Tuesday, March 31, 2009
I can’t really believe a part of me still wishes things had worked out. How badly I had wanted it to work out. How badly it did not work out. How awful it all was for you, for me. On paper, you would've been it. Everything my parents had always hassled me about. The one in medicine, the one who would take care of me, the one who would get on a plane to come see me-a girl he barely knew. But then I remember how little you really knew me, and how I would never be the image of the girl you had in your mind. And I know, I did what I had to do.
It has always been weird to me, to make something out of nothing. To meet someone and decide you’d like them to be a part of your life. And then they start to gain weight in the story. Late night conversations, banter, your tongue in my mouth, my hand in yours. And then events transpire. And for some reason, sometimes, we make the decision not to have them in our life anymore. And at the end, I always wondered-How did I get here? At what point was the only acceptable solution distance and silence.
Monday, March 30, 2009
Sunday, March 29, 2009
I have these massive papers to write, and a week and a half to do them.
To be honest, I'm not sure how I feel about you, since currently I feel nothing but perhaps frustration. But the thing is, the thought of starting conversation with you again is exhausting to me. And I guess it's really as simple as that. I don't have any interest in adding any more weight to my life at present time. And maybe that makes me a bitch. Maybe that makes me complicated in this attempt to uncomplicate my life. But it is what it is, isn't it?
Saturday, March 28, 2009
Are all men like this? It will hit the 3-6 month mark of when I threw them out of my life and they come back with the EXACT SAME LINE. "I miss talking to you."
Is there some manual that teaches men these opening lines? Is this what happens in locker rooms?
Without fail, every single time. I'm bewildered. Am I that good of a conversationalist? And by this time they think it's okay to approach me with this because they think I should've gotten over whatever complications I had by then.
For the life of me, I don't understand why men do this. When a guy stops talking to me, even when we're good friends, I generally leave him alone. Because there was an obvious reason for him to do that. Even if I miss him, I leave him alone. Because I understand he needs space.
I mean, I guess it's nice to know a man still wants to talk to me after I pull the crazy psycho asshole gig on him. So, I don't know, maybe I should feel glad? I'm just perplexed that they never seem to understand where I'm coming from. I stopped talking to them for a reason. I understand they miss talking to me, but when they ask this of me, it seems a bit selfish on their part. It's like dood, just leave me alone. When I'm ready, I will talk to you again if I choose.
Am I unreasonable? I do not understand, and I'm just frustrated. Your lack of understanding trivializes everything, and that really kind of makes me feel foolish. As if I have no basis for feeling the way I do.
Friday, March 27, 2009
Over a year ago, I stepped into the USATODAY building in Mclean, Virginia for the first time to take an exam for my application to Columbia’s Journalism school. I’d never been to or seen the building before, and I remember loving the large glass window panes, the architectural style of the whole structure. And I wondered, if one day I could somehow work here, that’d be pretty sweet. But it was a long shot, one of those muses where you never actually think will come to be in reality.
I didn’t get accepted into Columbia last year, so I bought a one-way ticket to Florence, Italy to pursue a one year masters program in European Union Policy. Solely to leave home and live a year abroad. Three years ago, while spending a summer in London studying, living abroad an entire year became a life goal. And now it’s almost done. making my random muses into reality has really come to fore lately. I remember sophomore year of college, Ben first told me about the UAE and how they had all these ridiculous man made islands. And I thought in passing, how wonderful it would be to see one day. And in three weeks I will be in Dubai. And I never really thought I would make any of these muses real. But here I am, checking off my life to do list as if they were items on a grocery list.
Leaving undergrad behind, I was ready because for once I wasn’t binded within institutional confines. The world was mine-I could do whatever I chose with my time, my life. And here I am. Two years pass, and I’m just that close to making everything I’ve ever wanted a reality.
Someone: We have so much work to do and we're going to drink.
Kim: Whatever, we're fucked anyway.
Leigh: We're already fucked so we might as well keep fucking ourselves
Our professor appears behind us as we open the front door. Smiles awkwardly and walks in the opposite direction, even though he was headed to the bus stop which was in our direction.
But anywho, Monday nights at the Lions Fountain. They accept American dollars and for every beer you buy, you also get a free shot. We met Dan, this random New Yorker who'd just come from Lebanon. And later there was Alex from San Diego at the bar. Who I mentioned after I returned to our table, and Alex happened to have been Dan's random drinking partner all week. So Alex came over, he wore converses and his jeans were fine, so we accepted him. We all happened to be political science majors. Weird.
Of course then, he gets on a rant about the Smashing Pumpkins and why he couldn't understand why Leigh didn't care for them. Personally I've always enjoyed the music at this bar. But anyway, Leigh later determined his converses were too clean and the knots on his shoelaces were all wrong. Needless to say, he has not been Facebook friended.
Smashing Pumpkins. 1979.
Speaking of Lions.
We were on a class trip to Brussels 03.09.09 - 03.13.09. Ilk, our lone Iranian, wanted to take us to this authentic Middle Eastern tea house. We were the only ones in the establishment and the woman had long black hair with a mole-ish face looked like she could've tortured us slowly. There were three teas listed on the menu. Um, and this lovely one was Lipton tea from none other than Food Lion.
Needless to say, Ilk was not too happy with the events which ensued. Ah, but alas, it's moments like these which make life any fun.
Wednesday, March 25, 2009
And this came up at the most opportune time. We finally figured out Matt's asking price.
On having his credit card fucked by Greece.
Matt: I'd rather get fucked in the butt.
Kim: So your asking price is 899 euro?
Matt: Yes. Actually yes.
And on the complexities of ethnicity.
Matt: Aren't you white by injection? Because you only bang white guys?
False, but well played. Well played.
Point Count: Matt 6, Kim 5.
Monday, March 23, 2009
“What? Which one am i?”
“The one that pushes guys away,” she’d said.
“When they get close.”
Ironic, considering the chain of last nights conversation with you.
“What is your problem?” You had asked.
“Er, I don’t really have a problem.”
And I was annoyed you never seemed to take a moment for me.
“I’m really bad at getting back to people,” you’d said.
I proceeded on a self-deprecating rant on how it didn’t matter to me whether I mattered to you or not.
“Are you done?” And you'd said it as if it were a statement. You'd waited patiently for me to finish.
“Why does everything have to be so complicated with you.”
“You can’t push me away.”
And how do you seem to know me so well, when you really shouldn’t know me at all.
Friday, March 20, 2009
It’s that time again. I have 3 months and less than 2 weeks left in this beautiful city. It’s weird. I was taking a walk across the arno, somewhere, recently, when it suddenly occurred to me how much I’m going to miss living here. It suddenly dawned on me that this place has become home. After long weeks away traveling, I find the only place I want to be is in my bed in my bedroom, here.
And of course, I’m always prematurely sad by the thought of leaving anywhere I’ve grown accustomed to. The time has come again. We were sitting outside the Old Stove, this bar, actually this bar that we had discovered when we had first arrived in the city over six months ago. We never go there anymore because we’ve discovered other places, but somehow on this Wednesday, after an entire day in the Palazzo Vecchio successful completing an EU simulation, we ended up there. The weather was almost as warm as it had been when we arrived last summer, and I thought, it’s going to be so weird when I’m sitting in some other bar on the other side in a few months. And how much I’m going to yearn for this city, these people. Because regardless of everything we have been through-at each other’s throats, driving one another crazy-they’re pretty much my family by now. When this ride we’re on ends, after we part, even if I never cross paths with some of them again, we had this time-now, here. And fuck, it was one amazing ride.
As I’m writing this, my future’s being decided. Do I deserve this fellowship? I don’t know. Compared to the people currently in the running, I’m probably grossly underqualified. But then again, I always suffer from underestimation and lack of assertiveness. Mental note: must work on that.
But if I got it, well. I can’t believe I was even considered, so it was an honor sir, nonetheless.