Ok folks, here’s the deal.
I’m going to re-vamp this puppy.
*I no longer can afford to buy weekly bottles of wine to dabble one about. (But if one comes up, I’ll talk🙂 )
*My life has changed. Sort of. I mean I’m still a student. But I’m a graduate student. And living in New York.
Not the city.
*I have a redonkulous amount of free time. I’ve been a bum for the past 10 hours and I don’t feel bad about it. Its glorious.
Those are my reasons. If I write them down and post them. This is more likely to get done.
Even if at the moment I’m talking to a near invisible audience, perhaps this will serve as a better communication form for all you lovely people I love but live in (litterly) everywhere else in the country.
K, ttyl. Woo.
This is how I’m processing life right now, excesive quote hunting.
I always liked the story of Noah’s Ark and the idea of starting anew by rescuing the things you like and leaving the rest behind.
Caring about others, running the risk of feeling, and leaving an impact on people, brings happiness.
It often happens that when a person possesses a particular ability to an extraordinary degree, nature makes up for it by leaving him or her incompetent in every other department.
Depth of friendship does not depend on length of acquaintance.
Tis the privilege of friendship to talk nonsense, and have her nonsense respected.
All the art of living lies in a fine mingling of letting go and holding on.
Not a shred of evidence exists in favor of the idea that life is serious.
The price of anything is the amount of life you exchange for it.
~Henry David Thoreau
Sorry I disapeared into the mountains.
So, I’ve spent the past two months in the redwoods, up a mountain, in California, on the same camp with this crazy bunch of people.
This is, without peer, the best group of people I’ve ever worked with. Its hard to put 40 people together and make one big cohesive group, but within the first week that’s what we were and it grew from there. Sure, there were the dramas, but they seemed minor compared to the bonded energy flying everywhere. It baffles me that a group that big with personalities from all around the country and walks of life can just fall together like that’s how it always was. Its like I found my long lost family of peers I didn’t know I had. It blows my mind that I functioned without these people in my life before.
It makes some sense, the “instant” bonding. Working at a camp forces you to be more than what you usually have to be in “normal” life. In most postitions, you really don’t have to be around your coworkers more than whats job related. And conversation can be left at that, even expected so. Camp is 24/7. And these are your people. And your modeling your complete self for a mob of youth. You have to be you times 200x all the time, with all these people. Given a little thought, you could “know” a coworker at some other job for years, say you talk to them 3-5min a day about non-work stuff. Thats about 25 min a week. Over the course of a year you’ll have talked to them ~25 hours. One week of camp with a co-leader and you’ve probably lived through more experiences than that year of “knowing” someone.
8 weeks later, I have about two more to say goodbyes and figure out what I’m going to do with myself heading eastward without these people within a yells distance of my physical person. Yeah….I’ll probably write more while sitting in the airport about 14 days from now in some kind of super-withdrawl, attempting to put my ducks back in a row. I’m still trying to get my head around the fact I’ll be in graduate school in upstate New York less than a month from now….
August is going to be friggin intense.
Yeah, really I lack thoughts, much less words, to express whats going on right now.
I've come to realize I have no less than 9 unpublished posts. This blog is - somewhat like my journaling in a condensed time frame- started out strong and with intent, then dissolving into a randomly written in forum, with many half articles I feel asleep on. Since graduating from my first institution of higher education, I've put myself in neutral. Enjoying the finer points of life like cooking my own food, reading novels, drawing pictures, and sleeping on my parent's couch. This will all change in a week, so I'm relishing in it while I can. The only thing that bothers me about it all is that the only place in town that sells a mocha closes at 5pm is only open 6 days a week. Today I got myself going early enough to sate my week old craving. The , maple scone was wondrous, but I miss the Dish and Spoon and Starbucks mochas. Peter and Anne's tasted like caffeinated chocolate milk. Good, but not a mocha. Note to self: A quality mocha establishment in the vicinity is a requirement for future habitation location. I don't know what I'm going to do about this new found addiction while running about camp all summer. But if mocha's are my primary vice, I'd say I'm going pretty well.
I had the pleasure of going home this weekend. All the way back to the farm and lil ol’ C-Town.
Although my current location is by no means urban, it always strikes me how different my life used to feel. The slower, steadier, smooth flowing pace it has compared to the random, hectic life I somehow have built around myself. I’ll go for walks, wandering the empty roads, ‘cept for the occasional neighbor passerby, gazing across the corn fields, noticing the bird tracks imprinted in the dirt along side the road, the most vibrant sunsets I’ve ever seen….its all still there, as if it was cyrogenitcally frozen in my memories and rebuilt to exact spefications. Only the 2-4 new shop start ups on main street, soon to meet the doom of their prior occupants, stand to show time has passed there without me.
The reports back from the fam are always the same too: fox got a chicken, wheel broke on a hay wagon, went shopping at Cedar Mall, the church ladies made a delicous hot dish. The variations change, but the themes stay the same. They’ve always been comforting, assuring to me that the foundations I was raised upon still stand strong.
This weekend I met the other side.
By most all accounts, my life is flourishing like any soon to be college graduate’s life should be. I have a summer job lined up and graduate school tucked away for fall. I study a lot and travel almost as much. In some ( ok, a lot) of regaurds right now I lack a life, but that’s made up for this better one to come. At least in the eyes of others.
I had the pleasure of catching up with some old friends, have a few drinks, watch some TV and get updates on life.
As they’ve all seen each other more frequently than myself lately, I was first up on the updates real, and as humbly as I could muster re-counted my last year’s adventured and the upcoming projected ones to a lot of “oohs” “awws” and “hot damns!”
and a “At least you’re getting out of here.”
That struck me. While I could have told you as a tweenager that I’d probably never live there when I grew up, I always loved it. I’d walk about with dreams in my head, determinations in my heart that stayed for so long, I just came to believe them as inevitable facts of life. Yes, I’d go on to higher education. I’d get a sweet job. I’d study abroad. These weren’t maybes, these were facts. Facts I just had to put plans to. I never in my life considered the fact I was a rural farm girl with no experience or exposure to these things a hinderence. That was my blessing. I never had anyone tell me no, I couldn’t. Just told me how to work and to take opportunities.
My hometown was my wings, not the rocks tied to my ankles. But this weekend, I came to realize that’s what it is for many. Its easy to go back to. Its easy to live in a small community of people. Get attached. Grow accustomed to a regualr schedule of some job with evenings at the local cheap bar or on the lake. The room for professional advancement is minimal at best, but the lifestyle is cheap. So its easy to subsist and hard to advance.
While there are many content to live this way, as I’d agree it can be a fine way to live, when your head is full of dreams, or even an inkling desire for adventure, its a weight upon your back. When the question was turned around, as I genuinely care about their lives and what they’re up to, I was met with “umm…well. same ol same ol, just working at blah di blah….yup…” with a tone of discontent brought on by the thought I’d obviously think it less interesting than my own. Prehaps even a bit envious of where I seem to be going.
I was left baffled of what to talk about after that. Continuing explanation into my lil world would come out as un-due bragging or drive down a spike of how different my life has become. And as I had shared in the world they still inhabited for the majority of my life, I didn’t need to be given more explanation. The story hadn’t changed since I left 5 years ago. So movies were watched, and I awkwardly slipped away at the end of the day with heartfelt goodbyes.
I wish I could just hand out pieces of my mind to others to place in theirs. Lil dashes of ambitious optimism that refuses to see impossibility as an answer. An un-inhibited sense of self and a relentless sense of adventure, balanced out with some sense of logic and forethought. The only real tools, along with a killer memory and observation skills, I’ve ever considered myself to have.
The world is out there people. Its just waiting for you to take it and bite in. I can’t promise that it’ll taste as sweet at all times, just that won’t kill you. Own what you’ve got going for you and take a chance at what you want, then you won’t have a moment left to regret.
Sorry roomies, but blasting techno and hispanic dance pop is how I pump myself up to go preform classic percussion works. At least it only happens about twice a semester.
If you’re reading this before 7:30pm tonight…COME TO THE PERUCSSION CONCERT IN KFA
For those of you who haven’t had the opportunity to see me rip notes on the ‘rimba in the last 5 years or ever, I’ll try and record and post a meek quality, grainy video that doesn’t get the whole range of marimba timbre in which I don’t miss too many noticble notes and some sticks go flying for your entertainment.
These are my shameless pump up songs of the day. Enjoy. Dance about thine room.😀
Legit quality here:
I’ve ran off to Mexico since I last wrote, I won’t be able to do that justice until after finals, but here’s a teaser photo:
What is going on here? Where am I? What am I climbing on? Who is that Mexican man?
You will have to wait.
Oh for the love of cliff hangers…
“… I think that there are times where we said let’s just get it done instead of worrying about how we’re getting it done,” he said. “And I think that’s a problem. I’m paying a political price for that.”
~~Barack Obama, in regards to the health care overhaul.
as retrieved from: http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/40059757/ns/politics-white_house
Um, no shit sherlock.
If I said let’s just get it done instead of worrying about how we’re getting it done I’d get quite the chastisement and trail by fire for not having a plan. This applies to what I do in lab, work, or life. Not having a plan is best for road trips and nights out on the town; not running the most powerful and influential country in the world and its major policies. The rest of us get a bit more than some political flack for such antics.
While I appreciate your idealistic optimism and naivety; sorry you missed the ‘planning’ memo.
Also we’re putting new cover sheets on the TPS reports.
Hope you got that memo.
Though I am glad you acknowledged the problem.
First step to recovery ya know?
“The best plan, is to have a plan”
~~infamous words of a past co-worker
Good luck Barack.