Monday, June 18, 2012

It's Time To Ramble

I think the summer weather makes it less enticing to spend an evening drinking and writing in you, Blog. No offense to you, it's just the weather. Sunday evenings are probably the most consistent evenings I have these days. They are usually the evenings I have to myself. Where I cook, do laundry, catch up on my domestic duties...

I've decided I'm a commitment-phobe in the furniture department. For some reason I've ended up being a 28 year old woman who sleeps on a mattress on the floor. I'll be the first to admit that I'm no homemaker, but this is ridiculous. Why don't I have a bed, Blog? I am able to spend thousands of dollars so I can go to Europe on a regular basis, but I can't spare a couple hundred for a simple bed frame? This needs to come to an end. Next weekend (if I don't end up going to Winona for some Great River Shakespeare Festival action) I'm going to Ikea to peruse beds. It's going to happen. It needs to happen.

Another grown-up thing I'm trying my hand at is having and using a credit card. I applied for one, Blog, and I was approved! I don't know why I was afraid of being denied. Maybe because the only other time in my life that I tried applying for a credit card I was denied because I didn't already have a credit card.

Yes, I get it. I'm a 28 year old woman who sleeps on a mattress and has never had a credit card. Really, we can make me sound like a pathetic failure at life it we really wanted to. While we're at it, I've never seen The Princess Bride. I even have a copy here in my apartment, but have no way of watching it because this computer is so old the DVD drive doesn't work. So close, yet so far. And in the end, I frankly don't give a shit.

That's the thing. Other people want me to see the Princess Bride. Society wants me to have a credit card and a bed. I'm perfectly happy without any of those things in my life, but at the same time outside pressures have brought me to a crux. If I'm not going to get married and have kids, I might as well have a fucking bed, right? I might as well commit to something besides a family, since that's just not happening for me right now. I might as well buy slabs of particle board and curse and swear for hours as I torque the shit out of the hardware that holds it all together... Just so that my mattress isn't lying directly on the ground. God it's so stupid.

I think I'm going to start a thing on Facebook, Blog. I'm going to post the following picture of my journal from my adolescence in hopes that others will follow so we can all share the ridiculousness that used to live in all of our minds. Also, it happened to come up during my high school reunion that the girls in my class thought Mr. Voigt was sexist; a memory I had completely forgotten about. But apparently I had shared my concerns about the whole debacle with Betsy, the pre-internet version of you, Blog. (I used to be fancier in my writing entity naming in those days.

Dear Betsy, I'm going to state!! In music that is. I love music. I just wrote a really emotional letter to Angela.  I feel better now. I had to do it. I said all the things I love and stuff. It made me cry. Mother is going to make me turn off my radio and go to sleep so this might not be long. All the girls in my class (including me) want to get Mr. Voigt fired. He's sexist. Me and Tiff were doing cartwheels because the weights we needed were being taken so we were bored. And he made us run laps for 10 minutes. And then the boys would just sit around and they didn't run laps. I could talk forever on this but I have to go to sleep. Gotta go!! -Loving Sam
That's right Blog. I used to sign everything with the moniker "Loving Sam".

With that, I'm out.

-Loving Sam

Sunday, June 10, 2012

Zero Two, Zero Two, Zero Zero Zero Two

I was over thinking it, Blog. My class reunion was totally weird, but not the end of the world. I don't really know what to say about it, but I'm sure I'll formulate something in the coming paragraphs. For now I'll share a stolen Facebook photo...

There we are: living in the limelight of all those terrible mistakes we've made.

I wish I could say that being part of a small class allowed us to become close to one another and form life long friendships, but as I awkwardly found my seat at our table in the bar on Friday, I was reminded that we all are kind of assholes to each other. And not the kind of haha-I'm-just-being-a-playful-and-jesting asshole, but more of a I-actually-kind-of-hate-you-but-will-put-up-with-you-because-I-have-to asshole. It's ok. I think we're at least all on the same page and somehow there is an unbreakable and forced bond between us because of it. I can't say it's a pleasant bond, but it's a bond. And bonds are what count, right?

With the alcohol, the parties, and confidence that comes with being an adult, I actually had a pretty good time. Believe it or not, I did have a friend or two in high school and seeing them was fun. I even figured out how to hang out with a couple people I didn't even consider socializing with back then. It was refreshing and makes me feel better about my place with those who I shared my high school years with.

But really, we were, and still are, a bunch of assholes. It becomes pretty apparent when the memories we bring up consist of making fun of other people for mispronouncing words when reading aloud in class (i.e. "spaceship" coming out as "spakey ship") and how Mr. Strand would throw erasers at us.

Or how Mr. Tollefson (God rest his soul) slammed this door so hard one day, the glass cracked.. That might have been because of us...

And sure I get a sense that most of them are kind of annoyed with me just because sometimes people are no matter what you do, but they're still my class. The only one I'll ever have in the high school sense. I might as well embrace them like I (reluctantly) embraced North Dakota after I was done with college. They are part of my upbringing, after all. I've learned that these are things you cannot change, but can grow to love (even if it's in a you-don't-really-want-to-but-kind-of-have-to-so-you-figure-it-out kind of way).

Kind of like how I figured out how to love being on this float.

Friday, June 8, 2012

Tonight I Meet My Past

Blog, I leave for my high school reunion in half an hour. Well, technically I just leave for home in half an  hour. The home that is North Dakota. The home that I used to hate and grew to love. Now I'm scared of it because my classmates are going to be lurking around the quiet streets of Finley. Only the streets this weekend won't be quiet. They'll be filled with parties and bands and parades and events. It is Finley Days, Blog. And the class of 2002 is going to be making an appearance.

Not all of us, of course, but more than I thought would ever get together for a reunion. I honestly didn't even think we had it in us to organize one. I certainly wasn't going to head up anything. I guess that's what we get for having a guy like Brad graduate with us though. He's bought up all of Finley over the past ten years and now has invited us to reconvene in the place we all have in common. I'm tempted to take furious notes the entire time so I can recount every oddity, forgotten memory, and sick gut feeling I experience. I'm also petrified that I will for some reason be called out as the weirdo I was in high school and embarassing memories will surface. I never belonged with them. I have a feeling I still don't.

Still, three things I have now that I didn't have then are experience, social skills, and the ability to drink alcohol. I plan to use all accordingly. I also have learned how to shop for clothes that fit me, embrace my curly hair, put on make up, and be comfortable in my own skin. But what is it about those you spent your adolescence with being the ultimate keepers of every insecurity you've ever had? I feel like want to prove something to them, but at the same time I don't care. I'm honestly going because I was going to Finley Days anyway. And I'm curious. I'm curious to see how far I've come since those days when I was made fun of because I was weird. I still am weird, but I'm ok with it now. I want to see how that weirdness translates to those who knew me during my formative years now that we're adults.

Basically this boils down to "blahdiddy blahdiddy blah blah blah I'm going to my ten year reunion and feel just like everyone else who ever went to a ten year reunion blahdiddy blah".

Time to drive to North Dakota so a rendition of this can happen:

There we are. Primed and ready to get out there and make huge mistakes.

Tuesday, June 5, 2012

Late Night Thoughts

Blog. I am doing ok. I am happy. I think I'm figuring out what I need in my life. Creativity. Friends. Activity. Adventure. Genuine experiences. These things may seem obvious, but for awhile they have been anything but. I hope I can ride this high for as long as it will let me be a passenger. It is easy to get caught between four very close walls that obstruct your view of what is out there. But take the time to build a door, even if you don't know how, and you can make your way out and into a new and exciting and satisfying world.

Yeah, I've probably had this sort of an epiphany before, and who knows how long this will last, but I can only make the most of it and acknowledge it to you Blog. Recently there has been a phrase that I've keep close at hand, especially for those times when I feel totally inept and stupid and out of my league:

"Do it because you love it"

Don't do it for any other reason. If you love it, do it. Unless you're Jeffrey Dahmer and love killing animals and young boys, then maybe hold back and figure your shit out. But if it's a healthy hobby like writing or knitting or trivia or cars or golf or anything constructive, do it. It doesn't matter what anyone else thinks, because if it did, you wouldn't have the innate free will that drives you towards whatever it is you love to do.You wouldn't have the unbearable guilt and regret that takes over your conscious when you turn to other "more practical" activities. You wouldn't have that exhilarating ecstasy flood not only your mind, but your soul, when you make yourself available to the malicious jaws of failure and self consciousness only to come out on the other side unscathed; better, even. You are more at ease and confident in that one thing; that thing that is in your life for no other reason than the fact that you love it. And the only reason you do it, is because you love it. And the ecstasy you feel comes from experiencing that thing you love.

One thing I've learned is that if I love it, I fear it as well. This is experiences, people, and things for me. It's because love is an incredibly vulnerable feeling and vulnerability is a scary thing. But if you overcome that scary feeling and go for it, you fall even more in love. I might not have been able to go there with the people in my life, but at this point I'm determined to do it with the experiences, arts, crafts, and creativity that is out there. We are all made to love (except for Jeffery Dahmer and probably Ted Bundy too) and we should tap into that whether it be in our relationships, careers, interests, or callings. If you're lucky, it could be all of those things.

For now I'm going to do my best to surround myself with inspiring people, promising plans, and alcohol. Because in the end alcohol lets down our inhibitions enough so we can conquer that fear and everything else that goes along with it.