Today I woke up feeling not quite put together, and after a string of minor incidents I pretty much went to pieces. Not in a bad or depressing way, not in a completely liberating way either. In the Adams bathroom before my mock interview I thought, how little and how much people know of each other. There's so much feeling between people that goes unsaid. There's so much I see of people that I wish I could let them know that I see. At the same time I know there's much more. I thought about other people's thoughts. And I thought, how many thoughts like these do people have while standing around, washing their hands in a public restroom, checking their mail, walking to class? Probably an endless amount. How much do I miss?
Then I had my mock medical school interview, and it hit me that I am going to be a doctor someday. Where I'll be doesn't matter very much when I think about it in those terms. Very, very soon I'm not going to be a college student anymore. I feel so small. We grow to fit the expanse of our environment, and then we move to places much bigger. Sometimes I would like to crawl back into the smallest space I can remember, when my world was the four walls of my teeny bedroom. When I could fit all my favorite trinkets on a little plastic yellow chair and point to that spot as everything I had. As a kid my room was a complete mess, but everything on that chair was carefully ordered. Sigh sigh sigh.
After my interview, I went to our last ASK reflection session and I was given a piece of paper that told me I made life lovely and a little pot of burnt orange roses and my little self distinctly crumbled at that moment. My mind spun and spun, thinking about the people here and how they give me such clear, strong images of how I would like to be. Such lighthearted fun while the weight of what they give was pulling me inside. So many feelings at once, I've been trying to fit everything together, but there's no order, none whatsoever. Growing up happens in so many directions.
I came back to my room, chose a playlist and started writing in my personal journal. I haven't written much in the past couple of months. Not just because I was busy, but because I was trying to get outside of myself, to share the things I'd normally hole up in there with other people. But I think I miss myself, I miss that relationship. I realized that ultimately, that's who I will always return to, and I don't want to abandon that. I also realized that another reason it's been hard is because I have no idea what's going on with me. Everything's so disconnected, and I have no concrete words for how I feel. I wanted to write and write until I had nothing left to say, but I flipped the pages and found that I had only a few pages left. It wouldn't feel right to start a new one until after I leave Boston, so I saved them.
I did start a list of what I would like. Just anything. Things I'd like to do, have, see. In the process of doing that I started crying and I went on crying for a good twenty minutes as my playlist drifted through Rachael Yamagata, Joni Mitchell, Oasis, Iron & Wine, the Chili Peppers, Coldplay. All these sounds that have become such a part of me. I wasn't sad, I'm not sad. It was just a too-much-feeling cry, and I'm sitting right in front of my window and in front of the sky that will not stop raining after days and days of gray, and I thought of what Jackie said about crying with the world, and I felt like it was all right.
This song by Heather Nova is about how all that's left of a beautiful night fits into a paper cup. How nice that would be. It reminds me of that moment in Garden State when she catches his single tear in a paper cup. Yes, it might be nice to be contained. But spilling over is what we do.
Sunday, May 14, 2006
Monday, May 8, 2006
hudson river valley
This past weekend I took my last trip to New York to see Andrew. There's still graduation, but we both knew that would be different. We had such a good time. I got there Friday afternoon, and he'd pulled an all-nighter the night before so we took a late afternoon nap. He's always so still when sleeping, whereas I move around a lot. But I find that when we nap I stay still too, like the calming presence he has when I'm awake translates to my sleep too. I was surprised to wake up an hour later to find his hand still on mine, the way we'd fallen asleep.
After dinner we went to a bowling alley, which was packed because I guess there's not much else to do in those little towns. I didn't do too well, though I still think it's partly because my bowling ball was too light! Anyway, I felt like we were on a junior high date, not that I ever went on dates like that in junior high. I like having a sense of that innocence at this stage in my life.
On Saturday we went on a mission to find a KFC, because I'd been reading about KFC in my Food & Culture book on my bus ride over, and I developed a craving for it that wouldn't go away. It's always been my favorite fast food chain. So we found one on the internet and went out to look for it. The directions were screwy, and we stopped at two gas stations for assistance before getting there. Once there we got a bucket of extra crispy chicken, mashed potatoes and gravy, cole slaw and biscuits. Mmmmm. We headed back to West Point and had a nice short walk from the parking lot to his room. His campus is so incredibly beautiful. Green everywhere. He brought back a blanket from his room and we had a fried chicken picnic at Trophy Point, which is where the first two photos below are from. We took our time eating, and enjoyed lying atop soft ground and grass. The sun kept shifting, making us unbearably warm at some points and comfortably cool at others. It made me very aware of the environment.
I thought I'd never post photos like this but I love these, and want to remember them. He's always been a natural at these take-it-yourself pictures. I love how green everything looks in the background.
The bottom two, and most of the photos at the end, are from Bear Mountain Park, where we went on Sunday. It was gorgeous. The water was so green, there were so many people out doing family things. I'm always amazed by the sheer amount of trees in that area. After that he drove me to the train station so I could head back to the city. I've always loved that winding drive amidst the high hills from the Peekskill train station to West Point, or the other way. The first time I experienced it was during winter, and I've seen it through the seasons. It's breathtaking each time. I get really dizzy in his Jeep, which makes the breeze from open windows more refreshing. The trees stretch on and on, and even though it's all green, the view seems to change with every second. During this drive we stopped at the viewpoint, which I've wanted to do for awhile. It was beautiful, but not the same as seeing it from the moving car. I realized that I think a lot about those trips to his school in terms of motion and stillness. I feel so settled while moving along that road.
After dinner we went to a bowling alley, which was packed because I guess there's not much else to do in those little towns. I didn't do too well, though I still think it's partly because my bowling ball was too light! Anyway, I felt like we were on a junior high date, not that I ever went on dates like that in junior high. I like having a sense of that innocence at this stage in my life.
On Saturday we went on a mission to find a KFC, because I'd been reading about KFC in my Food & Culture book on my bus ride over, and I developed a craving for it that wouldn't go away. It's always been my favorite fast food chain. So we found one on the internet and went out to look for it. The directions were screwy, and we stopped at two gas stations for assistance before getting there. Once there we got a bucket of extra crispy chicken, mashed potatoes and gravy, cole slaw and biscuits. Mmmmm. We headed back to West Point and had a nice short walk from the parking lot to his room. His campus is so incredibly beautiful. Green everywhere. He brought back a blanket from his room and we had a fried chicken picnic at Trophy Point, which is where the first two photos below are from. We took our time eating, and enjoyed lying atop soft ground and grass. The sun kept shifting, making us unbearably warm at some points and comfortably cool at others. It made me very aware of the environment.
I thought I'd never post photos like this but I love these, and want to remember them. He's always been a natural at these take-it-yourself pictures. I love how green everything looks in the background.
The bottom two, and most of the photos at the end, are from Bear Mountain Park, where we went on Sunday. It was gorgeous. The water was so green, there were so many people out doing family things. I'm always amazed by the sheer amount of trees in that area. After that he drove me to the train station so I could head back to the city. I've always loved that winding drive amidst the high hills from the Peekskill train station to West Point, or the other way. The first time I experienced it was during winter, and I've seen it through the seasons. It's breathtaking each time. I get really dizzy in his Jeep, which makes the breeze from open windows more refreshing. The trees stretch on and on, and even though it's all green, the view seems to change with every second. During this drive we stopped at the viewpoint, which I've wanted to do for awhile. It was beautiful, but not the same as seeing it from the moving car. I realized that I think a lot about those trips to his school in terms of motion and stillness. I feel so settled while moving along that road.
Monday, May 1, 2006
a new time
This weekend has been the first time in an incredibly long while that I’ve felt like I was living the parts of college I love most. I feel like I’m at school again, and more myself, more a part of the outside world, sensitive to its pleasures.
On Thursday night I had dinner with Julia, my thesis advisor and a grad student in the English department, at the Adams Faculty Dinner, along with Victoria Wang and her TF for Sex & Sensibility in the Enlightenment. It was so much fun to hear gossip about celebrities of the literary world, to share our infatuation with the absolutely gorgeous Zadie Smith, to find that people with literary lives also have normal lives much like mine. It was like a dinner with girlfriends, and books weren’t nerdy but instead the common thing to love, in the same way a group of junior high girls could bond over clothes and boys. Every profession or passion occupies its own little sphere, and it was nice to be a part of that.
On Friday night we went to Café India for Andrea’s birthday. The food was unbelievably heavenly. The sauce for the chicken tikka masala was creamy, rich and light at the same time, so full of subtle and strong spices and tastes. I can still remember lifting the spoon warmed from the heat of the dish, carrying just the slightest bit of sauce, to my mouth. I like introducing myself to meals by getting the hints of flavor where they’re most strong—in sauces, broths, and the like. That first taste is always the best, but it’s wonderful when each bite after that is almost as surprisingly good as the first. The naan was fluffy and warm, and so comforting, and so good with the sauce from my meal. The company, too, was warm and comfortable, and the evening was still bright when I returned to my room, making me feel spring very deeply.
On Saturday night Amy, Jen and I went to Maciej’s birthday party and Mather Lather. After Amy and I got dressed we looked at each other and just started laughing. I rarely wear shorts in California, and here we were, looking like we were heading to the beach on a cold East-Coast night. It actually wasn’t as cold out as I had anticipated, though later when we were heading back I felt like my unprotected toes in flip-flops were definitely going to get frostbite. We went to Maciej’s first, but we were early and no one was there (not even Maciej) except a couple of his roommates who were nice enough to make us (several) drinks. There ended up being a line for drinks later so it was nice to get first dibs on sake. Their music was amusing, a mix of cheesy dance staples, old old old popular songs and year-ago favorites. We went semi-nuts when they played Real McCoy. While there, Amy ran into a coworker from HSA and his friend—nice, endearingly dorky but somewhat sketchy people who became defining symbols of the night’s later craziness.
We headed to Mather Lather around 11:30, which is Harvard’s infamous foam party. Suds pour in waterfalls from machines high above, and the floors are soaked in bubbles. I love how we can be crazy but still prudish compared to everyone else. We’d been embarrassed by our shorts but we were surrounded by girls in bikinis. We all squirmed when we took off our flip-flops and stepped onto the slippery floor, and none of us liked the sensation of accidentally brushing soapy skin with strangers. Jen and Amy are without question the most fun girls ever, and the best protection from sketchy boys with Asian fetishes. Although at one point I was really frightened that they were going to leave me behind in an attempt to evade aforementioned sketchy duo, and I was not ready to be stuck with that. While this is bothersome, I imagine it’s much worse being a guy, and seeing girls run away from you. Anyhow, it was a much-needed release to drink and dance and laugh, all to extreme levels, and also to jog a little in the streets because it was cold.
On Sunday night, we had Yardfest with BEN FOLDS. It was an amazingly beautiful day, and the steps of Widener were spotted with people, and Sever Yard was overflowing with Harvard sweatshirts. We staked out a spot near the stage of Memorial Church, and wandered a bit before the show started. Amy got on a tire swing and went flying through the air, courtesy of my dorm crew partner who was kind enough to push her. Not much later the concert started, and it was so so wonderful. That piano live gave me goosebumps; he tears that thing to pieces in one song and puts it back together in the next without blinking an eye behind those dorky glasses. He made up a bunch of little tunes throughout the show, including one centered on Eliot House, moving between major and minor keys to convey different tones—so creative and talented. Favorites include Kate (!!), Bastard, Jesusland, Rockin’ the Suburbs, Cooler Than You, the incredible encore of One Angry Dwarf.
What I love most is how his blunt humor can melt into incredibly moving and delicate feeling. When he ended the show with “Not the Same” he introduced the song by telling us it was about a man who climbed up a tree while on acid, and after coming down, decided to become a pastor. He commented that we should look into using this tactic to revive Southern spirtuality, making us laugh. Then he taught us a three-part harmony, splitting up the audience into people with low, high and higher voices. The night was dusk-colored by this time, and the huge crowds had dissipated a bit, so everything was a little more solemn though no less energenic. The sound of all of us creating this music in the night was so lovely. A little surreal to think how nice it sounds collectively, even as I’m sure most of the individual voices (like mine) are not musically-inclined. Then he sang sweetly and poignantly, and at the end, stood up conducting us in our harmony, going back and forth between sections of the crowd and motioning for us to go lower, higher, faster, slower. With the backdrop of Memorial Church (which looks so beautiful at night) and dark blue night skies, with the many voices permeating the air, it did feel spiritual.
It made me think, feelings are so seamless.
On Thursday night I had dinner with Julia, my thesis advisor and a grad student in the English department, at the Adams Faculty Dinner, along with Victoria Wang and her TF for Sex & Sensibility in the Enlightenment. It was so much fun to hear gossip about celebrities of the literary world, to share our infatuation with the absolutely gorgeous Zadie Smith, to find that people with literary lives also have normal lives much like mine. It was like a dinner with girlfriends, and books weren’t nerdy but instead the common thing to love, in the same way a group of junior high girls could bond over clothes and boys. Every profession or passion occupies its own little sphere, and it was nice to be a part of that.
On Friday night we went to Café India for Andrea’s birthday. The food was unbelievably heavenly. The sauce for the chicken tikka masala was creamy, rich and light at the same time, so full of subtle and strong spices and tastes. I can still remember lifting the spoon warmed from the heat of the dish, carrying just the slightest bit of sauce, to my mouth. I like introducing myself to meals by getting the hints of flavor where they’re most strong—in sauces, broths, and the like. That first taste is always the best, but it’s wonderful when each bite after that is almost as surprisingly good as the first. The naan was fluffy and warm, and so comforting, and so good with the sauce from my meal. The company, too, was warm and comfortable, and the evening was still bright when I returned to my room, making me feel spring very deeply.
On Saturday night Amy, Jen and I went to Maciej’s birthday party and Mather Lather. After Amy and I got dressed we looked at each other and just started laughing. I rarely wear shorts in California, and here we were, looking like we were heading to the beach on a cold East-Coast night. It actually wasn’t as cold out as I had anticipated, though later when we were heading back I felt like my unprotected toes in flip-flops were definitely going to get frostbite. We went to Maciej’s first, but we were early and no one was there (not even Maciej) except a couple of his roommates who were nice enough to make us (several) drinks. There ended up being a line for drinks later so it was nice to get first dibs on sake. Their music was amusing, a mix of cheesy dance staples, old old old popular songs and year-ago favorites. We went semi-nuts when they played Real McCoy. While there, Amy ran into a coworker from HSA and his friend—nice, endearingly dorky but somewhat sketchy people who became defining symbols of the night’s later craziness.
We headed to Mather Lather around 11:30, which is Harvard’s infamous foam party. Suds pour in waterfalls from machines high above, and the floors are soaked in bubbles. I love how we can be crazy but still prudish compared to everyone else. We’d been embarrassed by our shorts but we were surrounded by girls in bikinis. We all squirmed when we took off our flip-flops and stepped onto the slippery floor, and none of us liked the sensation of accidentally brushing soapy skin with strangers. Jen and Amy are without question the most fun girls ever, and the best protection from sketchy boys with Asian fetishes. Although at one point I was really frightened that they were going to leave me behind in an attempt to evade aforementioned sketchy duo, and I was not ready to be stuck with that. While this is bothersome, I imagine it’s much worse being a guy, and seeing girls run away from you. Anyhow, it was a much-needed release to drink and dance and laugh, all to extreme levels, and also to jog a little in the streets because it was cold.
On Sunday night, we had Yardfest with BEN FOLDS. It was an amazingly beautiful day, and the steps of Widener were spotted with people, and Sever Yard was overflowing with Harvard sweatshirts. We staked out a spot near the stage of Memorial Church, and wandered a bit before the show started. Amy got on a tire swing and went flying through the air, courtesy of my dorm crew partner who was kind enough to push her. Not much later the concert started, and it was so so wonderful. That piano live gave me goosebumps; he tears that thing to pieces in one song and puts it back together in the next without blinking an eye behind those dorky glasses. He made up a bunch of little tunes throughout the show, including one centered on Eliot House, moving between major and minor keys to convey different tones—so creative and talented. Favorites include Kate (!!), Bastard, Jesusland, Rockin’ the Suburbs, Cooler Than You, the incredible encore of One Angry Dwarf.
What I love most is how his blunt humor can melt into incredibly moving and delicate feeling. When he ended the show with “Not the Same” he introduced the song by telling us it was about a man who climbed up a tree while on acid, and after coming down, decided to become a pastor. He commented that we should look into using this tactic to revive Southern spirtuality, making us laugh. Then he taught us a three-part harmony, splitting up the audience into people with low, high and higher voices. The night was dusk-colored by this time, and the huge crowds had dissipated a bit, so everything was a little more solemn though no less energenic. The sound of all of us creating this music in the night was so lovely. A little surreal to think how nice it sounds collectively, even as I’m sure most of the individual voices (like mine) are not musically-inclined. Then he sang sweetly and poignantly, and at the end, stood up conducting us in our harmony, going back and forth between sections of the crowd and motioning for us to go lower, higher, faster, slower. With the backdrop of Memorial Church (which looks so beautiful at night) and dark blue night skies, with the many voices permeating the air, it did feel spiritual.
It made me think, feelings are so seamless.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
