Wednesday, November 28, 2012

PSA: I'm alive.

Hi. I'm not dead or anything. So that's a bonus. 

Let's see.... things are not really improving money-wise as I so eloquently described in my last post, but talking about money makes me feel pathetic and boring and also veeeeeeery panicky, so I'm going to distract myself with another topic. I will say this, though: 1. I AM currently gainfully employed, thank the deity of your choice. I serve dinner at a retirement community and it's fast-paced and sassy, so basically right up my alley. If only it paid more than minimum wage. 2. If you commented or emailed me about my last post thank you SO much. You have no idea how much it means/meant to me. I send handshakes and high fives out to you. 3. I am not yet homeless. Check back with me in five days and I may be singing a different tune, but at least for now, I've got a roof over my head. And a really comfy bed. And apparently I can rhyme/jest about my dire situation, so at least I've still got that. And my health. For now. 

The first semester of my grad school experience is in its last few weeks, which means there is a ton of shit I need to get done and I feel like I've been running around like a chicken with my head cut off, but kind of in a good way. Although thinking of literal chickens with no heads running around really freaks me out. I plan on holing up in my apartment this weekend with three gallons of Kool-Aid, a load of bread, and a pound each of butter and cheese so I can just crank out four or five papers. Partially because that's all the food I can afford and partially because that's what I'd honestly eat anyway. 

Just gotta avoid Netflix, that temptress minx.

I just can't state enough how I'm honestly amazed with my life in most ways. Amazed with how much I've learned, with how little I now cringe at seeing myself on camera and listening to myself talk, with how eager I am to hear how I can improve. I do not have a history of taking criticism with grace or dignity and I cannot bear to hear myself speak. I'm amazed with the colossally fantastic community I am building here, and the support I give and get within it on a daily (or more like moment-to-moment) basis. Shit gets intense. The idea of community is such a core value for me and I didn't realize how much it was truly missing until I moved to a funky little town in the mountains with these people that overwhelm me with their chemistry and empathy and joy and hilarity. 

There are these moments I have had during the course of my life sometimes, rarely, when I look around feel I am a part of, or in the midst of something special and unique, a moment in history that will never be replicated in pose. The last four months of my life are that. One of those times you try not to notice because calling attention to it might scare it away or cause it to end. I feel as if I've altered the entire trajectory of my life, that there are strange and lovely unknowns again, and dreams that scare me. The air around me is swollen with possibility and promise.  If I felt before coming here that I was an empty vessel with nothing to give to those around me, I can feel the drops plinking in again now, one by one, filling me back to a level that's enough to share. 

There are moments of misery and doubt, of course. They make life difficult and ultimately more interesting. There are bad choices and too many drinks and days that feel like a wash, just like any place on that map. This place has them too, because this person has them and will always have that element that strongly urges me against moderation and caution. I swing back and forth between feeling like I can someday be competent in my chosen profession to getting back a less than stellar grade and wanting to hurl my books and notes into the river. I have moments of desperation and what-the-fuck-am-I-doing-with-my-life?!! and I am challenged and don't always feel like I meet it quite right. Those flickers come when a couple walking down the street together makes me want to simultaneously cry and shank someone and hug someone and high five them both. I kind of hope that goes away. I'll keep you posted.

Everyone in my program is smart, and yet the environment fostered between us is not one of competition and superiority, but rather a building up of the whole as a unit. We are classmates, yes. We are friends, though, too. We are cheerleaders and each other's counselors and relationship advisees and the person willing to grab a beer on Monday night just because "I need a chat, it's been A DAY." We are equal parts fearless and terrified, yet it doesn't always come out looking like a balance. But there is always someone who understands how you feel because no one REALLY understands what the fuck that means yet. At least I don't think anyone does. 

If I could do it justice, I would. Believe me, I try.  There are study sessions, long walks, crafty afternoons, potlucks, and yes, even Friendsgivings. There are trips to new cities like Portland and karaoke at the VFW. There are parades and walks by the railroad tracks and concerts and hot springs and the unspoken breakfast date after a night out on the town. There are board games and movies, and just adventures in general. If you are hungry, someone will make sure you're fed. If you're feeling particularly stabby, someone will listen. 

If I'm in a messy state, at least it's a good messy state to be in. At least it's the right messy state. It feels a little like I bet that elusive "home" does. For now, it is home. 

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