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Saturday, April 06, 2002
I am thirsty, but not for something to drink.I need to try my hand at some poetry again soon. It's been a while.
Friday, April 05, 2002
Thursday, April 04, 2002
We have little throw rugs on the landings in our stairwell, and a monster is living under one of them. Every time I walk by it, there's a little bump in it, and I flatten it down, but it always comes back. Yup. Definitely a monster. I hope they don't declare him a fire hazard. Like the tapestry, the planter, my shoes ...
I wonder sometimes if we're all really children on the inside, and those of us who seem to be grownups are just the ones that are best at pretending that they know what they're doing and have the world figured out.
Wednesday, April 03, 2002
It's really rather unfortunate that housing decisions are in the hands of Res Life. I would have so much more confidence that things would work out okay if that particular office wasn't in charge of it all (since, you know, Res Life has a tendency to lie to people). But sadly, they are by definition in charge of housing. If only Dan were in our block. Then Res Life would be our bitch.Then again, maybe, just maybe, someone in our block has inherited Dan's power ...
Tuesday, April 02, 2002
Monday, April 01, 2002
And it's weird how I can read these poems and still hear people reading them: I can hear Kate Q's voice going over the lines of "The Pain of Disregard", remembering our latenight discussions over what the final title should be, there on the floor of Rebecca's room. I didn't buy Alison's chapbook, but if I had I wonder if reading the poems I would recall her poet's-lilt that annoyed us all so much, that made every line sound like the end of a question, that prompted us to raise our hands eagerly when in class she asked if one of us would like to read the poem or if she should. We were all so terribly conscious of it that we were careful not to imitate her, saying our lines firmly and surely so they wouldn't accidentally start floating in the upper reaches of our voices as hers did. But when I watched the video of our poetry reading afterwards, I realized that I was swaying back and forth as I spoke, though my words came out straight and smooth, not dying away in an arc. As I watched it with Kate (homeKate) I blushed and wished it would be over, glad that I hadn't decided to show the video to a larger audience. Sometimes we all get too caught up in our own music.
I really don't have much patience with people today. Which doesn't bode well for Modernity, since that class always requires as much patience as I can muster. Bleh.I really really just don't want to hear it, from anyone, right now. Gah.
Some days my voice is hoarse, and air gets stuck somewhere inside my throat as I try to warm up. Everything feels strained, sounds strained, and the more I think about it the worse it gets. Across the hall I hear an acquaintance's voice rising in a lovely vibratto, and I grab my books and music and leave, running up the stairs as if something's chasing me, as if her voice will never leave my head, quietly, beautifully mocking my own. I want, I want, I want to be good someday, but right now I'm a squeaky clarinet, unpleasant and unreliable, and good seems impossibly far away.
Sometimes I wonder-- what am I, to who, and why?I wonder too much. There are probably some things I'm best off not knowing.
Sunday, March 31, 2002
It's after dark, so I guess things are allowed to start bugging me again. That seems to be the way it works, anyway.I had a good day. I really did. I honestly can't imagine a better way of spending my day than walking barefoot up to the quarry after tai jitsu, listening to Cat Stevens on Maggie's discman and perching on a ledge and reading, followed by going to Jesse's chamber concert in the chapel, which was excellent. My feet felt good after their trek through mud and moss and gravel, and I got to spend time outside and listen to music and things. I made that my day and I enjoyed it.
But somehow it wasn't what I wanted it to be, and I have no idea what I want it to be or how to make it that. How to simultaneously belong and not belong, which seems to be what I want, though it doesn't make any sense and I can't find a way to reconcile it. At times like this I'm envious of people who are comfortable either in their celebrating or not celebrating, who care about Easter or don't care, who aren't balanced on this wall between the two. Because there's nothing particularly great or enlightening about being lost like this, and my ability to question isn't equivalent to the ability to reconcile, and maybe after all it is an experience that I'll be the better for, but I have trouble believing that from anyone who hasn't tried to do this themselves (and I don't know anyone who has), and maybe it's only a useful experience for the spectators who watch me do this crazy dance.
Whatever. I shouldn't let this poinless wallowing ruin a perfectly good day.
So. Easter.Easter puts me in a bizarre position this year. I don't know how I'm going to celebrate it, yet it seems wrong to leave the day unmarked. Longer ago than I can remember I rejected the Christian religious version of Easter, and a few years back I rejected the commercialized Easter-bunny-chocolate-candy version of the holiday as well. I haven't been forced to face that yet, since before this I've always been at home for Easter so I just did what my family always does for Easter. But now I'm here and alone and looking at this holiday and trying to decide on what terms to accept it.
The only time I can ever remember Easter ever meaning anything to me was the time years ago when my family went to a service-type thing on the steps of Boyden Hall. I don't remember it entirely clearly, but I remember standing there in the slightly chilly air, singing as the sun came up. For some reason that meant something, and it's perhaps the first time I can remember experiencing that sort of thing that I try to experience all the time now, that feeling of connecting with the air and the music and everything else. Maybe just faintly then, and not consciously. But it grew, and I need to figure out how to connect that feeling to some sort of holiday tradition here.
I'm more inclined to go to an Easter church service than a service at any other time, just because it's a bit more special than most. I can imagine myself going into a church and sitting unobtrusively in the back somewhere, taking part, and then quietly disappearing afterwards. That would be okay. But I imagine walking into the chapel for the service tomorrow, and seeing people I knew, and them seeing me, and having to talk to them and explain my presence there, or even if they somehow didn't see me, just seeing them and knowing that they were part of something that I cannot be a part of. I don't really want to be a part of it. But I don't want to be alone either. And I don't know if the way I think makes me alone in this by definition, or if I make myself that way.
Another part of it is being misunderstood. There are always the explanations. People see me in a church for the first time. Do they think I'm a Christian? What if they do? Does it bother me particularly? Sort of. I don't want to blend into the mix of the other people there and what they believe, because that feels like a lie of sorts. But even if someone asks, I'm never particularly good at explaining exactly what it is that I am. And if I try to explain, who knows if they'll listen. If someone asks you what religion you are, they generally aren't interested in a long and involved explanation. They want a one-word answer that they can understand. I hate falling back on the old atheist thing, because I know that it's inaccurate, but at least people don't question that. It's hard even to say Unitarian without getting confused looks and questions. And I'm not quite entirely comfortable with using the term to describe myself, either. So I don't want to be seen, don't want to be questioned, because I don't want to risk being misunderstood. I have all kinds of weird hangups about my relationship to Christianity that I can't quite explain even to myself.
So what am I going to do? I sort of feel like going for a walk to enjoy the nice weather, because it's more of a springtime thing for me than anything else. But that seems a bit too commonplace. Then again, if I'm trying to celebrate some appreciation for nature or whatever, that *is* commonplace, because I try to do that all the time anyway. I'm trying to celebrate a Christian holiday without the Christianity because I feel like a Christian by tradition if not by belief, but at the same time I want to make something for myself that's real and has relevance to me. I'm sick of celebrating other people's holidays and feeling left out because it's not what I believe at all, but I don't know how to celebrate my own way or really make this day mine. I'm lost somewhere between tradition and improvisation, between wanting company and wanting to be alone, between this religion and that. It's a bit dizzying.
I don't know if I explained that well at all, but there it is.
What a wonderful day. It was so warm, and lacrosse was so fun. The drummers had a cadence. As I was walking down the hill to meet before the game, I heard them practicing outside the hockey rink and it was the most wonderful sound in the world. I ran all the way down the hill laughing because it made me so happy. We marched over to the lacrosse field to the new cadence. I missed marching. For some reason that's where I'm in my element, moving to the beat, feeling rhythms all around me. The game was awesome, and I never heard so many fans and players compliment the band before in my life.After that I went to Leah's seder dinner. It was very informal, so I didn't feel intimidated, and it was really neat to take part in the traditions of another religion, reciting things, eating odd foods. I found the hidden matzo and thus had first choice of the plastic water guns. Count on Leah to give out weapons for prizes. After a delicious dinner and some interesting ritual we watched the Three Musketeers and then just chatted for long periods of time. It was really great.
I have used the phrase "the best thing in the world" a disturbing amount of times today. I have hugged a disturbing amount of people today. I haven't let people get on my nerves no matter how annoying I generally consider them to be. I have danced and leaped in bizarre fashions. See what a good spring day can do to me when I'm not overwhelmed with work?
