I have had a lot of nightmares recently.
In the one I had last night I was somewhere that was supposed to be my apartment, and I was watching tv. All of a sudden one of the guys appeared, and since he just appared I knew he was a hologram and not real. So I started waving my arm to control him, and made him push a button on the TV (which apparently had a touch screen).
So then someone made a comment about how there was obviously a camera in the TV letting me control the hologram. It was on the weather channel, and I got up to change it myself. It flipped to another channel, and then it wouldn't change channels or turn off (haha, I can't even have nightmares with an original plot...)
Anyway, it was some kind of sports channel. They were showing a swimming match on TV and switched to some footage of one of the teams getting ready. This consisted of a bunch of girls lying on benches in front of lockers with body bags hanging from them. I think they were supposed to be doing some kind of visualization of the race but they were all gasping and crying. A couple girls had zipped themselves into their body bags and only there heads were sticking out. Other girls were whimpering and throwing up. I felt sick from watching it, so I tried to turn away; of course I couldn't.
When I finally woke myself up, I realized that I was gasping too.
29 June 2006
27 June 2006
WTF?
So, Tom threw out my high school class ring.
I want to say more, but at the same time, I don't. I feel like anything I say is going to just be bitter, weary, and useless. I want to express how upset I am and how angry it makes me, given the context of the breakup and his behavior; however, I know that doing so won't accomplish anything and it will just drag out a bunch of bitterness and pettiness on my part that really has no place in my life.
He can throw out the object, but he can't throw away my memories. I'll be damned if I don't replace it...
I want to say more, but at the same time, I don't. I feel like anything I say is going to just be bitter, weary, and useless. I want to express how upset I am and how angry it makes me, given the context of the breakup and his behavior; however, I know that doing so won't accomplish anything and it will just drag out a bunch of bitterness and pettiness on my part that really has no place in my life.
He can throw out the object, but he can't throw away my memories. I'll be damned if I don't replace it...
23 June 2006
On Pins and Needles
On Wednesday, I called A-1 to make an appointment. I use the word "appointment" loosely, because I don't think I've ever been seen at the time I signed up for, and I don't think she's ever not had a "slot" at whatever time I've requested. Nonetheless, I am not sure what time to ask for on Thursday, so she tells me I'll be there at 5.
Thursday I come home from work long enough to talk to Brian briefly before I head back out again. I've given myself plenty of extra time to get there, and wish I'd made the appointment for a time closer to 4:30. This is the first time I've driven to the clinic from up here, and I am surprised to find myself driving past Georgetown Prep on the way in. As I turn down the street that it's on, I can't remember which corner it's tucked into and drive right past it into a traffic jam. The streets are configured in such a way that turning around and going back the way I came is impossible, so I find a perpendicular street and use my intuition to estimate the right place to turn back. I arrive in the parking lot exactly at 5.
As I walk in, she remembers me and greets me excitedly even though I haven't seen her since winter break, and then only a couple times. She is busy with another family and hustles me back into one of the rooms to wait while she finishes up. I am prepared for this, so I sit and read for about half an hour until she comes in for me.
"Jennifer is back!" she giggles as she bustles around the room getting it ready. She comes and goes from my room a couple more times before she is ready to start "needling" me. (Her word, not mine).
I lay face down on the table and she starts feeling down my back, counting my vertebrae. She pokes the first couple needles in, and I feel myself tense involuntarily as she hits a few pressure points. I have to bite back laughter as the next few needles really really tickle. She reminds me again of what she's told me almost every time I've gone in: being so sensitive on the back indicates that I am closed to the world, that I am too afraid of being vulnerable, that I need to understand that it's really okay to open up to things around me.
After no more than a couple minutes, she is finished putting the needles in and I am left to lay by myself. She puts a sheet on my legs and arranges a couple heat lamps so I don't get cold, turns out the lights, and leaves the room. I feel myself start to relax in spite of the uncomfortable table. As the tension starts to flow away, so my thoughts begin.
I think back to earlier in the day, at the office. One of the guys was telling stories, and I was sitting in the back getting some things finished up. They gave me a hard time about working, so I got up and joined them. The conversation was pretty funny, but I had been really uncomfortable just standing there unsure of what to do with myself, and at one point the guy talking just looked me dead in the eyes and said, very quietly, "It's okay to laugh, you know."
I'm not sure what's happened to make me so tense that I feel vulnerable just from laughing, so he touches a nerve. Brian tells me I worry too much about what people think of me, and he is probably right. I start thinking about Brian, and wondering how he's doing. I don't remeber everything I thought about, except that when the lady came in to get some needles for the next room over I worry that she is there to get me up, but I am not finished thinking.
In reality, I am left to my thoughts for almost 45 minutes. I don't have any big revelations; it's not as though I feel like I particularly need any. I know that recently I've been really tense and anxious around groups of people, and that I've been witholding myself more than usual; I also know that the only thing that needs to change is my choice of action. I feel tingling in my back, as if a weight has been massaged out of me. She comes back in and removes the needles, and rubs something sweet smelling on my back. I sit up, more refreshed than after a night of sleep, and stretch lazily.
As I stand up and get my things, my face breaks out into a smile. I can't help myself; my muscles act of their own accord, it's like that trick where you stand in a doorway and press your arms against the sides really hard for 10 seconds and then you stand up and they drift up all by themselves.
I am a very rational person. I am majoring in a field of study that is nothing more than objective truth; numbers, equations, reasoning, reality. I don't understand acupuncture on any sort of deep level. It makes sense to me that a person's nerves form an interconnected network that, when stimulated in certain ways, can cause a "reset", or something. I feel more rational now than I did before I went in, and a lot more calm - deeply calm. It's not that "convincing myself everything is okay" sort of mindset, it's that actually knowing and feeling okay with, most importantly, myself - as well as my life, my friends, my family, Brian. I don't feel like there's a rush towards anything, or to know exactly where life is taking me...I'm just happy to be alive, and I mean that.
Thursday I come home from work long enough to talk to Brian briefly before I head back out again. I've given myself plenty of extra time to get there, and wish I'd made the appointment for a time closer to 4:30. This is the first time I've driven to the clinic from up here, and I am surprised to find myself driving past Georgetown Prep on the way in. As I turn down the street that it's on, I can't remember which corner it's tucked into and drive right past it into a traffic jam. The streets are configured in such a way that turning around and going back the way I came is impossible, so I find a perpendicular street and use my intuition to estimate the right place to turn back. I arrive in the parking lot exactly at 5.
As I walk in, she remembers me and greets me excitedly even though I haven't seen her since winter break, and then only a couple times. She is busy with another family and hustles me back into one of the rooms to wait while she finishes up. I am prepared for this, so I sit and read for about half an hour until she comes in for me.
"Jennifer is back!" she giggles as she bustles around the room getting it ready. She comes and goes from my room a couple more times before she is ready to start "needling" me. (Her word, not mine).
I lay face down on the table and she starts feeling down my back, counting my vertebrae. She pokes the first couple needles in, and I feel myself tense involuntarily as she hits a few pressure points. I have to bite back laughter as the next few needles really really tickle. She reminds me again of what she's told me almost every time I've gone in: being so sensitive on the back indicates that I am closed to the world, that I am too afraid of being vulnerable, that I need to understand that it's really okay to open up to things around me.
After no more than a couple minutes, she is finished putting the needles in and I am left to lay by myself. She puts a sheet on my legs and arranges a couple heat lamps so I don't get cold, turns out the lights, and leaves the room. I feel myself start to relax in spite of the uncomfortable table. As the tension starts to flow away, so my thoughts begin.
I think back to earlier in the day, at the office. One of the guys was telling stories, and I was sitting in the back getting some things finished up. They gave me a hard time about working, so I got up and joined them. The conversation was pretty funny, but I had been really uncomfortable just standing there unsure of what to do with myself, and at one point the guy talking just looked me dead in the eyes and said, very quietly, "It's okay to laugh, you know."
I'm not sure what's happened to make me so tense that I feel vulnerable just from laughing, so he touches a nerve. Brian tells me I worry too much about what people think of me, and he is probably right. I start thinking about Brian, and wondering how he's doing. I don't remeber everything I thought about, except that when the lady came in to get some needles for the next room over I worry that she is there to get me up, but I am not finished thinking.
In reality, I am left to my thoughts for almost 45 minutes. I don't have any big revelations; it's not as though I feel like I particularly need any. I know that recently I've been really tense and anxious around groups of people, and that I've been witholding myself more than usual; I also know that the only thing that needs to change is my choice of action. I feel tingling in my back, as if a weight has been massaged out of me. She comes back in and removes the needles, and rubs something sweet smelling on my back. I sit up, more refreshed than after a night of sleep, and stretch lazily.
As I stand up and get my things, my face breaks out into a smile. I can't help myself; my muscles act of their own accord, it's like that trick where you stand in a doorway and press your arms against the sides really hard for 10 seconds and then you stand up and they drift up all by themselves.
I am a very rational person. I am majoring in a field of study that is nothing more than objective truth; numbers, equations, reasoning, reality. I don't understand acupuncture on any sort of deep level. It makes sense to me that a person's nerves form an interconnected network that, when stimulated in certain ways, can cause a "reset", or something. I feel more rational now than I did before I went in, and a lot more calm - deeply calm. It's not that "convincing myself everything is okay" sort of mindset, it's that actually knowing and feeling okay with, most importantly, myself - as well as my life, my friends, my family, Brian. I don't feel like there's a rush towards anything, or to know exactly where life is taking me...I'm just happy to be alive, and I mean that.
22 June 2006
But Mommmm....
Last night I had a dream wherein I was shopping for a Prom dress (I have no idea why) and my mom was with me.
And all of a sudden she flipped out and started yelling at me that the dress I was buying was too cheap looking for what it cost, and how I always had to make bad choices with dresses, and why couldn't I get something like a traditional fancy prom dress with lots of taffeta and whatnot.
Which was odd, if you know my mother.
I also want to know what the dress was supposed to symbolize.
And all of a sudden she flipped out and started yelling at me that the dress I was buying was too cheap looking for what it cost, and how I always had to make bad choices with dresses, and why couldn't I get something like a traditional fancy prom dress with lots of taffeta and whatnot.
Which was odd, if you know my mother.
I also want to know what the dress was supposed to symbolize.
17 June 2006
Rockin' The Suburbs
I saw 'over the hedge' last night. It was pretty good but not really worth the $8...well, until I realized that the music was all by Ben Folds. And then it was worth it.
Yesterday at work I killed almost an hour talking to one of the guys I work with about metal. Although now I kind of wonder how people there are going to perceive me because I've been really quiet in there up until then-ish, and, um, I really wouldn't want to be represented solely on the basis of my taste in heavy metal and stories about high school. Heh. Especially since metal isn't even the biggest part of what I listen to now, it's just that I listen to a LOT of everything and it was finally something I could talk about.
That's another funny thing. To me high school still feels recent, even though I'm halfway done with college. I guess that's because college has gone really quickly, and high school felt like it dragged on for an ETERNITY. Maybe I just have a funny way of thinking about the past, because I was talking to someone the other day and realized that I haven't actually been to the Air & Space Museum in DC for at least 8 years, and probably closer to 10, and until I thought about it I'd figured that it'd only been a couple years. Also it scares me that I can sit here and have memories from 10 years ago that I still remember. I mean, I'm glad I can remember, but...yeah. Gah.
Yesterday at work I killed almost an hour talking to one of the guys I work with about metal. Although now I kind of wonder how people there are going to perceive me because I've been really quiet in there up until then-ish, and, um, I really wouldn't want to be represented solely on the basis of my taste in heavy metal and stories about high school. Heh. Especially since metal isn't even the biggest part of what I listen to now, it's just that I listen to a LOT of everything and it was finally something I could talk about.
That's another funny thing. To me high school still feels recent, even though I'm halfway done with college. I guess that's because college has gone really quickly, and high school felt like it dragged on for an ETERNITY. Maybe I just have a funny way of thinking about the past, because I was talking to someone the other day and realized that I haven't actually been to the Air & Space Museum in DC for at least 8 years, and probably closer to 10, and until I thought about it I'd figured that it'd only been a couple years. Also it scares me that I can sit here and have memories from 10 years ago that I still remember. I mean, I'm glad I can remember, but...yeah. Gah.
14 June 2006
The Return.
Last night was very strange. It was not very dramatic, or very loud, or very harsh. It was just very strange.
Tom came over with The Bear and my other things in tow. We stood across from each other, me with my arms folded, he with his arms at his side in his characteristic stance, making awkward small talk. At one point he looked into my eyes, and with a small shake of his head and the slightest smile on his lips said,
"I'm really sorry about all of this..." with a sort of halfhearted embarassed chuckle, the sort of noise you make when your dog pisses all over your least favorite relative.
We stayed in our proper roles for the entire encounter. He as the wise, distant, complicated, prodigal figure and I as the probing, edgy, misunderstanding but well-intentioned young soul, managed to find some words to say until our voices trailed off and we stood simply nodding at the other. I couldn't help crying if for nothing else than for all the wasted emotional energy and all of the empty thoughts, words, and promises of the past. He hugged me, as protocol demanded, but it was cold and empty - much like many of his embraces during the latter part of our actual relationship.
He wanted the ring back, and so I said he could have it. It was the final piece of the circle: from eager, brash, declarations of love; to setting up the proper release from those immature, premature obligations; to excuses for wrongly thinking that I was the one; to the final rescinding of that first and final declaration.
It's fine. I certainly don't have any reason to cherish it forever, and while I do feel (strongly) that it was not his place to ask for it back, it's not anything worth causing more drama over.
Today I did laundry and washed the three t-shirts of mine he had, things I'd given him to remind me of me so he wouldn't be so lonely while we were apart. I kept Smirky on the coffee table as I finished reading Sting's autobiography. I think the strangest part of this whole experience is the way that my bear feels to me now. When I was younger, I took Smirks everywhere. Sometimes I'd even bring him in the car to school and leave him there so I could look forward to a hug at the end of the day. I stored (in a psychological sense, of course) all sorts of happy, squealing, love-filled energy into my bear. When I came back from college last summer, I expected that Smirky would feel empty to me - that I would realize that he was just an object, just a stuffed animal. I was surprised to find that hugging him still had the same effect as always.
Last night he felt the way I thought he would after I came back from college. It was like all of the feeling had leaked away while he was stuffed up in Tom's closet. And I know that it's silly, because there was never anything more there than what was in my mind...nonetheless, that was what I felt. I know, I know...it's just a toy, Jenn. And - in spite of that - it is good to have him back.
I went home for a short time this evening and was supposed to stay for dinner, but I left early. I just felt out of sorts, like it was important to be alone and to work myself out of this funk. I know that was probably selfish, but...I couldn't figure out what to do with myself. I picked up my guitar, tuned it, learned a few short songs, and then I felt like it was time to retreat back to my own space, to sort out my thoughts and feelings and to find a more positive frame of mind with which to greet tomorrow...
On the drive home, I did a lot of thinking (unsurprisingly). I managed to scare myself about the fact that working full time is no small task - and as things are now, with me living on my own by myself, I feel like I don't have a lot of free time. I can't imagine fitting an entire family life into the times after work and on the weekend. I don't want a family to be an extracurricular to me, I don't want sitting at a desk for 8 hours a day to be my main focus in life. I want to have a family, and I want to be in a family, and I don't want it to be something I just "fit in" - I want it to be the main focus of my life. I am almost certain that I won't be able to stand having a "desk job" for the rest of my life - that while I do want a career, I want something less structured and routine than what I face now. (At the same time, I don't think that my life is going to "suck", regardless of what I end up doing. Once I get out of this funk, I know I won't sound or feel like nearly such a lost, romantic, bleeding heart. )
Tom came over with The Bear and my other things in tow. We stood across from each other, me with my arms folded, he with his arms at his side in his characteristic stance, making awkward small talk. At one point he looked into my eyes, and with a small shake of his head and the slightest smile on his lips said,
"I'm really sorry about all of this..." with a sort of halfhearted embarassed chuckle, the sort of noise you make when your dog pisses all over your least favorite relative.
We stayed in our proper roles for the entire encounter. He as the wise, distant, complicated, prodigal figure and I as the probing, edgy, misunderstanding but well-intentioned young soul, managed to find some words to say until our voices trailed off and we stood simply nodding at the other. I couldn't help crying if for nothing else than for all the wasted emotional energy and all of the empty thoughts, words, and promises of the past. He hugged me, as protocol demanded, but it was cold and empty - much like many of his embraces during the latter part of our actual relationship.
He wanted the ring back, and so I said he could have it. It was the final piece of the circle: from eager, brash, declarations of love; to setting up the proper release from those immature, premature obligations; to excuses for wrongly thinking that I was the one; to the final rescinding of that first and final declaration.
It's fine. I certainly don't have any reason to cherish it forever, and while I do feel (strongly) that it was not his place to ask for it back, it's not anything worth causing more drama over.
Today I did laundry and washed the three t-shirts of mine he had, things I'd given him to remind me of me so he wouldn't be so lonely while we were apart. I kept Smirky on the coffee table as I finished reading Sting's autobiography. I think the strangest part of this whole experience is the way that my bear feels to me now. When I was younger, I took Smirks everywhere. Sometimes I'd even bring him in the car to school and leave him there so I could look forward to a hug at the end of the day. I stored (in a psychological sense, of course) all sorts of happy, squealing, love-filled energy into my bear. When I came back from college last summer, I expected that Smirky would feel empty to me - that I would realize that he was just an object, just a stuffed animal. I was surprised to find that hugging him still had the same effect as always.
Last night he felt the way I thought he would after I came back from college. It was like all of the feeling had leaked away while he was stuffed up in Tom's closet. And I know that it's silly, because there was never anything more there than what was in my mind...nonetheless, that was what I felt. I know, I know...it's just a toy, Jenn. And - in spite of that - it is good to have him back.
I went home for a short time this evening and was supposed to stay for dinner, but I left early. I just felt out of sorts, like it was important to be alone and to work myself out of this funk. I know that was probably selfish, but...I couldn't figure out what to do with myself. I picked up my guitar, tuned it, learned a few short songs, and then I felt like it was time to retreat back to my own space, to sort out my thoughts and feelings and to find a more positive frame of mind with which to greet tomorrow...
On the drive home, I did a lot of thinking (unsurprisingly). I managed to scare myself about the fact that working full time is no small task - and as things are now, with me living on my own by myself, I feel like I don't have a lot of free time. I can't imagine fitting an entire family life into the times after work and on the weekend. I don't want a family to be an extracurricular to me, I don't want sitting at a desk for 8 hours a day to be my main focus in life. I want to have a family, and I want to be in a family, and I don't want it to be something I just "fit in" - I want it to be the main focus of my life. I am almost certain that I won't be able to stand having a "desk job" for the rest of my life - that while I do want a career, I want something less structured and routine than what I face now. (At the same time, I don't think that my life is going to "suck", regardless of what I end up doing. Once I get out of this funk, I know I won't sound or feel like nearly such a lost, romantic, bleeding heart. )
04 June 2006
Stop Haunting My Dreams!
Had a dream about Tom last night.
I think I fell asleep thinking about Chipotle, so in the dream I was pulling into the Chipotle parking lot and noticed that I'd just parked by Tom's car. I decided that I'd wait until he came out and then talk to him because I really wanted to get my Smirky* back.
So he came out, and instead of one Tom, it was a long line of almost-Toms with the real Tom hidden in the middle. I had to look at each one carefully to figure out the real guy. When I found him, I walked up to him and said that we should get together and exchange our stuff. He agreed, and started to walk away. I was worried that I'd never actually get my bear back unless we set up a real time to do it, so I got his attention again and said that actually all I wanted was my bear and could I just go with him and get it right then?
He got really defensive and said that he didn't actually have to give it back because I had given it to him, and so it was his. I got extremely angry at that, and yelled something...then I calmed down a bit and kept pressing him about the bear. Finally he told me that he'd had a couple of "accidents" with the bear resulting in his nose (!?) and the Coca-Cola symbol (!?) "coming off" and he wasn't sure that I'd want my Smirky in his present condition. Of course I still wanted to go collect it, so we started off.
For some reason my parents were going with, and they were behind us. I think we were driving down a series of roads, and somehow my parents got left behind. I kept yelling out the turns we took, so they'd hear us, but they still got lost. And of course, Tom didn't want to stop or slow down to let them catch up. We got to a point, and jumped out, and went through some sort path, and then came out through a door and into his back yard in KY.
We walked inside and into the basement. It was really dark, and for some reason my Smirky was nowhere in sight. He gave me back the nose, and I put it in my pocket. The Tablet PC that I'd been using during the semeseter as a research study was also laying on the couch, so I picked that up and took it back. Tom tried to delete the internet favorites and history before I could turn it off, but I was faster. I told him that I had most of his things and that he could get them anytime he wanted. He said okay, and then my parents were there, and I left with them.
I arrived back in some sort of dorm room, where a girl was playing on a laptop (some sort of star trek thing where you had to enter a certain sequence on the Enterprise's computer to be able to exit). I rebooted the laptop and saw all the porn that Tom had looked at on the machine, and some things from work that he'd put on there. Then I opened the book I'd been reading (and incidentally, one I finished for real yesterday) and just started reading. The girl made a comment about how much I read, and then I woke up.
*Smirky is my stuffed Coca-Cola bear from when I was little. My aunt gave him to me when I was in second grade, and he's just the cutest ever. He has this guilty little grin (smirk), so I named him Smirky. I let Tom have him after he gave me _his_ stuffed animal from his childhood. But I think I was a bit more attached to Smirky than he was to his. I mean, I had him bring Smirks up to Pittsburgh one week when things were rough with school, and I've always regretted not just keeping him up there. And ever since we broke up, the only thing of mine I've wanted back at ALL from Tom was my Smirky. I really should get in touch with him and ask for it back, but I know I haven't because I'm afraid of something like the dream happening. But I know I have to do it soon...
I think I fell asleep thinking about Chipotle, so in the dream I was pulling into the Chipotle parking lot and noticed that I'd just parked by Tom's car. I decided that I'd wait until he came out and then talk to him because I really wanted to get my Smirky* back.
So he came out, and instead of one Tom, it was a long line of almost-Toms with the real Tom hidden in the middle. I had to look at each one carefully to figure out the real guy. When I found him, I walked up to him and said that we should get together and exchange our stuff. He agreed, and started to walk away. I was worried that I'd never actually get my bear back unless we set up a real time to do it, so I got his attention again and said that actually all I wanted was my bear and could I just go with him and get it right then?
He got really defensive and said that he didn't actually have to give it back because I had given it to him, and so it was his. I got extremely angry at that, and yelled something...then I calmed down a bit and kept pressing him about the bear. Finally he told me that he'd had a couple of "accidents" with the bear resulting in his nose (!?) and the Coca-Cola symbol (!?) "coming off" and he wasn't sure that I'd want my Smirky in his present condition. Of course I still wanted to go collect it, so we started off.
For some reason my parents were going with, and they were behind us. I think we were driving down a series of roads, and somehow my parents got left behind. I kept yelling out the turns we took, so they'd hear us, but they still got lost. And of course, Tom didn't want to stop or slow down to let them catch up. We got to a point, and jumped out, and went through some sort path, and then came out through a door and into his back yard in KY.
We walked inside and into the basement. It was really dark, and for some reason my Smirky was nowhere in sight. He gave me back the nose, and I put it in my pocket. The Tablet PC that I'd been using during the semeseter as a research study was also laying on the couch, so I picked that up and took it back. Tom tried to delete the internet favorites and history before I could turn it off, but I was faster. I told him that I had most of his things and that he could get them anytime he wanted. He said okay, and then my parents were there, and I left with them.
I arrived back in some sort of dorm room, where a girl was playing on a laptop (some sort of star trek thing where you had to enter a certain sequence on the Enterprise's computer to be able to exit). I rebooted the laptop and saw all the porn that Tom had looked at on the machine, and some things from work that he'd put on there. Then I opened the book I'd been reading (and incidentally, one I finished for real yesterday) and just started reading. The girl made a comment about how much I read, and then I woke up.
*Smirky is my stuffed Coca-Cola bear from when I was little. My aunt gave him to me when I was in second grade, and he's just the cutest ever. He has this guilty little grin (smirk), so I named him Smirky. I let Tom have him after he gave me _his_ stuffed animal from his childhood. But I think I was a bit more attached to Smirky than he was to his. I mean, I had him bring Smirks up to Pittsburgh one week when things were rough with school, and I've always regretted not just keeping him up there. And ever since we broke up, the only thing of mine I've wanted back at ALL from Tom was my Smirky. I really should get in touch with him and ask for it back, but I know I haven't because I'm afraid of something like the dream happening. But I know I have to do it soon...
02 June 2006
Never Thought I'd be so Glad
...To be stuck in traffic on 495.
There I was, tired and hungry on a Friday afternoon, stuck in traffic because a semi decided to flip itself over right in the middle of rush hour. (Not that such things are particularly unusual for DC traffic). I just wanted to get home. There wasn't even anything good on the radio. It was frustrating, and I kept flipping and flipping through the stations...and all of a sudden, DC101 was playing REALLY GOOD MUSIC, just like the old days. (Haha, yeah those golden times when I went to prep school and grunge was just as fashionable as lacrosse...)
They played "Everlong", "Santa Monica", 'When I Come Around", "Dance, Dance", something by Gorillaz, "Flagpole Sitta", "Heart Shaped Box", "Ants Marching","Mrs. Robinson" (the Lemonheads version)...the whole time I was sitting there, the good music just wouldn't stop. It was INCREDIBLE. I haven't spent that long on a radion station continuously in years. When I finally got up to where the truck had flipped over, the emergency crews were actually leaving - so all of a sudden I was at the front of traffic, and the beltway was WIDE OPEN. Hahahahahaha. (To all of you non-DC people that probably sounds lame. But being able to go 70 at 5:45 on a Friday afternoon on 495 is a major feat. Trust me. I mean...yeah, I'm pathetic.)
It felt good to crank the radio and drive along without a care in the world...and tomorrow morning I'm doing "Race for the Cure" with my mom's office in DC. It should be fun, I'm going to bring my camera. And then I'm going to lobby for going to church at Ft. Myer because I absolutely love that place. And then Sunday I'm going to watch a lot of Arrested Development with some people. The weekend feels like it's going to turn out so well...I like being busy enough to have things to do every day, but at the same have a lot of hours to myself, or in the case of the TV shows, time hanging out but not rushing everywhere. Summer is so good. Life without a workload like last semester...very very good indeed. And life in DC is most excellent.
There I was, tired and hungry on a Friday afternoon, stuck in traffic because a semi decided to flip itself over right in the middle of rush hour. (Not that such things are particularly unusual for DC traffic). I just wanted to get home. There wasn't even anything good on the radio. It was frustrating, and I kept flipping and flipping through the stations...and all of a sudden, DC101 was playing REALLY GOOD MUSIC, just like the old days. (Haha, yeah those golden times when I went to prep school and grunge was just as fashionable as lacrosse...)
They played "Everlong", "Santa Monica", 'When I Come Around", "Dance, Dance", something by Gorillaz, "Flagpole Sitta", "Heart Shaped Box", "Ants Marching","Mrs. Robinson" (the Lemonheads version)...the whole time I was sitting there, the good music just wouldn't stop. It was INCREDIBLE. I haven't spent that long on a radion station continuously in years. When I finally got up to where the truck had flipped over, the emergency crews were actually leaving - so all of a sudden I was at the front of traffic, and the beltway was WIDE OPEN. Hahahahahaha. (To all of you non-DC people that probably sounds lame. But being able to go 70 at 5:45 on a Friday afternoon on 495 is a major feat. Trust me. I mean...yeah, I'm pathetic.)
It felt good to crank the radio and drive along without a care in the world...and tomorrow morning I'm doing "Race for the Cure" with my mom's office in DC. It should be fun, I'm going to bring my camera. And then I'm going to lobby for going to church at Ft. Myer because I absolutely love that place. And then Sunday I'm going to watch a lot of Arrested Development with some people. The weekend feels like it's going to turn out so well...I like being busy enough to have things to do every day, but at the same have a lot of hours to myself, or in the case of the TV shows, time hanging out but not rushing everywhere. Summer is so good. Life without a workload like last semester...very very good indeed. And life in DC is most excellent.
01 June 2006
Everything but the Girl
Right now I feel like I understand less about everything going on in my life than I do about anything else. I have had so many confusing and frustrating conversations with so many people recently - or been in the middle of such situations involving others. I hate how people play games with each other. Everyone, myself included, seems to have their own special idiosyncracies, their own special reality, and none of it quite matches up with what is. I feel like I don't have a lot of patience for people right now, and I know that now is when I need to have it more than ever.
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