in going through a journal

I found this. written 5/12/2008.

I am just trying to deal with it all.
Somewhere I got the idea that I’m in this alone.
Somewhere, I got the idea
that keeping my head above water
was the point.
So I survive
by the skin of my teeth,
but really by grace;
and as I examine this life, and question:
what went wrong?
I realize
I am not really living.

I know there’ve been a lot of pictures lately…

but check out my hair. it’s so long now.

especially compared to august.

a couple of weeks ago I turned in the longest paper I’ve ever written. a comparison/contrast of Seneca’s Oedipus and Shakespeare’s Macbeth. as soon as I turned it in I began to fear that it had some fatal flaw. especially given what I’ve heard about this professor’s grading.

I got it back today: A minus. I’ve never been so happy to see an A minus.

I’ve been struggilng a lot lately to keep up with my homework, due largely to bad time management but also due to the fact that I finally got a job so I’ve had even less time. that grade was just a little affirmation that yes, I am capable of doing this.

that’s all for now.

an update of sorts.

well, I wanted a challenging education; and as far as I can tell, I’m getting it.
I spent three and a half hours in the library tonight, reading. I intend to spend most of the day tomorrow doing more of the same.
my classes are as follows:
Roots of Political Theory (Tuesdays and Thursdays, 10:25-11:40)
Major British Writers I (Tuesdays and Fridays, 1:25-2:40)
Contemporary Literary Theory (Mondays, 2:50-5:50)
Elementary French Intensive (Tuesdays and Fridays, 12-1:15 and discussion on Wednesdays from 3-4)

I know, only four classes. it’s strange. I feel like I’m never in class — except on Tuesdays, when three of the four fall back-to-back. but it works out well, because I have to read so much that if I had five classes I would probably go blind.
so far the most challenging is actually the government class. I’ll read our assignments — so far, The Apology, The Crito and half of The Republic (it’s Plato, giving us what Socrates supposedly said) — and think I have a basic understanding of them, but when we get to class I haven’t always made the connections that the professor apparently wants us to make. I feel like I’m just hitting the surface with my understanding of the text. it may be that I haven’t been reading closely enough, but I’m getting nervous because we have a paper due week after next and I don’t want to write about something I don’t fully understand. my struggle with this is both frustrating and encouraging: I’m not used to having difficulty grasping the concepts that I’m supposed to be learning in a class, so I’m frustrated. but I know that I’m being challenged, and that in itself is a learning experience. it’s good.

learning my way around Worcester has been interesting. so far I’ve been to a pizza place, a dollar store, the library, a coffee shop right by campus, Walgreen’s and the Salvation Army. the coffee shop near campus, Acoustic Java, is a nice little place, but it tends to be loud. not the best atmosphere for studying, which is something I enjoy doing in coffee shops. Taylor Books was my haven second semester. so I did a little research on area coffee shops and found one within walking distance — a mile isn’t exactly a stroll, but it’s definitely doable. so Abby and I gathered up our books and set out, and after between 15 and 20 minutes of walking, we found our destination: Java Joe’s. we also found that Joe owns two tiny tables and four chairs, three of which were taken. not a pleasant discovery. so we hiked back down Main Street and ended up in the place which we were trying to avoid: Acoustic Java. brilliant. next time I’ll do a little more research before walking a mile.

java? why yes.

sitting in the student union drinking free coffee. ya heard. free. coffee. even though it tastes like… Folgers, probably, it’s free, and it’s caffeinated, and I’m all about it. staying up until 2 a.m. does not lend itself to being alert for the rest of the day. this is my break, so it’s not like I have to pay attention in class at the moment, but I can see myself nodding off in film appreciation if if I don’t get at least a few ounces of beloved coffee.

Derek Webb and Sandra McCracken last night. in the basement of the student center at Marshall. it was a weird set up, a crappy room, all cinder block and linoleum. and Mr. Webb would not let us forget it.

I understand that when you play, you don’t want to play in the basement of anything, much less an old building with a narrow little stairwell and uncomfortable chairs. I’ve played in crappy places before, so I get that. but the people who came to see you aren’t there because they want to sit in a plush auditorium with an awesome sound system, they’re there because they want to hear you. so for the sake of the audience, don’t be so annoyed.

of course, I love both Sandra and Derek. hearing them and watching them play together is pretty awesome. though — gripe — the mix wasn’t very good so it was hard to hear Sandra’s voice when Derek was playing guitar. even in a room like that, when you’ve got less than 10 channels, mixing should be easy. nevertheless, I could listen to Sandra McCracken sing for the rest of my life, probably. and she is an amazing lyricist. so that was cool.

overall I wouldn’t say it was a bad show, though the people I was with might disagree. (: it was just a weird venue, with a weird vibe. I’d like to see them again when he’s happy to play.

it’s raining today. I borrowed a jacket this morning which has gotten me three compliments so far and it’s only 10 a.m. I hardly ever get compliments on what I’m wearing here at school. of course, two of them were from art people. hm.

today, wednesday, friday. next monday, wednesday, and friday. monday after that. and then? then, folks, I’m done with school for three whole months.

zombie.

like the cranberries song, except not.

another four shot, 16 oz day. another day of feeling completely un-energetic. oy vey. time for sleep.

so lately I’ve been trying this new thing.

it’s called having no less than 80 percent (and more like 90 percent) of my diet consist of fruits, vegetables, nuts and whole grains. and it’s about 60 percent fruits & veggies, many of which are raw. I guess this sounds a bit extreme and/or crazy to some of you, but desperate times call for desperate measures. when your food intake is mostly crap, you feel like crap, which I had forgotten. so I cut out the majority of the crap — I mean, there has to be some room for coffee, bread, and ice cream in my life, or it’s not really life at all — and I feel remarkably not like crap. for some reason, I felt compelled to share that.

it hit me today that this semester is almost over. I’m feeling a bit overwhelmed by the amount of schoolwork I have to do right now, which is very unusual, but in light of the year’s near end, it makes sense. so that made me feel better. basically, one more month and it’s over.

at the same time, it makes me pretty sad that I won’t have class with Dr. Ngenge anymore. that man is awesome. I go and visit him about once a week.

I’m thinking that something’s got to give, and it soon will. recently I’ve had this feeling of just wanting to quit what I’m doing and be fed. to stop ministering and be ministered to. I suppose that’s a classic symptom of being burnt out? but somehow in the midst of that I have this assurance that it’s coming. maybe not as soon as I’d like it, or in the way that I’d like it, but it’s coming. and I’m not quitting.

goodnight, loves.

tuesday night… but it’s really wednesday.

oh my.

life is made up of marble and mud, to quote Nathaniel Hawthorne.

sometimes I don’t know if there’s something I could do, something I could change, some habit I could adopt that could make me fit.

and then sometimes I wonder if I’m not as much of a misfit as I tend to think I am; if I’m just overly dramatic and read too much into things.

I suppose the problem with reading in between the lines is that sometimes you see things that aren’t there. I think I need to stop seeing things in light of how they affect me and be more considerate of other people. not that I don’t try to be considerate. I just know I’m too self-centered too often.

I took a step.

last night I slept on a floor cushion with a decorative pillow. best sleep I’ve had all week.

I took a step last night, a significant move toward honesty. do you ever have those completely raw, heart-baring moments and then later try to distance yourself from them? it’s almost unintentional, but I can feel myself stepping back and sort of analyzing my emotional state and why I would say what I did, feel what I did.

that’s stupid, so I’m intentionally stopping. and maybe I’m the only one who does this, but I’m not going to take value away from healing moments by over-analyzing afterward. no more.

it’s pouring rain today. how appropriate.

so…

yesterday was Clark. I anticipated correctly. the interview went well, and I didn’t run out of things to say, or say anything too stupid… sat up straight, smiled, hit the high points of my academic career and got to talk about the impact that my travels have made on me. it’s in Worcester, and I like the area — not the high-brow part of town, but not a part that seemed unsafe at all, and think I would have a lot of fun exploring. the view they have on academics and community involvement/social change, etc., goes pretty well with my own. faculty to student ratio is 10:1 and average class size is 20. I think I would fit right in there.

I also feel pretty good about being accepted — all my test scores and such are within or above their student average, and I feel like I got to present myself fairly well in my application and interview… so. I’ll find out in May.

went to visit Emerson today. meh. I mean, location-wise, of course it’s great — downtown Boston. location was definitely a factor in choosing to apply there. I don’t know how I could not enjoy living in Boston. from reading about the school, I knew they were career focused, and I thought it was kind of exciting that they were so intent on giving students real-world skills. but with the information session and the tour, it all seemed really narrowly focused. for instance, I’ve often thought that I would love to be an editor (maybe children’s literature, or something of that nature). if I knew for sure that I wanted to work in a publishing house, Emerson would be the perfect place for me. but I don’t. the programs are so specified, that for someone like me who wants her options a little bit more open, it’s not good. plus I just didn’t feel as comfortable there. a little too cool for me, or something.

I was talking to one of my sweetest friends last night about the whole college thing, saying that I was a little concerned about the decision-making process. but, I said, God tends to make things easy on me in that regard –no voice from the sky or writing on the wall, but I think a shut door can be just as effective. true to form, I didn’t like Emerson. I don’t want to go there. of course, I’ll keep praying about the whole matter, and I won’t have any final decisions until May, when I hear back from everyone. but barring some lightning bolt from the sky, I can totally see myself at Clark next fall.

so pray for a lightning-free next few months.

… and Clark is only an hour away from Boston, so I can totally spend time there. yes.

guts, spilled.

sometimes I wonder if I’m just chronically lonely. the last time someone really knew me was when I was 16. and even then it was only one person; one person who I not only trusted but a person who was actually willing to pry me open, to always meet my eye. it was over before 17.

I always resist that — the moment of truth, sharing what’s really on my mind, taking off that last layer of protection. yet I’m desperate for it. who has the time or the desire to deal with that? who wants to even go there, if an honest answer only comes after chipping away at the outside? I see what I do: how I resist, how I demand proof that you actually want to hear me. I guess it’s unfair in some ways. but if there’s no one else who wants to hear me, why should you?

I’m always doing stuff — making plans and exchanging phone calls, emails, text messages. running here and there to meet up with this person and the next. talking to each of them about the certain things we talk about. and yet, loneliness.

I guess lately I’ve just strongly felt that lack of having someone in my life, and I mean really in my life, someone I’m not always playing phone tag with, someone with whom I can spend time just talking and being friends rather than “catching up.” and I’m using lots of commas here, but that’s how it goes. maybe everyone’s lonely. maybe everyone wants more than they’ve got, and hardly anyone talks about it.

I hesitate to write out thoughts like this for fear of alienating friends — it’s certainly not like I’m friendless. thoughts of my one-time best friend, however, made me realize how closed-off I’ve become. it gives quite the sense of security… but it’s awful lonely. I guess I just need someone to remind me what it’s like to be pried open; to be known. someone who wants it as much as I do.