Presenting Alex in Dreamland!

Last night, I recieved a Sign. I say it with a capital s because I am fairly sure that it Means Something and it is Significant. Normally, I'm really not one to read too deeply into dreams -- well, okay, you can all debate that -- but normally my dreams don't make any sense at all. I'm talking dreams where I'm in a hot-air balloon trying to sell Girl Scout cookies to whoever I was "in love" with at the time. (It's in my archives somewhere, either on my first blog or on here -- look it up if you must, I assume it's during my freshman year.)

But last night, I had a dream that not only sort of made sense (a large portion of it did not but that's beside the point) but it also left me with a huge sense of calm. Like, I can do this. (I guess I'm really into italicising things today.)

So my dream followed the general plot of going to a movie with some friends after a grad party. (There's an unusual bit that I have to mention first, just because it seems like a really good idea.) We stopped by Alcatransit, just for kicks, only to discover a "panic room" that was centrally located near a bunch of different classrooms. It turned out that this "panic room" was really a special bathroom for girls who had their periods and needed pads, tampons, chocolate, etc. in an emergency before heading off to their next class. I don't know about you, but it seemed like a very good idea to me. (At least, at the time it did.) They even had shrink-wrapped brownies that tasted good! Mmm, chocolate...

Anyway. So I guess I was leaving the grad party when somebody gave me two gifts. The first was a bracelet, but the second was something I "wasn't supposed to open until you get home." So I got home and opened the second, smaller box. It was a letter.

The letter basically said, "We've had some great times together, it's time to move on. Don't worry about me, don't worry about you. It'll all be okay. I think it's unfair of you to make accusations against me because you never told me in the first place... so don't. It's a bit late now, isn't it?"

I have absolutely no idea why this made me feel better because it was not how anything works out in real life (or, at least, in my life). But I woke up with a sense of relief. It felt like the closure I'd been looking for, even though the closure was not from the source itself.

I don't have to drive myself insane. Everything will be okay. This summer is flipping strange because of everything we want to do/are going to do. I don't even know when I'm officially moving. (It's somewhere between the 20th and the 27th.) But come August and we won't be here... and this is the place where I did most of my growing up (although I've still got a hell of a ways to go).

I guess I just don't deal well with change. I am boring and too serious and I need to lighten up. That's why I've started reading Lake Wobegon Days. It's an easier way to get Madame Bovary off my mind. I read too much depressing stuff -- or, at least, I have this year. It's time to let the sunshine into my life.

Edit. I just remembered one of the themes of the dream. The letter also said, "I forgive you for any bad thoughts you might have had about me." (Or something to that effect.) It's an incredibly presumptuous statement to make, in a way, but at the same time, it was what I needed to hear, even if it wasn't from the lips I needed it from. Maybe we are telepathic. I doubt it. We never really were.

All my entries sound the same after a while.

Was reading last night when I came across a passage that seemed incredibly relevant.

"But I! I would have given you everything. I would have sold all, worked for you with my hands; I would have begged on the highroads for a smile, for a look, to hear you say 'Thanks!' And you sit there quietly in your armchair, as if you had not made me suffer enough already! But for you, and you know it, I might have lived happily. What made you do it? Was it a bet? Yet you loved me -- you said so. And but a moment since -- Ah! it would have been better to have driven me away. My hands are hot with your kisses, and there is the spot on the carpet where at my knees you swore an eternity of love! You made me believe you; for two years you held me in the most magnificent, the sweetest dream! Eh! Our plans for the journey, do you remember? Oh, your letter! your letter! it tore my heart! And then when I come back to him -- to him, rich, happy, free -- to implore the help the first stranger would give, a suppliant, and bringing back to him all my tenderness, he repulses me because it would cost him three thousand francs!"
-- Madam Bovary, Gustave Flaubert, translated by Eleanor Marx, p. 221; original published in 1856, translation published in 1886. Dover Editions. No, Nogo, I'm sorry but I can't bring myself to use NoodleBib at the moment.

Damn it all. She dies a few pages later. I don't want to be like her!

Let it go, let it go, let it go, let it go, let it go...

I keep wondering...

...if I'm depressed. I really, really don't know if I am. Sometimes, I feel like I'm too happy to be considered depressed. But... there are a lot of times when I feel hopeless... I don't know whether it's because this is the most hectic summer of my life (hectic year of my life, no doubt) and it's a lot to be going through.

Let it go
Let it go
Let it go
Let it go
"what is done is done
what is not done is not done
let it go like the wind" -- Sonia Sanchez

I keep trying to let go but the more I try the more nothing makes sense. I spend my time at night waiting to go to sleep writing letters in my head. They all sound the same, they're all whiny, they're all predictable, they're all stupid. I've been through this before -- different person, different letter. Except that time, I sent a letter and got a letter back. This time, I'd be the one sending the message.

I don't even know where I am, where I stand half the time. I keep brushing my dolls' hair and dressing them up and wishing I was as glamorous as they are. They stare at me, eyes unblinking, donning almost-smiles in the shape of pouts. Am I really such a bad person? Then again, am I really such a good one? What has happened to my potential? Do I even have potential?

All around me are feelings of doubt. I can never shake the feeling that I'm stupid or not good enough, no matter what anybody tells me. Something won't let me believe them. I don't know why. It's all sort of scary and I don't understand any of it. Please, let it all just be a phase. Let it be a phase.

Hopefully I'm just a fucked-up teenager (first time I've ever really used that phrase -- apologies for language, it's not really my style) and that's all there is to it.

Weeks gets weirder.

I am beginning to realise just how cool Hegla G. Pataki really is/was. Hey Arnold is something I miss but I always related to her (hm, I wonder why). At her age, she should be in college by now. Perhaps she even already graduated from college. I suppose she'll be a famous writer. Maybe Arnold loves her. That was probably one of the greatest unrequited loves I've ever seen, sad as it was.

Tuesday was quite brilliant and quite cold. It rained a lot -- I am talking about Thor weeping so much that the rain was the sort that could hurt a person -- and in the heat (freeze?) of the moment I went outside in my nightshirt and danced about in the rain. While doing this, it struck me that perhaps I am a masochist of sorts. My mother has suggested it before. It was cold and wonderful and I suggest that you do it sometime in the near future -- preferentially when there is a shower in easy access and nice, clean, dry clothes waiting for you as soon as you finish that shower. Oh, and towels. Towels are wonderful inventions. I wonder who invented the towel. According to Wikipedia, towels were invented in Bursa, Turkey. However, Wikipedia's supposed to be an unreliable source, so I'm going to say Douglas Adams invented the towel. (I can't believe Wikipedia has a section on the history of the towel. My life must be getting really sad if I'm looking that sort of stuff up.) It would make sense if he invented it, yes?

Anyway. Tuesday was cool cause we went to the drive-in (yay) to see Transformers 2 (okay seriously that was a sucky movie and I gained nothing from it other than I am nowhere near curvaceous or brunette enough to force Shia Labeouf into a relationship with me... and that robots get brought back to life with pixie dust after they partially destroy Egypt). It was a fun experience. Jean thought that a local Valu was a McDonalds (not going to let him live that down) and it was fun waving at Monisha, Alyssa and Jiyoon while they were all in Monisha's cute little Beetle. (Her car is so cute! I wrote "cat" instead of car. My God, I must be addled with cat fur. It's like a drug.)

I honestly can't remember what happened Wednesday, other than I wrote a rather long letter to somebody that I'm debating on sending. The whole point of writing it was so that they can understand me and my motives better. (There I go with my pronoun-verb... subject-verb?... disagreement. Mrs Derrico would shake her head at me right now if she saw the grammatical errors I was making.) Yet I fear anger, a nuclear fall-out... oh, what the hell, send it anyway. What's the worst that could happen? No, seriously.

On Thursday, we dropped by to see Brenda. It was so good to see her. I think it did a wonder for my mother because she looked more like herself again afterwards.

And on Friday I fell asleep after writing this entry. Oh, wait, it's Saturday. I'm so useless these days.

Edit. I can't leave an entry so uselessly hanging like that, even if nobody ever really uses or reads my Xanga these days. There is more to it! There is more to it!

Friday was cool because it was Betsy's grad party and we ate food and failed at playing volleyball and blew bubbles (really must thank Monisha for those bubbles) and we also went to see Ice Age 3, which was a surprisingly good sequel for a sequel. It also had Simon Pegg voicing a weasel which was soooo cool. (Josh Peck's voice was in there too and Josh Peck is really good-looking these days since he slimmed up and got taller. Mmmmm. Perhaps I won't get married because a husband will be like, "Why are you drooling over all these other men?" Please let it only be a phase. Then again, I'm not so sure if I want to get married.)

I also watched The Bourne Identity yesterday and it was quite good, although I must have fallen asleep because I don't remember the ending.

Really, I am so lame these days but I don't know what else to do. I crave pasta.

Gosh, that was quite a lot.

This week was insane.

Last Sunday: Saw Macbeth at the Kentucky Shakespeare Festival. (There was a pretty cute guy in the production but he didn't go out in the audience to beg for money so I couldn't try any lame Shakespearian pickup lines on him. Not that I have any.)
Monday-Tuesday: Orientation.
Wednesday: Two hours of unpaid work at Microbac (which Anita and Laura were quite grateful for) and then I flew home to Buffalo.
Thursday: Last ever guitar lesson at the studio. John is leaving to start his own; hopefully I get to take one or two lessons there. While we were leaving, I saw a rainbow. It was beautiful and HUGE.
Friday: Graduation rehearsal and two grad parties (Kevin's and Monisha's). Fun night of driving around and stuff.
Saturday: I saw Kristina for the first time in seven years. She hasn't changed a bit (except I'm now taller than she is, which is bizarre). We talked and talked and talked the entire time. Surely if there were ever sisters separated at birth by having different mothers, it was us two. (This is especially true [is it?] because I was born to British ex-pats and Kristina was adopted from Guatemala. We were so close and it was so great to see her. Words cannot express how wonderful it was to see her. They really can't.) Six glorious hours with Kristina and it was amazing.
Sunday: I graduated from high school. Dad couldn't go, but really, it's not that big of a deal. I'd rather have him come to my college graduation than to my high school graduation. What does high school really matter as in the grand scheme of things?

My days have been full of Wimbledon-watching and Murray-stalking. Worrying. Lots of worrying. My summer this year is six weeks long. In those six weeks, my family is going to move house to a different state for good and attempt to go to England. And I've got to prep for my first year of college. Perhaps I shouldn't be dorming. There is always the bus...

Graduation was long and samey. Afterwards, though, we got to hang out with Sari and Alex's family for a bit. They're really lovely people. My mother loves their family, as do I. They're just so interesting and nice. Got lots of hugs (Betsy's parents, a bajllion different friends, Emmanuelle, Doc), a phone call from my father to say he was sorry for missing it. He really didn't miss much, though. The speeches all sounded the same and Marie and I sang along with "Peace Jubilee" when they played it at the end, being the former band geeks that we are.

I can't let it go. Occasionally, I think I am somewhat depressed. Other times, I think I must be in love in some way. Unwritten letters are the way to go.

This morning, I realised what my biggest fear is. It is not spiders. It is not change. It is not rejection. It is being forgotten. (Simplistic sentence structure/Hemingway much? Ewwwww.) More than anything, I have a desire to be remembered. I don't know how I will do it. I am a small person in a large world in an even larger universe. Does anything I do even matter? Does it really? Will it? What am I going to do with my life? I want to be remembered in some positive way. I don't know how I will. I can't even remember myself in a positive way all the time. I stare at myself in the mirror and I find the person staring back at me very, very strange. Very is a weak adjective, Mr Kryder; look, I remember one of the things you taught me. I don't care, though. It's all just so strange.

I don't think I am doing so well with change. Change in the White House? Yes, yes, yes. (Which reminds me, Kristina is the president of the Democrat club at her school. She even got to see Obama AND Clinton speak! So jealous.) Change in my life... maybe not so much.

I have issues. I'm fairly certain of that.