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JStudink
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Name: Jessica
Country: United States
State: Texas
Metro: Austin
Gender: Female
Interests: the world, music, smoking, playing outside.
Expertise: you can count on me to fail
Occupation: Retired
Industry: Hospitality
Message: message me
Member Since:
12/5/2004
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| Dear Xanga, I'm leaving. Things are different now than they used to be. I've changed. My needs have changed. They just aren't met any more with what you have to offer me. My job is taking me away from you. I'm sorry. It's not you, it's me. But you can still come visit me any time- even add me to your favorites and pray for me as often as you like. I'll miss you. -Jessica Much more importantly- news today shows that Illinois' Senator, Barak Obama, has indeed declared he will be running for the Democratic candidacy in the next presidential election. I couldn't be happier. I need to figure out how international absentee voting works. | | |
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So I was telling my friend Jade about times when we'd go visit distant family when I was a little girl. Aunts, cousins, second cousins, great uncles, great grandparents.... The general time I'm remembering was when I was probably somewhere between 3 and 5. When we would leave from visiting whoever we had visited, everyone would say their good-bye's: my mom would hug everyone, my dad would hug everyone, my brother would hug everyone and I would hug everyone...and sometimes someone would say to me, "i love you." I always dreaded this part. In my few short years of living, I had not yet developed a social understanding that, out of politeness, the only appropriate way to respond is with "i love you, too." I most certainly did have an opinion though. Yes, I did. I knew very well what it meant to have love for someone and I knew it was special and not just for anyone. I recognized that I had only seen these people two or maybe three times in my life and I clearly did not know them and certainly not well enough to say that I loved them. So, because my parents raised me to be kind and respectful, I didn't want to hurt their feeling and I had a sincere gratitude, so when they told me, "i love you," I always said "thank you." I thought this was acceptable.
I totally didn't get it one day when my mom told me that I was being rude and had probably hurt their feelings. I truly felt awful. She told me that I needed to tell them that I loved them in order to keep from hurting their feelings, so I did. But truth be told, I didn't love them. Not then, anyway. But I wish I had told my mom that. I wish I had had the communicative ability to explain my rational and well thought out three-year-old reasons. To me it lessened the idea of what love meant to me. It was like it became cheaper, now that those words could be for anyone. I know that seems very deep for a little kid hardly out of diapers, but I promise I remember thinking these things. And by the way- I do love those same family members now, and very much so.
When I told Jade this story, she laughed- telling me that I haven't changed at all:
I still understand what a dear and beautiful thing having love for a friend is, and I would still rather be honest with myself and everyone and potentially hurt some feelings, but I won't fake it.
Isn't that right, Jade.
I thought that made me sound like a bitch. And it kinda does. But I think I'm okay with that.
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| It's cold. This cigarette doesn't really warm me. Maybe when it gets closer to the filter. Camel Light- Turkish Domestic Blend. An attempt at something glamorous when it clearly is not. Why did I ever even start smoking? Don't get me wrong, I'm not a "smoker," not a-pack-a-day-er or anything. I'm too health conscious for that. But not so health conscious that I don't smoke occasionally. I'm pretty sure it started as an attempt to be cooler than I was. We do a lot of things with the motive of trying to be cooler than we are. I mean Americans. I can't speak to other cultures, although I do think the phenomenon is probably worldwide- or at least among developed nations. Maybe.
It was because of a crush I'm pretty sure. The smoking, that is. He was very attractive, and cooler than about everyone I had known so far in my days of youth group and concert choir. -ha ha. Anyway, the guy was impressed with the smoking and we became friends. But he turned out to be not nearly as cool as he looked. I hate that. It's a whole lot easier to seem cool than to actually be cool and this can be very deceiving. And he was. It took me two years to realize just how much his looks and apparent cool didn't cover up his uncoolness.
If you're looking to find a cool person -and I don't mean in order to hang out with cool people to make you appear cooler, those of you trying to boost your cool-by-association status- but if you're really wanting to be friends with someone cool, I recommend searching for someone very unassuming looking. You sort of have to go the opposite direction- going up to get down and vice versa. Plainness is a good indicator. Expensive clothes and an awesome haircut are not.
I know two truly cool people and neither one of them give a shit about looking cool according to the standards of their peers. And they are some of the only cool people I know. And they are pretty damn cool. And they both smoke.
So I guess the moral of the story is only smoke if you're really trying to be unhealthy, but only try to be unhealthy if you're not trying to be cool. Then you'll really be cool.
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| Yesterday I awoke to Justin's phone call. We talked nearly all morning. It was marvelous. I couldn't have asked for a better start to my day. Monday I found out that I will be leaving directly from Virginia. No two week break to come home and pack and say good-bye like I had thought. Now I just need to take care of all that before February 5. It was more than a little dissapointing at first, but, as was necessary, I got over it. If I can't adapt to a small unmet expectation, how will I handle the stress that is to come? I can adapt. This big step in my future grows more ominous the nearer it becomes. pray, if you will. | | |
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