At What Point Do I . . .

Realize he's not going to call?
Stop caring that he's abandoned me emotionally, yet again?
Deal with the fact that this may be unforgivable?
Quit wanting his opinion?
Not miss him?
Stop kicking myself for not holding grudges?
Stop thinking about our "future"?
Stop turning to him for emotional support?
Come to terms with him not being the man I thought he was/is?
Stop feeling foolish?
Stop loving him?

It's been too long since I've ranted about Tall Blond Biochemists, ultimately.

Observations 3.1, 3.2, 3.3

My Office
Two Days of Work Left
Fall Faculty Meeting in Full Swing
Full of Greek Food
12:11 pm
Wednesday, August 31, 2005


Observation 3.1

Jesse and I had a conversation that went something like this yesterday as we walked home from the #6 stop.

"My head's getting loud. Goddamnnit. Maybe I'll eat 64 Tylonol when I get home."
"Loud? What do you mean?"
"Well, you know how everyone has an internal dialogue?"
"You mean, monologue?"
"You see, that's my point exactly."

I talk to myself, in my head, all the time. I carry on a non-stop conversation, with myself pretty much constantly. And I find it soothing.

Most mornings I chit-chat to myself about how beautiful Hyde Park is, or how lucky I am to be alive. There's always one side declaring, pontificating, exclaiming, while the other listens, contemplates, rearranges.

Sometimes I get very upset with myself, and then things get loud. This is a problem. It started to happened yesterday, but instead of flipping my shit, I got a headache, and felt light-headed, spacey, and a bit nauseous. It seems as if my head was trying to do one thing and the drugs said no. Odd.

Also odd to think that most people have a monologue with them all the time. Don't they need someone to talk to? Doesn't it get lonely? I would much rather talk with myself, then at myself, or at no one at all.

Observation 3.2

Every bus driver has their own unique system of passing out transfer cards. Some keep them in their pockets, some on the window sill, some have a stack with their time chart. How long did it take them to figure out that this system, the one that was used on me this morning is the most quality system?

Observation 3.3

When my internal dialogue is at it's best, it tends to be witty banter, with a soothing cadence and a listing lilt. I think that that's the appeal of France: the French language, especially when it's not in the forefront of my mind sounds exactly like the best form of company I give myself on occassion.

Alii doesn't hallucinate in Mongolia, maybe I'm less odd in France.

As for Hippie Fest, I'll keep the highlights coming over the next few days.


Top 5 Saying from Hippie Fest

5. God Bless Victor Wooten.
4. Wake Up Hippies!
3. I haven't looked over there in a long time!
2. This is going to work out really well for me.
1. The best way to get rid of things is to swallow.

5. The phrase of praise when things just got too good to be believed.
4. Mofro took to the stage Saturday morning extolling the Hippies to get out of bed and start their day. It was pretty funny. We were within sight of the main stage.
3. Igor, when we released his inner 8 year old girl, when we collapsed into a silly heap on the side of the hill. The we ate the woods, found Nevada, and collapsed into a silly heap all over again.
2. Katherine, moments before she ate a hard boiled egg, covered in Nutella. Yea, she swore it was tasty. The next day, she realized our problem with the whole eating combination, namely that of egg and Nutella are not meant to go together. Eww.
1. I'm sitting there with Red Fury on my tongue when Alii hands me a tasty fungal snack. Tasty, yet gross, I'm having difficulty finishing, so Igor offers his oh so candid advice.

God Bless Victor Wooten

Observation II

This taking medication thing is going to be harder then I think it is.

The Blue Pills Look Familiar

At the Office
Full of Pasta Salad
Damn My Feet Hurt
3:11 pm
Thursday, August 25, 2005

The Blue Pills Look Familiar

Today was the ever dreaded, always need Psychiatric Evaluation. I meet with the world's most sterotypical mental health doctor ever: small boned, well dressed in muted tones, nice shoes, trendy glasses, calming voice, direct answers. And, I guess that works for him because I was more honest then I've ever been.

For the first part of the session, he repeatedly said things like, "Tell me about your 'manic' episodes. I'm going to shy away from diagnosing that right off." "So, these 'panic attacks' are different from the 'manic episdoes how exactly?"

An hour later, he's telling me about Bi-Polar disorder, putting me one meds again and telling me to get used to the idea that I may have to medicate myself for the rest of my life. I guess I'm a pretty convincing crazy lady.

So, he says he'll give me a sample pack of the same meds I used to take, and says, "I don't think I'll put you on lithium. At least not yet." So, while he goes to retrieve these pharmacutical wonders, I wait in the waiting room. Then in struts Dr. Barrier, brandishing this medication. He comes over, and explains how to take them, because obviously I'm illiterate, and says, "Stop when you get to the Blue Pills. Those look familiar don't they?" Smile. Shake my hand. Leave. Meanwhile, I'm being eyed by the others in the waiting room.

I burst forth from the SCRC and almost scream. But I didn't because they put you on lithium for things like that.

Observation I

I feel I've been a bit trite here lately. I'm not sure the root cause, but the branches show pretty under nourished fruit. Flippant, cursory, partially invested.

That will stop now.

I Live for This Shit

Animal Crackers Taste Like Happy
Work
Lunch soon. . .
11:13 am
Tuesday, August 23, 2005
38 Days Till Paris

I Life for This Shit

As the weekend quickly approaches, I am once again struck by how fundamental music is to my well being. Playing it, singing it, listening to it, creating it, jamming out to it, teaching it. All of these things and so much more impact my life in a multitude of ways each day, creating my soundtrack.

Why do I go on? Hippie Fest is this weekend. Three days of camping, in the woods, with friends, and funky ass jams. Am I excited?

Last night, we're all chillin' on Jesse's veranda, and I was sooSOOSSOSSooo happy, I rocked back and forth, heart racing ready ready ready. Bring it on. I live for this shit. There is nothing more profound, real, true, trascendent, powerful, uplifting, clarifying, amazing then festivus.

I know it won't be Bonnaroo -- nothing ever will be. But there will be gnomes this time, and sillyness, and no little bitches who can't hang. Oh hooray for Krunchie Hippies.

Other then that, life is swell. The four day party has ended, alas. No prob though. "Star Wars" in Grant Park tonight with Jesse? "Anyone Can Whistle" with Pattie LeBelle!! and JC on Thursday.

Good Times

Work
Not a whole hell of a lot going on
11:08 am
Monday, August 22, 2005

Good Times

This past week and weekend have been great. So fun that I've lost the sense of when I did what, or where but the fact remains: fun was had.

This morning I had another Good Times experience, in a manner of speaking. I finally faced the fear and put myself back in therapy. Oh so scary. As Eric so candidly pointed out, we do have one of the best counseling centers/systems because of, well the fucked-upness that this school fosters. But that's a double edged sword. I don't know anyone directly to whom this has happened, but it's well know that the Student Counseling Center (Scc) can fuck with your shit. Declare you mentally unfit, bar your ability to go to class, force meds on you, keep in therapy when you feel you're done, etc etc. Am I worried about these things? Yes, most definately. Am I hoping that the good out weighs the bad? Yes.

The intake session today went well. I met with the man who is now my therapist and told him a little about my head. He thinks I just have a pretty serious anxiety disorder, but he isn't sure about the mania/bi-polar. In the same breath reminding me that he's a psychologist, not a psyciatrist. So, I'm meetting with a psychiatrist on Thursday for a meds evaluation. Good times?

As Alii and I have talked about many times before: we're never going to go through all this initial bullshit when we're actually flipping our shit. All I can do is set this up now, start developing a reltionship with John, and have that resource there next time I feel the planet slip.

Since I am so superly okay right now, I feel that I didn't do my head justice explaining it. How do you tell someone that the edges of my world rattle and glow red and yellow sometimes? How do you tell them about uncontrollable figeting, racing thoughts, then hours of comatose? Especially someone you just met, at 8:00 o'clock in the goddamn AM? Oh, and it's only Monday.

But all's well and good. I'm going to sushi tonight with a herd of people to celebrate Alii and Katherine's triumphant return from the NC. Then Thursday, Jeremy and I are taking in some theater, possibly a movie in the park Tuesday. Hippie Fest this weekend. Hooray! Good times indeed.

Alive and Well

The Smoking room
Drinking Wine
Chillaxing. heheh
Kittens!
Lauren's
12:46 am
Saturday, August 20, 2005

Alive and Well

I don't have the strength, will or desire to go into all the things that I've done this past week. Let it surmise to say it was fantastic. I'll say more later.

To sum the recent: my car got broken into last night while I was seeing the DMB cover band (which was SOO fun. Damn, we were SOO cool.)but all they stole was my cell phone.

Which is pain in the ass. Mom's here, and I'm dealing with it tomorrow. Anywho. Yea.

I've realized several things. I've managed to meet some fantastic people this week. I totally win. I'm so happy to be having fun with different groups of people. Don't get me wrong: I love my other friends, but these friend rock.

Not having a cell phone makes me a lot more a victim to the whims of the universe. So, be assured that yes, I'm okay, but I can't really confirm that. All is well.

It's absurd how addicted to cell phones this universe has become. What did we do before we were able to call each other every 10 seconds to ask what's taking you so long to _______. I don't know any phone numbers. I think I'll survive.

Generally I get on here with a purpose, plan, or at least general idea where I'm going. Now, none. I have much to say, but I'm to chill to say it now.

I wish you all the best of weekends. Be safe, don't die.

Lot O' Laurens

Worky McWork
About to go to Lunch
So good!
Clean! Healthy! Happy!
12:02 pm
Wednesday, August 17, 2005

Lots O' Laurens

There are a lot of Lauren's in my life, I've raelized. And they're all awesome and unique in their own way. Yet, there's a spark, a gaity that's in all of them. Pretty super to think about how my life's been effected by Laurens

The Original LP
My first friend @ Lee. And that time she scared herself with her own hand! Shoe polishing our cars, driving to Houston, getting lost in The Woods (Excuse me, do you know how to get to the Cynthia Mitchell Pavillion? Oh sure, it's right off of Spring Dale Glen Trail Forest Park Place Corner Lane Way Stream Hill Nut Street Avenue Boulevard. Court. Right next to the Indian Spring Village of Dhoom!) So many good times, so many belly laughs. No where have I ever found someone who has so much Faith, and in whom I have so much faith because of that. Lover of life, holder of big dream. LP, you inspire me.

Slutty Lauren
What can I say? While she may be kinda slutty, she has a love of life that's infectious. Can I ever forgive her for fucking with one of the few Good Men I know, probably not. But, damn did we have fun. "Bathtub Gin" at the top of our lungs, watching the thunderstorm roll in, outside my house because I was too altered to open the front door, having convinced myself that the keys didn't work. Good times. I mean, she's friends with a guy who will look you straght in the face and say, "Call me Fizzle." How can that be wrong?

Lauren F.
I won't pretend that I know her well, but what I do know is pretty sweet. Open, warm hearted, zeasty, full of life. Caring, considerate, a good listener. She's coming with me to see Trippin' Billies tomorow, and she got stuck in Jimmie's with Alii and I last Thursday, and you gotta love that. She a true, honest individual living her life the best she knows how. I respect that.

Lauren S.
The newest Lauren is pretty fantastic. She came over last night and we talked, and chilled, and crafted, and it was super. She's eager: about life, about friends, and everything. Enthusiastic, without being annoying or overwhelming, with a touch of self-doubt. She reminds me of me, or of how I hope to be sometimes. I'm glad to know her, and glad that she's going to Paris with me, glad we're going to TB tomorrow too. She offered to help me clean my apartment for when my mom gets her, so I have to like her. Sure, there's some weirdness (as she used to sleep with Igor? Still is?) but that's ultimately their business, not mine. Might as well be friends. She's crazy, zany, and tons of fun. Oh, Paris is going to be ridiculous, I can feel it know. Good to know this new Lauren.

Yea, so I'm blessed with Laurens. Hooray for me.

As I Got Ready this Morning, II

Things I thought of:

damn i need a new toothbrush
where are my shoes?
why WHY is there STILL sand in my bed?
why do spiders live between window panes?
maybe buying a spider vac wouldn't be that stupid
oh, wait, yea it is
what if I just didn't come to work
shaving
maybe i could live alone
people who don't shave
people who don't shave, and get blobs of deoderent stuck in their EWWW
chocolate croissants
coffee
piles of books
is the other intern "better" then me?
Alii and NC
Alii and Katherine dancing at my wedding
Wedding?!?! Wedding?
Katherine: Chocolate covered strawberries? Why didn't you marry this man?
Me: I sure as hell tried.
Ouch.
bed bed bed
alone in bed
not alone in bed
is he still sleeping with her?
if so, what the fuck's up with that?
does she care?
should i care?
do I care?
no.
where's the bowl?
does that make me a slut?
but goddamnit that was a lovely date
leave it alone valdez
children
ring tailed lemurs
jeremy cohan
i need to clean the mirrors
where'd I park my car?
when I wander around looking for my car do other people know that i'm wandering around aimlessly?
damn i look good?
wine whine wine
hope LP's doing okay (See! I thought of you!)
maybe i'll see the Cute Commute Guy today
how dirty it feels to flirt with only your eyes on the train
god bless clint redfern
i need to learn to stir fry
bowl
i miss my daddy
I should talk to Eric
when will these damned bruises go away
oh but they were worth it
maybe i'll go swimming tonight
elephants in the bedroom
katherine eating kittens for breakfast
sunglasses, check.
what about the voices in my head I don't listen to
do they deserve to be heard?

Stuff and Things

Lunch Breaks = Awesome
Work
Eating a Cookie
1:10 pm
Monday, August 15, 2005

Stuff and Things

This was a good weekend. A great, stupendous, feather pillow filled with giggles of a good weekend. Right up there with mac n cheese, toaster strudel, daisies, shoe sales, and honking geese.

Why you may ask? The absolutely right leve of Stuff and Things.

Let me elabomarate.

Friday
Ravinia. Oh the glory that is Ravinia! They were showing "The Wizard of Oz," while the CSO played the music. Ingenious! Consquently, there were 6,403 small, adorable children running around in costume . Yes, it was so cute I almost vomited. Jeremy went with Alii and I, and cuddled with me, so all's was peaceful in my world. I feel asleep curled up between two of my top 10 favorite people, in the damp grass, with the sounds of Judy Garland and Children in my ears. It was supurb.

I realized that since I was very, very small, I've been sleeping through the last third of that movie. It went something like this, "Oh, I love this song! Oh, I love this song! Oh, this one is fantastic. Wait, now they're out of the Emerald City. That's no fun: I should take a nap." Dad says that I tune out when they get to the real life part about taking care of responsibilities. I don't think he's right, exactly but I can't find where he's exactly wrong.

Afterwards, I went Lauren S.'s birthday bash. Good times my friends. It was the first time in a long time that I didn't get trashed at a large social event of that kind. Was it because of the strange level of anxiety I felt, or the lack of alcohol, I don't know. Igor claimed me for Saturday night to do "stuff and things."

I told Dad about doing "Stuff and Things" and he said that he'd once asked that girl to do the very same thing. He had a super big crush on this girl when he was a sophomore in high school, and couldn't think of anything to do. So, he asked her to do ya know, stuff and, uhh. . things. What did they do? They went to the park, and made kites and flew them. Yea, my dad is a Super Pimp. That must be where I get it form. Turn out he still knows this women: she married another mutual friend from high school. He saw her recently at Tio Joe's funeral, and she said she remembered the day of Stuff and Things. It was one of the best dates she'd ever been on. Yea, big pimpin'.

Saturday
Not a goddamn thing. I woke up early to talk to LP about The Jerk. She was bamboozled, absolutely bamboozled, and it pains my heart. I told her I'd come to Texas and KillkillkillKILL but she said I'm too pretty to go to jail.

I decided to take a Mental Health Day and not go to Indiana for training. You know what I've been too, it's a lot of county fairs. I don't think I need to go to another one. It had been too long since I'd done absolutely nothing on a Saturday. And it was fantastic beyond belief.

I drank coffee with Alii, ate an entire coffee cake, and we watched West Wing. Good times. Katherine and her are going to North Caroline this week to visit the Duke Primate Center. Hooray for filming monkey chewing frequency, I suppose. They left at 3:00, and I continued my stretch of not doing a damn thing. I went and visited The Man, stopped at the bank, and then bought myself some flowers. I win.

Then came the several hours of a glass of wine, a bowl, young adult fiction/fantasy, and Ray Charles. Beautiful. I dozed in the papazaan chair, I got mildly tipsy. Then, it was time to do Stuff and Things.

This turned out to be dinner with Igor at the Snail, and a hooka and kittens for dessert. Tasty. Around 11:00, we got restless.

"Well, we could drive to see the stars."
"I've been way out west, past O'Hare. You can't see them."
"Of course not silly, you have to go south. To Indiana."
"Do you know how to get there?"
"Yes, kinda. Do you have change for the tolls?"
"No, but we can get that when we stop and get beer."

And we were off. Took us a little longer then I thougth it would, being that I have little sense of time, or time/space corralations. After we got lost in the boonies, after we passed 43 seperate strip joints in the middle of nowhere, each with a distinctly horrible name, after getting lost, after dead ends, after on and off on and off the highway, we made it. To the exact same place Alii and I went for the Fourth.

Hooray! Then there were stars, and running in the waves, fending of the cold via Igor, wrenching my knee, kisses, fear of getting towed, and moonlight.

Sunday meant sleeping till 1:00, then Igor made a blingtastic omelette. After his eventual departure, I indulged in six hours of West Wing. (Okay, I'm a big fat loser. Sue me.)

Oh, what a blissful existance I lead sometimes. Hooray for possessing the mental clarity to appreciate it all. It wasn't only the fulfilling things I did this weekend, but the things I didn't do. The sitting, hanging out. Cleaning, resting, waiting, thinking. That's what my head needed.

In other news, I did it. I called the Student Counseling Center today. Appointment made. Sanity here I come? At what point do I tell my parents about this wonderful chemical imbalance I call my life? What if they fuck me over? What if they claim I'm not crazy and I'm stuck with the realization that no matter how fucked up things get I can't turn to the mental health profession? Ouch. Here's to having faith.

Well, it's Thursday

A-Level
Comforting to Be Back
Kinda Drunk
5:33 pm
Thursday, August 11, 2005

Well, it's Thursday

I took today off of work, kinda, to work on an independent research paper. Then instead, Alii and I went to Jimmy's for lunch, and three pitchers of Sam Adams later, I'm not only drunk, but drunk and lonely.

Here I sit in the library, happily spending my time learning the effect of education in music on the rest of a child's educatioon. Good times, right? Only sad part being that when I'm done, there's no one to go home to talk to it about.

Alii and I spent last night driving up and down lakeshore, drinking, and discussing various life issues. It was pretty fantastic, but didn't solve anything ultimately. She promises I'm not going to be fucked (hyperbolically speaking, of course) but it doesn't feel that way.

I always forget how I don't do casual sex. It makes all the lies my mother told me about myself come true.

But what do you do, honestly? Forsake physical comfort? Stop hoping that the other person will realize how awesome I am and begin to forsake the others? Or conversely, hold out for someone so far away? Where is that delicate line to be walked, and how do I learn to have better balance upon it?

It's great to have my best friend back, but I hate sleeping alone.

Swapped Crazy for Kookie

Work
2:21 pm
Wednesday, August 10, 2005

Swapped Crazy for Kookie

I'm do a little better now. My grasp is still tenuous, and it's taking conscious effort to maintain a semblance of sanity at the moment, but no more dramatic manic episodes. Hooray

And now, I'm just tired.

Tired of:
not sleeping
sleeping alone
noises in my head
the heat
being in this office
Summer Links training sessions
Talking about social issues
being alone

Alii doesn't turn to me for emotional support anymore; she has Katherine. Don't get me wrong: I'm so completely happy for her. Katherine is amazing, and of course that's who she should turn to. Alii deserves nothing less.

But at the same time, where does that leave me? I don't feel comfortable talking to her anymore, as she doesn't talk to me. Is that wrong? Am I being a selfish bitch? probably, but I miss my best friend. I miss the days when one of us would flip our shit, while the other makes sure the world keeps spinning, keeping us safe. Now, Alii goes to Katherine, and I huddle alone on a damp edge of the picnic blanket, sobbing as Beethoven crashes aound me, mimicing the emotional turmoil in my head. It was nice to be crazy with someone else, while now she latches on to Katherine's emotional stability. Not that I blame her, it just leaves me completely unbound.

But what is a body to do? Just keep swimming, swimming, swimming. Oh show me the way to the next whiskey bar, oh don't ask why, oh don't ask why. See what I mean about the Kookie?

Appropriate? We Shall See

I Am Much Too Alone in This World, Yet Not Alone


I am much too alone in this world, yet no alone enough
to truly consecrate the hour.
I am much too small in this world, yet no small enough
to be to you just object and thing,
dark and smart.
I want my free will and want it accompanying
the path which leads to action;
and want during times that beg questions,
where something is up,
to be among those in the know,
or else be alone.

I want to mirror your image to its fullest perfection,
never be blind or too old
to uphold your weighty wavering reflection.
I want to unfold.
Nowhere I wish to stay crooked, bent;
for there I would be dishonest, untrue.
I want my conscience to be
true before you;
want to describe myself like a picture I observed
for a long time, one close up,
like a new word I learned and embraced,
like the everyday jug,
like my mother's face,
like a ship that carried me along
through the deadliest storm.

Rainer Maria Rilke

Bad Head, Good Head

Office
Coffee!!
4:08 pm
Monday, August 8, 2005
Happy Birthday Daddy

Bad Head, Good Head

I flipped my shit, slowly, on Friday. I'm talking full out, had to go home, on the floor the living room floor shaking, curled in the fetal position. No, don't you dare touch me, I will scream. Couldn't park the car, hearing things, jumpy, panic-stricken, babbling. Yea, it was bad.

Then we went to Ravinia, and I drank a lot. And it was good. Brahms has an uncanny power over me, it turns out. Supreme.

You know what's great at making the crazy subside? Sex. Lots and lots of amazing, fantastic Oh-My-God-How'd-You-Do-That-DON'T-STOP sex. Turns that's a major component of what keeps me stable.

But, of course, a lady never tells. If you're lucky, I might post pictures of the unbelievable bruises I received in the process. I just told everyone my girlfriend beats me.

Ps. Igor gives good head.

Great America?

Work
Bored
2:39 pm
Thursday, August 3, 2005

Great America?

Yesterday, the Summer Links Crew went to Six Flags Great America. I had more fun then I originally anticipated. I entered the situation realizing that I'm not super duper good friends with any of these people, no one with whom I had planned to spend the day with. I was a little worried about this, I won't lie. So, I brought a book and planned on spending the majority of the day at Hurricane Harbor, sunning, alone if necessary. Good times, right?

But I learned something: I may not be best friends with another Linker, but I'm a part of a group, a family you could say. I hung out with many different people, in several combinations, depending on amusement park preferences. And all of it was fun. I got to know some people better then I knew them before, while also beginning relationships with others.

There was much more singing and dancing then I anticipated, and as we all know, that means I'm going to enjoy myself greatly. David, the director, wanted some of us to record a kareokee CD so that everyone can make fun of us for years to come. I was drafted, and the hilarity ensued. There were five of us, most of us possessing musical know-how. I think our downfall came from choosing to sing a Backstreet Boys song, "I Want it That Way." It was pretty special.

The top moment though was when we were finished, leaving the store, and we heard ourselves. On the intercom, outside the store. Loudly. So, of course, we jamm out to our bad-ass selves, dancing, arms waving, freaking out in the middle of Great America. Dana yells, "I LOVE YOU GUYS!" like a true fan. The we busted out Every Parade Dance You've Ever Seen, in unison. Oh hooray for being ridiculous in public, surrounded by over weight mid-western families who look on, confused, sure they've missed something important.

The water park was fun as well. It was partially a self-esteem booster, and part reality check. It was so nice to not be in middle school again. I started thinking about going to water parks when I was younger, barely post-pubescent. Petrified of my own body, convinced I looked so fat/gross/stupid/unstylish in my swimsuit, yet spending all my energy on either a) getting a stupendous tan to make up for the fat or b) trying to get stupid teenage boys to notice said tan.

This time, we just had fun. We rode rides, we danced and sang in line. I busted out some balance/stretching moves from cheerleading, and the people in line behind us,not in my group clapped. Weird. Jamil had never been to a water park before, and he can't swim. At first he was hesitant about the whole water slide thing.

After one ride, he was hooked.

So, now he's excited, ecstatic about this new joy: WATER!! He's laughing, jumping, running to the next ride, freaking out. And of course, I am too.

It was pretty crazy. Me and him finish the second slide, and just set off towards the kids castle. It's a four/five story tower structure, based on a pirate ship. There's water coming out everywhere: guns, streams, jet, buckets, sprays, splashes. There's platforms, levels, stairs, slides, and water, water, water. It's standing in 2 feet of water, with more just splashing, dripping, spewing, kids jumping, yelling, laughing. So, here come Jamil and I, completely uncontained, running mad-dash, helter skelter through the thing. It was blissful.

Today at work, I got to give away pianos. I called students families' who were recommended by their teachers, and I gave them pianos. The joy in their voices! It was amazing. I heard the mother's tear up, so proud, thankful that their children are going to have an even greater opportunity to advance themselves thanks to Merit, and thanks to music. Damn I love my job. I think I'm going to be taking a couple of days off of work soon to write a research paper for Merit. It should be good times. It's been two longs since I've lost a large chunk of my time to the Reg.

Hooray for being an adult, kinda. Hooray for giving away pianos. Hooray for being a part of a group. Hooray.

In sadder news, my Tio Joe died this week. I knew him, and Tia Rica well when I was younger -- I have some pretty funny memories of my family playing Bingo at their house, and Tia Rica dancing. She died a few years back, and I think Tio Joe is happier with her now, then he was here. I thought about him a lot, and I think he'd be proud of me, was proud me, is proud of me. It's made me think of my Dad's mortality, which is something I never, ever want to face. I wish I could be in Texas with my family, supporting them, loving them right now. I do all that from here, but it's a little less apparent.

God Bless Tio Joe, may be rest in peace.

Old Friends, New Problems

My Office
About to have Yet Another Meeting
1:22 pm
Tuesday, August 1, 2005

Old Friends, New Problems

I love Lauren. I feel like we have grown apart a bit this summer, what with her being in New York, me in Chicago, and both being so fantastically fabulous all the time, we haven't had much time to talk. I called her last week and we caught up. Oh the joy and peace in friendships that don't hold time or distance against each other. We hadn't talked in months, but no one could tell.

She called me this morning, kinda freaking out, and I did my best to offer advice, solace, a listening ear, a proverbial shoulder. And I was flattered. I didn't think that I would be the person that she would call in such a situation. Me? You're asking me for relationship advice? Or more aptly, reaching out for someone who can help you make sense of it all, and I'm the one your went with?

Thank you for having that much faith in my abilities, life experiences and for thinking that I'll be able to help. Have some faith in him too, kiddo.

After that eventful, advice laden commute to work today, I was also thankful for one more aspect of it: companionship.

I'm lonely. Okay, point taken. I'm also having to reevaluated my ideas of love. I spent a large portion of Sunday night talking about all this, and that, and Tall Blond Biochemists with Alii on Friday. While that was a conversation that I greatly needed, and am immensely grateful for, I still felt alone. As if no one has ever been as lonely as I -- knowing I'm self-centered to feel that way.

So, when Lauren called to say someone else didn't call, I was thankful that the universe decided to show me that I'm not alone, while giving me the chance to say thing that I too need to hear. I almost feel as if, after Lauren and I not talking for so long, then coming together over a mutual grievance, we've taken a larger step towards cementing our friendship against the changes of time. And that's conforting.

Maybe neither of us will ever get the calls we're waiting for. Maybe we've both been huge, horrible judges in character. Maybe we've both been lied to this entire time. Maybe our hearts were exposed fresh, new, with a courage that we fought so hard to achieve, only to be shunned by those who tenderness we most expressly asked for. But at least if that is the case, (which I objectively don't think it is, especially for Lauren) we can at least always call each other.