Liliane

So much for that

Fri, 14 Jan 2005 07:41:31 GMT

I really thought that I would write more, but the story of my life is too many aspirations and too little time. I did buy that journal though, and I write and doodle in it sometimes. I also paste in photos and trash that I find on the street. It has become one of my most valued possessions.

Tonight, I did something very exciting and invigorating, yet terrifying at the same time. Which is why I am sitting here typing in my online journal instead of getting a good night's sleep with the intent of being on time to work tomorrow.

I realized last summer that my inability to be assertive was really hampering my life. So, my first milestone on the road to becoming more assertive was to stand up to my boss, and I have to say that it went quite well. I was very nervous beforehand and wanted to chicken out. I even contemplated finding a new job instead of confronting him. In the end, I told him how I felt and although things didn't go exactly as I wanted, I felt like a huge weight had been lifted off of me by the time I finished.

This summer, I also began seeing a boy named John. He is in the graphic design department with me at school. I had a huge crush on him, but wanted to take it slow since I hadn't been out of my last relationship very long. I also wasn't sure how he felt about me, and I did not want to tell him how I felt if it was not reciprocated. I couldn't stand the embarrassment of seeing him in class everyday afterwards.

Unfortunately, taking it slow led nowhere and then school started and he was very busy. He is quite the over achiever and is involved in many extracurricular activities. He always seemed glad to hear from me, but rarely had anytime to spend together. I drove myself crazy trying to analyze everything he said and did, in order to decode whether he was interested but busy, or trying to be nice while blowing me off.

Long story short, I saw a movie with him tonight and had coffee afterwards. I wanted to tell him how I felt but chickened out. Afterwards, I thought that I would just call him and get it over with once and for all. It took me ten minutes to work up the nerve, when I finally dialed his number, I thought my heart would pound right out of my chest. My hands are still shaking as I type this now. I held my breath and listened to each ring with increased anxiety. He didn't answer, it went to his voicemail. At first I was relieved, I didn't have to do it but no one could accuse me of not trying. Then I realized how silly that was, and if I was this worked up and nervous now, I would really rather not go through it again. So I took a few minutes and wrote out a quick draft of what I would say. I called him back and left the message on his voicemail.

Of course I worry about the worst case scenerios. I imagine tomorrow, he has a good laugh at my expense and then replays it for all of his friends. But I know in my heart that he is too nice of a guy to ever do that. I think the real worse case scenerio is that he is dating someone, wants to date someone else, or is just plain not interested in me. But you know, I can live with that. It beats the anxiety of trying to double guess and reinterpret his every move.

I am proud of myself, even if it is a silly thing to be proud of.

2 years

Sat, 13 Nov 2004 08:51:09 GMT

It has been two long years since I've written anything of substance. I have the desire to write again, but am unsure about how to jump back in. Tomorrow I think I will go buy a journal because I used to write down my thoughts during the day and expand on them in the livejournal at night.

I'm at this very weird time in my life where I am struggling to reinvent myself. And by reinvent, I mean doing new things but also returning to things that I used to love...like writing. I have been slowly getting to know a man who is both inspiring and intimidating at the same time. He has his own website where he writes wonderful journal entries and posts photos every month. I'm really quite in awe. We have met over the internet, but I am not sure if I will meet him in person. Maybe it is better than I let him affect me from a distance.

For the first time in a long time I am single. Not technically single but still seeing an old boyfriend, but really single. It's difficult and scary, but empowering. I'm at the phase of my life where most of my friends are settling down and getting married. I like the fact that I am going my own way. I just hope that I can make the most of my new found free time by writing, taking pictures, drawing, and maybe, finally, reaching the point where I can consider myself an artist of some sort.

Those are my thoughts this late night. I wish that I could draw a big line under this entry to signify the new beginning. Hopefully, next time I write, I'll have a little more to say.

Fri, 20 Aug 2004 06:14:18 GMT

First day back to school and it poured all day. I used an umbrella for one of the few times in my life, and felt very grown up.

Wed, 11 Aug 2004 05:56:38 GMT

Last night, I watched a movie and then went upstairs to my room. For some reason, my apartment didn't seem like my own. It was as if nothing was real. I tried to remember a sense of HOME at my mom's but it was too long ago.

It was like I had forgotten who I was.

Peter Pan

Wed, 04 Aug 2004 23:31:23 GMT

During my teenage years of high school, I observed more and more of the people around me pairing off into couples. No one seemed that interested in me, at least no one that I was particularly found of. I do remember my junior year, one boy trying rather hard to date me. I received a few mixed tapes during the experience. I thought about him, I thought about me and him, and then I thought of my future with him, and finally I thought so much that he asked out one of my best friends instead.
I was a mystery to my friends because while I was so insecure about relationships, at the same time I was completely boy crazy. I had tons of crushes on boys that I barely knew. Usually upper classmen that I had seen in a play, or sat across the room from me in class.
It took me awhile, but I finally realized that all of these impossible crushes added up to a defense mechanism that kept me from getting close to one person.
Right now, this was supposed to be a big summer for me. I was going to work on art and finally find my "voice".
I took a belly dancing class which was fun, but I never practiced outside of class. I enrolled in an evening ceramics class, but I was so tired after work that I never put much into it. I took a few photos, visited the drag shows, but during all of this I felt like I was spinning my wheels. I never found my niche.
Standing at work today, I thought about all of the interests I have. Dance, photography, drawing, painting, ceramics, film, acting.......the list goes on. I think that it is good to have varied interests, but I have so many that it is preventing me from pursuing one to its fullest. To really find out what I can do with it.
Flash back to high school, my senior year I was leaving school and had to walk all the way to the end of the building to the exit by the sophomore lot. I ran into Nels by the auditorium, pacing, waiting to give a speech to the debate tournament participants. I had had a few classes with him but we barely knew each other. He stopped me to say hello, and gave me this hug. I can't explain what it was about the hug, but there was this instant connection. I almost thought that he would kiss me, but he held back. We started dating the next week and spent the next two years together.
I think that for now, I need to pursue a committed relationship with one art discipline. I need to really get to know it, become comfortable with it, and decide if it is right for me. If not, then I can date another art. Hopefully one day I'll have a list of art disciplines that I am proficient in, just like my list of ex boyfriends. Instead of a box of love notes and ticket stubs to remember them, I'll have portfolios full of photographs, drawings, etc. Now I just need to stop thinking so much, and decide which art I want to be with right now and hopefully the rest will work itself out.

Fri, 11 Jul 2003 20:19:34 GMT

My life is nothing but a series of contradictions. It begins every morning as I take my prenatal vitamin right after my birth control pills.

Wed, 09 Jul 2003 19:20:10 GMT

I was looking through my closet at the ridiculous amount of jeans that I have, but only a fraction of them fit me.

I still have the size 9 jeans that I wore in high school. They didn't fit me then either, but I wore them baggy with my grandpa's old flannel shirts.

I also have a bunch of size 3 jeans in response to all of the baggy jeans that I was tired of wearing. I can still fit into them, and they're tight in the butt and look good, but they are too tight in the stomach. Therefore I can only wear them with long shirts.

Not to mention, I still have the jeans that I bought in Italy. Everyone there wears their jeans so tight and I got caught up in it. Now I keep them around for special occassions and for sentimental value.

The problem is that I've kept so many of the jeans that the bar in my closet is starting to bow. And you know, it's not just my jeans. I do the same things with ex-boyfriends. I guess I'm hoping that although they don't fit now, maybe I'll grow into them later.

Just think, if we played by the rules... we'd be in gym class right now.

Thu, 14 Nov 2002 22:31:58 GMT

Lately, I've been feeling what I call restlessness. I often feel this way when going through change. My last big bout of it was when my friends went away to college after high school. I was left living at home and going to school at JCCC. I was so depressed; I remember crying because I felt like I had been left behind. I didn't feel like I was connected to anything anymore.

Slowly, I adjusted. I was on a mission. I became a vice president of Phi Theta Kappa and started playing frisbee in the afternoons in the courtyard. It wasn't too long before I could walk across campus at anytime of the day and see someone that I knew. Around the same time, I saw a friend of mine from high school and we realized it had been a couple months since we had gotten the chance to really talk. One night, I went out to dinner with her and a couple other "school friends" from high school. They were all going to JCCC but I never saw them on campus. I had so much fun, I thought it would be a good idea to do it every week. For the next two years we had Girls' Dinner every Sunday night. It was great. Not everyone could go every week, but there was about eight of us total, so you could trust that dinner would be going on every week. We did that for two years and then they all left for Emporia to become teachers. I didn't know what I wanted to do, so I stayed at JCCC. I started hanging out with a group of friends from the theatre dept. Our meetings were a little less structured, but I always knew that there would be something going on every weekend that I could join in on. Unfortunately, they all just left this semester to become various things at K-State.

And now I'm at KU. I have a few friends, but no actual group. It takes a lot more effort to make plans socially, and most of my friends are graduating in the spring. I'm already starting to worry about what I'll do next year.

And I've been battling this restlessness. It isn't boredom, I'm way too busy to ever be bored. It is this discontent. I want to change my life, I want to feel connected to people around me, but I don't know how. I had been thinking that I needed a vacation, but it is impossible due to time and money.

So, on Tuesday night, I was talking to my boyfriend on the phone. It was after midnight. He was in Springfield, MO where he had been working all week, and the week before, for that matter. It's not like I see him that much during the week, but I hate not having the option of seeing him. And a lot of stuff had happened on Monday and we had been talking on the phone, but I really wanted to see him in person.

He said his usual, "So, when are you going to get here?" suggesting that I drive to Springfield. I always dismiss this with the excuse of school and work. But we had been having such a 'butterflies in your stomach' type of conversation, and he even told me that he wanted to marry me in the future. By this time it was almost 1:00 am, and he told me that I could be in Springfield by 4:00 am, we could cuddle for a few hours and he could go to work while I slept in. Then we could have lunch at this little coffee shop that he has been hanging out at all week, and I could go back to work with him and use his laptop to do my homework. When he got off, we could go to a movie or to the Bass Pro Shop......

I could imagine it all in my mind and it was very tempting. Then he added that I had been talking about needing a vacation. Not that Springfield in a vacation but it is defintely a break in routine. I knew it was crazy but I got out of bed and started packing an overnight bag. I announced to my roommate that I was being spontaneous, and would be back in a day or two. And I was off, well minus the trip to the gas station. I walked in wearing my pajamas, bought a Coke, candy bar, and a box of condoms. The cashier smiled at me and asked me what was going on tonight. I just smiled back sheepishly in return.

Robert kissed me as soon as I got to his hotel, and it was exciting, like everything had been heightened by our commitment to each other. I imagine that it is similar to the first time we will get to make love as husband and wife. But that is the overly romantic coming out in me. The rest went as he had planned, and he even got off work early. It was a great day, and every once in awhile, I'd think about what I would be doing at that time if I hadn't come.

That's why while I was sitting at work today, folding mailers which is possibly one of the most boring tasks I could ever be assigned, I smiled as I thought about yesterday. I know I can't be irresponsible like that all the time, but it was definitely worth it.

A Poor Man's Carrie

Tue, 01 Oct 2002 20:43:28 GMT

I knew that it was emotionally dangerous to go to Marc's apartment this weekend. No matter how I rationalize all the reasons to not have feelings for him, they keep popping up. I hadn't planned to go to his apartment, and I don't want to be his buddy. I just really needed help on my design project and he was the only one I could turn to.

He meets me outside his apartment eating a carmel apple, and gives me a big kiss on the cheek which I wipe off. We get along okay, and talk design over appetizers at Houlihan's. As far as the design stuff goes, his help is invaluable. Somehow I had worked my way into a box and couldn't see to get out. His solutions were very simple, things I should have been able to do but couldn't.

Last week I pretty much talked myself into changing my major to journalism. The idea is that I can learn design, but I'll have to work really hard and I will probably always struggle with it. But I could major in strategic communications in journalism, then work at an advertising firm. I'd be able to come up with the basic designs but not be responsible for constructing it. Or maybe I'd be a copy-writer working side by side with the designers. Anyway, I see myself as a better writer than designer, so why not improve what I'm good at? Besides, I could always try to learn the design on my own. I had been thinking about getting my bachelors in journalism, then going for an associates in graphic design at a community college or vocational school. Something that I could do a little at a time while working.

Back to Marc. We were sitting at the restaurant and he mentioned that he was going to have to do this twice because Carrie (his girlfriend) was doing a similar project at the community college. Apparently she got her degree in magazine journalism, and now she's going to JCCC for communication design.

Then it hit me. Carrie is the new and improved Jaime. I always thought that Marc and I had this bond that no one else could touch. We had so much in common, knew each other so well, etc. I realized then and there that he probably doesn't even think about what we had anymore. I think he is still physically attracted to me (well I know that), but what he has with Carrie is probably so much more than what he ever had with me.

We walked around the Plaza for a little while talking. He could tell that something was wrong, but thought I was just frustrated with my project or deciding on a major. We walk through the parking garage to get back to his apartment when Carrie pulls up with one of her female friends. I had never felt so small, insecure, and insignificant. I wanted to melt into the asphalt and drain away.

Marc lets them park and I follow him towards his apartment, but stop before and tell him that I'm going to leave. He protests, and brings up the things we were going to do on the computer when we got back, but I dismiss it with a "it doesn't matter".

He follows me all the way to my car, asking me why I'm leaving. I tell him not to play dumb because he knows the answer. He makes some comment about only being able to be friends with me when she's not around. I tell him that it's nothing against her...I don't even know her, but I don't want to hang out with them. I have no problem meeting her, but I don't want to sit around his apartment and make small talk. He finally gives up and runs back to Carrie and her friend.

I drive away alone, perplexed about all of the hurt running through me. I call my friend Sarah and ask her how it is possible that I feel this way. I love Robert so much, so why does this even bother me. Sarah makes some comment about it is still rejection no matter what, and that's why I hurt. It pacificies me a little, but I still have this feeling in the pit of my stomach as I drive home. When I get there, Robert is lying on my bed. We cuddle as he looks at me with his big, dark eyes. I know he loves me too, and I just hope that I don't mess things up.

So, it's September 11th

Wed, 11 Sep 2002 21:29:37 GMT

Yesterday, I was sitting at work and writing out a check to the UPS worker and suddenly I stopped when I got to the date. I knew that this day was approaching, but it hadn't really sunk in. This day is a reminder to me that at any moment, everything I know could change.

Later that night as my roommate and I watched the news, he asked me if I thought there would be another attack. I told him that I could imagine anything happening tomorrow. My life had ceased feeling real a long time ago.

*****************

I remember running to the tv in the corner lounge at JCCC. The tears falling down my face as I watched the towers collapse in real time. My ex-boyfriend was watching. I looked at him, and I wanted to tell him that I was sorry. I wanted him to put his arms around me and wipe away my tears. To push away all the bad feelings and come together, if only for a moment, and recognize how much we have meant to each other. How much everyone means. When I looked back, he was walking away.

I wanted to be in New York, I wanted to help. To organize people, to bring information. I wanted to have a purpose. To be apart of something that was bigger than myself. Sometimes being in a relationship helps to feel that void. That need to belong to something.

******************

A year has gone by, and I am remembering all of the emotions that I felt that day. I wonder if I am spending my life as I should. I want to be involved in what is going on in the world. But how? I wouldn't know where to begin. So, as I sit in Lawrence, KS, I wonder how I can change that. Maybe I should change my major to journalism, and at least I could be involved in some sense. Maybe I should just pick up and move and see what the universe throws in front of my path.

I blame Mrs. Bingham. When I was in fifth grade, she told my mom that I was the type of person who would make a difference in the world. That she will remember me in the future when she reads my name in the newspaper. I always wanted that to come true. Not for her, but for me. I want to make a difference, to impact people's lives.

So, why am I always so scared to try?

Death, Life, and Love

Thu, 29 Aug 2002 06:25:59 GMT

A guy that I went to high school with died. George Curts. He was a year older than me and lived one block away. I never met him until I was a freshman in high school. He came to my house trick-or-treating. I was really big into karate then and along with candy, I was giving away a coupon for a free karate lesson to drum up business for my school. George either called me or stopped by my house again to ask me if it was me who had put it in his bag. I said yes, and took him with me to a lesson, but in the end he didn't join. He was afraid of getting injured there. He was on the varsity football team and ran track, and didn't want to risk a season for karate.

After that, I never really saw him. He was very popular, and I was shy and awkward in high school. He was extremely intelligent and after graduation he went off to Stanford. He finished his bachelors degree in religious studies in four years, and was going to start grad school this semester. And on top of all that, he had just gotten engaged. If there is an award for most successful, he'd definitely be up for it at the class reunion.

George died a week and a half ago. August 17 to be exact. He was mountain hiking in rough terrain in California with another guy I knew from high school. He slipped on some gravel and fell 200 feet to his death. My boyfriend knew him better than I did; they were pretty close in high school although they hadn't seen each other much since. Robert went to the visitation. There he grabbed a single tissue from the kleenex box and kept balling it up in his hand although he never broke down and cried. He doesn't really cry about anything.

At the visitation, Robert met a lot of George's family that he had never met before and his fiance. I had thought about going with him, and would have gone to the funeral but after making it through the visitation, Robert didn't really want to go. Even though I didn't know George that well, I know that I would have started balling, so I'm kind of glad that I wasn't there.

George's death really got me thinking about my own life. I never hope to be as successful or charismatic as George was, but I hope that I can live my life to the fullest, and leave happy. I like to think that he did.

And you know, lately I have been really happy. So happy that it scares me sometimes. It makes me wonder how long that it can last, but I push those thoughts aside. Right now, I am living on my own in an apartment with a roommate that I get along with (except for when he eats the last of the oreos). I have some really great friends that actually care about me, as opposed to, people that I just hang out with to kill the time. And of course, there's Robert. I fall more and more in love with him each day. At first I wasn't sure if we would work. I was really caught up in the fact that we don't have a lot in common. Somehow over the last few weeks we've started to grow into each other. We've started talking more when we're by ourselves, and I've noticed that his friends aren't so bad. I just hadn't realized that I had been comparing them to my theatre friends the whole time. These people live for talking and being the center of attention. All of my friends think that Robert is adorable and have commented on how much we seem in love, or fit together. When Robert looks at me, he really seems to have love in his eyes.

As my roommate Tai and I were driving to the grocery store the other day, I told him rather matter-of-factly, that I thought that Robert was going to want to marry me in the future. Tai responded that he thought that Robert probably already did. Tai says that I'm really loyal, and when I'm with a boyfriend, I really want to be around him. That, and I have "wild monkey sex" with him all the time, so why wouldn't he want to marry me.

In my short life, I've had two boyfriends try to marry me, and with each of them I felt reservation. They were both men that I 'loved', but I wondered if there was something else out there. The idea of marrying them made me feel trapped.

With Robert, I don't feel trapped. When I look into his eyes, I see a man who loves me and wants the best for me. Someone who is never jealous or controlling, but also not too apathetic or distant. He may get moody sometimes and really piss me off, but he does realize when he does that and how it affects our relationship. In the past, I've had rough times with boyfriends and after I called them, I only felt worse. But with Robert, whenever we get to talk things through, I feel 100% better. And there really hasn't been that much to talk out, but the few times that there has been I've felt much better, even lighter after we talked. Couples always boast about communication, and I think this is really what it is all about.

Why all the talk about love? I don't know. I think I want to marry Robert, but I haven't told him that yet. I never thought that I would feel this way. Usually it's the guy who gets serious and I feel wishy-washy. I don't know, things are just going so great that I want to celebrate it. What better celebration than a wedding?

The End of a Year

Wed, 14 Aug 2002 23:13:03 GMT

I began this journal after I took a position at JCCC that was not very laborous and gave me a computer permanently connected to the internet sitting in front of me. I have since turned in my resignation, and currently have two more shifts to work until I'm finished. I've been thinking a lot about this last year and how quickly it has flown by yet again.

My friend Blake once proposed the idea, what if we got a report card for every year of our life? What would we be graded on, how well did we spend our time, what did we learn, and finally...what would our grade be.

Last summer- I started working here at JCCC as a Career Information Specialist after getting back from a trip to Maine. From Maine, I brought back a teddy bear, film, sea shells, and the decision to break up with my boyfriend. Spending so much time with another man really drove home the ideas of what I wanted a relationship to be like and I broke up with Zach.

Not long after that, Acacia and I renewed our friendship with an intensity similar to dating but without the sex. I would call her to see what WE were doing that weekend. I think we spoke every single day, and if we did happen to go a few days without, then we had to catch each other up on our lives.

Then I started dating a string of very nice, but ill-suited men. I made up nicknames for them and told stories about my dating mishaps. All the while, I was getting introduced and trained on more career information and started trying to decide what I wanted to do with my life. I even wrote a column about it in our monthly newsletter (surprise, surprise).

October- Zach and I started talking again. He was being so wonderful around me that I forgot why we broke up. I started ditching my other friends to spend time with him, and then freaked out when I realized what I was doing and broke it off.

I started to spend more and more time with a group of friends from JCCC. They have all been friends since high school or before, and even now I still feel like an outsider when I am around the group of them. But I enjoy their company in ones, twos, and threes.

Brad and I also rekindled a friendship, only after I made him dress up in drag and go to the Granada with me and some girls to make up for the fact that he had stopped talking to me for over six months. I'm still kind of surprised that he did it, but he did prove his committment to our friendship.

Christmas- Zach wrote me an e-mail to say happy holidays and let me know that he didn't want to fight anymore. I conceeded that I would like to get to know him again and be in his life. It would too ambitious to assume that we could jump into a platonic friendship, and I definitely wasn't ready to get back together, but for some reason, I really wanted him around.

I started to apply for colleges, after deciding to go through with my earlier plans of majoring in graphic design. I concentrated on big cities, narrowing down Boston and Chicago as my first and second choice. I wanted to go somewhere where I would have the best chance at internships to establish contacts in my field while going to school. Plus I just wanted to move away and start over.

January/February- Zach and I get back together, and I'm still not quite sure how that one happened. I had to break the news to Acacia, who hated Zach, and our friendship begins to get strained no matter how hard I tried to make sure that didn't happen.

Spring Break- Acacia and I leave for Rome along with my good friend Sarah who accompanied me on the Florence trip last year. My first day there, I hated the city and I had this sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach that I had just wasted a year's worth of savings. Sarah and I found ourselves comparing it to Florence and commenting on how much better Florence was. Acacia began to feel left out and got into a really bad mood. Although by the next day, Sarah and I loved the city and would rather return there than anywhere else, Acacia still seemed to spend more and more time by herself and just projected the general impression that she didn't want to be around us.

On the upside, I met Carlo who was just wonderful. I had a blast with Sarah, him and his friends. I still have hopes that one day he will propose to me and fly me to Italy.

We return back to the US and back to school, and Acacia starts talking to me less and less. One day while out with her and another mutual friend, Kayla Grace, I realized that she knew more about Acacia's daily life than I did. I felt that I had been replaced as her best friend.

Boston rejects my application, and I take it very hard. Now I am faced with the prospect of staying in town for the next few years, and with Zach.

Chicago accepts me, but I still have many things up in the air. I've pretty much settled to the fact that I'm never going to accomplish anything and will live in Kansas for the rest of my life, and I'm scared of the possibility of actually succeeding at something.

Zach and my relationship goes downhill. I begin the arduous task of deciding if I should break up with him. It is much harder than last time.

May 17- My birthday sucked, it was the most anticipated and worst birthday ever. I attribute Zach with the majority of my miserableness and break up with him the very next day. Plus I had been compiling an arsenal of other reasons why I should break up with him anyway. My birthday was just the bit of motivation that I needed.

Acacia and I try to talk to each other, and go out to dinner every once in awhile, but it feels like we're only trying to stay friends out of obligation to each other.

June- I start dating Robert, and things get serious after I take a trip up to Chicago to register for classes. My financial aid never goes through, and I will in fact, be staying in Kansas, but making that trip was the best thing I could have done. I am no longer afraid of moving away after I finish school and am hopeful that I will one day become successful, and I wont be suffocating in financial debt since I will have finished my degree at an in-state school.

August- I move into my new apartment! I am broke but happy. I e-mailed Acacia while she was out of town, asking for repayment of money that I loaned her during our trip to Italy. She has not spoken to me since, and although I am not positive that the two events are related....but still, I have to assume. I feel that right now, perhaps the money is worth more to her than my friendship, and I will not be hearing from her anymore.

So, that's where I am now. I no longer speak to Zach, and in fact, pinky swore to Brad that I would never ever date him again. I really mean it, too. I realize how destructive that relationship was, but I feel like it was something that I had to do and make it through, in order to not make that mistake again.

My grade- perhaps breaking up with Zach was one of my big assignments this year, but yet I did make the same mistake twice and turned in my assignment late....so I give myself a C.

As far as school goes, I worked really hard to decide on my major, I pursued some schools out of state, made the decision that it would be better to stay in-state. Plus, I have a clear goal to work on in the fall. I have also pursued a lot of friendships, started working out, read some books, took a painting class, made a lot of photos, saved enough money for a trip to Italy and lots more. With all of that in mind, I think I should raise my overall grade from a C to a B for the year. Because even if I did make some mistakes, I have learned a lot, and that should be the most important thing. Besides tests are just for parents, and deadlines are for teachers.

Block 17, Garden of Tranquility

Fri, 19 Jul 2002 14:20:30 GMT

is where my great grandmother lies. I took the day off work to go to the funeral. Since my father was still on his honeymoon, my mom and grandma went with me so I wouldn't have to drive up there alone. That was a mistake.

I just sort of felt like being alone and regretted not doing so. I finally made it into St. Joseph and my mom started complaining about having to pee and couldn't wait even though the funeral was going to start in 10-15 minutes. So I start looking for somewhere to stop and settle for Hardees. Then we kept driving, and driving, and I decide that I had to have missed the turn. I turn around and then my grandma tells me that she has a map and that the street I am looking for does not cut through to the street that I am on. She tells me to turn on a different one and gets me incredibly lost. I stop for directions once, but it still didn't help. Finally, I find my way back to where I started, and started taking my directions again even though they both protested that it couldn't be right. Well, it was right, I had just missed it the first time through, probably when I was looking for somewhere that my mom could pee. The funeral was a graveside service scheduled for 11:00 am, and I finally pulled up about a quarter to 12:00. Everyone was gone except for the men who work there who began to lower her into the ground right as I parked.

I sat there, in my car, mesmerized. The efficiency of their actions, everyone knew what they should do, everything had a place...I just couldn't stop watching. The men were simply doing their job and they were talking and laughing, so I stayed in my car and silently began to cry. Now I really wished that I was alone. I think my grandma was crying also but none of us spoke. I sat there for at least half an hour, until I realized that I was in the way of the dirt truck. We left to go buy some flowers. Except for the spray that had been on her casket, there were no flowers for her. I hope that someone had attended the funeral.

I stopped at an Earl May, although not the most logical choice but the one I wanted. I used to work in a greenhouse, and there's something about walking through the rows of live plants in the sunshine that calms my spirit. I picked out a potted begonia and headed back to the cementary. The men were just finishing up and left shortly after. All three of us got out and stood around the grave. My grandma picked me a flower from her spray so that I might dry it. I didn't really want one, but my grandma seemed to want to get me one so I let her.

I said my silent apologies although I didn't really feel that close to my great-grandmother. I remember visiting the grave of my cousin Scott, and it felt like his presence was there. Like a meeting place. Maybe I had imagined it, because I didn't feel anything today. We walked around the cementary a bit, then left to go home.

Once there, I laid down on the couch and passed out. I didn't even realize but soon an hour and a half had passed. I was in the deepest sleep. My mom woke me up to tell me that she was going to run some errands and would call me for directions. I asked her to set the alarm clock for me before she left.

That night was my "moving-on" celebration with my co-workers from school. It was originally planned when it was thought that I would be moving out of state, but they still threw me a party because I would be moving on from JCCC. I had invited my mom and my boyfriend to attend.

I woke up about an hour before the dinner, and called him. I asked him if he was still going with me and he said he wasn't sure. His friend Lana had come back into town from studying abroad (i think) and everyone was getting together to welcome her back. I told him that he didn't have to come to my dinner if he didn't want to, and he said that he didn't think he would. I was a little surprised. I was only saying that to be polite. I figured that he would at least come by for awhile. My dinner was right down the street from his parents' house where he was staying. He could have driven himself and stayed for an hour or so and then driven to Lawrence. I mean, come on, the bars are open until 2am and my party started at 5:30, so there was plenty of time to do both.

His phone cut out after that, I found out later that he had been in Sam's Club. He didn't call me back for over an hour and by then I was at my party. He told me that he was heading up to Lawrence and I was a little upset, but couldn't say anything at the time.

My mom never called me at all. She spent the evening with her boyfriend instead, surprise surprise. Here I was, the guest of honor, and no one even came with me. What a depressing day.

I wasn't sure if it was something that I could really get mad at my boyfriend over. He says that he loves me, but I figured that I should probably remind myself that we've only been dating for a month and a half, and I probably shouldn't expect much. I also decided that maybe I should remind myself not to put too much into the relationship, i.e. try not doing stuff with him all the time and keep my friendships strong.

I was definitely mad at my mom. She does this to me all the time. Sometimes I wonder if she secretly hates me because she has a way of letting me down a lot. She knew it was important to me, we had made plans days in advance for her to be there, but oh well. It's not like I can make her care.

As I left Judi's house later that night (I was the last to leave), she gave me a hug and told me not to worry about neither of them coming. She'd be my surrogate mom. Her daughter had been there at my party, she's only a year or two older than me. I watched them and how they interacted, and I wish that Judi could be my mom. I hope that when I'm older and have my own family that I am a lot like her.

It's been a couple days since all of this has happened, but I'm still a little depressed when I think about it. It feels like this is the kind of stuff that makes up my life. How I've kept a good attitude about my disposition this long is beyond me.

Last night my friend Louis called and asked me how my father's wedding was. I replied that it was poop, and he started to laugh. He said, well, it couldn't have been that bad...you don't sound that upset. I said oh, it was that bad, but I just have a good sense of humor about this joke I call my life and told him that I would fill him in later. I mean, it is kind of funny when you think about it, just not funny for me to live it. But who am I kidding, if my life was different/better then how would I have anything to write about.

Laziness makes me a far worse person

Wed, 17 Jul 2002 05:05:57 GMT

My father's grandmother is Myrtle. I never saw her much growing up, she lived in St. Joseph, MO. So we drove up there only a couple times a year at most. I was 15 the last time I went there. My parents were in the middle of a divorce and I didn't want to have anything to do with my dad. I vaguely remember having lunch with her and then driving home. For the next few years she never forgot me on my birthday or Christmas. She sent a card to my dad which he passed to me. I kept telling myself that I should write to her, send her some pictures. I saved the envelope with her return address time and time again, but never got around to it. My father used to tell me that I should go up there with him sometime. Sometime. But I never committed to a date. My father and I both work a lot, with very different schedules. This last year, I worked literally 7 days a week. I'd have to take off work to go, which requires planning, which I never did. I never went and saw her again.

On Tuesday, she had a stroke. At 91, she was still very independent and lived alone in her own apartment. There she laid until someone finally found her on Friday. She had hurt her arm and it was operated on in the hospital right away. After she was stabilized, she was taken off of life support, because it was her wish.

She died on Sunday.

The Sheriff came by while I was in Texas for my dad's wedding to tell everyone. My dad went ahead and got married, which isn't so bad...he'd already made all the arrangements. But instead of coming back to see her once more before she died, he went on his honeymoon. He wont even cut it short to make it to the funeral.

I feel horrible about the whole thing.

When I got back into town, I went over to check on my dad's dog and there was a note in the mailbox from some distant relative about Myrtle being in the hospital. I called and talked to him, and he was the one who told me that she had passed on Sunday. He also called the next day to tell me about the funeral tomorrow.

Even though I wont know anyone there, I'm going to go to the funeral. I know it's too late to make it up to Myrtle, and I feel horrible. I don't know what I believe about death and an afterlife, but I hope she knows that I am sorry. Perhaps her spirit will be with us at the funeral.

28 Decorative Elvis Plates

Mon, 15 Jul 2002 14:52:09 GMT

My father is out of my wedding and Elvis will walk me down the aisle.

I flew to Texas over the weekend for his wedding. I didn't want to go, but felt obligated for some reason. I didn't want to see his family. They have never been a part of my life and I wouldn't be able to recognize any of them if they passed me on the street. But I sucked it up and went anyway.

I arrived early Friday afternoon, and spent the rest of it driving my dad's truck around town so that his mom could do all the errands she needed to, like picking up the tux and cake. It was a little stressful because she was horrible at giving directions and always telling me to turn too late, meaning lots of u-turns. She was nice enough I guess, but I didn't really feel like making small talk. I answered politely when spoken to, but didn't really make an effort to get to know her. I still hold a grudge that she was not a part of my life as I was growing up.

After that, I went to the guest bedroom. The furniture was that shiny 80s black and there were Elvis plates on one wall, not to mention all of the Elvis pictures, posters, bookmarks, etc. It was strange.

There I slept until it was time to go to dinner. We went to Joe's Crab Shack, and by then my dad's sister and her two daughters joined us. They're both really close in age to me, but we don't really have a lot in common. They think that my dad is the greatest guy in the world and commented that they wished he was their dad. They can have him as far as I'm concerned. Plus they're Christians. Not just Christians, but you know, the scary ones who only read novels from the Christian bookstore and have the Jesus fish on their car. They're the type who will try to constantly bring Jesus up in a conversation and push their beliefs onto you.

After we got back to the house, I told my dad that I would take him out for a drink. He didn't get to do the whole bachelor party thing, and I figured it would be something nice for the two of us to do before he gets married and starts his new family and forgets who I am. Unfortunately Iryena, his fiance, had a fit. She wouldn't let him go and he didn't stand up to her. I was sitting outside on the driveway talking to my boyfriend on the phone, when the two of them went to take a walk. I told him that he was out of my wedding and he said okay. I said I'd rather have Elvis walk me down the aisle than him, and again, he said okay.

Later that night, he came back out and talked to me. He told me that he wasn't sure that all of this wasn't a mistake and he sort of wished that he had never started it. I told him it wasn't too late to back out. He shouldn't marry her if he doesn't want to. I also wanted to protect the status quo. After my parents got divorced, my father and I fought so much that we stopped talking for three years. It's only in the last couple that we've started to build a relationship. I liked dropping by his house after class and going to lunch with him. Since Iryena has been here, we've only done lunch once and that was for my birthday. I don't feel like I can just drop by whenever I want now, since he has a new family living there.

Back a few months ago, I tried to talk to my dad about all of this. I told him that I was afraid that I wouldn't matter as much after he got married. He basically told me that I wouldn't. He said that from then on, his wife would come first. I think he quoted the bible. I told him that I thought that was a crock. His daughter should come first no matter what, and definitely not second to some mail order bride that he doesn't even know and her daughter that is not his. He disagreed and we haven't talked about it since.

The day of the wedding, as we drove to pick up the flowers, it was just my dad, sister, and I. It sort of felt like old times, before he decided to re-marry. Not that the old times were that great, but sort of comforting in a way. I started to silently cry on the way to the church. I think my dad noticed, but pretended not to.

Once there, I had work to do. I was photographing the wedding, which still makes me mad that I was not in the wedding. The pastor didn't even know that I was family and kept referring to me as Photographer. I had bought a new dress to wear, but was not in any of the pictures. It was a pretty sad day all in all.

The reception was small and at my dad's house. I took my sister and my dad's truck and got lost driving around the town. We finally found the Wal-Mart and got some shoe polish to decorate the truck. It was a really nice gesture, I guess, but I also wanted to make him scrape all of it off later. My sister and I got dinner, then went back to the house so he could leave to go on the honeymoon. I had to spend the night there and his mom drove me to the airport the next morning. I feel sorry for my sister. She's going to be stuck there several more days with Iryena's daughter. I wish that she could have flown home with me, but I think my dad wanted her to stay and watch over her. Katchya is almost the same age as Samantha but acts a lot younger and is not very well behaved. I got into it with her on Friday. She kept trying to climb all over me, and when I told her no, she'd laugh and say that she didn't understand English. I'd then say neit (no in Russian) for emphasis, but she still didn't stop. So, I'd say understand this you little brat.....but then she really didn't know what I was saying.

Oh well, I am back home now. I guess I have to stop wishing that things were better, or at least as they were in the past, and just adjust to how they are going to be now. My father has never really been around that much, and if he decides to phase himself out of my life even more, there's not a whole lot that I can do about it. At least my friends love me, sometimes I feel like they're more family to me than the people that I am related to by blood.

I swear I have to fight them off with a stick!

Wed, 03 Jul 2002 14:04:07 GMT

"I can't believe you're running away to Chicago on me", said Robert the night before I left. Up to this point, we'd been seeing each other pretty casually. We hadn't defined if we were dating or what we were doing and for the first time that didn't bother me. Things were going well, but neither of us knew how long it would last.

So, I ran away to Chicago for a few days to enroll in classes and find an apartment. On the way to the airport I was so nervous about it, I about started crying. I wanted to tell Brad to turn the car around, but I didn't. It was really hard getting off the plane and knowing that there would be no one there waiting for me. I had to find my own way to the train and figure out how to get to campus to check in at the dorms.

And I did, and I was really proud that I had found where I needed to be. There was a slight scare when the kids at the housing desk didn't know who I was or what to do with me, but finally I got settled into a room. There was only one other girl on the whole floor and every time I walked by her room, she was on the phone facing the wall.

By this time I was starving and decided to go get dinner. I figured, I'm in Chicago so I should just be able to walk down the street and find somewhere to eat. This was when I found out that the UIC campus is in the bad part of town. I walked for what seemed like forever, only passing a very scary hot dog stand. There was hardly anyone on the streets or driving by, and the ones who did, looked at me very strangely. I started to get nervous.

Finally I find a Holiday Inn and eat alone in the restaurant and make my way back to the dorms. I get on the phone and let my mom know that I'm alive. Then I call Nels and just ball about how I want to go home. The next morning, I step outside and start walking to another part of campus for orientation. I'm about halfway there when it just starts pouring down rain and the wind is freezing. I don't have an umbrella, I don't even own one and hadn't thought of buying one for the trip. I spend the next ten minutes under the hand dryer in the women's bathroom and still freeze through the first half of orientation.

All that aside, things were going pretty well until I went to see my advisor. There I found out that it would take me four more years to get my bachelors degree. Plus I haven't even been accepted to the graphic design department like I thought I had. I would have to finish my set of first year classes, then submit a portfolio. Only 50 students are accepted into the program each year and it's fairly competitive. And even if I wanted to spend the extra time and try to get my degree there, it would almost undoubtably cost out-of-state tuition the entire time. Illinois has a map grant for all of its residents, worth almost $5,000 a year, so everyone wants to be a resident. I met with my financial aid advisor and she said that she had talked to a girl a few days ago who had lived in Illinois for four years and is still petitioning for in-state residency. So, not only would getting my degree take four years but also cost me upwards of $60,000.

KU started looking pretty good.

The rest of my trip went pretty well. I went on a date with a guy I met at the train, but it turned out to be a bust although I did get to see some fireworks at Navy Pier with him. I went to a few museums and the Sears Tower. I got to meet Rob, who flew up for the last couple days I was there. All in all, I had a lot of fun.

I flew home on Robert's birthday and drove up to Lawrence to meet him and his friends at a bar. I had already told him the bad news about UIC over the phone while I was still in Chicago. He, of course felt bad for me, but he was also kind of glad that I would be staying around.

At the bar, I got to hang out with some of his co-workers and friends that I had never met. I was impressed that they all knew who I was and had heard good things about me although none of them would elaborate at the time. Later when we went back to spend the night at Robert's house, I asked him about it. He said that usually his friends tease him a lot because he's with a different girl every time they see him, but he had told him that he had met someone (me) that makes him not want to be with any other girls.

Then he told me, "Jaime, I think I'm falling in love with you."

I didn't know what to say, but I wasn't going to tell him that I loved him just because I like saying it and hearing it. And he kept talking, and I swear he could not say a wrong thing. He told me that he was glad that I wasn't saying anything. That I shouldn't feel responsible for his feelings. I held him and told him that I cared about him a lot, but I just wanted to take things one step at a time. Then we fell asleep together.

The next day, we laid in bed until 3:00 pm. Then we went and had breakfast at Perkins, and came back to watch a movie on his couch. We laid around some more and I didn't leave until after midnight. We had spent more than 24 hours together, and I still didn't want to leave.

I swear that the last thing I wanted was to jump back into another relationship, but I figured that there was no harm in dating. Dating is casual, you can date more than one person at the same time. And I had no idea that Robert would fall in love with me. And you know, maybe all of this would bother me and I would quit seeing him, but I get those butterflies in my stomach whenever I'm around him or even think about him. I'm happy being hopeless.

"It feels like we've hit another rought spot...",

Mon, 24 Jun 2002 14:14:23 GMT

said Brad, referring to the rotating restaurant we were sitting at overlooking Kansas City. Periodically there would be the slightest misuse of gears and the table would shake a little. But I wasn't thinking about the table or the gears.

Last week Marc "the ex I'm still in love with" called to catch up. He had a busy week planned but wanted to get together for dinner again this upcoming week. I said okay before realizing that I would be in Chicago.

Yesterday, I called him while I was at work to let him know that I wouldn't be in town. We talked for a bit and he told me that he was going to Rent that night with his girlfriend. Of all the luck, Brad and I had tickets to Rent for the very same night.

I rushed home after work and took a little more care and anxiety picking out something to wear. I finally decided on a brown skirt with a black shirt and sandals. I know you're not supposed to mix the two, but I like it.

Brad and I headed off to the play, and it was wonderful. I have seen it before but had almost forgotten just how great it is. The highlight was after the last bows, the band stayed on stage and played one more song. Most everyone was filing out, but Brad and I stayed and half danced, half joked for awhile.

I made it out without running into Marc and figured I was in the clear. I don't know how to explain it, but I'm okay talking to him over the phone. I don't even mind the occassional dinner every once in awhile, but the key is that it's on my terms.

As we were driving away, Brad spied Skies, the rotating restaurant on top of the Hyatt hotel. He'd never been and wanted to go. We get there and they are no longer serving food so only the lounge area is open to sit in and have drinks. Unfortunately it is all full so we wait in the lobby area with some other people. We're looking out over the city when I see someone look at me from the chair. It's Marc doing a double take and his girlfriend is sitting next to him.

My heart missed a beat. He walks over and I introduce him to Brad, all the while not moving from my leaning position against the wall. He makes small talk about the play and tells me to give him a call when I am back in town. I am polite but very reserved. I'm sure anyone could tell how uncomfortable I was. He goes back and they decide to leave. They turn one direction and start walking, only to realize they have to turn around and walk right by us. I'm looking Brad straight in the eyes and talking, so I don't even look at either of them as they passed. I don't know why I did that. I should have waved and smiled at his girlfriend, but instead I ended up looking jealous. Too late now, I guess.

The hostess sits Brad and I in the very same seats that Marc and his girlfriend just left. I don't want to be there at all. I wish that we had never come. Brad feels bad and tries to cheer me up but by then all I want to do is go home and sleep it off.

It is absolutely ridiculous that I still have feelings for Marc. I'm thinking that I should not call him when I get back into town. And if all goes well, I'll be living in Chicago a month later.

I've found an apartment that is only $300 a month. So I'm thinking that even if I don't get enough financial aid, that is so affordable, maybe I should just go and live there for a year. Hopefully I could afford to at least go to school part time, and next year I'd get in-state tuition. I'll check on their requirements when I go to orientation.

It will probably put me another year behind getting my degree which kills me, but at least I will have moved to Chicago. That's kind of like accomplishing something.

I'm still so scared.

And just when the world was making sense.....

Mon, 17 Jun 2002 15:10:14 GMT

The university in Chicago delivered two blows to me this week. There is nothing worse than being a transfer student.

Anyway, I went to orientation on Thursday at KU. I had already paid the orientation fee before Chicago accepted me, and I figured it would be good to have a back up. I had a lot of fun there, but it felt dishonest. Everyone around me was excited and anticipating attending KU in the fall; it was a sort of bonding experience. I sat there knowing that this was only my back-up and Chicago is where I longed to go.

I met a really nice girl, Janet, who is also in the Fine Arts Department. She is my age, and already has an apartment in Lawrence and is looking for another roommate. We exchanged phone numbers, and I figured she would be fun to live with if I end up stuck at KU. I told her I should know very soon if Chicago was going to work out.

Chicago accepted me back in late April, but didn't send a financial aid award letter. After a few weeks, I called and they said if I didn't get it by the second week in June, then I could call back.

Blow#1 I called on Friday, June 14 and they are raising tuition and re-evaluating the awards, so I'm not supposed to get my letter until the first or second week of July. If I wait until then to hear back from Chicago, Janet and the few friends I have who are looking for roommates will have already found them.

Blow #2 The very next day, Housing sent me a letter letting me know that I did not receive a space in the dorms, and although I am on the wait list, I am so far down on it that it is extremely unlikely for me to expect to live there. They made it sound like it was my fault for applying so late. The problem is that they did not accept me until the end of April and at that school, you can not apply unless you are first accepted.

Now, I don't know what to do. I am completely in love with the city of Chicago and the romantic notions of going away to school, turning over a new leaf, etc. I am afraid that if I go to KU, I'll end up living in Kansas for the rest of my life. It would be a lot less scary to move away while I am in school because it would be easy to meet people.

I guess what I need to decide is, how much do I really want to go to school in Chicago? Sometimes I think, well, KU wouldn't be that bad. I've got a lot of friends up there and tuition is extremely affordable. But whenever I start saying those things, I feel like I've already given up on Chicago and all of my dreams. But on the other side, is going to school in Chicago that big of a deal that I would go into immense debt for it and give up all the security of going to school at KU.

If I had known that I would end up at KU, I wish that I had gone there my first year out of high school. I could have gone to orientation with my friends and I'd be getting my degree this upcoming year. The amount of time I've spent on deciding what I want to do and living at home while going to community college wouldn't bother me so much if I felt like I was moving onward and upward.

KU feels like settling and failing. Chicago felt like succeeding and really doing something. If I went to Chicago, I'd probably go back to my high school reunion. If I go to KU, I wont.

I think I need to start buying more lottery tickets. If I won the lottery, I wouldn't worry about tuition or finding an apartment in Chicago, I'd just go. I just wish there was a way for me to get to go to Chicago and do it all on my own.

Back in the Bullpen

Wed, 12 Jun 2002 14:30:33 GMT

About a month or so ago, I wrote about going to a bar with some friends and talking and dancing with a boy named Robert. When I think about how he probably saw me that night, basically drunk and making a fool out of myself, I'm surprised he ever called.

After that night, he started periodically asking our mutual friend Cate if I was still dating Zach. A couple weeks after I broke up with him, Robert called, and we have now seen two movies together.

On Monday night, we saw Spiderman. It was the third time I have seen it, but I love that movie. Robert laughed a lot during the scene in the laboratory studying spiders. Robert just finished his Bachelors in Organisimal Biology and has worked in many labs doing DNA research.

He's the first guy to make me feel a little intimidated as far as intelligence goes. We went to the same high school, but did not know one another. We were talking about it and apparently Robert was part of the Knowledge Bowl, Science Decathalon, National Merit Semi-Qualifing Finalist.....the list goes on and on. I did forensics and took a few honors classes and that's it.

To make matters worse, his uncle was part of the team that cloned Dolly. He offered Robert and his ex-girlfriend a job awhile back when they were together. Robert's ex is fluent in three dialects of Chinese, and this cloning corporation does a lot of business with China. The plan was to send them both over there to mediate.
Jeez, I think and I wonder how he feels about me. Perhaps he has hopes of dating a girl who can match his own intellect.

After the movie, we went back to my house and started talking outside. We ended up lying on my sister's trampoline, staring at the stars. There were quite a few long pauses, so I pulled out a lot of my usual 'getting to know you' questions. One thing we did not talk about was past relationships or future hopes. I wanted to ask him if we were dating or to define what we were doing, but then thought better of it. I decided it would be better not to ask until I knew how I would answer the question myself.

I've only been single for about a month, and I don't really feel like I've healed or grown enough to jump into a relationship. Dating, now that's a different story. I love going on dates, having new people to spend time with, and seeing lots of movies. Unfortunately, I think Robert is looking for something else. Cate told me that a week or so ago she, Robert, and Sarah went out to the lake and had a long conversation about relationships. Apparently, Robert is looking for something serious. She meant it as a selling point.

I hate to be the jerk who has to say, "Sorry, I'm just not ready for a relationship" or "I just want to date around right now". I sound like I have the Peter Pan syndrom for crying out loud. But who knows? We've been out twice and Robert has not kissed me yet. So either he's shy and taking it slow, or he's not sure if he's interested in me beyond a friend. In case it's the latter, I think I'm not going to worry about it and just enjoy his company. If things change, then I will regretfully make my speech when the time comes.

I wish I was $20.00

Mon, 10 Jun 2002 14:17:17 GMT

Almost a year ago, I was enrolled in Choices. It's a four-session long workshop designed to help you evaluate your interests and values so that you can better decide your college major and future career path. One of things we also focused on was self esteem. The instructor told us a story, that I have since been e-mailed several times in Fw:'s.

The setup is a public speaker who pulls out a crisp, new $20.00 bill. He holds it up and asks who wants it, and of course the audience responds enthusiasticly. Then he crumbles it up, and asks who wants it. The audience still feels the same way. Then he puts it on the floor and stomps on it, but the audience still wants it.

The metaphor is the $20.00 bill is our life. Sometimes we may get "crumpled". We'll feel less than our best, and we'll make mistakes, etc. But in the end, our value as a person does not decrease. Just as the audience still wanted the money; people will still want us as a employee, friend, spouse etc, no matter how less than perfect we may feel.

This weekend, I was hanging out with a group of friends outside of a restaurant. All was going well until Jordan showed up. I met him during the fall semester. We were both single and I thought he was great. He was really funny and we could actually talk. Not just small talk but conversations than spanned hours on end. One night we became more than friends, and I thought all was going well until the next time I saw him out with the group. He completely ignored me. He told me that he didn't want to date, and I felt like he didn't want anyone to know that there was something between us. It hurt me a lot, but I valued him so much as a friend and someone to talk to, I tried to get over it.

When Zach and I were breaking up, I had seen Jordan earlier that night at a friend's house. I wont go into everything, but I was standing outside Zach's empty apartment crying. All I wanted was someone to talk to, maybe go grab some pancakes at Perkins so I could settle down before going home. At the time and with the mood I was in, going home to an empty room seemed utterly unbearable.

I called Jordan, and he was very short with me and told me to tell him how everything turned out the next day. The next day I called and asked him why he did that. I thought we were friends but he made me feel like I shouldn't have called him when I really needed someone. He told me shortly that he did not understand me. None of his friends did things like this and he has no sympathy for someone who gets back with an ex and is then surprised when it turns out bad.

I see where he's coming from, and perhaps if I had been calling him every few days crying over something Zach said or did, I could see how he could have snapped at me and said that. Only this was the first time I had called, and we were really breaking up. Anyway, I was so hurt that I promptly erased his number from my cell phone and we haven't spoken since.

After seeing Jordan outside the restaurant, I drove Angela as everyone followed me back to my house. I told her how Jordan was making me uncomfortable. She told me that she didn't agree with a lot of things Jordan does. Then she told me that apparently after she ditched me on my birthday, and it took her a few days to apologize, she had been debating what to do with Jordan. He told her not to call me, that I wasn't worth it, and not to get tangled up in my shit. She then said no, she disagreed and decided to e-mail me.

I know Angela did not say that to make me feel worse, but as soon as she did, that is what happened.

I pondered the validity of what he had said and didn't want to believe it. I know that I may have screwed up big time by dating Zach, but that doesn't mean that I'm not a good friend. I am very loyal, and had the situation been reversed, I would have been there for him or anyone.

As I pulled into my driveway, I saw that Kara (my mom's friend) was spending the night at our house again. This weekend my mom had been crying over her abusive boyfriend not being around. Kara was crying over her cocaine-addict boyfriend who lied to her about moving to Florida to start over but instead was found in a crack house a couple days later. They make quite a pair, in fact, all of my mom's friends are like that.

I thought to myself, screw Jordan. He obviously hasn't taken the time to get to know me. Even if he wont, I congratulate myself on turning out as sane as I have, under the circumstances. I may have gotten off track, but I'm back on it and doing good. And I'm sure that there are lots of people who wont care that I've been crumpled in the last year, especially since I'm straightening out now.

Gay Bars and the scheme of things

Mon, 03 Jun 2002 16:54:03 GMT

Last night I took my mom and my friend Brad down to a gay bar to meet up with my other friend Louis to watch a drag queen show. It sounded like fun and definitely out of the ordinary. I dragged my mom because I knew that she would mope around the house if left to herself. She fought me, but in the end I think she was glad to be included.

Since I've been single, I'm starting to feel more and more like my old self. One quality is my belief in coincidences. I was greatly influenced by The Celestine Prophecy when I read it last summer. The idea is that as long as you are aware and watch for the coinicdences, then your life will follow the path that it is meant for. It's when we stray, and quit watching for opportunites that we miss out.

Last night, we were all sitting around a table, when out of the corner of my eye I saw a blonde haired guy walk by. I looked up, just as he saw me and said my name. His name is Robby and we had gone to high school together. I guess he graduated the same year as I did, but I don't really remember seeing him at all after my sophmore year. Even then, we were not very close and I was amazed that he had remembered me. We started catching up and I found out that three days after graduation he moved to Chicago and had just finished up his bachelors in graphic design at Columbia College.

I couldn't believe it. I told him that I was accepted to the University of Illinois in Chicago and that I hoped to go there but there were still a lot of things that have to come together first. Mostly financial aid and housing. I told him that my orientation was June 26, and I was really scared because I was planning on flying up by myself and wasn't sure how I'd get around. I have a horrible sense of direction. He said that he would be happy to show me the city, and the more we talked, the more excited I got.

I just love that feeling when everything is coming together and I think that perhaps things really do happen for a reason. And when drag queens are involved, that's an extra bonus.

Bad moods absorb alcohol

Mon, 20 May 2002 18:15:25 GMT

Although, if you double or triple the amount you drink, the alcohol will undoubtably win.

Last night, I got really drunk for the first time since I turned 21. I had had one of the worst weekends of my life, and definitely the worst birthday ever. Here's the story....

A couple months ago, my friend Angela and Matt offered to take me to the casinos for my birthday. Granted, if I had chosen, I would have rather gone dancing, but I was so excited about people planning to spend my birthday with me that I wasn't worried about it. I tell all of my other friends that I will be having dinner at Friday's then going to the Casinos, if they want to stop by. Everything was up in the air, but I figured it would all come together. Plus, if not, at least I knew Angela and Matt would be there.

The night before, Matt decides to buy tickets for Star Wars on my birthday instead. Angela goes with him because she is in love with him. She later feels bad about making other plans, and offers to cancel, but I tell her to go. I didn't want her to only come to my party because I had guilt-tripped her into it. Anyway, she went to the movies and if she ever calls me again, I plan on telling her how much it hurt my feelings. Unfortunately, it's been several days and still no word.

So, anyway, I drive myself to dinner expecting only a couple of people to show up. I get there a few minutes late, but I am the first one to arrive. They went ahead and seated me at the table by myself. I grew apprehensive that no one would show. Fortunately, Acacia and Kayla Grace arrived within a few minutes with presents (a bonus). Then comes a few more friends and the boyfriend.

I have a few drinks, and am in a happy tipsy state. Then Angela shows up, yea!! Acacia goes with me to the bathroom and I ask her if she thinks Angela had canceled her plans. I was really excited, but Angela was only stopping by before the movie and left within half an hour. Austin also is now going to the movies instead, something that I find out at dinner. So, now it is only my boyfriend, Brad, and Nathan heading up to the casinos, and I'm a little disappointed.

We get in the car, and Zach starts going off on how lame all of my friends are. I retort, well at least my friends talked to you. One of his friends had stopped by, gotten a drink with Zach at the bar, then left without even saying happy birthday to me. Zach says it is because his friend knew how lame it was and had better things to do. We continue fighting, and Zach disregards my directions to the casino that I printed from the internet. We get really lost for over an hour. Nathan decides that he has too much stuff to do the next day, and goes home. We finally get to the casino, and my mom and her friend were there, but my mom tells me that they are tired of waiting and are going dancing instead. I mean, I had found out how inconsiderate friends could be, but now my own mom is ditching me.

So, we are finally inside, and I have a margaritta. My friend Justin meets me there with his friend Wendy. They drove all the way from Lawrence. Props to Justin. Then Sarah and her boyfriend drive up after she is finished with her graduation. I can't explain how happy I was to have her there. Maybe I didn't get the big group that I had wanted, but I had a few people that really mattered (minus the old boyfriend).

Speaking of, he drove me back to his house and fell right to sleep. No birthday sex for Jaime. Actually no sex for Jaime the last month or more.

The next morning, we drive back to pick up his car, and he is being so mean I couldn't stand it. I told myself that it is now or never, so I blurt out, "I don't think we should see each other anymore." He says nothing. We drive in silence, and when we reach the parking lot, he asks if I don't want to date anymore. I shake my head no, and he says, that's a great idea, I totally agree, and gets out of the car.

By now, tears are streaming down my face as I pull away. I start hunting for my phone to see if anyone had called since last night, and it is ringing. It is him. I let it go to voicemail, and I'm afraid that it is an apology of sorts. Instead, he reaffirms that he thinks that this is a good decision, and wants to be friends. Who is this guy?

My mom calls, and I'm yelling at her and crying because I have had the worst birthday ever, and even she wasn't there for me. She feels bad, and takes me out to dinner later to try to make up for it. Then we go to Sneeky Pete's, where a friend of mine works, and she buys me a couple drinks.

I leave and drive to Lawrence to see Justin. Not only did he drive all the way to KC to be at the casinos with me on my b-day, but also budgeted to take me on a stereotypical college-aged pub crawl. Did I mention how happy I am that Justin is my friend?

We go, and it is okay. I have my first martini, and we go to the dance club, but since school is out, it was not very busy. I have a few drinks, and we go back to his place. We sleep until 1 pm the next day, then I buy him breakfast at Perkins. It was a good day, but defiitely not as exciting as I had hoped. Probably because I was in a bad mood.

That brings me up to last night, I'm still in a bad mood, and I have to drag myself out of the house. Brad acts as my DD, and we go to Sneeky Pete's to hang out with Josh and his friends. Then comes the drinks. Josh works there, so I think/hope that he was getting them for free. He asks what I want, and brings me a tequila sunrise. I drink it, and he replaces it. As I'm finishing up my third, his friends are commenting on how I can put it away. I've already drunk more alcohol than all of them. I have one more tequila sunrise, and I'm pretty drunk and think I should probably stop. Two weeks ago, I only had two and became really talkative and happy. Now I've had four and am just starting to get stupid.

Then Brad, the bastard, brings me a shot of Three Wise Men. Then Josh buys a round of shots at midnight, because one of his friend had just turned 21. My god, I have never been so drunk or more fearful of throwing up. (Fortunately, it never came to that.)

So, it is Monday afternoon, I'm sitting at work. Still a little drunk and a little hungover, but becoming a little more optimistic about the future. It's a little scary, being without boyfriend, without school, and without several friends, but at least I know who really cares about me. Usually the name of the game is stay as busy as possible when going through a break-up, but right now I'm kind of looking forward to the time alone. Maybe I can finally clean my room. And there's always a box of paints waiting for me if I get bored.

Friday night I felt like a typical college student, and I’m not sure how I feel about it.

Mon, 22 Apr 2002 16:54:34 GMT

The night started at a barbeque for Debbie’s birthday. Debbie is a girl I know from high school, and I like her but she is not a close friend- her roommate Cate is. Cate invites me, but warns me that after the food, they were planning on taking Debbie out to the bars since it was her 21st birthday. I said that was okay, I am still under 21 but I could hang out with some friends of mine afterward.

I get to the party and it’s like every one that they’ve ever had. Pretty small, and everyone just sits around and talks. It sounds nice, but when everyone there knows one another and hangs out all the time, it is hard being the outsider that only knows a couple people. Plus, besides the couple of girls I did know, no one really talked to me. Not that I can complain that much, it’s not like I initiated any conversations with people I didn’t know, but I was being shy. Like I said, I didn’t have a place with this group and I didn’t know how to jump in and make one.

For some reason, Debbie decides that she does not want to go out that night. I guess her birthday was actually during the week and she had done the bar thing already. Plus some guy that she was interested in, didn’t want to go, so that’s probably the main reason that she didn’t. Everyone then plays the ‘where should we go game’, and finally this David guy announces that he’s going to Bubba’s to play pool and everyone follows. Everyone knows I’m underage and they promise that Bubba’s doesn’t card, so I follow too.

We ended up playing pool for 3 hours. It was pretty fun, although I am horrible at the game and they kept insisting on playing girls against boys. I think they just like winning. I broke out my camera, which is something I don’t do nearly enough and I got a lot of cool shots although I have not developed them yet. Then David mentioned something about going to study abroad in Paderno del Grappa, Italy. I perked up, because of my recent trip and my enormous love for Italy. He asked me what he should know, being that it is the first time that he has traveled abroad. Now, I really had something to talk about. I told him all about the trains, buses, phones, etc. David was really nice, and the more we talked, the less shy and out of place I felt.

We were finishing up playing pool, and a guy named Jake showed up, and everyone started talking about which bar to go to. Once again, my age was brought up and I told them not to worry about it and go wherever they wanted. Well, David suggested that they go to The Hawk, and I’m sure it was for my benefit. It’s an 18 and over bar down the street from some frats, and not very nice. Anyway, I really appreciated being included.

We go to the door, and I hand my id over and the guy straps a wrist band on me. Strange I think, but then decide, maybe I should take advantage of this. I call my friend Randy, that I’ve known for many years. He lives one block away from the bar and he says that I can crash at his place if I decide to drink. Jake asks me what I want, and buys me a tequila sunrise. I don’t know where he went after that, so I go sit with Cate, her boyfriend Andy, and another guy named Robert. I start talking to Robert and he is also very nice. We’ve met on numerous occasions before, but this is our first time getting to know one another. I realize that I’m feeling the effect of the alcohol. I tell him Robert that in life, I’m not very outgoing and I always choose my words carefully, but when I drink, I talk incessantly. It’s like there’s a thought in my brain and it goes right out my mouth without a stop or even a pause. Before I’ve even finished my drink, Jake shows up with another one for me. I drink most of it, pawning off sips to Robert whenever I can.

Then I decide that it is time to dance. I drag Robert, Cate, and Andy out on the dance floor. I am dancing like a complete dork, throwing my hair around and jumping up and down, but Robert doesn’t mind and joins in. Jake and David reappear, and stand near us talking. The bar starts to close, and as we’re walking out, there’s a lot of talk about me, i.e. wow, Cate’s friend knows how to party. I’m not sure if it was because I was drinking or dancing, or both, but it was weird. I see myself as a huge dork, who never parties, but what do you know. There’s a giant mud puddle outside the bar, so Robert gives me a piggy back ride over it and all the way to the car. I grab my glasses and they give me a ride to Randy’s.

On the ride over, I become very aware that I’m the only drunk person in the car, and I wonder if anyone is annoyed with me. Randy greets me when I get to his house and laughs at me as I ramble on and on to him about my evening. Randy, like everyone, rarely sees me drinking and I think he was amused.

I talked to Cate the next day, and tells me that no, I was not being obnoxious. That was a relief, because I’ve been around a lot of really annoying drunk people and it is not fun. I think I’m pretty easy to be around when I drink, I’m very good-natured and talkative, but I’m also drunk when I’m forming these opinions.

Now, what I am wondering is, could this become my life. Faced with the prospect of going to school in Lawrence full-time, I am concerned that I may become a townie who goes to the bars every night to get drunk. Okay, maybe not, but I think it’s good to think about it. It very well could happen if I let it, but since I’m already thinking about it, I probably wont. I just don’t know what next year will be like.

As a little kid, I always looked up to high schoolers as being so exciting, mature, and grown up. And you know what, I went all through high school and didn’t really feel anything. I never even felt like I fit in there because I didn’t lead the life that I had seen high school aged characters portray in movies. You know, romantic secret crushes, parties, football games, etc. I had a few friends, none of which were friends with each other and none of us were very “popular”.

Then, as a high school and community college student, I started romanticizing university life. I wanted to live out on my own, have lots of friends, go to bars, etc. Now that it is so close to happening, I’m beginning to realize not that much will really change. Sure, I wont be living at home anymore but I’m still going to be the same person. I don’t think I’m going to turn into some social butterfly overnight. If I have any doubts, the fact that I just wrote social butterfly should be a sign. And for the first time, I think that is okay. Getting drunk at the bar the other night and having everyone call me a partier did not appeal to me. Neither did them trying to get me to make out with Cate (I left that out), nor Jake calling Cate’s house drunk at 3:00 am looking for me, I’m assuming because he wanted to get laid. I may never live the life I keep fantasizing about in the movies, and I may always feel like I don’t fit in, but that’s not that such a bad thing. Being me is not such a bad thing, and these last couple years have completely been about me figuring out who I am and being happy with it. At least, it seems to be a reoccurring theme in livejournal.

I will never forget Kevin

Thu, 11 Apr 2002 13:54:59 GMT

Last spring break was spent in Florence, Italy. Although I didn't meet a Carlo there, I had an amazing time in a totally different way.

Every morning, one of the professors from the British Institute would take us to a museum, church, town, etc and give us the highlights. One of the professors was a man named Kevin. He was from England, adorable accent, about 30 years old. I think every woman in our group had a crush on him in their own little way.

During the week, I learned more and more about him. He had been working on his masters degree of art history in England, but kept making more and more trips down to Florence to look at the art work and go through the archives. He absolutely loved the city and would often stay there longer, calling his professors on the phone and lying to them that he was back in England.

Finally, he gets his degree, and he goes to the British Institute in Florence. He walks up to a man who works at the museum who asks Kevin what he wants. Kevin says, "Well, I'd like a job". (insert cute accent). Then, to Kevin's surprise, the guy says that one of the professors has just left and he will allow Kevin to teach a few classes and see if he likes his work. It was just so odd, how simple it was. Kevin starts teaching and gets hired full time.

Well, now he's got a great job and he's living in the city that he loves. He knows a little Italian from his travels and reading the signs about art work in galleries, but it's not as good as he would like. He posts a little sign in a coffee shop which says that he is an Englishman looking to improve his Italian conversational skills. If you are Italian, wanting to work on your English, call this number and we can have coffee and talk.

Well, it's not like he added beautiful, blonde, Italian women need only to reply. But amazingly, that's what he met and as we were riding the train with him to Lucca, they had been married for three years and she was pregnant with their first child.

What I took away from all of this is that if you are true to yourself and you do what you love, then everything else will fall into place. I want to believe that with all of my heart.

A few years ago, I read the Celestine Prophecy. One of the many things that I got from it is to watch for the coincidences in your life. The theory is, that if you watch and follow them, that your life will follow the best path. It's when we're not watching that we deter from it.

On the very same trip, I got very sick in Sienna. The color drained from my face, and I started shaking. What I had was the worst urinary track infection of my life. Judy and Melanie, two of the older women in the group, swooped in and acted as my stand-in moms. They offered to leave the group and take the bus with me back to Florence so I could go to the doctor. The only problem was that we got lost and couldn't find our way back to the station. I was miserable. Did I mention Sienna is the walled (and hilly) city, and it was difficult to not get discouraged. I told them about my belief in coincidences, and then I looked up, and there was a taxi. It was unbelievable, the only one we had seen in Sienna since we had gotten there. We got in and were going to have him drive us to the bus station, but Melanie and Judy felt so bad about me having to walk around when I was sick that they paid him to drive us all the way to Florence.

Once there, I went to the British doctor, also adorable in the matured, married sense. He was really nice and gave me a prescription. I went back to the hotel, napped the rest of the afternoon, then Slava (the guy who worked the hotel desk) made me dinner.

It's hard to explain how magical the trip was. It just really made me believe that anything was possible, and everything would turn out okay (even getting sick). My goal is to keep that Florence mentality no matter what. It's difficult when I'm at home, sometimes things seem so hopeless and I stop looking as much and start settling.

I need to stop doing that. I think as long as I remember Kevin and Florence, I will stay on the right path, whatever that is.

The Dreaded P-Word

Mon, 08 Apr 2002 16:27:43 GMT

I was typing on my computer and half-ignored my sister when she came into the room. In a dejected voice, she muttered,
"I got it today."
"Got what?"
"The p-word."
"Samantha, what are you talking about?"
"Ughhhh, my period!"

I laugh first, the tell her I'm sorry. Geez, she's only eleven. I was thirteen when I got mine and still had a hard time accepting it. I remember telling my mom and she questioned me if I was sure. Of course I was sure. I just wanted her to get me some damn feminine products and not talk about it. At least she let me stay home from school that day as she went to work. Unfortunately, I felt horrible. I was nauseaus, my stomach hurt, and worst of all, my mother informed me that all of this was normal. How the hell would I live with this? I grabbed my calculator and figured 1 period per month multiplied by 12 months a year, times approximately 40 more years until menopause. Dear god, it seemed unbearable. It wasn't until several years later that I learned about the joys of menopause and that it consisted of more than no longer having your period. It was probable that one day I would prefer having the damned thing to not having it.

Talking to my sister got me thinking about all the other painful adolescent experiences I've had. I remember my mother making fun of me for being flat chested. Her, like her mother before her, and now my sister, had all "developed" at an early age. She always pondered why I was different and when I would "fill out". According to her standards, I'm technically still waiting. I blame at least half of my low self esteem issues on her and her guidance during my young impressionable years. Her idea of consolation was telling me that I could always get breast implants when I got older.

I have since recovered from my small breasted insecurities. The way I figure it, I've got a lot of advantages. I can run easier, I don't have to wear a bra if I don't want to, they wont sag to my belly button when I get older, etc.

I wonder about my sister, though. I think my mother is doing a little better job at being a parent the second time around, but I wonder how Samantha is handling growing up in general. I wish I could be her confidant. Let her know that everything will be okay and that she is a great person. Unfortunately, besides the little snipits I receive every once in awhile, I really don't know what's going on in her life. As far as having long heart to heart conversations, they don't exist. I know that I am older, and I should work to build that bond between us, but it is not coming easily. Maybe it's just a phase and when she gets older, we will be as close as I would like. Until then, I try to make sure that she knows that I'm always here to talk to and just hope that she takes me up on it one day.