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geminigirl(Ten points to anyone who knows what movie the title of this post comes from. I actually have it on right now. It's high up on my list of movies I love, movies that make me cry. I want to stay up and watch, but if I do, I'll have a terrible day tomorrow.)
Today I've been thinking a lot about college. There's a part of me that would like, just for a little while to recapture that combination of responsibility and freedom. Maybe that's why I'm okay with going to California. Maybe that's what I'm looking for by going. Maybe it's just a celebration of sorts...a tenth anniversary if you will. But still, if I could know what I know now, and be in the place I was then....
Ten years ago (almost exactly ten years ago in fact) I left for college. I spent a couple of days in the woods on a leadership retreat before classes started-white water rafting, high ropes, horseback riding...the whole deal. Camping and everything. Ended up in the mud, too. But ten years ago...I always hated, and still do those "where do you see yourself in five years, ten years" questions. For goodness sakes, ten years ago I'd have had no clue I'd be here, now. I had no idea I'd have gone to grad school once and was thinking about going back. Oddly enough, I am in a profession vaguely related to what I thought I wanted to do back then.
If you had asked me ten years ago if I thought I'd be dating girls now, I'd have freaked out. I have this very distinct memory of my guidance counselor in high school (who I swore was a dyke,[1] until she got married my junior year, and pregnant my senior year.) So this memory, right? I'm sitting in her office, being my usual indecisive self about where I might want to go to college, and she pulls out some college guide I'd never heard of before, which is styled a bit differently from the books (remember how we did things before the internet) that I'd been using to do my research, and points out among the features of this book, that it includes the climate for gay and lesbian students. I freaked. Not in her office, but later on, with my friend Kristy. [2] I don't know why this particular thing made such an impression on me, either, this very short conversation with my guidance counselor, so many years ago. But it did. It still upsets me, too...I didn't realize it would. Funny how things get you.
Still...ten years. I don't know where I'll be ten years from now. I'll be nearly 40. That's all I know. I know there are things I want, but they may not happen between now and then. Or they might. Or I might find, elsewhere on this journey of selfdiscovery things I didn't know.
Ten years ago, was when I met Scott, who I'm embarking on a strange journey with, shortly. I met him because I dated his roommate. I haven't actually talked to Dan in years, and yet Scott has been a close confidant for a long time, even though we haven't lived anywhere near each other since 1997. And yet, we were inseparable for a while. My mother used to call his place looking for me sometimes. I miss our dinner and movie nights, even if I had to watch horrible movies like Vision Quest. Then again, we watched some movies obsessively, like The Adventures of Priscilla, Queen of the Desert (hence the arm twisting line "Oh come on, it would be so Priscilla," and chick flicks like Boys on the Side. We had vastly different taste in porn, but we did rent our share of porn flicks for dinner and a movie night...over soup, or honeychicken, or lime-tequilla chicken, or lasagna, or whatever we felt like making, we'd watch some movie, often one we'd seen a hundred times before. Scott lived in a single our sophomore year, and it should have had a revolving door for the manparade. There was also the corruption of my sophomore year roommate...she'd never seen a porn movie, never had a drink, and so on and so on. She wasn't the same person when she moved out as when she moved in. Somewhere in there, it became a running joke that he'd call me everytime he got laid. My phone would ring at all hours, literally. But it was college, it mattered a lot less. (I still get an occasional post-sex phone call or e-mail, but its not a regular thing. Long distance bill would be through the roof if we still did that.) I also get to groan and grumble as he gets older and the boys stay the same age.
But why the nostalgia? What am I actually missing? I have a job I enjoy (most of the time,) good friends, wonderful lovers, two adorable cats. I'm not actually chasing anything from then. Maybe I'm just getting to a place where I can appreciate the experiences I had, and see new or important things about them
I'm glad for where I've been. It's made me into who I am now. Sometimes I want to revisit that place. Sometimes I'm glad I escaped. It's interesting to walk through campus now and see how things have changed. Still, I celebrate where I came from, and look towards the future, where bright things will happen.
[1]I don't use that word very often...I have very specific images/connotations in my head when I do, and this woman screamed "dyke" to me. It's not a bad word to me, but it does describe something very specific. Apologies if it offends. But then, this is my journal, and I can use that language when it fits the situation.
[2]Kristy was gorgeous. Blonde, curvy, the woman who made me fall in love with underpants peeking over the tops of pants. Right. I had this HUGE crush on her at the time, but it was very very secret. I wouldn't even admit it to her. Course I refused to admit it to myself either, and remember consciously surpressing every thought I had about her in that manner...remember telling myself it was bad and I shouldn't think like that. I did actually admit it to her a few years later, after a rather explicit dream about her, but that's sort of insignificant. There's a good story about Kristy and a porn movie if you're interested though.
Today I've been thinking a lot about college. There's a part of me that would like, just for a little while to recapture that combination of responsibility and freedom. Maybe that's why I'm okay with going to California. Maybe that's what I'm looking for by going. Maybe it's just a celebration of sorts...a tenth anniversary if you will. But still, if I could know what I know now, and be in the place I was then....
Ten years ago (almost exactly ten years ago in fact) I left for college. I spent a couple of days in the woods on a leadership retreat before classes started-white water rafting, high ropes, horseback riding...the whole deal. Camping and everything. Ended up in the mud, too. But ten years ago...I always hated, and still do those "where do you see yourself in five years, ten years" questions. For goodness sakes, ten years ago I'd have had no clue I'd be here, now. I had no idea I'd have gone to grad school once and was thinking about going back. Oddly enough, I am in a profession vaguely related to what I thought I wanted to do back then.
If you had asked me ten years ago if I thought I'd be dating girls now, I'd have freaked out. I have this very distinct memory of my guidance counselor in high school (who I swore was a dyke,[1] until she got married my junior year, and pregnant my senior year.) So this memory, right? I'm sitting in her office, being my usual indecisive self about where I might want to go to college, and she pulls out some college guide I'd never heard of before, which is styled a bit differently from the books (remember how we did things before the internet) that I'd been using to do my research, and points out among the features of this book, that it includes the climate for gay and lesbian students. I freaked. Not in her office, but later on, with my friend Kristy. [2] I don't know why this particular thing made such an impression on me, either, this very short conversation with my guidance counselor, so many years ago. But it did. It still upsets me, too...I didn't realize it would. Funny how things get you.
Still...ten years. I don't know where I'll be ten years from now. I'll be nearly 40. That's all I know. I know there are things I want, but they may not happen between now and then. Or they might. Or I might find, elsewhere on this journey of selfdiscovery things I didn't know.
Ten years ago, was when I met Scott, who I'm embarking on a strange journey with, shortly. I met him because I dated his roommate. I haven't actually talked to Dan in years, and yet Scott has been a close confidant for a long time, even though we haven't lived anywhere near each other since 1997. And yet, we were inseparable for a while. My mother used to call his place looking for me sometimes. I miss our dinner and movie nights, even if I had to watch horrible movies like Vision Quest. Then again, we watched some movies obsessively, like The Adventures of Priscilla, Queen of the Desert (hence the arm twisting line "Oh come on, it would be so Priscilla," and chick flicks like Boys on the Side. We had vastly different taste in porn, but we did rent our share of porn flicks for dinner and a movie night...over soup, or honeychicken, or lime-tequilla chicken, or lasagna, or whatever we felt like making, we'd watch some movie, often one we'd seen a hundred times before. Scott lived in a single our sophomore year, and it should have had a revolving door for the manparade. There was also the corruption of my sophomore year roommate...she'd never seen a porn movie, never had a drink, and so on and so on. She wasn't the same person when she moved out as when she moved in. Somewhere in there, it became a running joke that he'd call me everytime he got laid. My phone would ring at all hours, literally. But it was college, it mattered a lot less. (I still get an occasional post-sex phone call or e-mail, but its not a regular thing. Long distance bill would be through the roof if we still did that.) I also get to groan and grumble as he gets older and the boys stay the same age.
But why the nostalgia? What am I actually missing? I have a job I enjoy (most of the time,) good friends, wonderful lovers, two adorable cats. I'm not actually chasing anything from then. Maybe I'm just getting to a place where I can appreciate the experiences I had, and see new or important things about them
I'm glad for where I've been. It's made me into who I am now. Sometimes I want to revisit that place. Sometimes I'm glad I escaped. It's interesting to walk through campus now and see how things have changed. Still, I celebrate where I came from, and look towards the future, where bright things will happen.
[1]I don't use that word very often...I have very specific images/connotations in my head when I do, and this woman screamed "dyke" to me. It's not a bad word to me, but it does describe something very specific. Apologies if it offends. But then, this is my journal, and I can use that language when it fits the situation.
[2]Kristy was gorgeous. Blonde, curvy, the woman who made me fall in love with underpants peeking over the tops of pants. Right. I had this HUGE crush on her at the time, but it was very very secret. I wouldn't even admit it to her. Course I refused to admit it to myself either, and remember consciously surpressing every thought I had about her in that manner...remember telling myself it was bad and I shouldn't think like that. I did actually admit it to her a few years later, after a rather explicit dream about her, but that's sort of insignificant. There's a good story about Kristy and a porn movie if you're interested though.
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no subject
Date: 2003-08-11 03:11 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-08-11 03:28 pm (UTC)But yes. It's The Big Chill. On my list of "make me cry" movies and such. I do love it.
Do you really want the story about me, Christy, her boyfriend and the porn flick?
no subject
Date: 2003-08-13 07:39 am (UTC)