My birthday wish

I sometimes wish I was incapable of loving, as horrible as that sounds. Because if I could never love, then I would never have to un-love. Unloving is something I find completely impossible and so much worse than never loving at all. So all of those people that said it was better to have loved and lost than to never have loved at all were a bunch of cockeyed liars. I wish, for my birthday, to have an undo button for love.

FREEDOM

I quit my job today, which means I am also looking for a new place to live. I am applying for a new job (wish me luck!). Still a full-time student, still studying for the GRE, still applying for a Fulbright, still gonna enroll in Portuguese classes. Yes, folks, yes: I am insane. That is all. 

YAY!!! 

Pretty close...

Today was a day that, in my frame of mind, I sincerely deem near perfect. 

It began very leisurely, rising at 9, cooking breakfast (burned my fake bacon, but no major loss), and skipped out of home at 10. The weather being so nice and mild, inspired me to walk to school. 

I headed down Beacon, taking in the sights and sounds (dodging runners, splashing in puddles, walking suspended in memories and light). Instead of taking the usual route into Simmons, I headed down Carlton street, and saw a beautiful Episcopalian church, and a young family, with two tiny babes. 

Then I crossed over the D Line at Longwood, and entered the Riverway--that lovely snowy park. Over the bridge, I saw two rather large fish grazing, and felt so light. Just then, I turned around, and was completely captivated by the grace of two swimming swans. It was so beautiful to see those four creatures interacting in that space of water. 

I thought about mating. In the biological sense. About how some creatures are capable of mating for life. I am constantly plagued by questions about our human capabilities of monogamy. It seems we are destined to fail.

I went along to the gym, and swam for an hour. There was an Asian man in the lane next to me doing a rather poor job of it, and I decided that I would secretly race him. I won every time. I especially enjoyed feeling the strain in my muscles when I really swam full force. It is quite easy to forget what the body is capable of doing. 

I then saw Ryan on my way to the library with Marti, but was forced to leave them. I went to my locker to unload, and passed by the Tech Lab. I was pleasantly surprised to see the back of Matt's bald head, freshly shaven. I went in, pretended to check my email, and finally said hello. It was more like, "Matt?" and he's like "Oh, hey."

We proceeded to have a rather small conversation. He talked of internship applications, and I told him that my eating hours are all out of whack by virtue of the fact that I lived in Europe last year. He told me about his time in St. Peterburg, and I was off. It seems that our interactions are like bursts. It is only a matter of time, I think, before we start having more in-depth meetings. At least he seems inclined. 

I then had lunch, and called Marilyn, as it is her birthday. We got off to a choppy start (it's been ages since we last talked) but then things started to go more fluidly. I didn't know that she's in such an economic bind. I felt very sorry for all the things she told me. But then we talked about better times, and we shared our special take on life that is always so humorous. I told her about my progress with Dad, and all the things I had learned about Grandma. She told me about her brother leaving for college. 

Then Matt appeared very close to me, and I was talking about beef hearts with Marilyn. I was a bit embarrassed so I ran off, without saying a word. It was foolish. 

 Back to the library to pretend to study for a while. Sat with 3 other library students. Thought about the futility of this Master's degree, and how asinine it is. Was rather surprised to hear similar thought from the other students. Felt less alone.

I ventured to the ICA to see High Places. On the T, there were two guys talking about the music industry. I smiled at them, when a crowd of boisterous girls came onto the train. God, I hope I was never like them.

The guys smiled at me back. I seemed to be implicated in their conversation somehow. As if, from that moment forward, they were going to say things in order to try and impress me. The truth is that I didn't listen much, as I had an earful of Fleet Foxes (my newest musical obsession).

After much meandering around Southie, I finally made it to the ICA. I was in a room filled with people that fit my standards of attractiveness (all very weird, with a touch of sadness). It was difficult to sit still. There was an Asian girl that I was particularly drawn to, because she was wearing a hideous outfit. I happen to be a big fan of hideous outfits, because they show character, and balls (take that, fashion machine!). 

Finally the music began. Watching Soft Circles, that one-man band, construct layers and textures of sound was fascinating. I thought it was especially well done considering that High Places did just the opposite. Their pieces began as full melodic songs, and slowly they disassembled before our eyes. 

I especially enjoyed the girls voice. It had a touch of nostalgia in it, for things lost and old. The accompanying images were also striking. My favorites were a shot of heirloom tomatoes at a farmer's market, and a man observing the world whizz by from his seat in the train, feet up, blue socks on chair. The snow outside looking like a moving-picture show. 

I remembered the joy to be had from live music. 

I hope more days are like this one. Wrapped in memories of you (the good kind). 

Updates

In case anyone out there is reading this defunct record of my sad little life, there have been some changes. For one, I am officially done with my first semester of Library school (that much closer to a lifetime of books...) Then there is the fact that I am seeing a guy. This is a pretty big deal in my world, since it so seldomly happens. The truth about this guy is that we aren't really seeing each other in the traditional sense. I guess you can say that we just take advantage of each other to feel a little less lonely, though most of the time we are pretty unsuccessful. It is fun though, because he challenges me to be myself, which is something I'm usually not. 

I make no sense, I know. I think sometimes its better not to think about it. But I get the feeling that perhaps who I am is a base, disgusting, creature that is not worth the air she breathes (which would explain why I am constantly trying to justify my existence based on the slight chance that people might actually want me around, because to some degree I make them happy). Really, I'm not depressed. This is me in my rawest form. 

I am truly pleased with myself for going out of my way to invade people's lives. I know that perhaps my methods are unorthodox and incomprehensible, but I also know that I make people feel alive, that I too, am a threat. Living dangerously close to something that could be the end of the world as my subjects have known it: this is what I do for people. It makes me happy that I can offer this kind of escapism, even if most people cannot appreciate it for what it is worth. And yes, I do recognize that I am too much. 

My level of intensity is frightening even for me. I did not ask to be this way. I am still struggling with this part of me that on the exterior looks like a magnificent gift that I should be thankful for, but that is really nothing more than an incredibly heavy burden. 

So, that's what's new...which isn't new at all, really. 

For reasons beyond my comprehension, I have this odd tingling sensation, like I have two people on either side of me kissing the nape of my neck. What baffles me most is the fact that I cannot distinguish whether these "phantom kisses" arise out of a strong desire to be kissed, or some kind of neurological disorder (the same one perhaps that makes intense waves of color suddenly emmanate out of random objects?). This wouldn't be the first time I experience these sensations either. I should probably just enjoy the feeling instead of worrying about it.

Discouraging, isn't it?

It seems I only come on this things when things aren't going particularly well. I have some updates fro you:

I am now a vegetarian. It is pretty sweet. I am really enjoying all of the research involved in order to make sure that I am getting an adequate nutrition. Also, going to health food stores in Madrid is really interesting, though, I must confess that finding certain things has proven a little more difficult than expected, like chia seeds, for example.

I have also been wracking my brains trying to decide what the heck it is I am going to do with the rest of my life. As if I could have any idea given my current menatl stupor and greeness.

Reading a lot of blogs on librarianship and the truth is that librarians seem to be really pissed off all the time, and I am wondering if that is the kind of thing that I want for myself.

I am also wondering how the hell I am going to pay for library school and make ends meet in Boston. I hope that somehow, a giant pile of money falls out of the sky and into my lap.

I am also conteplating my imminent departure from Madrid and it is making me incredibly sad because I huge part of me doesn't want to go. sigh.

I am worried about my parents these days as they seem to be aging at an alarming rate and I think they are going to need me a lot sooner that I had expected.

I am also pretty lonely and in need of companionship.

Balls.

WTF am I doing?

So this saturday was a genuine shit show. The evening began by meeting up with Gabriel and Sonja at La Casa Encendida to see the Warhol exhibit, which I did not get to see because of it was filled to the brim and I'm not one to view art like an automaton. We proceeded to eat some patatas bravas and have some beers at El Barrio. To be continued.