11:35 a.m. - 08/04/02
return to bumblef*ck.
so I've been back in the boonies just over 24 hours now, and I'm less than ecstatic about the return. when I first walked through the door, I just stared at the walls for awhile, trying to take in that this is where I'll be expected to exist for another twelve months. being gone for two weeks really reminded me how little I feel at home here. it took away the obviousness of being here and replaced it with the post-move displacement. in a way, I'm glad about that. I don't want to be at home here. I learned a little better in NY that I will be capable of taking care of myself, that I can be independent, that I will survive. now I am completely incapable of not thinking about massachusetts at least every five minutes and counting. which isn't horrible. it might motivate me to actually work on my portfolio again.
there are so many things I need to find time for: the portfolio, Shandi's letters, writing to Silje, sending Mistrandy a postcard from the show, getting back in touch with Sara (who scared the crap out of me by not calling while I was in NY), cleaning up my room, registering for my senior year, so on and so forth. the next play, which is basically commissoned by Sarah, and which is therefore going to be really difficult to write. it's so impossible to write off of other people's ideas. for me, anyway. since I write from my bones, my muscles, and my blood. my brain so rarely gets involved. I'll have to find a cranny to crawl through, to make the story mine.
a lot of really good things happened in NY, and I need to remember them...I need to remember that I like writing plays, that I need to write, that I can take the subway, and call people, and be alone in public. I think I also learned that I don't have to settle, though I'm not sure if that's accurate. maybe I don't have to settle for other people's plans for me, and other people's ideas of what I need or deserve. maybe I can say, I need this much sleep, I won't take that job, I can hold out for something better. maybe I can decide what I need, what I will like, what will keep *me* sane. I learned a lot about what I need in terms of space, schedule, and relationships while I was in NY, and I no longer feel required to run to a nearby town and sign up for a fast food job. I no longer feel so guilty about my dependence. because when I *do* have a job, which probably won't be until work study in college, but maybe before - I will be really good at it. I will put a lot into it. because I *won't* settle. I'll work for a place that matters, and the menial tasks will feel less torturous that way.
speaking of torture, I discovered hell Friday night. hell is apparently sitting in an airport, waiting for a plane running 1 hour late, which it turns out is not even your plane, but the plane your *sister* is on (which you are supposed to be on, but actually you are on one that left a few hours earlier), and that you are eventually put on standby for, despite the fact that it isn't going to get to Chicago in time for you to catch your connecting flight, especially when, after six years of drought in NY, a thunderstorm blows up and reroutes the plane that you were hopefully going to be allowed on to Washington. sitting in an airport crying because you don't want to go back to your sister's, and you don't want to spend the night in the Chicago airport, and you don't want to go to your parents, because you want very much to be home but you *don't have one* is hell. for me. this is all about me after all.
it's been awhile since I felt so terribly displaced. and of course, you're wondering about RED. what about RED, isn't RED home, didn't you think, "if I could just go to RED"...well...no. RED is home, or was, rather - RED-last-fall was home, and if I could go back to that point, I would. I would even go back to the point of evolution I was at and re-do this past year. because I miss it so terribly, and I want it so badly, and I know that it isn't RED I want but what RED was. which isn't to say that the closest thing to home for me would be RED-now, but the pain of comparing it to RED-then, might be too much. I bet it could be home for many, many people as it is now because so little has changed. but for me, it would all be different. I'm sure it's beautiful with the new staff and all, but I would probably just curl up in a ball and explode.
I don't know. I'm looking forward to talking with the Superdoc, and Silje, and hopefully-hopefully-hopefully Sara, because they're a lot of what my home is now. It's difficult to be homeless, even if it's "only" emotionally. I have walls and ceilings and shelter, but I miss my sanctuary. I have to find it again. I will.
yesterday was nice. I had home for a little while yesterday. it was my fathers "50th birthday observed" (the actual birthday is today) and all my siblings plus my aunt and uncle were in for the occasion. I haven't seen the latter two since my grandpa's funeral a few years ago, and it was really nice to sit around the living room with them like we always did growing up. my aunt and uncle moved to california a few years ago, but before that they came over almost every Saturday night. I consider them nuclear family. it was just so beautiful to be able to be with them again. scary as it was to be "under scrutiny" (this may just be paranoia but I always feel like I have to prove I'm doing better with food, and that makes it ever so much harder to be doing well...) and to feel like I had to defend my choice of college. I think they caught on eventually, and I know they'll support me, but I just really get this feeling of "hippie child throwing away Ivy-League education" from some people. which is silly considering my uncle has a ponytail longer than mine, wears sandals, and makes art. I think I receive more adult-uncertainty over my lack of backup choices than I do for wanting to go to Hampshire. which is understandable. but at the same time, I'm going to Hampshire. (I AM.) so why have back up choices?
I've started saying "if I get accepted" again. Which has to stop. It's when. It's when.
so I don't know. it seems like there's so much more to say, but I'm still in "recount events of day" mode, which always makes the entries less interesting. after a bit of therapy and sleep, I'll return to my normal online-therapy version of journaling. the same way I've returned to the middle of nowhere. traded in spinach pizza, arts, and diversity for my bicycle, trees, and a bedroom. it's a rough balance I must make. but the superdoc tips the scale. life without therapy is very, very odd...
chord
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