I feel horribly guilty when I think about being gone for two months. The kind of guilty that makes you feel physically sick. One of the things that has always bothered me about myself is the fact that I run from confrontation - not even that, just unpleasant situations in general. But that's always been a metaphorical sort of running away. There are so many loose ends in my life right now - so many things on a ledge - and not only am I emotionally distancing myself, but I'm leaving the freaking COUNTRY. I keep trying to convince myself that that's what I need - distance, in both senses of the word. But it's not working. I hate that I so often leave things (people, mainly) hanging. But fixing everything before I go is not even close to being possible.
I wish I was better at being a good person.
Saturday, February 25, 2012
Thursday, February 23, 2012
For the record...
Jessica Chastain is one to watch.
And the soundtrack for "Up in the Air" is one to listen to.
And Santa Barbara is the place to go.
And 10 DAYS HOLYCRAPWHAT!!!!!!
And the soundtrack for "Up in the Air" is one to listen to.
And Santa Barbara is the place to go.
And 10 DAYS HOLYCRAPWHAT!!!!!!
Wednesday, February 22, 2012
Every day can't be your best day.
Before you start thinking about how emotional this post is going to be - don't. This post's title comes from a song that, for some mysterious reason of its own, has become my anthem of the semester. Jeremy made a CD for me awhile ago and he didn't think I'd like this song - but it cracks me up. Seriously, every time it comes on I smile - it's almost humorous. I would play it on the way to work every morning for a while, but it's been a week or so since I heard it last. Until this evening, that is.
Backing up, today actually was a pretty crappy day. I had to drive out to the edge of the county (county, not country - for those of you who add letters to words like I do) because the kids were getting haircuts and apparently no place in THEIR city is good enough. So I took care of them, two at a time, while all three had their little blonde hairs trimmed. Unfortunately that meant taking them into the next-door bakery, as per their mother's suggestion. I forget sometimes how very humble my childhood was; I STILL walk through any shop or store that I go to and look at things without even thinking of buying them. It frustrates Amelia to no end to go shopping with me - while she takes a stack to the fitting rooms, I pick something up, say with sincerity, "Ah, this is so nice!" and promptly put it back. That's just how I was raised - it's not like we were deprived of anything we needed, or anything... we just didn't splurge. Ever. Anyway - all that to say that not all families are like mine was. It's just kind of hard for me to not only watch, but be a part of, such splurging. I don't think it's healthy for kids to be trained to walk into a store and order whatever they want - but y'know. Who am I to judge. It's not like I'm a responsible adult who was raised to pay for my own things.
cough.
ANYWAY, so there was the salon and the bakery... and then I drove the kids back to their house, and kept them busy until two of their friends could come over. I had thought, when their mom told me of the afternoon plans, that little friends would keep the kids self-entertained. I don't remember EVER having a parent (much less a babysitter) looming around me and my friends while we were playing. Kids can play alone, right? False! Having friends over only means that the nanny gets two MORE little ones to keep out of trouble. So Parents, be aware - don't send your kid over to your neighbor's just because there is a babysitter there. It's poor sportsmanship.
So long story short, I watched five kids today - dealt with all of the hunger and thirst, the smashed toes, the tears, the crazed hyper screaming, the arguing over what TV show to watch during the last half hour... sigh. Okay, I'm sorry - it's not all that bad, really. I'm still very thankful to have a job. And sometimes the kids are alarmingly sweet - the 3 year old, especially, seems to really love me. It's just that some days it's harder to deal with all of this than others. Today was just... well, not my best day.
But then, every day can't be, can it? ;)
After work, I found myself going to the harbor again - the sunset was, for the second day in a row, completely BREATHTAKING, OHMYGOSHWHYISTHEWORLDSOBEAUTIFUL?!. Except, haha, sometimes the world is really stupid. Men. GAH. Until tonight I hadn't felt bothered or afraid or stalked or anything during my walks - always just a peaceful aloneness. Tonight, however, was different. First of all, on the bridge there was a photographer dude taking pictures of the sky. We were walking opposite ways, until I walked past him, and then he stopped. He watched me for a while and then started walking after me. I walked a bit faster. He walked a bit faster. I sped up, he sped up. We continued in this fashion until I came across a small family who was enjoying the view, and I tagged along a few yards away from them. The photographer stopped following me and walked the other way again. So that was one. Then - oh, I didn't write about this. Last night, I started feeling a little paranoid because there was this older guy walking behind me, and for some reason I had it in my mind that it might be the guy who was stalking me last year at school. (For real - I had a legitimate stalker. Police were involved. Not sure if I ever wrote about that.) I was juuuuust starting to get worried, when I saw a security guard riding up on a bicycle. Salvation!, I thought. I felt safe. I looked ahead at the fellow on the bike and said, "Hello!" He gave me a quick look-over and said, "Hello, beautiful." This usually wouldn't have bothered me so much, except that I was already feeling afraid of men and then to have THAT from a SECURITY GUARD was just too much. I shot him the dirtiest look I could muster and continued on my way. So that was last night - then this evening, I came across the same be-bicycled guard, after the incident with the photographer. I told him hello, and he smiled smugly and told me hello - and that was that. But now I hate men. I don't hate them for objectifying women or even for just saying stupid things nearly as much as I hate them for ruining my walks.
Jerks.
So by the time I pulled into my driveway, I was feeling incredibly tired and grouchy at the world. I planned to go into the house, say, "Hey dude" to Kate (wherever she happened to be), and go hide in my room for awhile where no one could bother me.
Ha.
I opened the door, put my keys down, and said, "Hey dude." Suddenly...
Kate hit a key on the computer and "The Best Day" blared throughout the house. She started into her drunk lizard dance, and what could I do but join her? And I'm sorry for the language, but sometimes you just need to shout along with the lyrics here. So we shouted and danced about like heathens round a campfire for a good long time. I don't know how she does it... but sometimes that sister of mine is just magic.
Also, I wrote a short story last night. It's a bit rough - I need to find a good way to end it, too - but I think it has some genuinely good things about it. It just felt so good to WRITE.
So alllllll of this to say... the world is weird and hard and scary. But it can be so unexpectedly glorious sometimes. Thank you for teaching us, God.
Backing up, today actually was a pretty crappy day. I had to drive out to the edge of the county (county, not country - for those of you who add letters to words like I do) because the kids were getting haircuts and apparently no place in THEIR city is good enough. So I took care of them, two at a time, while all three had their little blonde hairs trimmed. Unfortunately that meant taking them into the next-door bakery, as per their mother's suggestion. I forget sometimes how very humble my childhood was; I STILL walk through any shop or store that I go to and look at things without even thinking of buying them. It frustrates Amelia to no end to go shopping with me - while she takes a stack to the fitting rooms, I pick something up, say with sincerity, "Ah, this is so nice!" and promptly put it back. That's just how I was raised - it's not like we were deprived of anything we needed, or anything... we just didn't splurge. Ever. Anyway - all that to say that not all families are like mine was. It's just kind of hard for me to not only watch, but be a part of, such splurging. I don't think it's healthy for kids to be trained to walk into a store and order whatever they want - but y'know. Who am I to judge. It's not like I'm a responsible adult who was raised to pay for my own things.
cough.
ANYWAY, so there was the salon and the bakery... and then I drove the kids back to their house, and kept them busy until two of their friends could come over. I had thought, when their mom told me of the afternoon plans, that little friends would keep the kids self-entertained. I don't remember EVER having a parent (much less a babysitter) looming around me and my friends while we were playing. Kids can play alone, right? False! Having friends over only means that the nanny gets two MORE little ones to keep out of trouble. So Parents, be aware - don't send your kid over to your neighbor's just because there is a babysitter there. It's poor sportsmanship.
So long story short, I watched five kids today - dealt with all of the hunger and thirst, the smashed toes, the tears, the crazed hyper screaming, the arguing over what TV show to watch during the last half hour... sigh. Okay, I'm sorry - it's not all that bad, really. I'm still very thankful to have a job. And sometimes the kids are alarmingly sweet - the 3 year old, especially, seems to really love me. It's just that some days it's harder to deal with all of this than others. Today was just... well, not my best day.
But then, every day can't be, can it? ;)
After work, I found myself going to the harbor again - the sunset was, for the second day in a row, completely BREATHTAKING, OHMYGOSHWHYISTHEWORLDSOBEAUTIFUL?!. Except, haha, sometimes the world is really stupid. Men. GAH. Until tonight I hadn't felt bothered or afraid or stalked or anything during my walks - always just a peaceful aloneness. Tonight, however, was different. First of all, on the bridge there was a photographer dude taking pictures of the sky. We were walking opposite ways, until I walked past him, and then he stopped. He watched me for a while and then started walking after me. I walked a bit faster. He walked a bit faster. I sped up, he sped up. We continued in this fashion until I came across a small family who was enjoying the view, and I tagged along a few yards away from them. The photographer stopped following me and walked the other way again. So that was one. Then - oh, I didn't write about this. Last night, I started feeling a little paranoid because there was this older guy walking behind me, and for some reason I had it in my mind that it might be the guy who was stalking me last year at school. (For real - I had a legitimate stalker. Police were involved. Not sure if I ever wrote about that.) I was juuuuust starting to get worried, when I saw a security guard riding up on a bicycle. Salvation!, I thought. I felt safe. I looked ahead at the fellow on the bike and said, "Hello!" He gave me a quick look-over and said, "Hello, beautiful." This usually wouldn't have bothered me so much, except that I was already feeling afraid of men and then to have THAT from a SECURITY GUARD was just too much. I shot him the dirtiest look I could muster and continued on my way. So that was last night - then this evening, I came across the same be-bicycled guard, after the incident with the photographer. I told him hello, and he smiled smugly and told me hello - and that was that. But now I hate men. I don't hate them for objectifying women or even for just saying stupid things nearly as much as I hate them for ruining my walks.
Jerks.
So by the time I pulled into my driveway, I was feeling incredibly tired and grouchy at the world. I planned to go into the house, say, "Hey dude" to Kate (wherever she happened to be), and go hide in my room for awhile where no one could bother me.
Ha.
I opened the door, put my keys down, and said, "Hey dude." Suddenly...
Kate hit a key on the computer and "The Best Day" blared throughout the house. She started into her drunk lizard dance, and what could I do but join her? And I'm sorry for the language, but sometimes you just need to shout along with the lyrics here. So we shouted and danced about like heathens round a campfire for a good long time. I don't know how she does it... but sometimes that sister of mine is just magic.
Also, I wrote a short story last night. It's a bit rough - I need to find a good way to end it, too - but I think it has some genuinely good things about it. It just felt so good to WRITE.
So alllllll of this to say... the world is weird and hard and scary. But it can be so unexpectedly glorious sometimes. Thank you for teaching us, God.
Tuesday, February 21, 2012
Captain America speaking.
Life is so strange. People are strange - I'M strange. I went over to Amelia's before work today and she asked me, with the sad and sympathetic Amelia-face that I love, how I was doing. I started unloading all of the things that I'm frustrated with and upset about - we take turns doing that during our coffee get-togethers. Today was my day, apparently - and for whatever reason, I started laughing. And I mean hysterically. It's so weird how that happens; it's only happens rarely to me, and I'm never quite sure what to make of it. On the last day of school last semester, for example, I had gone out to lunch with Amelia and Jeremy and it had struck me, in between bites of my taco, that I wouldn't be coming back to school to see them every day. In rapid succession, I realized that I had no idea what this year would be like, and how afraid I was of that. I didn't feel the full effect of it until that night, when I was cleaning the kitchen after dinner and spilled an entire cup of coffee all across the floor. I started laughing, and then I started crying. And I sat down on the floor and laughed and cried and didn't breathe while Kate stood there watching me, not sure what to do.
I confuse myself. In so many more ways than this.
Anyway - today was pretty good, after the weird incident with Amelia. I worked from 1 to 5, and I only had the youngest two today, so it was pretty easy. I took them on a walk, and calmed the 3 year-old down after he threw a tantrum because his 7 year-old sister always wins when she yells "RACE!" I told him that he would get big one day, and then he would start winning races, too. He stopped crying for a moment and said, "I'm gonna get big?" I told him yes. He smiled a horrifyingly toothy smile (through his still-drying tears), and said, "And Anna won't grow at ALL!" Well, it's a work in progress, anyway...
Oh, and during our daily game where he forgets my name - at least I hope it's a game... - he called me "Captain America". I asked him if that's who I am, and he said, "Yes. My babysitter is Captain America!" Which made me feel pretty cool. Pretty sure this should put me in a babysitter hall of fame or something.
Man. I'm leaving in 12 days. OHMYGAAAAAH. I have no idea what I should be doing to get ready. I started a list of things to pack last night... I think that's a good start...?
I need to go shopping. But I hate shopping. I hate spending money and trying things on and feeling bad about myself when they don't fit. Which is STUPID, because I know weight isn't really a problem. Clothes just aren't made for long people. Stupid stores.
In other news, I've been going to the harbor every evening after work since Valentines Day. It's not like I plan it, or that it's part of my routine - because I don't really have one of those. It starts when I leave the family's house - they live on the very top of a hill, and I can see the whole city, all the way to the ocean and the islands. And I watch the sky all during the drive back home, and I think about how glorious it is to be able to see these things. And then I'm parking in the lot, and walking around the marina and shivering because I never think to bring a jacket. And it clears my head so nicely. As much as any walk can, anyway.
Oh, and if I'm really lucky, like I was tonight, I'll come home and find that Mom has just gone out to get us all Chinese food. Score.
Things really aren't as bad as I make them out to be. I've been trying to get better at not making myself out to be a victim. Seriously. Get over it, Laura. It's just hard, because I'm really not mad at any one person or any one thing; I'm just frustrated with myself, which sucks. It's so much easier to throw blame around at people outside. Anyway... yeah. I'm going to go watch a video on England with Dad. And drink lots of water. Darned Chinese food.
OH! FORTUNE COOKIES! I forgot. Bye.
I confuse myself. In so many more ways than this.
Anyway - today was pretty good, after the weird incident with Amelia. I worked from 1 to 5, and I only had the youngest two today, so it was pretty easy. I took them on a walk, and calmed the 3 year-old down after he threw a tantrum because his 7 year-old sister always wins when she yells "RACE!" I told him that he would get big one day, and then he would start winning races, too. He stopped crying for a moment and said, "I'm gonna get big?" I told him yes. He smiled a horrifyingly toothy smile (through his still-drying tears), and said, "And Anna won't grow at ALL!" Well, it's a work in progress, anyway...
Oh, and during our daily game where he forgets my name - at least I hope it's a game... - he called me "Captain America". I asked him if that's who I am, and he said, "Yes. My babysitter is Captain America!" Which made me feel pretty cool. Pretty sure this should put me in a babysitter hall of fame or something.
Man. I'm leaving in 12 days. OHMYGAAAAAH. I have no idea what I should be doing to get ready. I started a list of things to pack last night... I think that's a good start...?
I need to go shopping. But I hate shopping. I hate spending money and trying things on and feeling bad about myself when they don't fit. Which is STUPID, because I know weight isn't really a problem. Clothes just aren't made for long people. Stupid stores.
In other news, I've been going to the harbor every evening after work since Valentines Day. It's not like I plan it, or that it's part of my routine - because I don't really have one of those. It starts when I leave the family's house - they live on the very top of a hill, and I can see the whole city, all the way to the ocean and the islands. And I watch the sky all during the drive back home, and I think about how glorious it is to be able to see these things. And then I'm parking in the lot, and walking around the marina and shivering because I never think to bring a jacket. And it clears my head so nicely. As much as any walk can, anyway.
Oh, and if I'm really lucky, like I was tonight, I'll come home and find that Mom has just gone out to get us all Chinese food. Score.
Things really aren't as bad as I make them out to be. I've been trying to get better at not making myself out to be a victim. Seriously. Get over it, Laura. It's just hard, because I'm really not mad at any one person or any one thing; I'm just frustrated with myself, which sucks. It's so much easier to throw blame around at people outside. Anyway... yeah. I'm going to go watch a video on England with Dad. And drink lots of water. Darned Chinese food.
OH! FORTUNE COOKIES! I forgot. Bye.
Friday, February 17, 2012
And she says, "What for? I'm yours and that's it, whatever."
Wow. Today was another one of those 3-in-1 days. As in, long. A lot happened! Well... sort of. I taught this morning, and that went well - I always love teaching homeschoolers. It's so fun being the cool/weird (mostly weird - I let Amelia be the mothering one) "older" girl. Anyway, I left the campus a bit before noon, came home and ate lunch and changed, and then headed off to nanny-duty. Halfway to their house, I was stopped at a light and checked my phone (yes, I know.. illegal. Pfff, legality.). The mom had texted me a few minutes before I'd left my house, saying that they wouldn't be home till nearly 2, and could I come then? It's a 20 minute drive and I was halfway there - and it was only 12:45. I contemplated turning around, and then I contemplated just camping out in their driveway and reading. Then I drove over a bridge and saw the cemetery to my left, so I turned at the next light and found myself walking through the pristine lawns on my way to the mausoleum. There were 3 or 4 funerals there today - none taking place while I was there, but they all had fresh mounds of dirt and signs with the family names nearby. There weren't a ton of people there, but during the hour I stayed I saw a few cars come and go with visitors in suits. In the handful of times I've visited Papa's grave, I've never seen people aside from gardeners there. I think maybe that's why today's visit didn't make me as sad as most cemetery visits do - it took me out of my head. Other people lose loved ones, too. Other people cry. Other people drive away afterward and go on with their lives.
The last time I was there, I think, was on Papa's birthday, back in October. I met Jon and Kate there after class and we sat together for a long while on the pew nearest the wall where he is. Apparently he told Mom that he wanted us all to come and visit his grave - which really tore me up for a while, because I hate cemeteries. They've always freaked me out. But I've been trying to force myself to go, so that it'll get easier; I owe that to Papa at least. The mausoleum, especially, always gave me the creeps, but I AM getting better at it. Although I'll admit that when I walked through a narrower part of the room, where the walls were closer together, I felt a little claustrophobic and the idea of standing there so close between dead people freaked me out. Anyway. Today when I went in, I first sat on the pew for a while, but then I got up and spent almost an hour walking around, looking at inscriptions on the plaques. Intermittently found between the generic "beloved so-and-so"'s were some truly lovely inscriptions. It's oddly comforting to read those; people really do love each other. Some people spend their whole lives together - what a marvelous adventure that must be. It did break my heart, though, when I came to plaques for a husband and wife who had died like 15 years apart or something... the inscription written by the spouse who was left behind was just so... lonely. It really made me sad. And then there are the couples who die in the same year. It must have been quite a love, to make you simply give up after your spouse has died.
When 2 o'clock rolled around, I drove up to the house and stayed until 5. The kids were feeling rather scientific today, so we made science experiments in the kitchen all afternoon. Cue: outrageous messes and me cleaning up every step of the way. Ah well. They enjoyed it, anyway.
On the way home I stopped at the harbor again. (I did that yesterday too; don't think I mentioned that.) I've been there almost every day of the week; I didn't realize how much I missed the place until I went there with Amelia on Tuesday. Walking alone used to make me nervous, but I'm either growing more brave or more careless. Not sure which, but it makes quiet walks much nicer. If you don't see me much, you probably don't know this - but being with people exhausts me. I mean I love them - and when I'm with them, I don't realize it. But this habit started sometime last year, where I have to go up to my room and hang out alone for a good 10 or 15 minutes after I come home from someplace. I go crazy if I don't have that amount of time to myself. Sounds lame, I know, but it's just true. These walks, I think, are a good way of calming me down too, though. Now when I come home after being gone all day, I don't need to hide in my room for quite so long. Walking at the harbor has already cleared my head. It's a good little arrangement for us.
Speaking of coming home.... oh yeah, a bit of news. HILLSDALE ACCEPTED ME! My first college acceptance letter! I'm actually rather hesitant about getting tooooo excited over this... because I've recently learned that Hillsdale has an extremely picky core curriculum, and if I went there it would add at least one semester (probably a year) to my college-attending-stint. Whiiich would be too bad. Negative point number 2 is that part of this core curriculum includes a college algebra class - which, yes, I've already taken... but I'd have to take THEIRS. Ugh. Also, I don't think they're going to offer me much financial aid - which sucks. Soooo there are definite cons. But oh the pros. It looks like such a good school - all these things aside, I mean. I guess I'll have to wait to hear from Wheaton, and then I can figure it all out. It was just really good to hear of at least one place accepting me. Hurrah!
Okay, it's now almost midnight - I took a break to eat dinner and watch "The Tree of Life" with the family. Definitely beautiful cinematography, and excellent acting. But hell's bells - WHAT? Most of it I got, I think.... but sometimes I felt really stupid. Mostly, however, I feel like the director was trying to mess with our minds in the name of art - which was heinously pretentious of him. He pulled most of it off - but I saw through him. Tsk tsk.
Also... ugh. I was being really stupid with last night's post. This stuff isn't worth getting upset about; it's hardly even worth writing about. (Yup - now I'm a cynic. Er... MORE of a cynic...) I was fine before it all came along, and I'll be fine now. Forgetting/locking-up it is.
15 days. Wow. I'm so ready for this.
The last time I was there, I think, was on Papa's birthday, back in October. I met Jon and Kate there after class and we sat together for a long while on the pew nearest the wall where he is. Apparently he told Mom that he wanted us all to come and visit his grave - which really tore me up for a while, because I hate cemeteries. They've always freaked me out. But I've been trying to force myself to go, so that it'll get easier; I owe that to Papa at least. The mausoleum, especially, always gave me the creeps, but I AM getting better at it. Although I'll admit that when I walked through a narrower part of the room, where the walls were closer together, I felt a little claustrophobic and the idea of standing there so close between dead people freaked me out. Anyway. Today when I went in, I first sat on the pew for a while, but then I got up and spent almost an hour walking around, looking at inscriptions on the plaques. Intermittently found between the generic "beloved so-and-so"'s were some truly lovely inscriptions. It's oddly comforting to read those; people really do love each other. Some people spend their whole lives together - what a marvelous adventure that must be. It did break my heart, though, when I came to plaques for a husband and wife who had died like 15 years apart or something... the inscription written by the spouse who was left behind was just so... lonely. It really made me sad. And then there are the couples who die in the same year. It must have been quite a love, to make you simply give up after your spouse has died.
When 2 o'clock rolled around, I drove up to the house and stayed until 5. The kids were feeling rather scientific today, so we made science experiments in the kitchen all afternoon. Cue: outrageous messes and me cleaning up every step of the way. Ah well. They enjoyed it, anyway.
On the way home I stopped at the harbor again. (I did that yesterday too; don't think I mentioned that.) I've been there almost every day of the week; I didn't realize how much I missed the place until I went there with Amelia on Tuesday. Walking alone used to make me nervous, but I'm either growing more brave or more careless. Not sure which, but it makes quiet walks much nicer. If you don't see me much, you probably don't know this - but being with people exhausts me. I mean I love them - and when I'm with them, I don't realize it. But this habit started sometime last year, where I have to go up to my room and hang out alone for a good 10 or 15 minutes after I come home from someplace. I go crazy if I don't have that amount of time to myself. Sounds lame, I know, but it's just true. These walks, I think, are a good way of calming me down too, though. Now when I come home after being gone all day, I don't need to hide in my room for quite so long. Walking at the harbor has already cleared my head. It's a good little arrangement for us.
Speaking of coming home.... oh yeah, a bit of news. HILLSDALE ACCEPTED ME! My first college acceptance letter! I'm actually rather hesitant about getting tooooo excited over this... because I've recently learned that Hillsdale has an extremely picky core curriculum, and if I went there it would add at least one semester (probably a year) to my college-attending-stint. Whiiich would be too bad. Negative point number 2 is that part of this core curriculum includes a college algebra class - which, yes, I've already taken... but I'd have to take THEIRS. Ugh. Also, I don't think they're going to offer me much financial aid - which sucks. Soooo there are definite cons. But oh the pros. It looks like such a good school - all these things aside, I mean. I guess I'll have to wait to hear from Wheaton, and then I can figure it all out. It was just really good to hear of at least one place accepting me. Hurrah!
Okay, it's now almost midnight - I took a break to eat dinner and watch "The Tree of Life" with the family. Definitely beautiful cinematography, and excellent acting. But hell's bells - WHAT? Most of it I got, I think.... but sometimes I felt really stupid. Mostly, however, I feel like the director was trying to mess with our minds in the name of art - which was heinously pretentious of him. He pulled most of it off - but I saw through him. Tsk tsk.
Also... ugh. I was being really stupid with last night's post. This stuff isn't worth getting upset about; it's hardly even worth writing about. (Yup - now I'm a cynic. Er... MORE of a cynic...) I was fine before it all came along, and I'll be fine now. Forgetting/locking-up it is.
15 days. Wow. I'm so ready for this.
Thursday, February 16, 2012
You the dancer and I the dreamer, children together.
This is disappointing. I've not written pretty much all month long? Inexcusable. Even more inexcusable is that, blogging aside, I've not written in a half year at least. UGH. I'm so uninspired when living a normal-person life. It's actually alarming how much I don't miss school (a bad sign for the next two or three years of my life, which will be spent in university)... but this lethargy is killing me. When I'm not at work, I feel like I'm wasting the time that I had so many hopes and plans for. This is mostly because work tires me out - flat out kills me, sometimes, but I can't talk about that here - so when I AM home, I'm far too tired to feel inspired. I haven't even read a book yet. I've tried reading "Brideshead Revisited" but am having a damnably hard time with it. I did recently acquire "Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close" from Megan, though, so I shall try my luck with that when my eyes don't hurt too much to read. (And no, me spending my time writing instead of reading is not hypocritical. I hardly watch the screen when I type. Also, I NEED TO WRITE DAMNIT.)
Speaking of work, I was there for 8 hours today. I am ambushed by exhaustion. And I REALLY want some coffee, but I can't make a whole pot just for myself... and agh. So I had two glasses of wine around dinner time, which (surprise!) didn't help me feel alert. That was a few hours ago though, so now I simply feel averagely tired and averagely bored and averagely in need of caffeine. Which I don't have. bleh. Anyway... rabbit trail. What I MEANT to say was, speaking of work, although today had its ridiculous moments, there was one moment that really warmed my heart. I've really learned a lot in this nannying business, and feel like a much more mature (well-rounded, at least) person for it. I never really had that much experience with kids before. I feel that I get on well with the younger two, especially - they really like me, and by much trial and error I have figured out how to get them on my side and how to get them to do what I want them to do. (Most of the time.) And sometimes they get surprisingly attached to me. Today, I was sitting with the 3 year-old on my lap while we watched his 7 year-old sister play games on the computer. He was playing with my hands for a while, and then eventually put them to rest on his stomach, so that I had my arms around him. I realized that their mom had asked me to take out the trash, and I'd forgotten - so I told him I had to get up and that I'd be right back. He gasped and said, "What? No! I just... I just want to hold you."
Gah. asdfkanerlknlkfffff. <3
Sheesh, this is tough. I really owe my blog an update (Katrina, at least), but I'm tired. Plus, I'm frustrated about things that I don't want to write about. Nothing makes sense these days. Stupid.
ahem...
Oh! Hey, so Valentines Day. I wasn't looking forward to it this year, because every year of my relatively recent history has been spent with Amelia, eating fancy home-made meals and watching "Pride and Prejudice". But Amelia had to babysit this year. So I was kinda bummed... but it ended up being a nice day. Since we couldn't spend the evening together, Amelia and I went out to breakfast (which, we decided, is what all single people probably do) and then went to the mall. I then convinced her to skip her only class of the day, and we went to the harbor and hung out for most of the day. When she went home, I came back to my house and Kate and I played "LOTR Trivial Pursuit", a game which we were quite obsessed with in our youth and haven't touched in a good seven or eight years. Reverting to our crazy childhood selves + wine and chocolate = a very fascinating and fabulous evening. Dad BBQ'd some steaks and the four of us ate dinner (Mom and Dad have never really gone out for V-day), annnnd... then we watched "Moneyball". Except that it was heinously boring. So Kate went to bed, and I followed suit a bit later. So it was a pretty pleasant day, over all. Except towards the end some weird things went down with some friends of mine and me... so that made the ending a little unpleasant. But yeah. I shouldn't start writing about that here.
GAH. SEE, this is why I haven't been writing!!! Katrina. You see what blogger does to me?!
sigh.
Yesterday (Wednesday, that is), I did absolutely nothing during the day. WAIT, not true. I got a haircut. A trim, really - and it actually looks really good. Just a quarter inch or so to clear the split ends, and then I got it thinned quite a bit so that it doesn't look all mangy and over-grown like it has been for the past 8 months. I haven't gotten a haircut in 8 months, isn't that weird? My hair grows so slowly. Anyway - oh, the lady also straightened it (I guess straight hair is easier to cut) and while it definitely looks better curly, the straight hair thing didn't look BAD by any means... at least I didn't think so. But towards the later part of the afternoon I went back to the harbor to meet a friend of mine, and midway through a conversation he looked over at me and said, "So... when does your hair go back to itself?" hahaha. My hair was having an identity crisis, clearly. Somehow I knew that he wouldn't like whatever I did with my hair at that salon. It's like how my dad has never approved of my hair. Guys just don't like changes with girls' hair. What's with that?
Anyway. I hung out with him for a few hours; it's been a while since I was at the harbor with somebody who had never been there, and I forgot how much joy I get in showing them the fabulous little secret places around the marina, and telling them funny stories about who did what when... stuff like that. I don't know any place in California that makes me as nostalgic as that harbor.
I guess one thing that I can say is that I'm frustrated with myself lately for not being as good to my friends as they are to me. I went to my favorite place with my two best friends, on two consecutive days, and walked around with each of them for hours... and thinking back on it, I really only contributed stupid things like "yeah" or "right" to any meaningful conversation. Not because I wasn't paying attention, or even because I couldn't think of anything to say.... I just... gah. I don't know. I feel like I just have to hold back sometimes. Which is stupid, because with my best friends of ALL PEOPLE, I shouldn't hold back. But I do. I don't really know why. Jeremy kinda called me on it, in a roundabout way - about how I don't really talk about my issues while I'm going through them. That's kinda true. And it's kinda lame of me. I mean I don't want to be the complete opposite, and ONLY talk about my problems... but I should be able to open up to the people who open up to me. And I don't. That realization makes me feel very selfish, and very unworthy of their friendship. Their love, really. I've been feeling that way a lot recently, actually - undeserving, I mean. Selfish, too. (Wow, lots of sentence fragments. You'd think an English Major would know better. I like how I capitalized "major".) Most of this comes back to the things that I don't want to write about... which really doesn't help either of us (me and the blogging world) in this instance. SEE WHAT I MEAN, I HOLD BACK. Annnnd... my laptop is dying because Kate stole my cord. Anyway. Okay, basically I don't know what I want out of certain life situations and I feel like I'm screwing up some very valuable friendships because of it. Simple enough to explain that way. (Y'know, I should count how many sentence fragments I do...) I feel like I'm in the dangerous middle-ground, between being a responsible friend who does the hard (but RIGHT!) thing, and the girl who goes for what feels good right now. Which is bad. BAD BAD BAD. Even just the fact that the latter idea has occurred to me makes me feel like an awful person. Worse, an awful friend.
I can't stand it. In the past, most of my drama has been so internalized that I was the only one (or one of a very small number of people) who was aware of it. But this is different. No matter what I do, I feel like I'm going to confuse people (myself included) and hurt them. And I can't take that kind of responsibility. I can get over instances where I confuse and hurt myself... that's easy. Just tell myself that it didn't happen and lock it away in some distant memory-room in my mind. (Seriously. It's alarming how easily I can do that.) But if I confuse and hurt someone that I care about... that's different. I can't forget that, and I certainly can't lock it away.
sigh. Growing pains.
Well! That was a bit long-winded. I don't know if I had anything else to say, update-wise, but I feel like I've said enough on this post. I teach tomorrow morning, and then I work from 1 to 5. I'm not sure what the evening holds, but I'll be happy, so long as it's not a stressful social situation... but seeing as how I have no plans, I don't think it will be.
This post was very... awkwardly worded. Ah well. Probably much more like my actual thought process than most posts. (Dissatisfying, isn't it?) If you think to, I'd appreciate prayers. I need to get over myself and treat these situations as they deserve to be treated - not how my anxiety-ridden conscience feels that they should be treated.
It is now February 17, even if this post is listed under the 16th. It's 12:07. I'm leaving in 16 days. WHAAAAATTTT.
Okay. Goodnight, folks.
Speaking of work, I was there for 8 hours today. I am ambushed by exhaustion. And I REALLY want some coffee, but I can't make a whole pot just for myself... and agh. So I had two glasses of wine around dinner time, which (surprise!) didn't help me feel alert. That was a few hours ago though, so now I simply feel averagely tired and averagely bored and averagely in need of caffeine. Which I don't have. bleh. Anyway... rabbit trail. What I MEANT to say was, speaking of work, although today had its ridiculous moments, there was one moment that really warmed my heart. I've really learned a lot in this nannying business, and feel like a much more mature (well-rounded, at least) person for it. I never really had that much experience with kids before. I feel that I get on well with the younger two, especially - they really like me, and by much trial and error I have figured out how to get them on my side and how to get them to do what I want them to do. (Most of the time.) And sometimes they get surprisingly attached to me. Today, I was sitting with the 3 year-old on my lap while we watched his 7 year-old sister play games on the computer. He was playing with my hands for a while, and then eventually put them to rest on his stomach, so that I had my arms around him. I realized that their mom had asked me to take out the trash, and I'd forgotten - so I told him I had to get up and that I'd be right back. He gasped and said, "What? No! I just... I just want to hold you."
Gah. asdfkanerlknlkfffff. <3
Sheesh, this is tough. I really owe my blog an update (Katrina, at least), but I'm tired. Plus, I'm frustrated about things that I don't want to write about. Nothing makes sense these days. Stupid.
ahem...
Oh! Hey, so Valentines Day. I wasn't looking forward to it this year, because every year of my relatively recent history has been spent with Amelia, eating fancy home-made meals and watching "Pride and Prejudice". But Amelia had to babysit this year. So I was kinda bummed... but it ended up being a nice day. Since we couldn't spend the evening together, Amelia and I went out to breakfast (which, we decided, is what all single people probably do) and then went to the mall. I then convinced her to skip her only class of the day, and we went to the harbor and hung out for most of the day. When she went home, I came back to my house and Kate and I played "LOTR Trivial Pursuit", a game which we were quite obsessed with in our youth and haven't touched in a good seven or eight years. Reverting to our crazy childhood selves + wine and chocolate = a very fascinating and fabulous evening. Dad BBQ'd some steaks and the four of us ate dinner (Mom and Dad have never really gone out for V-day), annnnd... then we watched "Moneyball". Except that it was heinously boring. So Kate went to bed, and I followed suit a bit later. So it was a pretty pleasant day, over all. Except towards the end some weird things went down with some friends of mine and me... so that made the ending a little unpleasant. But yeah. I shouldn't start writing about that here.
GAH. SEE, this is why I haven't been writing!!! Katrina. You see what blogger does to me?!
sigh.
Yesterday (Wednesday, that is), I did absolutely nothing during the day. WAIT, not true. I got a haircut. A trim, really - and it actually looks really good. Just a quarter inch or so to clear the split ends, and then I got it thinned quite a bit so that it doesn't look all mangy and over-grown like it has been for the past 8 months. I haven't gotten a haircut in 8 months, isn't that weird? My hair grows so slowly. Anyway - oh, the lady also straightened it (I guess straight hair is easier to cut) and while it definitely looks better curly, the straight hair thing didn't look BAD by any means... at least I didn't think so. But towards the later part of the afternoon I went back to the harbor to meet a friend of mine, and midway through a conversation he looked over at me and said, "So... when does your hair go back to itself?" hahaha. My hair was having an identity crisis, clearly. Somehow I knew that he wouldn't like whatever I did with my hair at that salon. It's like how my dad has never approved of my hair. Guys just don't like changes with girls' hair. What's with that?
Anyway. I hung out with him for a few hours; it's been a while since I was at the harbor with somebody who had never been there, and I forgot how much joy I get in showing them the fabulous little secret places around the marina, and telling them funny stories about who did what when... stuff like that. I don't know any place in California that makes me as nostalgic as that harbor.
I guess one thing that I can say is that I'm frustrated with myself lately for not being as good to my friends as they are to me. I went to my favorite place with my two best friends, on two consecutive days, and walked around with each of them for hours... and thinking back on it, I really only contributed stupid things like "yeah" or "right" to any meaningful conversation. Not because I wasn't paying attention, or even because I couldn't think of anything to say.... I just... gah. I don't know. I feel like I just have to hold back sometimes. Which is stupid, because with my best friends of ALL PEOPLE, I shouldn't hold back. But I do. I don't really know why. Jeremy kinda called me on it, in a roundabout way - about how I don't really talk about my issues while I'm going through them. That's kinda true. And it's kinda lame of me. I mean I don't want to be the complete opposite, and ONLY talk about my problems... but I should be able to open up to the people who open up to me. And I don't. That realization makes me feel very selfish, and very unworthy of their friendship. Their love, really. I've been feeling that way a lot recently, actually - undeserving, I mean. Selfish, too. (Wow, lots of sentence fragments. You'd think an English Major would know better. I like how I capitalized "major".) Most of this comes back to the things that I don't want to write about... which really doesn't help either of us (me and the blogging world) in this instance. SEE WHAT I MEAN, I HOLD BACK. Annnnd... my laptop is dying because Kate stole my cord. Anyway. Okay, basically I don't know what I want out of certain life situations and I feel like I'm screwing up some very valuable friendships because of it. Simple enough to explain that way. (Y'know, I should count how many sentence fragments I do...) I feel like I'm in the dangerous middle-ground, between being a responsible friend who does the hard (but RIGHT!) thing, and the girl who goes for what feels good right now. Which is bad. BAD BAD BAD. Even just the fact that the latter idea has occurred to me makes me feel like an awful person. Worse, an awful friend.
I can't stand it. In the past, most of my drama has been so internalized that I was the only one (or one of a very small number of people) who was aware of it. But this is different. No matter what I do, I feel like I'm going to confuse people (myself included) and hurt them. And I can't take that kind of responsibility. I can get over instances where I confuse and hurt myself... that's easy. Just tell myself that it didn't happen and lock it away in some distant memory-room in my mind. (Seriously. It's alarming how easily I can do that.) But if I confuse and hurt someone that I care about... that's different. I can't forget that, and I certainly can't lock it away.
sigh. Growing pains.
Well! That was a bit long-winded. I don't know if I had anything else to say, update-wise, but I feel like I've said enough on this post. I teach tomorrow morning, and then I work from 1 to 5. I'm not sure what the evening holds, but I'll be happy, so long as it's not a stressful social situation... but seeing as how I have no plans, I don't think it will be.
This post was very... awkwardly worded. Ah well. Probably much more like my actual thought process than most posts. (Dissatisfying, isn't it?) If you think to, I'd appreciate prayers. I need to get over myself and treat these situations as they deserve to be treated - not how my anxiety-ridden conscience feels that they should be treated.
It is now February 17, even if this post is listed under the 16th. It's 12:07. I'm leaving in 16 days. WHAAAAATTTT.
Okay. Goodnight, folks.
Poetry knocks me out.
April Midnight
by Arthur Symons
Side by side through the streets at midnight,
Roaming together,
Through the tumultuous night of London,
In the miraculous April weather.
Roaming together under the gaslight,
Day’s work over,
How the Spring calls to us, here in the city,
Calls to the heart from the heart of a lover!
Cool to the wind blows, fresh in our faces,
Cleansing, entrancing,
After the heat and the fumes and the footlights,
Where you dance and I watch your dancing.
Good it is to be here together,
Good to be roaming,
Even in London, even at midnight,
Lover-like in a lover’s gloaming.
You the dancer and I the dreamer,
Children together,
Wandering lost in the night of London,
In the miraculous April weather.
by Arthur Symons
Side by side through the streets at midnight,
Roaming together,
Through the tumultuous night of London,
In the miraculous April weather.
Roaming together under the gaslight,
Day’s work over,
How the Spring calls to us, here in the city,
Calls to the heart from the heart of a lover!
Cool to the wind blows, fresh in our faces,
Cleansing, entrancing,
After the heat and the fumes and the footlights,
Where you dance and I watch your dancing.
Good it is to be here together,
Good to be roaming,
Even in London, even at midnight,
Lover-like in a lover’s gloaming.
You the dancer and I the dreamer,
Children together,
Wandering lost in the night of London,
In the miraculous April weather.
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