(no subject)
This sucks. I don't usually like to complain about things like this, because I have amazing opportunities this semester, and things really are working out well. But it sucks that I'm off campus, that i have friendships that were just starting to be really good (i.e. Chels) friendships that were starting to heal, and now I have to sit home an hour and a half away, while everyone else gets to live here
In retrospect, I sound like a whiny child. But I am missing one of my favorite parts of the school year- the beginning. When we move all our stuff in, spend ridiculous, and frankly unnecessary amounts of time deciding precisely how we want things, how we want our decorations, what our "theme" is, even though we will end up changing everything in two weeks anyways. I'm sitting on the floor of the apartment that used to be mine, that will still be mine come next semester, but it is not mine. I am a guest here, I ask to borrow stuff, i am unprepared to deal with this. Usually I am the one extending the offers, preparing the pullout couch that I am now spending the night on.
I want to be here for it all. Maybe it's the nosiness that's been a part of me since I was a child (hence my refusal to take naps as a 2-year-old) or maybe it's just fear. Fear that I'll miss something big, that by being away, I'll miss opportunities, friendships, experiences that I'll never get to make again.
This all sounded like such a good idea at the end of last semester, when I was all burned out from taking my hardest course load ever, with it being such an emotional roller coaster of a year, that I just needed to be home for a while and be with my family, then set off from that secure base onto my grand solo adventure (yes, it is officially now completely solo). But I have realized that I have grown up. I love my family, need my family, but I don't survive based on my family anymore. I have become more independant, I have ways I like to do things, goals I want to achieve that don't necessarily center around them. It sounds horribly selfish, but I no longer want to move in next door to my parents, teach at Starpoint and live in Pendleton for the rest of my life like I did when I went to college. I want to travel, to meet new people, to go out and really live. Not that my family hinders that or anything, but they don't have the same dreams and perhaps silly fantasies that I have. I told my mom the other day that I want to go visit her family in Scotland (i have older relatives there) and she looked at me like I was crazy and said "why would you want to do that? they're all just drunks anyways." But i want to know my history, be able to point at a map and say "That's where I'm from" ... I want to talk to my great aunts and uncles and hear their accents for myself. I went to my family reunion a couple weekends ago, and honestly nobody but me and my cousin Andrew (who is quickly becoming one of my best friends/real blood brother) seemed excited to be there. It was a little tense and at times blatantly awkward.
One thing I realized while slaving away my life at Walgreen's this summer, working 12 hours shifts and putting in the overtime that they yell at me every week for: I don't want to get to a point in my life, look around me and go "What am I doing? What have I really accomplished?" Granted this summer didn't seem as disillusioning as previous Walgreen's infested summers...I have managed to really invest in some people at work, reach out (mostly through baked goods) and hopefully encourage a couple of people.
And now I lay here, on a pullout couch in an apartment that used to smell like cookies and pizza, and be crowded with people, and realize that sometimes in life, you have to make a choice. You have to hope that the friendships you have, the relationships you've built, the memories you've made, will last, will endure, at least until you come back. you have to realize that, yes, there will be memories made without you, pictures missing your face in them, but at the same time, you are making your own memories, creating networks of relationships and friendships with people that have lasting effects and deep rewards. I remember Jonathan told me once that if it came down to sleep or spending time with friends that wouldn't be there for very long, he'd pick friends. You can always sleep longer. So that's what I'll do this semester. i will invest, I will take every opportunity, I will relish every experience, so that at the end, when I come back to Houghton in the spring and people asked me if it was a good semester, I can confidently say "Yes, it was a good semester" It will not be without trials, heartache, or pain, but it will help me grow and really decide if teaching is what I want to do for the rest of my life, and how to balance my passion for history and high school kids with my friendships and relationships.
There is nothing I want more for you then to realize the dreams you have held onto for so long, have sacrificed so much for, have worked so hard towards. When you can truly feel happiness for someone regardless of the cost to yourself, that is when you know you have found a true friend. Your happiness is my happiness.
To a new semester: may it be full of life, laughter, learning, and strength.
In retrospect, I sound like a whiny child. But I am missing one of my favorite parts of the school year- the beginning. When we move all our stuff in, spend ridiculous, and frankly unnecessary amounts of time deciding precisely how we want things, how we want our decorations, what our "theme" is, even though we will end up changing everything in two weeks anyways. I'm sitting on the floor of the apartment that used to be mine, that will still be mine come next semester, but it is not mine. I am a guest here, I ask to borrow stuff, i am unprepared to deal with this. Usually I am the one extending the offers, preparing the pullout couch that I am now spending the night on.
I want to be here for it all. Maybe it's the nosiness that's been a part of me since I was a child (hence my refusal to take naps as a 2-year-old) or maybe it's just fear. Fear that I'll miss something big, that by being away, I'll miss opportunities, friendships, experiences that I'll never get to make again.
This all sounded like such a good idea at the end of last semester, when I was all burned out from taking my hardest course load ever, with it being such an emotional roller coaster of a year, that I just needed to be home for a while and be with my family, then set off from that secure base onto my grand solo adventure (yes, it is officially now completely solo). But I have realized that I have grown up. I love my family, need my family, but I don't survive based on my family anymore. I have become more independant, I have ways I like to do things, goals I want to achieve that don't necessarily center around them. It sounds horribly selfish, but I no longer want to move in next door to my parents, teach at Starpoint and live in Pendleton for the rest of my life like I did when I went to college. I want to travel, to meet new people, to go out and really live. Not that my family hinders that or anything, but they don't have the same dreams and perhaps silly fantasies that I have. I told my mom the other day that I want to go visit her family in Scotland (i have older relatives there) and she looked at me like I was crazy and said "why would you want to do that? they're all just drunks anyways." But i want to know my history, be able to point at a map and say "That's where I'm from" ... I want to talk to my great aunts and uncles and hear their accents for myself. I went to my family reunion a couple weekends ago, and honestly nobody but me and my cousin Andrew (who is quickly becoming one of my best friends/real blood brother) seemed excited to be there. It was a little tense and at times blatantly awkward.
One thing I realized while slaving away my life at Walgreen's this summer, working 12 hours shifts and putting in the overtime that they yell at me every week for: I don't want to get to a point in my life, look around me and go "What am I doing? What have I really accomplished?" Granted this summer didn't seem as disillusioning as previous Walgreen's infested summers...I have managed to really invest in some people at work, reach out (mostly through baked goods) and hopefully encourage a couple of people.
And now I lay here, on a pullout couch in an apartment that used to smell like cookies and pizza, and be crowded with people, and realize that sometimes in life, you have to make a choice. You have to hope that the friendships you have, the relationships you've built, the memories you've made, will last, will endure, at least until you come back. you have to realize that, yes, there will be memories made without you, pictures missing your face in them, but at the same time, you are making your own memories, creating networks of relationships and friendships with people that have lasting effects and deep rewards. I remember Jonathan told me once that if it came down to sleep or spending time with friends that wouldn't be there for very long, he'd pick friends. You can always sleep longer. So that's what I'll do this semester. i will invest, I will take every opportunity, I will relish every experience, so that at the end, when I come back to Houghton in the spring and people asked me if it was a good semester, I can confidently say "Yes, it was a good semester" It will not be without trials, heartache, or pain, but it will help me grow and really decide if teaching is what I want to do for the rest of my life, and how to balance my passion for history and high school kids with my friendships and relationships.
There is nothing I want more for you then to realize the dreams you have held onto for so long, have sacrificed so much for, have worked so hard towards. When you can truly feel happiness for someone regardless of the cost to yourself, that is when you know you have found a true friend. Your happiness is my happiness.
To a new semester: may it be full of life, laughter, learning, and strength.