KB (No Toys)

So, there I was at American Eagle, minding my own business and trying to decide if I wanted to buy this one pair of shoes. I finally put them back on the shelf, and glanced around.

There she was. That Girl. Hmmm.

I started walking out to the mall, and turned around - for no good reason. Just to look, I guess. I saw her awkwardly trying to navigate a path out that didn't involve coming near me (and failing). I finished exiting, and took a left. I stopped and turned around again, thinking maybe I could or should talk to her. She turned the opposite way and kept going - I didn't follow.

I was surprised that seeing her didn't make me feel anything. No anger, no resentment, no sharp pangs of hurt. I thought perhaps it would hit me in a minute or two and I'd come home and write a terribly emotion-laden entry about how much life sucks and how I'll never have any self confidence again, and how - everything, but no. Really, I wish I'd gotten a chance to talk to her.

I didn't want a confrontation, I didn't want any hurtful exchanges - it just would have been nice to talk to her, and finally find out exactly what was going on for those 5 months. I wish I knew her at all, and knew what kind of a person she was - she honestly doesn't even look like the sort of person she'd been characterized as.

When I was a kid, the fact that I had that attitude would drive my parents nuts. I would let all sorts of things happen to me that should have been hurtful, or that I just shouldn't have put up with (from a kids on the playground perspective, nothing else lol). I couldn't get upset, though; I'd just want to get to know the people. I like people, and figuring out what makes people tick. As I've gotten older, of course, I've started to react a bit more. I couldn't have seen her a few months ago without feeling tremendously hurt, but I guess I'm really over it now.

This was the girl at the center of 90% of the tension that came up between myself and that one ex... Whenever I was around campus with him and he caught sight of her, he'd automatically push me away and make it look like we weren't together. She apparently used him, and apparently hurt him by "never being there" - looking back, I suspect that things weren't so simple as that. She's supposedly a heavy drug user, although again - she doesn't look like it. She's the girl that he never really had a clean breakup with, that caused him to lash out at me when he was talking to her online and I was anywhere remotely near the computer, that made him lapse into utter depression when she told him she'd been fucking his ex-roomie. This is the one that he never had a consistent story about, that he could never talk about without getting defensive. She was the one part of his life that he seemed totally unable to completely manipulate into something that would fit nicely into his self-created and imagined universe. In other words, she seemed to be the one thing that made him react genuinely to - anything. She probably is much better suited to him than I was.

My guess, although I'll never know for sure, is that I was simply the girl that looked better on paper. I had better grades, was more attractive, had a steady job and a plan for my life, was emotionally stable, knew how to really put others first, and wanted things like a family and kids. I was totally open to whatever manipulation he wanted to throw my way, and I let myself get pretty hurt. I was looking for someone who wanted the same things out of life as I did, and when I realized that he wasn't offering it, I just ignored that and tried to make it fit anyway.

My guess is that he felt obligated to date me, given my better qualifications, but was really more comfortable with her. She really did understand him better, I can't deny that. I felt jealous and threatened by her, and I think I was justified - I'm pretty observant and I can usually tell exactly how people are feeling. I should have walked away from the relationship instead of letting all those fights, all that hurt, all that resentment totally ruin things - maybe I could have been a better friend for some of the things that really mattered, instead of letting those things drive me away even more and make me completely incapable of having any sort of real empathy. I think I'm always going to be sure that he was either fucking her, or at the very least, spending more time with her than he let on, for at least some of the time during our relationship.

In some ways, I can't blame him for that. Everyone needs someone they can relate to. We were so diametrically opposed in some ways, and I am so idealistic and - just naive - that we didn't really relate much. What hurt the most was that it always ended up feeling like there was nobody left there for ME - nobody close to me, no person that I could trust absolutely, rely on, nobody that actually understood me and wanted to be with me for my spirit (vs my resume...) I've always wanted to have that "dating my best friend" feeling, and - it just wasn't there. I always ended up feeling just - cold, and alien, and awkward. I wasn't myself at all.

I did learn a lot more about what I'm looking for, though, and I did learn quite a bit about trusting my instincts and intuition. I know that it's going to be awhile before I date anyone again, because I realized this evening that while seeing Kara didn't upset me at all - I'm still getting rid of a lot of attitudes, assumptions, perspectives, and - emotional baggage (sorry to be emo) - that I've been slowly gathering up over the past few years. I'm going to have to be totally back to myself - back to good, if you will - before it's even possible for anyone to approach me and interact with me the way I really need. (Right? I need to be all the way myself before anyone else can appreciate me for who I am...makes sense...)

So, the past is all done now, thankfully. The summer's been a good time for me to start feeling like myself again. I wish him (and her) nothing but the best.

Gymnastically Inclined

Usually, I ignore the voices in my head. Normally they're telling me to do things like go make a big distraction on stage during a particularly boring monologue in a show I'm watching, or to tell annoying kids in lecture to shut up, or to jump off a bridge just to make sure gravity really works*, or something similarly ridiculous. I ignore the impulse, and it goes away.

However, I went for a jog this morning in celebration of the fact that it's just a freaking beautiful day, and...

Hey Jenn, do a cartwheel!

What? I don't remember how to cartwheel. I haven't done that in 11 or 12 years...

It's like riding a bike, silly! You never forget.

But I'll hurt myself; the sidewalk looks pretty rough.

Go on the grass, then...

What, are you NUTS?? I'm not going to cartwheel right by the side of the road!

No, over there. See? Nice open field area. There's nobody around...

Okay. I can't reason with myself anymore.

I jogged over to the grass, put my discman down, and did a cartwheel. Poorly. I'm glad nobody saw.

It was kind of fun, so I did another. And another.

Three was enough. No more impulse, and besides, an old man walking his dog was approaching in the distance.

I got up, and jogged off. It was an excellent morning.

*Please don't read anything into this. I'm not suicidal or unbalanced. My personality is of the extremely skeptical sort such that I have this terrible urge to just test things, constantly. I know damn well that "gravity works" and believe me, I know how to ignore the random bad ideas that cross everyone's mind occasionally. Plus many of the bridges in Pittsburgh (the only place I've been with an abundance of bridges) already have suicide guards.

Fears

For some reason, I've got a whole year to go and yet I'm still completely freaked out about graduating next May and then being out on my own. I'm so afraid of being out in the real world myself - it's mostly irrational; I know that I'll know a lot of people in the area, and that I'll settle in, and it'll be fine. I won't be friendless and abandoned, I won't be struggling through a job I hate, I won't even be far from my family. None of that is going to be a concern, and yet I'm still terrified.

Things seemed to change pretty quickly this summer. Looking at where I was, where I'm going, and where I thought I'd be - I'm realizing now that I wasn't where I thought I was in the first place, I'm going in a totally different direction than I really expected I would, and that I really have less of an idea now than I've ever had about what life is going to be like 10 short months from now.

I've never really run into this before...no matter what, I've been able to ground and comfort myself, and have nothing but a pretty positive, adventurous outlook on my situation. This summer (more in the past week or so) I've started really admitting to myself that I don't actually want to stay aloof from the entire world, and that to do so would be nearly unbearable...so I guess in some ways I'm facing down everything I've been afraid of before in terms of actually making lasting friendships and putting forth a real effort for making my life something I really enjoy living.

Maybe all of that sounds awful, I don't know. I'm not saying that I've been carrying on some sort of nihilistic, misanthropic, masochistic existence - far from it, in fact. But it's also true that for a long time now I've had myself on this sort of autopilot - I've tried to exist a few feet outside myself, maybe like I was playing an elaborate game of The Sims with myself as the only character. It's nothing more than a defense mechanism, of course, and it's really breaking down, which I actually think is going to be a good thing for me in the long run. It's scary, but I know I'll be much happier in the long run if I actually slow down, face this, and really get myself back inside my own head.

Mini-Vacation

This past weekend was really good. On Friday I flew out to visit Kathryn! I was pretty exhausted but her Mom had an amazing dinner prepared and then afterward we rented and watched "The History Boys." It was an interesting movie - most of it was dialogue, but tossed around some concepts I hadn't really considered before.

I then proceeded to pass out for the next 10-11 hours. I keep doing that - not sleeping much over a week, and then binging on sleep when the weekend comes.

Saturday we headed out to a water park near Dayton. It was a smallish place, but I was actually kind of taken by how well kept it was and how many people were there. I couldn't help noticing, actually, for the whole weekend how NICE Dayton actually is. It made me think back to when we moved away and how I thought I was so above it, etc. but being a few years older now and having lived in some TRULY sketchy areas - I can actually appreciate the place for what it was. I can see myself (scary as this is, kind of) happily raising a family there.

Saturday evening Kathryn had a handful of the group from high school over, and we spent the evening playing Munchkin and catching up on life. I hadn't seen a couple of the girls since Senior year...so, it was a good visit. I really didn't feel like many of us had actually changed that much, which was a bit of a surprise - although again, I'm not sure what I was really expecting. I took a couple group photos and made the usual plans to do better about keeping in touch, etc.

On Sunday we slept in again, got up, and went to Mass. I like Kathryn's church, it has a really comfy atmosphere. The closing song was "Anthem" which is one of my favorites from childhood. I realized that the way I was hearing it in my head was half of what the people around me were singing, and half of what I remembered from being in grade school and belting my heart out with a bunch of other enthusiastic little 8 year olds. It reminded me of a conversation I had with a friend of mine a couple weeks ago when we were debating about various types of religious music. He was making the (really valid) point that a lot of contemporary music goes a lot further in terms of making the audience really enthusiastic about faith. I'm a lot more comfortable with the traditional music I grew up with, but I realized that to an 8 year old (maybe JUST that 8 year old; I was a pretty strange kid) that traditional music packed the same punch as the contemporary stuff does for people now. It sounded completely different to my older ears, of course...this summer I've really started questioning how strongly I hold onto tradition (see previous entry...)

Anyway, Mass was good. We came home and Kathryn's mom cooked this delicious Sunday dinner (ham and potatoes and green beans and other veggies from the garden) - and then Kathryn and I just chilled out for a few more hours until it was time to go to the airport.

My flight home was delayed, of course, but it was okay since I picked up the new Harry Potter book at the airport. I finally got home about 3 hours after I was originally supposed to - it could have been much worse, I suppose.

Today I stayed home from work and finished reading Harry Potter. I'm still digesting it, but overall it was a pretty solid work, methinks...

Little Moments

This week has been full of small moments that just made me feel - good.

I was driving back from my parents' house Sunday, and I was pretty deep in thought. Traffic was kind of heavy, so I was paying pretty close attention to the traffic around me. This one car moved over from the lane next to me, and its license plate made me smile. It said, "Namaste."

Tuesday evening I had dinner with a good friend of mine, and we got dessert at the gelatto place in the mall. We were walking back out through Nordstroms, and took the escalator down to the first level, passing in front of the piano. I realized that the old man sitting there was playing "Over the Rainbow" (more on that below) - for some reason, it just made me happy, so I looked at the old guy and grinned. He smiled back with a smile that said "Yes, I understand completely..."

Tonight I was at a minor league baseball game, and this one guy started flirting with me. At first I thought he was drunk, but then I realized that he was actually mentally handicapped. It was an interesting interaction, because on one hand I didn't want to get myself into a sticky situation when he asked me on a date (which I did turn down politely but firmly as I would have with any person I'd just met within the last 2 minutes), and on the other hand I could tell that he just wanted to talk to someone without that person patronizing him. I sat with him for a few minutes and we shot the shit, and then I excused myself. He seemed to enjoy talking to me, and I guess that's what matters...

In other news.

Right now I'm listening to more Eric Clapton, this time *his* cover of "Over the Rainbow." It reminds me of this one time in high school; it must have been junior or senior year. I came in right at curfew one Friday or Saturday night sometime in late October - the time when the trees have turned, and the weather is deeply chilly without being frosty. I'd been out with Katie, Kathryn, Matt, Vicky, and some others in Fairborn. We'd done the traditional haunted house + show at the actor's theater on Main street (your classic 100 or 200 seat theater that puts on a Halloweeen themed play every October...) and I think it was also the first year that I was finally brave enough to watch the electric chair go off at Foy's. In any case, it was a great evening. Halloween in Fairborn is one of those classic, hometown, Apple-pie sorts of events.

I pulled up in the driveway, walked in, and stopped in the living room where my Dad was sitting up, waiting for me. I never really thought about it, but I guess the fact that either he or my Mom was always up waiting for me when I came in really meant something. Dad was watching an Eric Clapton concert on T.V. and was pretty zoned out when I walked in. We greeted each other, and then both our attentions drifted back to the T.V. I stood there watching for 5 or 10 minutes, letting the music stretch out an already awesome night for a few more minutes. "Over the Rainbow" was one of the songs we listened to, and now I always associate it with that deep, comfortable, settled feeling that seems to come out in the fall.

I used to worry that I wouldn't be happy with my life unless it continued in the same way it always had when I was a kid, and unless I was doing the same sorts of things my parents always did. This summer has really done wonders to change that perspective, though. I'm slowly getting my feet down, finding my comfort zone, and coming to terms with the fact that my life really is my own and that it's going to be quite different than what I grew up with. More importantly, though, I'm learning that I'm actually happy with finding my own way. (This relates in some way to the preceding two paragraphs but I can't figure out how to express it...)

Garbage

The fact that someone acts nice and polite in the face of your condescension should not, by any means, be an indication that they don't realize fully fucking well what you're actually trying to say or imply.

FUCK!

Soul Food

I love my parents. Really, I do.

Yesterday I skipped work and drove to NOVA. I picked up my Mom from the place where she works, and she took me out to lunch. Then I dropped her back off and did some grocery shopping for her at Wegmans. (Wegmans, by the way, is one of the most amazing grocery stores ever - and this opinion from the girl that hates shopping.) I got the stuff home and took a nap, and woke up a few hours later to smell FOOD. I had an incredible steak dinner (and some excellent wine) with my parents, complete with the usual substantive conversation and watching a replay of the day's earlier Tour de France segment.

My parents are such nerds. I love them so much. The older I get, the more I really appreciate having a HOME to go back to, having support and love that I can always rely on, and having two of the best friends anyone could ask for. It's strange because I'm becoming more and more independent, but at the same time I'm getting a lot closer to them emotionally. It's a good balance, I think. I'm relying on myself, and learning how important it is to be surrounded by good people - and to be there for all the good people in your own life. More than anything, trips home like that help me keep my perspective. Dad gave me the same advice he gives for most things...

"Well, just keep your sense of humor about it, and you'll be fine."

How true.

Layla

It's been awhile since I've mentioned anything controversial on here, so here's my most recent thought: the song "Layla" as performed by Eric Clapton (the "Derek and the Dominoes" version) is quite possibly one of the best - if not the best - rock songs ever.

First, the lyrics. Given that they're pretty succinct, here they are:

"What'll you do when you get lonely
And nobody's waiting by your side?
You've been running and hiding much too long.
You know it's just your foolish pride.

Layla, you've got me on my knees.
Layla, I'm begging, darling please.
Layla, darling won't you ease my worried mind.

I tried to give you consolation
When your old man had let you down.
Like a fool, I fell in love with you,
Turned my whole world upside down.

Let's make the best of the situation
Before I finally go insane.
Please don't say we'll never find a way
And tell me all my love's in vain."

These verses boast two remarkable traits. First, they manage to convey just the right amount of jagged emotion without overemphasizing the point. These are some terse, heartfelt statements made by a man who is willing to bare his soul without sacrificing his pride. He is the unfortunate victim of unrequited love, but unlike most, he is not willing to be made inferior to his lover and her choices. Second, the lines scan beautifully. The chorus rests on the tried-and-true iambic tetrameter scheme to present its no-frills plea for affection. Eric Clapton's performance here is crucial - so many artists tend to abuse the lyrical quality of iambs into empty, meaningless, bubble-gum phrases. He performs flawlessly, though. The verses use a rhythm scheme that is complex enough to contrast nicely with the chorus without becoming arduous.

Moving onto the music itself. There's little I can say about its mechanics that isn't already mentioned in the Wikipedia article dedicated to this song. I will mention, however, the amazing progression that occurs as the song wends, meanders, and paces itself to its finish. Anyone who really stops to listen can actually HEAR the oh-so-familiar emotional process that so many people experience. I love how the wailing never really goes away; it just changes intensity as his inner dialogue argues, begs, and waits. It seems to represent, in some sense, the wild, impulsive, passionate side of human nature that will almost always flail against the card dealt it by fate. The final minute of the song eases into a noticeably calmer tone as he finally reaches his hard-won respite, and sounds like a good night's sleep after a long, never-wracking, day.

Key to the success of the entire song is the fact that most of it is instrumental, allowing the emotional/musical dialogue to mold itself entirely to the listener. Words don't work here because this dialogue turns out differently for different people.

The past two nights have been the first nights where I've slept really deeply in a few weeks. Per the usual, last night I had some pretty strange/vivid dreams.

-I was somewhere in a marketplace or something, and someone was selling me a pouch for water. It was almost hilariously identical to the ones referred to in the Bible. I bought it, and took it home with me, and somehow I modified my stuffed tiger by taking out all of his stuffing and putting the water pouch inside him. I filled him up with water and carried him around, struggling to hold him so that the water would stay inside and almost holding him like a real kitty. Then I turned him upside down, and for some reason, the dream me was astonished to see all of the water running out.

-Then I was in a school somewhere. It was a lot newer, neater, cleanier, shinier than any school I'd been in before. I walked around for awhile, and most of the classrooms were empty. I remembered that I had to go to this one auditorium to finish up some sort of project for a class I was in. All we had to do was inflate a couple balloons with helium for various members of our family, and the balloons were going to be judged based on how many we did and based on some sort of artistic quality. I got really confused on the subjectiveness because I couldn't understand what the old asian at the table was telling me. At one point it seemed like he wanted me to make 4 and have them be two sets of two different styles, but at another point it sounded like he just wanted two, and even on top of that I couldn't understand how balloons could be anything other than balloons - how would they have styles? After I got good and flustered, I started talking to the guy who appeared to be the TA for the class. He said he could write me down to do either 2 or 5, and apparently it would be safer for me to get put down for 2 and maybe do more than to be put down for 5. It also seemed like it wouldn't really matter what I did. After I got all situated and written down in his gradebook, I got ready to go. When I was about to walk out, I accidentally took a step toward him, and brought my arms up an inch or two. I caught myself and started to walk away, but he reached out and hugged me for a long time. He didn't look or act like anyone I know in real life.

After that I had another class, and it was supposed to be a class about terrible things. I don't know any better way to describe it. We were supposed to learn about awful, scary, gruesome...things...and then do something with the knowledge. That day the class was in another auditorium and we were watching some kind of movie. When I walked in, the movie had already started. For some reason, at first I sat in a seat near the front and off to the side a bit, and it was hard to see the screen. The flick was about taxicabs and the way they wreck and people die - there were some other topics mentioned, but I don't remember what they were anymore. After a few minutes, I decided I wanted to see more of the gruesome stuff going on, so I moved (for whatever illogical reason) to the very front row, in the exact center. When I got there, there weren't many seats open. I walked to one that looked like it would be okay, and all of a sudden the seat was a little pink chair/stepping stool thing. I couldn't see the screen any better (in fact, it was worse) and I was sitting in some embarassing little getup.

End of dreams.

Eat, Pray, Love

I read a book while I was in FL earlier this summer by the above title, and it is one of the best memoirs I've read. One of the author's themes was simply that we are all personally responsible for ensuring our own happiness.

Yesterday after work (RIGHT after work) some of my co-workers took me out to have my first official beer, which was really cool. They're great people. The only problem was that drinking right after work (one beer turned into a beer sampler, and thankfully I had help with it!!!) ended up pretty much canceling any other plans I might have made, or wanted to make, for the evening. I was kind of bummed about it, especially given my past record with birthdays*, but really - that's just part of life. Next time I'll think about it more carefully.




*The ultimate proof of the existence of self-fulfilling prophecies. One of these years, though, I will put it back in its place.

Heroes

Tomorrow marks 7 years since my grandfather died. It was the summer between 8th grade and freshman year of high school. I remember celebrating my brithday with my friends the day before, and I remember the road trip we took later that summer that involved staying for 2 nights at that big, empty, house in New Mexico where everything was the same as it had always been, except Grandpa wasn't there.

I don't know how many people tend to remember things like their grandparents' passing away. I certainly don't have as much emotion attached to my grandmother's death as I do to this, even though Grandma was an amazing woman.

Thinking back over Grandpa's life - what I knew of him as well as what my Dad, grandmother, and Aunt have said - always gives me the same feeling anyone gets after watching a really inspiring movie or reading some great work of literature. It's hard to imagine working so hard, accomplishing so much, and doing so while still being one so kind, honest, compassionate, and caring so much for a family. It makes me want to ensure that that tradition and legacy doesn't just stop. For some reason, I always imagine living in New Mexico and travelling in outer space when I think of following in his footsteps. I imagine long trips, fascinating friends, having the parish priest over for dinner, and celebrating Christmas anywhere and everywhere.

7 years ago I wouldn't have imagined that this is where I'd be now. 7 years ago I was about to start high school; I was only dimly aware that some day I'd actually be out on my own working at a real job and starting my own life. I certainly hadn't completely wrapped my head around the difference between hopes/dreams and reality. I wouldn't have believed it for an instant if anyone had told me all of the amazing things that would happen in these intervening years, and I'm really glad that there was no way for me to have forseen some of the horrors I'd face also.

I guess it makes sense that this summer I'd worry more about where my life is going than I have before. I've ranted about that enough here before, so I'll skip the rehashing.

This past week hasn't been easy. I've gone through more drama and spent more hours being tense and worried than I have in a long time (thankfully). I've experienced firsthand the result of being so frustrated about one's life that one simply forgets how to accept the current reality. Actually, I've experienced the same kind of thing, in two completely different situations.

Comfortingly enough, though, I've also had some of the most satisfying conversations I've had in a long time. My Dad was talking about some friends of his that never had kids, and that had incredible careers instead, and he made a point of telling me and my brother how GLAD he is that he had kids instead. (I still think he's done a hell of alot, but that's another aside...) He's given me a lot of advice about the directions I might consider for my life, and I'm pretty excited for what lies ahead. The more I get to know my Dad, the more I really respect him, too. When I was a kid I took it for granted that pretty much everyone's Dad must be pretty much the same, but that's of course not true. I'm just glad that I'm getting the chances now that I am to talk with him as much as we do, and to hear his advice and perspectives as often as I do. I know that he won't always be here, either.

Loss isn't an easy thing to deal with. I lost a good friend this week, or it seems as though I did, at least. It's funny to think that he's still as alive as ever, but perhaps won't be a part of my life any more, and in a lot of ways it seems that I've died to him. I've done a lot of thinking about that situation, in between the other drama, and it's hard to explain the conclusion I've reached. I feel in some ways that what happened was inevitable - not that I would have, believe it or not, planned any of what happened, but I can see how the whole situation makes sense, unfortunately. I'm not sure what I could have done differently, and I'm positive that trying to explain my actions wouldn't change any of the hurt feelings, or do anything to change his opinion of me now. It hurt to see the way he characterized me in his reactions to everything that happened, but again...there's nothing I can really do. For some reason, I have this mental image of me holding my breath with my arms crossed, watching a door shut in front of me. I can only hope that some good of this comes for him, at least in terms of his feelings about himself. (If you're reading this - no, I didn't miss the significance of your giving me a French name, nor did I realize that you didn't intend for me to see that until I thought about it later. In any case, I do miss your friendship.)

So.

I'm still learning. I'm still not the person I'd like to be, but I'm not afraid of myself anymore. Maybe it's because right now I need to have some self confidence, or I won't have anything to stand on a year from now, or maybe it's because there's actually something there. I've seen enough in the past week to know the dangers of relying too much on one's own perceptions, but I'm still willing to stand on my own feet a bit here.

And, Grandpa? I miss you.