"Please leave the great indoors..."

Sometimes you get a day that just isn't good. Nothing particularly bad has to happen; you just know that you're not where you should be. The problem is that when you're in that sort of place it gets easy to focus on everything that's wrong, which moves you from "not good" to "bad".

I had plenty of code to show for myself, but I couldn't get all of me into the task at hand. I kept stopping. "Why can't I get out of whatever this is I've fallen into?" "I want to be better, how do I get there?" I only grew more discouraged as the answers failed to come.

Suddenly I realized I had to leave.

The first few steps outside took me to Florida Tech. I longed for days when I could take a walk and run into any number of people I knew. I then noted that in the current state I wouldn't have talked much with them anyway.

As I rounded the first corner of the building I told myself to look around me and realize how good it was to get outside. Slowly this evolved into a reminder to myself of various reasons I was lucky at that moment. "I'm able to walk. I can see. I have sunglasses to protect my eyes. I'm clothed. I have a decent job. I work for an organization some people only dream of being a part of. I've had an easy life by most standards. I have a supportive family that loves me no matter what I do. I have people who believe in me even when I don't see reason to..."

I next observed what great motivational speaker I am; not necessarily for other people, but for myself. So what was I going to do? Was I going to keep feeling bad over who knows what, or was I going to stop taking the good things in my life for granted and keep moving? Everything I needed to make myself better was inside of me if I'd allow it to be found.

That wasn't to say a walk around the O&C made everything all better. There were still things I wished were different and still things I wouldn't mind a quick fix for, but that's life. You can let it get you down or you can let it pick you up.

I've been a mess lately. I don't know what I'm doing and I seem to ask for guidance more than anything else. As I walked toward the front door sunlight snuck over the building and, turning the strands in front of my eyes red, revealed the calico nature of my hair. I laughed at this on the inside and decided that if a circle was the only direction I was going to get it was still better than nothing.

I'm not going to pretend I've made it all the way to good, but at least I've taken a few small steps past where I was before.

Captured At:1143

Something that randomly made me smile popped into my head a few minutes ago. I remembered talking to a coworker this morning and asking how his day off yesterday had been. He said he finished the swingset/fortress he'd been building for his two sons. He'd first brought it up when we all went to lunch last week and he mentioned having been up well past midnight working on it. He said one of the boys came to him and said something about loving their new swingset, and how that made it all worth it. I smiled and told him there was something special about making little kids happy.

I sit here tonight in a purple sweatshirt I've never actually worn before despite having been given it as a Christmas present two years ago. The top of Eeyore's head is framed with the words "positive pessimist". I don't believe such a thing is possible. Eeyore has always been Mom's favorite, and I remember giving her this extra layer when she was down over the summer as my sister fought with doctors and tests and surgery. I think she pulls it off much better than I do.

I spent my evening lost in a book. Reading has been one of my strengths going back to the days when my Kindergarten teacher would dismiss me to be a member of reading groups grades ahead of me. I remember my first instance of freezing up in front of people happening back then. If you'd told me my public speaking abilities would end up being what got me where I am now I never would have believed you. I look back on the journey that led me to a terrifying wooden podium on an October afternoon and I shake my head in disbelief. If Mrs. Collins and my fifth grade homeroom could have seen me...

One of the things I liked most about reading was that it provided effortless exercise for my imagination. Stories take me away from where I am and let me spend time in another world. Sometimes I wish I'd paid more attention to my assigned college reading. I'm not sure how I passed either one of my Civ classes because I couldn't tell you a thing about either of them. I know what I was supposed to have read, but any recollection was purged as I left the final exams. Sadly I've done that with a lot of my classes.

An important thing I've realized is that I need to feel challenged. I like the people I'm around and the things I'm doing to be pushing me in some way. I like them to force me to think and find twists. That's one thing that's been very much absent from my life lately, at least in the sense I'm speaking of. If I'm not exercising some sort of effort I don't feel like I've gotten anything accomplished even if I have something to show for it at the end. I hate to feel I'm wasting my time and my abilities and, therefore, my life. The trick now is finding something that will keep me both interested and mentally stimulated.

I feel a lot different than I did this afternoon which is both good and confusing. I suppose the mess comment wasn't entirely inaccurate. It probably helped that I spent my entire trip home venting. Poor Milo. :( Some time at Punta Margarita probably didn't hurt either. Next stop is the kitchen for more ice and bed for some quality time with Tigger. I'd hoped some of his bouncy happiness would rub off, but it doesn't seem to be working just yet. Maybe he's still taking time to adjust...

Captured At:2148

"...just like everybody else in the world
You just got lucky, that's all..."

The awkwardness of gyrations made in response to the statement of wanting to "see some movement below the waist" was only enhanced by the seatbelt that held me in place. Dancing is one of those things I am bad at, not because I lack coordination or a feel for the music, but because I think too much. Thinking too much has been known to destroy many a good thing.

"Yo quiero, a bailar in Mexico, we do the desperation samba, con nos amigos" I sang as I bounced with the music carrying me over the causeway. I smiled at a sunrise I had been waiting to catch head on and told myself that the way I felt then was how I was supposed to be. I was not what I had been fighting with the day before.

We all go through spans of time that are not quite what we would like them to be. March into April has proven to be traditionally bad for me and I look ahead unsure whether it will be the same now that I’m out of school and don't have to deal with everything that comes at the end of a semester. I have no idea what to expect.

As I showered and readied for work this morning the title line popped into my head. I recalled when I strongly related to "All American Girl" not because that was how I viewed myself, but because it was very much how other people were viewing me. The major difference between that character and I was that I did always say I was like everyone else in the world. I did say I'd just gotten lucky. I still do.

I look at what was going on in my life at that time. I was excelling at everything I did, be it work or classes or my organizational stuff. I was being actively recruited for a job by an employer I had never even imagined the possibility of working for. I had recently begun a relationship I had almost given up on thinking could happen. I was busy and active and my efforts were getting attention. How could it not look like everything was coming together for me?

Where I started to slip to almost a year ago is the exact opposite of that. I saw reality. I saw the inevitability of numerous things. The signs were all there in plain view. I voiced my concerns and no one wanted to listen. I was told I worried too much. I was told that worrying about things either wastes time or forces those things to come into being. I was told some things couldn't be any other way. I was told other things were not going to be nearly as bad as I claimed.

And you know what? In the end every single one of those things happened as I said they would. Every ignored statement, every unheeded warning, every concern I was afraid of voicing in addition to what I had already said came in time without action on my part. Life took its natural course and here we all are.

How could they have not known? Why didn't they listen? Why was the answer to keep telling me I was crazy, depressed, or wrong? How did I keep failing to get the message across? Oh, Cassandra, how I understand your pain! How easy it is to dismiss the things we don't want to hear!

My eyes recently fell upon a line in a book that said "Our hearts often believe what our minds wish were true". I'm not sure I have it exactly right, but that was the gist of the statement. It raises quite a problem.

Sometimes we land in places where our heart and our head work against each other. Our heart tells us something that seems logically impossible or our mind tells us something that feels unnatural and completely wrong. This forces us to determine which is actually right. Some people are always ruled by what they think, others by what they feel. I have been known to live in the thinking camp, but I believe we have the capacity to "know" certain things in each place; that both our head and our heart have the ability to reveal unquestionable truths to us.

Though the condition of emotion and intellect functioning in a cooperative environment carries fewer struggles I cannot trust it to be safe. How do you know which is leading the other? What if the mind's only role there is to justify what the heart feels? What if the heart is just feeling what the mind has told it to? How can you tell whether what you now "know" with both your head and your heart is based upon truth and not some alternate agenda?

I find myself wishing so much of my past reading had not been purged because something is telling me this head versus heart thing can somehow be related to the universal struggle between good and evil, but I'm not about to make a series of statements that have no solid foundation beneath them.

Whichever organ it fuels, I believe good wins. I believe what is right and true cannot be stopped. I believe my days of happily singing in the car will continue to vastly outnumber the ones spent screaming to the sky in pain and anger. I believe the time I spend on top of the world will outweigh the time I spend being rolled over by it. I believe I will be exactly where I am supposed to exactly when I am supposed to whether I exercise patience or not. I believe I have been lucky and will continue to be because I am just like everyone else in the world. Being that way means I have some one looking out for me, and they just so happen to own the winning team. It almost seems too easy.

Captured At: 723

Derek was making some comment tonight about what I deserve. I've heard things along these lines for years now. In response I expressed my frustration about how tired I am of everyone telling me I deserve "better". Why did people keep saying that to me?

His answer was something along the lines of, "Because they see something in you that you don't find everywhere else". I don't see how that works and I told him so.

"Better." What an abstract term. If I'm so darn special and amazing and every one knows that enough to keep telling me what I deserve, where the heck is it? Anyone out there want to clue me in, because cleary I'm missing it.

Captured At:2208

Home

The first time I was at RDU (the Raleigh-Durham Airport) was the beginning of April 2000 to see Cary for the first time. My family had moved from New York the week before and was getting used to the changes that come with moving five people and two pets from a four bedroom two story house to a three bedroom apartment. I was very confused at first because RDU was nothing like what I'd come to recognize in ALB (Albany International). I'm noticing a pattern of living closest to "International" airports that have nothing international about them. Hopefully that doesn't become symbolic of my life in some way.

I wish I could put my finger on what it is about airports that I've always liked. Maybe it's the sense of adventure that goes with a new journey. My destination today was quite familiar, but it was the first time I'd flown there in almost five years.

Maybe I'm just showing how long it has been since I was on a plane, but the lines for everything seemed crazy. What's with everyone taking off their shoes to go through the metal detectors? I decided that if they asked me to remove mine I'd simply leave them off. I created this mental picture of me walking around in my socks, riding the train and boarding my flight despite looks from flight attendants and other travelers. I imagined my dad's face as he found his oldest child walking through the airport carrying two bags and her shoes. These thoughts amused me so much that I was a bit disappointed when they didn't ask me to put my skeakers on the conveyer belt with the rest of my belongings.

C'mon, laugh. You know it's cute. :)

It became clear to me that even in my leisure activities I function very much the way I do when I'm focused on work. I sat reading the latest chapters in the grand adventures of Tully Mars snapping pictures every so often and mentally singing along with music delivered by borrowed headphones.

In addition to that part of my mind was wandering and part was very deep in thought. I had turned on my CD player not realizing that I'd had it set on "resume", so you can imagine my surprise when "Take Another Road" began playing unexpectedly. The song is about the main character in my book. It's also a song I've posted about that seems to keep coming back.

The music, the view out the window, and my overall mood came together in a poignant way at that moment. It's another one of those brief spans that, if possible, I would have frozen to go back to re-examine later. The hamster in my head began racing on his little wheel in search of solutions for how to get me out of the state, out of the country, off living in such a way that when I looked back on my life story I'd find the events that blew me away hadn't stopped at twenty-three and three quarters. I can't say I'm much closer to the answers, but I think acquainting myself with those desires again was an important step in the right direction.

Have you ever flashed back to a moment as it would have been through some one else's eyes? Somehow I was doing that as I exited the terminal and rode down the escalator. I could picture myself against the wall and was confused as to who the ride I was looking for was supposed to be. Fortunately my eighty-five year old grandfather had better vision than my dad and I and alerted us to each other with his pointing. They were both thrilled to see me. I had a few more head games on the way out, but once the airport was behind us those stopped. Dad continues to yell at every driver on the road he doesn't like, calling them names and criticizing them based on their bumper stickers. I don't think I was ever that bad and I'm very thankful that my on-road demeanor has improved. I don't ignore every dumb thing some one does, but it's acknowledged in a completely different way. Yes, I was definitely home.

Grandma had an entire plate of genettes waiting when I got here that I probably won't get through in the next three days. She continues to be very proud of her "NASA Girl" and is fascinated with anything I have to say about the place. I never realized how much I would have to learn just to satisfy all of the questions, but there's something really nice about that. If the answers are understood my listeners are happy because they feel smart, and if not they're still content because it's a reflection of the intelligence they believe I have.

After both of my parents went to bed tonight I was talking to Grandma and Grandpa a little about the things school had taught me. I told them about the Italian teacher who loved to hate me and the Cryptography teacher I didn't come to appreciate until after I'd left. I don't think they realized I'd earned a number of D's, but they seemed impressed that I'd taken the time I had to fix my mistakes. It's clear from the look in their eyes and the expression on their faces that they both love and think highly of me. They seem to like the person I've become.

I didn't know that Mom had been home sick for the last two days. It was sweet because when she got back from work today Grandma asked how she was doing and her answer was that she was better for seeing me. I've been given several big hugs since then. After dinner we went to the fabric store in search of a new knitting needle for Grandma's latest project and got the chance to talk a little about the uncertainties life has presented. The questions about my life came as we approached home, but when I said there wasn't a quick and easy answer she drove around the block and beyond instead.

Mom and I operate very much on the same wavelength. We found something completely hideous in the craft store and responded to it with the word "special" at almost the exact same time. Grandma laughed at us in the kitchen as we sang the Tigger song and recited parts of Dr. Seuess books in unison. I told her that there are plenty of people who didn't quite understand me until they met my mom and saw where a lot of that sort of stuff came from. I never felt especially close to either of my parents, but I'm thankful that I have grown to appreciate the people they are and have been able to create a better relationship with them.

We talked more about the move over coffee. Mom says she continues to believe that God will put her where she's meant to be. Grandma seemed to be very touched when I said that home is wherever my family is. I pointed out that it's not the house I come to see. I don't say I'm going to kiss every step, hug every doorway, and clean every window so they know how much they're loved. She laughed at that. She also laughed when my response to, "You're damned if you do and damned if you don't" was, "Not really. I'm sure God supports one of those choices." It seems I make them all laugh a lot actually. I don't consider myself particularly funny, but if they're happy I'm not going to complain. Smiles are a wonderful gift to give.

Bryan has delayed his arrival until sometime tomorrow and I'm looking forward to seeing him. He'll certainly add even more fun to the mix. He and I get along now because we're very much alike. Liz and I get along because we're completely different. It's funny how things like that can work.

What's strange is that as we sat in the kitchen tonight I was thinking about leaving. It felt like the trip was over and my time had been far too short. I think that's a reminder that I need to make the absolute most of the days ahead.

With that thought in mind I should probably go to sleep. It's rapidly approaching the "I've been awake for twenty-four hours" mark and 7am is going to come quickly. Don't tell on me, but I think I'm going to skip my stretches tonight and just torture myself with an ice pack before I drift off to sleep. Ah, yes. Pain. There's no better way to end a day than that.

Captured At:2331

What's that they say about old habits?

I randomly woke up again this morning before my alarm. I was initially unimpressed, but a 530 natural rising is much more understandable than a 4am one. I feared not being able to go back to sleep as had happened the day before. I then decided I should be thankful there was a cheerful bird somewhere outside my window and somehow managed to drift off.

It was about ten until seven when I woke up again. I figured I'd lay there until the alarm on my phone actually went off. I remembered my last trip to New York and how I was up before everyone; how on Christmas day I was awake and showered and had already seen the sun by the time the rest of my relatives wandered into the living room rubbing waking eyes. I felt a little sad and decided it would be in my best interest to disable my alarm before the melody it was destined to play could break the silence of the morning.

Where I am right now is hard to establish. It's amazing to me how the things that affect us in life can actually seem to take on a physical presence. I drove to the airport yesterday afternoon with a smile that wouldn't go away and a weight in my lower eyelids that said they could overflow at any moment without reason. I feel nothing but warmth and love tugging at my heart right now, yet the same threat remains. My head hurts because it doesn't know what to make of it all, but the thoughts circling in the grey matter continue unchanged.

There's a difficulty in not being able to say the things you want or do what comes most naturally to you. It starts to feel like denying who and what you are. I suppose that's why I stopped the usual fussing that happens when Derek says he misses me or he loves me like he did in each of his phone messages last night. I understood. On the off chance he never got to speak to me again, he'd want me to know.

I drove home from work the other day thinking about what I'd do if I only had five minutes left to live. Who would I call? Who would I want my final words to be spoken to and what would they be? Who would I tell them to get in touch with first and what messages would I have them relay? I don't know what prompted such an unpleasant set of questions, but the answers that came were very telling.

It's now nearly 8am and the sun is finding ways to stream into this room. I should probably do those stretches I skipped last night and decide how to best share the day with my family so that if my plane goes down on the way home they'll know that I loved them.

Captured At: 707

"Tell my story, pain and glory..."

Tonight I watched "October Sky" for the first time. I can't say I know anything about how it was rated overall because I don't tend to follow reviews, but I can say that I really enjoyed it. Words fail to express what it is that hits me when I'm witness to some one pursuing their passion and finding success, and that's very much what the film is about.

There's part of me that watched the movie and felt like I'd failed; like I'd completely missed my chance in life. It's never too late to learn and make the most of the opportunities that come your way, but things are so much different when you're a young student just beginning to explore what sparks your imagination. I admired Homer for not being willing to waste his natural talents and potential and I can only pray that I never settle for wasting mine.

I look at a story like I just watched and it's obvious that you know when there's something more inside of you. I'm reluctant to make this next statement because I worry that it will come across as arrogance, but I'm going to cross my fingers (which is hard while typing) and hope that's not the case. I could be wrong, but I believe there's something much more inside of me. Many people do, actually. They think I have what it takes to be great, whatever that really means. I worry about that sometimes because I'm not sure great in the sense they mean it is great in a sense that I find important or fulfilling.

I do often wonder what the final story of my life will be. I see many bits and pieces of things that make nice stories on their own, so to link them together and realize they all make up my life is incredible. I have been very fortunate thus far and that probably doesn't help me when looking long term. When you've been given as much as I have it's hard not to believe that at some point the luck runs out. What if life never gets any better? At the same time, what if it never gets any worse?

I had a really good talk with Carolyn today about some of my concerns with work. I told her that in many ways I don't feel I deserve to be there. I look at where I am and how I got there and I'm still blown away. I don't like to feel as if I'm complaining because I know they made exceptions for me and I don't want to sound ungrateful for that. I don't know what the ideal occupation is for me though, and I have no idea that once I figure that out I'll be able to do it with them.

Yet amidst the chaos I'm feeling right now I know there's a reason for it all. What evades me is what that is. I feel it and I know it. I believe it and I see it. I just can't seem to grasp it.

How does it all get written? What's in the next chapter? The next four chapters? It has the potential to be an incredible story, but what do I find to do with my life that makes me feel like I'm really making a difference? What's going to make me believe my time was well spent? How does it all end?

If I knew the answers to those things I guarantee I wouldn't be sitting here right now. I suppose I'll wait until the book is published just like everyone else.

Captured At:2153

"This used to be my playground..."

Driving home tonight I found myself detoured to campus. I'd been peeking at the western sky through Liz's blinds and it seemed to be asking for a more focused gaze. I've often said that if I'm ever in a position to fund a new building on campus I'm going to require it have a high, westward facing balcony. Until that day comes the best place I can recommend is the third floor of the Link building.

I parked by Gleason and made a very familiar walk past the auditorium. As I approached Link I looked up and remembered the view from the ground the night a few of my friends humored one of my silly ideas. I paused a moment at one of the large rocks and paid my respects to the one in over a hundred test subjects that hadn't survived. The doors to the stairwell were locked so I was forced to walk elsewhere.

The table outside the library provided a nice view. The palm trees joined with the quad in all the right places to create a nice frame for the object my eyes were fixed on. The moon is at that stage where only a slice of the bottom is illuminated, but its entire circumference is visible if you're really paying attention.

Why I was there is beyond me. I sat balled up on one of the benches looking at a familiar celestial body that I simply didn't have words for. He had such a taunting smile. What did he want from me? I sort of shook my head. "But you can't escape the mooon..." was the only thing that would escape from my lips the entire time.

After a few mintues I resumed my walk and wandered toward the Botanical Gardens. I remember when it wasn't lit up at night. I remember when it was locked after dark. I remember using a combination of glow sticks and the full moon to locate the pagoda SQUAMISH was providing drinks at during the first Halloween event held on campus.

As I walked the trail I thought to myself that I should be scared given that one of the security officers had been killed there not even a year ago, but I decided that if it was time for me to meet the maker, so be it. The area they've cleaned up looks nice with the lighting and if I didn't know it was being generated by a tacky looking water wheel the sound of the creek would have been very relaxing. On the other side of the trail I found a small cross and a pair of American flags that I suspect are for the aforementioned security officer. I paused a moment there and hoped his family was doing okay.

I walked behind Grissom and realized that I don't care much about me anymore. I just want everyone else to be happy and taken care of. What that means to me is of little consequence. I'll get by somehow.

As I crossed the wooden bridge I thought about the statue that would soon be coming into view. I remembered when there was an unused flyer hut there. I remembered watching them installing that panther on a December afteroon. I remembered Ken saying I could have one of its toes and claiming my choice as someone from UPubs snapped the first picture of our new landmark to be circulated. I laid down next to it and remembered watching the rain on an April morning when I wasn't quite sure what to do with myself. As I looked at the stars I remembered how cloudy it was that day when Derek discovered me outside. I thought about old CAB events that had taken place on the lawn behind me.

Outside of Keuper I found my bricks. Prior to graduating I remember being told I was leaving behind more than that. Walking toward them tonight I realized I had left a lot of myself as well. I left who I'd been before I got there and part of who I was when I crossed the stage on a memorable May morning.

I've been known to joke about selling my soul to the school, but in some ways that's such an accurate statement it's scary. After my family drove away at the start of my freshman year it became the most consistent thing I had. It was my life. My home. I grew to hate being away from it. Even my aunt and uncle's house felt too far. Now standing in the middle of it carries a sense of being too far away.

Walking around Florida Tech generates one huge flashback. It takes five years of my life and compresses them into a series of images that fire off so rapidly it becomes hard to tell when one stops and another begins. There is all sorts of sage advice that one must turn their head from the past and continue pushing forward with an eye on the future, but I am incapable of this. There is only so much of the mind we have power over and the parts I cannot touch prohibit me from gaining full control of my focus.

So where does this leave me? Sitting at the coffee table hoping the blue plastic glass I've refilled contains a more potent mixture this time around. I have absolutely no idea where to go next.

Captured At:2146

"Sunshine almost always makes me high..."

:: stupid grin ::

I'm thinking about yesterday and this morning, so you'll have to forgive me for getting a little goofy. The last two days have brought some of the nicest temperatures to the Space Coast that I've seen in a while. Shorts yesterday, sleeveless shirts both days...what more could I ask for?

I don't even have to close my eyes to see the coastline as Gareth and I walked it yesterday. We ended up out at low tide planting our feet on rocks, sandbars, and in puddles and trickles of the surf. He said the height and intensity of the waves was like at home and we both lamented neglecting to bring a camera to capture the beauty our footsteps washed away to become part of.

At one point as we were walking back I randomly stopped, turned to face the ocean, and threw my arms out as the breeze came with a huge smile on my face. It was amazing outside and it felt so nice to be making the most of it. I think Gareth laughed a little and made some comment about me doing my thing. I told him I hope I never loose that, but he claims I'm too old and it's stuck with me now. I wish I believed it was that easy to hold onto.

I saw all sorts of little fish as we walked back to our starting point that I felt bad for because they were clearly trapped in the little pools the tide's retreat had left behind. I wished I could have helped them back somehow, but I'm going to hope the water righted things later when it once again advanced up the shore. I also made a new discovery. The way the little bubbles floating on the water refract the sunlight creates a glow so that as they move downstream it looks like a trail of submerged stars are floating along the current beneath them. Yes, I did stop to watch. Perhaps the conclusion that I'm not easily amused in the "Ooh! Shiny!" sort of way wasn't entirely accurate.

I couldn't have asked for a better beach trip and Gareth ended up being happy he got off his butt and drove up to walk with me. He said he doesn't go out there by himself because it's sort of like going to the movies alone; it's a bit depressing. I told him there are plenty of things in life that are enhanced by the company of another person, but just because there isn't anyone else there doesn't mean you should decide not to do something you enjoy. Take that afternoon, for example. I would have gone to walk even if he'd stayed home, but it was certainly nicer having him there.

We stayed at the beach up until I had to leave for Liz's so I had to be careful not to mess up her nice couch with my sandy feet. Being at that apartment continues to take me back to another time that almost doesn't seem real. I still have no idea where the last year went. Next thing I know it'll be time for another candle, which is a really scary thought. Maybe I can use that as an excuse to go play on an island somewhere...

This morning I had a nice walk to attend one meeting and schedule another. I figured if I was at HQ I may as well go one building further and stop at the CIF to set up something I'm still insanely nervous about. I ended up standing outside on a phone call for a few minutes and could feel the sunlight expanding its warmth beneath my skin. I've missed that sensation and hope to take full advantage of its return.

Driving on mornings like this one makes me long for freedom. I don't want to live in a cubicle. I don't want to spend my days working. I want to be able to go everywhere and realize I'm wearing the expression where my eyes are open wide in wonder as I take in what's around me. I want to feel like I'm living, and I don't right now. I'm getting outside more often and I'm seeing more people, but it's not enough. There's an element that's missing. I don't feel as happy and carefree in all of it as I know I can, but life is never perfect. Until things level out to be more consistent I suppose I'll just smile for the moments in life when I really did have no worries and all was right with the world. Being outside the last two days fall on that list; sunshine on my shoulders really does make me happy.

Captured At:1821

Gears Crunching

What was said escapes me, but I recall sitting at the table with everyone when I was home and getting the impression that my demeanor had visibly changed. They tried to tell Grandpa I didn't understand what he'd said or wasn't paying attention. He didn't agree. He said he knew I was thinking because he could see the wheels turning.

Though it is processing different things now that movement has not stopped. I could point to the spots where it feels my head is at work. The problem is that nothing is coming of the effort. I'm looking at a blank text box feeling like there's something I'm supposed to be saying and failing to find the words to toss it out there. So instead of saying something worthwhile I suppose I'll skim the surface of life for now.

I majorly screwed up my sleep cycle last weekend and have yet to do something that will fix it. Monday found me oceanside until after eleven and home shortly before midnight. Derek and I haven't been to the beach since some unknown date before we broke up. Given that our relationship started with a mixture of Buffett songs, beach trips, heartaches, conflicts, open ears and pina coladas that has only been added to over the last three years it felt like some sort of normalcy had returned. Was there ever a time we didn't sit under the stars with him listening to my latest struggles of self and me listening to tales of his latest love interest as we did that night? Surely it's not possible.

I continue to apologize for any number of things he says he's forgiven. He continues to promise he'll always be there despite my insistence that he shouldn't make promises he can't keep. We could go back and forth on things like that forever. One thing I've confirmed is that I really do have a true friend in Derek and the idea we will still take time to catch up in twenty years isn't so unbelievable.

Yesterday's rainstorm on the way home only further convinced me that Chinese food and a movie was a good idea. Gareth seemed to agree, so instead of camping out on my living room floor for the evening in running pants and a t-shirt as I'd previously planned I headed in his direction for take-out and a trip to CinemaWorld. We arrived in time to catch the last few trailers and were surprised to find our theater completely empty.

Gareth wanted to see "Robots", which I knew absolutely nothing about. Much like when I saw "Pirates of the Caribbean" a few years ago I was pleasantly surprised when I left. The movie had me laughing from the beginning and some of the sequences they animated were incredible. The film has a lot of positive messages too. I'm not sure I have it word for word, but the line that I remember most said something to the effect of "A dream you don't fight for will haunt you for the rest of your life." Wow.

I wonder if not having a dream haunts you the same way. Maybe it only does that if you realize you don't have one. At the moment that's where I fall. I don't know what my dreams are - not in any concrete or potentially obtainable form at least. I never had an answer to the question of what I wanted to be when I grew up.

Where's the passion? What's my motivation? How long do I have to sit in limbo before the light comes on? Why am I always asking these questions and never finding an answer? Where am I going wrong?

For as much as people tell me I'm wiser than my years there's still so much I don't understand. They say I'm better off than most because of what I do know, but sometimes I don't feel that way. I wouldn't change who I am, yet at moments like this I wonder where I would be if I had been different. Would I have the same kinds of questions? Would I be ahead of where I am now or behind it?

It's amazing to me that something which started out on such a shallow level went deeper than I expected. That probably says something in itself, but it doesn't get anywhere near wiping out that feeling of there being something I'm supposed to say. One of two things will happen; either the words will come or the feelings will fade. Until then I'll continue to wait.

Moving on...

Captured At: 952

"Be good and you will be lonesome..."

Despite Bryan's initial protest about stealing a book from his shelf I brought Mark Twain's "Following the Equator" back from North Carolina with me. I have yet to start it. There's now a stack of books sitting in my room that I want to get through before tackling an emerging list of things I've never read.

The title quote can be found on the first page of the Twain book and, because of that, found its way into a Jimmy Buffett song. At the beginning of the MP3 I'm being delivered he says he thinks it still works in the fabulous 80s. We're way past the 80s now and, though I don't see how the verses of the song fit with the chorus, I still believe the line that inspired it works.

A quote like this is great because there are so many ways it could be pulled apart. Words like "good" and "lonesome" can be examined on a number of levels. Today, however, I choose not to do that.

I'm trying to decide whether the iPod was a good idea or a bad one. Having all of this music at my disposal while I'm at work certainly helps make the day go by, but it also makes me not want to be here. I'd much rather be playing somewhere. Today I'm changing away messages based on what I hear that makes me smile.

I'm so screwed. Totally and completely. There's just no question. What's giving me the most trouble right now is that I've used up all of my extra hours so it actually costs something if I decide to randomly take off. Maybe I'll wake up on time tomorrow and put in an extra hour. Then next week if I feel the need to escape I can actually do something about it. Maybe I'll catch a sunrise somewhere in there too; it's been a while since I did that.

You know, in some ways that almost ties back to the title as I'll most certainly be watching the sunrise by myself. Funny how alone doesn't necessarily equate to being lonesome though. We'll see how it all shakes out next week.

I've been seeing a lot of these "Hacker Safe" graphics on websites. I realize this is supposed to make customers feel better about online shopping, but if breaking into stuff was something I did purely for fun that's one of the first places I'd go just to see if I could do it.

Yes, I have done stuff just to see if I could get away with it. I've also not done a lot of stuff I know I could have gotten away with. Suddenly I'm remembering the day I crashed Laura's tour to obtain the key to the 7th floor of Crawford.

One of the classic Ambassador Interview questions is "If you were a golf ball and you could land anywhere on campus, where would it be?" I laughed and told them I'd probably end up in a puddle somewhere, but I'd like to be on the top of the Science Tower because I bet the view was amazing. At the time I hadn't been up there. It should come as no surprise that it quickly became my favorite tour stop.

As I wonder how many people I've led around that place I'm remembering one of my spring Open House groups. They decided to send their new Admissions Staff hire with me saying "You can go with Bec. She's the best." I was the last guide to get a group, so everyone who was left in the Clemente Center got to follow me around. That included the kid with the broken leg who was being driven around on the golf cart. Then, as I'm standing in front of this huge group outside of the SUB, one of the parents looks at the SG Election results behind me and asks, "Is that you on there?" "Yes, that's me. And yes, I did lose by six votes. I thought the guy was going to cream me though, so I'm really happy." I found out later that Angie was on that tour and her mom would ask if she ever saw me on campus. The kid being driven on the golf cart also enrolled and the new Admissions hire was Steve, who ended up being our Ambassador contact in that office. He continued to believe I was the best over the next two years and would often tell my tour groups that's what they were getting. No pressure or anything. :)

But hey, I did my job and I did it well. That said, I should adjust my efforts so when it comes to this servlet I've been working on I can say the same. I'll be good. I'll work. And yes, I will be lonesome. The butterflies in this cube aren't the most interesting company.

Okay, there went that. I went looking for the lyrics to DMB's "Pig" and found a link to listen to the first single from the album coming out in May. Now I really want to get out of my cubicle and just...wow...I don't even know. Just go. I'm seriously grinning like an idiot right now.

This is why I risked getting yelled at for driving to a midnight madness sale on an icy winter night. This is why I had no problem driving to Tampa when I had an 8am final the next morning or from Melbourne to Raleigh for a day so I didn't miss my Monday exams because of a concert. This is what makes the road trips and the long nights and the sunny days that much better.

Go ahead. Laugh. I'll never be able to explain it well enough, but if I could share just one sip of what I'm intoxicated with right now you'd understand. It's simple, pure, and so very potent. Remember that whole "alone but not lonesome" thing I was saying earlier? This is one of those times. I'd be singing my heart out back here if I didn't think my coworkers would consider it a form of cruel and unusual punishment. Wait! Brad just went out the door! Rock!

Staaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay...

:: laughs and continues grinning like an idiot ::

Captured At:1351

Grey skies are gonna clear up...

I am in an absolutely fantastic mood today. Given that the entire state of Florida is radar green with rain this defies explanation. I want to go conquer the world under the sort of circumstances that generally find me buried under the covers.

Today, though, I'm not sure being "up" is doing me any favors. My eyes have been pulled back to my code far more than normal, but I'm so jumpy inside that it doesn't help. I'm going too fast to catch up with myself.

This morning I was thinking about the lyric that graced the signature of my Florida Tech email address. "I'm only this far and only tomorrow leads the way" is a very accurate statement at the present moment. It is a lot of the time, actually.

Over the last few weeks I have been struggling because I don't know where I'm going. I still don't have an answer to that, but today I'm content simply to know that I am, in fact, going. I'm intrigued by the uncertainty, not fearful of it. I'm suddenly not nervous about tomorrow's meeting, but confident that it holds something good for me. I may have been pushed to act a little sooner than I planned, but now that things are in motion there's nothing to do but run with it.

Watching people running in the rain is amusing to me. You'd think it was some deadly menace they had to get away from. Now in certain circumstances it is dangerous, but a little storm is okay. Campus was always fun to navigate in wet weather. The images of a flooded Academic Quad and a waterfall cascading off the Skurla roof come to mind.

I have to admit I'm not actually thinking about rain right now. I'm thinking more about the figurative grey skies of life. In the cartoons they show people with little rainclouds hovering over their heads and I think we all have our moments of that. I've been trying to run from mine with variable success. Today I'm miles ahead of him and I plan to continue putting distance there.

Every storm disappears with time. That's something people seem to forget, both when they find themsleves in or watching one. It's easy to overlook the fact that some things just have to run their course. That's why I always tell people not to worry about me. I'm unconcerned because I know I'll be okay and no amount of worrying on their part is going to speed up the process. I always bounce back. It always levels out. The sun always returns and sometimes, if you're lucky, you get a rainbow. :)

Captured At:1402

"I didn't realize that today is National Drunk Day."

Well, I guess that's one way to put it. I hadn't given thought to it being St. Patrick's Day until Mom wished me a happy one in her reply to my email this morning. I told her that meant it was also the birthday of a girl I'd been friends with in elementary school and wondered if she was still leaving treats around for her leprachaun. Given that I'm fairly sure she went off to study politics I'm betting that's probably not the case.

When I was home Mom was digging through a box of pictures looking for one of Dad she wants to frame for Bryan. She pulled out a bunch from when I was only a few months old; it's clear they're me because they display the early stages of the mole in my eyebrow. You really have to go back to into the single digits month-wise before I stop looking like I do now. I really haven't changed.

One of the pictures she pulled out was a class photo from my third grade teacher thanking me for being part of her very first class. "Let me guess, I'm the one in the back with my head down."
"Yep."

:: laughs :: Me? Hiding and not cooperating? Who would have guessed that?

I was digging around in my pictures tonight. I have some of the old pictures folders that I can put back up, though the ones missing will have to wait until I decide to attempt hooking the old drives from my computer to the new box. I smiled a lot as I flipped through them. I've know some good people, had some good times, and continue to collect good memories.

One of the pictures I laughed the most at is the one of me sitting on the door to good old Roberts 507S. That was on St. Patrick's Day as well. Keebler had a video camera that captured me goofing off spectacularly and bouncing off the walls in the literal sense. I'm suddenly reminded that I need to send him a wedding card next month. I suppose this means that on the rare occasions I catch him online now I won't be able to start IM conversations with "Hey there hot stuff" anymore. Darn.

:: yawns ::

I'd be asleep right now but I'm waiting to switch my clothes from the washer to the dryer. Apparently I haven't done laundry in a while because I couldn't get everything in one load like usual.

Looping in the background is the full version of the new DMB song without the AOL guy talking over it. Melissa was laughing at me today because I'd started devoting mental cycles to a pointless discussion on the antsmarching.org boards. Their debate was whether the correct comma placement for the refrain is "Stay, beautiful baby/Stay, American Baby" or "Stay beautiful, baby/Stay American, baby".

When I first read that I thought it was pointless. What difference did it make? Then I started looking at the arguments and realized that where the comma goes changes everything. I agree with the minority that believes it's the second way. I told Melissa we'll know when the lyrics come out and then the thread will be revived with part of the board going "HA! I told you!", part going "I still think it's better the other way" and part asking why people are still bickering about it. :: laughs :: Watch them either not print the lyrics or do it the way I had it in my message at work yesterday afternoon; neither of those answer anything.

:: yawns again ::

Okay, washer's done. Crash time. Fabulous.

Captured At:2207

How did this escape me?

Toward the end of my appointment today they tossed "Crash" into the CD player. Naturally I had to continue listening in the car on the way to work and bounced along happily. Then Milo flipped to track five, which goes farther back than I can believe.

I smiled through the tears and choked on words I was determined to continue singing along with as memories played quietly in the background. I've mentioned the song here a number of times and have used parts of it as post titles, but somehow the lyrics never found a place of their own.

This morning I would like to remedy that. I would also like to recommend finding a live version of the song. The music, especially what continues after the singing has ceased, walks a thin line between sound and emotion. If you know how to listen it will blow you away.

Captured At: 920

Pinch Me

The sun breaks through the guardian of its light within moments of my exit. I smile to feel the wind and the warmth. My feet effortlessly fall in time with the beat of sounds filling my ears as if the music is carrying me. In the sky I see the sort of cotton fluffs I continue to love. They're framing a nearly half moon barely visible against the blue. Through the trees to my right I can see the stripes of the American flag running down a tall building in the distance destined to be a landmark for as long as it stands. Ahead of me the stars and stripes make more lively movements as they twist around the breeze. I'm walking the same steps as scientists, astronauts, engineers, politicians, and scores of people whose supporting roles were cast in shadow by the history created on the grounds of the Kennedy Space Center. Where I've been is unbelievable. Where I'm going is unimaginable. Where I am is amazed, shaking my head as I ask, "Is this really my life?"

Captured At:1519

Postlet #5-322

It seems to be that there are moments in life where we can't do anything other than stand and scratch our heads as we look at where we are and what has happened to bring us there. The last few days were fun for many reasons while also bringing with them all sorts of confusion, frustration, and unexpected twists. Many would see that as a golden opportunity to complain or be upset, but somehow I look at the events behind those things and find good. I learned a few more things about myself and was woken up to aspects of life I prefer not to consider. I was reminded that I have good people in my life who genuinely care for me and grew more thankful for that. I continue to know that things could always be worse.

As I sit here this morning I'm happy I've been given another day to watch sunlight squeeze through the blinds and hear joy in the song of the birds. I wonder what the rest of it will bring.

Captured At: 818

Sprachensehe

I'm standing in a large room looking at the opposite side. A line of windows races down the white walls toward a wooden door set slightly ajar with darkness behind it. There's an old look to my surroundings that seems enhanced by evening sunlight casting shadows on the polished floor. I'm silent. Any sound I make is sure to bounce around the emptiness before it's carried into the rafters above me.

Though I see this image quite clearly I don't believe it to be a place I have been. The scene was triggered as I sat here wondering what I wanted to say and questioning how long it will be until the specks of thought I have had over the past few days will accumulate into dust bunnies big enough to relocate.

Perhaps I should be thankful that the contents of a usually turbulent mind are rippling gently instead of carelessly crashing between my ears. As that image unexpectedly comes into focus I am amazed at how thin the line is between thought and vision. I pause here while a strip of word pictures from days past and scenes that never were play behind my eyes. I begin to wonder if I could create them and sigh with acceptance that the images I put on paper will never match the magnificence of what's destined to remain unseen.

While it sounds depressing, the thought fills me with amazement. What our eyes reveal to us composes such a small part of the whole that we are limited by sight should it be all we are capable of employing, and even then many lack the ability to truly use their eyes. So much with visual presence in the world is missed that it causes me to wonder how those things without it stand a chance.

It confuses me how one can become so lost in emptiness. The light outside has faded and I find myself standing where I arrived, blinking slowly in the dark. Perhaps there really is nothing to be found in this room today.

Captured At:1625

"And I know I'm just here to amuse you..."

Neglecting to see the impact our actions and behaviours have on others is all too easy. There's a very specific aspect of me that I have in mind here and it walks a fine line between good and bad.

The newest addition to my quotes page also featured as a work away message was, "Bec. Decreasing productivity since 1981." I made this remark as I stood in the middle of my office listening to Robin and Vu laughing as Brad watched a video I'd shared for the fifth or sixth time.

Perhaps it was cautionary, but my mother often said that there's always some truth in sarcasm. As I pondered my remark more I realized there was far more truth behind it than I was acknowledging at that point.

Through no calculated attempts of my own I am a distraction. Early in our knowing each other Derek said he'd been less productive since he'd met me, but he was happier. Conversations with people that should only last five minutes tend to carry on way past that point. I know I'm the reason a number of other people's tasks have not been completed on time and my chronic tardiness appears to be more contagious than I thought. I look at things like this and think, "Wow. I'm a terrible influence."

On the reverse, is it really so bad if my distraction gives a person something to laugh or smile about for the rest of their day? Is it bad if it results in some time to relax that they hadn't expected and quite possibly needed? Is it bad if it makes them pause for a moment to watch some clouds or admire stars from the beach?

Of course it's not really about me, is it? It's the people I interact with and how easily swayed they are at a given moment in time. Perhaps I'm just the excuse they're looking for to not do what they should be. Whether we're directly aware of it in our actions or not we're always making a choice.

My choices this morning will make me barely on time for work. It probably comes as no surprise that I am unconcerned about this. For as much as I hold up other people I am also a distraction to myself. Today my sentiments on this echo Derek's. I'm happier for it.

Captured At: 740

I haven't lost my mind, it's right here in this envelope!

I'm sitting at my desk trying to figure out what this colorful transparent circle is actually telling me. They've given my brain back and while I am not all that surprised by the results I did laugh to find I scored the second most common type among males. Yes, you read that right. I think like a boy.

I have a love hate relationship with tests like these. I never like the actual taking of them, but am always curious about the results because of the potential they will show me something about myself I was previously unaware of. I find it almost disappointing that I have yet to be shocked by anything that has come back, and that often leaves me wondering why I took the time in the first place.

Then again, what do you really do with the information when you have it? Does it provide a tool with which you can rationalize your behaviour, does it motivate you to make some changes, or does it get tossed aside and never thought of again?

The possibility also exists that what you get back is inaccurate in some way. Although it was never a driver I am fairly certain I took a test in eighth grade that pointed me toward programming, and we all see how well I seem to do with that. I have also tested as being highly introverted, but that fails to hold true in a number of situations.

As I say this I begin to wonder how we can define who we actually are as people when our behaviour is motivated by any number of external conditions. Granted our actions are only a small part of the picture, but they're certainly indicative of what goes on inside.

Here I throw myself into another whirl of confusion as I find I could not end the previous sentence with "inside of ____". What goes in that space? The human body is not built around a hollow center where our thoughts, beliefs, ideals and the like float freely. The essence of a person isn't tangible at all.

Again I find myself at a dead end. My natural tendency is to ask questions and I do not believe a single one of them is without an answer, but I came to the acceptance a long time ago that, no matter how much I reach out for them, some things will remain beyond the grasp of my understanding.

Captured At:1302

"Let the tears splash all over you..."

We all have moments in our lives when more is given to us than we know how to handle. Often these end up being minor in the grand scheme of things and we never go back to look upon them again. Sometimes, though, they carry far more weight. I find that when faced with one of those situations I have a tendency to run. Whether the action is an escape or arrival is debatable and varies by situation.

It was in facing one of those heavier cases that I found myself at the beach. I had left work and gone home first, but ultimately the ocean seemed to be the only place to go. When I arrived there were more people around than I had expected. I walked down the stairs, took off my flip-flops, and put in the attractive white earphones before tucking an iPod into the back pocket of my jean shorts. The heat was a welcome change, but the intentions of the clouds were obvious. I examined the coastline realizing I had no idea how far to let myself go.

As I meandered over shells, sand and rocks quieter sounds than the ones I had previously been absorbing reminded me that I was there to get intimate with a mind that seems uninterested in its usual functions. How I heard thunder over the music is beyond me, but as lightning struck somewhere in the distance I knew it would be best to turn around.

My last stop to face the water was not far from the steps I had descended earlier. I stood knee-deep in the Atlantic watching the world grow dark as I was serenaded by a song that surprisingly kept me on a Florida beach instead of taking me back to a New York bedroom. The shoes in my left hand dangled carelessly at my side and slowly the rain began. Questions and remembered words continued skating through my mind. I tipped my head straight back, looking into the grey above me while its deserters added dampness to my face.

As it neared the end the song seemed to intensify with the storm. Soon I was out of the water and sprinting toward a car that would get me safely home. I ran fingers through my wet hair and knew I had not found any answers. I still did not know what to think or believe. The storm continues outside, but inside there are just clouds. I almost fear what happens when they break and all can be seen again.

Captured At:1733

Recap of Sorts...

When I go days without a post I never quite know where to begin. I have yet to find any sort of consistency or pattern to when I write. I think I'll not worry about that too much.

I suppose a recap of the past few days will work. Friday night found me at church with Derek and some of his friends. We were late, and from what I could tell all the evening had consisted of was the youth group performing the stations of the cross, the procession to kiss the cross, and a video montage of scenes from what I assume was "The Passion of the Christ". After this we all went to a restaurant further up A1A that Derek's friend, co-worker, and one time love interest works at. As he took me back to my car I commented on how awful it was watching the way he and his friends were acting just because they were being half served and half harassed by their cute waitress. She may have enjoyed it, but I was embarassed for them. I also told him that while I am sure she is a very nice girl I probably would have shot her if they had ever actually started dating.

Yesterday I decided my apartment needed to stop looking like such a disaster area. As tends to be the case with me I made a huge mess in the process. I suppose that's a good metaphor for life; sometimes it has to get a little messier and more chaotic before things can be put back in place. I washed everything from sheets and towels to pots and pans to the sea of clothes expanding across the floor, attacked the bathroom, finally ran the dishwasher, and reminded my mop who's boss. ::laughs:: Me with a mop. There's a fun image.

Since Derek ended up going home yesterday morning he and I met in Kissimmee for the Maroon 5 show last night. I now have an empty can of Milo on my fridge because he said he saw it and couldn't resist. He thought it wasn't bad. I thought it wasn't good. Why does this not surprise me?

Traffic was surprisingly light and the crowd was a lot younger than many of the shows I find myself at. There were several pre- to early teens there with their parents, but I suppose that's to be expected at a show where the headlining act is a Top 40 performer. The venue was a lot smaller than I had expected, so our seats in the 200s were actually the equivalent of a 100s section at somewhere like TD Waterhouse. Not too bad.

The opening act ended up being some chick band whose name I didn't catch during the performance. I'd like to say there was something special about them, but there wasn't. They never showed the bass player on the screen, I couldn't make out a word they sang, and the lead singer could really use some lessons in the "clapping while standing and jumping" department. Of course given that they were girls Derek had his own set of comments on them which had me less than thrilled. He claims I can't get mad at him for that anymore since we're not together, but I think common courtesy says that if you're out with a girl you don't comment on every other one that's around. He responded to this by saying I wasn't a girl. Yeah, we made a lot of progress there.

Getting back to the angry chick rockers, Derek told me to be nice when I started mocking them, but then later randomly turned to me and said, "I'm suddenly very very sorry I don't have anymore beer." When the lead singer announced they had two more songs to play for us I groaned and then began laughing as I noticed Derek had dropped his head in disappointment at this news. I will say one good thing about the group though. Before the last song the lead thanked their crew and the local crew saying she'd watched them set up every one of the chairs and wipe them off. When the crowd didn't react to this she responded with, "You're not going to clap for them? They're the ones behind the scenes making all of this happen." I think everyone clapped to shut her up, but I thought it was really great she metioned them.

I'm not quite sure what to say about Maroon 5. I had no idea what to expect going in because I've never gone to see a band like them before. While many groups have a lot of doctoring up done in the studio I didn't get that impression from them. Several of the songs were played out longer at the end, including one instance of using "Another Brick in the Wall" as an outro. The lead of the group admitted to having ripped off Lauryn Hill for one of the songs; one he said he likes because it's the only positive song about Jane on their entire album. For the last number of the encore I was surprised to see him swap places with their drummer. I don't think I've ever watched the members of a band trade instruments before and it forced me to consider the possibility that they have actual talent.

My one complaint, and the thing that would probably keep me from going back, is that it was the shortest concert I have ever been to. They didn't take the stage until between 815pm and 830pm, and by 10pm Milo and I were navigating the grass to an exit. It took longer to get out of the church parking lot this morning than to reach 192 and head back to Melbourne, so I had plenty of time to stop at Melissa's, doze off watching TV, eat, and go home to crash on the couch because that whole mess before the order thing left my bed covered with clothes instead of blankets.

And now it's Sunday. There were a few other non-narrational things I had considered touching on, but I'm late. Really late actually. Note to self: Fix mistakes later.

Captured At:1225

"The more you know
The more you feel
The more you understand..."

One of the things I have been most strongly struck by lately is the canyon of separation between knowledge and understanding. In a metaphorical sense what I am saying can be illustrated by walking backwards a few years to my enrollment in physics. Our professor would allow us one 3x5 note card with equations for use on our tests, so studying often involved going through the notes to write down anything that appeared potentially useful.

There is a huge flaw in this method of exam preparation because the text crammed into the available space was of next to no value when the test came. What did the letters mean? How did what was in this corner with the letter 'p' relate to what used the same letter on the back side of the card?

Likewise, how much of what I have written on the master sheet inside of my mind over almost twenty-four years is actually meaningless? I can nod my head and say, "Yes, I know" when discussing any number of things, but how much of that do I really comprehend?

Take yesterday for example. Growing up I knew Easter to be the same as almost every other child. At some point leading up to it my parents would help us dye and decorate hard boiled eggs in a tradition I never considered the origins of. I can remember buying supplies at the store and how I would never want to eat the eggs if I cracked them open and found the dye had soaked through the shell. When that one Sunday came I would wake up to find a basket full of candy and other assorted things left by a mythical rabbit who was kind enough to satisfy the sweet tooth of children everywhere. When I look back I see a few memories, but not nearly as many as one would hope. I suddenly find that to be very telling.

I do recall the year I found the candy in my parents' closet while trying to locate my brother's missing Easter basket the night before. One year we went to brunch with Dad's side of the family somewhere in Saratoga. Things like Easter pies, Easter hats, Easter dresses, and Easter parades come to mind. Given that my family is Catholic we went to mass like we did every other Sunday, but I never saw the importance of what we were there for. It seems almost tragic that for all of the years I was active in that church they continually failed to get the message across.

Time and experience are wonderful teachers. Milo was less than half a parking lot behind me when a meaning I had been missing my entire life seemed to appear out of nowhere. It was far from just another Sunday. There was no day, no event, no cause for celebration greater than this. The realization was so amazing and so simple that I was completely blown away. I still am to be quite honest.

This causes me to wonder if my efforts have been put into the wrong things. Perhaps I have been searching for understanding where none exists to be found and failing to take a deeper look into the things that truly merit it. That thought forces me to call any number of things into question as I think about what people are impressed I know at such a young age and what I dismiss that they try to teach me along the way.

Some of life's most fundamental issues are tossed in here as well. I know good and bad as well as right and wrong. The question is, when I look at specifics in those categories do I truly understand what makes them that way and the implications of acting in a manner I should not? I have recently discovered that the answer to that is no. For as much as I try to be good and do the right thing I am not sure it matters how many good intentions a person has if they are unable to understand what they are really dealing with. My biggest failure in that respect was not only huge, but greatly affected some of the people I care most about.

Where I run into problems is that I do not see any way of determining which other pieces of knowledge I possess lack the critical component of comprehension that would prevent another incident of any nature. I suppose there really is no way to know that sort of thing in advance though, is there? Perhaps that awareness is one more thing I am supposed to take away from my experiences as of late. Something tells me this time in my life will be most interesting to look back on in a few years and I may very well still be pulling things from it when I do. You just never know.

Captured At:1409

:: bounces head along with non-existent music ::

Is it a bad thing when you’re tired even in your dreams? I dozed off leaning on someone sitting next to me in mine last night. When my alarm went off this morning I was still tired, so I shut it off and decided I’d go back to sleep trusting that I would wake up again in time to still get to work and somehow be more rested. Thinking of it now I’m amazed that actually worked.

This “I’m not going grocery shopping” thing has got to be fixed. That was my conclusion as I shuffled around the kitchen this morning. I couldn’t find anything quick or within reach to grab as I went out the door, so I threw an entire box of Frosted Mini-Wheats into my backpack. Most people would have at least found a bag or something, but not me. It’s now sitting here between my laptop and third monitor, open, slowly being emptied of its slightly stale contents. I honestly have to laugh at myself sometimes. I wasn’t taking much seriously this morning and I was okay with that.

Last night when I was talking to Melissa I somehow got on the topic of enemies. For the first time in a long time I don’t feel I have any. I know there are people I no longer see who don’t especially like me, but that’s very different from seething anger and hatred. I also can’t think of a single person I harbour any of those feelings for right now. Being a decent human being was more important and is what led me to take a first step at graduation that meant more to the person I was dealing with than I’d know until much later. The others I have made efforts with may not see them for what they are, but I’m okay with that. Holding grudges doesn’t do me or anyone else any good. It also dawned on me that while I said I’d never be able to forgive Asshole I don’t feel anger about that situation anymore. I’m not happy with what happened, but at the end of the day I feel bad for him more than anything else. Realizing all of this was good for me.

Maybe that’s why I’m in a better mood today. Or maybe it’s because that unexpected nap this morning was highly effective. Or maybe it’s because I can still look at myself and laugh. Whatever the reason, I’m thankful for it.

I still don’t like that I’m cooped up inside today. Melissa was IMing me from under a palm tree on campus yesterday afternoon because she could. I miss having that sort of freedom and told her I’ll save up some hours so I can take her up on that invitation to go play with her one day before she graduates. I could go to class and see how long it takes before she randomly bursts out laughing in the middle of lecture. ::laughs:: Because I so need to lose more points with people like Stansifer and Ribiero…

Wow, I’ve eaten a lot of these aging shredded wheat squares. What the heck is wrong with me? ::laughs again:: Plenty I’m sure. Mmm…tastes like cardboard.

Moving on…

Captured At:1220

la fine

Sue and Carolyn have just left with the last "Have a good night" I will ever hear from them. Tomorrow is their last day; the wonderful world of retirement spread before them a year and a half ahead of schedule. In the last week their office has slowly emptied. There will soon be more empty desks in this room than ones in use. I asked if it has sunk in yet, but they seem ready to go. I, on the other hand, have this terrible feeling I’ll be lucky if I don’t cry when I say good-bye for good. It doesn’t make much sense given that I’ve known them less than a year, most of which was spent with a wall between us. Can anybody tell me when I became such a sap?

Endings, for me, have always been difficult. It’s almost better for something to come to its conclusion without notice than for me to know that on a specific day it will be over. That not only makes the time leading up to the final moment difficult, but the moment itself and many after it because I’m reminded of how it ended. I’d rather drift apart from friends than know that after a certain meeting I’ll never hear anything of them again.

I can’t say I know where this comes from. Perhaps, in part, it is because I’ve always been strongly aware of the passage of time. There’s a fun story about my Aunt ruining New Years Eve one year because she had me in tears for at least an hour when I learned that it meant the old year was gone. When I graduated college I was told about when I graduated nursery school and how I stood with my classmates crossing my arms and refusing to sing because I somehow thought that if I didn’t sing along I wouldn’t have to graduate.

Looking at Carolyn and Sue brings about a huge mix of emotions. I see myself clearing out my desk and getting ready to leave a place I’ve spent so much of my life at for the very last time like they are. I wonder how the heck this mess I’m in gets cleaned up and where I’m going from here. I wish I could be a day away from freedom too. I question where life will find me when it’s time for me to end that chapter and what will have taken place between now and then.

I don’t know what to make of it all. Again I’m torn between being amazed by the possibilities and terrified that I don’t have a more concrete idea of what lies ahead and lack any way of getting one. ::shakes head::

Bada ba ba… Moving on…

Captured At:1547