Manic Wednesday
I am manic. Maybe it is the hardcore Gemini in me, or maybe I need something to balance my serotonin levels, but I have been going through periods of ups and downs, highs and lows, heightened awareness or none at all. But I can't complain, because this is how I've always been, it's only that as I grow older, I notice and feel it more.
A strange thing happened to me last Wednesday. Kailey and I, stoned and giggly, decide, randomly, that we were going to go to Stop & Shop around 9:30P or so. As we're walking in, Kailey sees a kid she used to go to NSJSHS with. She runs over and hugs him. It was then I realized that he was not alone, and in his tracks, among others, was one Adam Muratori. We stood in a group, chatting for at least five minutes before one of the guys asks me: "Have we met?" That's when Adam cuts in with: "Come on. You know Erik." Then the kid (Josh, as it turns out) says: "Ohhh... yeah." Nice, huh? Then Adam says to me: "So how's... Pinelli's?" "It's okay I guess." And that was all. Kailey pulled me away and once we were out of their earshot she apologized, but she didn't have to, it wasn't her fault. Now, there are a few reasons why this is such a strange occurrence.
(1) I have not seen Adam since August 13th (I remember the date only because it was Friday the 13th and the night of the Sarah McLachlan concert), and I thought that if I did ever run into him, it would be at work. Not at the local grocer. Yeah. Weird. (2) I've been thinking a lot about this boy lately. More than usual. Over these months, he's left the front of my mind and parked himself far in the back, beneath my insecurities and neuroses. But for some reason, he's been in my mind. I almost felt like I was unconsciously preparing myself for something. And this was it. I must have an intuition for some things. (3) I thought I knew myself well enough to know that, when I did finally see him after three months, I'd be once again consumed by the passion I knew so well so long ago. But I wasn't. He looked terrible and tired, and the fact that he had nothing to say to me but "How's Pinelli's?" left me a bit disconcerted. Maybe if we were alone, it'd be different. But somehow I doubt it.
The Renaud Thanksgiving Celebration was held at my house this year. My entire family, myself included, was stressed out, worrying about supplies, guests, and my father's endless procrastination in putting the hardwood floors down in the dining room and parlor. But, surprisingly, everything went off without a hitch. A buffet style dinner allowed everyone to sit wherever they wanted. And since my family is a bit clique-y, everyone was pleased. We had at least fifteen different desserts (most of them terrific). Aimee, Jill, and their friend Doug from Cali came by. We chilled out, laughed a shit-load, and closed off the night with some reefer. I did not fight with my parents once all day, and for the first time I assisted my mother in the preparation and distribution of the food. Usually, I feel a bit alienated from my extended family. I guess every young kid does at one time, but this has been a consistent cycle for several years now. Actually lending a helping hand, though, made me feel more included, and even more loved. Plus, my sister was the brat of the day, and I was the angel. (Never thought that would happen.)
The semester is nearly over. Thank the Almighty as he smiles down from heaven upon my feeble soul! Don't get me wrong, I love college. I love the people and the parties and the odd situations I find myself in on a regular basis. Plus, I'm loving the idea that there is a wealth of knowledge out there that pertains to my interests, and I decide what I want and when I want it. It's liberating. And so unlike high school that sometimes I feel like I'm not in school at all, at least 'school' in the sense that I used to think of it.
The only problem lately is that I have so much to write. Not only have I been nursing this novel idea for more than a month now and plan/hope to start it soon, I have an extensive paper on MULHOLLAND DRIVE due next week for film class, three papers for writing class (a gender topic, my definition of a perfect life, and a mini-research paper) that are long overdue, and a 4-7 page final paper for Aesthetics due a week from next Wednesday when we receive our topics. I can feel a case of carpal-tunnel coming on. Oh... there it is...
I noticed that I opened this entry with a blurb about my erratic moods, and now that I have written so much more, I don't know why I began it that way. Perhaps it is further evidence of my spastic mind, or perhaps I just got a little off topic. I am happy, but I could be happier. I've been thinking a lot about love lately, or lack thereof. There's so much I want to do, so many people I want to see, I think I'm just going to chill out and let things play out. The greatest things happen to me when I least expect them, and when I have not planned on them.
I've come to cherish the small moments. An arresting gaze from a crush; a gentle kiss to say good-bye; a laugh and a gesture that rips your guts open with its hilarity; cigarette smoke curling in the still air of a stoner's gaze; exhaling deeply, only to smile and breathe in the world once again.
This is what I live for.
A strange thing happened to me last Wednesday. Kailey and I, stoned and giggly, decide, randomly, that we were going to go to Stop & Shop around 9:30P or so. As we're walking in, Kailey sees a kid she used to go to NSJSHS with. She runs over and hugs him. It was then I realized that he was not alone, and in his tracks, among others, was one Adam Muratori. We stood in a group, chatting for at least five minutes before one of the guys asks me: "Have we met?" That's when Adam cuts in with: "Come on. You know Erik." Then the kid (Josh, as it turns out) says: "Ohhh... yeah." Nice, huh? Then Adam says to me: "So how's... Pinelli's?" "It's okay I guess." And that was all. Kailey pulled me away and once we were out of their earshot she apologized, but she didn't have to, it wasn't her fault. Now, there are a few reasons why this is such a strange occurrence.
(1) I have not seen Adam since August 13th (I remember the date only because it was Friday the 13th and the night of the Sarah McLachlan concert), and I thought that if I did ever run into him, it would be at work. Not at the local grocer. Yeah. Weird. (2) I've been thinking a lot about this boy lately. More than usual. Over these months, he's left the front of my mind and parked himself far in the back, beneath my insecurities and neuroses. But for some reason, he's been in my mind. I almost felt like I was unconsciously preparing myself for something. And this was it. I must have an intuition for some things. (3) I thought I knew myself well enough to know that, when I did finally see him after three months, I'd be once again consumed by the passion I knew so well so long ago. But I wasn't. He looked terrible and tired, and the fact that he had nothing to say to me but "How's Pinelli's?" left me a bit disconcerted. Maybe if we were alone, it'd be different. But somehow I doubt it.
The Renaud Thanksgiving Celebration was held at my house this year. My entire family, myself included, was stressed out, worrying about supplies, guests, and my father's endless procrastination in putting the hardwood floors down in the dining room and parlor. But, surprisingly, everything went off without a hitch. A buffet style dinner allowed everyone to sit wherever they wanted. And since my family is a bit clique-y, everyone was pleased. We had at least fifteen different desserts (most of them terrific). Aimee, Jill, and their friend Doug from Cali came by. We chilled out, laughed a shit-load, and closed off the night with some reefer. I did not fight with my parents once all day, and for the first time I assisted my mother in the preparation and distribution of the food. Usually, I feel a bit alienated from my extended family. I guess every young kid does at one time, but this has been a consistent cycle for several years now. Actually lending a helping hand, though, made me feel more included, and even more loved. Plus, my sister was the brat of the day, and I was the angel. (Never thought that would happen.)
The semester is nearly over. Thank the Almighty as he smiles down from heaven upon my feeble soul! Don't get me wrong, I love college. I love the people and the parties and the odd situations I find myself in on a regular basis. Plus, I'm loving the idea that there is a wealth of knowledge out there that pertains to my interests, and I decide what I want and when I want it. It's liberating. And so unlike high school that sometimes I feel like I'm not in school at all, at least 'school' in the sense that I used to think of it.
The only problem lately is that I have so much to write. Not only have I been nursing this novel idea for more than a month now and plan/hope to start it soon, I have an extensive paper on MULHOLLAND DRIVE due next week for film class, three papers for writing class (a gender topic, my definition of a perfect life, and a mini-research paper) that are long overdue, and a 4-7 page final paper for Aesthetics due a week from next Wednesday when we receive our topics. I can feel a case of carpal-tunnel coming on. Oh... there it is...
I noticed that I opened this entry with a blurb about my erratic moods, and now that I have written so much more, I don't know why I began it that way. Perhaps it is further evidence of my spastic mind, or perhaps I just got a little off topic. I am happy, but I could be happier. I've been thinking a lot about love lately, or lack thereof. There's so much I want to do, so many people I want to see, I think I'm just going to chill out and let things play out. The greatest things happen to me when I least expect them, and when I have not planned on them.
I've come to cherish the small moments. An arresting gaze from a crush; a gentle kiss to say good-bye; a laugh and a gesture that rips your guts open with its hilarity; cigarette smoke curling in the still air of a stoner's gaze; exhaling deeply, only to smile and breathe in the world once again.
This is what I live for.