What's my problem? By Catherine on 3/02/2008 07:57:00 PM
Karma is a bitch. Between being sick for most of late autumn/early winter, having surgery, spending a mint to fix my car(six trips to the shop since August) only to have to buy a new one anyway, and having only two friends show up to my birthday dinner, I'm feeling like a karmatic loser. I know I'm not perfect. I'm far from it. In fact, on a day to day basis, I tell myself exactly how imperfect I am about twice as often as your average Joe. But I really thought I'd get a call, no matter how shitty my karma is. Not a text message, an IM, a voicemail-- contact. Real contact. Today I turned 24, the lamest birthday I've had in a long while, and the person who made me feel so bad for the last few days didn't phone and say hey, we're still friends. Hey, I know things have been tough for you. I understand you've had a hard winter, maybe I could have been more available, too. Maybe I'm being too harsh on you, because I haven't tried to find out where you're lost at, locked inside your head all the time. By the way, how is that novel coming? Is it done consuming your soul yet?Maybe I don't deserve it. Maybe she's right, and I care more about myself than I do about my friends. It's my fault I'm lonely and isolated, because I spend so much time living inside my head letting my words coagulate into stories that I don't remember to have any real stories of my own. When I was a kid, before high school came along, I used to think that my only real friends were books, because a book always says the same thing, doesn't waffle or have transient, lukewarm opinions. You don't have to worry about someone else's words betraying you, the way my own often do. Books are constant, and if you're lucky, the story is timeless and you learn something new every time. The only thing my book is teaching me is that I love it more than I love my life, and that's a problem, because I can't turn into Sarah and let my magic guide me. I thought my magic was my words, but now my words are killing me slowly-- first cutting me off, then sneaking up behind me to finally stab me in the back.
I'm thinking of giving up.
Labels: friends, signs, words, writing
Brings back memories... By Catherine on 12/14/2007 08:31:00 AM
Whenever New England gets hit with a storm like yesterday's, I always end up reminiscing about snow days from school, building forts, and the big luge down the hill in my backyard we built every year. Once, there was so much snow, it came up under my armpits-- it felt like a whole new world. I think that was the Blizzard of '93, when I was 9 and little bro was almost 3; that year we had three days off in a row and more than two feet of snow, especially in places the wind made drifts. Sean stepped off the porch and was up to his chin; I had to pull him out and make a path for him to walk through.That was the year I helped him build a Barney out of snow, complete with grape juice coloring and acorns for eyes. We went out early, determined to make the most of the days off. We packed snow on top of the hexagonal picnic table on the patio, building it up much higher than it actually stood, and flattened a trail into the back yard all the way to the fence. Then Dad helped us ice it down and we came in to warm up, letting it freeze for awhile. I still don't think I've gone that fast on a sled; it remains one of my best memories with Sean and my dad.
When Dad plowed the driveway that year, the snow piled about ten feet high-- maybe not, but to a nine year-old and her baby brother, it seemed huge, like a snowdrift from the Alps, ready to fall into a rolling avalanche at any time. We hollowed it out, iced that down too, and made the best fortress I would see for years, until I got to college and saw the 10x10 igloo outside Van Meter dormitory. That was also the year Kate, Jessica and I built a similar fortress in Kate's driveway, in a neighborhood with many more children, and had an all-out snow war with those terrible boys, who of course later became our first "boyfriends", if that even counts when you're in sixth grade.
Fast forward to ten years later, and the Blizzard of 2003. Adam, Wagner, Befries and I all walked the mile or so from Brooks dorm to Antonio's in downtown Amherst, through the snow and wind, because nothing could deter us from hot, delicious pizza and sweet, sweet adventure. Even a few years after that, memories of the snowbong outside Baker dorm (this was a giant replica of a bong made of snow, with its "bowl" stuffed with leaves and pine needles, not an actual functioning bong) and the igloo a bit further up the hill continue to make me appreciate snow much more than I do at 9:30 pm, shoveling out the driveway for the next morning. In fact, one of my first "dates" with Adam was a lovely walk into Amherst to do some Christmas shopping. We held hands and chatted, and I think that was the point that I realized just how big it was, just how important and special he was going to be in my life. Things like that help me remember the good things about winter, not just the miserable commutes and high heat bills.
One time, in college, we had jello shots and went sledding-- I do not condone this. I ended up lucky I didn't break my neck, literally; though, I'm told I made a very elegant arc through the air before landing on my head. I had the bruise under my chin and on my chest to prove it. Thank goodness for jello shots, they make you bounce. The next day we dug out the T-Bird and drove into town, bringing back breakfast for the crew from the Black Sheep and bunkering down to work as the snow still fell outside.
Driving to work in the dawn light this morning, watching the sun turn the drifts pink and sparke off the trees, I'm reminded that winter isn't always the desolate gray of January and March, but is, in fact, quite beautiful. It reminds me to be thankful for my friends and family, and all the memories we've had, and for the memories to come as each winter brings something new to be thankful for.
Labels: friends, memories, winter wonderland
Summer begins By Catherine on 5/29/2007 07:08:00 AM
When the pools start opening up, and the grills can be smelled from the sidewalks in my little suburban enclave, and the cat starts trying to get outside every time the door is opened, I know summer is here. It was a grill and birthday weekend, complete with too many hotdogs and lots of Stellas. I feel like a vacation all over again.School (work) is done on 6/15, and on 6/25 I will start my 5th summer as a camp counselor-- in case you didn't know, it's the best job EVER and I'd do it all year round if there was a program like that. There really is nothing more satisfying than being outdoors and playing with children. It's tempting to stay with teaching for just that reason-- summers off, freedom (plus, the benefits are fantastic, I don't think I could afford them otherwise.) Summer makes me want to purge myself of everything unnatural, to sell my possessions and live outdoors and cook over a fire. I forget about things like makeup and hairspray, can wear the same thing to work every day (because, hey, we ALL wear the same thing to work every day), don't worry about freckles or french manicures or moisturizer... Basically, summer symbolizes for me a return to how I like myself best-- simple, free, unworried. I know it's not really like that, and I'm probably somehow doing myself a great emotional injustice in saddling summer with all this meaning, but the long days and sunshine make reality a bit easier to ignore.
I think now would be a good time to start the process of weeding out what I want for myself from what is expected of me. It's also a good time to downsize on "stuff", as I know I own too many THINGS, and want to be rid of some of them. Clothes that don't fit, knick-knacks, paperwork that should be shredded or burned, a million pillows from my dorm-room years... there aren't enough words.
Labels: freedom, friends, summer
I have to post something... By Catherine on 4/23/2007 11:00:00 AM
Or else that god-awful picture will be the first thing anyone sees until forever. A lot has happened in the past few weeks... I was sick and got better, the worst mass murder in US history closed down an institute of higher learning, A and I went to Amherst to visit old friends, a whole group of my students got arrested for possession, and it's finally spring! Summer, even.The news broke in during a game of Scrabble with A's mom-- thirty feared dead at Virginia Tech, among them, the suspect. It was chilly that day, and rainy, and I'd just taken a big sip of molten-hot coffee. I thought I'd choke-- we both gasped, "Oh, my God!" and nursed burnt tongues. Everything that has come out in the last week doesn't need to be rehashed, but, WOW will suffice. I don't have anything intelligent or insightful to add, but I feel weirdly attracted to the story.
The trip to Amherst was wonderful! I miss having all our friends around, and S&S have such a cozy little place for themselves. The BOSB dinner was really fun. Maximus was hysterically drunk, and received his award with much more grace than I could have mustered, given how tanked he was. BOSB dinner tradtion-- get hammered. That's one UMass tradition I didn't participate in... Getting skunked and interacting with administrators never did seem like my cup of tea. I get so self-conscious when I drink, I can't imagine being that confident. Friday was perfectly lovely, complete with corned beef hash and eggs for breakfast (Sylvester's, in Northampton MA, is wonderful, try it out) and plenty of sunshine. I've eaten more take-out and restaurant food this weekend than is reasonable OR healthy. The diet starts tonight! :)
Saturday and Sunday kind of blur together-- sunshine, reading, Scrabble, couscous, beers and burgers. I've got the first touches of color on my arms and face-- legs still too pale to be shown outside the back yard!
As for my students, everyone is ok. That's all I'll say about that here, you never know who trolls your internets...
Labels: Amherst, friends, sunshine, vacation, VT shooting