Rasheed and I are ready to go!
See you in Oklahoma!
Friday, April 21, 2006
Tuesday, April 18, 2006
On the Move
Things are starting to pick up. And by pick up I mean pack up.
I have successfully completed my last day at Barnes and Noble, I have started my last load of laundry that needs to be packed before I can load my car, I have 2 more meetings of class and a final to take, a dishwasher to run, a house to clean, and a gas tank to fill.
My brain is as good as gone, but my body is still here.
This is really hard, especially because I'm being a jerk to my friends. Because they are going to miss me and want some quality time with me--and I just am not putting in any effort to give it to them. It's not that I'm rushing to get away from them, or that I've already forgotten--but there's just this certain level of excitement that acts as a premature catalyst to my big exit from Michigan. The byproducts being merely the echo of my goodbye--litterally just the word lacking sentiment.
When Kara went to Australia on her mission trip, and then decided to stay for the extra couple months of summer I didn't understand. I was really happy that her and Todd were building a relationship, but I was skeptical and I was confused. I was skeptical because I didn't think a summer together would even come close to balancing the rest of the year apart. And I was confused because I didn't understand how she could stay knowing she had other committments. She was going to counsel at a camp, and do something else that summer and I felt like she was really blowing her responsibilities off. I didn't understand.
The skepticism soon faded when I realized that marriage wasn't going to keep her and Todd apart for the rest of the year. It wasn't going to be a long distance relationship, it was going to be her closing the distance. Now that Australia is her home, I sure do miss her but I know that it's where she has to be.
So I'm picking up in the middle of April and moving to Oklahoma. And there's so many things I am leaving unfinished or even barely started. And as supportive as people I love are being, I don't think they can really understand. It's hard to understand that once your mind has gone somewhere else, you just can't bring it back until its ready. It's hard to understand that even though I'm leaving so much that I need and love, I can and will live without it. If I really wanted to I could make it work to stay here. But I just don't.
I'm not good with goodbyes. Maybe because I've never really said them. I've always lived my life assuming that I'll see somebody tomorrow. Even if I know I won't. I tend to not prepare for not talking to or seeing people for a couple of days. Because I guess I feel like people are there when they need to be. And if they're not there, then it means I'm okay without them.
I always end up missing people for a while, but sometimes a day and a month without talking just feel the same. And so saying goodbye doesn't mean anything other than "see you later" to me. And as long as there is tomorrow, then that's when I'll see you.
I have successfully completed my last day at Barnes and Noble, I have started my last load of laundry that needs to be packed before I can load my car, I have 2 more meetings of class and a final to take, a dishwasher to run, a house to clean, and a gas tank to fill.
My brain is as good as gone, but my body is still here.
This is really hard, especially because I'm being a jerk to my friends. Because they are going to miss me and want some quality time with me--and I just am not putting in any effort to give it to them. It's not that I'm rushing to get away from them, or that I've already forgotten--but there's just this certain level of excitement that acts as a premature catalyst to my big exit from Michigan. The byproducts being merely the echo of my goodbye--litterally just the word lacking sentiment.
When Kara went to Australia on her mission trip, and then decided to stay for the extra couple months of summer I didn't understand. I was really happy that her and Todd were building a relationship, but I was skeptical and I was confused. I was skeptical because I didn't think a summer together would even come close to balancing the rest of the year apart. And I was confused because I didn't understand how she could stay knowing she had other committments. She was going to counsel at a camp, and do something else that summer and I felt like she was really blowing her responsibilities off. I didn't understand.
The skepticism soon faded when I realized that marriage wasn't going to keep her and Todd apart for the rest of the year. It wasn't going to be a long distance relationship, it was going to be her closing the distance. Now that Australia is her home, I sure do miss her but I know that it's where she has to be.
So I'm picking up in the middle of April and moving to Oklahoma. And there's so many things I am leaving unfinished or even barely started. And as supportive as people I love are being, I don't think they can really understand. It's hard to understand that once your mind has gone somewhere else, you just can't bring it back until its ready. It's hard to understand that even though I'm leaving so much that I need and love, I can and will live without it. If I really wanted to I could make it work to stay here. But I just don't.
I'm not good with goodbyes. Maybe because I've never really said them. I've always lived my life assuming that I'll see somebody tomorrow. Even if I know I won't. I tend to not prepare for not talking to or seeing people for a couple of days. Because I guess I feel like people are there when they need to be. And if they're not there, then it means I'm okay without them.
I always end up missing people for a while, but sometimes a day and a month without talking just feel the same. And so saying goodbye doesn't mean anything other than "see you later" to me. And as long as there is tomorrow, then that's when I'll see you.
Thursday, April 06, 2006
I Got Used to Sweatpants.
There's something to be said for the Comfort Zone.
It's familiar, it's friendly, it's welcoming, it's consistent, and it's--yes--comfortable. I really can't think of any negative things to say about it. It's just a good thing.
But there is just something unsettling about it.
Like sweatpants. They're so great, but you just can't wear them to work. They don't function on that level. You can always go back to them, but when it's time to go somewhere or do something important you have to take them off. And put on the real pants.
I love my life right now, and I love my friends and my family. And I have a lot of them. But I constantly find myself feeling alone. I feel alone because I don't have any peers. People who are in my same stage of life: post graduate, not married, over 18, under 28. I have lots of fun with my friends who are married with families. They're great. But it's a different dynamic when I go home to my parents and siblings, they go home to their children and spouse.
I have some friends I met at work, with whom I have the greatest time. At work. People I do meet who happen to be my age all have this idea of what is "fun" that I don't share.
This is where I realize that I am sort of hovering in some state of limbo. I don't want to be thrown into the real world yet, but I'm already passed the time I had to go meet people and hang out. I am in a place right now where I have loads of love and support, but something is lacking. I am not complete and I am not happy. This is my comfort zone and it's gotten so worn in that there's a hole in the bottom. I'm uncomfortable. Like when the only pants that fit are sweatpants. They feel nice on, but it's awful because they're all I have.
Stepping out of the comfort zone is something that is difficult for me. It's not really because I'm afraid. And it's not because I don't like change. It's because I lack the desire to be free.
Some people can get up one and pack and move to Alaska. Find a job, low income housing, and make do. Others can get on a plane and go backpacking through Europe stopping here and there living on odd jobs and hostels. Some people sign up for The Amazing Race because they love the thrill of travel and new places. I am not any or either of those people.
I don't feel like I'm missing out on anything in life just because I didn't spend a good portion of it "out on my own." Going and seeing who I can meet is something that just doesn't appeal to me.
I had no problems with curfew either at my parents' house, or in the dorms at college.
I don't disobey or rebel for the thrill of it. Typically, if I do end up doing something rebelious--like a prank--my heart churns and aches until I am positive no one took offense or got hurt.
I like things to be in order. I have a hard time looking at the steps until I can see the big picture.
Through all of this conflict between the sweatpants and the introverted nature, I have realized that I have to do something. I have to get out of where I am and just go somewhere. For real. Not just plan it and see if it will work before getting in my car. I have to just pack up my car and get out.
Now, living arrangements and a job transfer are in the working--so it's not entirely spontaneous. But before May 1 I will be living in Oklahoma City.
I picked a place I won't be alone, but will have to make all new friends. I am living with people I know well, and I have family very nearby, but this is my first venture out of my house.
And I am excited.
I am not scared, or even nervous.
I really just can't wait.
I always say I'm going to stop wearing sweatpants so much, but I never do. Maybe I should just not pack them when I move.
It's familiar, it's friendly, it's welcoming, it's consistent, and it's--yes--comfortable. I really can't think of any negative things to say about it. It's just a good thing.
But there is just something unsettling about it.
Like sweatpants. They're so great, but you just can't wear them to work. They don't function on that level. You can always go back to them, but when it's time to go somewhere or do something important you have to take them off. And put on the real pants.
I love my life right now, and I love my friends and my family. And I have a lot of them. But I constantly find myself feeling alone. I feel alone because I don't have any peers. People who are in my same stage of life: post graduate, not married, over 18, under 28. I have lots of fun with my friends who are married with families. They're great. But it's a different dynamic when I go home to my parents and siblings, they go home to their children and spouse.
I have some friends I met at work, with whom I have the greatest time. At work. People I do meet who happen to be my age all have this idea of what is "fun" that I don't share.
This is where I realize that I am sort of hovering in some state of limbo. I don't want to be thrown into the real world yet, but I'm already passed the time I had to go meet people and hang out. I am in a place right now where I have loads of love and support, but something is lacking. I am not complete and I am not happy. This is my comfort zone and it's gotten so worn in that there's a hole in the bottom. I'm uncomfortable. Like when the only pants that fit are sweatpants. They feel nice on, but it's awful because they're all I have.
Stepping out of the comfort zone is something that is difficult for me. It's not really because I'm afraid. And it's not because I don't like change. It's because I lack the desire to be free.
Some people can get up one and pack and move to Alaska. Find a job, low income housing, and make do. Others can get on a plane and go backpacking through Europe stopping here and there living on odd jobs and hostels. Some people sign up for The Amazing Race because they love the thrill of travel and new places. I am not any or either of those people.
I don't feel like I'm missing out on anything in life just because I didn't spend a good portion of it "out on my own." Going and seeing who I can meet is something that just doesn't appeal to me.
I had no problems with curfew either at my parents' house, or in the dorms at college.
I don't disobey or rebel for the thrill of it. Typically, if I do end up doing something rebelious--like a prank--my heart churns and aches until I am positive no one took offense or got hurt.
I like things to be in order. I have a hard time looking at the steps until I can see the big picture.
Through all of this conflict between the sweatpants and the introverted nature, I have realized that I have to do something. I have to get out of where I am and just go somewhere. For real. Not just plan it and see if it will work before getting in my car. I have to just pack up my car and get out.
Now, living arrangements and a job transfer are in the working--so it's not entirely spontaneous. But before May 1 I will be living in Oklahoma City.
I picked a place I won't be alone, but will have to make all new friends. I am living with people I know well, and I have family very nearby, but this is my first venture out of my house.
And I am excited.
I am not scared, or even nervous.
I really just can't wait.
I always say I'm going to stop wearing sweatpants so much, but I never do. Maybe I should just not pack them when I move.
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