me to people that are Hispanic and says "Come on Mary Ashley, say something!" It's like I'm five again and she's asking me to do a little dance or something for the amusement of her friends. It's especially embarrassing when a)I'm so tired I can barely speak English and b)I get nervous and speak really fast and end up saying gibberish because I'm mixing up syllables and all kinds of words and then I feel like an idiot and they kind of give me this mystified, glazed-eye look. And of course my grammatical errors will haunt me for eternity. I don't know why I get so worked up...after all, I am still learning, and I do know more Spanish than your average Gringo, but I guess I'm terrified that in the real world, being a Spanish major actually implies something having to do with a command of the language. Maybe not, though...after meeting that chick who got a B.A. in Spanish from UK...anything is possible. It pisses me off that on paper, she looks more qualified than me, yet her Spanish is atrocious and when she goes to Mexico with the Police Corps she's just going to end up getting into trouble, I can feel it. She is responsible for my and Bruce's favorite word now: Quisiero. It does not exist in Spanish, and that's probably why it's so funny.
ok. no more negative thoughts about the foreign language department, or foreign language learning in general (although I often wonder if Hispanics that come here think all Americans are idiots because all of the ones that *say* they speak Spanish have no idea what they're talking about and haven't bothered to work on their accents any). Bruce said the other day he is going to grow up and write a book about foreign language education in the U.S. and study why it is so crappy and become famous. I say more power to him. That would be wonderful. How can anyone start to teach something, that they are supposedly passionate about, knowing that they are incompetent and/or inexperienced, and therefore not the best teachers they can be? Current Mood: blah
|Sunday, October 5th, 2003|
|the many simple joys of life
damn, it's really hot in my dorm room. What's the point of air conditioning if it's only on for three weeks (and during those three weeks it breaks many times) if they shut it off as soon as the weather drops below 73, only to make us roast. We can't turn the heat on, it gets 80 degrees, we can't leave the window open, it gets 40 degrees...so there's really not much we can do. This leads us to the overwhelming question...what am I paying for?
so right now I'm feeling definitely sick. It could very possibly be due to lack of sleep, or how the weather suddenly went from 80 to 40 without consulting me, but I feel like crap. This condition is not aided by the look of dissapointment my roommate gave me when I informed her I think I have a cold. Far be it for my personal health concerns to get in the way of your orgasms, sweetie. This means that I can't be the cheerful, accomodating roommate that always seems to dissapear when her boyfriend comes over, meaning no fooling around tonight. I get really annoyed by his presence, not because he's an annoying person or anything, he's really cool, but by the fact that he has to be around all the damn time, which is really strange because a)he's in high school, but far more independent than I was and b) he lives half an hour away. For some reason it's still ok, however, to be here until 10 or 11 even when he has to drive home and be in school the next day. It annoys me that roommate announces to me that her schnookums is coming over and plans to stay until the last possible minute, then politely adds the clause "but only if that's totally ok with you". Well of course it is not ok, but I would rather my best friend not hate me, and when she phrases it like that I feel like I can't contest. So tonight when she came to relieve me in the language lab I told her I couldn't be gone tonight. She said that was totally cool, but the look in her eye was more like "die bitch! how dare you get sick when I have visitation?" I understand that they have very few places to be alone, and I sympathize because it was damn hard dating someone last year when I had no visitation, but let's recount the time they spent together this week:
Thursday: he's here for ALL of visitation, and I make myself scarce. Three hours.
Friday: he picks her up from Berea at 4. They, presumably, hang out after.
the whole rest of the damn weekend: they are together.
Sunday night: too bad they can't fool around with me in the room.
As you can see, I don't really care that they need time to themselves, because I know what it's like, but to me it seems like they have had adequate time to themselves. She can love whoever the hell she wants to love, but it would be nice if she were responsible about it, and not being able to see her beloved (even though they talk on the phone every frickin night for two hours) for a week is, at least in my judgement, childish. If they really did love each other, it seems like being without each other wouldn't be *so* much of a problem, because the love is obviously still going to be there. In my mind people who are in more immature relationships are the ones that have to have constant reassurance. Oh well. Maybe I'm being too harsh. I just feel like I'm making all these sacrifices and Alana assures me that when I get a boyfriend she'll make like a tree and leave, but although she says that, I really doubt that even she thinks it's going to happen. Sure, those words sound nice, but if she doesn't expect those words to ever be tested, then what's the point?
So, I really just need a boyfriend to test this. ha.
There is something about the air here when it starts turning cold that smells the same as last year. It's weird. I walk around campus and get all these crazy flashbacks. And I think it's that same smell in the air that leaves me feeling like I need to have someone right about now...I guess because I had one last year at this time, and just got used to walking with him and smelling the air. But I'm kind of baffled by this natural urge, since it makes me just want to date, and I've come a long way from dating someone just to date them.
in related news...it would be nice if every time someone flirted with me there was a neon sign that went off that said "FLIRTATION IN PROGRESS!" so then I would really know. Course, that would also look really dumb. It's frustrating though that there are some moments where I could swear Jeff is flirting with me...but then I remember he's just a friendly guy. I was a little discouraged this week when I noticed that he has a lot of beautiful, intelligent friends that are girls, and there's not much that I see that would put me in a separate "dateable" category. oh well.
Lately I feel like all I've been doing is bitching. I'm getting rather sick of all these negative thoughts running around in my head, because it's leaving me in a constant state of being pissed-off. If it's not the entire Foreign Language program, it's the stupid people in my Western Trads class. Or having to be out of my room two nights a week. Or falling behind in my classes. Or feeling insufficient (in terms of getting the guy, of course). Or gaining weight. Or the fact that I have more than half a mudslide in my fridge that needs to be gone and no good time/reason to drink it. I'm going to end up drinking it alone, probably...but it seems to me that a lot of people here make promises and plans that they really don't mean, which pisses me off. I just don't like the idea of fake-ness, even though I know that I too am guilty of putting on a front because I think it will make others feel better or something, but there are some times in my life where I would rather have everything out in the open, cut and dry. Oh well.
on the bright side, it was beautiful today and I took a four hour nap. Why do the words four and hour not rhyme? What's up with that? Current Mood: sick and tired in many ways
|Wednesday, September 17th, 2003|
|so this is it, the big time...
so here I am. Another year, another online diary. I have hope for this one, though, because here I feel like I'm a member of some kind of exclusive club. yeah.
what would be more appropriate for my new online diary (sorry, journal) than a discourse about the latest guy I find myself fancying?
haha, yes that's right. I won't introduce myself or bother giving any remotely relevant information about myself before I dig right in to the juicy stuff. Well, I'm being honest with myself. The bulk of what I will actually write about will be petty boy stuff, and although I would like to think I have long debates with myself about deeply intellectual ponderings because somehow it makes me feel like a worthy human being, that simply isn't true. Most of the time. I do think relentlessly from time to time, but I usually stop before I hurt myself, and most of it isn't worthy of online record.
I used to have "crushes" in secret...I would admire from a very far distance and restrict the number of people priveleged with knowledge of them to a very select few. Well, that's impractical, although it would guarantee that I would be comfortable all my life. But comfort is also impractical. Too bad. So, I've realized that I shouldn't be embarassed just because I'm attracted to someone. Everyone has their own version of what rocks their world, and why should I ever be embarassed if mine doesn't exactly fit with every other individual in the world, or even worse, a societal standard. The same societal standard that would brand me forever unworthy of being loved.
After all, I practically started college making a mistake: I dated someone that I was not physically attracted to. My attraction for him really just stemmed from the satisfaction that I was *wanted*, finally, and when I turned him on it was because I was proving, to myself, that I possess this womanly power and someone, somewhere, wants to be on the receiving end.
So, since that was a very public relationship in terms of a tiny college where noone has anything better to do than to talk about others, everyone has already accepted me despite those mistakes. Great.
but now I have a different problem entirely. While that guy may not have been widely wanted because he wasn't very physically attractive, and not too bright either, I now face the dilemma of wanting someone who *is* acceptable by societal standards.
the problem in this?
if any girl would want him, what would he want with me?
Although I recognize that Eric was below my standards (although I don't hardly blame myself. I'm just glad the enthusiasm for finally being wanted didn't drive me to do something I truly regret) I still don't really have a good enough grasp of myself to understand *what* my standards are...or even what they *should* be.
On paper, Jeff (New Guy) definitely seems out of my league. And yet, inside I still get the feeling that somehow, someway, he is attainable.
That is a very, very small part of me though. Most of me inside is a little girl, that doesn't even want to develop feelings because she's afraid of being broken again.
well, I've decided that I can go ahead and develop feelings, I guess. It won't hurt anything, and if those feelings could spark a relationship, I would be absolutely ecstatic. It's a gamble I'm willing to make. I don't want to end up a Prufrock. On the other hand, the last time this happened, senior year, the feelings I thought I was controlling began to control me and I fell way too deep, in over my head. I guess I can just learn from that experience, though, and move on. After all, right now I haven't found any good reasons why Jeff would be interested in me, and he still feels out of my league, so this little crush is, I guess, "safe", as in, realistically, the chances that I will have to express to him that I find him absolutely intriguing are minimal, and all the while it is making my days brighter and putting more of a spring in my step. The danger would come, however, if I did perceive some kind of interest, which was the case with Patrick. He flirted with me, but then bitched to everyone about me, then flirt some more, then find a way to insult me...so that I became confused out of my mind.
oh well. I guess it's not worth worrying about anyway. After all, that would be ruining this great tremendously happy dizzy buzz feeling whenever I see him.