on books, underwear, assholes like me, and the special and general theories of relativity
Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh I am so behind in evvvvvveeeeerrrryyyytttttthhhhhhiiiiinnnngggggggg.
In retrospect (because this sentence is being written after I have already written the rest of this), writing this massing entry probably didn't help with that.
I was supposed ot have the first week of summer to unpack and get adjusted, but instead I've been working 8 hour shifts most days, because somehow every single year the lake forgets that even if they don't declare it Summer until Saturday, schools being out + HOTness = lots of people in the water, which means that they need more lifeguards. So every single year they only schedule the staff they'd need for a day in the middle of february. Every year before this I've actually still been in school, and so I've had a valid excuse. This year, unfortuantely, I don't.
Not to overshare, but the last load of laundry I did at UCSB was all underwear. Being lazy and unorganized as I am, I didn't go back to take it out of the dryer until two days after I put it in. Apparently, in that time, some guy noticed that it was there for a long time, thought someone had lost it, and took it to the front desk, asking f they had a lost and found. The front desk, making the logical assumption when they saw a guy holding a bag full of bras, assumed it was clothing he'd outgrown and didn't want (this was the story I got from the actual desk-person, who happened to be the same one working the next day when I asked), and told him that he should take it to the clothing drive on the third floor. So, end of story, I have no underwear, because it all got donated to the poor... at least it will be clean when they get it?
Also hopefully not an overshare, but I think I am an asshole. Because there may or may not be this person that I was dating (and this is not cute phrasing to show my hesitance in discussing the issue, but literally, I am not sure if there was a person that I was dating or not) in Santa Barbara, but until I got home I didn't realize that what we were doing was considered dating. And maybe this person didn't call me for like a week (and this is just cute phrasing, really she didn't call that whole week) right before I left for home, so I assumed that whatever we were doing (which I didn't know was maybe dating) was done. And then maybe I left without saying goodbye, or really telling said person that I was leaving directly. And then the day after I got home my phone broke (or, okay, I broke it), and so I haven't gotten the several messages asking where I am. I just now got the message on facebook asking if I was planning on telling her... telling her what? She doesn't say. I still don't know what it even was. I do know, however, that whatever I didn't tell her makes me an asshole. And this is why I hate feelings like those, because they make me unfomfortable and make me do stupid things, and when I do the messing up it actually hurts someone. It's much easier when people just don't care.
Ahem. Sorry about that. I know I keep writing emo things and then apologizing for them, but not taking them down, and I'm sorry if it's becoming annoying. Maybe acknowledging that I do that and still not going back and deleting this section makes it even worse. Maybe realizing that pointing that out makes it even worse and still not deleting it...
Okay. But. Ahem. I'm supposed to move on. My dad gave me The Universe and Dr. Einstein a few days after I got home, and in my limited free time I've been reading a few chapters at a time. Incredibly clear and concise summary of the special and general theories of relativity (but that’s as far as I’ve gotten). I have to go back and reread GUT Symmetries again, because while I had a grasp on the very basic ideas before, I understand the implications and the connections better now. If I can keep up with this book and a few others my dad has waiting, he said that he’d give me a few of the books he’s been reading on string theory (after which I will need to reread Gut Symmetries AGAIN, because it’s just that good). I’m not sure I’ll be able to, but I’m excited.
I’ve also gotten to get him to agree to let me pick his reading for the beach house. I can never tell one hundred percent if my dad will like something though. I hope his taste in books is like his taste in music, because he will listen to anything that doesn’t involve screaming or rapping and has good lyrics. And plus, his taste in music is a lot like mine. I’m almost considering recommending Perks of Being a Wallflower to him, because it, for some weird reason, reminds me of Flowers for Algernon, which he loves, and because even though it’s about a teenager we like enough of the same things that I think my love of it counts for something, and also the style of writing reminds me of him in a weird way. Like, it doesn’t try to say more than it is saying. I don’t know. I’ll put it in the middle of the stack of books I give him and let him work his way through.
Speaking of books, any recommendations- for him or for me? I need a few good books to get me back into reading, because aside from my discovery of Kurt Vonnegut (and hello, how did I not read him until college?) and a few random books, I didn’t read anything this year. I miss how I used to come home and curl up on the couch for four or five hours with a book. I don’t know at what point I started caring more about my own thoughts than the world around me, but I’ve been obsessed with how I think to the point where it has become harder to read in the past few years. I have to take breaks, because thinking about how I am thinking about the story pulls me out of the story unless I take a break to reflect. And really? My reflections aren’t that important. I don’t mean it in an insecure or self-loathing way, just that I need to get over this obsession with my own thoughts, because it’s making me prefer sitting and thinking through the same shallow patterns over and over to opening a book and being taken somewhere. And I miss being able to completely get away from myself.