(no subject)
Looking at the journals of various LJ friends, I suddenly became very sad. Many of them haven't had any sort of entry since 2006 or earlier. Really, this shouldn't make me sad in and of itself; people are still alive and doing things, they just aren't taking the time to write about them in excruciating detail. Still, I can't help but feel both this sense of disconnection and nostalgia: these were people I had in my life, and for many of them their exit from my life and livejournal are somewhat contemporary. Livejournal is like a yearbook of people I've lost touch with, or who are far away and whom I communicate less with than I used to. Young as I am, I completely understand that lyric from Baz Luhrman's sunscreen song, "The older you get, the more you need the people you knew when you were young." I already feel like I need some of these people, these people who know my past.
Chloe, you've talked about moving back to Austin and I find myself feeling as if, with you back in Austin, you'll pick up the life we each left behind and I'll still be out here missing it somehow. If I think about this too hard, it really starts to freak me out. After coming out here for school, it always felt as if this was temporary and I would eventually head back to Austin and be back with the old routine of LBJ. It's a feeling I have largely shaken, but it's come roaring back to me right now. It's easy to understand how this could be: I lived in Austin all my life and, of all the schools I attended, I spent the longest at LBJ. The longest amount of time during the period which I am able to recall most vividly--that's why LBJ seems like a life I am always destined to return to. I was only at Berkeley for four years, so it merely ties LBJ and that time flew by much faster. Does this mean I need to work four plus years before I stop feeling this way completely? Or does everyone go through life feeling like their supposed to go back to highschool? There are times where the selective vision of nostalgia makes me want to go back. I remember how school always felt before winter break--I want to feel that again. I want to relive those idle summers of dull part-time jobs and long, meandering nights with friends. I want to come home from Bed Bath and Beyond, make a caprece sandwich, and go to Weird Wednesday.
In the movie K-Pax Kevin Spacey's character tell the lead that he has to avoid making mistakes in life because the universe is cyclical, it expands and collapses, expands and collapses, and the same things happen over and over again. I like this idea, at least as my life has gone so far. If someone told me, "Don't worry, you'll have all these feelings again an infinite number of times from here to eternity," I wouldn't mind it. My life hasn't felt monotonous so far, so even if this is the trillionth time around, I'll take another trillion and then some. If I start to think even harder about this, I get bogged down in philosophical questions of whether anything can really be real outside of the present moment, and that is not pleasant to think about, so I'll try not to.
Meanwhile, things continue to go well in my life. Work is good, the apartment is good, friends are good. I could use a good date or a good boyfriend, but I expect those will come in good time. I go on plenty of dates, I am neither timid nor particularly picky about dates. Second dates are where picky comes in. It's not that I'm narrow minded, but I just know how that spark feels and if I don't feel the spark, I get discouraged. I am also good at feeling the potential for a spark, so I don't necessarily write off sparkless dates. Maybe sometimes I fail to see potential, but I don't think it's fair to ask someone to be on the lookout for potential potential--that's just crazy.
Saturday, for instance, I had a lunch date with a guy I met at '80s night a few weeks ago. He was perfectly nice and cute in his way, but the conversation didn't flow. I felt like I was constantly having to prod and stoke it, and by the time the date was two hours in, I was thinking about what I wanted to do after I had left him. That's not how it should be, because I've gone on dates where I didn't want it to end, where I was afraid they were going to say at any minute that they had to leave. I don't think it's too much to ask for dates to be a bit more like that in order for me to really be interested. Then again, times are hard for dreamers.
On the domestic side, I've baked cookies twice this weekend, first on Friday night when Andrew, Anthony, the 406 crowd, etc. came over for games and cookies. The second time was last night when Charlie, William, Rich, and Stephen came over for cookies and a movie. We watched Why Did I Get Married?, which turned out to be really good. Never thought I'd find Janet Jackson a compelling actress, but maybe I'm just naive.
Today was Jeff G.'s Oscar party, which was nice and intimate. Sarah was there, as well as Hung as his mom, and even Mark showed up. We ate a lot of food that involved dips, and sat on the couch/bed making all sorts of color commentary. After that, it was homeward bound, and then I was bored for the rest of the evening.
That's all, I know this has been long, but I figure that after months of nothing, you can deal.
Chloe, you've talked about moving back to Austin and I find myself feeling as if, with you back in Austin, you'll pick up the life we each left behind and I'll still be out here missing it somehow. If I think about this too hard, it really starts to freak me out. After coming out here for school, it always felt as if this was temporary and I would eventually head back to Austin and be back with the old routine of LBJ. It's a feeling I have largely shaken, but it's come roaring back to me right now. It's easy to understand how this could be: I lived in Austin all my life and, of all the schools I attended, I spent the longest at LBJ. The longest amount of time during the period which I am able to recall most vividly--that's why LBJ seems like a life I am always destined to return to. I was only at Berkeley for four years, so it merely ties LBJ and that time flew by much faster. Does this mean I need to work four plus years before I stop feeling this way completely? Or does everyone go through life feeling like their supposed to go back to highschool? There are times where the selective vision of nostalgia makes me want to go back. I remember how school always felt before winter break--I want to feel that again. I want to relive those idle summers of dull part-time jobs and long, meandering nights with friends. I want to come home from Bed Bath and Beyond, make a caprece sandwich, and go to Weird Wednesday.
In the movie K-Pax Kevin Spacey's character tell the lead that he has to avoid making mistakes in life because the universe is cyclical, it expands and collapses, expands and collapses, and the same things happen over and over again. I like this idea, at least as my life has gone so far. If someone told me, "Don't worry, you'll have all these feelings again an infinite number of times from here to eternity," I wouldn't mind it. My life hasn't felt monotonous so far, so even if this is the trillionth time around, I'll take another trillion and then some. If I start to think even harder about this, I get bogged down in philosophical questions of whether anything can really be real outside of the present moment, and that is not pleasant to think about, so I'll try not to.
Meanwhile, things continue to go well in my life. Work is good, the apartment is good, friends are good. I could use a good date or a good boyfriend, but I expect those will come in good time. I go on plenty of dates, I am neither timid nor particularly picky about dates. Second dates are where picky comes in. It's not that I'm narrow minded, but I just know how that spark feels and if I don't feel the spark, I get discouraged. I am also good at feeling the potential for a spark, so I don't necessarily write off sparkless dates. Maybe sometimes I fail to see potential, but I don't think it's fair to ask someone to be on the lookout for potential potential--that's just crazy.
Saturday, for instance, I had a lunch date with a guy I met at '80s night a few weeks ago. He was perfectly nice and cute in his way, but the conversation didn't flow. I felt like I was constantly having to prod and stoke it, and by the time the date was two hours in, I was thinking about what I wanted to do after I had left him. That's not how it should be, because I've gone on dates where I didn't want it to end, where I was afraid they were going to say at any minute that they had to leave. I don't think it's too much to ask for dates to be a bit more like that in order for me to really be interested. Then again, times are hard for dreamers.
On the domestic side, I've baked cookies twice this weekend, first on Friday night when Andrew, Anthony, the 406 crowd, etc. came over for games and cookies. The second time was last night when Charlie, William, Rich, and Stephen came over for cookies and a movie. We watched Why Did I Get Married?, which turned out to be really good. Never thought I'd find Janet Jackson a compelling actress, but maybe I'm just naive.
Today was Jeff G.'s Oscar party, which was nice and intimate. Sarah was there, as well as Hung as his mom, and even Mark showed up. We ate a lot of food that involved dips, and sat on the couch/bed making all sorts of color commentary. After that, it was homeward bound, and then I was bored for the rest of the evening.
That's all, I know this has been long, but I figure that after months of nothing, you can deal.