So let's talk about penguins.
Actually, probably not. I do not have any penguin related news at the moment. However, in the event that you were wondering, I own a total of two stuffed penguins. One is named Herbert. The other is nameless and sports a Christmas-variety hat.
Since we last spoke I have become much more at peace with The Grand Dobbin Situation. Granted, I have not reached perfection. I don't expect to reach perfection in this, actually. I couldn't exactly tell you how I came to this point, this vague acceptance. Maybe it's a culmination of many things. Of saying my words to him and letting them sink in within my own self, of coming to the conclusion that he probably isn't going to say words to me (I've for so long wished for words to make sense of all this), of reading this book and working to accept good advice from friends. Of remembering to breathe. I still have to remind myself of this, breathing. I will tumult into the great mass of humans after a class and my mind will race and suddenly I'm walking, pressure rising in my throat, and I have to remind myself to exhale.
At times like these I wonder if I will ever be able to breathe again without thinking about it, thinking inhale-hold-exhale inhale-hold-exhale inhale-exhale. It will worry me for a few minutes and, eventually, the thoughts can be brushed aside.
I suppose the main change is that his existence upsets me less. It still upsets me. I still have to think my way through every encounter ("okay, Katherine, step this way. Don't give him the finger. Move away, look away, he isn't going to eat you. He isn't going to follow you to your locker. He's going to ignore you. Keep walking, breathe"). Maybe I will have to think myself through these things; maybe this is something that I have to let happen. The magnitude of the grief I have been experiencing for the past month is changing, lessening. Still an elastic ready to snap, still an elastic that may snap on occasion... But it hurts a little less, and I am able to function without every other thought dancing around his existence.
Please, let us speak in hushed tones. I think I'm making friends.
Did I just say those words? Slowly I am ingratiating myself with a vaguely nerdy crowd of a handful of humans. They aren't nerds, proper. But the idea is there. It leaves me, tentatively, hopeful.
Some people don't seem to think I suck. Maybe we're not meant to be BFFs, but they know my name and I know theirs. Which is kind of a big deal to me, actually, considering one of my failings has to do with names. I am really, really bad at names. If I know a person well enough to call them by their name without a shadow of a doubt that I am not slipping up, it is a big deal to me. Call it weird. That's just how it is. Sort of mostly.
I guess what I'm getting at is the idea that things are becoming... sort of... okay. This is another thing I fear, this great Land Of Okay. Okay, in my mind, equals the idea that I will soon be tripped up again.
I was paid for the first time last week. I do not know what to do with money. But... money?! I've been trolling Etsy for beautiful things. While instinct tells me not to spend money on things for myself and save it or donate it to humanity, I have been advised to have this Grand Idea that is called--you may have heard of it--fun. We shall see.
Last Saturday my brethren and I ventured out into the Great Land That Is Austin, Texas and visited a museum and the campus of the University of Texas. Both of my parents went there. It is an Option. My mother has a law degree but had to leave her job and move out of state when my dad decided it would be cool to join the Public Health Service when she was pregnant with me. My father was a dentist before he decided it would be a good idea not to be a dentist and leave, but I have no clue what kind of degree you need to be a dentist.
The thing with having a dentist as a father, I've found, is that all the Cool Kids then shun you or refuse to visit your house for fear that your father will Judge Their Teeth. It was particularly scarring when I was younger. I don't care if they were kidding. And, despite what you may think, I have not been blessed with beautiful Dental Care Skills. Ye Old Dentist Human (am I getting carried away with these titles? They're such fun!) always seemed ashamed of my teeth, despite the fact that I have never had a cavity and have missed only a handful of days wearing my retainer in the three years since my braces were removed. Have I told you my harrowing orthodontia tale? That's a fun story. Maybe someday I will grace you with it.
I was talking about the University of Texas at Austin. I don't believe my parents actually got their fancy advanced degrees there. It isn't really even magical of me to tell you about them, considering the job market is scary, thus my mother not yet being employed, and my father decided it'd be cool not to be a dentist anymore (and leave, not that it's particularly relevant to this either).
I'm really liking that string of words for the moment. "My father decided it'd be cool not to be a dentist anymore," that is. I find myself to be brilliant sometimes. Not now, but on occasion and possibly more than I actually am. Can you tell I didn't have a plan here?
But. The college campus thing. It was scary. And big. And all the people seemed cooler than me even though way too many of them were wearing burnt orange. Which, as my mother puts it, "doesn't flatter anyone." We're also visiting a campus in San Antonio somewhere this weekend. I may or may not be frustrating my mother with the fact that I'm refusing to be of much help in these matters. I struggle to take things one at a time, and if I attempt to make sense of one thing it's apt to get out of hand in my head.
Maybe some of that made sense.
Other bits: I dislike Tuesdays and Thursdays. Tuesdays and Thursdays equal twelve full hours in school/work. Tomorrow is Thursday. I hope I survive tomorrow. It isn't so bad when I have set tasks to do at work. I enjoy work when I have tasks, truly. When I do not have tasks I'm left to make work for myself (which makes sense, as they are paying me) and I end up straightening shelves, dusting, etc. Straightening shelves requires a lot of rapid stand, squat, stand, which makes me lightheaded. And frankly, I'm running out of shelves to straighten. There is only so much straightening that a shelf can handle before it's A-OK for a while.
I feel like I shouldn't be telling you this. Anyway, I really do like my job. It's more that I dislike Tuesdays and Thursdays for their length and general cruelty.
Part of me wonders if the Grand Discourse Of Boss Humans might search my personage on the Great Land Of The Internet. I really do try to conduct my internet affairs in a way that I wouldn't mind if I were (figuratively) frisked. I feel like I can back myself up. I am capable of being wrong. I am capable of being judgmental. But, soapbox moment: having judgment is important, friends. Were it not for judgment, you might very well be dead. Don't take candy from strangers!!
That is all.
Geez, you're a good writer. Simply excellent, actually.
ReplyDeleteAnd you're going to any one of a handful of universities here in San Francisco, just so you know.
-winning smile- (note the WINNINGNESS, which could also be construed as IMPISH, but let us not go into that)
ReplyDeleteWell. We shall see. Not that you've given me much choice in the matter.
can you say full scholarship, anyone?
ReplyDeleteI also try to keep my blog completely clean, just in case someone Professional or Official looks it up someday. However, I still kind of live in fear that I have accidentally written something on teh interwebz that will end up screwing me over someday.
ReplyDeleteI wanted to go to UT for a while, but I kind of hate the campus. I don't like campuses that are that huge and, in my opinion, confusing. Also, it's too much of a party school for me. I know that it's not as much of a party school as others, but it's still too much for me. I think the constant proximity to gratuitous underage drinking (and even of-age drinking) would kind of drive me crazy.
But, who knows, I may end up there anyway.
It's highly unlikely, but there's a chance that we'll go to the same college, which is a pretty awesome to hope for! :D
The best college-scouting advice I received is as follows:
ReplyDeletea) NEVER, say you'll attend a school if you haven't visited in person. Because the way you feel about it based on its shiny webpage is NOT the way you will feel about it in person.
and
b) When you're on a campus, try to visualize yourself there. Reading on the oval, or strolling through the quad, studying in the library or having tea in the student center. If you can't picture yourself there, it isn't the right place. When you are at The Right Place, you'll be able to imagine your life there.
And it will be Grand and Happy and Things.