(no subject)
So I walk through this place and I definitely have a different strut, took me a minute to find a foot holding but it's there. I feel like I am some where that I kind of belong. It is some where that I feel comfortable for the most part, and some where where people know *me by name. They see me and they know my name before I know theirs. That rarely happens. I am usually the add-on to situations. Most of my girlfriends are the outgoing attractive social butterflies. Maybe I cling to them for some kind of emotional support. Maybe I need another person to help bring me out of my protective shell. But here I feel differently. I am not entirely alone, but at the same time I have definitely made a point to make my own... group. I did not need to cling or attach myself to the starfish. I don't have to be a barnacle. I can just *be. I miss my starfish at home, but she is clinging to my other best friend, Ryan. A few fights of ownership betwixt ryan and I have sprung up (drunkenly of course) but I am pretty much over it. But a seed can form without a person meaning to, a root can spring up and cling to life even when you think you gutted the damn thing.
Not a lot has happened. Guests have started to arrive and while it is exciting it's stressful because I am so focused on trying to do a good job. I don't want people to talk shit about my work behind my back and the way that the gossip flows in this place it wouldn't be hard to have a reputation spill out of control. Old people definitely have an old person smell. I fear this smell and being old. Seeing them all wander around with their crutches and canes, wheel chairs and supports. So frail, and taking the same pictures, but individually because it no longer matters if they are in the picture together as long as they each have one in the same place documenting that they were indeed at Denali state park. I get it. I just don't want to.
I admit to drinking a bit too much at times, running my mouth a little bit. In the end I think that is what makes them love me more, but I am never entirely sure. Luckily our neighbors are these legit best friends, who don't mind our noise or singing or drinking. Most of the time we are partners in crime and I am thankful that both of them like me, separately. Reminds me of the brave old me.
Old new Alicia. Haha, I hate that show.
I can't believe I have only been here a month. I feel like I have lived here for years, and I am starting to forget the way my dog smells, the way my cat meows. The way my sister and I fight, and how my parents drive me up the wall. All good things, things I am sure I will reconnect with when I go home. But this leaves me with a question of home. And how my home has always been with my parents, and how I need to make my own home now. I can't keep pretending that I am not a young adult. I need to start acting like it. I need to cut my apron strings and move on from my unit. To make my own unit. To rely upon something new and scary. Because the longer I am here the more I realize that was what my life was missing. An ounce of excitement, an ounce of something new. I have been drinking from the same well of emotion and experience for so long that I almost forgot how good it is to take a sip of... life. Or something awkward like that.
It scares me to admit this, even though I have admitted it openly for months, as if saying it out loud would help me figure out what to do. I need to take this experience and really consider what I am doing. Maybe hospitality could be my line of work, maybe I could make a career in the hotel industry. Not exactly what I imagined doing with my life, but some times things fall flat in front of your face and you would be a fool not to consider the possibility. Especially with a company like this, and the travel alone would be amazing. But that brings me to the roots and unit and the traveling really is not that cohesive to creating roots. So many of the kids and people working here have done a few seasons scattered throughout the country. Paid vacations so to speak, and the perks to come back for a second year are ridiculous. So I am considering.
But I want to go to god damn school. I need to figure out how to do a loan, FAFSA, whatever. I have always made it to like the fourth or fifth page of the application online and something would hold me back. I need to stop blaming and procrastinating and just do. Unfortunately since a few of my classes I took a FAIL in, I have to remedy that situation. I know I am not the first person to be in this situation and the community college is pretty understanding, but I wish I could talk to someone who knows what they are doing. Sure I have friends who are graduating and have been through the hoops, but I don't feel comfortable asking them for help or advice any more. Ian is leaving to go to Hawaii before I arrive home and while I am super stoked for him I am gonna miss my buddy when I get back.
If I go back.
My dad kept saying once I left for Alaska that I would not come back home. Maybe parents have an intuition. Or maybe he just knows that it is time for me to see some unbelievable things. Maybe it is time for me to do something other than be the responsible child.
Maybe
I want to go to the bar in hopes of seeing a boy. Futile and silly, especially since the girls he is interested in are not really like me. But I say that prematurely and because it makes me feel better if I feel butterflies, because he could not possibly be interested in me. I would be embaressed for him if he were into me. And those thoughts. those thoughts need to be struck from my mind, they need to leave me alone. Because I am o-k. Being in a new place brings a lot of questions about my scar. Everyone is too scared to ask but eventually it comes out, and I have to re-hash the quick version of the stupidest night of my life. Or I can shrug it off and make them feel bad for asking, but I don't want people to feel that way.
But I hate that the question lingers in the back of their mind until the point where they can't not ask. Just ask, be done with it. At orientation I announced it to a room of fifty people, just so I wouldn't have to explain it to the leads. Now the rest of the teams are here, and I feel a little uneasy with it.
But what the hell does it really matter.
I got my sexy red shirt on, black slacks and my make up did. I should go play some pool but what if no one is there that I know? I analyze things to death. Kill it dead.
Ah, well.
I am well.
^^ Alaska ate this post last night. Decided to throw it back up today. I have tomorrow off. I can't wait. The bar was fun. Played pool with people all night. Some random black guy started hugging on me half way through though and I was starting to get creeped out. Not the right guy at the table to be hugging on me haha.
Not a lot has happened. Guests have started to arrive and while it is exciting it's stressful because I am so focused on trying to do a good job. I don't want people to talk shit about my work behind my back and the way that the gossip flows in this place it wouldn't be hard to have a reputation spill out of control. Old people definitely have an old person smell. I fear this smell and being old. Seeing them all wander around with their crutches and canes, wheel chairs and supports. So frail, and taking the same pictures, but individually because it no longer matters if they are in the picture together as long as they each have one in the same place documenting that they were indeed at Denali state park. I get it. I just don't want to.
I admit to drinking a bit too much at times, running my mouth a little bit. In the end I think that is what makes them love me more, but I am never entirely sure. Luckily our neighbors are these legit best friends, who don't mind our noise or singing or drinking. Most of the time we are partners in crime and I am thankful that both of them like me, separately. Reminds me of the brave old me.
Old new Alicia. Haha, I hate that show.
I can't believe I have only been here a month. I feel like I have lived here for years, and I am starting to forget the way my dog smells, the way my cat meows. The way my sister and I fight, and how my parents drive me up the wall. All good things, things I am sure I will reconnect with when I go home. But this leaves me with a question of home. And how my home has always been with my parents, and how I need to make my own home now. I can't keep pretending that I am not a young adult. I need to start acting like it. I need to cut my apron strings and move on from my unit. To make my own unit. To rely upon something new and scary. Because the longer I am here the more I realize that was what my life was missing. An ounce of excitement, an ounce of something new. I have been drinking from the same well of emotion and experience for so long that I almost forgot how good it is to take a sip of... life. Or something awkward like that.
It scares me to admit this, even though I have admitted it openly for months, as if saying it out loud would help me figure out what to do. I need to take this experience and really consider what I am doing. Maybe hospitality could be my line of work, maybe I could make a career in the hotel industry. Not exactly what I imagined doing with my life, but some times things fall flat in front of your face and you would be a fool not to consider the possibility. Especially with a company like this, and the travel alone would be amazing. But that brings me to the roots and unit and the traveling really is not that cohesive to creating roots. So many of the kids and people working here have done a few seasons scattered throughout the country. Paid vacations so to speak, and the perks to come back for a second year are ridiculous. So I am considering.
But I want to go to god damn school. I need to figure out how to do a loan, FAFSA, whatever. I have always made it to like the fourth or fifth page of the application online and something would hold me back. I need to stop blaming and procrastinating and just do. Unfortunately since a few of my classes I took a FAIL in, I have to remedy that situation. I know I am not the first person to be in this situation and the community college is pretty understanding, but I wish I could talk to someone who knows what they are doing. Sure I have friends who are graduating and have been through the hoops, but I don't feel comfortable asking them for help or advice any more. Ian is leaving to go to Hawaii before I arrive home and while I am super stoked for him I am gonna miss my buddy when I get back.
If I go back.
My dad kept saying once I left for Alaska that I would not come back home. Maybe parents have an intuition. Or maybe he just knows that it is time for me to see some unbelievable things. Maybe it is time for me to do something other than be the responsible child.
Maybe
I want to go to the bar in hopes of seeing a boy. Futile and silly, especially since the girls he is interested in are not really like me. But I say that prematurely and because it makes me feel better if I feel butterflies, because he could not possibly be interested in me. I would be embaressed for him if he were into me. And those thoughts. those thoughts need to be struck from my mind, they need to leave me alone. Because I am o-k. Being in a new place brings a lot of questions about my scar. Everyone is too scared to ask but eventually it comes out, and I have to re-hash the quick version of the stupidest night of my life. Or I can shrug it off and make them feel bad for asking, but I don't want people to feel that way.
But I hate that the question lingers in the back of their mind until the point where they can't not ask. Just ask, be done with it. At orientation I announced it to a room of fifty people, just so I wouldn't have to explain it to the leads. Now the rest of the teams are here, and I feel a little uneasy with it.
But what the hell does it really matter.
I got my sexy red shirt on, black slacks and my make up did. I should go play some pool but what if no one is there that I know? I analyze things to death. Kill it dead.
Ah, well.
I am well.
^^ Alaska ate this post last night. Decided to throw it back up today. I have tomorrow off. I can't wait. The bar was fun. Played pool with people all night. Some random black guy started hugging on me half way through though and I was starting to get creeped out. Not the right guy at the table to be hugging on me haha.