you can shine like silver all you want but you're just aluminum

I just got back from Symmetry class...wow that sounds pretty dorky. I got up at 9, made myself a peanut butter and apple wrap for breakfast and took it with me up to campus. It's one of those gray days where it's timidly rainy and the trees on the horizon are gray with fog and distance. This day reminds me of early spring at Skidmore, only then I didn't feel so condemed to be me. I listened to a lot of Marc Cohn then, his songs Ghost Train and Strangers In a Car felt melancholy but filled with hope and carried me up the hill to campus every day. Winter was just melting away from Saratoga, some snow lingered and it was strange to see it with those licks of warmer wind. I had sent in my application to Tufts and was waiting to hear back but felt so positive I'd be accepted. Where I was felt comfortable, I had friends, I felt content with who I was, how I was, the music I was doing, but I knew I could do better. That's mostly what Tufts was about. What stands out to me so vividly from those days is the way the North Woods looked from the top of the tower dorm, green and expansive, mysterious yet undangerous, my own feeling of empowerment and invicibility, self esteem, and this reliable momentum that I was going somewhere better. That I really deserved to.

I can't help but feeling as though I catapulted myself right into Medford, hitting the ground so hard I fused with it. It's like anticipating a great vacation and finding out you're actually going to squat a storm cellar in Omaha. Only I've been here almost 5 years and I think I've been truly happy only 30% of the time.

I'm writing, and inventorying, and feeling generally miserable (self made! atta girl!) and I'm not feeling like I'm fitting into any meetings and I haven't heard back from the woman I'd really like to sponsor me (yes, it's been a day, but I'm getting something out of feeling shitty here, so lemme run with it). I had a really funny encounter at the Children's Choir yesterday when I went in for a quick meeting, and realized when I got out that I had only my parents to tell about it. I don't have anyone I can call up out of the blue and relay this incident to without a full fifteen minutes of awkward catching up. I don't know anybody. I'm really ashamed to know anybody. The thought of making enough of a friend out of someone where I'm obligated to tell them who I am and what I've done and what I want to do sounds truly impossible, and yet it's exactly what I need.

In addition to a time machine. And a sponsor. And to be institutionalized. And to go rollerblading on the beach and come home and have my entire world be okay.

I'm going to try and shake this very productive thinking with a yoga class. I've got Kelly at 2, then the children's choir at 5. Throughout all that I'll do my lesson plan for tonight and whatever writing I can manage. I'm grateful I'm busy.

Wish I lived in the black and white Walking In Memphis music video
Also wish blogger knew how to embed music. Pity.