You are currently browsing the monthly archive for January 2009.

I’m slowly moving toward a level of happiness. I don’t miss him as much anymore, and I can see him and talk to him without getting overwhelmed. This morning, though, I woke up wishing someone was there. I’m just so exhausted I wish someone could help me take care of my apt, take care of me, take care of the things I don’t really have time for because I’m just so busy with school right now. I think the best thing is I can imagine someone else there, someone close, someone real. I still won’t forget but I won’t get stuck on it.

Today’s one hell of a rehearsal day. I’m going to be at the barker/rarig from 11 to 8 p.m. or so. It’s just so much, and my body is really not handling it very well. Yesterday I caved and bought some tiger balm in hopes that I can get through the week without feeling too much pain. Just get through and then rest rest rest rest rest. Plus, you know, 5 hours a day of dance. 🙂

I need to shower so I can get to rehearsal, but I know I will continue writing later.

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School has once again sucked me into a routine. I wake up at 6:15, make coffee, shower, dress, get a ride to ballet, then start my onslaught of classes. Each day I find myself getting more and more tired, feeling less and less rested. This whole University Dance Theatre thing doesn’t help much. In a week and a half, I will be done with it, done with my last UDT. It’s weird, really, I’ve been fortunate enough to do three and it’s all ending so soon.

For the most part, I enjoy my classes. I inadvertently signed up for the Biology 1001 class which focuses on sex and reproduction. Hooray! We watch squirrels having sex, humans having sex, giraffes mating, it’s really exciting. The readings for the course are a bit weird, though. I don’t think I’ve read a text book like that since high school and the “essay” we’re reading called The Red Queen is wrought with problematic, heteronormative discourse. Oh well, I’ll just keep my mouth shut and pass the class to graduate.

The more and more I get to know him, the more and more I want to know. Rarely have I felt so equaled, so engaged, so titillated by mere conversation. We’re not even so much alike. I mean, in some ways we are; both wanting PhDs, but nerds who love Harry Potter, both like cupcakes and Chipotle. I’m cautious, though, cautious of letting go too much, falling in again, making myself too vulnerable. I’ve done a good job of that so far, of being vulnerable. It’s not such a hard thing sometimes, if you’re in the right hands.

I’m finally getting over my ex, maybe not completely, though. I don’t think we ever really get over someone. We just have to keep going with our lives. The feelings don’t change, they just have to move, they have to relocate to the non-feeling part of the body…wherether that is. Just last night, I was able to have a conversation. Granted, it wasn’t in person but it was a step, hopefully in the right direction. Maybe we both just need a little more time to make things easier.

There’s always just too little time to get it all done.

I feel like I’m at a block. I can’t seem to find any words to write or any thoughts to pour over. Maybe I should take this mini mind break as a sign that I’m doing better. I’ve turned my attention elsewhere, or at least have tried. He’s back, though, which makes it harder. Tuesday only comes too soon. Luckily, I’ll be at the Barker even less than I was last year. Maybe not a luckily I’d ever thought I’d say.

My car is done for. I just want to throw it away, get a new one, drive away to California or some new place. I don’t really want to move, just get away for a while. Go to Berlin, sit on a lake, read a book, live out my dreams. I feel like I’m becoming the sort of person who sits around and lets thing happen. I need to make them happen.

This is a worthless post.

I used to think memories floated in pools in my mind; giant think tanks, if you will. Each person would get a pool, each place, each song. The water would flow between the pools, depending on the different interconnections. I used to think there was an endless supply of these pools of water, of space. It seems the older I get, the less space there is, the less I remember, the less I want to remember. I start to decide who gets a pool and who gets a puddle, a tub, a sink. Slowly I differentiate between what should be remembered and what doesn’t really matter. I used to think it all mattered, and I can’t figure out when it changed. Forgetful, absent-minded, and neurotic I have always been…but I’ve always had my memories. They always were clear, crisp, strangely accurate. Now I have muddy puddles, frozen pools, draining bath tubs, and cracked sinks.

2009. It’s started, hasn’t it? As if we had a chance to catch up with the end of the year, the new one marches forward ripping its way through the fabric of time. In no way do I feel different, I sign a different number, 09 09 09…repeat it enough and it’ll become habit. The only thing that’s changed, really is everyone’s mindsets. Must make resolutions, must lose 10 lbs, must go to the gym, must stop smoking, must finish school. As time goes on, though, these promises, empty as they are, fade away just as easily as the 09 becomes easier to remember to sign on your forms.

Looking forward, this is the year I turn 25, the year my driver’s license expires, the year I receive my diploma, the year I have to find a real job. 2009 could prove to be my greatest year yet. With an accomplished resume in hand, I’ll charge the bleak market, hoping some business will be open to the possibility of hiring a dance major in some role that doesn’t require mopping or serving tables. Is it too much to ask for a stable life? (Stable economically, at least) As early as September my loans will go into repayment time which gives me little to no time to find a job. I’m not freaking out, yet though. I still have so much to do before May, so many more accomplishments to fulfill.

Last night I fell asleep with my contacts in for what was probably the third time in a week. Part of my problem is that I lost my glasses. The other part is that I have no one at home to tell me I’m falling asleep and need to take out my contacts. I leave my lights on, fall asleep with my phone in hand, wake up at 4:30 confused and disoriented. I don’t need a chaperone, a man to take care of me, but a friendly reminder to keep me from ruining my eyes would be ever so helpful. It’s just that when you’re alone, sometimes you don’t realize how tired you are, when you’re falling asleep. It’s not the same as when you’re with someone and you feel them fall asleep next to you, twitching. Most people don’t twitch when they fall asleep. My body goes crazy, legs twitching. It’s from all the dancing, I presume. I’ve only met one other person who was like that. Feeling him fall asleep was so comforting, heartbeat, warmth. What is so lovely about another body? Why do we crave that closeness, that intimicay? Wh more do we crave it with some and not others? What makes it easier to fall asleep with one and impossible with another? I never noticed my legs twitching with one, and couldn’t fall asleep with another.

I think if I could make a resolution, a promise, a goal, it would be to figure these things out…figure out what makes one person so special and everyone else just everyone else. I’m sure it’s not in my power to do, but I’ll try.