the question arises: can one ever attain the state of being truly clear?
with each proverbial slap in the face that i've experienced for the past seven months, i try to convince myself that i've been given a clean slate, a fresh start, the opportunity to create a new perspective and a new life for myself...
...but it's hard to fool myself when everything seems like i've taken a huge step back to adolescence. searching for work, questioning every choice i've made, living with the parents for the first time in years while i take on small jobs to make ends meet and pay off my steadily increasing student loan bills.
that whole "freedom's just another word for nothing left to lose" is hippieshit. i've nothing to grasp onto and i'm damn ready for a big change. a vertiable tsunami would be welcome at this point, i tell you (and here i thought i'd gotten over the ubiquitous quarter-life crisis).
would i really WANT to be wiped clean, "eternal sunshine" style, of the past year, of every (both blessed and damned) trial that came my unassuming way?
to be clear of every thought of him that shocks me into remembering that he'll never be a part of my life again, when so many pieces of our life remain, badly-concealed artifacts of (cue violins) the way things were... his faded t-shirts still carefully folded by my able hands in the drawers of the cupboard in my once-sanctuary of a room, left behind when we moved to amsterdam. birthday cards tucked between pages of books that once crowded our shelves. the journal i created for our first christmas that chronicled the story of how we met. the album of photos from our trip to venice that he compiled on my 26th birthday, locked in our bedroom while i cleaned our flat and cursed him between numerous cloves and sapphire tonics. the white duvet cover with loopy red hearts that didn't seem sappy when we bought it. the alarm clock that played "the white album" the morning after our first night together while we laid in bed and i sang to him.
not that the break-up was all that felled me, but there are too many pieces of him left unclaimed in my ever-growing lost and found.
i wouldn't, and can't, clear my mind or my space of these remnants. wouldn't want to.
didn't think this would turn into a whiney post break-up rant. i certainly didn't intend for it to be.
perhaps i can be more eloquent when it's not almost three in the morning. i was about to quote a line from 'the vagabond' by colette, which has something to do with it being a perfect time for a woman of ill-refute to retire, but it escapes me. perhaps tomorrow.
Wednesday, February 14, 2007
Tuesday, June 20, 2006
synchronicity. serendipity.
the precise moment i think my path has been defined, everything shifts, and a new route appears.
i had spent the last two weeks absolutely convinced that i was going to stay in miami to finish my degree after quitting the ad school. while i was incredibly happy to have the opportunity to spend time with my friends & family, i must admit that i was mildly disheartened. i thought that my hard work had gone unnoticed by my school& my classmates alike and that i was simply going to have to "do it" on my own.
i had convinced myself that summer in new york would be unbearable & that i was lucky to not have to cope with the scorching heat (and no air conditioner, natch). i had almost become comfortable with having to stay with my parents and eased my ailing ego with the reassurance that i'd be saving money by living in miami. i thought i had made a thoroughly responsible decision in my compromise.
the strangest things happen when you least expect it...
i received a call this afternoon, inviting me to intern at a small agency in new york with a guy who (quite frankly) rocks. he works. HARD.
with my rent paid for 3 months and $1000 going towards my tuition, there was no way i could say no.
the mess is moving to the city for 3 months, kids.
i had spent the last two weeks absolutely convinced that i was going to stay in miami to finish my degree after quitting the ad school. while i was incredibly happy to have the opportunity to spend time with my friends & family, i must admit that i was mildly disheartened. i thought that my hard work had gone unnoticed by my school& my classmates alike and that i was simply going to have to "do it" on my own.
i had convinced myself that summer in new york would be unbearable & that i was lucky to not have to cope with the scorching heat (and no air conditioner, natch). i had almost become comfortable with having to stay with my parents and eased my ailing ego with the reassurance that i'd be saving money by living in miami. i thought i had made a thoroughly responsible decision in my compromise.
the strangest things happen when you least expect it...
i received a call this afternoon, inviting me to intern at a small agency in new york with a guy who (quite frankly) rocks. he works. HARD.
with my rent paid for 3 months and $1000 going towards my tuition, there was no way i could say no.
the mess is moving to the city for 3 months, kids.
Wednesday, May 17, 2006
spindle
i think of him
every moment i shouldn't
find myself longing to tangle my hands
in his dark hair
til it curls around me like vines
crawling over my body
til i'm cocooned
like sleeping beauty
in her castle of brambles
every moment i shouldn't
find myself longing to tangle my hands
in his dark hair
til it curls around me like vines
crawling over my body
til i'm cocooned
like sleeping beauty
in her castle of brambles
Wednesday, May 10, 2006
london lives, pt.1. mind the gap
there is something innately british about the careful, polite distance people keep from each other.
every morning, i cram myself into a crowded train bound for central london, surrounded by people pretending to be immersed in their papers. each rider seems petrified of raising their persistent gazes for even a second. the slightest nudge when the trains departs elicits a mumbled apology directed at the floor. i'm constantly swimming in a reticent sea of sorrys.
standing in such close proximity requires keeping a heedful radius from each individual's personal space, but people seem to behave as if no-one else exists. it's perplexing...
my englishness is manifested in my constant, quiet politeness... and it's magnified now i'm back.
even the americans i've met (all foreigners, really) adopt a calculated stance of true britishness. they keep people at arms' length and converse in the lilting speech patterns that are so alien to their cultures, sounding colonial even through their far more exotic accents. their voices move up and down in a steady, predictable rhythm, like the sounds of my morning train on the tracks. conversations are peppered liberally with respectful apologies where none are needed. it just all comes across as being so impersonal to me.
this is the first time i've been really alone in almost ten years. departed from everyone i love, i find myself becoming more and more detached. the space between us widens and i'm left oddly calmed by this lack of intimacy.
the gap is becoming less of a menace and more of a comfort.
every morning, i cram myself into a crowded train bound for central london, surrounded by people pretending to be immersed in their papers. each rider seems petrified of raising their persistent gazes for even a second. the slightest nudge when the trains departs elicits a mumbled apology directed at the floor. i'm constantly swimming in a reticent sea of sorrys.
standing in such close proximity requires keeping a heedful radius from each individual's personal space, but people seem to behave as if no-one else exists. it's perplexing...
my englishness is manifested in my constant, quiet politeness... and it's magnified now i'm back.
even the americans i've met (all foreigners, really) adopt a calculated stance of true britishness. they keep people at arms' length and converse in the lilting speech patterns that are so alien to their cultures, sounding colonial even through their far more exotic accents. their voices move up and down in a steady, predictable rhythm, like the sounds of my morning train on the tracks. conversations are peppered liberally with respectful apologies where none are needed. it just all comes across as being so impersonal to me.
this is the first time i've been really alone in almost ten years. departed from everyone i love, i find myself becoming more and more detached. the space between us widens and i'm left oddly calmed by this lack of intimacy.
the gap is becoming less of a menace and more of a comfort.
Friday, May 05, 2006
shift
i find myself longing for different things now. for years, i had experienced the deep ache of wanderlust. all i could think of was getting away. while, even now, i always seem to be planning my next trip, that deep ache has transformed into a dull throb that is completely unfulfilled by my nomadlife.
what i long for now... is people. interaction. a challenge, an intimacy.
i find myself speaking less and less, commiting long passages to emails and instant messages instead of getting drunk on conversation in person.
i love this city, i love the fact that i get to come back. i love that i get to fool myself into thinking that every quarter is a fresh start for me.
but why am i not making more of it? what do i find myself so confined to my cold basement flat, unable to meet people, to interact, to speak even?
what i long for now... is people. interaction. a challenge, an intimacy.
i find myself speaking less and less, commiting long passages to emails and instant messages instead of getting drunk on conversation in person.
i love this city, i love the fact that i get to come back. i love that i get to fool myself into thinking that every quarter is a fresh start for me.
but why am i not making more of it? what do i find myself so confined to my cold basement flat, unable to meet people, to interact, to speak even?
Monday, April 10, 2006
unstill
i feel tempted to leave
to pack everything up and disappear without a trace
to abandon everything i've been working for over the past year and a half
i get this itch more frequently than i should probably admit
it's a common pattern in my brief history
quitting just before i actually finish something
because i become consumed by doubt
swallowed whole
until i'm left trembling in its wake
to pack everything up and disappear without a trace
to abandon everything i've been working for over the past year and a half
i get this itch more frequently than i should probably admit
it's a common pattern in my brief history
quitting just before i actually finish something
because i become consumed by doubt
swallowed whole
until i'm left trembling in its wake
Tuesday, April 04, 2006
here is london, giddy london, is it home of the free or what?
being in london requires a morrissey quote. really. i remember listening to the smiths exclusively the summer i spent here when i was 20. imagine a brooding girl with pale skin and short flaming red hair, sulking and stomping through the streets mouthing the lyrics to "there is a light that never goes out." really. i was a charicature of myself those days.
so, i had a brief reprise to my miami madness after returning temporarily midmarch. i felt stuck in an alternate universe from the minute i arrived. i realized that it took considerable effort to attempt to adapt to the life that had once been so natural. i believe my mother finally came to terms with the fact that i will not be living there ever again, after she watched me try to squeeze back into my old patterns.
the highlight of my return home was getting to see (and meet) jamie lidell. in faith, i had partially scheduled my trip back to coincide with a show he was playing. i had been listening to 'multiply' since last summer and had heard amazing things about his performance. nothing i had heard could prepare me for what i saw. christ. i am a sucker for performers who really enjoy being onstage, people who laugh and really commit to their art... and jamie lidell had me trembling from head to toe. i was the very front of the crowd and simply stood there for most of the show, slack-jawed and limp. he is easily the most charismatic (and talented) showman i have ever seen. the honey-sweet vocals & blue eyes don't hurt either.
the second highlight of my trip back was getting a clean bill of health. i am lucky enough to have friends who deem my cancer-free bosoms worthy of several toasts. i feel compelled to quote my dear friend johnny...
"you know how in 'a beautiful mind', the guy is a supergenius capable of doing these complex calculations in his head and creating these incredible new theories that no one has thought of before, but the flipside of that is he's got a little bit of a schizophrenic break going on? but it doesn't really matter and he still wins the nobel prize because his brain is so impressive and awe-inspiring? he just has a little cross to bear in exchange for having one of the most phenomenal brains in the world. i guess that's what it's like with your boobs." very sweet, no? exaggerated, but sweet.
i arrived in london & started at saatchi yesterday... only to fall deathly ill with a nasty stomach flu that kept me in bed, groaning, for most of the day. i can only hope that m's impending trip here shall cure me of such ailments.
so, i had a brief reprise to my miami madness after returning temporarily midmarch. i felt stuck in an alternate universe from the minute i arrived. i realized that it took considerable effort to attempt to adapt to the life that had once been so natural. i believe my mother finally came to terms with the fact that i will not be living there ever again, after she watched me try to squeeze back into my old patterns.
the highlight of my return home was getting to see (and meet) jamie lidell. in faith, i had partially scheduled my trip back to coincide with a show he was playing. i had been listening to 'multiply' since last summer and had heard amazing things about his performance. nothing i had heard could prepare me for what i saw. christ. i am a sucker for performers who really enjoy being onstage, people who laugh and really commit to their art... and jamie lidell had me trembling from head to toe. i was the very front of the crowd and simply stood there for most of the show, slack-jawed and limp. he is easily the most charismatic (and talented) showman i have ever seen. the honey-sweet vocals & blue eyes don't hurt either.
the second highlight of my trip back was getting a clean bill of health. i am lucky enough to have friends who deem my cancer-free bosoms worthy of several toasts. i feel compelled to quote my dear friend johnny...
"you know how in 'a beautiful mind', the guy is a supergenius capable of doing these complex calculations in his head and creating these incredible new theories that no one has thought of before, but the flipside of that is he's got a little bit of a schizophrenic break going on? but it doesn't really matter and he still wins the nobel prize because his brain is so impressive and awe-inspiring? he just has a little cross to bear in exchange for having one of the most phenomenal brains in the world. i guess that's what it's like with your boobs." very sweet, no? exaggerated, but sweet.
i arrived in london & started at saatchi yesterday... only to fall deathly ill with a nasty stomach flu that kept me in bed, groaning, for most of the day. i can only hope that m's impending trip here shall cure me of such ailments.
Monday, February 27, 2006
plus one
i turned twenty-seven yesterday. without any fanfare.
a simple dinner out at a great brasserie here in amsterdam started (and ended) my birthday celebrations.
the whole palaver has left me in a bit of a funk.
while the messages from a special few back in miami brightened my rather solemn day, the whole weekend turned out to be a big mess, with more tears shed than i should probably admit.
i have a bit of a health scare and need to see a doctor once i get back to the states to ensure i am alright. i found a lump on friday... which shook me up quite profoundly.
i've had this kind of scare before... and have a family history of such benign annoyances... but having that kind of shock two days before a birthday doesn't start things off on the right foot.
for the first time in years, i feel incredibly alone, which will only be magnified by my impending temporary separation from mathieu. it appears that he will be going to hamburg to intern next quarter and i will be going to london. again, the news of this put me into a terrible mood. i cannot intern, as i had hoped & expected, even though i am a copywriter (note: there is always a shortage of writers at my school and we;re usually placed in agencies without any problem), i seem to be at the bottom of a mythical list. ridiculous. i really thought my work was improving. i have a notoriously tough teacher urging me to send in 2 campaigns to contests & magazines. seniority rules... and i'm still, even after 5 quarters, apparently just a fresh.
a simple dinner out at a great brasserie here in amsterdam started (and ended) my birthday celebrations.
the whole palaver has left me in a bit of a funk.
while the messages from a special few back in miami brightened my rather solemn day, the whole weekend turned out to be a big mess, with more tears shed than i should probably admit.
i have a bit of a health scare and need to see a doctor once i get back to the states to ensure i am alright. i found a lump on friday... which shook me up quite profoundly.
i've had this kind of scare before... and have a family history of such benign annoyances... but having that kind of shock two days before a birthday doesn't start things off on the right foot.
for the first time in years, i feel incredibly alone, which will only be magnified by my impending temporary separation from mathieu. it appears that he will be going to hamburg to intern next quarter and i will be going to london. again, the news of this put me into a terrible mood. i cannot intern, as i had hoped & expected, even though i am a copywriter (note: there is always a shortage of writers at my school and we;re usually placed in agencies without any problem), i seem to be at the bottom of a mythical list. ridiculous. i really thought my work was improving. i have a notoriously tough teacher urging me to send in 2 campaigns to contests & magazines. seniority rules... and i'm still, even after 5 quarters, apparently just a fresh.
Saturday, February 04, 2006
from today's walk...
after venturing out to the albert cuyp market (and being sadly disappointed- let's face it- there is no market in the world like camden market), mathieu and i had a long walk around the city. every day, i'm completely enchanted by amsterdam. i am one lucky meuf.
Thursday, January 12, 2006
dag
it's taken me nine glorious days to get to this. i'm finally in amsterdam... and finally feel at home.
my last few days in miami left me drawn, physically and emotionally. the preparations were not done to completion, but i managed to get myself into a place where i could at least leave without the fear of waking up every morning in a cold sweat. for the first time in my adult life, my parents offered their help in every aspect... and even seemed delighted to assist me. they subdued my substantial fears by assuring me that they would tie up any of my hastily left business without any questions. somehow, this security helped me feel more 'adult' than all of the million other times when they've urged me to conquer adversity and be responsible 'on my own.' i guess part of really coming to terms with adulthood (something that, at almost 27, i still shy away from with mincing steps and girlish tittering) is knowing when to ask for help, even from the people you've come to expect it least.
christmas was spent in the south of france with m's family- lots of food and wine, many tears on my part after feeling i had left without a proper goodbye- then proceeded to austria to go snowboarding. now, i approached the slope with a certain sense of arrogance. i had been a great skier once (no, seriously) and was confident that my balance would serve me well on the board. i spent three days falling down with massive black bruises as battle scars before throwing in the proverbial towel. i actually walked down an entire run, carrying my snowboard, crying miserably in the cold. note to self: next time you decide to take on a new sport, book lessons with a professional instead of relying on the wavering patience of your lover.
upon my arrival in amsterdam, i fell head over heels in love immediately. this city is unbelievably breathtaking and positively humming with life. not buzzing fiendishly like london or new york, or throbbing persistently like miami, it simply sings. the rhythm is steady and intoxicating. it's a clear-headed high, leaving my head thrown back blissfully as the cool, calm night seems to swallow me whole. i never want to leave.
there are surprises found in every narrow street... and every person i've met has been extraordinarily kind, and content, to boot.
one example- a few nights ago, m and i were on our way to meet our classmates at a club. we kept trying to hail a cab, but were unsuccessful. we came across a guy stopped on his bike and asked him where the nearest busy street was so that we could find some transportation into the center of town (note: we live on the perimeter of central amsterdam, in a beautiful open-layout one bedroom in a modern building, WITH a lift. very rare in 'dam). instead of directing us, the gentleman insisted that he call a cab for us, to pick us up. really. after a quick conversation in dutch, he gave us a warm smile and pedaled off, wishing us a happy stay. astounding...
of course, i've had a few teary bouts of homesickness, missing my friends and cat, but the transition to my new life has been surprisingly smooth.
it's reassuring to know that i'm able to start over... and always able to return to all that is familiar.
my last few days in miami left me drawn, physically and emotionally. the preparations were not done to completion, but i managed to get myself into a place where i could at least leave without the fear of waking up every morning in a cold sweat. for the first time in my adult life, my parents offered their help in every aspect... and even seemed delighted to assist me. they subdued my substantial fears by assuring me that they would tie up any of my hastily left business without any questions. somehow, this security helped me feel more 'adult' than all of the million other times when they've urged me to conquer adversity and be responsible 'on my own.' i guess part of really coming to terms with adulthood (something that, at almost 27, i still shy away from with mincing steps and girlish tittering) is knowing when to ask for help, even from the people you've come to expect it least.
christmas was spent in the south of france with m's family- lots of food and wine, many tears on my part after feeling i had left without a proper goodbye- then proceeded to austria to go snowboarding. now, i approached the slope with a certain sense of arrogance. i had been a great skier once (no, seriously) and was confident that my balance would serve me well on the board. i spent three days falling down with massive black bruises as battle scars before throwing in the proverbial towel. i actually walked down an entire run, carrying my snowboard, crying miserably in the cold. note to self: next time you decide to take on a new sport, book lessons with a professional instead of relying on the wavering patience of your lover.
upon my arrival in amsterdam, i fell head over heels in love immediately. this city is unbelievably breathtaking and positively humming with life. not buzzing fiendishly like london or new york, or throbbing persistently like miami, it simply sings. the rhythm is steady and intoxicating. it's a clear-headed high, leaving my head thrown back blissfully as the cool, calm night seems to swallow me whole. i never want to leave.
there are surprises found in every narrow street... and every person i've met has been extraordinarily kind, and content, to boot.
one example- a few nights ago, m and i were on our way to meet our classmates at a club. we kept trying to hail a cab, but were unsuccessful. we came across a guy stopped on his bike and asked him where the nearest busy street was so that we could find some transportation into the center of town (note: we live on the perimeter of central amsterdam, in a beautiful open-layout one bedroom in a modern building, WITH a lift. very rare in 'dam). instead of directing us, the gentleman insisted that he call a cab for us, to pick us up. really. after a quick conversation in dutch, he gave us a warm smile and pedaled off, wishing us a happy stay. astounding...
of course, i've had a few teary bouts of homesickness, missing my friends and cat, but the transition to my new life has been surprisingly smooth.
it's reassuring to know that i'm able to start over... and always able to return to all that is familiar.
Friday, December 16, 2005
i am just that funny
for those few readers who paid attention to my old posts, i was enrolled in a stand-up comedy class this quarter. last night was performance time. i headlined... and nailed it. seriously.
i think everyone was astonished to hear such a nice girl have such a filthy, filthy mouth. maybe they were just surprised to actually her me speak.
shockingly, i am quite a different gal at school. i'm shy, insecure, and not altogether too jazzed about my ideas. i guess it comes across in my presentation. outside, i'm loud and opinionated, ridiculous and shameless. onstage, it's even worse. apparently, i found it incredibly easy to adopt a character and an attitude to deliver my jokes pointedly. "obscene e" had a definite swagger and owned the stage. she didn't care if you wanted to listen or not- she was gonna MAKE you listen.
to make it even more incongruous, i dressed in a knee length leather skirt, black tank, and metallic shrug. i wore peep toe pumps, my glasses, and carefully-applied eyeliner. i looked perfectly respectable... that is, until i opened my mouth...
"are you ready for some filth? yeah, you're all thinking, 'she looks like such a nice girl.' please. i'm about as nice as john goodman in a saran wrap unitard."
shazam.
i joked about everything from masturbation to cheating (or cockoutsourcing as i lovingly renamed it) to my cat watching my sexual foibles. jewish girls not giving it up, acting like a believable TS to scare off straight boys in clubs, making fun of drunken frat boys (said they were about as hot as a toothless prostiute gumming your boy to climax and that the next one who came up to me with grabby hands saying 'TIG OL BITTIES' was gonna hear, "i wanna suck your piny tenis"), NOTHING was spared.
i have a sick, sick mind...
and they loved it.
i nailed it. and had a long overdue dose of confidence.
i didn't just own the stage... i owned this whole quarter. had the opportunity to prove myself as both a kickass copywriter and an art director to be reckoned with.
not just that... i'm damn funny, too.
i think everyone was astonished to hear such a nice girl have such a filthy, filthy mouth. maybe they were just surprised to actually her me speak.
shockingly, i am quite a different gal at school. i'm shy, insecure, and not altogether too jazzed about my ideas. i guess it comes across in my presentation. outside, i'm loud and opinionated, ridiculous and shameless. onstage, it's even worse. apparently, i found it incredibly easy to adopt a character and an attitude to deliver my jokes pointedly. "obscene e" had a definite swagger and owned the stage. she didn't care if you wanted to listen or not- she was gonna MAKE you listen.
to make it even more incongruous, i dressed in a knee length leather skirt, black tank, and metallic shrug. i wore peep toe pumps, my glasses, and carefully-applied eyeliner. i looked perfectly respectable... that is, until i opened my mouth...
"are you ready for some filth? yeah, you're all thinking, 'she looks like such a nice girl.' please. i'm about as nice as john goodman in a saran wrap unitard."
shazam.
i joked about everything from masturbation to cheating (or cockoutsourcing as i lovingly renamed it) to my cat watching my sexual foibles. jewish girls not giving it up, acting like a believable TS to scare off straight boys in clubs, making fun of drunken frat boys (said they were about as hot as a toothless prostiute gumming your boy to climax and that the next one who came up to me with grabby hands saying 'TIG OL BITTIES' was gonna hear, "i wanna suck your piny tenis"), NOTHING was spared.
i have a sick, sick mind...
and they loved it.
i nailed it. and had a long overdue dose of confidence.
i didn't just own the stage... i owned this whole quarter. had the opportunity to prove myself as both a kickass copywriter and an art director to be reckoned with.
not just that... i'm damn funny, too.
Tuesday, December 13, 2005
goodbyes
i'm leaving miami in 8 days... and the last time i left was almost 8 years ago.
m & i are going to france for christmas before going to amsterdam to study. it appears that i will be a nomad for the next year and, while the adventure enthralls me, saying goodbye is pretty damn hard.
it's saying goodbye to the most fulfilling job i've ever had, saying goodbye to the students i'm always pleased to spend a few precious hours with each week. it's leaving my cat (the only thing that seems to calm me down when i'm distraught) and the apartment i've made into a home. it's leaving my folks, who grow dearer to me every day, and the network of beautiful thrilling friends i've come to love like blood. it's leaving my sandals and skirts to adorn layers of wool to keep me warm.
my high school had a yearly ritual. a week before graduation, the entire theater department would gather in the large black box theater while the seniors stood onstage to say goodbye and thank the teachers. most wound up bawling and acting like melodramatic adolescents we all, admittedly, were. i think i spouted off some random kerouac quotes about art before growing overly sentimental and making a general ass of myself. it was pretty damn self-indulgent, even then.
now, instead of making a big scene about my impending departure, i just seem to be stressing over the minutiae of organizing my new life and fretting about not having evry last detail taken care of.
i am simultaneously thrilled and scared out of my wits, but somewhere beneath my frazzled exterior, know i am more ready than i could ever imagine.
m & i are going to france for christmas before going to amsterdam to study. it appears that i will be a nomad for the next year and, while the adventure enthralls me, saying goodbye is pretty damn hard.
it's saying goodbye to the most fulfilling job i've ever had, saying goodbye to the students i'm always pleased to spend a few precious hours with each week. it's leaving my cat (the only thing that seems to calm me down when i'm distraught) and the apartment i've made into a home. it's leaving my folks, who grow dearer to me every day, and the network of beautiful thrilling friends i've come to love like blood. it's leaving my sandals and skirts to adorn layers of wool to keep me warm.
my high school had a yearly ritual. a week before graduation, the entire theater department would gather in the large black box theater while the seniors stood onstage to say goodbye and thank the teachers. most wound up bawling and acting like melodramatic adolescents we all, admittedly, were. i think i spouted off some random kerouac quotes about art before growing overly sentimental and making a general ass of myself. it was pretty damn self-indulgent, even then.
now, instead of making a big scene about my impending departure, i just seem to be stressing over the minutiae of organizing my new life and fretting about not having evry last detail taken care of.
i am simultaneously thrilled and scared out of my wits, but somewhere beneath my frazzled exterior, know i am more ready than i could ever imagine.
Monday, November 14, 2005
i'm thankful for...
i started to post this two weeks ago... and forgot about it. blah.
last night, i hosted the second annual pre-thanksgiving potluck feast my friends and i pull out our best recipes for. last year was fantastic- this year was BLISS.
we planned the party on tuesday and i was rushing around all week like a methhead, twitching and compiling endless lists of things to do and prepare. by saturday, i was near pulling my freshly-dyed hair out (note: those of you who knew me as a redhead for years, and a blonde even before that, will be pleasantly surprised to find i am now a femme fatale with dark chocolate coloured locks. a girl needs a little mystery once in a while).
sunday morning, i woke up to find my cat missing. nausea swept over me so wholely that even the thought of the veritable cornucopia that awaited me couldn't pull me from my distress. i spent the whole day adding dishes to my already full menu and sobbing between peeling potatoes & roasting chickpeas.
by the time my guests arrived, my mood had lifted... and the combined presence of their lively conversation and the dish of tuna on my balcony brought my feline companion home. i was elated... and could finally relax.
we sat down to eat the first course and found comfort in our ritual of moving around the table to list all of the things we were thankful for. at that very moment, it hit all of us that our gatherings would soon be brought to a halt. we realized that two couples from our seemingly steadfast group would be leaving... some sooner than others.
mathieu and i will be leaving SOMEWHERE mid-december. we have put in our choices for our quarter away program, and the closest we'll be is chicago. more likely, we'll be in europe.
for the first time in my life, i have a group of friends that thrill me endlessly, a support group of incredible people who keep me on my toes and grinning madly.
it's easy to become attached to people when you don't have siblings.
in the past, i've had groups of friends who worked on solving each others problems and always analyzing the ridiculous, puerile drama they seemed to get themselves into. this, of course, was in my early twenties, when most of our nights were clouded by a chemical haze. i've always been the girl to give give give, and merely pout in the corner when i realize that my "friends" had been taking advantage of my considerable generosity. i'm very naive in that sense.
that doesn't happy anymore... and it's a stark contrast to both my years as a loner (with two lovely galpals who popped in and out of my life. the two beautiful women i know i may not see or talk to frequently, but will always be in my thoughts) and my time as the designated mediator of the dramagroups.
last night, i hosted the second annual pre-thanksgiving potluck feast my friends and i pull out our best recipes for. last year was fantastic- this year was BLISS.
we planned the party on tuesday and i was rushing around all week like a methhead, twitching and compiling endless lists of things to do and prepare. by saturday, i was near pulling my freshly-dyed hair out (note: those of you who knew me as a redhead for years, and a blonde even before that, will be pleasantly surprised to find i am now a femme fatale with dark chocolate coloured locks. a girl needs a little mystery once in a while).
sunday morning, i woke up to find my cat missing. nausea swept over me so wholely that even the thought of the veritable cornucopia that awaited me couldn't pull me from my distress. i spent the whole day adding dishes to my already full menu and sobbing between peeling potatoes & roasting chickpeas.
by the time my guests arrived, my mood had lifted... and the combined presence of their lively conversation and the dish of tuna on my balcony brought my feline companion home. i was elated... and could finally relax.
we sat down to eat the first course and found comfort in our ritual of moving around the table to list all of the things we were thankful for. at that very moment, it hit all of us that our gatherings would soon be brought to a halt. we realized that two couples from our seemingly steadfast group would be leaving... some sooner than others.
mathieu and i will be leaving SOMEWHERE mid-december. we have put in our choices for our quarter away program, and the closest we'll be is chicago. more likely, we'll be in europe.
for the first time in my life, i have a group of friends that thrill me endlessly, a support group of incredible people who keep me on my toes and grinning madly.
it's easy to become attached to people when you don't have siblings.
in the past, i've had groups of friends who worked on solving each others problems and always analyzing the ridiculous, puerile drama they seemed to get themselves into. this, of course, was in my early twenties, when most of our nights were clouded by a chemical haze. i've always been the girl to give give give, and merely pout in the corner when i realize that my "friends" had been taking advantage of my considerable generosity. i'm very naive in that sense.
that doesn't happy anymore... and it's a stark contrast to both my years as a loner (with two lovely galpals who popped in and out of my life. the two beautiful women i know i may not see or talk to frequently, but will always be in my thoughts) and my time as the designated mediator of the dramagroups.
Monday, October 31, 2005
it's gettin' kinda hectic...
(i've got the power)
well, friends, please pardon my absence. it is not without reason, i promise. i was without power after the wrath of wilma for a whopping 7 days. mind you, my entire neighborhood had it's power restored by thursday afternoon while we sat in the dark.
i can finally retire my candles. let me just say that the hum of my air conditioner is a welcome sound indeed.
the time that it took to get things up and running is astounding. my mum, who is deeply intrigued by second wrold war lit, kept telling me how london was back in business the very next day after the nightly bombings. ladies' associations were on the street, dutifully doling out tea and biscuits. over sixty years later and we're waiting on line for hours to get water. pitiful.
a great big thanks to all of my friends (gaba, hills, and rocky especially) who opened their doors and fridges to us. and my lovely mum, who sent me back to desolation packed up with cans of tuna, long-life milk, cookies, and raisins to keep me sane.
well, friends, please pardon my absence. it is not without reason, i promise. i was without power after the wrath of wilma for a whopping 7 days. mind you, my entire neighborhood had it's power restored by thursday afternoon while we sat in the dark.
i can finally retire my candles. let me just say that the hum of my air conditioner is a welcome sound indeed.
the time that it took to get things up and running is astounding. my mum, who is deeply intrigued by second wrold war lit, kept telling me how london was back in business the very next day after the nightly bombings. ladies' associations were on the street, dutifully doling out tea and biscuits. over sixty years later and we're waiting on line for hours to get water. pitiful.
a great big thanks to all of my friends (gaba, hills, and rocky especially) who opened their doors and fridges to us. and my lovely mum, who sent me back to desolation packed up with cans of tuna, long-life milk, cookies, and raisins to keep me sane.
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