Happy Holiday Break

Oh internet, I'm in such a good mood.  I was so grumpy and stressed and worried.  And I could still be all those things for all the same reasons, but Thanksgiving break has started and I just want to feel good.  I'm going on an adventure tomorrow.  I'm seeing William.  I have 5 days off of school.  Conferences are over and holiday cheer is everywhere.

Treated myself to adorable glitter birds and a gold wicker star for my tree.

Virginia

This song popped up on my facebook newsfeed today.  I've heard it before and honestly, I was a little obsessed with it this past spring (I think it was spring… there are no seasons here, and I can't tell time).  It's just some song off the solo album of some guy I had a huge crush on my freshman year of college, but like MAN… somehow it just evokes all these Virginia summer/fall memories.  Like Apple Weekend with E$ or like anything at William and Mary  or like being a kid and playing outside by the little "creeks" that ran between houses and under roads.  I dunno.  Somehow this song paints a picture.  And makes me long for home even more.  And then for someone to run away from home with.

Virginia - The Currys - The Avon Street Sessions

Killing me Softly with His Stairway to Heaven

One night when I was around sixteen, I went down into my basement with the composition book I kept  my thoughts in.  I put Zoso on our novelty record player, dimmed the lights, and lay down on my stomach.  I rested my head on the open pages of my journal, occasionally lifting my pencil to write.  Mostly I just lay there.  And felt empty.  I'd had a lot of stress that year, and by that point I had kind of given up.

My sixteen year old mind had decided that the crux of my issues was being alone.  Always slower to develop, I hadn't been in a relationship, had my first kiss, held hands, anything.  Looking back, I know that I wasn't behind at all.  But when I was 16, all I could see was my best friends pairing up.  All I could hear was talk about sex.  And I just wanted to be in love.  Desperately.

I had my first crush when I was four.  I'd been waiting a long time.

Every seven minutes or so, I'd push myself up on my arms and pull the record needle back.  Carelessly finding the fourth groove in the record and laying back down, squinting in the dark at my pencil marks.

I remembered being in fifth grade, when it seemed like everyone in the class was "dating" except me.  It didn't really upset me at the time because we were all just playing, but it did feel kind of unfair.

I thought about the back of the bus on marching band trips, where couples cuddled under blankets.  And even though I refused to believe it at the time, did a lot more.

I wrote about being alone.  Always.  Forever.  How it wouldn't change.  I asked "what's so wrong with me anyway?"  I was dealing with a lot more, but I poured it all into this.

A lot of time was spent willing myself to melt into the floor, listening to arpeggios.  Picturing dark woods, creaking signs, and golden staircases.  And restarting the song.

I felt so hopeless then.

Like nothing would ever change.

The interesting thing, of course, is that the next day, the guy I had given up hope on reached out and grabbed my hand.  "Are you still looking for that boy?"  He had clearly planned that one.

The girls of our group would often dramatically lament, "I just want a boy!"  We'd literally throw our hands in the air,  "I want a boy, so he can …." I don't even remember what we thought a good boyfriend would be, we just knew we wanted one.

His palms were sweaty and he kept reflexively licking his lips.  Of course, I said yes.  I'd had a crush on him for an embarrassing number of months and didn't have the experience, confidence, or knowledge to act on it.

And you know, I've had some great relationships since then.  I wasn't malfunctioned after all.  I was just moving at a different pace from everyone else.

Story of my life.

Which explains why I'm lying on my carpet.  Recording my thoughts.  Listening to Killing Me Softly With His Song by the Fugees on repeat.

It's okay Mel.  That so many people you know are married and having kids.  But you still can't afford to have a pet and haven't been in any relationship for more than a year and want to keep moving around.  It's all okay.  You're not malfunctioned after all.  You're just moving at a different pace from everyone else.

Holiday Cheer

I know I should have waited.  And I tried.  I really did.  But I went to Target yesterday and it was all holidayed up and how could I resist?

I have a grand total of 3 ornaments and one silver garland I stole from work last year.

 Also I know I look grumpy, but look at how much hair I had this time last year.  #missit

Swing

You know, for all the complaints and cranky I've got lately.  I'm really enjoying swing class.  Movement, music, human connection.  It's all incredibly soothing.  Especially when I'm just trying to power through until I can move in June.

Big Picture

I may have written this post before.  Or else, I've just thought about it a lot.  Sorry if it's a repeat.

You never know when you meet somehow if they'll be important in your life.  Sometimes you think you know, and just as often you are wrong.


When I met Nate, all I knew was that he reminded me of my friend Richie from high school.  He cracked a lot of a jokes and was easy to talk to.  If you had told me he'd become my longest running, most reliable friendship, I'd have laughed in you face.  Especially after that first year when I started getting SO DAMN MAD AT HIM ALL THE TIME.  But here we are.  A year and a half from our 10 year friendiversary.  Practically Ted and Marshall.


Or Andy.  Sure he seemed cool.  But when we first met, I just wanted to hang out at a party with him.  It didn't really seem like we had more going for us than that.  I had just come off of a bad relationship and wasn't looking for anything serious.   But then he wanted to go out.  And I was sooooo ambivalent towards him.  So not sure what or why I was bothering with this kid.  He seemed so serious about me.  So into me.  It was off-putting.  I kept him at arms length.  If you were to tell me then, that whole first 6 months or so, that he would be the first and only person I've ever seriously thought about forever with, it wouldn't have made sense.

You couldn't have convinced me I'd hold onto him so long after we broke up.  I still can't make sense of the years I kept that sweater in my closet.

And then there was Luke.  When we met, I was certain he was important.  And he wasn't.  Not at all.

Or Willow.  Same thing.  Another grain of sand slipping through the fingers of time.

You just don't know.  You don't know who will last.  Who will matter.

I still wonder if Nate and I will be friends in another 8 years.  I wonder if Andy and I will ever be friendly again.  I wonder if anyone else floating around me will be more or less important than I realize.  I guess I'll have to wait and find out.

Driving Sux

I think the pieces of my spine have fused together.  And then the base of it has been welded to my hips.  Driving so long for so often is literally melting my bones together.  It's a wonder I can stand at all.

My knees... correction knee, the one attached to my right foot attached to the pedal... creaks and aches. It isn't getting fused together.  It's getting ground away.  One day there won't be anything there at all, just two long bones, jiggling around every which way because they aren't long enough to touch anymore and all the tendons have relaxed like overused hair bands.

I've run out of things to think about while I drive.  Or maybe I have too many.  The point is, I fixate on about 3 topics.  There's only so much planning I can do for my move before I know where I'm going.  I've started replaying old This American Life's because the songs on the radio don't change fast enough.  I can only listen to Avicii's Wake Me Up 7 times a day, no matter how much I love the song.

I come home and it's so late.  I should be paid for time on the road.  I'm still thinking about school most times.

If I can think at all.

Sometimes I just stare into the distance.  I've memorized the rivets on the Bay Bridge.  I read the plaques I never knew about as I sit there, stopped for 20 minutes everyday.  I've memorized the plaques.

I hate driving.

I miss nature.  I miss air.

I leave my bottled air apartment for my bottled air car to go to my bottled air classroom.  It's a good thing I work in a portable or I'd never see sunshine or smell trees or know the weather at all.

I don't sit during the day.

I don't think I'm allowed.  I use up my quota on the road.

There's gotta be a better way to get to work.  Next time.  I'm living biking/walking/public transpo distance from my school.  I've gotta.  I've just gotta.