goodbyes

For whatever reason, it just struck me today that school is over. It's officially summer (well, not officially, actually, but it might as well be) and it completely snuck up on me. Time for everyone to go on their merry summer ways. Or, in my case, not.

Yesterday Maya and I went over to my friend Laura's apartment. Laura had all kinds of food that she didn't want to take home, so she gave a ton of random stuff to us. It was actually really exciting.

Today I went over to my friends' apartment to help them pack, clean, sort, etc. Terra and Lilli both had stuff everywhere when I arrived early afternoon; it was kind of amazing that as much got done as it did tonight. Mostly, I felt like I was just keeping them company, I didn't really do a lot of work. Especially after Terra brought out her wine and I accidentally drank too much of it. I was just enjoying its cold fruitiness and forgot that I basically hadn't eaten anything today... whoops! Tipsiness was not part of the game plan today, but sometimes these things happen. Anyways, not much thanks to me the second half of the night, they're pretty much moved out now. Well, Terra is moved out and Lil will be tomorrow. They both gave us a bunch of food too.

Then came the hard part... we had to say goodbye to Terra. It hit me all of a sudden, the way it does... I am a pretty rare crier - probably only once every three to six months, but when I do cry, it tends to be rather abrupt and I rarely see it coming.

Terra is going to France next year for study abroad and unless I decide to pick up and visit her sometime - which is unlikely, considering the state of my finances - I won't see her til the fall of 2008. A year and four months sounds like a very long time right now. I don't know, it was just hard. I'm going to miss her a lot. I had to work very hard to not have a complete breakdown after she left.

Tomorrow, Laura leaves. Maya and I are going to say goodbye in the morning, but that's going to be hard, too... she's studying abroad in Australia until next November. Six months isn't nearly as long, so I think this goodbye will be easier. I hope.

But then Maya's going to leave... and I don't even know how I'm going to handle that. She's only going to Mexico for six weeks, but it still sounds terribly long. She's such a constant presence in my life now that I don't know what I'll do without her. Lilli's moving in, which is great, because I really think I'd break down if I had to live alone. Don't get me wrong, I love myself and I love my alone time, but I need to feel like I have some kind of family to come home to. And no, Nermal doesn't really count. Anyways... I know it'll be fine without Maya, I mean, we made it all last summer, all winter break and all spring break without each other, but the difference this time is that we both aren't leaving... it's just her.

It's weird, though... all the food everyone "donated" to us makes me feel safe. Maybe it's just because I'm like one of those grandmas. The ones that always make you sure you eat seconds, because in their minds, food = love. My friends wouldn't leave me their food (even their half-used mustards, random teabags and jars of olives) unless they really loved me, right? Right. Which means they'll be back, and my sadness isn't really as necessary as it might seem. So when they get back from all their adventures, I'll help them move home to Eugene. And then I'll share my food with them. And hopefully my wine, because God knows I'm not drinking any of the stuff the next time I try to haul boxes all over everyplace.

crashing into the dave

Lately, I've been hearing a lot of Dave Matthews Band. This is not out of my personal choice, necessarily, it is just the way things seem to be happening. The woman I babysit for all the time must own every Dave Matthews CD in existence. I thought he only had like 4 CDs: alas, they must number more like 27. I did not realize this until she moved and now all of her CDs are in one place. She doesn't have a ton of other music, so I've burned her several of my CDs, mainly so I can listen to my own stuff while I'm over there. The Shins, Sufjan Stevens, Death Cab, and Brett Dennen have all made many a round on her CD player. Thus I am kind of tired of all of them. So last week I caved and just listened to the Dave Matthews.

Have you ever noticed that people who like the Dave absolutely LOVE him? Like, obsessed. I have a hard time understanding this. He's good... kind of. Kind of just douchebag music though. Which doesn't mean it's bad. It just means that it's the kind of thing you should limit your exposure to (If I have never explained douchebag music to you before, here it is on urbandictionary.com - Maya and I defined it on there quite a while ago - http://www.urbandictionary.com/define.php?term=douchebag+music. Our definition is mostly a joke, but now we actually refer to this as a genre quite regularily).

Anyways, important news: Mangiamo hired me! I am a barista and a cashier, etc. at a coffeeshop! It is less than perfect, because it's a campus place... and all campus-run food places aren't that hot for... you know... that Seattle-circa-1993 feel that the good kind of coffee shops have. The kind of place I dream about working at. But it is a far cry from working at the Card Office, and so I'm happy.

I had my first shift yesterday at 6 AM. Fun times, especially because my neighbors woke me up at 4 AM, still partying (the Sunday night of finals week, no less). I enjoy my neighborhood because it is colorful. Except yesterday, when I wished the colorfulness would shut up and go to bed. Other than that little incident, (which really had nothing to do with work!) work went quite well. I felt very accomplished, intelligent and such when I left. I know how to make all the coffees now! I have not drank any of the ones I've made so far, so they could be terribly shitty and I just don't know. To be on the safe side, I should give all of my friends their coffees for free... hmm. I'm not sure that's something I'll be able to get away with. I'm not going to try that kind of thing until I really know the ropes.

Anyways: there's a CD player for the staff at Mangiamo. Nothing was playing on it and I asked one of the girls about it. She was like, "Yeah, that's for us. Do you want to listen to something?"

DUH! I want to listen to something. There are few situations, I think, that are not enhanced by the presence of music. Why would you NOT listen to music if you could?

Anyways, there was a CD already in the thing and it was, obviously, Dave Matthews. Is there no escape, I ask you. Anyways... still better than silence, so I turned it on. One thing's for sure though: time for me to burn some more work CDs. There's only so many times I can hear that man sing about crashing into him. That's not sexy, it's weird. The day I think that sex resembles crashing is the day I become celibate.

worky work work

So... uhh. So much for posting daily. I suppose I could get away with saying, at this point, that I will post every weekday. I guess it doesn't really matter. I'm posting a blog right now, and that's what's important.

I've interviewed for a couple jobs so far in Eugene, and I am really starting to hate the interview process. I've never had a "real" job before and that is probably part of the problem. I get really nervous at interviews, and I already don't come across that well when I first meet people, usually. Kinda stand-offish. The two job interviews I've had were for things that I was initially pretty excited about, and then after being interviewed I realized that I didn't even want the job that I was applying for. And then both places told me they weren't going to hire me anyways, which doesn't even bother me because I don't want the jobs anymore.

The first job I interviewed for, a couple months ago now, was to work at IntroDUCKtion (ow, ow, the horrid pun is injuring me bodily...) as a Student Orientation Staff member. It sounded fun originally because it seemed like the kind of job that I could make friends with the other kids and maybe feel a little more involved in U of O. Then they had me do a group interview, at which I realized I probably didn't want to work there anymore because all the other kids seemed like such fakes. The boss made a bunch of comments about dress code, what we could or couldn't display on our MySpaces or Facebooks, etc. They were looking for some perfect model student, you could tell. Not real people. I like Oregon well enough, but mostly it's just another university to me, and I'm not willing to become Susie School Spirit for a job. They called me back for a personal interview, and I went, but reluctantly... and I have to admit I didn't put much effort in for that one.

Then last week I had an interview to work at the Card Office, where they print student ID cards. Boring, yes, but it also sounded easy, which is, sadly, kind of appealing. When I went in for this one, the people interviewing me were a lot nicer and friendlier. So much so, in fact, that I was creeped out. They were all SO HAPPY. Which is great, I guess, but why? YOU WORK IN A BASEMENT SURROUNDED BY FLOURESCENT LIGHTING. Are they brainwashed, or is there something in the EMU water? I don't mean that they were nice, I mean, these ladies were laughing very hard and beaming brilliantly, almost in unison. I'm one of the happiest people I know, but I still don't think I could handle working with these people. Too much optimism is almost depressing sometimes. That's a horrible thing to say but it's what I really think. Anyways, I guess they could only give me 10 hours a week, and I basically told them that that wasn't enough, so when they sent me an email saying that the position was filled but I should reapply in fall I wasn't surprised.

I have another interview on Thursday at Mangiamo's, the bakery/coffee shop at the EMU. I'm really hoping I get this one, and that it doesn't disappoint. At this point I just want a job. But really, this is what I wanted all along. A nice summer job where I could be social and not have to think too hard, and where I could work for 30, 40 hours a week. I need that much time if I'm going to be getting minimum wage (bleh). Also, I would learn the skills of a barista. Kick ass. I've always wanted to know how to make a jillion specialty coffees. And baked goods surrounding me all day... I probably would have to start going to the rec center more (or, er, start going to the rec center, period) but how delicious. Mmmm. The best part about Mangiamo's, though, is its location. It's this nice, sunny, open room on the main floor of the EMU (the student union building here) called the Fishbowl. Plus, I could tell people I work in the cafeteria from Animal House, and that's just awesome. The scene where John Belushi stuffs his face and then sprays the food all over the prepsters ("That boy is a P-I-G, pig!") was filmed in the Fishbowl. It's classic. Not to mention I snooped past there the other day and they obviously don't have a rigid dress code or creepily happy workers. Thank God. Anyways, wish me luck, guys... I'm crossing my fingers.

two decades

As of Wednesday, I am officially in my twenties. How awesome is that? I'm in my twenties. It sounds so much better. "I'm a teenager." "I'm in my twenties." Ah, yes. A huge difference.

My wonderful old friend Justine sent me a postcard last week that reminded me that at my thirteenth birthday party we watched The Mummy. I was alarmed to read this, because I have absolutely no recollection of this occurrence whatsoever. If I do the math, I can figure out that I was in eighth grade... I think that was the year we were out at the trailer on Silver Lake for my birthday. Or did I do that for my birthday more than once? I can't even remember. That is a little bit scary.

I remember really clearly what's happened the past few birthdays, probably because they're more recent. All of those birthdays have been really good. I think that is partly because my friends know me better every year, so they do a better job of making it special every year.

I've always really liked birthdays, especially the birthdays of other people,they are one of my main excuses for getting in contact with people I haven't talked to in a while. You know, when it gets to that point where it's awkward to contact someone because you've been out of touch so long? Yeah, birthdays are a good excuse to break that ice. Also, birthdays are good excuses to shower people you do talk to all the time with love. It's one of those rare occasions that you can be completely over-the-top sentimental without feeling like a bit of an idiot afterwards. Or maybe that's just me.

Anyways, thank you to everyone who helped me celebrate this year. I'm lucky to have friends as thoughtful as all of you.



PS. I'm going to start trying to blog more. Every day if possible, because this will all be more interesting that way. So keep checking this guy. I'm also going to go out of my way to have more interesting things happen to me, so that my blog posts won't always be as dull as this one. :)

worth a thousand words

I absolutely love this drawing. It's by Adrian Tomine, and it's the cover of the Nov. 8, 2004 issue of The New Yorker. I've had it up on my wall ever since I first found it my senior year of high school, because it makes me feel better about absolutely everything.

Two subway cars pass each other, and a passenger from each looks up at the same time to see the other reading the same book. If the encounter had been just a little bit different, perhaps the two would have had a conversation. Or maybe they would have just pretended not to notice their commonalities, as humans often tend to do. Instead, they are separated with little chance of finding each other again, but they have one magnetic moment that may change how they think for the rest of the day or year.

A picture is worth a thousand words. Or, at least, this one is.

This picture makes me feel better about everything because it reminds me that no matter how unique your experiences are, or how alone you feel... there is someone (possibly closer to you than you think) who is feeling the same way or thinking the same thing, or even understanding something about you that you might think no one else gets. And sometimes, because of the circumstances, you'll never know this, but regardless, that person exists.

I have had many moments lately (and throughout my life, too) that make me feel that I don't understand anyone, or that no one understands me. This happens frequently, especially when I'm un-grounded from the truths that I usually believe in so firmly. But always, usually in the most unexpected context, someone reminds me. Everything is only one thing, the secret of the universe is that it is all connected, the differences between us are only superficial.

Sometimes it is a phone call I receive exactly as I think of the person who is calling me. Sometimes it is a conversation I have with the person in line near me at the supermarket, or the line of a song that comes up in shuffle mode on iTunes. Sometimes, it is one of those "subway glances" that occur at the most inopportune time but still is an expression of some kind of innate perfection that exists in the universe.

I'm sure that everyone has these moments. I think a lot of them are ignored, unfortunately. I wish that everyone would take time to acknowledge them when they do happen, because they are a good reminder of all of these things. We're not alone. We're all one. Alone. Allone. All one.

poetry

I forgot.

The woman that talked about inspiration also showed us this:


And I love it. There are seven more like it on YouTube and you should check those out, too. The animation is so well done and the poetry is wonderful, too.

I used to think I hated poetry, because all I had heard was stuffy-sounding rhyming formulaic cliché crap.

Then I started listening to good music and I realized that good song lyrics are actually just poetry set to music. Pretty elementary deduction there, but it took me a while to grasp it. And then I was more willing to read other poetry. And now I like it. In fact, I love it, and the good stuff is kind of like a drug, I want to read more of it. But at the same time that I want to read more of it, I want to go do crazy shit. Like write novels or paint murals or build life-size sculptures of dinosaurs.

I suppose this is what that woman meant when she said that inspired thought leads to more creation.


ps. I still don't like the majority of old, rhyming, formulaic poetry. I've figured out that I do like some of it, though, I just have to be in the right mood.

inspiration as a way of life

I have been meaning for quite a long time now to move beyond the world of MySpace blogging. Although it serves its purpose, it is still, well, MySpace. I like that my friends can read my blogs there easily, but what about my oh-so-chic friends who have moved beyond the MySpace world? MySpace is just not a very socially acceptable blogging locale, so now I have this instead.

Also, a guest speaker from the advertising department came to my journalism class today. I'm usually pretty snarky when it comes to advertising people and their creations, but this woman actually impressed me. She talked about the inspiration writers need to create, and how "the whole point of writing is idea collecting." And she talked about how all good writers keep track of their inspired thoughts.

She also talked about inspiration as a way of life. Like, instead of walking down the street being like, there's the bank, and that girl from my math class, and, oh look, a STOP sign with "Bush" written on it... you would still see all of those things, but instead of just registering them on some low level, they'd go right into the machine and you would start creating content from them. Whether this content is an ad, a painting, an article, a poem doesn't matter so much as the fact that you are collecting ideas.

At the very least, this blog will serve as a good idea collector for me. And, hopefully, the ideas I collect will be interesting to other people, too, and I will not become just another blogger of the useless variety.