Champagne Supernova

July 27, 2008

I spent last night with my lovely adopted friends.  For a change, I have had the joy of gaining a great group of people through my relationship, as opposed to people that I would rather not ever see.  After a night of walks in the rain, alcohol, and Izzard, we slept on the lumpy sofa bed and woke up to a delicious breakfast thanks to Shannon.  Altogether, a wonderful night/day.

Today’s the last Sunday in the area.  I’ve realized that I will probably say “Today’s the last ______” for the rest of the week.  I’m still very excited and looking forward to unpacking (I really do love unpacking and decorating in a new place!)

I have nothing worthwhile to say, so I figure I’ll be reflective when we’re back home.

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Times Like These

July 25, 2008

Tonight was one of those times that you sincerely want to enjoy, but almost wish you didn’t go through to spare the tears.  My mother and I have this semi-tradition of going to see movies when I’m home from school for breaks.  Tonight we went to see Wall-E (my second time), and after, she broke into tears, saying how I’m growing up too quickly, how she’ll miss me.  It’s not as if this is the first time I’ve heard this, or that I had any doubts–I am going to miss living at home as well, but at the same time, I know I must go.  This truly is what I want.  I hate having to leave my family and especially my mom; I wish I could have both at the same time.  The truth is, I have to do this part of growing up now, or risk falling into what many others do.  I don’t want to stay here forever.  I need to struggle to get by a bit, find my own footing in an apartment of my own, and make my own mistakes.  It’s good to know that despite that, I still have a mom that I can call at two in the morning when everything is falling to pieces, and a home I can come back to no matter what.

It’s difficult not to be sentimental about times like these, especially when you want to be excited.

Beyond my tears, I know there’s hundreds of great things that are going to be going on in the next few months.  My fifth–can I believe it, fifth!–semester of college is starting, I will be back to work, trying out a few new jobs on campus, and back with my friends.  The homesickness always wears off, but there’s always the empty hole of being home.  I’m hoping that having someone from home (Zach) with me will ease the pain, but I know that nothing compares to family.  This year I hope they can visit as often as they’d like to but don’t always have the chance.

In the back of my head, there are a thousand thoughts that keep streaming.  I wonder if I’m making the right choices, if I’m truly going to be okay, and if this is really what I want.  I’m nearly positive it is; the second guessing is purely a side-effect of all the emotion that is being pumped into it all.  One good cry session this week should get me past it… I hope.

… are among the things we have left to purchase for the new place. So, you know, if you’re feeling generous, I’d be more than willing to give out my address if it meant the delivery of a shiny new appliance.

Today was as typical of a day that it could possibly be. After waking up, I was set to sweep, do laundry, and dust the house. Once we had a hefty breakfast of pancakes a la Zachary, the day was set to begin. It was the normal family thing, plus a small gathering tonight with his family.

Family is a concept that has always been a bit mixed for me. In my life, family has typically consisted just of my immediate family (mother, brother, and sister) since my father was out of the picture during most of my childhood. When I was much younger, I lived between my aunts’ homes while my brother was in the hospital. Despite the closeness that we had during my childhood, the relationships broke and now, I barely speak to anyone in my family. For me, family meant friends, and their families blended with my mom and siblings. As an adult, I have grown to love the mixed relationships I get to indulge in as part of a relationship. Being a “girlfriend” also means gaining two sets of grandparents, a slew of aunts, uncles, and cousins, and another immediate family that is about equal to my own. I love the immense amount of excitement that comes from being around someone else’s family–especially when they embrace you. It’s easily one of my top ten reasons for being in a relationship. In a world where family is nearly forgotten, I have found a reason to let it thrive.

In the next few days I am truly going to begin the daunting task of packing the last few items up that have yet to be jammed into brown boxes… what a joy it will be.

Hey there, Mr. Blue

July 21, 2008


Back at previously mentioned library. Zach has some grown up stuff to do (Grad school paper) and I had work. The last few days are upon us here in NEPA, and after a drive through my old hometown this morning and a few conversations lately, I think it’s safe to say I’m ready.

This morning I had to go to the the dentist. Unlike most people, I eagerly anticipate my appointments; for me, the dentist means clean teeth, a seemingly whiter smile (even if that is just in my head) and a brand new toothbrush, ready for a new zip code. One thing that resonated today, however, was a story I happened to overhear while I waited for my sister to be finished with her appointment.

A mother with two younger girls (probably about 12 and 5) was telling the receptionist about her recent family vacation in Louisiana. While the girls were excited to share details–it was longggg, they offered up–it was what came after that struck me. The mother said in the days following their return home, she learned that her uncle had been shot point blank after an argument over a car. From what I was able to piece together, it seemed as though someone was attempting to hijack the car, he argued, and for his attempt at keeping his car, lost his life. The girls then shared their feelings (he didn’t look like uncle so-and-so, he had a mark on his face where the bullet came out) and I sat there, thinking. On the ride home, my sister (who is about to turn 16) might have summed it up as basically as possible: “If the world is this bad now, how can I ever have kids?” While I am one who usually tries to look for the good in all people, and live with an attitude that lives for the hear and now, I can somewhat understand her logic. With the mentality that the gun is mightier than words and violence is an answer, it’s hard to imagine bringing a child into it all. With the recent birth of a child to a friend of Zach and our visit, you can’t help but think about a child of your own. As we stood looking at him, a thousand thoughts raced through my mind–his first bruised knee, his first family outing, his first girlfriend, his first fight… and then you wonder what the world he lives in will be like. In 19 years, when he’s facing life with the same number of years as I am now, I can’t imagine what type of world he will be a part of. I hope for the best, but often times, it’s difficult to imagine the problems being reversed.

I remember a time when you didn’t have to worry about the cost of gas, how food was going to be put on the table, where the tuition money was coming from, what part of town was safe to walk in after dark–or safe to walk in at all. I think that might have just been childhood, or maybe, there really was a time when it was a bit more simple than it is now. I think the former of the two might be the case, sadly. It’s the learning to adjust to the problems of the world and making it the best it can be in the aspects I personally have control over. While those may not be many, it’s safe to say that it’s enough. I have food to eat, a chance at education, and loved ones around me. While others may not be as lucky, I just hope that when it comes my turn to have a family, the same opportunities might still be within reach.

I am writing from small town library, which, unlike my home, has air conditioning.  I decided to venture down from the mountain for the afternoon to spend some time wandering around my hometown.  I think I’m going to drop some clothing off at the Senior Center, stop by my mom’s office, and just wander.

The sense of nostalgia that strikes you before you move from an area is somewhat unnerving.  In the past, I have found myself not really enjoying the town I currently live in; I moved a short four years ago.  Now, with a permenant move out of the area, I find myself trying to latch onto a few last memories.  Several days ago, Zach mentioned the feeling he had as we packed up the last of his belongings from his old apartment.  I didn’t quite understand, but in the last few days, I have definitely begun to develop my own case of growing up blues.  I’m not quite upset, per se, but instead, remembering the times that I had there, or the nights spent here, or the memory of hanging out there with so-and-so.  It’s not leaving the place behind so much as it’s moving on from a time in your life that you can’t get back anymore.  This is the first time that I’m moving away from my family (besides college) and it’s different to see the changes that have taken place since the initial decision was made.

Which leads me to people who simply never leave this town.  Those that were born here, grew up here, decided to stick around, have a few kids of their own, and now love to write into the local paper about the problems that plague this place.  While I personally think that maybe, just maybe, there’s something somewhat magical about raising your kids in the place you yourself grew up, I honestly don’t think it overrides the idea that if you weren’t happy with a place as a kid, chances are, you won’t be as an adult.  Hence why I’m moving.  I realize that this is a dead-end town, perfect for retirement perhaps, but not for a budding writer or 20-something looking for a job in the communications field.  Most of the communication here can be done with a colloquial phrase that you wouldn’t understand if from the next town over.  I suppose there’s a comfort about staying in one place, but for me, the idea of movement and fluidity takes over.  I’m looking to absorb as much as I possibly can during my time on earth, even if it means making the sacrifices necessary to pay rent when I could instead be living for free in my parents’ home.  Moving out simply translates into growing up for me, even if it’s slightly premature.

So with these last two weeks ahead of me, I plan to eat as much frozen yogurt from local drive-in establishments, rent many movies, enjoy a cup of tea or two at the coffee shop that made me feel like I was cool in high school, hopefully attend the $4 theatre at least one more time, swing by the scenic overlook one evening for a hike, and say goodbye to the town that got me through high school.  It’s the least I could do.

In absence

July 17, 2008

Despite having my new .Mac account, I still am without work.  It is most likely because I just can’t figure out where Dr. Deshpande hid the files, but I will not be working until I receive an email guiding me through the new software.

Today I realized that I can no longer force my siblings into the type of relationship I would like to have with them.  While my sister and I still occasionally have our qualms, we have become more like friends than siblings who simply coexist in the same house.  Alternately, my brother has seem to have lost any desire to be involved in my life.  When posed with a question about his college class, his job, or just what he’s up to for the weekend, I usually get a blunt yes or no, or a response in a tone that you’d only use with someone who just offended you in some way.  I have made honest attempts to get closer with both of them this summer since I’m moving out, but it has only been half successful.  I try to remember that time in my life (only 3 years ago) but still cannot remember being so angry with everyone.  My mom often tries to console me, saying it’s because his girlfriend is away, or that he’s just not like Janelle and myself–not as social.  Either way, it upsets me to think that he always seems to be pushing me away.

I have spent countless hours trying to figure out what could be packed up in this house that hasn’t already been.  With two weeks left to go, I feel that I could theoretically begin to put my belongings into boxes, but there are many things that just can’t be put away until moving day is closer.  I  have this abundance of time with nothing to fill it, when I know in two weeks my life will be  more hectic than it has been in months.  The very thought of the rush kind of makes me want to pack everything this very second, but I’d be staring at blank walls for too many nights.

This fall I have 22 credits–six classes and a lab.  I’m becoming a bit nervous; last semester I had six and there were times that I felt entirely overwhelmed.  I am hoping that the art classes don’t seem like work (instead something I can truly enjoy) and that I am able to push through my Gen Ed science course this fall.  I know that academically this will be my toughest semester so far, if not in the entire four years.

Here we go again…

July 16, 2008

I cannot even try to imagine how many times I have tried this.  You know, it’s really easy to simply sign up for a blog, write for a few days, then get wrapped up in the day-to-day happenings that you forget.  What’s even better is when you stumble upon it years later and realize that the problems weren’t that bad (at least in comparison to what you are dealing with now) and that even though your heart was broken, you really were able to move on, just like everyone said you would.

Now, at this turning point in my life, I realized that maybe it would be best to start again, and give an honest effort at maintaining.  I can’t make any promises, but I will try to keep up with this.  Why it may not always be insightful, or even witty, it will be a place for me to recollect and just write.  Simply write.

My move is coming up quickly.  In two weeks, Zach and I will be packing the last of our things and making arrangements for our move to the Philadelphia ‘burbs.  When I get a chance, I sit back and think about the changes that have taken place in our relationship since I moved here five years ago.  While he’s always been one of my best friends, he’s now my roommate.  Starting the last half of my college career is something else that keeps me on edge.  While others have gone on and graduated, I still feel–at times–that I really am still younger than I seem to be on paper.  While college is almost a memory, I still have plenty ahead of me.  Graduate school still looms in the not-so-distant future and beyond my academics, a hefty personal life is slowly picking up speed.  I can honestly say that there’s nothing in this world that could make me happier right now.