I am sitting in a Panera, utilizing their free wi-fi. (It is nice wi-fi, too, and free. Most importantly free.) I am still a little tired from driving here from Cashville on four hours of sleep, at five in the morning. I am never awake at five in the morning and I almost fell asleep at nine-thirty on the interstate outside of Atlanta. Luckily the traffic is always terrible in this city, and I was required to be very awake to navigate the lanes. I will not be making such a drive again. But I left in the still darkness and filled up my car in Murfreesboro for $1.47 a gallon and watched the sun rise as I traveled east. I had my sister's Twilight soundtrack CD to keep me company and the warmth of the December air. (Seriously, it's been in the sixes and seventies. In December. For most of December.)
I had to work at the gym and arrived a scant two minutes late in the parking lot for my shift. Ki, one of the personal trainers, had assembled a mostly vegan brunch for myself and my coworker, which was incredibly sweet and a lovely meal after my ride. I worked, went to Lottie's for an hour and a half, and went to babysit L and C. They were surprisingly good. I ate an entire small Mellow Mushroom pizza with black olives and sundried tomatoes and basil, and they shared a half cheese and half pepperoni. It was very nice to be paid to go out and eat a $12 pizza. (I maintain they should not charge me so much if I do not ask for cheese, but no one has ever asked my opinion on this.) I put the kids to bed and fell asleep for a little part of House. Then their parents got home and I went to Lot's and fell asleep for real, until 9:45, when I got up to go babysit L and C again, from 10:30 to 4:20. It was a low-key day, with much television, three rounds of Pretty Princess, and almost an hour outside enjoying the weather. I was also treated to the vegan waffles in their freeze (or, rather, treated myself). Then I went to the cinema with the intention of seeing Twilight. (Despite my enormous dislike of the message of the series and its insipid writing and shallow character develop and ridiculous plot, I nonetheless slightly enjoyed the movie). However, they weren't playing it at the theater I went to, and thus I decided to enjoy some internet time. Which led to me sitting in Panera, checking up on things and uploading Christmas morning onto my new Flickr account and blogging about all of it.
One of the blogs I read features a lady who has taken it upon herself to take one picture of something every day at the same time. I wonder what kind of carrying case she has for her camera. Not the kind I have, I suspect. But I thought that the once-a-day idea was clever and I will endeavor to make a list of things I should do every day as well.
The first thing on my list will be to get more than four hours of sleep.
Monday, December 29, 2008
Thursday, December 18, 2008
This is a different kind of happiness. More soothing, more stable. Gives me an undisputed place in the world. I work. My success in this endeavor depends largely on my skill rather than the whims of personality and circumstances, though circumstances certainly do play a role in employment. I am going to be Editor-in-Chief and I am so proud to think those words. A dawning awareness that I will likely succeed in feeding and clothing myself--and beyond—is trickling down to my conscience. I have the tools to live a satisfying American life, as defined by me. I am aware that I will fail sometimes, but will unlikely fall far enough to necessitate moving to my parents’ house. I think back to the other times I have failed and realize that they were gifts. The RA job in particular comes to mind.
I am sitting in the same house, on the same couch, as I did barely four months ago and my world has shifted again. Being on my own gives me clarity, and a degree of narcissism while I’m by myself, but what else is there to think about when I am alone? I put too much of myself into relationships too early, and I’ve gained a lot of wisdom from last year, but I also know how easy it is to toss every morsel of knowledge and understanding when she is in the room. I am wondering about my future. The next month is planned out but uncertain—it is a challenge to be as independent as I wish to be. I have never navigated a Christmas break here before; I have never navigated so much temporary housing. It’s interesting.
I think that is what I will remember about this semester, and probably this year, and possibly the next two years: the transitions. Sleeping in different beds and playing with different kids and sitting in different fabulously expensive houses and driving home at midnight; one; two; three; four in the morning. Clutching hundred dollar checks for spending five hours in a renovated meat packing plant with a Chihuahua puppy and kids disinterested in authority. I am phone calls to parents and endless hours of On Demand television and doing laundry in Brooks’ house. My home is cramped and temporary but I miss it. I have decided it is probably prudent to cease buying possessions and to live in the dorms—wherever I go from here, it will require a move. And moves are fucking expensive.
I am glad for work and going home in less than a week. I like being alone, and I love being away from campus (if I could just carve out my suite and take it away, it would be lovely), but I turn into an unhappy camper without friends. As one should.
I am sitting in the same house, on the same couch, as I did barely four months ago and my world has shifted again. Being on my own gives me clarity, and a degree of narcissism while I’m by myself, but what else is there to think about when I am alone? I put too much of myself into relationships too early, and I’ve gained a lot of wisdom from last year, but I also know how easy it is to toss every morsel of knowledge and understanding when she is in the room. I am wondering about my future. The next month is planned out but uncertain—it is a challenge to be as independent as I wish to be. I have never navigated a Christmas break here before; I have never navigated so much temporary housing. It’s interesting.
I think that is what I will remember about this semester, and probably this year, and possibly the next two years: the transitions. Sleeping in different beds and playing with different kids and sitting in different fabulously expensive houses and driving home at midnight; one; two; three; four in the morning. Clutching hundred dollar checks for spending five hours in a renovated meat packing plant with a Chihuahua puppy and kids disinterested in authority. I am phone calls to parents and endless hours of On Demand television and doing laundry in Brooks’ house. My home is cramped and temporary but I miss it. I have decided it is probably prudent to cease buying possessions and to live in the dorms—wherever I go from here, it will require a move. And moves are fucking expensive.
I am glad for work and going home in less than a week. I like being alone, and I love being away from campus (if I could just carve out my suite and take it away, it would be lovely), but I turn into an unhappy camper without friends. As one should.
Wednesday, December 17, 2008
Also, Ra called and informed me that I am one of the (or the, don't remember) most requested babysitters she has. :)
Way to make a girl feel all tingly. At this point last year, I felt high as a kite because of a crush. This year, it's because I've worked to accomplish good grades and a good rapport among the families for whom I babysit. It is more satisfying to feel a high from option a than option b. :)
Way to make a girl feel all tingly. At this point last year, I felt high as a kite because of a crush. This year, it's because I've worked to accomplish good grades and a good rapport among the families for whom I babysit. It is more satisfying to feel a high from option a than option b. :)
on being nomadic
I am sitting in the living room in the house I used to live in over the summer. A lot of things have changed. The coffee table holds the TV and there is no coffee table. The entire house smells like cologne. The bathtub has grown hair and an ashtray, which was filled until D emptied it (I presume). The kitchen is a god-awful wreck. (On second thought, this last statement was probably true when I lived here, too, but I hadn't had a semester of living with G and M then.) Most importantly, none of my stuff is here, and I'm sleeping on the couch while my bedroom is empty, waiting on a sublet who won't come until after I leave. I paid L twenty bucks for letting me stay here for three days, which I consider a little over the top. She's a lot more distant than when we were here together.
I would have offered her the fucking empty bedroom.
I digress, however. It's certainly interesting being essentially a fly on the wall to their lives. I worked out living arrangements with the family for whom I babysit frequently, so I'll go from here tonight to (maybe) B's house tomorrow, then definitely B's house for the weekend, then to my parents' house, then to the F's house, then to Portland, then finally back to my own home.
My friends always act surprised when I tell them that I hate traveling. This is a fact. I hate sleeping where other people have slept--it just has a weird vibe. I hate not being able to control my own schedule, which I suspect is the major cause of my dislike of traveling and will probably ease now that I have no parents dictating a schedule for everyone. I don't like figuring out where I am and (newly) working my schedule around other people's ability to be home. I really, really hate the smell of cologne.
But it's interesting. Now that I've been single lo these seven months in a city in which I have lived a year, with the closest friend at this point a good thirty minutes away, I'm relying more on myself. I can't travel with my room, so I travel with my cellphone, laptop, and iPod instead. I fill my days with work--which I find very satisfying. I got out of spin class on the Tuesday I left school and called the Fs to confirm a job for them the next day, called Brooks to confirm a job the next and to get instructions for that day, and called L to figure out when she was gonna be home. I worked for B until I had to leave to go to the other babysitting job. The secret to filling a person-void in your life is to fill it up with other people. And, of couse, with the real and valid satisifaction of doing a job for which you get paid quite a lot.
I woke up at 6:45 this morning after going to sleep at about one. Luckily C was sick, because I was definitely drifting in and out of The Little Mermaid, Ratatouille, and whatever else we watched. She was sweet, though, and we had fun at lunch. And of course, when her mom got home, I got housing. God bless the nanny profession. I really enjoy having a real house in which to spend my time. Maybe it's not so terrible that I live in a dorm and have limited ability to decorate it.
But oh how I miss it. I love how clean we are. I love that it's MY stuff. I like having my own closet and my own key. I like reliable internet I am legally allowed to access. I love the company--even though we spat occasionally, we also spend the wee hours of the morning dancing around to *NSYNC.
I am rethinking graduate school. I shouldn't get a Ph.D unless I really want to go into a profession that needs it. I want to be in publishing. (And I am now Co-Assistant Editor-in-Chief of the paper. Yeah, that's right. Say it fives times fast.) That's a MS/MA, or a BA, easily. And Portland is calling. But it is so very far away... I am looking forward to this trip. By the time January 6th rolls around, youth hostel housing should be a snap and a half.
EDIT: I have three solid As this semester (not sure what the fourth one is yet, but it pulled up my GPA to the point where I'm pretty sure everything's gonna be okay), got the Editor-in-Chief job for next year, have money, am taking a trip to the city I love reading about, definitely have housing as of three minutes ago, and currently have the gift of alone time.
Tomorrow I will be able to shower, shave, and pick up my Netflix. As much as it terrors me to write this, because things that go up always must go down, life is going pretty well at the moment.
I would have offered her the fucking empty bedroom.
I digress, however. It's certainly interesting being essentially a fly on the wall to their lives. I worked out living arrangements with the family for whom I babysit frequently, so I'll go from here tonight to (maybe) B's house tomorrow, then definitely B's house for the weekend, then to my parents' house, then to the F's house, then to Portland, then finally back to my own home.
My friends always act surprised when I tell them that I hate traveling. This is a fact. I hate sleeping where other people have slept--it just has a weird vibe. I hate not being able to control my own schedule, which I suspect is the major cause of my dislike of traveling and will probably ease now that I have no parents dictating a schedule for everyone. I don't like figuring out where I am and (newly) working my schedule around other people's ability to be home. I really, really hate the smell of cologne.
But it's interesting. Now that I've been single lo these seven months in a city in which I have lived a year, with the closest friend at this point a good thirty minutes away, I'm relying more on myself. I can't travel with my room, so I travel with my cellphone, laptop, and iPod instead. I fill my days with work--which I find very satisfying. I got out of spin class on the Tuesday I left school and called the Fs to confirm a job for them the next day, called Brooks to confirm a job the next and to get instructions for that day, and called L to figure out when she was gonna be home. I worked for B until I had to leave to go to the other babysitting job. The secret to filling a person-void in your life is to fill it up with other people. And, of couse, with the real and valid satisifaction of doing a job for which you get paid quite a lot.
I woke up at 6:45 this morning after going to sleep at about one. Luckily C was sick, because I was definitely drifting in and out of The Little Mermaid, Ratatouille, and whatever else we watched. She was sweet, though, and we had fun at lunch. And of course, when her mom got home, I got housing. God bless the nanny profession. I really enjoy having a real house in which to spend my time. Maybe it's not so terrible that I live in a dorm and have limited ability to decorate it.
But oh how I miss it. I love how clean we are. I love that it's MY stuff. I like having my own closet and my own key. I like reliable internet I am legally allowed to access. I love the company--even though we spat occasionally, we also spend the wee hours of the morning dancing around to *NSYNC.
I am rethinking graduate school. I shouldn't get a Ph.D unless I really want to go into a profession that needs it. I want to be in publishing. (And I am now Co-Assistant Editor-in-Chief of the paper. Yeah, that's right. Say it fives times fast.) That's a MS/MA, or a BA, easily. And Portland is calling. But it is so very far away... I am looking forward to this trip. By the time January 6th rolls around, youth hostel housing should be a snap and a half.
EDIT: I have three solid As this semester (not sure what the fourth one is yet, but it pulled up my GPA to the point where I'm pretty sure everything's gonna be okay), got the Editor-in-Chief job for next year, have money, am taking a trip to the city I love reading about, definitely have housing as of three minutes ago, and currently have the gift of alone time.
Tomorrow I will be able to shower, shave, and pick up my Netflix. As much as it terrors me to write this, because things that go up always must go down, life is going pretty well at the moment.
Sunday, December 14, 2008
I don't write as much as I need to. I think writing's important. A generation of queer ladies have helped me realize myself via blogs, and while I don't think anyone reads this now, it's important for me to see from where I come. I've disassociated from my past--which probably is a good thing--but I tend to recall myself as silly. Naive. Inferior. I am usually the first two things but not the third. My new experiences do not make me superior to my old self. I am me because those things happened and I reacted in those ways.
With that said, I babysat until 4:15 a.m. last night (this morning?). I sat shivering in their driveway for at least five minutes, without a coat, wishing that my car would heat up sooner and melt the thin sheen of ice on my windshield. Everything in my car was cold. I made it home just past 5:00 a.m. When I walked into the building a drunk guy upset the cigarette trash can and then told me I was hot. I went upstairs and stared at myself in the bathroom and then climbed (literally) into bed. I couldn't sleep. My body was exhausted and my mind would not stop flitting from one thought to another. I fell asleep and dreamed about my ex. I woke up freezing. I dreamed about her again and woke up. I dreamed about crazy things. I woke up and peed. I dreamed that I went into an art store before my shift at the gym and they offered me a job and I bought a piece of art work separated into five pieces, with a big one on the left of bananas, and four smaller ones on the right. One was a weird drawing of an odd couple. I woke up, got ready, and went to the Publix. The line was too long to deposit my paychecks, so I went to work and came back. I ordered Chinese and it was delicious. I bought soy pudding at Publix and that was pretty excellent as well. I took Amanda to the train station and went to babysit. I played hide and seek with the girls, and I Spy. We colored on their chalkboard. S bit my clothes and put on my shirt and in general was crazy like she always is. They pulled down my shirt and wanted to see my breasts. I told them no ma'am. We watched The Backyardigans and iCarly and then they went to sleep. C was up coughing for a good part of the night and I was watching The DaVinci Code so it was a little scary to walk upstairs to check on her but I did it anyway. Their moms came home ten minutes into To Wong Foo, Thanks for Everything, Julie Newmar. We talked--it's always fun to talk with them. We share the same politics and parenting viewpoints and sexuality. I enjoy being around adults. We graduated to hugging today. I see this going good places.
R is not here and I miss her. My knees ache a little bit. I am worried about the pressure in the back of my head. My mom has been looking up camera details for forever and we discussed which one I should get. I am excited about Christmas and looking forward to going home to see my family. Couchsurfing is looking more and more a possibility since L hasn't gotten back to me yet. Ah well! I can always ask B or perhaps the lady who lives in Kennesaw. (...hopefully not!)
To Do List on the First Sunday Since the Beginning of the Semester I Have Had Zero Requirements to Put My Body in a Certain Place at a Certain Time for Money
~laundry
~clean room
~do dishes
~spin at 4:45
~write poems for Monday
~call to confirm couchsurfing
~giftswap! wrap dem gifts.
~try on spin shoes at REI
Monday will be my poem turn-in. Tuesday I find out if I got Assistant Editor-in-Chief, and possibly some grades, and I have to leave the dorm by 11 a.m. (But no check-out! God bless my nonconfrontational ex.) Wednesday I find out the rest of my grades (yikes) and hopefully have somewhere to stay. I only need a place for eight or nine days... surely I can figure out something.
the parking lot is looking a bit empty...
With that said, I babysat until 4:15 a.m. last night (this morning?). I sat shivering in their driveway for at least five minutes, without a coat, wishing that my car would heat up sooner and melt the thin sheen of ice on my windshield. Everything in my car was cold. I made it home just past 5:00 a.m. When I walked into the building a drunk guy upset the cigarette trash can and then told me I was hot. I went upstairs and stared at myself in the bathroom and then climbed (literally) into bed. I couldn't sleep. My body was exhausted and my mind would not stop flitting from one thought to another. I fell asleep and dreamed about my ex. I woke up freezing. I dreamed about her again and woke up. I dreamed about crazy things. I woke up and peed. I dreamed that I went into an art store before my shift at the gym and they offered me a job and I bought a piece of art work separated into five pieces, with a big one on the left of bananas, and four smaller ones on the right. One was a weird drawing of an odd couple. I woke up, got ready, and went to the Publix. The line was too long to deposit my paychecks, so I went to work and came back. I ordered Chinese and it was delicious. I bought soy pudding at Publix and that was pretty excellent as well. I took Amanda to the train station and went to babysit. I played hide and seek with the girls, and I Spy. We colored on their chalkboard. S bit my clothes and put on my shirt and in general was crazy like she always is. They pulled down my shirt and wanted to see my breasts. I told them no ma'am. We watched The Backyardigans and iCarly and then they went to sleep. C was up coughing for a good part of the night and I was watching The DaVinci Code so it was a little scary to walk upstairs to check on her but I did it anyway. Their moms came home ten minutes into To Wong Foo, Thanks for Everything, Julie Newmar. We talked--it's always fun to talk with them. We share the same politics and parenting viewpoints and sexuality. I enjoy being around adults. We graduated to hugging today. I see this going good places.
R is not here and I miss her. My knees ache a little bit. I am worried about the pressure in the back of my head. My mom has been looking up camera details for forever and we discussed which one I should get. I am excited about Christmas and looking forward to going home to see my family. Couchsurfing is looking more and more a possibility since L hasn't gotten back to me yet. Ah well! I can always ask B or perhaps the lady who lives in Kennesaw. (...hopefully not!)
To Do List on the First Sunday Since the Beginning of the Semester I Have Had Zero Requirements to Put My Body in a Certain Place at a Certain Time for Money
~laundry
~clean room
~do dishes
~spin at 4:45
~write poems for Monday
~call to confirm couchsurfing
~giftswap! wrap dem gifts.
~try on spin shoes at REI
Monday will be my poem turn-in. Tuesday I find out if I got Assistant Editor-in-Chief, and possibly some grades, and I have to leave the dorm by 11 a.m. (But no check-out! God bless my nonconfrontational ex.) Wednesday I find out the rest of my grades (yikes) and hopefully have somewhere to stay. I only need a place for eight or nine days... surely I can figure out something.
the parking lot is looking a bit empty...
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