writing conference

I have decided to go to the URI Summer Writing Conference. Last year I went as a volunteer, which was cool but I didn't get to go to the workshops or anything. This year I decided to just spend the entry fee and do all that stuff. There are workshops on fiction, poetry, and nonfiction - I'm doing advanced fiction - panel discussions, readings, and other writerly stuff, run by the English professors and a lot of visiting writers. You should go too! The conference costs $55, and the pre-conference session (which includes more workshops) costs $100. I decided to do both, but the pre-conference session is optional. yay.

don't know

Goal: Go on school England trip in 2009?
Need: At least $5000, probably more.

Uhh, shit. I don't see how. I have at least half of that now but it would empty out all my savings, checking account, everything... And there will probably be no parental assistance because 1) they don't actually have any money, 2) paradoxically, since I have almost a full scholarship they HATE paying for anything extra.

And, that's the summer before senior year, the year I'm planning to rent a house with my best friends, and THAT will cost a lot so I'll need to save for that. So spending all my money on England would not be wise... In addition to having to take the whole month of July off of work to go...

I'm not so good at working for things, honestly. It's lame but it's the truth. I don't have very much work ethic. I save a fair amount of money, but I also go off and buy Dior sunglasses (hey, they were from ebay & 1/4 the retail price! but it's Dior, so that's still a lot -_-) and 10,000 pairs of shoes and, er, a lot of coffee.

I've been freaking out lately about how I'm a junior in college and haven't done anything. This morning I was talking to my mom about how I didn't go to Wheaton. It was my first choice school and I got an acceptance letter and a half-tuition scholarship. But I turned it down so my parents wouldn't have to spend $20,000 a year and I wouldn't have to take out loans. If I had gone I would've had this research stipend whatsit that you're supposed to use to do some kind of project before junior year. I'd be doing that now... what would it be? Would I feel like I'm doing something, instead of how I feel now which is more like, I'm so, so bored all the time?

I thought about getting a new job or a second job this summer. But there's a problem which is: I need a LOT of time off in the next few months. My best friend's high school graduation, a week-long trip to Canada, a week-long trip to North Carolina to see my cousin who just had a baby, the three-day-long URI Summer Writing Conference... My current job is really good about time off because I've been there so long and my boss knows I'm not just blowing it off or anything. So it seems like I can't get a new job and say, "Hey, by the way, I kind of need half the summer off. Cool?"

In high school, I was on that track where you're supposed to go away for college, do fabulous things, come back and dazzle everyone with your achievements. And that is true of people I know who did go to those high-end schools. They're impressive. I'm still jealous and that sucks! My mom said to me, "You're not even 20, you have plenty of time to do awesome things." Which is true but I still feel like there is this huge part of my life that's missing, because I just don't know what to do to make things exciting!

clueless?

For a long time I've kind of been going around with the conviction that I'm just not that good at this whole "being a person" thing. Other people seem to have much more of a handle on how to be alive in the world and I feel like I don't have a clue. It doesn't help that I put measurements on things to try to gauge how well / poorly I'm doing, for instance:

I graduated high school two years ago and I still don't have my shit together, have no definite career ambitions and lack direction, oh no!
or,
I broke up with a boyfriend eight months ago and I'm still not in another relationship, oh no!, what is wrong with me?, etc.
or,
I've been living this life for approximately 19.67 years, and I'm still quite afraid of a lot of things and still don't know what all this means, oh no!
or,
I'm a junior in college (HOLY CRAP) and I still get nervous around new people, haven't participated in extracurricular activities, not to mention I don't even know what beer tastes like AND I still haven't been to Europe, OH NO!

Wellll, it is worthless to put such limits, measurements, timetables, etc.etc.etc. on things, because the truth is every experience is valuable and even if you are not where you are 'supposed' to be according to some Theoretical Life Plan... you can't plan these things. Go with the flow, learn from where you are, and whatnot. But that still doesn't stop me from panicking whenever I realize, HEY, I'm not where I thought I would be. But where is that, even?

I think I have to let go of a lot of the old expectations, ways of measuring success, and all that crap. There's a voice in my head that's part me at age seventeen, part my favorite teachers in high school, and part everyone who has ever hurt me or let me down, and that voice says: "I think you're failing. Come on, prove to me you're worth something. What've you got?" The voice also says silly things like, "You should've gone to Wheaton!" as though that would make me feel like a success.

If I actually look at where I am now it's not bad at all and some parts are actually quite wonderful. That doesn't mean there isn't plenty of room for improvement & new experiences though. I just have to stop beating myself up about where I'm Supposed To Be, and be where I am, moving toward where I want to be.

found

I think I found something. I hope it's something.

time travel

Sometimes I think: no more.
No more writing about the after-rain and the melancholy of beautiful days without you and how time passes and you leave.
No more thinking about the past and wishing I were there.

It's 11:49pm on May 19. Exactly two years ago I was somewhere between that legendary last dance of the senior prom and Maddie's living room falling asleep playing apples to apples. A lot of things from back then are broken, but not everything. And I healed from that. Or did I? Haven't I been a little bit lost ever since that glorious time ended?

You looked to me like a kind of renaissance in the form of a college guy who likes to have a good time. I don't have enough just plain good times. But the good times mean everything to me. However, not your good times.

I save dates on the calendar, pictures, fliers, ticket stubs, flowers. I remember when. I hold so tightly on to memories. I take the sound made by rustling taffeta and the blinding light of camera flashes and the pulse of music and put them all in a box. And running down white hallways and falling asleep with friends all around into another box. October and sidewalk magic and art-fair glances over the statuary goes into a newer one.

Seaside kisses and delirious spring aren't boxed up yet, they're lying around in plain view and I sit there staring at them.

A big part of my life is made up of my vivid memory. Recalling exactly how things looked and felt right then. I love it. It's almost like time travel except it really, really hurts when you can't actually ever go back.

I need something that will make me want the future more than the past.

memory

When I think that it's okay, I'm almost over you, I can cut ties and move on completely... right about then is when I remember. That day. That few-week oasis. Living in enchantment.

I think that you're a jerk. You broke my heart. You wouldn't even care. You're not right for me. You wouldn't be good for me, good to me. We're not into the same things. You party too much. You're an asshole. Wanted sex on the third date. Never apologized for anything.

Yes, all that is true. But the truth of that doesn't change the beauty of the time I spent with you. Because that sun-drenched day on the rocks by the sea, away from the world with only you - that will always be one of the best memories. One of the best days of my life. And that is what's heartbreaking about all this.

I panic at the thought of the memory fading with time. I want to keep it alive, put it somewhere safe where it will always stay as it is, bright, vivid, warm, sparkling. It's a place, a place that only existed for one glorious day. And now that I can't go back there, what do I do with the memory of that day? With the memory of you, who I barely knew?

may 18th

Your graduation is on TV right now. If I didn't have to go to work, would I sit in rapt attention as the letters of last names move interminably toward yours? Would I watch you on the screen getting your diploma? I probably would. Through the A's, B's, I would read a book, pretending I didn't care, but around the E's I would look up from the book and try not to feel too pathetic about watching. Maybe you're not even there. I didn't ever know you well enough to find out if you were going.

Hanging over this, my view of the blue-robed figures on the TV screen, is that day sitting with you on the lawn at Lambda, asking if you were excited to be graduating. It was such a beautiful day. April 15. Only hours before we kissed by the sea. You, before leaving this place, still having schoolwork to do, still in classes, still interested in me.

I always view time as a place. That little bit of time I knew you, the last times you would be as you were, in college, sitting on that lawn. The time I spent with you is a place. I can't go back there, but I'm learning that that's okay. When you graduate, good luck.

written by the seawall

Three hours of sunlight left and I wasn't sure what to do with them. Nikki had to go home so I dropped her off and drove here to the sea. On the way over, the loneliness set in. Here at the beach on a warm day is supposed to be a place where you are happy, in love, with your friends, laughing in the sun and feeling like this day is forever. It's not quite warm but not too cold and where there are thin clouds white over the pale blue sky, the sea looks greyish. They are putting up a carnival and all the rides are standing still right now.

Why is it that I could only fully convince myself that I am alive when I was with you and your friends at sunset by the river, in the perfectly slanting light and the slow current of the clear water? Why do I only feel like things are right when I have been joyfully shocked like that out of my everyday routine? And how unfair is it to have to rely on other people to come and pull me out of my own life! Other people, who can let me down at any moment, like you did.

Driving by the rental houses in Bonnet, the liquor stores, the restaurants, I felt sad that there is this whole beach-town college life at my own school, and though I'm a student there just as much as anyone else, I don't see how to enter that world. Unless someone else like you comes along and pulls me into it, like you almost did, like you could've done if you'd wanted to.

Why is that world even so attractive? Why am I still scanning crowds for you? Maybe it's because that world, that happens in those little September-to-May rentals and in booze-soaked warm nights and with friends all around all the time - because that world seems to naive me like a place where no one thinks of sorrow, where there's no need for worry. I envy you and them the privilege of having, if only for 4 years, that carefree life, those shades of irresponsibility and immaturity that seem oh so responsible and mature.

Yes, I do envy you that. I've always known sorrow and worry. I can't remember ever being carefree for more than a little while. And no matter how much I seem like I want to hide away, I really want to be seen. I want to be out there in the world. I just don't know how.

There is a boy in a blue jacket standing two broken benches to the right of me. I wonder if his heart is broken or bruised too. If he wishes he could be carefree. I'll never know because he just walked away.

The cold isn't so bad when it's the middle of May by the sea. I felt cold like this when you walked me all the way down the beach. Cold in a way where you know you will be warm again because you are so happy now. But right now it's only the memory of happiness. It was exactly one month ago when I kissed you for the first time. And many other times before the last time, but all on one golden day.

How can I find a way to shake this, feeling like my life isn't going anywhere I want it to go? What can I do by myself to change all this?

scribbled in journal today

You were the first one in a while to make me feel desired, sought after, sexy, grown-up. I usually go through the world doe-eyed, always looking like I have no clue where I am going and like I'm afraid to ask for directions. When you wanted me, I walked around with confidence even when you weren't there. Everyone I passed, I wanted them to know that I had you and you had me.

You gave me my lost confidence back. Then you stopped calling and my assurance went away. Without you, I slunk through the world, not wanting to be seen, only wanting to catch a glimpse of you amongst the crowd and get some explanation that would allow me to stop feeling undesirable.

I've been desired before. I've been wanted then let down. I've been loved and I've broken hearts. I've desired or even loved some who have not returned the feeling. It's my history and I want to write it down because it's one of the most important things.

I said at first that having a boyfriend right now would be too much stress and worry. I am so good at lying to myself. The calling and the waiting, the coexisting ecstasy of anticipation and constant fear of disappointment, the wondering, the deliciously unbearable inability to think of anything else... I convinced myself and my friends that I didn't want that. Liar, liar. The truth is, it's what I live for. Every time it's absolute magic. Unlike anything. The best thing.

How could I tell the lie that I didn't want that? Because I still felt sad and tired back then, grey and worn-out. Not anymore. Your beautiful eyes looking at me gave me something back, something precious that I had lost or thrown away by accident. I have to thank you for that. Your desire dusted away all the dirt and cobwebs and now I am new.

Even though you broke my heart. Maybe a crack is what it needed, ecstasy then shatterglass, even though it hurts. Your desire may not be there now, but it once was there and, if only for a moment, it was all for me. I can always keep that. And I am not going to stay broken. I feel the healing starting now. I've been shocked by joy into waking up and cracked wide open.

written today, sitting on the bench near independence

They're putting up the graduation stage today, in the after-rain brightness of this spring day, getting warmer. Green everywhere, lush, summer. This muggy summer smell of it-might-have-rained-this-morning-in-Eden. When I realized what the big black stage was for I felt a sharp pang of sadness that dulled as I walked under the trees across the quad. May 18th they will call your name and I don't even know if you're going to the ceremony, but that stage in the middle of lush green summer means that you are leaving and I won't see you around here.

Your car is parked at Lambda today. I'm thinking you will leave in infamy while I might slink away in heartbreak. Will you even remember me? Do I even have the distinction of being the last girl you kissed before you graduated? Maybe, maybe not, and I will probably never know...

Not even real closure. Just an absence. I guess it's only me who can control if I slink away. I said I didn't want to give you control, but I would have and wanted to actually give you everything. I'm not slinking away. I'm knowing your car is at Lambda and you are not calling me, and walking away from here through the lush green world, where the air smells wonderful and my heart is bruised but I feel the wet grass beneath my feet. It was you who ran away. I'm just leaving.

confession

Today, walking up to Independence from the parking lot, I saw an obnoxiously yellow-colored Ford Focus parked next to the library. I knew it would be yours. I mean, it is a really dreadful color, the likes of which are not often witnessed. I walked by the car and glanced in the window for telltale signs. The stack of CDs in the space between the front seats and the splintered glass of the broken digital clock. Yes and yes.

I walked by, went to Independence, dropped off my paper, ran into some people I know. Walked back by the library, back by the car again. Down to the parking lot to my car. Then I walked back up to the library again. Walked in, Nikki called, walked out. Saw some guys playing volleyball on the quad and one of them was wearing a Lambda shirt. Scanned the crowd for you. Hung up the phone and walked back into the library.

I think it generally falls under the category of pathetic to methodically circumnavigate each of the four floors of that huge library, hoping to "run in" to a guy with whom I only went on four dates, but for whom I quickly and unexpectedly fell absolutely head-over-heels... in spite of his unsavory habits (heavy drinking? smoking weed while operating a moving vehicle?), not to mention his mostly terrible fashion sense (yellow and purple argyle?). Oh yeah, and the fact that without explanation or apology, he stopped calling and I haven't heard from him in more than a week?

Yeah, okay, he's a jerk. And I think it falls under the category of pathetic to still think that he is ridiculously adorable, to replay in my head every moment that I can remember of our four dates, to have arguments with myself like the following:

Me: He's an asshole! He hasn't returned your calls or bothered to invite you anywhere in weeks! With no explanation!
Me: But his favorite book is The Little Prince! I mean, honestly, he can't be that bad...
Me: Who cares? For all you know, he could've just said that to seem cute, so he could get into your pants. Which he kind of did. Until you had the sense to tell him to stop.
Me: But he's a lot older than me! Maybe that's just how he's used to doing things!
Me: Are you serious? He definitely is used to doing things, and by things I mean slutty girls. Isn't it suspicious that the frequency of his calls took a quick dive after you told him to slow down?
Me: That was just a coincidence! It was Greek Week!
Me: That reminds me, do you really want a guy who is that into partying? Isn't that not your thing?
Me: I don't know! Maybe it wouldn't be that bad, even fun? His friends were nice...
Me: I can't stand to listen to you anymore. Why are you all mopey and not even angry at him? I say, fuck him. No wait, don't fuck him, that's the point. Good decision not to fuck him.
Me: .... ?
Me: WHY AREN'T YOU ANGRY?

And so on and so forth.

Anyway, so I spent at least an hour creepily lurking amongst shelves upon shelves of musty books and tax records from before I was born, passing strange characters like that old guy starting at the framed yearbook pictures on the walls and muttering something about someone named Joan, and slinking surreptitiously by rows upon rows of study carrels. (And upon my slinking, the tenants of said study carrels looked up at the sound of approaching sandals, bleary-eyed, and I felt like I'd been caught committing a crime.) All four floors, for heaven's sake. All the while thinking, "What are you going to do if you see him?" and retorting with, "I have no fucking clue, but I'm going to keep looking anyway."

And I didn't see you. So I did a final circuit of floors four and three and then went back outside, circumnavigated the quad, peered at the volleyball players, then made my way back past the library. Your car was gone. Then I promptly ran into a close friend of yours, who was so nice to me that I wanted to call you and scream, "WHY CAN'T YOU BE AS NICE AS YOUR FRIENDS?!" or something equally ridiculous.

And, inexplicably, ridiculously, I am still hanging on hoping there is a reason why you haven't called other than the obvious, that you don't want to see me anymore. And I'm still wondering what I did wrong instead of writing you off as an asshole. Which is dumb, but it's the truth.

it's a long story

all of this will spill out

How I felt like my life was almost empty, except the spaces filled with nightmares and the feeling that winter would never end. The stagnant, dull feeling, empty of passion or desire.

How suddenly you just walked up to me and asked me something simple. If I wanted to go out with you that day, or another time. Soon it started...

The first hints of falling, the first glimmer of joy or even ecstasy. Sitting with you at the coffee shop, you in your red shirt and nice black jacket, walking by your side along the seawall, down the shore. With you and your friends by Narrow River at sunset, where the light was so perfect and for the first time in too long to measure, I felt like I belonged, here, in the world, alive.

You were so nice, asking questions about me. What CD is in my car right now? And you laughed at my crazy stories, like the thing about the Christmas trees and pranks from high school... You leaned back against my car and said, "I had a really good time. I'd like to do this again some time." I agreed. You waved goodbye as I drove away.

When you would call or text almost every day asking if I wanted to go do things. Now I am wishing I had found a way to say yes. The Explosions in the Sky show in Providence and going over your house late at night to watch a movie.

The second date at the beach with you, in the cold and fog. I was less timid because Nikki was there. We walked together down the beach again. Then standing close to you by the seawall and eventually you put your arm around me, which felt perfect. You started terribly singing random songs. We talked and laughed. Absurd things like the benefits of selective invisibility and what if there were the ghost of a pirate behind us, who long ago drowned in the knee-deep water below and to this day haunts Narragansett in his humiliation. We agreed that we were both crazy... you still had your arm around me...

One of the best days of my life. The glorious Tuesday when we left class and walking down the stairs, I said I didn't feel like going to my classes and asked if I could go to the beach with you. Outside, into the exuberant warm air, bright colors, green leaves and flowers. Sitting on the front lawn of Lambda, next to you, looking at the flowering trees across the street and the vibrant blue sky, then glancing in your direction. Making fun of a biker dressed in yellow and purple spandex and talking about your graduation.

In your car driving to the ocean, me in the passenger seat and a friend of yours in the back. I tried to think of things to say and found it surprisingly not as difficult as usual. You kept switching CDs and the only one I remember is Ziggy Stardust, after which you said, "Thank you, David Bowie." You asked if I had ever read The Phantom Tollbooth and said it would be fun to be a children's book author.

At Bass Rock, two rich people's dogs started to follow us as we clambered over the rocks. We went down to a secluded place. Leaning against a rock by the sea, you next to me and Steve sitting on the next rock over, sipping beers and passing a one-hitter between the two of you. Me? No thanks.

Then the quiet when you laid down on another rock, looked up at me and said, "I can't believe you're not even facing the ocean," when I smiled and climbed down next to you. It was a bit of an awkward position so you said, "Is that completely uncomfortable?" "Yeah, kind of completely uncomfortable." We laughed about how I, wearing a skirt, was dressed inappropriately for rock climbing. Steve got up & disappeared over the rocks.

You put your arm around me and I laid my head on your chest. Eyes half-closed, your hand stroking my waist, my hand holding onto your half-unzipped sweatshirt. The sunlight everywhere, warming every part of me, and the soft sound of the sea. When I opened my eyes I would see your chest, your hand, a can of beer and the bright blue ocean. As I laid there with you, time slowed and stopped and the moment was eternal. We didn't say anything. We might already have been there for hours when you lifted your head, looked at me, smiled and kissed me softly.

It felt like being under a spell, completely enchanted. An entirely private place, only us, on the rocks by the sea. Speaking or sudden movements might have broken the spell. I felt completely relaxed and completely elated at the same time. One of the most amazing things I have ever felt.

I don't know how long we laid like that, but eventually we moved. Your foot was asleep, I moved and knocked over the beer can accidentally, then we got up and started walking over the rocks. You gave me your hand when it was difficult to climb higher. We came to another place and stood looking out to sea. I couldn't stop smiling when I looked at you and you said, "What?" Then giddily I could only say, "I like you." Then we sat down on the rock.

Sweet saltwater kisses and deep kisses, your hands, me at ease but nervous at the same time, trusting you but wondering if I really should... but all the while, still under that delicious enchantment... Until I broke away, sat looking toward the sea, then laid down beside you and said to slow down. My head on your chest, my hand on yours.

When we got up soon after that, was it really because we both said we were getting cold? Because you broke the spell by seeing what time it was? Or, because you realized you weren't going to get any?

We climbed across the rocks, found Steve, you went on an expedition to retrieve the rest of the beer, then we went back to the car and left. You made me nervous, smoking while you were driving. I made myself nervous thinking about what had happened, thinking about what you were thinking and how it didn't seem like you were thinking about it at all.

After we dropped off Steve at Lambda, when you drove me down to my car, I leaned across and kissed you quickly. I think I imagined that you looked the tiniest bit surprised. "Give me a call." Then the sudden moment of panic before I opened the door, when I asked, "You know when I said that I think we should slow down? That's not going to be a problem or anything - is it?" And you, looking carefree, saying "No, no I guess not," and I said I wanted to see you again. "So," you said, "give me a call."

"Yeah, it's my last Greek Week, and it's the only time I really care that I joined a fraternity, and..."

Greek Week, when I presume you didn't call back because you were drunk and stoned. In class Tuesday when you sat next to me and talked like normal. The Earth Day festival on the quad, when you texted me to see if I was going, the relief of being with you again. You were wearing plaid with argyle and I even thought that was cute. The biggest lamb was named Ursula and you debated whether to spend $50 on a Grateful Dead wall-hanging and we walked across the quad talking about your final film project. By the rock wall, watching the little kids walk away disappointed. Give me a call.

Last class Thursday, you were too busy to do anything, but, you said, "Another time. Give me a call." I did. Nothing back. A single drunken text message you probably didn't even know you were sending me about what you were doing that day. (Getting wasted before your last college class. Just lovely.)

Where are you? What are you doing?
At Lambda, drinking. In the kitchen at your job. Making a film. Writing your papers. At your house. At your apartment.
Why don't you call me?
What happened to how you were on the first dates, so sweet and kind and interesting, singing random songs and talking about absurd things with me?

I don't want to feel broken again... and I don't want winter to come back now...

Under the spell, everything was blooming, delirious warmth and the blue of the sky so deep and bright, drunk on spring air and thoughts of you. Waking up with the sunrise every day, half-asleep dreams about you and when I would get to see you again. Everything new, promising.

Why did you let me down?

a lack of phonecalls, the lambda drive-by, and the art of double-entendre

what's this
sitting alone at home, what am I doing, writing a poem?
while you
are in that big grey house hey pour me another one will you
and I
wanted it wanted you, everyone knows I still do

You live
in that place where there is no sorrow and where
the sun
is warm and bright and no more shadows, where
the air
itself is so intoxicating, becoming more lightheaded with
each kiss
That is what I want I swear it's what I want
That world, spinning summer ecstasy
a place where the light is perfect at sunset
over the clear river-water, and then
you smile at me and
time stops
just
like
that

Give me
something anything I would have given you half of everything
Let me
touch your hand your wrist with the tattoo of
those
damn
Greek
letters

Open the door
even just a sliver and I
don't know what I'll do
like kiss you
scream, fuck you
funny, you know the problem is
just how much
I wanted to