5.15 - That Old Irish Melancholy
Maybe it's the time of night. Maybe it's the fact that I haven't eaten anything substantial all day. Maybe it's loneliness. For whatever reason, I'm listening to a number of sad celtic tunes and feeling what I've termed aquamarine - the combination of blues and greens. It's like having the blues, or feeling blue, but with an Irish twist (green). Irish romances and tragedies have always appealed to me and aquamarine sums up the Catholic guilt tied with Irishness which in my head amounts to a certain responsibility you feel for your own suffering. So, here I am feeling sad and somehow responsible for it. Aquamarine.
To catch you up, I've been fully licensed and insured by the state to operate a Class C motor vehicle since June 24. I had the same soft-spoken taskmaster at the DMV. She passed me, but not without a certain editorializing sentiment I could have done without. Regardless, I got the license and my Mom's Ford Focus and am now commuting with varying degrees of success from Penn State Behrend - where I'm taking six classes. Their classes are less difficult than Allegheny's, but still require time and effort. Plus, I'm on campus for twelve hours a day Monday through Thursday which is draining in itself. The upside is I'm three weeks into eight and two of those weeks are half-weeks. Go me.
I'm taking a classical myth class, one on the evolution of jazz, their intro to int'l studies, then a rhetoric and composition class (intro to english writing), intro to ethics by way of philosophy, and finally a contemporary literature course with four other people (at least one of whom is consistently absent for, dropping that figure to three).
That latest anecdote of any import came last night. It was the end of an especially difficult week, I was exhausted, and had an invitation to party with the lovely ladies of the Castle. As usual with Contemporary Lit, we got out early around 8:15 (versus 8:50) and walking out in the rose sunsetted twilight, I was feeling great. Week three down, a party - all just a forty five minute drive away. Well, the Fates managed to conjure something to block THAT scenario. Construction on I-90 led me to sit in traffic going 20 mph when I wasn't sitting still for the ten miles I had to cover to get onto I-79. What should've taken ten minutes took thirty five. I sped down I-79, but the trip still took close to an hour and a quarter.
I stopped by the Asylum to drop of my books, spray myself with Axe, and put on the belt I'd forgotten that morning. I drove over to the Castle and quickly got into the spirit of the thing. I chatted with people, played (badly) a few games of beer pong with Heather, then lost (badly) at flip cup. Although, it was against the flip cup champions of the Castle - and both the Idol and Hero conditioned me to loathe flip cup. Still, when a bevy of charming young ladies are across the table...bloody hell, who WOULDN'T want to play?!?
The evening was relaxing and I was stupid coming home - without incident, but something which will never be repeated on principle. I passed out close to 1:30 and woke up close to twelve hours later.
So, nothing's really wrong. My life is (dare I say it?) good right now. I'm graduating on my schedule, I have friends, a car, everything but a bank account and mate. But I've done without those for so long that it's become customary. Still...my habit of malaise is too deeply rooted and to satisfy my mind, I still need a few nights of Irish melancholy where I listen to sad music, think sad thoughts, and pine for that anima which exists only in my aquamarine mood.
To catch you up, I've been fully licensed and insured by the state to operate a Class C motor vehicle since June 24. I had the same soft-spoken taskmaster at the DMV. She passed me, but not without a certain editorializing sentiment I could have done without. Regardless, I got the license and my Mom's Ford Focus and am now commuting with varying degrees of success from Penn State Behrend - where I'm taking six classes. Their classes are less difficult than Allegheny's, but still require time and effort. Plus, I'm on campus for twelve hours a day Monday through Thursday which is draining in itself. The upside is I'm three weeks into eight and two of those weeks are half-weeks. Go me.
I'm taking a classical myth class, one on the evolution of jazz, their intro to int'l studies, then a rhetoric and composition class (intro to english writing), intro to ethics by way of philosophy, and finally a contemporary literature course with four other people (at least one of whom is consistently absent for, dropping that figure to three).
That latest anecdote of any import came last night. It was the end of an especially difficult week, I was exhausted, and had an invitation to party with the lovely ladies of the Castle. As usual with Contemporary Lit, we got out early around 8:15 (versus 8:50) and walking out in the rose sunsetted twilight, I was feeling great. Week three down, a party - all just a forty five minute drive away. Well, the Fates managed to conjure something to block THAT scenario. Construction on I-90 led me to sit in traffic going 20 mph when I wasn't sitting still for the ten miles I had to cover to get onto I-79. What should've taken ten minutes took thirty five. I sped down I-79, but the trip still took close to an hour and a quarter.
I stopped by the Asylum to drop of my books, spray myself with Axe, and put on the belt I'd forgotten that morning. I drove over to the Castle and quickly got into the spirit of the thing. I chatted with people, played (badly) a few games of beer pong with Heather, then lost (badly) at flip cup. Although, it was against the flip cup champions of the Castle - and both the Idol and Hero conditioned me to loathe flip cup. Still, when a bevy of charming young ladies are across the table...bloody hell, who WOULDN'T want to play?!?
The evening was relaxing and I was stupid coming home - without incident, but something which will never be repeated on principle. I passed out close to 1:30 and woke up close to twelve hours later.
So, nothing's really wrong. My life is (dare I say it?) good right now. I'm graduating on my schedule, I have friends, a car, everything but a bank account and mate. But I've done without those for so long that it's become customary. Still...my habit of malaise is too deeply rooted and to satisfy my mind, I still need a few nights of Irish melancholy where I listen to sad music, think sad thoughts, and pine for that anima which exists only in my aquamarine mood.