Thoughts on the College Life

It's a lot of little ideas under one heading, which means it totally counts as at least three.  Plus, I'm a little preoccupied - leaving the country tomorrow, and all.  But I wanted one last post before I left American soil, to really tie the blog together.

I played foosball before.  I won't be able to do that again until January, and that's killing me.  I'm sitting on my friend's dorm floor, surrounded by my luggage and distracted by my friends.  I'm still thinking about starting a travel blog, but I still feel like people might think I'm a jerk for doing so.  Or maybe someone will actually care. Or maybe I'll just post everything on Tumblr and try to remember to make more funny pictures to share.

I finally set up my Internet here on campus, but that's pointless, seeing as I'm going to the Netherlands.  And the castle got struck by lightening recently.  So Internet might not exist there, just as I feared.  No Skype, no Twitter, no Facebook.  And my phone won't work and I can't text a lot on my crappy European phone.  Pretty much, I'll be so out of touch, it's insane.

But I'll try to keep writing and remembering, trying to find things to write about and talk about and send letters home about.  And I'll just keep dreaming about foosball.

Thoughts on Time, Homesickness, & 100 Posts!

I know, I know; time is relative.  But it feels like it's been quietly helping me along recently, giving me a few extra minutes where I need them and speeding along the process when I can't stand the boredom anymore.  Work (knock on wood) seems to fly nowadays, whereas I would have died of exhaustion, frustration, and sleep deprivation at the beginning of the summer.  Maybe it's because I'm down to the one, slightly less demanding job.  Maybe it's because I'm more confident now at the pool.  Maybe it's because I read a lot.  Whatever the reason, thanks for the boost, time.

Time can slow down, too, and I'm equally as thankful for that.  The minutes can take their sweet time passing into the wee hours and into a new day.  I don't mind the quiet of the night, the cool breeze.  I don't mind sitting down in the middle of the day to commit ideas to paper, realizing writing two and half pages took hardly any time at all.  I like looking my goals in the face and saying, "That looks easy."

Time.  It's a beautiful thing.

Thoughts on Hurricane Irene, Timothy, & the East End

A tree was uprooted on our block.  We were thankful to find that as the largest catastrophe to greet us on Cambridge Drive when we arrived home from mandatory evacuation on Sunday afternoon.

Sure, there were branches to clean up around the house and a den to reassemble, but we didn't flood, which is quite a miracle, and we didn't have any trees in our house, which was beautiful.  Also, our cats don't hate us all that much for stuffing them in the traveling cage and hauling ass to Granny's in the city.  Which can only be an act of God.

Thoughts on Fantasy, Cereal, & Why Can't I Ever Think of a Third?

The genre; not the daydreams.

I was obsessed with the fantasy genre for the majority of my childhood.  Aside from the usual dalliances into young adult drama and Are You There, God?  It's Me, Margaret to get all the "answers" to my burning questions, I devoted myself entirely to talking animals and people with wings and creatures that spoke made-up languages.  Ironically, I've never been able to finish a book in the Lord of the Rings trilogy - I only read The Hobbit in sixth grade, for fun.  I remember doing some kind of kickass book jacket for it.  I drew a dragon.

Thoughts on Mumford & Sons, Mousse, & Going Back to School

Have you ever fallen, instantly, in love?  With music?  You only know a song or two, but you're stared in the face with a half-remember melody and the CD cover, and you say, "What the hell?" and but the whole damn album, anyway.  Sometimes, you only recognize a title, a single line, but that's all it takes.  It isn't forced; you just know.  You want to listen to the song you only vaguely remember, but you start from the beginning, to be fair - no waiting, no whining, without a fight.  Wo cares about the money?  It's natural.

By day two, you know every line.  You have your favorites.  And that album is all you need.

Thoughts on Forgetting, Self-Consciousness, & Europe

It's incredible how insanely easy it is just to...forget.

It's bad enough that you can lose the most important parts of your life in your prime.  But what happened to all those childhood memories, the ones that are fuzzy and stilted, saved only in photographs and home movies?  What about the things you only hear family members talk about?  How is it that you lived through those moments, too, but they really made no true impact on you?  Some things stand out, but the specifics are largely gone.

And what will happen when I get older?  What happens when I get busy, get overwhelmed, stop writing things down and taking pictures and committing them to memory?

I guess I just need to get on my game now.  And never let that happen.  Not again.

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An explanation, an apology, & a promise I hope to keep

So.  H-h-hey, there.  How are things?

Thoughts on Weight Watchers, Softball, & Picture Posts

Dude.  Weight Watchers.  What gives?

I gave you a try about a year ago and, yeah, you worked for me.  And it was awesome.  I feel like I really learned something in those three months; I really got the drive to eat better, to exercise, to see what I could do about my weight and living the way I wanted to.

But, now, I hate you.

You worked for me.  But you're driving my mother crazy.  And it's killing me.

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Thoughts on the American Red Cross, New Music, & Dolly Parton

I will, in turns, be eternally grateful to/forever hate the ARC.  It's thanks to them I've had something to do during my summer vacations since I was about nine or ten.  They're the reason I'm currently employed (and have been for the last five summers).  It's because of the Red Cross that, when I remember I am a certified lifeguard and trained in the ways of CPR, AED, First Aid, and swim instructing, I feel like a total BAMF.

But ten-year-old me wasn't thinking that far ahead.  Ten-year-old me liked the pool and all, but getting up early for classes was not conducive to my childhood.  If not for swim lessons, I probably wouldn't have really had any friends as a kid - none that I saw outside of school, anyway.  But, come on...ten AM is early for a kid, when you factor in the carpools, the tennis lessons in the morning heat, the changing for swimming, the spending the day usually at a friend's house because both of my parents worked.  And being an instructor's aid when I was 14 royally sucked.

Without the Red Cross, I wouldn't get to see my kids every year, the closest I'll probably ever come to actually being a teacher.  I plan on having my own kids, someday, and it's nice to have the time to practice - to play, to bond, to instruct.  To discipline, unfortunately.  I want to be the cool mom, the one everyone loves and trusts, because I'll probably be the only one who thought it was important to keep up with my CPR certification.

So, a million and one thanks to the American Red Cross.  But, also...I hate you.

Thoughts on Laziness, Locks, & Vacation

I'm just tired.  It's been a long week.  I went on vacation.  I did too much.  I slept too little.

I haven't done anything since I got home Friday night.

I'll stop making excuses eventually.

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Thoughts on Books, Drama, & Long Distance Friendships

I have too many book.  Not that I think you can ever have too many books.  I just have too many for the space I currently occupy, so my room is getting a little cluttered.  And it always seems, no matter how many books I finish and find room for or must tie up and relegate to the garage, I always end up buying more to fill the shrinking empty spaces.  I still like the whole atmosphere of the library, but there's just something about owning a book, being able to write in it and call it your own.  Even if it's terrible.

But it's okay.  I plan on having a library of my own, in my future home, a place to keep all my books and have a desk with my knick-knacks and computer, where I'll read and write and go on Facebook.  Even if it's just a closet - as long as I have shelf space.  I'll be content.

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Thoughts on Taco Bell, Summer Storms, & the Boardwalk

Taco Bell is one helluva big deal in these parts.  I really don't know why it took off as a hangout, but it's really taken its place as a symbol of the community.  If you don't go at least once a week, you're probably a social outcast.  And don't even get me started on the time it shut down for a few months...then reopened, new and improved, as a Taco Bell/Pizza Hut EPIC PLACE OF EPIC EATING EPICNESS.

In third grade, we had to write about our favorite places in the school district.  Even though Taco Bell is technically a town over, I wrote about it.  That's how influential it's been in my life.

Today, on of my best friends, Zach, and I bought the Party Pack (12 tacos, bitches!) and split a large Mountain Dew Baja Blast while sitting on the dock at Venetian Park.  It was beautiful; perfection.  Even if it was 6541984 degrees outside.  It was okay - we had the serenity of the bay and the quiet of the dock and tacos, and that was all we needed.

And then I took the last two tacos to work with me for dinner ♥

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Thoughts on Nature vs. Nurture, Originality, & Getting Out

Would you be the same person you are today if you didn't grow up with the people you did, in the home you did, attending the schools you did?  What if you didn't have a mom or a dad?  What if you were raised by relatives?  What if you lived in your car and struggled for food?  What if you were just lucky to be alive?

Does personality come from the wiring in your brain or the things you experience?  We learn almost everything from our parents and the people we see around us, but do you really learn things like compassion, humor, joy, sorrow?  Or do they come with the territory?  Does happiness spring up in a happy home with a white picket fence, or to combat extreme terror and anguish?

Will we ever know?  Not unless we learn to be reborn and live our lives all over again.

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Thoughts on Writing, Forming Bonds, & the Apocalypse

Today at work, I had this unnatural urge to just put pen to paper and write.  It was the perfect setting - a chilly pool deck, empty save for one woman reading what I think was The Help, and me, with my writing tablet and my favorite pen from the high school newspaper awards last year.  I had some characters in my head, a few ideas, some plots.  The problem was, most of them are for larger projects I either have work done on or I have yet to begin, and none of them were going to become short stories I could knock out in the four hours I had left in my shift.  Nothing seemed right.

I hate that.  I love that drive to write, but I hate how it never seems to match up with the right ideas, the right words, the right remembering.  I would have continued a story I've already started, if I could remember specific details and where I'd left off.  But I had nothing - just myself, a pen and paper, and creativity taking me nowhere.

Of course, with one hour left in my shift at the pool, I remembered a brilliant idea I'd had and meant to work on, but I was already invested in my book and I was hoping to leave a little early since no one was swimming, and it didn't seem worth it.

That's what nighttime is for though, right?

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Thoughts to Make Up For Not Posting Last Night

I suck.  I know.  I'm working on it.

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Prom

There's been a lot of things in the past week that have reminded me of Prom 2010.  Walking into the same basements where we planned, the friend's house we went to afterward to change for After Prom.  I wanted to upload a picture of all of us in our finery, but then I realized I don't have any on my computer.  Instead, the photo above is from the beach on Fire Island where we spent the day after.  It wasn't conventional - no huge parties, no drinking - just staying up late, watching movies, eating, laughing, talking, walking on the beach in the moonlight.  Then ultimate frisbee on the beach the day after, some swimming, some tanning.  My date taught me how to play chess that day.

Yeah.  I think about it a lot.

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Thoughts on Beautiful Days, Gasoline, & Driving (Without a Destination)

The sky is that shade of blue that only shows up on days like these.  It might not really be any bluer, but it looks perfect against pure white clouds that alternate between puffy and wispy.  But everything looks better through aviator shades.

A plane might make its way, lazily, across the sky.  There might be seagulls crying, cardinals singing.  The tree trunks are dark in shadow, the leaves green and shot through with bright rays of sunshine.  If the sun were a child's drawing, it would be wearing sunglasses.  And grinning.

People are suddenly everywhere - jogging, walking, talking, biking, taking dogs for long walks, pushing infants in strollers.  They've been stuck in hibernation, but no one can miss a beautiful day.  Errands are excuses to get out in the sun; sitting in the backyard is a higher priority than eating, even breathing.  The sun is hot, but the breeze cuts the warmth, clearing away humidity and leaving in its place the peaceful flutter of anxious new leaves and the sound of life, renewed, and so very alive.

What a beautiful day, you think.  And it sounds cliché, but don't listen to that writing professor.  Clichés just have a bad reputation.  Sometimes, there's just no better way to say it.  And what a beautiful day this is.

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Thoughts on Afternoon Applebee's, Quotes, & Babies

Though any 'Bee's is a hoppin' place around dinnertime and Happy Hour, there's something more magical about a late lunch or an early dinner at the Neighborhood.  There's no line, no putting your name on a list, no fighting for a seat in the lobby while your stomach growls for half-prince appetizers.  The waiters and waitresses are all standing around the hostess, who grins and leads you, immediately, to one of the booths near the window.  Ah, the good life.  You get drinks, appetizer, meal, desserts, in rapid succession.  Maybe the waitstaff isn't as peppy and, maybe, the atmosphere loses a little something without a rowdy crowd of sports fans seated around the bar.  But seeing the place so quiet is both unsettling and wonderful.  Every person, place, and thing has an undercurrent they don't show the world; every side has two stories.  And the story of Applebee's in the late afternoon includes eavesdropping, laughing, and eating as much as you can in as little time as it takes to do so.

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Thoughts on Writing Challenges, Taboo, & One-Liners

I want to observe things for the Memoir Project every day; write about love every day; write a poem a day; find something to keep my inspired every day.

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It really shouldn't be that hard to guess "rainbow" from clues alluding to "Somewhere Over the Rainbow" and the fact that it's a weather phenomenon that appears after a big storm.

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Did this post bother you yet?

Thoughts on History, Movies, & Photography

I don't belong here.  Have I mentioned that here before?  Maybe; I can't remember.  I might just be getting myself all mixed up with every other time I've ever mentioned the fact that I'm all wrong for this decade.  Well, all wrong, except for an addiction to the Internet.  And a growing appreciation for hip-hop.  And a great sadness when I think that, if I were twenty or thirty years older today, I might not have watched Supernatural from the beginning.  And think of all the hot guys I wouldn't know about!

Then again...think about all the hot guys I've missed out on.

Anyway, history was always one of my favorite classes in school, all through my years from elementary to high school.  Drawing from my vague knowledge of certain time periods in American history and what the movies have told me, I've narrowed my possible destined locations to two decades: the 1940s and the 1980s.

I know war is hell - not from firsthand experience.  It's just something you know is wrong and we should probably be trying to avoid at all costs.  But the World War II era is just so intriguing.  I don't really know what it's like to go without.  I don't know what it's like to have a sweetheart overseas, someone to write to and pray for.  I want to dance at the officer's club to swing music and join the armed forces as a nurse, or work in a factory.  Or play baseball, like in A League of Their Own.  As terrifying as it must have been to live through that, it also seems incredibly exciting to have been alive in such a time of change and upheaval.

But I don't know if it's something about the romance of that period drawing me to the '40s, or the whole decade.  Whereas, with the '80s, I'm sure I would fit right in.  The bold colors, the music, the movies, the celebrities, the TV, the fashion - I have died and gone to shoulder pad heaven just thinking about it.  Who knows?  In another time, I might be the East Coast's answer to Cameron Crowe.  I could have run off to Hollywood at the height of the yuppies and made a name for myself in a John Hughes film.  I might have been in Top Gun (or, at least, swaying with my well-coiffed boyfriend to "Take My Breath Away").

...I COULD HAVE MARRIED EMILIO ESTEVEZ.

MY LIFE SUCKS.

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Announcements! Call for Submissions! Exclamation Points!

The Memoir Project is very heavily text-based, hm?  Well, that really was the focus, originally - the written word.  But some things are indescribable; a picture is worth a thousand words.  So we here at "Big Myth We Live" are very happy to announce the integration of multimedia elements into the blog!  The aim is still for aspiring authors and dabbling writers to try to write about the details that make them who they are.  But, if you'd like, you can also collect photographs, make a video, find a clip of your favorite song, anything that will help sharpen the memories.  Of course, we'd appreciate a few words of introduction and/or description, so you can't skimp on your writing now!  But we're very excited to see what we (and you!) can come up with to present our lives as faithfully as possible.

This leads to my next point - you!  We'd love to line up a few guest posts, and we welcome any and all readers, skimmers, or first-timers to create a post about their three chosen details of the day to share here at Big Myth for the Memoir Project!  It can be three videos, a picture and two long written pieces, a song and a slideshow, or the typical three short blurbs - whatever you're drawn towards.  But we can't do it without you, so contact either me, katiemickgee, or Dominic Knight today and start dreaming :]