Taking the shower the morning after a few days of being dirty is the most glorious feeling. Especially the moment when warm water hits your skin and all the dried sweat and dirt starts to rinse away. I love wrapping up in my towel with my fresh soft hair, smelling like flowers and soap.
I worked a double shift yesterday, and it was really hot out. When I biked to work at 9am the heat was bearable and there was a lovely cool breeze, but by noon any trace of the morning was gone. Just a week ago I had a coat on, and now I'm sweating in a cotton t shirt. There's a reason they say "If you don't like the weather in New England, just wait ten minutes."
On my route from Allston to Cambridge where I work, I stopped at three places. First to the Walgreens where I bought four wallet-sized passport photos for my Colombian visa. Is there a rule somewhere that mandates all passport photos be ugly? I never have good luck with the pictures that go on my ID card. (Which then get flashed on a large screen every time I enter university buildings. How embarrassing!) The second place was the Au Bon Pain in Harvard Square for an iced coffee and a fruit cup. I sat on their patio for a few minutes and watched some graduates in their caps and gowns and regalia travel in smiling groups. (I did that just last week. What a happy occasion.) Finally, the third stop is the postoffice to buy express stamps and a padded envelope. All this so my Colombian visa can be made just in time, but not too early, for my departure on June 23.
Work was long and a little frustrating. Midway through the shift when it was slow, I did something I rarely do, grabbed my cell phone and took care of some emails and texts I'd been putting off. I texted a girl I had to tell wouldn't be getting my sublet after all. Then I had to text a good friend and roommate about why I was frustrated with her behavior recently. I hate confrontation and both virtual conversations ate at my brain for the rest of my shift.
Then a bike ride home to my bed. Sleep. And then being clean in the morning. Having the day off is a wonderful thing! I had a pedicure and bought 2 new blouses for teaching, then went to the organization's office to drop off my visa documents. Then I bought a new pair of shoes (great deal!) that will also go to good use at my new teaching job.
Highlight of my day was going to a Colombian restaurant that I'd never known was so close to my house. I got what the waitress suggested, chicken with mushroom sauce and a nice fruit smoothie. Everything was great! I hope food is this good when I get there. Contrast to that, though, was the bubble tea I got on my walk back from Harvard Square. I love bubble tea and I can only hope (but highly doubt) they have in Colombia.
At 8pm there was an online meeting for the volunteers to ask the field staff questions. I was really looking forward to this and I feel really good after the meeting. I got to see the faces I'll meet when I start orientation and ask really direct questions about the details of the trip. What kind of shoes should I wear when I teach? What credit card should I get? What's the weather like? It was nice to hear the answers to al the little details I'm unsure of. The planning makes it feel so real, and it brings up all the fears I have about leaving my life in Boston. But then I immediately have to remind myself- this is the chance of a lifetime and I'll be so glad to have done it. I'm going to help a community and learn so much more than I ever could staying here in the States. I'm nervous about my host family and new boss at the school, speaking Spanish, and feeling alone in a foreign place. But all that is so small compared to the benefits of lunging out of my comfort zone. Maybe I sound naive, but the only way I know to actually do this is to be optimistic and enthusiastic.
We didn't find out our placements or any details about our host families yet, only generalizations of what its like to live on the coast. I can't wait to know all about my new host family and where I'll be living. All day I've been smiling while I imagine my new life in Colombia.
Wednesday, May 27, 2015
Thursday, May 14, 2015
Highgate
It took 10 minutes for me to bike from the restaurant I work at to the frat house where my friend had invited me to a party. This was one of the very few times I rode my bike at night, but I felt more comfortable on the dark empty streets than in the bright daytime traffic. Black jacket, black leggings, not a good outfit for alerting drivers to my presence, peddling furiously in my tiny designated lane alongside them. A light grey helmet and neon pink shoes helped to increase my visibility.
When I got to the party, my helmet made me stand out in a funnier way. "Ready for anything!" I joked when people asked what I was carrying. Not that I need a conversation starter, tonight I feel like a celebrity. I used to come to these parties often, different houses over the years, a new theme each night, but the same party when you come down to it. Our brothers set up a pong table and a playlist, make strict rules about who is allowed in (which they almost always break) and point the scantily dressed girls towards the 3 or 4 boxes of cheap beer. Since I pledged a sorority in my freshman year I must have attended at least two dozen iterations of this scene. But I graduated a semester early and all at once fell out of this social group. Now I was back, seemingly out of the blue, and old friends were delighted and surprised to see me.
"Hey! I didn't know you were here! How have you been?"
I beamed at each one of them and hugged them tight. "I miss you," I told them. Nostalgia and warm memories came flooding back, a familiar feeling of belonging I had forgotten. These faces knew me and were glad to have me back for the night. It was almost enough for me to feel like a returning hero, doing a victory lap of my old stomping grounds. Almost. All my old insecurities came back to me just as quickly.
It's a natural and obvious question, but "how have you been?" makes me squirm now. I'm "fine" like everyone else who answers that question automatically, but really I'm searching and insecure and floundering for something more impressive to say about my life post-graduation. My degree was in journalism, but I spend forty hours a week as a waitress in a sports themed restaurant. "I'm working and looking for a job in my field" I say, trying to explain away my unimpressive life. But I'm not looking for a job in my field, not actively anyway. I'm paralyzed in that arena by self-doubt and an intense fear of embarrassing myself.
Almost but not quite the oldest person at this party, I look around and realize I have only a few precious months left of attending this kind of thing without being weird. I'm an alum now. Already the new pledges brush me off, introducing themselves but not really looking me in the eye. I remember meeting older girls like this when I was in their shoes. I didn't care who they were, I cared about my new friends and how to get the boys to notice me. Not that I don't still care about that too, it's just that after a few years experience I can see the story play out before it starts.
When I got to the party, my helmet made me stand out in a funnier way. "Ready for anything!" I joked when people asked what I was carrying. Not that I need a conversation starter, tonight I feel like a celebrity. I used to come to these parties often, different houses over the years, a new theme each night, but the same party when you come down to it. Our brothers set up a pong table and a playlist, make strict rules about who is allowed in (which they almost always break) and point the scantily dressed girls towards the 3 or 4 boxes of cheap beer. Since I pledged a sorority in my freshman year I must have attended at least two dozen iterations of this scene. But I graduated a semester early and all at once fell out of this social group. Now I was back, seemingly out of the blue, and old friends were delighted and surprised to see me.
"Hey! I didn't know you were here! How have you been?"
I beamed at each one of them and hugged them tight. "I miss you," I told them. Nostalgia and warm memories came flooding back, a familiar feeling of belonging I had forgotten. These faces knew me and were glad to have me back for the night. It was almost enough for me to feel like a returning hero, doing a victory lap of my old stomping grounds. Almost. All my old insecurities came back to me just as quickly.
It's a natural and obvious question, but "how have you been?" makes me squirm now. I'm "fine" like everyone else who answers that question automatically, but really I'm searching and insecure and floundering for something more impressive to say about my life post-graduation. My degree was in journalism, but I spend forty hours a week as a waitress in a sports themed restaurant. "I'm working and looking for a job in my field" I say, trying to explain away my unimpressive life. But I'm not looking for a job in my field, not actively anyway. I'm paralyzed in that arena by self-doubt and an intense fear of embarrassing myself.
Almost but not quite the oldest person at this party, I look around and realize I have only a few precious months left of attending this kind of thing without being weird. I'm an alum now. Already the new pledges brush me off, introducing themselves but not really looking me in the eye. I remember meeting older girls like this when I was in their shoes. I didn't care who they were, I cared about my new friends and how to get the boys to notice me. Not that I don't still care about that too, it's just that after a few years experience I can see the story play out before it starts.
Thursday, May 7, 2015
The end of things
I've been thinking about breaking up with my boyfriend. After a month or more of fighting and tension, I'm reaching the end of my patience with him. More than once this week he's gotten insanely drunk and belligerent, especially towards me. Don't worry, nothing violent, he's just purposefully mean. He scolds me harshly for the tiniest of mistakes, his tone a baseline angry one that only get louder.
The most recent episode of this was in the worst place.
Normally we see each other everyday, on the few days we don't we're still texting and talking. It's comforting to me to have a constant companion in this way. He's someone who I walk alongside everyday, spending enough time together to start a life. But we hadn't spoken for 24 hours when he texted me something sweet and asked me to come out and see him. I agreed to see him, but I feel guilty. My head is completely sure this is over but my heart doesn't agree. This is about to hurt really bad, I can tell.
The most recent episode of this was in the worst place.
Normally we see each other everyday, on the few days we don't we're still texting and talking. It's comforting to me to have a constant companion in this way. He's someone who I walk alongside everyday, spending enough time together to start a life. But we hadn't spoken for 24 hours when he texted me something sweet and asked me to come out and see him. I agreed to see him, but I feel guilty. My head is completely sure this is over but my heart doesn't agree. This is about to hurt really bad, I can tell.
Wednesday, February 25, 2015
Step Class
Purple v-neck tee, black crop leggings, florescent pink and blue sneakers. I look like an average girl at the gym. Then why do I feel so out of place here? I don't actually go often enough that's definitely a reason. But it's also because I believe myself to be unathletic, which I've found to be more hindering than any other factor keeping me from physical fitness. Gym class was never a place where I shined, or even enjoyed myself. It was a source of dread and shame. Now here I am, a college graduate and actually paying to do the classes I used to hate.
This evening's class was step aerobics. I arrived a little early, just enough time to put my coat in a locker and watch the end of the class before. It was a bootcamp with a large black man with a booming voice. I liked him, he seemed encouraging and jolly. As it turned out he was the teacher for my class, too. As soon as everyone had said hello to each other (they seemed to all know each other! I felt conspicuously new) George bellowed to the class to get ready and with no further introduction started a very fast step workout. Everyone in the room started doing these step moves to his directions, lunging and kicking and stepping and grape-vining and sashaying almost in unison. I was constantly four or five steps behind and embarrassingly moving in the wrong direction constantly. The older woman behind me gave me some pointers over the break and I tried to concentrate on being as dancerly as possible to keep up with these insane step workout people.
I'm proud of myself for actually going, and I did a pilates class last week. Last night I did some lifting with L and his buddy, and my arms and thighs are definitely sore. Trying to keep up an actual fitness routine, I want to take up hiking in the spring.
L isn't here at the moment and I feel his absence acutely. We've been spending days on end here, ordering in food and watching ridiculous television. Smoking and going out to parties, wild sex at all hours. Then there's the fighting, the worrying, the lies and truths all muddled up. And the love, the sweet, true, exhilarating love. My heart flutters when he says nice things, refers to our future together, when he smiles at me with his doe eyes. It sinks and shrivels and dies in my chest when he turns away from me cold, offended by my applications to faraway jobs. I love him, I need him by my side.
Wednesday, February 11, 2015
Shouldn't Have
These size 6R American Eagle "super skinny" jeans are cutting into my fat rolls. This pair fit me fine at 130 and even 138, but started to get uncomfortable after I got past 140 and then 145. 148 this morning, I am a disgrace.
I joined a gym that's just down the street but I've used it no more than 5 times so far. I have to cancel it for my finances sake, it's dumb to pay for something I almost never use.
Yesterday and the day before were lost days. My city was sent back into lock down mode because of yet another snow storm. So I spent all day monday with my boyfriend, watching movies and having sex and eating pizza and chinese. Tuesday I was alone, but I repeated monday's activities except for the sex. Now, two days later I am awakening from my hazy marathon binge and I feel awful about myself. why do I keep doing this?
I cannot wait for summer to come.
I joined a gym that's just down the street but I've used it no more than 5 times so far. I have to cancel it for my finances sake, it's dumb to pay for something I almost never use.
Yesterday and the day before were lost days. My city was sent back into lock down mode because of yet another snow storm. So I spent all day monday with my boyfriend, watching movies and having sex and eating pizza and chinese. Tuesday I was alone, but I repeated monday's activities except for the sex. Now, two days later I am awakening from my hazy marathon binge and I feel awful about myself. why do I keep doing this?
I cannot wait for summer to come.
Wednesday, January 28, 2015
Relationships
To those who don't live on the east coast in the US, there was a blizzard here this week. It's basically all anyone can talk about and we've been in snow day lock-down here in Boston. I spent most of the snow holiday drunk and watching tv and hanging out with roommates and friends.
My last post was a giant complaint about feeling awkward and alone. Monday night made me feel very much outside the group. Tuesday night was completely different, though. I went along with some coworkers to a party at my manager's house. We played beer olympics drinking games and drank a lot of whiskey and beer. I threw up in the bathroom on purpose when I felt like I'd had too much, and I think it helped me from losing control completely. Then my manager started handing out Adderall to everyone at the party and like a stupid idiot I took some. I felt nothing at all, so I took another one a few hours later. By 1 in the morning I was super wired and intent on learning Spanish for some reason. I walked home and felt beautifully alive, I couldn't stop talking and doing things.
L, my boyfriend, came over after sledding with his friends in the closed-down streets. "You're acting really weird," he told me. I explained the amphetamines and he laughed. He had been smoking pot with his buddies and was tired and relaxed. Me, on the other hand, I was talking a mile a minute about anything and everything. Hours passed in what felt like mere minutes and soon it was four o'clock in the morning.
What was simple in the moonlight by the morning never is.
I told him things I've never told him before. That I have intense guilt about my body and not being pretty enough for him (that was humiliating to say out loud.) That when we met online I was going through a weird phase and didn't even really know what I was getting into when we took a chance on meeting in real life. He said from my profile I seemed lost, like I had stumbled into a world where I didn't belong. He had been sleeping around a lot at that point, too. And I'm sure for a long time after we met. I asked him to please, please sleep around still. "I just want you to feel free, to be happy," I told him. He said he wouldn't, he wants this relationship to be different. Which made me so happy, in a way I wasn't expecting at all. He wants me, for real. He wants to know me and care about my day, he likes having sex with me but he also likes to drink coffee with me and watch the movies I like. I feel special, knowing that now.
My pupils were huge from the drugs and he just wanted me to sleep. So we started drinking, spiced rum this time. Then like an even bigger idiot than I'd already proven myself earlier, I took two hits of a bowl he packed. Alcohol and weed together make me almost immediately violently ill. I ran to go throw up and got all the booze out. Still sick. I tried to lay down and had to keep leaping up to throw up again. Agony. He was sweet about the whole thing, but if the positions were reversed I'd have been so annoyed. I bet he is. In the morning I felt ill, partially from the booze and weed combo and partially from the amphetamines, but we made love all day anyway. "made love." Such a cheesy name for sex. Fucking. Screwing. Sleeping Together. But after all the honesty last night, I'd call it making love. I trusted him more, was more sure of who he is and what we are.
I'll exercise more and eat better and blah blah blah as soon as I'm on my feet again. For now, I have sleep to catch up on.
My last post was a giant complaint about feeling awkward and alone. Monday night made me feel very much outside the group. Tuesday night was completely different, though. I went along with some coworkers to a party at my manager's house. We played beer olympics drinking games and drank a lot of whiskey and beer. I threw up in the bathroom on purpose when I felt like I'd had too much, and I think it helped me from losing control completely. Then my manager started handing out Adderall to everyone at the party and like a stupid idiot I took some. I felt nothing at all, so I took another one a few hours later. By 1 in the morning I was super wired and intent on learning Spanish for some reason. I walked home and felt beautifully alive, I couldn't stop talking and doing things.
L, my boyfriend, came over after sledding with his friends in the closed-down streets. "You're acting really weird," he told me. I explained the amphetamines and he laughed. He had been smoking pot with his buddies and was tired and relaxed. Me, on the other hand, I was talking a mile a minute about anything and everything. Hours passed in what felt like mere minutes and soon it was four o'clock in the morning.
What was simple in the moonlight by the morning never is.
I told him things I've never told him before. That I have intense guilt about my body and not being pretty enough for him (that was humiliating to say out loud.) That when we met online I was going through a weird phase and didn't even really know what I was getting into when we took a chance on meeting in real life. He said from my profile I seemed lost, like I had stumbled into a world where I didn't belong. He had been sleeping around a lot at that point, too. And I'm sure for a long time after we met. I asked him to please, please sleep around still. "I just want you to feel free, to be happy," I told him. He said he wouldn't, he wants this relationship to be different. Which made me so happy, in a way I wasn't expecting at all. He wants me, for real. He wants to know me and care about my day, he likes having sex with me but he also likes to drink coffee with me and watch the movies I like. I feel special, knowing that now.
My pupils were huge from the drugs and he just wanted me to sleep. So we started drinking, spiced rum this time. Then like an even bigger idiot than I'd already proven myself earlier, I took two hits of a bowl he packed. Alcohol and weed together make me almost immediately violently ill. I ran to go throw up and got all the booze out. Still sick. I tried to lay down and had to keep leaping up to throw up again. Agony. He was sweet about the whole thing, but if the positions were reversed I'd have been so annoyed. I bet he is. In the morning I felt ill, partially from the booze and weed combo and partially from the amphetamines, but we made love all day anyway. "made love." Such a cheesy name for sex. Fucking. Screwing. Sleeping Together. But after all the honesty last night, I'd call it making love. I trusted him more, was more sure of who he is and what we are.
I'll exercise more and eat better and blah blah blah as soon as I'm on my feet again. For now, I have sleep to catch up on.
Tuesday, January 27, 2015
Flirt
I can hear my roommate having sex with her boyfriend right now. Which is awkward for me since I have a weird tension with him. I think mostly it's just because his primary way of interacting with women is to flirt with them. Actually it's likely both my roommates are having sex right now, both of their boyfriends are here tonight.... yup, just walked down our narrow spiral staircase enough to confirm my suspicion that the other four people in this house are having loud passionate sex at this very moment. In fact they are all crying out with pleasure. Direct quote: "Uh! Uh! Uhhh!"
Yeah. I'd say this moment kind of goes with the key themes of today. It's some sort of insanity that is only brought on by apocalyptical news broadcasts like "Record Breaking Blizzard." I spent the morning making breakfast and chocolate chip cookies with my boyfriend. But we burned them because we were too busy with more important things. Funny thing to explain the hockey puck like things you have to offer as an excuse for the odd burnt smell that's all over the apartment. And then the evening was spent at work for only two and a half hours, a complete waste of the money I spent on transportation getting there.
In the evening I smoked too much and ate too much and drank too much and played cards with my roommates and their boyfriends. Do I post weird stuff when I'm inebriated?
Yeah. I'd say this moment kind of goes with the key themes of today. It's some sort of insanity that is only brought on by apocalyptical news broadcasts like "Record Breaking Blizzard." I spent the morning making breakfast and chocolate chip cookies with my boyfriend. But we burned them because we were too busy with more important things. Funny thing to explain the hockey puck like things you have to offer as an excuse for the odd burnt smell that's all over the apartment. And then the evening was spent at work for only two and a half hours, a complete waste of the money I spent on transportation getting there.
In the evening I smoked too much and ate too much and drank too much and played cards with my roommates and their boyfriends. Do I post weird stuff when I'm inebriated?
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