People are talking simaltaneously in all my languages and I think my brain might just implode from trying to eavesdrop on all of their conversations at once.
JAK ja bych chtela CESTOVATTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT. OK. I'm done.
I think I've fallen in love with Peggy the city girl. Fallen all over again. I'm on the busw back up to the apartment, looking down over the skyline of my beautiful city, writing, and rocking out to some crazyass African folk music. Its been raining all day, and I'm pysched by the small unlikely inkling of a thunderstorm tonight. Most of all, I love that I'm on transit, eavesdropping like mad, and writing again.
Oh, for a cup of coffee and a stolen moment, I thouch the moon with hot red ponderances.
I must catch up on sleep before I go totally insane.
Tuesday, May 23, 2006
Visceral
The thing that always amazes me is my most visceral reaction to tradtion. To the places that I grew up in, grew into, and grew around. I have become so adept at functioning as a chameleon, at running at the surface and getting a pretty good pretty early read on places, that I forget what its like to know, instinctively. To not have to try so hard, all the time. Its...disconcerting.
On my way home...what a funny perpetuity.
Someone asked me this morning where I was going, and for maybe the first time in the airport, I hesitated. It wanted to come out "home", but never quite got there. And then I started to wonder, is this really it? I'm finished with that life, destined to a new age of weekend visits and fleeting glances on semi neutral territory? It just seems bizzare, yet another sign of this surreal and grand adulthood, that I can go home and be with my family, and then leave, be done with them, and come really home to our apartment. Like, when does home stop being home and just become just someplace you visit?
I must admit, I can never quite escape that trepidation going home, that urge to primp and present myself. I thought it used to be just seing LuLu, but I think its a greater issue of just wanting to prove progress. I come back so rarely, and such a long chunk of time passes between visits, I always want to show outwardly the changes and work and maturity that I've exprienced since the last venture east. Hence the haircut (though in my defense long since neccesary), I pluck my eyebrows, I obsess over the clothes that I bring, and become totally possessed by little stupid things that fall outside whatever "me" of the moment that I'm trying to channel. Totally hyperobsessing over my toenail polish right now, when , I mean really, what the hell does it matter?!
I must admit, I can never quite escape that trepidation going home, that urge to primp and present myself. I thought it used to be just seing LuLu, but I think its a greater issue of just wanting to prove progress. I come back so rarely, and such a long chunk of time passes between visits, I always want to show outwardly the changes and work and maturity that I've exprienced since the last venture east. Hence the haircut (though in my defense long since neccesary), I pluck my eyebrows, I obsess over the clothes that I bring, and become totally possessed by little stupid things that fall outside whatever "me" of the moment that I'm trying to channel. Totally hyperobsessing over my toenail polish right now, when , I mean really, what the hell does it matter?!
Monday, May 15, 2006
Sunday, May 14, 2006
Responsibilitieeeeeeeeee Yeah.
Seeing as in this one week in the adult world I've already amassed like, 10 pages of blog bitches to catch up on, I figured I might as well venture back and rediscover my blogger sign on. And hey, if nothing else, an intruiging diversion at work. Now that I've edited all my photos from this year, like, what else am I gonna do?
Revelations/Recommendations of the Week:
1) Pay any and all university bills when you get them. Not like a month later, when you kinda sorta think your tuition might finally be do.
2) I realised that *gasp* I am working my job because I like it and it is meaningful to me and is challenging, and thats worth more to me than temping somewhere for almost twice as much money. Which is good, seeing as I will spend the rest of my life working heart jobs, instead of checkbook jobs. But yea, weird.
3) Keys are a very strange mark of stature. No seriously, think about it. The more keys you have, the more ties you have to your life around you, the structure that holds the world together, in a strange sort of way. I remember first getting a house key, in like sixth grade, and what a moment that was, what a marker in the coming of age saga, to finally be considered worthy enough and responsible enough to be entrusted a key and being home by myself. And the similar gasp when I was given car keys sometime in tenth grade, keys to Evans freshman year, etc. Well, my keyring is now bulging, and it kinda frightens me with its dearth. In the past week I've added a key to the building I work in, the key to "my" office, the key to our complex, the key to our appartment (!), and of course, my own personal favorite, the key to my bike lock. I think its mostly the speed of the transition. In like, two days I go from the watercolor world of writing papers and alarm clocks and cafeterias, to swiping anything I possibly can out of the staff room at my job, keeping a check book balance, finding my checkbook, arguing with people I owe money, budgeting, grocery shopping, arguing with payroll, going to MEETINGS, buying bus passes. Weird. Just. Weird.
4) Goodwill = God. Portland Goodwill not nearly as orgasmic as Chicago, but hey. I got me kitchenwear for like five bucks and thats pretty damn nice in my book.
5) I am really friggin' young. I spend all day with people more than twice my age, and no matter what feeble attempts I make at looking or acting older than I am, I always manage to stutter, or trip over my heal, or say something stupid, or get caught running to the bathroom barefoot 'cause my shoes are too damn uncomfortable. I'm beginning to realize that my age is really only an advantage, as disconcerting as it is, because having all these people just assume I am their twenty-something daughter, well, it only gets me into more places, and given more knowledge, and included in more things in the work setting than I would otherwise. So suck it up and deal Peggy. Be that as it may, someone really needs to teach me how to comport myself in that setting, how to dress myself, how to speak on the phone with really important people. Or better yet, just not be intimidated that quickly.
6) I really like being back on my own. I really like the appartment thing. It kind of hit me, earlier in the week when I was sitting outside waiting for my bosses to arrive and open up the place, that long lost joy bumping in my chest. I've never been able to properly explain to anyone, the euphoria and exhiliration I get when I'm abroad, when my every move is soley up to me, when I am not dependent on anyone, and no one has any needs or responsibilities towards me. The grace of independence, the freedom of being in control of myself, the fear of the unknown because I am in control of myself. Realizing this, is its own small breakthrough, because I never really thought I could have that feeling back in this country, under these circumstances, I thought I'd be trapped for the duration.
7) A new coat of paint does wonders, but so does newspaper on the ground first. You live, you learn, right?
All for now. Good vibes to Sarah G, on your way to somewhere new...I am heinously heinously jelous...Three years, is a seriously long time.
Send good vibes my way next friday, when I start on my way back to the bubble for the weekend. How much havoc can one really wreak in less than 48 hours? Stay tuned.
Revelations/Recommendations of the Week:
1) Pay any and all university bills when you get them. Not like a month later, when you kinda sorta think your tuition might finally be do.
2) I realised that *gasp* I am working my job because I like it and it is meaningful to me and is challenging, and thats worth more to me than temping somewhere for almost twice as much money. Which is good, seeing as I will spend the rest of my life working heart jobs, instead of checkbook jobs. But yea, weird.
3) Keys are a very strange mark of stature. No seriously, think about it. The more keys you have, the more ties you have to your life around you, the structure that holds the world together, in a strange sort of way. I remember first getting a house key, in like sixth grade, and what a moment that was, what a marker in the coming of age saga, to finally be considered worthy enough and responsible enough to be entrusted a key and being home by myself. And the similar gasp when I was given car keys sometime in tenth grade, keys to Evans freshman year, etc. Well, my keyring is now bulging, and it kinda frightens me with its dearth. In the past week I've added a key to the building I work in, the key to "my" office, the key to our complex, the key to our appartment (!), and of course, my own personal favorite, the key to my bike lock. I think its mostly the speed of the transition. In like, two days I go from the watercolor world of writing papers and alarm clocks and cafeterias, to swiping anything I possibly can out of the staff room at my job, keeping a check book balance, finding my checkbook, arguing with people I owe money, budgeting, grocery shopping, arguing with payroll, going to MEETINGS, buying bus passes. Weird. Just. Weird.
4) Goodwill = God. Portland Goodwill not nearly as orgasmic as Chicago, but hey. I got me kitchenwear for like five bucks and thats pretty damn nice in my book.
5) I am really friggin' young. I spend all day with people more than twice my age, and no matter what feeble attempts I make at looking or acting older than I am, I always manage to stutter, or trip over my heal, or say something stupid, or get caught running to the bathroom barefoot 'cause my shoes are too damn uncomfortable. I'm beginning to realize that my age is really only an advantage, as disconcerting as it is, because having all these people just assume I am their twenty-something daughter, well, it only gets me into more places, and given more knowledge, and included in more things in the work setting than I would otherwise. So suck it up and deal Peggy. Be that as it may, someone really needs to teach me how to comport myself in that setting, how to dress myself, how to speak on the phone with really important people. Or better yet, just not be intimidated that quickly.
6) I really like being back on my own. I really like the appartment thing. It kind of hit me, earlier in the week when I was sitting outside waiting for my bosses to arrive and open up the place, that long lost joy bumping in my chest. I've never been able to properly explain to anyone, the euphoria and exhiliration I get when I'm abroad, when my every move is soley up to me, when I am not dependent on anyone, and no one has any needs or responsibilities towards me. The grace of independence, the freedom of being in control of myself, the fear of the unknown because I am in control of myself. Realizing this, is its own small breakthrough, because I never really thought I could have that feeling back in this country, under these circumstances, I thought I'd be trapped for the duration.
7) A new coat of paint does wonders, but so does newspaper on the ground first. You live, you learn, right?
All for now. Good vibes to Sarah G, on your way to somewhere new...I am heinously heinously jelous...Three years, is a seriously long time.
Send good vibes my way next friday, when I start on my way back to the bubble for the weekend. How much havoc can one really wreak in less than 48 hours? Stay tuned.
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