Tuesday, July 20

Mea Culpa

I have been informed, by someone that I love desperately and who loves me, that I may have been an idiot when I wrote the blog below. Who knew? Apparently everyone except me.

I do not take back anything that I said. It is all true. I will not try to soften the violence of the post, because that was the way that I felt. If you think any less of me for reading this post, then I deserve it. However, if I have hurt anyone with what I wrote, I am now groveling in apology and begging you to forgive me and promising over and over that I did not mean it.

I did not realise that what I lashed out in hurt would hurt anyone else. I was under the (apparently mistaken) idea that a written note would be far less hurtful and confrontational than a speech. I still believe that I would not have been as clear, nor would have gotten people's attention as well, if I had tried to voice my hurt in person, but I did not mean to actually hurt anyone else. If I have, you can come punch me in the face.

I would also like to clarify a few things:

1) I will enjoy Rome. There are so many things that are much more important to me now, and I am so stressed and confused that I wish rather heartily that I am not going, but since I am, I will make the most of it.

2) I love you all. If you were actually thinking those things (I know some of you were) then do not feel like I love you any less, because I don't. I tend to keep things that hurt me to myself, so they fester and just make me miserable if they are bad enough to stick around. I am trying to prevent that from happening by voicing things and maybe resolving them, but I don't have much practice. Pity my pathetic communication skills. I had (have) valid points, but a  bad method of letting you know.

3) If you were one of the few people who were not hurt, saw that I was, and reached out to comfort me, thankyou, thankyou, thankyou. I really needed, and appreciated, that. I cannot tell you how much it meant to me. Thanks.

~Maria

Sunday, July 11

Warning: Extremely Angry, Ranting Post

There are two things that I would very much like to scream right now. One is easy to understand, the other is not. Here is the first one:

I DO NOT THINK TOO MUCH!

Thinking is like seeing. I may not like what I see, but that does not mean I should not have looked in the first place. I may stare at one thing more than others, but that does not mean that I am looking too much, but too little. Most importantly, just because other people do not depend on their eyes as much as I do does not mean that my dependence is bad.

I DO NOT THINK TOO MUCH!

It hurts because I usually get "you think too much" when something is really bothering me, and all it means is that it is my fault for being upset because normal people don't think about that kind of thing, or care. So I'm abnormal, and it's my own fault.


The other thing that I want to scream about will take some explanation. I am absolutely raging furious about this. I am stomping through the earth's crust hopping mad, and it is not because of what I want to yell, but because of your reaction.

It will be a knee-jerk reaction of pity for my short-sighted feelings. It will be a sudden feeling of superiority and "well, she will realise how stupid she is being when she gets older." It will be a completely unthinking, and therefore moronic, urge to tell me that I am wrong. Here goes.

I DO NOT WANT TO GO TO ROME!

There! You see? Squelch that immediately! Stop looking at me that way or get off my blog! STOP LAUGHING! If I could get in your face and scream until you saw that I really meant it, I... still wouldn't. I am too nice. I would cry, and you would leave the room thinking that I was being a baby and that I will get over it. This is why I want to scream right now.

I DO NOT WANT TO GO TO ROME!

You know what I wanted to do this summer? I wanted to take a class in oil painting at the community college. I wanted to volunteer in youth ministry, and find out where I could get involved with foster care or child services. I couldn't because I was working too hard to pay for this darn trip.

I want to be independent. I want to have my own place, and buy art, and take dance classes, and have a dog. I want to travel, but to linger where I want, and talk to people, and see things that interest me (which usually means that it doesn't interest other people) and have the time to find an interesting job, and BE HAPPY. There are actual people with actual problems that I would like to do something about. Hey, I might even have not gone to college at all this fall, and- DON'T YOU DARE! DON'T YOU DARE SAY SOMETHING WITHOUT THINKING OR I WILL PUNCH YOU IN THE FACE THROUGH THIS COMPUTER SCREEN!

College is an expensive and powerful tool, that should only be used when the job calls for it, and when the worker has the time and attention to make sure that it is being used properly. Right now, it is not being used properly at all. I hate it.

No. I will not feel differently later. This is not a fad. I have hated it for the past two years. Three years ago, I stuck to something that I hated and I have yet to look back and say I was glad that I did. DO. NOT. TELL. ME. THAT. I. AM. BEING. STUPID. OR. EMOTIONAL. I don't even like the fields I am majoring in, and do not plan to get a job with them.

I DON'T WANT TO GO TO ROME!

Rome is a splendid place. In fact, I've been there. (if only long enough to discover that it looks exactly like to pictures) I would love to travel there, and absorb the atmosphere and the culture, and revel in being in the Eternal City, but not now! Not during college! Not without knowing the language! It is not what I want to do right now, not even in the top 20, for goodness sake, and it will take me years, money and confusion away from the things that I DO want.

YOU ARE STILL THINKING THINGS THAT ARE MAKING ME FURIOUS!

This is not some great opportunity. Italy is no better than America, and not the only place with history and beauty. Italy is not going to suddenly close its borders, or airplanes suddenly stop flying. If you think I am being stupid, and that this chance is akin to winning the lottery, and that I would be turning down the equivalent of touching Elvis, getting a free Ferrari, and being declared queen for three months (none of which I actually want), YOU go. There is no excuse for you STILL BEING HERE that you could bring up that I could not match. And me going will keep me from plenty of things that would give me much more pleasure than the gracious permission to throw pennies in the Fount de Trevi.

I really don't want to go. I will, though. And then I will finish the school year. And then I will finish college because I will be a senior. And then it will be two years later from today and I have no guarantee that I will be any happier, though I do guarantee that I will be older and in debt.

People will tell me that I am being ridiculous if I complain because everyone has debt and hardly anyone knows what they are doing when the finish college. Yay. I'm jumping off cliffs, but everyone else is doing it, so it must be all right.

DON'T YOU DARE TELL ME I AM THINKING TOO MUCH!

Winston

Well, I am duly disappointed in myself for neglecting to shower this blog with brilliance, but several occasions, plans and activities in my real life have pushed documenting them to the background. One of these distractions is my new friend, Wilson, who is currently living with me.

I know he is a bit lacking in certain areas, but he listens more than he speaks, which is a fine quality in anyone.


(I do have to admit that it is a little embarrassing how well he fits my running shorts. )

Anyway, I do not know if you can tell from the picture, but he has a very strange texture that I found impossible to work with, so, naturally, I covered him in toilet paper.


This surprisingly effective paper-mache technique has given him a little bit of class, but I must confess myself not entirely sure of what is going to happen to him next. I have a few ideas, but none of them are perfect... I will, of course, keep you "posted."

~Maria