Some heartfelt prattling
I'm pleased to find that my house still feels like home, only emptier. I kind of wish it didn't still reek of homeness as much, though, because it's like stopping by home for a few hours between vacations. Only, this is a more permenant vacation so it's just that bittersweet. Actually, I've never done that double vacation thing, but I imagine this is very much what it feels like in the house of my imagination.
The way there's only little towels left in the towel rack (and not my pseudo-comfortor of a towel), the way the room is messy like I still live here, even though all the mess can muster itself into is a pile of unread books and some old papers from plans I'd left forgotten... the way the computer screen still has oatmeal splashes on it (never figured that one out), and all the undiscovered mysteries of my existence still hanging here. I don't like the locked door. The blankness of the dry-erase board on the first floor is like the wall that my dad's solitude is echoing off of. Strangely enough, it makes me sad to see the fridge supplied with chicken and broccoli instead of the buddhist delight from China Garden.
How could the things I deemed not important enough to bring feel even more important than every item I use in my daily routine. One washed black sock over shirts; a directory of numbers I never call over a cellphone; a pair of too-big costume pirate boots lying clumsily on the floor over my sneakers... Jeez. I don't know what's wrong with me. I live just up the street. But it's different, you know? It's just like when I changed schools, less than a seven minute leisurely walk away and yet the world of a difference. I feel like I've left my dad with nothing. This is what he had in mind right off the bat, right when he committed himself to getting us back into custody ten years ago. I keep telling myself this, but why does it feel like abandonment?
*sigh*
I'm finding that more and more I'm coming to feel warm and fuzzily toward the idea of home and comfort and all things dependable and stable. Yikes! Why is this scary for me? I guess it's because I want to be an adventurous person. I want to want to be on the move, but I also want to want to have a place that feels safe - somewhere to return to.
I'm living with a lot of priss in the dorm, but I'm also dealing with a lot of sweetness and community. I'm thinking of myself as more and more of a tomboy, unfortunately. Besides really enjoying jewelry, makeup, good hair days, pretty clothes, I'd really rather just hang out with a bunch of guys than the girls most of the time. I don't really mean anything by it. I just really like not having to walk on eggshells with guys, because I can rest assured that most of them aren't picking apart and analyzing every word I say. Unless, of course, it's one a' thems transcendental discussions, you see. Ideally, I just want more one-on-one times hanging out with people. Erik, for example. I realized after bumping into him and talking for a minute or two with him yesterday that it's been forever sine I hung out with him! Natalie's another great example. There are tons of people I vaguely know but would like to get to know better, too...
I miss Bin and Eep terribly. My partners in crime and convenience store perturbation. Haven't written Eep yet, but she's in my thoughts so frequently. I get frustrated with myself for not visiting more with Bin, because she's right there. Why do I feel so obligated to be spending time with other people whom I don't enjoy nearly as much? There's so much to be done! Guess it's all that much more to look forward to.