Adventure

Dear Leigh,

I'm sorry your adventures have been foiled. If that camping trip doesn't take shape, you should take matters into your own hands and just DO something. Maybe the Captain will come along if he knows you're going no matter what.

Personally, I'm adventured out. Our wedding was just about perfect. I wish your family could have made it, but I'm happier knowing that your Dad didn't put himself through extra stress by traveling so far and that you were together as a family when you needed to be.

Back to the wedding, though... It reawakened whatever piety I possess and confirmed my belief that if you act as though something will go right, it will go right (and if it doesn't, at least you won't be so stressed along the way). There were many opportunities for the day to fall apart (in minor ways), yet it never did. Our B&B was disappointing for how much it cost, but we didn't really care. In fact, we'll probably go back again, just for sentimentality's sake. The water smelled like eggs, the floors were freezing, Jeremiah got champagne all over the kitchen, breakfast was kind of gross, and there was a compost bin under the sink...but it all is dear to me.

Our "honeymoon"...well, if I could take a mulligan, I would. I should've known Jeremiah wouldn't really take to cruising (though he loved dinners) and that going places I'd already been would lead to disappointment. They're not quite so magical when you're older and used to being in charge of how you get where you want to go. We had fun, nonetheless, and Jeremiah still wants to travel (thank goodness)...just to less tourist-centered places, perhaps. He mentioned an alaskan cruise...

So that brings me to the adventures of everyday life, which are many. We currently do not know for sure where we'll be next year (we might find out tomorrow), do not know whether I'll be able to find employment this summer, whether we'll be able to go to the beach... Jeremiah got into WVU's MFA program, but they haven't guaranteed him funding. They also haven't denied it. He's supposed to find out tomorrow where he is on the list of those being considered for funding...

I've applied for nearly 15 jobs already, and have investigated several more. My goal is 4 per week. I can get on the sub list for Floyd county schools but have yet to find opportunities in West Virginia... Our lease runs out July 1st, and I don't know if we'll be moving the week before or sooner or what. If we move, we'll need a new place to live, but I can't line that up when I don't know which town to look in... If we're moving to Morgantown I might just collect unemployment until I find a job there rather than begging someone to hire me for two months around here. I'll be able to pack up our stuff, at least.

Annnnd I defend on May 5th, graduate May 8th...

I'm ready for it all to be settled, and I'm frustrated that the schools I've applied to teach at haven't called me back. People HERE think I'm special...my capstone project has been nominated for a Chermside Award and I've been asked to read at graduation...but to other places I'm just another boring resume. I've called to follow-up on applications and the people who answer act as though I'm doing something completely inappropriate by calling with questions...

Every now and then I think "man, wouldn't it be nice if I could just move back home while I look for a job somewhere...eat my parents' food, live rent-free..." But I know I wouldn't be happy with that. Also, I've taken the adult step of marrying Jeremiah, so wherever I go he goes, and I would not take him to live with my parents. We should be able to make it on our own.

My philosophy right now is the same one I had approaching our wedding: believe it'll all work out. It keeps me from losing my mind. Can't wait until this particular bit of adventure is over, though...

On a completely different note: tomorrow is April 16th, and I have no idea what to do with myself. It's kind of disturbing how little I feel, considering how much I felt then. To go to campus or to not go to campus? To recognize the day or to sit inside and play videogames all afternoon? I've found a balance, I think...I'm heading to campus in the morning and leaving as soon as the insensitive younger folks make me angry enough. Then I'm having lunch with a friend of mine, who is the last remaining person here (apart from Andrew) who was actually with me on that day. Weirdly, I didn't know Jeremiah at all, yet... That's what I've been thinking of most, tonight: how much the landscape of my life has changed since then. That and how much I wish the underclassmen would disappear tomorrow so that we who were here can wander our campus in peace.

Anyway, I'll close for now. I could go on and on.

Love,

Kate

Sometimes I wish people would go away so I can do everything my way.

Dear Leigh,

This is a long one.

I'm feeling pretty uninspired, at the moment, but at the same time hopeful.  Could be the weather--very gray.  On the one hand, I'm upset because I just had to leave my cat with my parents for a couple of months due to the edict of J's roommate, who cannot stand messes of any kind, even if they are a tiny dot of poo that an excited feline left on the carpet after leaving the litterbox slightly prematurely...

I'm also frustrated that I cannot know precisely what is going to happen in the next six months or the next year and a half.  I'm only contracted for 9 months at a time, which leaves me lost for the three months of summer.  In addition, J is feeling that he doesn't like nor does he fit into the academic world (can't blame him; I'm starting to hate it), so he might not go to grad school for his mfa.  Which is fine with me, actually, except that I don't want to be in Blacksburg after I graduate, and if he doesn't get an assistantship somewhere I don't know where else we'll go.  I believe I've exhausted this town.  

On the other hand, I'm excited about the apartment J and I leased for next year (nice and quirky with 60s appliances and wood floors), I'm excited about finally getting to teach my own classes, and I'm excited about what I've come up with for my thesis.  Also, the possibilities opened up if J doesn't go to grad school make me a little giddy.  His point is that he's continually putting off living the way he wants to by saying "well, first I have to do ____."  So, why not just be brave and live the way we want to?  He's already got a bit of land that his granddad will give to him, and if we both get salaried jobs--even if they're just at sandwich shops--we could get a nice enough loan to create a home.

I guess that's really what I feel like I'm missing right now.  A home.  My belongings are split between two places, my cat is with my parents because I have to accommodate three different roommates (two of which will be newlyweds in a week and a day and already drive me nuts with all the wedding blah blah blah).  Thoreau says at the beginning (ish) of Walden, "At a certain season of our life we are accustomed to consider every spot as the possible site of a house," and when I read that for the first time a week ago I almost went "YES!" aloud.  I see every bit of land as a possible place that could be MINE, where I can have my cat and have my boyfriend and choose my own furniture and my own temperature and keep things clean and nice-smelling, where I can arrange my books attractively on my thrift-store shelves and put the mirror my Aunt made me above my little white desk to create a vanity, where I can keep my bathroom stuff IN THE BATHROOM and put the cat's litterbox somewhere away from where I hang out...*takes deep breath*...and where I can practice my violin without worrying about any roommate but J, who would probably play along with me, where I can have a corner for my easel and a corner for my comfy reading chair, where I can have my dishes without having to dig them out from under hundreds of my roommate's dishes, and where I can keep the table clear enough to have tea at in the afternoon when I get home from campus. 

Mostly, I can handle not being in control.  I'll admit that I'm generally a passive person.  When it comes to my space (or, next year, my classroom), however, I must have it my way, or I'll be unhappy.  I love your little house because it's so yours.  It suits the life you lead--what would you do with more rooms?  Why have cable if you're not into watching the crappy shows that are on it? (By the way, I'm considering living without cable next year, not only to save money but to keep myself from shows like "Real Housewives of Atlanta").  J just barely understands my discomfort, and my roommate doesn't understand it at all.  

My mom, on the other hand, understands perfectly just like she understands that I'm accommodating to a fault.  She's watched me nest my entire life--I used to bring photos of my family and my cat on trips and tape them up around wherever I slept.  Now, my only options of places to stay are: 1) an apartment overrun by my roommate's and her fiance's stuff where I feel uncomfortable watching the tv since it--and all the furniture--isn't mine and the couple is way more into their shows than I am, or 2) an apartment where I don't pay rent but where I'm allowed to nest and keep my clothes and books and pictures in J's room, where (until now) I could hang out with our cat, but where I feel guilty cooking or showering or existing and where there's a roommate so finicky about cleanliness that he cracked a window (it was 20 degrees outside) and left a cup of ammonia on the stove after J and I made popcorn the other day.

I'm so frustrated!  I need a place to call home.  

I can tie this into our discussion of technology, as well: just as each person (generally) has a physical space in which they feel comfortable and which needs to be respected, each person has a technological space in which they are comfortable and which needs to be respected.  I plan on extending mine to my classroom, since I consider that my space.  Once the students are out of my space, they can text while browsing the internet and listening to clangy music on their iDoEverythingButBrushYourTeeth[ThoughThat'sInDevelopment].  

I apologize for being so long-winded.  Repression isn't good for me, but I've had to become good at it to keep the various roommates happy.  2 months til freedom!

Technological Soapbox

Dear Kate,

Three months have passed since out last correspondence, well…since my last response! There truly are no excuses for my hiatus…
Writers Block: No. I just haven’t been writing
Laziness: No. I have been pretty busy
Too Busy: No. One can always find time.
The truth is, I just haven’t been writing! Sometimes I feel I can attribute it to a simple case of Burnout. Not from our letter writing, but perhaps my job. Or even sometimes my indecisiveness over what I want to “be when I grow up.” There is a transition waiting over the next hill in my life, and maybe it is an impatience for that next climb that keeps me from my writing and sets me in this rut of “burnout.”

I think some of this draining with my work stems from the same frustrations you experience in the classroom. I feel sometimes I bear an old-fashionedness that frustrates me towards the ageing younger generations (the rising high school kids in my case). The technology you refer to in your letter can certainly be to blame. You grumble that kids no longer read: why read when you can watch the movie or download the cliff notes? The internet caters so much to these kids, their teachers and leaders should be catering as well! Cell phones with texting dominate the lives of my teens. Yesterday I was at the beach and I saw a young girl walking along with her boyfriend. She was adorned in her bikini and carrying her cell phone in her hand. I wanted to ask: “why couldn’t you leave that device behind while you walked?” I have to force my kids to leave their cell phones in a “cell phone station” so they don’t text or call during my programs. Video games have replaced outdoor games. When I lead a retreat at our campsite, the kids want high tech: movies, power point, video games. I want to shake them and say: WE’RE OUT IN THE MIDDLE OF THE WOODS!! TV today jumps and flashes so much I realize there is no surprise that the kids cannot sit still for five minutes without something to artificially stimulate their minds.

I look at society today and see the distress of the economic times. This technology has somewhat lead to this need of bigger and better, brighter and flashier toys. Power Boats, Gaming Systems, Sports Cars and SUVs, Music Players, Internet Touch Phones. It is no wonder that these expensive habits are causing such grief when budgets become tighter. I know of kids who need to get a new game each year for their xBox or Wii…but those games aren’t cheap! Phone charges become more costly the more applications you need (unlimited text, unlimited minutes, unlimited internet). Gas prices…need I say more.

Again I say maybe I am old fashioned. I do not have cable, internet, more than one car, or too fancy a phone. I do have a garden, some books, a radio, and an imagination. I cannot tell you how many friends (and family) have commented on their desire NOT to come to my house because I don’t have a TV to entertain. I didn’t realize sitting the back yard chatting and stargazing wasn’t entertaining. Nor did I know people don’t like listening to original music on NPR. Also, I have heard that my house it too small (Do I really need more space? It’s just more I’d have to CLEAN!) I have a friend who actually tried to convince me to buy HER house so she could buy a bigger one for her and her husband. Do two people really need all that space? I don’t have that much stuff…and I have come to realize that when I do become crowded in my small house, it may be time to consolidate!

Having read over the past few paragraphs, I feel I have become my “Father’s Daughter.” We two can be quite the grumblers. As I get these grumbles out of my system…I feel a need to defend technology. I do own a cell phone. I do like to blog and email. But I don’t let those things run my life. I am thankful for the life I have. It is a life suited for me. I respect that others may not like my lifestyle, but it’s ok…that is why it is MY life. No one can tell me how to exist much less than I can insist another live like me. I have my faults, and yet, here I am throwing the first stone. So to turn this whole letter from a grumble to productive verbiage: I work hard to try to throw my simplistic way of life into the whirlwind of technological living in which my kids have been raised. Rather than force myself or others to accept one way of life over another, I would rather stress the need to adapt: keeping one’s own identity, hoping it may rub off or mesh with the next generation.

I know this does not help much in the gist of your letter…I just decided to hop upon my trusty soapbox and go to town. Again, accept my apologies for my hiatus, and know I will do better at keeping up my end of the conversation!!



Paix, ma cousine,

Leigh

Be Afraid, be Very Afraid

Dear Kate,

It’s interesting how swiftly and busily a summer can go… for you and me. For me, summer’s are filled with work and trips and overnight events which leave me either away from a computer or simply not in a desire to keep up with the blogging network.

But my summers have been filled with youth trips and stress and dogs! So tonight I write you in a sense of a continuation to our last posting… the interesting issues of family dynamics and in the new ideas relating to the summer of the “traveling pant-suit.”

The doc and I are no longer together for reasons I’d rather not digest over this blog. So I am again free to my independence. However, my self-sufficiency is only a coveted situation on some aspects, like those revolving around not having to deal with other's drama. Or, when my house is a mess, it is the fault of my own hand and the twelve paws of the dogs which are my children. Yet, financially, I hurt, and emotionally, I am alone. Often, I fear the later one more than the former.

And that brings me to my complaints, though I wish not to make this sharing of ideas a column for the pity party of one, staring me. I hope that what I stress in this, our first letter after a summer hiatus, be a note of understanding behind my own traveling pant-suit of one.

One of my final trips was a personal trip to St. Louis. This trip was a supposed vacation involving only the four in my family, my brother and I, my mom and dad. All went well, though I was expected to, and gladly accepted to, act the responsible one during my brother’s shenanigans. We would go out each night, despite my weariness, and stay till the crack of dawn. My brother would party hardy with long lost friends, and I would sip beer, and enjoy the occasional conversation from mutual friendships…gained through my days as designated “get the boy home safe” driver. Our first night we arrived home at 4:30 in the a.m. with parents grumbling- to be expected. I would have rather walked in with enough time to rest and get a good sleep before awaking in the early hours to spend a supposedly event filled day with the folks. Plans had been made, and sadly adjusted to compensate for my brothers hangover. I think, and perhaps am wrong in believing so, that my parents would have been more disappointed had that been me needing the day’s recovery in the dark and cold basement. But the next night, the parental unit stayed out until the wee hours, needing the last full day of our trip for some recovery. Interesting how that works.

And don’t get me started on my feelings after I actually made it to “mass” with the parents: yes me, the “pagan” youth director… I wondered silently as my parents filed up for Eucharist, if they would have been more upset had I partaken, or if they were upset because I had made the decision not to follow their ritual… I really don't know why when I go to my parents, my "pant-suit" is stripped away and replaced with toddler pants. Like my responsible pushing thrity being is really an irresponsible pushing twenty aura.

Now the scary part, the part where I do often feel more like a Hilary, than a simple me. I’ll clarify quickly by saying, though I admire Hilary Clinton for her ideas, I shudder at her ability to stand up to opposing crowds and male-full jeers as she empowers the female race. I am not as stand up as she, though I do act in opposition to the female being viewed as the “weaker sex.”

Tonight I sat up at my bar with “Matt,” “Em,” and “Ray.” Em and Ray are married and in a sense help out Matt when needed. Matt is a great friend of mine, and has helped me in as many tough times as I hope to have helped him. There we sat, discussing this impending storm, and I hear a bartender friend offer his home, should Matt need a place to run. This bothered me to no question, and I haven’t a straight answer as to why? My home too is in a flood zone. Should a storm come this direction, I too have to leave. I am alone. I have three dogs and a cat. And though I know my “children” are part of the reason I have not had the sincere offers of evacuation sanctuary, I also somehow think I put off a beacon of such independence that friends either think I have someone to take care of me, or they think I am already taking care of myself.

I don’t know. The point of this letter revolves around a thought of the independent female. Do we put off such a light that others are afraid to offer comfort to us when we are in times of need, or do we put off a sense that we are already taken care of? In other thoughts, do we act as if we are repulsed by the idea of another’s offering of a helping hand?

I myself admit that I cannot live life alone. I also admit that I am so damn independent that I tend to fail at relationships. But in times of crisis, I still need a friend. I still need help, just as my MALE friend Matt at the bar.

Much love, but please, don’t mistake my words for bitterness…

Ta Cousine,
Leigh

Sheepish because of her tardy response, yet eager to share...

Dear Leigh,

I'm sorry that it's been two posts since a response from me.  Between graduating, visiting home, and giving my friend Laura the time with me that she deserves, I haven't been too close to my computer too often.

I can relate to the feeling of sort of...not being allowed to enjoy happiness newly found.  For the first couple months with J, I thought the whole world was golden, turning just to make us happy.  It certainly seemed that way, and everyone around us seemed to be just as happy with our relationship as we were.  Once I started hearing complaints, however, our joy felt tainted...

It hurts to feel as though others don't see something that makes you happy as the wonderful thing that you know it is.   It's hard to be more discreet with a relationship that just seems to fit and makes you want to announce to everyone how happy you are, and it's definitely difficult to move forward when former relationships (or non-relationships, as in my case), insist on stepping on the back of your shoes.

I've decided that, in time, my friends will come to appreciate this contentment I've found with another after so many unfortunate others and realize that, if maybe they don't see me as much or see me as much by myself, it's worth it because of how happy I am.  This is kind of a selfish line of thinking, on my part, but I like to believe that, if something came along that gave one of my close friends great joy at the cost of spending some time with me, I'd be able to welcome that thing (whether it's a person or job or hobby) because of its value to my friend.

My point in all of that talking about me is to come back to you and say that once the kids are used to the idea of you and your doctor and once your employer sees that the relationship is not something casual or sinful but something that brings you joy, they'll calm down and you can openly enjoy the happiness you deserve.  As for the marine...that's a wrench that will undoubtedly be difficult to handle, but time is an amazing healer...

Looking forward to the beach, we can both take comfort in the fact that we have a great family that seems to be only happy if we've found something or someone that makes us happy.  My parents think J is great, and you said your parents and brother like your doctor.  I can't help but feel that they'll integrate well with the rest of the family, and that there you can relax and just enjoy sharing the doctor with everyone, away from rumors and suggested discretion.

Much love and compassion...

Sincerely,

Kate

Rain on my Parade

Dear Kate

I am extremely frustrated. I wrote recently about the joy in my life and how it can completely deter inspiration for writing. It feels now, in a sense, kind of a joke because here I sit, upset and frustrated, feeling almost hypocritical to my own thoughts posted just days ago.

I returned from a great respite trip to the mountains. The Smokie’s which surround Ashville have such an intoxicating, contagious tranquility, soothing my anxious spirit. I returned home to an amazing embrace from a wonderful man; home to tails wagging so ferociously that butt’s were hardly able to contain the unbound joy of a “herd” welcoming me home. Smiles radiated from all direction. I never felt so good coming home.

Then, a few days pass…barely. I feel I’ve been home much longer than the few actual days. Last night I was awake, feeling wretched, sleep not willing to join me on the couch, instead misery keeping company. It sucked.

Imagine the face of a child, pure in elation over the extravagant mud pie he lovingly made for his mother, only to have that joy obliterated because mom cannot see past the mud stains on clean trousers? This is certainly hypothetical, but really, that is how I feel suddenly. Like here I am, full of joy from my return, only to have the reality of life smite me like a judge criticizing a piece one has worked hard preparing and performing.

The kids continue their ugly gossip and rumor spreading. When they speak of other youth, their words are poison, their nonchalant attitude breaking my heart. And some still rumble about my new relationship…I ran into a kid while the doc and I were grocery shopping, and have now been told by the “boss” to be “discreet” with my relationship. Um. Since when was grocery shopping a sign that I am living a life of “sin”? That’s it I suppose, no more public outings. Then of course, there is the marine. It kills me the anger in his spirit. Yet I am certainly not strong enough to stay away from him. I hurt for his hurt.

I guess am that sensitive.
Why must there be so much pain, sadness, anger, hostility, vengeance and misery in the world? Then the news opens with reports of China and Burma. It kills me, it really does. Cuz, last night I sat on my couch at two in the morning with tears rolling down my face. I believe it hurts more when your spirit wants to shine out joy, but the world, both close at hand, and oceans away, insists on smudging out that glow with gloom.
It really kills me.

Family

Dear Kate,

I’m glad to hear your day went well. Not celebratory, but not depressing either…a nice mediocre kind of day. I think those are my favorite: days where you don’t need to think about too much heavy stuff and really have no energy for joyous stuff. And two: the fact of that anniversary being not on the front of your brain is probably a benefit. Too often we get so wrapped up in the melancholy that we lose sight of the good… like two month anniversaries with our new found beaus.

But a new stress evolves from this: family reactions and relations. I like to think my brother and I are very close. I have seen interactions between other sets of siblings, and realize that our own relationship still lacks. We do not offer the “I love you’s” with frequency, and hugs involve too much touch. Do I believe we have a poor relationship? Naw.

Let me tell you briefly about little brother. After Matt’s death, we were pretty much separated. Daddy and Michael moved to St. Louis, mom hung out behind with me until I graduated high school. Mike had his life up north, I had mine down south. I got married, Michael got married. Even though he lived with me portions of that timeframe, I still never really felt much closeness with him. I actually felt closer with his wife.

So, Michael got divorced. I got divorced. I resented him for his, as I think he resented me for mine.

Then, I am not sure how it happened. One day we started talking. One day we started forming this bond. One day we became more than just a brother and sister in name, but in relationship. It was weird. Evolving from this was the code: Family First. I helped him move to Mobile, I supported his move to Crestview. I was and still am there for him when he has girl trouble. I would still stand up to anyone who crossed my brother for malice. In the same way I trust he would do for me.

Yet we are not perfect. We don’t always see eye to eye, and his “Pity Party’s of One” grow old really quick. Though if I ever discovered he were in town without my knowing, I would be pissed. If I sent him a gift, I think I would expect an expression of thanks… it is simply good form. When crisis happens, I would demand my brother’s attention for good will, rather than a job perk.

So I guess I am slightly upset with your brother and his hiatus, because I feel the same as you when my brother pulls that crap.

But I am also missing his side of the story, therefore do not feel justified to pass judgment. I do not think you are overlooking this relationship gap. I think you two need to find a bridge to cover that space, forming a familial relationship you need. Some simple you and John time. Perhaps express to him some of your transgressions without getting all sappy dappy. Call to check on him more often, without being obsessive. Open up lines of communication… I think he will respond. He may think awkwardness at first, but I believe he will come to his senses.

Perhaps during beach week, we can do a sibling outing, leaving the beau’s at home with the rest of the family… scary, but I’m strangely comfortable with it.