Ah, but I was so much older then,
I’m younger than that now.
Sunday, February 27, 2011
Using ideas as my maps, “We’ll meet on edges, soon,” said I.
I'll be eighteen in a few months. I don't feel like I should be eighteen; in fact, I hardly feel like I should be seventeen. Most days I'm not sure whether I should be six years old or sixty. It's an odd thing. I wonder what it's like to feel your own age? I feel like I grew up strangely prematurely - I have a theory that the youngest child will do one of two things. Either you'll be babied and thus be a baby the rest of your life, or (as in my case), if you are close to your older siblings and don't want to be left behind, you simply grow up when they do. Sometimes I feel that I was cheated out of something on that score, that there was some precious stage of childhood that I skipped over completely. But then again, I have never been good at waiting patiently. I taught myself to read at the age of three because Mom was taking too long teaching Kate. I've always felt older than the other people my age. But even with that, I sometimes am overcome with a strange fear that makes me want to shrink, or hide in a corner, or sit and allow myself to be held for awhile. Fear of what, I couldn't say - decisions, people, the world, maybe. And then I feel like a child; only, I'm supposed to be past that by now, aren't I? Life should fit into three neatly defined stages: Childhood and Adulthood, with the Teen years in-between. But somehow, I seem to have skipped that in-between stage, and am now bouncing between one extreme and the other. I ought to land on one of them sometime...
Friday, February 25, 2011
This is what comes of reading True Grit and Roman history at the same time.
I had a really long, really intense dream last night that was incredibly cinematic. That was strange, because I generally don't have dreams like that - where you're watching yourself as if you're a character on the screen. Unfortunately I can't remember most of it by now, though when I woke up it was fresh enough to remember the very end. It was True Grit era, and I wasn't Mattie but I expect it was someone similar. I was with a small band of tough characters, looking for a band of even tougher characters. Our gangs met up unexpectedly and there was a large shoot-out. There was a lot of blood-loss on our side and it soon became evident that we wouldn't win - I ran through the dust and noise towards the forest, where I hoped I could hide out in the trees until it was all over. Apparently I wasn't incredibly brave. There was a young fellow from my group who was wounded but well enough to run, so I took him with me. I think we were the only ones left, because the bad guys all took to chasing us. We reached the edge of the forest and Young Fellow fell behind a tree, holding his bleeding arm in place. I stood behind a different tree and took as many shots at the approaching party as I could, but it wasn't doing any good. Either I was a lousy shot or else the bandits were bullet-proof. (One is easier to believe than the other.) Here, the view of my dream changed from being an observer to actually being there (as myself.). It felt incredibly real. Suddenly it occurred to me that these bandits wouldn't just kill us - they would mutilate us, and do all sorts of terrible things that I didn't even want to consider. There was no way out. Without saying a word, I turned to Young Fellow, who still lay by the tree whimpering in pain, and shot him in the head. It was an act of mercy. The bandits were within ten yards and hot tears blurred my vision. I pressed the gun against my own temple and exhaled - the breath was long and slow, and for a moment it was the only thing I could hear. Then, click. Nothing happened. I had run out of bullets.
Wednesday, February 23, 2011
I'll know my name.
Since I moved my furniture around, I've been able to see the moon rise every night and the sun rise every morning. My bed is now right under the large window that faces out to the street, and once I'm in bed I pull up the shades so that I can look up at the sky. It's odd how it's brighter outside than in once the lights are out, though I suppose it makes sense. The sky comes with lights included and turned on at any point in time. Isn't that strange? The stars and the moon are always up there shining, we just can't see them most of the time. But now at night, when I'm prone to think my gloomiest thoughts, I get to look out and see the moon hanging a few feet above the mountains out east. Last night it was low and yellow, and at first I thought it was just another streetlamp - but the night before that, it was exactly at the right height to shine into my window with its perfect white light. In contrast with the rest of the sky, it seemed almost as bright as the sun during the day. I had thought, initially, that I would get tired of being woken up by the sun shining in my eyes, but I haven't. In fact I've noticed that I've become a lot more ready to face the day once I've seen the sunrise. I guess it reminds me that there are still good things here.
I remember a few years ago, at a Thanksgiving service at church, we were going around saying one thing that we were thankful for. Everyone was saying things like family, health, God's grace. My Dad said "the moon". He's always been a night-owl and when he's at his office he often doesn't come home till four or five in the morning. He said that the moon was like his night-light, and it gave him something beautiful to look for when he was tired and worn out. I remember being surprised, even then, at the simplicity but also the grandeur of what he said. I don't often think of my father as a poet, and when I was young it was rare that I even thought of him as very insightful. That Thanksgiving was when I learned that I had always been wrong on that score.
I feel frustrated with myself today. I made a list this morning of things that I needed to do or at the very least start today, and I didn't do any of them. Not a single one. Although Dad and I did go to various auto shops to see about getting Peter a paint job. Maaco was more expensive but professional. 1-Day was a bit cheaper, and the fellow looked like Eli Wallach. I bet you can guess which has my vote. I've been reading True Grit all day and am almost finished. It's a fantastic book but I probably should have waited until a weekend to start it... once I start reading a book that I like, I can't do anything else until I finish it. I guess this is a compliment to Charles Portis but it gets me in a bit of a rut. Oh well. I'll drink lots of coffee and start on homework after dinner.
I need to be writing. I've had lots of people asking me lately what I plan on doing with myself, where I plan on going, what I plan on writing. I can't figure out how to do it. Life is getting to look more and more like a map of the world before sailors had figured out that there was land outside of Europe. Uncharted, that is. Only, in their case, the land was there whether they went and found it or not - there was nothing unsure about it. Lately I've been getting the precarious feeling that if I make one wrong decision, my whole future will crumble and I'll never be successful at anything. Now, of course, there's the whole matter of predestination; which would mean that, like the world of European sailors, my life has a course whether I know it or not. One could argue that there is nothing unsure about that. This is a belief I tend to believe in, but am not sure how to understand. I believe that God has set the general course of our lives and mapped out the important things - who will be saved and who won't, for example. The little things, however, I'm not sure about, and in the grand scheme of it all, something like which college I go to may very well count as a "little thing". It doesn't feel like it, but it may be. To some people, this is all incredibly simple. Amelia and I were discussing it, and she said something about how God's purpose for someone might be to not go to college. To me, that sounded a bit silly. You may not end up spending your life doing what you went to school for, true. But you go to school to learn to do things, and from that base you build your life. It somehow turned into a debate and got uncomfortable. She met my questions with, "What is man's purpose?" I said it was to glorify God. She said, "You can't get through life just to get through it. Your goal has to be to glorify God; so really, as long as you're bringing honor and praise to Him, it doesn't matter what else you're doing." I know that's all true, but I also know that you can't sit around waiting for God to literally tell you how you, personally, can best glorify Him. Sometimes, if you're not sure where you're supposed to be, you have to try and do something about it. In that sense, doing something just to do it. And then, I guess, keep at it and hope that God will use it to guide you to what you're supposed to do. That's the way it makes the most sense to me, anyway.
I suppose different people have different ideas of what's important; as much as I complain about it, school is important to me. There are so many things in life that I don't understand and I don't pretend to think that two or three years in a university will package that all up neatly. But I know that I can know more than I do - and that is challenging and exciting. I've got a good amount of things to learn and a good amount of things to say, I think. There are a million things I want to do and a million more places I want to see. I don't want to overlook an important step that might hold me back from getting there. I guess that's why I worry so much over where I should go to school. But then, going by my understanding of predestination... the purpose of my life we'll call a big thing, and a particular like school we'll say (for now) is a little thing. I suppose if God has the big thing figured out, the little thing will work towards it either way. So Biola or Wheaton or some place inbetween... it won't be a waste. That's what I have to believe, anyway. I don't think I could stay here in this dull county at a dull community college if I didn't believe it.
I remember a few years ago, at a Thanksgiving service at church, we were going around saying one thing that we were thankful for. Everyone was saying things like family, health, God's grace. My Dad said "the moon". He's always been a night-owl and when he's at his office he often doesn't come home till four or five in the morning. He said that the moon was like his night-light, and it gave him something beautiful to look for when he was tired and worn out. I remember being surprised, even then, at the simplicity but also the grandeur of what he said. I don't often think of my father as a poet, and when I was young it was rare that I even thought of him as very insightful. That Thanksgiving was when I learned that I had always been wrong on that score.
I feel frustrated with myself today. I made a list this morning of things that I needed to do or at the very least start today, and I didn't do any of them. Not a single one. Although Dad and I did go to various auto shops to see about getting Peter a paint job. Maaco was more expensive but professional. 1-Day was a bit cheaper, and the fellow looked like Eli Wallach. I bet you can guess which has my vote. I've been reading True Grit all day and am almost finished. It's a fantastic book but I probably should have waited until a weekend to start it... once I start reading a book that I like, I can't do anything else until I finish it. I guess this is a compliment to Charles Portis but it gets me in a bit of a rut. Oh well. I'll drink lots of coffee and start on homework after dinner.
I need to be writing. I've had lots of people asking me lately what I plan on doing with myself, where I plan on going, what I plan on writing. I can't figure out how to do it. Life is getting to look more and more like a map of the world before sailors had figured out that there was land outside of Europe. Uncharted, that is. Only, in their case, the land was there whether they went and found it or not - there was nothing unsure about it. Lately I've been getting the precarious feeling that if I make one wrong decision, my whole future will crumble and I'll never be successful at anything. Now, of course, there's the whole matter of predestination; which would mean that, like the world of European sailors, my life has a course whether I know it or not. One could argue that there is nothing unsure about that. This is a belief I tend to believe in, but am not sure how to understand. I believe that God has set the general course of our lives and mapped out the important things - who will be saved and who won't, for example. The little things, however, I'm not sure about, and in the grand scheme of it all, something like which college I go to may very well count as a "little thing". It doesn't feel like it, but it may be. To some people, this is all incredibly simple. Amelia and I were discussing it, and she said something about how God's purpose for someone might be to not go to college. To me, that sounded a bit silly. You may not end up spending your life doing what you went to school for, true. But you go to school to learn to do things, and from that base you build your life. It somehow turned into a debate and got uncomfortable. She met my questions with, "What is man's purpose?" I said it was to glorify God. She said, "You can't get through life just to get through it. Your goal has to be to glorify God; so really, as long as you're bringing honor and praise to Him, it doesn't matter what else you're doing." I know that's all true, but I also know that you can't sit around waiting for God to literally tell you how you, personally, can best glorify Him. Sometimes, if you're not sure where you're supposed to be, you have to try and do something about it. In that sense, doing something just to do it. And then, I guess, keep at it and hope that God will use it to guide you to what you're supposed to do. That's the way it makes the most sense to me, anyway.
I suppose different people have different ideas of what's important; as much as I complain about it, school is important to me. There are so many things in life that I don't understand and I don't pretend to think that two or three years in a university will package that all up neatly. But I know that I can know more than I do - and that is challenging and exciting. I've got a good amount of things to learn and a good amount of things to say, I think. There are a million things I want to do and a million more places I want to see. I don't want to overlook an important step that might hold me back from getting there. I guess that's why I worry so much over where I should go to school. But then, going by my understanding of predestination... the purpose of my life we'll call a big thing, and a particular like school we'll say (for now) is a little thing. I suppose if God has the big thing figured out, the little thing will work towards it either way. So Biola or Wheaton or some place inbetween... it won't be a waste. That's what I have to believe, anyway. I don't think I could stay here in this dull county at a dull community college if I didn't believe it.
So make your siren's call,
And sing all you want.
I will not hear what you have to say.
Cause I need freedom now,
And I need to know how
To live my life as it's meant to be.
And I will hold on hope,
And I won't let you choke
On the noose around your neck.
And I'll find strength in pain,
And I will change my ways:
I'll know my name as it's called again.
Saturday, February 19, 2011
The dog days are over
A lot has happened this week! Firstly, things are going pretty well. Aside from the fact that I'm home alone and it's cold and the weather outside is freakish... and I've been listening to Johnny Cash and "Hurt" pretty much nonstop for three days. Which is an incredibly depressing and addicting song. Anyway - aside from all that, things are good. I've been drinking coffee nonstop and just made another pot, and it's raining outside. AND I don't really have any homework that needs to be done right now. Which is refreshing. So here I sit, listening to Johnny Cash and Mumford & Sons, thinking of all the ways that I could spend the rest of this gloomy Saturday. Time always seems to move slower on days like this... this, too, is refreshing.
Firstly - oh yes. I'M GOING TO BE AN AUNT. My stinking sister (the married one) is 9 weeks pregnant and just thought to tell us about a week ago. I still don't understand all the blasted secrecy of that. But, now that I'm free to brag all that I want, I will. I'm so excited that we're finally having a Brubaby :) I'm kind of hoping it's a boy, so I can call him Bruboy. But I'll be happy to have a niece, too. Everyone knows that nieces are wonderful... though perhaps I'm a bit biased.
Anyway, the things that were driving me crazy and stressing me out last week are, mostly, taken care of. My teacher wasn't angry at me personally over the movie-stealing, my hair is growing out (still too short, but we're getting there), and things are fantastic with The Dining Room. I'm so relieved. We had our read-through at Groups yesterday, right after third-period class. We're all supposed to get out of the building as soon as possible so they can clean up, so I took The Five out to the van (Mom took my car home and I drove the van, because that was the only car we'd all fit in), and sat in the parking lot and read through the whole play in two hours. It was rough, obviously, because some of them hadn't read it before so it was all very new... but I'm seeing a lot of potential with this cast, and it's exciting. We also now have rehearsal dates SET, so no more bouncing around between people asking about 'what works'. Hah. I like having things decided; they're much more manageable when they're not floating above our heads somewhere.
OH! And we got our biology exam results back on Tuesday. Our teacher was pretttty mad - the class average was 65.5%. Ouch. Buuuut, guess who got a very high B? :) I don't like B's much, but in Biology, I consider this an accomplishment.
I also saw True Grit on Wednesday. I knew I liked it immediately after it finished, but over the past few days I've been realizing just how very much I like it. The script is really a piece of art - it's amazing to me that the actors can say things like, "It is I, Mattie Ross, your employer", and sound natural. Impressive writers, impressive actors, impressive film. I like those. Also, the score was fantastic. I've had "Leaning on the Everlasting Arms" stuck in my head all week; what a beautiful song. I get chills whenever I hear it.
Mmm... speaking of hymns, I have to play at church tomorrow. This makes me upset. I get so stressed out when I have to do it.
Anyway. I think I'm going to go practice... and then pack, because I won't really be here for the next two days. Annnnd... then I'm going to watch The Pianist. Or maybe make more pancakes. Dad bought me more bisquick (the other day when I wanted to make pancakes, I had just enough to make one. One. stinking. pancake.), so I plan on taking full advantage. Hope you're enjoying this strange-ish lovely weather.
Firstly - oh yes. I'M GOING TO BE AN AUNT. My stinking sister (the married one) is 9 weeks pregnant and just thought to tell us about a week ago. I still don't understand all the blasted secrecy of that. But, now that I'm free to brag all that I want, I will. I'm so excited that we're finally having a Brubaby :) I'm kind of hoping it's a boy, so I can call him Bruboy. But I'll be happy to have a niece, too. Everyone knows that nieces are wonderful... though perhaps I'm a bit biased.
Anyway, the things that were driving me crazy and stressing me out last week are, mostly, taken care of. My teacher wasn't angry at me personally over the movie-stealing, my hair is growing out (still too short, but we're getting there), and things are fantastic with The Dining Room. I'm so relieved. We had our read-through at Groups yesterday, right after third-period class. We're all supposed to get out of the building as soon as possible so they can clean up, so I took The Five out to the van (Mom took my car home and I drove the van, because that was the only car we'd all fit in), and sat in the parking lot and read through the whole play in two hours. It was rough, obviously, because some of them hadn't read it before so it was all very new... but I'm seeing a lot of potential with this cast, and it's exciting. We also now have rehearsal dates SET, so no more bouncing around between people asking about 'what works'. Hah. I like having things decided; they're much more manageable when they're not floating above our heads somewhere.
OH! And we got our biology exam results back on Tuesday. Our teacher was pretttty mad - the class average was 65.5%. Ouch. Buuuut, guess who got a very high B? :) I don't like B's much, but in Biology, I consider this an accomplishment.
I also saw True Grit on Wednesday. I knew I liked it immediately after it finished, but over the past few days I've been realizing just how very much I like it. The script is really a piece of art - it's amazing to me that the actors can say things like, "It is I, Mattie Ross, your employer", and sound natural. Impressive writers, impressive actors, impressive film. I like those. Also, the score was fantastic. I've had "Leaning on the Everlasting Arms" stuck in my head all week; what a beautiful song. I get chills whenever I hear it.
Mmm... speaking of hymns, I have to play at church tomorrow. This makes me upset. I get so stressed out when I have to do it.
Anyway. I think I'm going to go practice... and then pack, because I won't really be here for the next two days. Annnnd... then I'm going to watch The Pianist. Or maybe make more pancakes. Dad bought me more bisquick (the other day when I wanted to make pancakes, I had just enough to make one. One. stinking. pancake.), so I plan on taking full advantage. Hope you're enjoying this strange-ish lovely weather.
Friday, February 11, 2011
I thought some daisies might cheer you up.
Oh gracious. I'd pretty much had the most ridiculous day ever - at least, in a long while. You know those days where everything just piles up, and they don't even have to be big things (but when they are, it's far, far worse), and then there's the last straw and suddenly nothing in the entire world is right? I've been trying to remind myself that none of it will really matter in a few years, they're all things that will take care of themselves, blah blah blah... but then bad things kept happening, and I decided, approximately fifteen minutes ago, that I'm going to stop trying to cheer myself up and allow myself to vent for a while. And drink a pot of coffee. And then maybe everything will go away.
The first thing went wrong yesterday. Well before that, there was the biology exam - which I have no idea how I did on, but I'm definitely not feeling an A. Possibly a B. More probably a C, which is a little upsetting... but I don't know yet, so I won't be upset about that. Anyway. During the next class (History of Motion Pictures) my professor (who's 74! I would not have guessed that) came up to me and asked if I wouldn't mind closing up the room, turning off the projector and DVD player, and returning the DVD (Metropolis) to his office after class. He had to go to the hospital before class ended, for an MRI. He took me out of class and showed me his office, said that he was going to leave the door unlocked for me, and that I was to lock it up again once I had returned the movie. I said I'd take care of it. Well, he leaves, we continue the film, class ends, and I stay behind to take care of all the equipment. No trouble there. I then go around the building to his office, and find that the door is locked. Not knowing what else to do, I left a note under the door saying that it was locked and such, and that I was taking the movie home with me. I left him my email address and said to email me if he needed the film before Tuesday. So I went home. Amelia came over last night and we spent the evening at the harbor. When I got back at about 8 or 9, I checked my email, and had a note from my professor - Yes, he said, he needed the movie for his 5:00 class that night, and could I bring it over? Aghh. So not only did the poor man have to go get an MRI, but he also had to come up with an extra lesson plan on the fly, because a student hijacked his movie. I feel so incredibly guilty about that, but I really don't know what else I could have done. (Of course, that didn't stop Dad this morning from listing a few options about what I should have done. Thanks, Dad. That helps a lot.)
I went to get a hair trim this morning. Trim, hah. I hadn't thought it possible to go shorter than I did last time, but oh, it is. I know it'll grow and it'll probably look fine in two weeks, but still, that's two weeks. Until then, I'm stuck. I don't intend on complaining about it around people, because then they feel obligated to say that it looks fine, when we both know that it doesn't. I hate that. It really does look awful. And it was super expensive, because the woman styled it - I even told her not to bother styling it, because I knew that would knock the price up... but she did anyway, and then charged me an extra 11 bucks for it. I didn't have enough cash on me, so Mom covered it - which made me feel worse, not to mention eight years old.
And then there's The Dining Room. I've been trying to schedule a read-through for weeks - who knew that getting a day to work for 6 people would be SO DIFFICULT? I've been bouncing emails and calls and texts between the five of them, spamming them all first with "Does this work?", then "This seems to work, let's plan on that..." and finally, "Turns out that this day doesn't work... how about this one?" With the result that nothing has been done. I've run out of days that would work this week, so now we're planning on next week... but I'm just so afraid that it's going to keep happening this way. It's stressing me out. I feel so powerless - I so want to get this thing off the ground, but I feel like everything is working against me.
I'm so tired of feeling guilty and stressed and worried. I wish somebody would just step in and put everything neatly in its' place for me. God knows I've been trying. But somehow I can't fix things, and I'm so worn out. I hate feeling like this.
The first thing went wrong yesterday. Well before that, there was the biology exam - which I have no idea how I did on, but I'm definitely not feeling an A. Possibly a B. More probably a C, which is a little upsetting... but I don't know yet, so I won't be upset about that. Anyway. During the next class (History of Motion Pictures) my professor (who's 74! I would not have guessed that) came up to me and asked if I wouldn't mind closing up the room, turning off the projector and DVD player, and returning the DVD (Metropolis) to his office after class. He had to go to the hospital before class ended, for an MRI. He took me out of class and showed me his office, said that he was going to leave the door unlocked for me, and that I was to lock it up again once I had returned the movie. I said I'd take care of it. Well, he leaves, we continue the film, class ends, and I stay behind to take care of all the equipment. No trouble there. I then go around the building to his office, and find that the door is locked. Not knowing what else to do, I left a note under the door saying that it was locked and such, and that I was taking the movie home with me. I left him my email address and said to email me if he needed the film before Tuesday. So I went home. Amelia came over last night and we spent the evening at the harbor. When I got back at about 8 or 9, I checked my email, and had a note from my professor - Yes, he said, he needed the movie for his 5:00 class that night, and could I bring it over? Aghh. So not only did the poor man have to go get an MRI, but he also had to come up with an extra lesson plan on the fly, because a student hijacked his movie. I feel so incredibly guilty about that, but I really don't know what else I could have done. (Of course, that didn't stop Dad this morning from listing a few options about what I should have done. Thanks, Dad. That helps a lot.)
I went to get a hair trim this morning. Trim, hah. I hadn't thought it possible to go shorter than I did last time, but oh, it is. I know it'll grow and it'll probably look fine in two weeks, but still, that's two weeks. Until then, I'm stuck. I don't intend on complaining about it around people, because then they feel obligated to say that it looks fine, when we both know that it doesn't. I hate that. It really does look awful. And it was super expensive, because the woman styled it - I even told her not to bother styling it, because I knew that would knock the price up... but she did anyway, and then charged me an extra 11 bucks for it. I didn't have enough cash on me, so Mom covered it - which made me feel worse, not to mention eight years old.
And then there's The Dining Room. I've been trying to schedule a read-through for weeks - who knew that getting a day to work for 6 people would be SO DIFFICULT? I've been bouncing emails and calls and texts between the five of them, spamming them all first with "Does this work?", then "This seems to work, let's plan on that..." and finally, "Turns out that this day doesn't work... how about this one?" With the result that nothing has been done. I've run out of days that would work this week, so now we're planning on next week... but I'm just so afraid that it's going to keep happening this way. It's stressing me out. I feel so powerless - I so want to get this thing off the ground, but I feel like everything is working against me.
I'm so tired of feeling guilty and stressed and worried. I wish somebody would just step in and put everything neatly in its' place for me. God knows I've been trying. But somehow I can't fix things, and I'm so worn out. I hate feeling like this.
Wednesday, February 9, 2011
I need pancakes.
Seriously, pancakes are all I've been able to think about these past few hours. The most ridiculously grumpy feeling settled in on me this afternoon, too, which makes me feel too frustrated to cook anything. I don't know why everything is bothering me so much today... just one of those days, I guess. Everything that everyone does is suddenly making me cringe with annoyance. Well, that, and I'm incredibly stressed about school. I have my first biology exam tomorrow, and I'm pretty much resigned to the fact that I'm going to fail. Well, maybe not fail... but realistically, there's no way I'm getting an A. Which is upsetting. I just don't get this stuff... and I think that, after you take it in high-school, it should be totally optional. College Algebra, Biology.... seriously. Why do writers need these things? We don't! The silly unimaginative people just need to lord their brains over us for a while to try and make us feel inferior. But it won't work! I won't allow it! I'll be traveling the world and writing fantastic stories while they're staring down the sights of their microscopes. Someday, there will be justice.
That's it. I need to go bake something.
That's it. I need to go bake something.
"All the animals have gone mad!"
I got home last night after being gone all day, and was changing in my room. My cat walked up to me and, expecting her to rub up against my leg (as cats often do), I didn't move. But did she rub against my leg? No. She bit my calf.
Sunday, February 6, 2011
Take off the shoes.
I was thinking recently about that story I wrote last year (last year. weird.), and while I know it needs lots of work, I still think it has potential. There are a few parts that I really think I did well, and that's a nice feeling. There's one scene especially, exactly halfway through, where Alice is all torn up inside over the conflict of her brother's death and her own lifestyle and guilt and all that. She's just come from a confrontation/break-down with Frank, her brother's best friend, when this scene takes place.
It was late that night, sometime between midnight and sunrise, and I was sitting out on the fire escape. For the first time in a half-year, the night air inspired me to wear a sweater over my nightgown. The streets were still quiet, and my brain felt numb.
“I’m afraid they’ll find me out,” I said vaguely. “If something happens – if I can’t get away... Sam, I’ll go crazy.”
“I know,” he said. “I felt the same way right about your age.”
I stared out over the darkness that covered the alley, thinking about all the things that could and might go wrong – all the things that could stop my well-laid plans. “Does it go away?”
Sam smiled sadly. “No.”
“Do you think Frank knows? I feel like, if he did... well, wouldn’t he say something?”
“Frank’s a good guy – the law doesn’t always agree with him, but he’d never rat on a friend, or let them down. If he ever got me into trouble, he was always there to get me out of it.”
I studied Sam’s face. “Always?”
Sam’s eyes met mine and I knew he understood what I meant. He looked away from me and didn’t answer.
“I never wanted to grow up, Sam. I still don’t. I don’t even think I can – especially without you. You were the only one who ever really understood.”
“I know,” he said. “I’m sorry it was all like this...”
“Don’t say that, Sam, it wasn’t your fault.”
I felt a chill run down my spine when he didn’t answer.
“It wasn’t, was it?”
“You’ll be fine, Al, you always were. You can’t be afraid of moving on – everybody’s got to. And of course growing up is hard... I mean, we’re not allowed to walk anymore, we’ve got to run... and the shoes don’t fit. We get tired.”
I looked up into his face and saw that he was staring straight out across the rooftops. I scooted closer and held his arm, leaning my head on his shoulder.
“So what do I do?”
Sam smiled. “Take off the shoes.”
I woke then, and found that I had fallen asleep on the fire escape. I didn’t remember my dream until days later, so I didn’t understand why I woke with tears on my cheeks.
Tuesday, February 1, 2011
The one-armed bandit knows.
Well, today wasn't half-bad, really. I woke up feeling a little better... I mean waking up at 6:45 is always cause for a bad mood but in way of my fever/cold/flu/thing, I felt better. Which is good. Except that today on the way to my car I was seized by this vicious coughing attack and it still won't go away, and now my throat hurts. Also, for some reason, my arm feels like someone with fists the consistency of cement was pummeling my arm for some time. And as far as I know, that didn't happen. Oh well. Can't win them all.
It's February. I've almost had this account for a year - isn't that weird? I was thinking about it, and I don't seem to connect my beginning here to a month so near the beginning of the year. That was also the time that I painted my room. It seems like so much longer ago than that... and then at the same time, like a few months ago. How does that happen? So many people have described that phenomenon that I think it must be true, and time is just playing a horrible trick on all of us. February 2010 probably was only a few months ago. It was also probably three years ago. In fact, in some dimension, it's probably February 2010 right now. It occurred to me, some weeks ago when we were driving to Truckee, that I have an acute respect for Time. I was staring out the window, thinking of how many years we'd driven that exact same road, and all the stages of our lives that we'd driven it through. A white minivan like ours passed us on the opposite side of the road, and I found myself thinking that it was us on our way back. It didn't surprise me a bit.
Let's see... news. Something's happening to the gum on the lower left corner of my mouth - I don't think it's healing right. Some hard thing is forming and giving my tongue a blister on the side. That can't be good. In other news, I just yesterday got my biology textbook, and we have a test in a week. Lots of studying. Death. All that good stuff. I'm getting back to drinking coffee after a long stint on black tea, and I think my dad's coffee-making skills have suffered in my absence. I have also become obsessed with Tom Waits. Not his rowdy, cookie-monster-impression songs. His voice is so rough that his ballads are incredibly honest sounding... and that makes them beautiful. And incredibly depressing. (If I Have to Go, c'mon.) I'm learning worship songs so that I can lead at Beth's church on Friday. I'm driving myself all the way there after school - longest I've ever driven. I'm mostly looking forward to it - the drive, really. Not so much looking forward to the GPS that Mom insists that I bring. I swear those things are alive.
OH! Big news from London. The Dining Room is finally on. I have a cast, and a read-through is in the works of being scheduled. *tremendous sigh of relief* Also... shoot. That means I have to start thinking about a set. And lights. And sound. Nah, not sound... we'll be ghetto and count on projection. (Side note, the word ghetto is really without definition, I realized. Pendleton was talking about it in Western Civ. and he said he was asking a girl what happened to myspace. She said that everyone left because it went ghetto. He said that 'ghetto' brings to mind Jewish holding towns in Eastern Europe. I'm glad that's not what really happened to myspace....)
Today I went into my History of Motion Films class about ten minutes early, and witnessed a very charmingly flirtatious beginning of a relationship. (Or I assume it will be a relationship, anyway... two hours after class I saw them sitting together laughing outside the library. We'll see.) It hit me - I've seen this in lots of classes. In my first semester there I'd see it and assume that they were already friends or whatever creepy title they go by, on account of how chummy they were being after only a few class periods. Then I realized that no; no, that's just really how quickly people move. It's very interesting, watching it in its very first stage - it's like watching a movie, only of course, it's not... which makes me feel a little creepy for being there. Oh well. For whatever reason, the people that I end up sitting next to in classes and developing something like a friendship with, either male or female, end up dropping the class. Which is odd... because I don't think of the drop-out stereotype as the kind of person I'm drawn to. Maybe the drop-outs are drawn to me. Well, if you're going to have a "type" that you don't want, I suppose the drop-outs are the ones to have... they don't stick around long, anyway.
I'm listening to Tom Waits and my mother just walked in, guffawed, and said, "Goodness." Poor Tom. Don't take it personally... she doesn't like Nico, either.
Ohhh too much biology homework. I wish the world of college would listen to us when we say that we want to be English majors.... then I wouldn't have to deal with things like college algebra or biology. At least I don't have to be taking them in the same semester. Eeeks. A girl in my biology lecture class last week asked me what my major was - I told her English. She looked at me like I was crazy and asked what I was doing there. I told her I wish I knew.
Time for another cup of coffee.
It's February. I've almost had this account for a year - isn't that weird? I was thinking about it, and I don't seem to connect my beginning here to a month so near the beginning of the year. That was also the time that I painted my room. It seems like so much longer ago than that... and then at the same time, like a few months ago. How does that happen? So many people have described that phenomenon that I think it must be true, and time is just playing a horrible trick on all of us. February 2010 probably was only a few months ago. It was also probably three years ago. In fact, in some dimension, it's probably February 2010 right now. It occurred to me, some weeks ago when we were driving to Truckee, that I have an acute respect for Time. I was staring out the window, thinking of how many years we'd driven that exact same road, and all the stages of our lives that we'd driven it through. A white minivan like ours passed us on the opposite side of the road, and I found myself thinking that it was us on our way back. It didn't surprise me a bit.
Let's see... news. Something's happening to the gum on the lower left corner of my mouth - I don't think it's healing right. Some hard thing is forming and giving my tongue a blister on the side. That can't be good. In other news, I just yesterday got my biology textbook, and we have a test in a week. Lots of studying. Death. All that good stuff. I'm getting back to drinking coffee after a long stint on black tea, and I think my dad's coffee-making skills have suffered in my absence. I have also become obsessed with Tom Waits. Not his rowdy, cookie-monster-impression songs. His voice is so rough that his ballads are incredibly honest sounding... and that makes them beautiful. And incredibly depressing. (If I Have to Go, c'mon.) I'm learning worship songs so that I can lead at Beth's church on Friday. I'm driving myself all the way there after school - longest I've ever driven. I'm mostly looking forward to it - the drive, really. Not so much looking forward to the GPS that Mom insists that I bring. I swear those things are alive.
OH! Big news from London. The Dining Room is finally on. I have a cast, and a read-through is in the works of being scheduled. *tremendous sigh of relief* Also... shoot. That means I have to start thinking about a set. And lights. And sound. Nah, not sound... we'll be ghetto and count on projection. (Side note, the word ghetto is really without definition, I realized. Pendleton was talking about it in Western Civ. and he said he was asking a girl what happened to myspace. She said that everyone left because it went ghetto. He said that 'ghetto' brings to mind Jewish holding towns in Eastern Europe. I'm glad that's not what really happened to myspace....)
Today I went into my History of Motion Films class about ten minutes early, and witnessed a very charmingly flirtatious beginning of a relationship. (Or I assume it will be a relationship, anyway... two hours after class I saw them sitting together laughing outside the library. We'll see.) It hit me - I've seen this in lots of classes. In my first semester there I'd see it and assume that they were already friends or whatever creepy title they go by, on account of how chummy they were being after only a few class periods. Then I realized that no; no, that's just really how quickly people move. It's very interesting, watching it in its very first stage - it's like watching a movie, only of course, it's not... which makes me feel a little creepy for being there. Oh well. For whatever reason, the people that I end up sitting next to in classes and developing something like a friendship with, either male or female, end up dropping the class. Which is odd... because I don't think of the drop-out stereotype as the kind of person I'm drawn to. Maybe the drop-outs are drawn to me. Well, if you're going to have a "type" that you don't want, I suppose the drop-outs are the ones to have... they don't stick around long, anyway.
I'm listening to Tom Waits and my mother just walked in, guffawed, and said, "Goodness." Poor Tom. Don't take it personally... she doesn't like Nico, either.
Ohhh too much biology homework. I wish the world of college would listen to us when we say that we want to be English majors.... then I wouldn't have to deal with things like college algebra or biology. At least I don't have to be taking them in the same semester. Eeeks. A girl in my biology lecture class last week asked me what my major was - I told her English. She looked at me like I was crazy and asked what I was doing there. I told her I wish I knew.
Time for another cup of coffee.
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