Sunday, January 18, 2009

after all this time...

Since as long as I can remember that I have liked boys (and they have equally liked me back) I have been going somewhere. If some boy wanted some chance to get to know me, date me, whatever I always threw up the caution flag that I would be leaving in x ammount of time. Whether it was months, weeks, days or even hours, I always let them know. Letting them know sometimes was easier than others, but they always knew. So recently I came up against a boy if you will. Someone who liked mem and at first I thought I could equally like him. As time went on though, I learned he would be leaving. I had found this place where I could be happy standing still for a bit and he was leaving. I don't know why but it seemed from then on out I could not like him. Whether it was the way he kissed or the shaky feeling of his hand on my back. All of these things made me cringe about him. He had told me upfront that he would be leaving in x ammount of months and I couldn't believe it. While that was some time ago, and I have learned alot more about him, I just realized something new this morning. What if I hadn't known he was leaving? What if it was subconsciencely that that kept me from really liking him. I mean I wouldn't be leaving him so why would I let him leave me? I guess my main question today is. Could I have liked him more had I not known he was leaving? I'll probably never know that, and I'm okay with that.

Tuesday, January 13, 2009

needing a Gidget

It’s no secret that I jump to conclusions. It’s also no secret that I’m a bitch in many people’s eyes. I mean hell even I know that. Here’s the thing though. I’m trying to succeed in a cut throat industry. An industry that from what I’ve seen is mostly men. I realized the first week of class in August that I was going to have to work hard as hell to even get ahead a little. For a whole semester I was working with people, busting my ass, offering up ideas and not even being recognized for them. I guess you could say I got used to being stabbed in the back by the people I didn’t even expect it from. I mean sure there’s a few guys who I would put a dollar on, that they would cheat me out of something in a heart beat. It’s the one’s I never imagined doing it though, they do it the worst.
So it’s the moment that I open myself up to a new group. The moment I become a team member, the moment that I plan and share an idea. It’s slipped out from under my feet. I sit on my ass having slipped myself wondering how this happened. That was last semester. This semester though, THIS YEAR. No I’m done with that.
Recently I was put into a group and after having planned the shoot and organized it. It comes time to shoot and guess where I am? Not there. I could feel the knife coming at my back I could see it too. It was in that moment that I pulled away. Shoved the rug under their feet. Furious all the while. I made a list. I know who will work with me and who wont. And I also know how badly it will hurt to get stabbed…. Which I will. But only when I least expect it.
I do believe that this knife has dulled down some.
Now though with this project due in two days, I’m shooting tonight. I came up with the idea on the spot. I know where I’m shooting and how it’s going to get done. The teacher had said something in class today… “You’ll always need a Gidget on set” and he meant some one like me. It was a backhanded complement. People are learning that as little as I may seem to do or not do, they need me. And the people today will realize that, the hard way albeit. And for having to learn the hard way, I pitty them.
So there you go.

Thursday, January 8, 2009

From not too long ago

I’ve heard of people partying the night before and then waking up still drunk the next day, but I never believed it. That is until this morning…
Last night was family bowling night in Marshall and I went out before any of my family would meet me there. It was good to see old family friends that I hadn’t seen in awhile. I also ran into a couple of friends who I had written off some time ago. Patrick had come back from the city for a bit. Ryan was there as well but I knew that Ryan hadn’t gotten sucked in by Chicago. And if you can imagine, Adam was with the two of them.
I had seen Adam a few nights ago when I went to pick up Joel at Hustlers. And when I say I saw him, I mean I saw him standing outside of Hustlers and hoped that he hadn’t seen me. Don’t get me wrong, I love seeing old friends. I just feel that there’s a time and a place for it. And I didn’t think that me being a DD at three in the morning was one of those times. Seeing Joel was good, just as it always is. It was drunk Joel though. Usually drunk Joel and not drunk Joel are two different people. Drunk Joel once tried to make out with me, even though sober Joel is clearly gay. Drunk Joel this time, well he felt that he should tell me what he really thought of his aunt. Seeing as his mother’s brother and her were going through a some what complicated separation. I do love Joel drunk or not, make no mistake about that. In the previous months I have come to realize just how special it is to have a friend that has known you throughout your whole life.
Seeing Ryan, Patrick, and Adam though, in the flesh. Well it was brought on a warm familiar feeling that could only come from a place deep deep in my heart. I hugged Patrick, thankful he was there. He seemed equally excited to see me. We had both escaped our small town childhood’s in search for something bigger. Patrick and Ryan bickered like always, and Adam still had this aloof way about him. Like he was just existing in his own existence. It didn’t take long until we were all drinking. Okay let me rephrase that. It didn’t take long till I was drinking. I think they had been drinking before they even went to the bowling alley. Adam announced that he would be having a party at his house. I was somewhat reluctant to go. Adam had clearly made a pass at me last year, and it was the thought of this that made me somewhat paranoid.
It was probably ten or so when we went to Adam’s house. Lucas, Melissa, JB, Zach Jones and Ryan McKinney were there already. I hated to admit it but as much as I hated this small and town and most things about it, it was so good to see so many familiar faces. Most of the people I knew from only high school, but Ryan I had known since I was four. Ryan had filled the margins of many notebook pages in the fifth grade. Ryan was a previous childhood crush. Inside, the boys wasted no time blaring some music that I didn’t pay too much mind to. As a group of us gathered around the table to play some ridiculous drinking game, Adam danced around, apparently feeling the music. The game began. It was some games where rules were added as you played. If you mess up or forget the rule, you drink. Pretty much the premise to any drinking activity. Some guy next to me, someone I had probably gone to high school with at some time or another… He was showing me his iphone, and some video on you tube at what I guess was an attempt to empress me. It just made me forget the rule and thus lead to more drinking.
It wasn’t until the cops showed up that I got paranoid and seriously considered just calling for a ride home. But my attention was distracted when Ryan and Patrick announced we would be going to their house. I was nervous. Mostly for the fact that I hadn’t been there in so long, and some minor but important little details of my life happened there. Not that I would let anyone know that.
It was more drinking and more games at Patrick’s house. Watching everyone, it was weird. We had all grown up. Ryan had a girl friend which was weird. Ryan’s brother who I had seen the day before had a girlfriend which was weird. And what was even more weird was that Michael had a girlfriend. That one got to me the most I think. He had been such a (for lack of a better term) player in high school that it was weird to think of him as serious with anyone.
The last thing I remember last night was passing out in the recliner. I think I woke up about five in the morning to watch JB put himself to sleep on the hardwood floor. Ick. I went back to sleep praying for sun light to come soon so I could call my mom to come pick me up. When I woke up again, I was eight. No luck on the ride though.
I sat in the recliner for another hour, trying to make sure I hadn’t done anything too stupid the night before. I couldn’t remember doing anything all that bad. I went back into Patrick’s room and sat on his bed playing with his phone, it wasn’t too long until he woke up. I went back into the living room a short time later and tried to fall back to sleep only to realize the world was spinning.
And for the first time in my life… I was still drunk from the night before.

Friday, January 2, 2009

heading home...

I was supposed to fly home at four ten. I would fly into Philadelphia and then to Wilmington. Well the flight to Philly was so delayed that I was going to miss my connection flight. So instead they let me change my flight so that I fly into Charlotte and then to Wilmington, Yeah! I love it that way. Even though there were moments when I hated being home, I had a good time. The good usually seem to out way the bad. I think that’s the way it usually is though.
It’s a new year and I’m trying to be a new person. I guess we’ll see how that works out once I get home… I love that I have my own home. My own place that is mine. My bed, my sink, my couch.
I was reading Into the Wild last night, trying to finish it before I had to fly home. I wanted to leave it at the lake for everyone else. My mom had read the book years before and couldn’t get over the idea that Chris McCandless was crazy for wanting to go into the wild and dissapear from everyone. After reading the book I understood his feeling completely. There was something in the book that was talking about how he didn’t like relationships with people. He liked being around people, until they started to expect things from him, then he’d run off again. I thought it was nice to know that I wasn’t the only who’d ever wanted to do that. To have relationships with people, only at arms length. For me that feeling comes and goes, depending on the day.
A year ago I had an incident with my family. It took awhile for them to move on from what I’d done. It took my brother eight months before he would talk to me again. He came home over Christmas and it was good seeing him again. I was excited to hopefully talk to my brother in the idea that he and I would become closer. Wouldn’t you know it thought I was wrong. I think I maybe talked to him four times the whole time we were home at the same time. I had used his phone up grade to get a new iphone. I guess that was what broke the straw on a fragile camels back. I brooded over it for a few days. He had gone to spend a few days with my cousin, in an attempt to escape me. It was on day two and half that he was gone that I realized I didn’t care. I realized he just finds it easier to be mad at me than to try and make anything better or to ever be mad at anyone else. I know he will never come visit me in North Carolina and I probably wont see him except over Christmas and maybe once or twice over a few summers. So why wouldn’t he stay mad at me? I didn’t cosign his student loan for school so he can be mad at me. I’m not going to school an hour away from my home town so he wont see me every time he goes home. I figure he sees it that he’s not losing anything by being mad at me.
Last year around month six of having not talked to my brother. My aunt told me that adult relationships are a lot harder to fix than relationships when we’re younger. I took that to heart and made my attempt at flying the white flag. He can either want me to be in his life or not, and I guess I’m leaving that at his choice. But you know what? It’s not because I didn’t try.