WTF

Realization: I miss school stress.

Yes. I know.

Gone 'till Friday on the Appalachian Trail/Trial. Haha.

Peut-etre?

In the midst of plotting escape numero dos from suburbia...horray for the Keystone Appalachian Trail Council. Question of the night: can I hike 12 miles of flat in a day? A long day? Am I nuts? Prior to two weeks ago's jaunt, I'd never done more than nine miles, well, to the best of my knowledge. I don't really remember the Sierra's trip, but I feel like I woulda remembered mileage like that. Not to mention going out with a trail virgin. Methinks nuts? Votes?

So it's breaking down like this...
Tuesday afternoon-hike in a few miles and camp
Wednesday-10-ish on easy elevation
Thursday-6ish. But only 'cause ya can't camp any further down
Friday-11miles. But dead flat. Like, less than 10 feet of elevation gained. Total. (God I love the Eastern Mountains)

27 miles in basically, 3 days, strikes me as a wee bit ambitious...Hmmm.

Stream of Consciousness

I've been poking around all night, feeling like I should sit down and write, but can't justify it 'cause I've got nothing to say. I'm sitting in my kitchen, and its ten till 12, I'm listening to Jason Mraz mix with midnight, and wondering how long I can get away with this before I pass out or the crazy cat lady next door starts complaining. I'm thinking about sitting and watching the sunset, and wishing I wasn't, but I can't get the sound of the rigging clanging and the geese and the seagulls and I swear I heard it get quieter as the light diminished. Maybe it was just me. Most likely it was just me. I'm sitting here trying to remember how the water does that slow dance, rising and falling, and like magic my breathing slows to match it, the world slows to match it, everything falls in time to the cadence of the quiet rhythmic heaving. I'm remembering all the other stolen sunsets, sitting and watching and wondering which was more beautiful, retiring the day, or just having the presence of mind to sit and just be. Be. Yes. Life is so cluttered, so rarely do I realize it, until things are splashed into my face. Like paying $75 bucks at the airport for the privledge of hauling all my worldly possessions from one side of the country to the other. Only to arrive home to more useless crap. I'm such a pack-rat, case in point for my pragmatism versus romanticism. How the fuck did I convince myself my third grade swimming ribbons mean something? Or walking across Virginia, emerging from the wilds of the Appalachian Trail and my mind to the top of some clear quintessential bald, pouring rain, to peer out upon civilization, only to realize, I have everything I need to survive right there. Sobering. Enlightening. I swear, one day I will through hike it. Or at least attempt. There, thus added to the neverending list of Peggy's unnamable pipedreams. Right up there with becoming an interpreter. Or a concert caliber musician. Its almost as if, if I make my passions known, I might just convince myself into acting on them. And that invites investing myself wholeheartedly. And that risks, well, more than I'm willing. I've talked myself into enough headless risk for a while, enough for my tastes. Off to California in a few weeks to commence/continue masquerading as an adult. I'm actually, contrary to popular belief, that shit frightens the crap out of me. In an intriguing kind of way, yes, but still. Scared. Shitless. Maybe its because I take on so much responsibility normally, but usually its nothing to life threatening. Not, you know, paying rent, food shopping, watching out for money. That is something very very different. Honestly, more than anything else, I think I'm actually finally ready to be in the same place with the same people for more than nine months at a time. I guess that's a constant battle of mine--lassitude, contentment, or wanderlust. I feel like I've basically been new for the past five years running. Yes, I've chosen that, sought it out, drempt about it even, but that doesn't make it less exhausting. Freshman year of high school, sure, I'll give them that. Sophomore year, not really new, but did the whole new friends thing after everyone graduated. Junior year I fled, and senior year same old story. And now the blissful ecstasy of college, but no, that can't even be good enough for me and I have to run away again. Don't get me wrong, I have every faith in myself and god knows who or what else that Russia will amaze. I know this. I know I will get so much out of it, and tomorrow I'll probably wake up reaching for the day I can leave the country. Sometimes it makes me feel like a turtle, with my house on my back. Only problem is its too small for anyone but me. I'm getting better at holding on to people through wrenching departures, but that too breeds a sick complacency. I get to thinking that the good people remain, the people I'm most close to, the ones that mean the most will make a point of sticking by me throw all my gallivanting. That's sick though, I mean, some of it has got to fall on me, leaving everything to fate is absurd. The only person that leaves pissed is me. Productive, check. I think I miss music, maybe that's where all of this is coming from. I haven't sat down and played for more than a month. I can feel it, feel myself quaking for it, but knowing that when I do summon up the courage to sit and pound and band and caress, it'll be highly anticlimactic. And I'll be pissed at myself for letting go of so much. I hate it that not caring never used to matter, I hate it that now that I've pinned so much importance to everything that I've discovered this year, I can't go back to being jaded, I can't go back to pretending. Nor would I want to. But everything requires so much more energy now, then skating by used to. But I'm not a bare minimum kind of child, I can't be, I hate myself when I am. That's part of why this semester made me so angry, because I was so swamped and confused and foggy and misguided and present and contemplative and free that school got put last, music kept me glued, but studies, yea, severely neglected. I hate committing to something and then seeing it shittily through. Like, whets the use of being there if you can't fulfill your duties, why bother. Out of my not so stellar GPA, I'm more possessed by my A- in Russian than anything else. More than my C in Spanish, B in Inventing America, B- in Logic. That A- killed the most because thats what I love, thats where my heart goes when my mind wanders, thats what I do with my brain turned off. Thats what I see devoting myself too, even over music, I'd choose it over that sanity. A big fat reminder of how much I don't have things together, how far I let things go, how much I let intrude between me and getting things done. Well done, Peggy, nicely done. I don't mind fucking up for things that I don't care about. But for things that matter, I tear myself apart. We won't even talk about performance anxiety and self criticism. I'm magically hoping that I'll come back from the Old continent next year and be the poised, self confident, witty, expressive person whom I attempt to exude. And most definitely not friends with my stage fright demons. Bah. I wish it would storm. I can feel the tension building in the air, hot and heavy, electric. Or maybe that's just me.

Backpacking

"Now I truly believe that we in this generation must come to terms with nature, and I think we're challenged, as mankind has never been challenged before, to prove our maturity and our mastery, not of nature but of ourselves."
— Rachel Carson, "Silent Spring"

"Thousands of tired, nerve-shaken, over-civilized people are beginning to find out that going to the mountains is going home; that wilderness is a necessity; and that mountain parks and reservations are useful not only as fountains of timber and irrigating rivers, but as fountains of life."
— John Muir

We simply need that wild country available to us, even if we never do more than drive to its edge and look in. For it can be a means of reassuring ourselves of our sanity as creatures, a part of the geography of hope.
-- Wallace Stegner

I sit beside the fire and thinkof all that I have seen,of meadow-flowers and butterfliesin summers that have been;Of yellow leaves and gossamerin autumns that there were,with morning mist and silver sunand wind upon my hair.
--J. R. R. Tolkien (The Fellowship of the Ring)


*sigh*

I'm clean and inside and BORED. I wanna go camp some more.

Well Said

Maybe you said it the best yourself, granted, I'm very badly misquoting you, "Its like the impulsive passionate run by instinct artist part of my brain is beating the analytical pragmatic one to death....Except they haven't quite figured out who's winning yet." Lord. If you only knew.

I can see it coming and damn it, I can't remember my brain long enough to stop it.

Cryptic. Yea. Cryptic covers up not knowing what the heck you're actually saying.

Layers

Written earlier on the train into the city...


Oh, the sliding tableaux of past lives that coming home always exhudes. How a minute is a lifetime, existence sucked into the void of memory, to be tasted, tossed about, twirled on my tongue. Rehashed to death. Relived. Regurgitated again, and rehearsed for next year's run. I often feel like my life is lived in layers, that at every single moment I carry with me the live action portrayal of every other single stolen minute. I see glimpses of these half remembered days trunslucently, with hard edges here and there nosing out and intruding on this supposed reality, but nothing more. And then, I wonder where the division betwen then and now really lies, if life continues pulsing and beating and dancing once my presence is elsewhere. Who am I to say that my perception is getting it right?

I'm on my way into DC, thank christ, I don't think I could've stood quite another minute of suburban perfection oozing at me from all directions. Not today. Not with grades in. I feel better already, just sitting on the metro, like I'm sitting straighter, freer. Like I can handle myself so much better, so much more affectively, on my to somewhere else. I wish it weren't so, really I do. I ache for the days when I could attatch meaning to places, and never think about it again. I wish I could be content, could satisfy myself that easily. I can't fathom the day I put down roots, I can't imagine any place ever maintaining good enough.

Maybe Russia will cure me of the restlessness for a while--a temporary treatment. Or it'll make life even more unbearably stagnant once the real world resumes.

I love people watching...More than that I love people watching me watch them back...

I am a horrible person.

Horray for prom. Horray for looking hot, almost totally thanks to the goodness and kindness of strangers. I and my bullshitting abilities kick ass. Horray for prom being done. Horray for being reminded of EVERY SINGLE REASON WHY I GO TO SKANKY BAREFOOT HIPPIE SCHOOL 3000 miles away from here. I spent most of the night hiding behind the snack tray(not like that. It was the right height to hide behind), or avoiding a procession of Ex's and squeaky people. But yes, I even danced sober. Hahaha, see? It is possible. But I did get some much needed catch up time with my boys. Granted, I'd envisioned brighter circumstances than playing duck and cover from his date, but hey, thats ok. I'm the queen of improv.

But yeah y'all. Don't ever stick me on seductress Jelous Girlfriend patrol. Because I will have way to much fun with it. Come now. Be reasonable.

Live Update

Two Days and 24 hours of sleep later...let the girlifying of Peggy commence.

*shudders*

Seeing as all my "girlie girl" friends (thanks dad. really.) are either unavailable, because they're still at school, or because i've been my malevolent bitter truthtelling self one too many times, I'm left brutally solo for tommorow night.

So. Plan of the moment. Clinique "free consultation" (heheheh, worked for us in Prague all those times, proc ne?) and then praying I can be in and out of Haircuttery in less than an hour and 30 bucks. Alas, not putting very much real hope in either.

An afternoon of the wonders of Windle running around Ellicott, and I'm almost re-convinced this whole hellish ordeal might just prove fufilling after all. But the specter of 10 hours of sobriety in the company of a crowd of 16-18 year olds who are totally obsessed with...their mutual bad-assdom...yea. Less than inspiring.

Thank crap I have something to wear. Totally the high point of the day.

Take THAT Bon squishy. I win.

Particularly resonant

So while cleaning tonight madly, I found this letter I wrote to myself back in August. It was the last night of our NSO breakaway adventure, the last night officially pre-college. I read through it and laughed, cried, got tremendously embarrased, pretty much you name it. But I thought a lot of it rang particularly true tonight, the last night of my freshman year. Again, the precipices...

August 24, 2005
Hey Peg,

So again here I am on the brink. Its the last night of our Breakaway, and we're sitting here roasting in the bunkhouse at Opal Creek. It feels kinda like an anticlimactic end to this week, an unexpected let down, curious after I've spent the better part of this outing guarding myself against cold and pain. But I'm warm and dry, so I really can't complain that much. I feel like I've hit my people quota for the week, so its getting harder and harder to keep myself involved and present. But sitting here is infinitly better than facing what morning has to offer. It wasn't until we hit Jawbone this afternoon that the reality of this event really hit me. Tomorow I'm starting college. Then finally I was able to lok around me for the first time, see through the perpetual drip drizzle, and fully take in the mountanis. This is a truly beautiful place, which I get four years to explore. I'm pysched.

I don't really know what else to say. I feel like I'm in such a better place now vesus the last time I wrote one of these letters. I'm ready to get this year started, get the useless awkwardness of the first few weeks in a new place over and done with. I feel so on edge, this nagging nervousness and everything, like theres always something I'm not doing to make this portion of my life OK. Aprehension...I'm working so hard to not hope up inside myself, to keep up in the inner circle, not chilling onthe outside watchingall the time. It takes so much energy, but this time around I know how much its worth. Its funny, the pulling instincts- to hole up and be with my head-or keep throwing myself ointo the ring. I'm excited about Akin,...My lingering worry is to just get overwhelmed. WIth school work, with being around people, with being so far away for so long. Right now its just too much blank space to fill, uninmaginable.

I'm sitting transfixed by fire, flames mirrored against the pouring rain. Yes its raining. For the fourth night in a row. It is possible. But I made it. I even made it down the two mile descent from hell on my bad knees. Thats why I love backpacking- the knowledge oozing from your body that you've conquere something difficult. Even if its shitty in the process.

So no wellwishes this time around. Although it was pretty funny to hear me whining in retrospect. I will be satisfied if you feel like you've lived, loved, and learned tremendously. I will be happy if you've challenged yourself, and happily sought challenge from others. Everything else is a bonus.

Oh, and please. No more shitty boyfriends, alright?

Love,
P


So true, on so many levels. I feel my 16 year old self, pre AFS, yelling at my 18 year old self to wise up and stop hiding behind so many pretty words. And they're both sitting, glowering at me today, imploring me to stop being so damn dramatic all the time- that in the mean time the world is running away.

Yes, Ani. "Sometimes the best lessons are learned at the worst times"

I wonder what we have when we're not pretending, its neverending, haven't you heard?

fulduh: i died today. and now im rebuilding. i think. i hope.
fulduh: i spent 2 hours in the counseling center today. it was...scary. in a good way. i really dont want to come home
AcappSngr: what are afraid of/why not?
fulduh: im realizing that i did what i did this weekend somehow in response to alot of things there...more of a fuck you world than anything else...and im realizing that...home is not a good place to be. that the longer im there the more i believe what they say...and thats really not a good thing. but ik now when im there ill forget all of this...i get so wrapped up in being the person that they think i am...that they think i should be...and i forget whats really under there.
fulduh: this is all absurd.all of it. and damn it...i dont like the person theyd have me be. but i cant...because so much of it is who i am...and everything i hate about him are the best parts of me.
AcappSngr: i cant advise you or come close to it .. all i can say is im here for you i love you like a sister and i am here for you
fulduh: i know ...that means....a lot more than you think
fulduh: can we go to the bay...?
fulduh: its funny...i dont know why...everytime im...not doing well i have ocean dreams. and i wake up hearing waves ringing...and its a huge...disappointment.
AcappSngr: waters a powerful thing
fulduh: i heard a seagull the other day..it almost made me cry. and then we had a thunderstorm...and ive never felt so...relieved.
AcappSngr: you should have gone out and stood in it ... thats one of the most relaxing things ive ever done
fulduh: but just listening...i sat outside last night talking to afriend until 2...for the first time i wished i had any composition skills...i would write that night...write the whitenoise and trains moaning and wind and leaves and pretend silence
fulduh: god boy, im a mess.
AcappSngr: ah yes ... but apparently for you tourtured and poetic go hand in hand
fulduh: i hide behind words. have you not figured that out already
fulduh: words are withdrawn. i control words.
AcappSngr: thats probly why you have such a strong attraction to music; less refined and controlled
AcappSngr: you hide behind words, but there is no way to hide behind music, it is truly your soul in the air, it is you expressing you, passion, love regret, loss, yearning, hope, pick an adjective: that's music ... you cant control what you feel each time, you cant control what you do each time ... words are different, words mean one thing, say one thing, music can speak so many different things at once ,,, sorry ill stop before i write a dissertation
fulduh: what you said makes a lot of sense
fulduh: like...playing is a way of facing my fears...of having everything that ive been concealing bared...
AcappSngr: yeah .. i know ... its the same for me .... at least when i put my heart into it
fulduh: having to face emotion
fulduh: and thats why i hate performing...get such stage fright
fulduh: because youre up there and theres no avoiding the fact hat everyone out there knows the deepest secrets of your soul...that the whole world can see right through you
AcappSngr: ah yes ... but the entire audience is letting their soul be bared throught the music as well .. which is why i disagree that the audience is the reason you play .. i think that the audience is there for themselves .. not for you
fulduh: i dont thknk the audience is the reason you play, almost like theyre there witnessing...some intrinsic transendental experience...like stumbling onto someone masterbating...or being born.


Aww Chris. You saved me today. I hope you know that.

Because I'm Too Shellshocked for the Neccesary Nostalgia

Said "I love you" and meant it.
Hugged a tree.
Done a striptease.
Bungee jumped.
Visited Paris.
Watched a lightning storm at sea.
Stayed up all night long and watch the sunrise.
Seen the Northern Lights.
Gone to a huge sports game.
Grown and eaten your own vegetables. *sigh* chybi mne Zdelove
Touched an iceberg.
Slept under the stars.
Changed a baby's diaper.
Taken a trip in a hot air balloon.
Watched a meteor shower.
Gotten drunk on champagne. Yea Novy Rok and almost getting blown up by Honza's bottle rocket
Given more than you can afford to charity.
Looked up at the night sky through a telescope.
Had an uncontrollable giggling fit at the worst possible moment. lord all the time
Had a food fight.
Bet on a winning horse.
Taken a sick day when you're not ill.
Asked out a stranger.
Had a snowball fight.
Photocopied your bottom on the office photocopier.
Screamed as loudly as you possibly can.
Held a lamb.
Organized and planned a surprise party for a loved one.
Taken a midnight skinny dip. So beautiful...
Taken an ice cold shower.
Had a meaningful conversation with a beggar.
Seen a total eclipse.
Ridden a roller coaster.
Hit a home run.
Fit three weeks miraculously into three days.
Danced like a fool and not cared who was looking. Yea but I was heinously drunk at the time...
Adopted an accent for an entire day.
Visited the birthplace of your ancestors. Some Day...
Actually felt happy about your life, even for just a moment.
Had two hard drives for your computer.
Visited all 50 states.
Loved your job for all accounts.
Taken care of someone who was really sick.
Had enough money to be truly satisfied.
Have amazing friends.
Danced with a stranger in a foreign country.
Watched wild whales.
Stolen a sign.
Backpacked in Europe.
Taken a road-trip.
Rock climbing.
Lied to foreign government's official in that country to avoid notice. So Toronto shouldn't probably count...
Midnight walk on the beach.
Sky diving.
Visited Ireland.
Been heartbroken longer then you were actually in love.
In a restaurant, sat at a stranger's table and had a meal with them.
Visited Japan.
Bench pressed your own weight.
Milked a cow.
Alphabetized your cds.
Pretended to be a superhero.
Sung karaoke.
Lounged around in bed all day.
Protested something you feel strongly against.
Scuba diving.
Got it on to "Let's Get It On" by Marvin Gaye.
Kissed in the rain.
Played in the rain.
Gone to a drive-in theater.
Done something you should regret, but don't regret it.
Started a business.
Discovered that someone who's not supposed to have known about your blog has discovered your blog. Hi Mom!
Dropped Windows in favor of something better.
Fallen in love and not had your heart broken.
Toured ancient sites. Me gustan los castillos
Taken a martial arts class for like 7 years.
Swordfought for the honor of a woman.
Played a DVD for more than 6 hours straight. oh COME ON. hello sick days people.
Been in a movie.
Crashed a party.
Loved someone you shouldn't have.
Kissed someone so passionately it made them dizzy.
Gotten divorced.
Started an office war.
Gone without food for 5 days.
Made cookies from scratch.
Won first prize in a costume contest.
Ridden a gondola in Venice.
Gotten a tattoo.
Rafted the Snake River.
Been on television news programs as an "expert".
Got flowers for no reason.
Made out in a public place.
Got so drunk you don't remember anything. *winces*
Been addicted to some form of illegal drug.
Performed on stage. longer than I can remember...
Recorded music.
Eaten shark.
Drank an entire 6 pack by yourself.
Gone to Thailand.
Seen Siouxsie live.
Bought a house.
Been in a combat zone.
Buried one/both of your parents.
Shaved all of your hair off.
Been on a cruise ship.
Spoken more than one language fluently. Though I definitly hesitate to bold this one...
Gotten into a fight while attempting to defend someone.
Bounced a check.
Performed in theatre. Had like three lines in 5th grade Hamlet
Read - and understood - your credit report.
Raised children.
Taken a bicycle tour in a foreign country.
Found out something significant that your ancestors did.
Called or written your Congress person.
Picked up and moved to another city to just start over. Not unless college counts.
Walked the Golden Gate Bridge.
Sang loudly in the car, and didn't stop when you knew someone was looking.
Had an abortion.
Had plastic surgery.
Survived an accident that you shouldn't have survived.
Held someone while they were having a flashback.
Piloted an airplane.
Pet a stingray.
Broken someone's heart.
Helped an animal give birth.
Been fired or laid off from a job.
Won money on a T.V. game show.
Broken a bone.
Killed a human being.
Gone on an African photo safari.
Ridden a motorcycle.
Driven any land vehicle at a speed of greater than 100km/h.
Had a body part of yours below the neck pierced.
Fired a rifle, shotgun, or pistol.
Eaten mushrooms that were gathered in the wild. Czech national past time...;-)
Ridden a horse.
Had major surgery.
Ridden on a passenger train.
Had a snake as a pet.
Hiked to the bottom of the Grand Canyon.
Slept through an entire flight: takeoff, flight, and landing.
Slept for more than 30 hours over the course of 48 hours.
Visited more foreign countries than U.S. states.
Visited all 7 continents. Espero que un dia...
Taken a canoe trip that lasted more than 2 days.
Eaten kangaroo meat.
Fallen in love at an ancient Mayan burial ground.
Been a sperm or egg donor.
Eaten sushi.
Had your picture in the newspaper.
Had 2 healthy romantic relationships for over a year in your lifetime.
Changed someone's mind about something you care deeply about.
Gotten someone fired for their actions.
Gone back to school.
Parasailed.
Changed your name.
Petted a cockroach.
Eaten fried green tomatoes.
Read The Iliad.
Selected one "important" author who you missed in school, and read a book by them.
Dined in a restaurant and stolen silverware, plates, or cups because your apartment needed them. May as well just start calling the Bon friggin K Mart.
Taught yourself an art from scratch.
Killed and prepared an animal for eating.
Apologized to someone years after inflicting the hurt.
Skipped all your school reunions. Call it a proactive bolding...
Communicated with someone without sharing a common spoken language.
Been elected to public office.
Written your own computer language.
Thought to yourself that you're living your dream. What a fleeting thought...sadly.
Had to put someone you love into hospice care.
Built your own PC from parts.
Sold your own artwork to someone who didn't know you.
Had a booth at a street fair.
Dyed your hair.
Been a DJ.
Found out someone was going to dump you via LiveJournal.
Written your own role playing game.
Been arrested.
Hated someone.

A Little Bit of ...

Horray for inner torment. Seems to be one of those moments where everything is perfectly and opaquely clear. Except for my fucking paper, which I should be attacking. Right now.

Ok.

So I'm a sloppy drunk. This much we knew. Maybe even a bit promiscious. Also shouldn't be any huge revelation.

I refuse to appologize for my actions. Because I'm not sorry, I don't regret what I did. In fact, I had a good time. Maybe even enjoyed myself. Yea. So damn it world, STOP TRYING TO MAKE ME FEEL GUILTY.

Just because I did things I have only dreamed about (and I do mean that) that I would never allow myself the freedom of, does not mean my life should crumble.

Just because that night I was was not a me that I'm particularly used to being, does not mean it wasn't me. No, pride is probably not the first thing that comes to mind right about now, damn it, I'm human. I make choices, and I reap all the consequences.

I'd do it again.