Am I Ready...for...um....Grad School? Yeah...Grad School...right.
\
Oh Jesus.
Hi journal. I feel like I have to approach this slowly like a friend that I've neglected to write in a while and I want to get back in contact with {Hi BeXXX}.
Now that Alvin fixed my laptop screen and I don't have an annoying crack down the middle of my screen, I'm surprised about how much I love the Internet again. I wasn't even able to watch porn and enjoy it in all its full screen glory...and that...in the end...sucked.
Another reason I should be excited to have my computer running is that I'm (finally) (re)starting grad school (this time for real) on the 25th of August.
To be honest, I'm not over-enthused about the program but I figure an MLIS is the professional degree I need to bust my ass into making enough money not to complain about my quality of life (read: not getting what I want all the time).
I've been up since I think 4:30am thinking. Being anxious and excited. Contemplating how I'm going to transfer my life successfully into grad school mode AND keep my awesome (read: easy) job AND move back to Orange County. Oh...and stay in this relationship with Randy. I hate that that's an after thought. But it is. Still for me. I'm not willing to sacrifice my ambitions for a relationship. for love. Love?
Shit if I can't be honest on my LJ where can I be?
I don't know that I am in love. I know that I'm in a relationship with a 19 year old who is completely and utterly devoted to me. Who says he loves me and wants to be with me forever. And that's cool. That's nice. That's well and good, but I know in the recesses of my being of my thinking -ness... that this is one cookie I'm not biting into just yet. Okay....wait..maybe just a bite. But I'm not taking the whole tray.
I won't get into what's wrong with the relationship interpersonally. I'll just go ahead with the stuff I know an objective person would note and perhaps chastise me for:
I have no doubt in my mind that what he says about loving me is genuine, but as Terrius and I have discussed at length on the phone--genuine as it may be, his love for me is unripened. That is, yeah, at 25 I acknowledge that dating a 19-year-old is 1) an easy out for me commitment-wise 2) probably taking advantage of him or at least his naivete 3) going to end poorly because of the former 4) immature on my part or a way of staving off maturity in a sense and 5) hence a way for me to test/prove myself capable of being in a committed relationship.
That said, he's not an experiment or a play thing for me.
And I write about this now because when he looks and me all these concerns sort of melt into the background. Like that Shakira lyric goes: Sólo tú doblas mi razón I wonder if I have said that about anyone else before. Hm....if only there was a way to do a full text search of my journal. Anyone? Anybody? I would google it, but someone should tell me. Now.
Back to the issues at hand: I am attracted to him, yeah, and I think as much as it is a physical thing (which is far, far, far from saying it's completely physical) it is also an attraction to his attraction, his devotion, and his "love" for me. {Here the quotes meaning that he calls it love and not so much that I doubt that it is}. Sometimes when he looks at me, I feel like he grows wings and wraps them around me...and I know I have a penchant for angel imagery, but work with me here. It's a cocoon like effect where I am simultaneously seduced, comforted, and knocked into a punch-drunk stupor.
And how much of that is me not taking responsibility for the being in at emotional maturity level that's miles if not lightyears (says I) from his? This is my owning up to that. And it's nothing I haven't shared with him as well. Don't get me wrong. I'm not the predator (or am I?) this scenario I paint makes me.
I met him on May 2nd under the impression that he was 23. Later the same day I found out he was 19. And later that first week, I found out he was really 18. And at that point I carded him like any self-respecting joto. His birthday was last week, so he is now 19. Thank God. But still. One might see this as an excuse. And really, I'm not trying to justify this relationship to anyone except perhaps myself because in order for me to continue treating him well I have to respect the relationship that we share, and I can't do that if I don't feel I'm not playing fair.
What I do know is that we've been together officially two months as of July 28th. And that's twice the lifetime of my longest relationship rounded up. And. And. And. I'm not bored. With him. or it. And that's got to mean something. Right?
Fast forward (as I come back from a chocolate chip cookie break): I think a lot of my hesitations when it comes to people I choose to bring into my life have to do with making them fit into what I have. God that sounds so unhealthy. And perhaps working in a library has already started to have the toll on my personality that I think it can have...which is incidentally why I'm not so keen on this whole grad school thing in library science.
In general I've weeded what I don't like from my life thus far effectively, and for new people I generally have a series of filters (which unfortunately most don't weather very well--at least 90% of the people from the IE I've met do not).
NOTE TO SELF: I've realized it before but in my relationship with Randy I've come to realize that I don't just observe anything, I don't see it for what it is, I don't appreciate it, I don't accept things; rather I evaluate it, I assign it value, scrape up some meaning to attach to it (e.g. 3 paragraphs up)--deserving or not. For goodness's sake I BLOG! And this can be rather disruptive or destructive to relationships I have. Worse than that, I can be prejudiced enough to preclude potentially awesome relationships from happening because of this very English-major type of Romanticism.
{help me out here, BeXXX, is it Romanticism?}
I have this sort of tendency to hold a person, a relationship up to the light and say, "Would this work here? What does this go with?" As if I'm trying to match a person with the decor of my life. If it doesn't fit in the motif, it's gotta go. Or I gotta build another room for it...and really the expense of construction in my mid-twenties? Come on. I'd have to take out a second mortgage. (End of exhausted conceit).
I also like to throw in semi-arbitrary standards like if they don't get along with my brothers, they're gone. It's the family litmus test. Or my most frequent is trying to fit them into the Davis bubble and all the artificiality and political posturing that went along with that part of my life. Incidentally, when am I going to give up that ghost? Obviously a sign that I need more experiences in my life. Not that going to say Africa, or moving to San Jose would make me stop asking how would Olivia or Diego or Gaby or Becca or Angelina (and really I should let her rest in peace) get along with { }? And while these people are those that have in essence been able to terraform me even in my adult life, it's not like it wouldn't be awkward having them all at the same dinner table.
These questions. (About) This relationship. Damn...this journal has always only be about myself. It's not what I can do to be a better person...although I'd like to think that since I draw these aspect of myself into my consciousness, I become more understanding at large. It's been about learning about myself. And that's I think I keep coming back to this journal. When I want to know. When I want to learn. When I go back to school. When I'm ready. I write.
Oh Jesus.
Hi journal. I feel like I have to approach this slowly like a friend that I've neglected to write in a while and I want to get back in contact with {Hi BeXXX}.
Now that Alvin fixed my laptop screen and I don't have an annoying crack down the middle of my screen, I'm surprised about how much I love the Internet again. I wasn't even able to watch porn and enjoy it in all its full screen glory...and that...in the end...sucked.
Another reason I should be excited to have my computer running is that I'm (finally) (re)starting grad school (this time for real) on the 25th of August.
To be honest, I'm not over-enthused about the program but I figure an MLIS is the professional degree I need to bust my ass into making enough money not to complain about my quality of life (read: not getting what I want all the time).
I've been up since I think 4:30am thinking. Being anxious and excited. Contemplating how I'm going to transfer my life successfully into grad school mode AND keep my awesome (read: easy) job AND move back to Orange County. Oh...and stay in this relationship with Randy. I hate that that's an after thought. But it is. Still for me. I'm not willing to sacrifice my ambitions for a relationship. for love. Love?
Shit if I can't be honest on my LJ where can I be?
I don't know that I am in love. I know that I'm in a relationship with a 19 year old who is completely and utterly devoted to me. Who says he loves me and wants to be with me forever. And that's cool. That's nice. That's well and good, but I know in the recesses of my being of my thinking -ness... that this is one cookie I'm not biting into just yet. Okay....wait..maybe just a bite. But I'm not taking the whole tray.
I won't get into what's wrong with the relationship interpersonally. I'll just go ahead with the stuff I know an objective person would note and perhaps chastise me for:
I have no doubt in my mind that what he says about loving me is genuine, but as Terrius and I have discussed at length on the phone--genuine as it may be, his love for me is unripened. That is, yeah, at 25 I acknowledge that dating a 19-year-old is 1) an easy out for me commitment-wise 2) probably taking advantage of him or at least his naivete 3) going to end poorly because of the former 4) immature on my part or a way of staving off maturity in a sense and 5) hence a way for me to test/prove myself capable of being in a committed relationship.
That said, he's not an experiment or a play thing for me.
And I write about this now because when he looks and me all these concerns sort of melt into the background. Like that Shakira lyric goes: Sólo tú doblas mi razón I wonder if I have said that about anyone else before. Hm....if only there was a way to do a full text search of my journal. Anyone? Anybody? I would google it, but someone should tell me. Now.
Back to the issues at hand: I am attracted to him, yeah, and I think as much as it is a physical thing (which is far, far, far from saying it's completely physical) it is also an attraction to his attraction, his devotion, and his "love" for me. {Here the quotes meaning that he calls it love and not so much that I doubt that it is}. Sometimes when he looks at me, I feel like he grows wings and wraps them around me...and I know I have a penchant for angel imagery, but work with me here. It's a cocoon like effect where I am simultaneously seduced, comforted, and knocked into a punch-drunk stupor.
And how much of that is me not taking responsibility for the being in at emotional maturity level that's miles if not lightyears (says I) from his? This is my owning up to that. And it's nothing I haven't shared with him as well. Don't get me wrong. I'm not the predator (or am I?) this scenario I paint makes me.
I met him on May 2nd under the impression that he was 23. Later the same day I found out he was 19. And later that first week, I found out he was really 18. And at that point I carded him like any self-respecting joto. His birthday was last week, so he is now 19. Thank God. But still. One might see this as an excuse. And really, I'm not trying to justify this relationship to anyone except perhaps myself because in order for me to continue treating him well I have to respect the relationship that we share, and I can't do that if I don't feel I'm not playing fair.
What I do know is that we've been together officially two months as of July 28th. And that's twice the lifetime of my longest relationship rounded up. And. And. And. I'm not bored. With him. or it. And that's got to mean something. Right?
Fast forward (as I come back from a chocolate chip cookie break): I think a lot of my hesitations when it comes to people I choose to bring into my life have to do with making them fit into what I have. God that sounds so unhealthy. And perhaps working in a library has already started to have the toll on my personality that I think it can have...which is incidentally why I'm not so keen on this whole grad school thing in library science.
In general I've weeded what I don't like from my life thus far effectively, and for new people I generally have a series of filters (which unfortunately most don't weather very well--at least 90% of the people from the IE I've met do not).
NOTE TO SELF: I've realized it before but in my relationship with Randy I've come to realize that I don't just observe anything, I don't see it for what it is, I don't appreciate it, I don't accept things; rather I evaluate it, I assign it value, scrape up some meaning to attach to it (e.g. 3 paragraphs up)--deserving or not. For goodness's sake I BLOG! And this can be rather disruptive or destructive to relationships I have. Worse than that, I can be prejudiced enough to preclude potentially awesome relationships from happening because of this very English-major type of Romanticism.
{help me out here, BeXXX, is it Romanticism?}
I have this sort of tendency to hold a person, a relationship up to the light and say, "Would this work here? What does this go with?" As if I'm trying to match a person with the decor of my life. If it doesn't fit in the motif, it's gotta go. Or I gotta build another room for it...and really the expense of construction in my mid-twenties? Come on. I'd have to take out a second mortgage. (End of exhausted conceit).
I also like to throw in semi-arbitrary standards like if they don't get along with my brothers, they're gone. It's the family litmus test. Or my most frequent is trying to fit them into the Davis bubble and all the artificiality and political posturing that went along with that part of my life. Incidentally, when am I going to give up that ghost? Obviously a sign that I need more experiences in my life. Not that going to say Africa, or moving to San Jose would make me stop asking how would Olivia or Diego or Gaby or Becca or Angelina (and really I should let her rest in peace) get along with { }? And while these people are those that have in essence been able to terraform me even in my adult life, it's not like it wouldn't be awkward having them all at the same dinner table.
These questions. (About) This relationship. Damn...this journal has always only be about myself. It's not what I can do to be a better person...although I'd like to think that since I draw these aspect of myself into my consciousness, I become more understanding at large. It's been about learning about myself. And that's I think I keep coming back to this journal. When I want to know. When I want to learn. When I go back to school. When I'm ready. I write.