I just want to be okay.

I've lost my footing. It's been too long since I've seen Polaris and known my way.

Where am I going? What am I doing? There's nothing after June, until the possibility of Florida.

A year. Of nothing. I've never had a year of nothing, and it's terrifying.

I don't want to go into the menial, underpaid workforce and scrape by at (if I'm lucky) $10 an hour. I'd probably work two jobs, moonlighting at a smut shop or gas station.

I'd always be tired, and perpetually unhappy. 7 years of school...years and years of sacrifice, lack of sleep, 70 hour weeks and endless budgets, to end up with 20K in school loan debt and no immediate way to start alleviating it.

Just thinking about it makes me shut down. Become apathetic. Part of what always keeps me going is knowing that there's something more to do, someone I need to be there for, but the concept of having so much on my shoulders and not really doing something productive to relieve it is mind numbing.

I need to find something and go for it, aggressively. Even if it is only for 12 months.

I don't want to be apathetic. I want to have hope for a bright future, even if it's unrealistic.

Guh, if I didn't have a fuckin' flake of a roommate, I could be getting a tattoo soon, and I know that would make me feel better. Getting something permanent grounds me, spiritually, and when I'm adrift like I am now, I'm in need of an anchor.

An anchor that allows my heart to fly. Funny how that's usually how it works, isn't it?

love letter.

Dear you,

Today, I've been seeing an outpouring of love that I know is there everyday, but is vocalized vehemently during February 14.

You are my friend. You read this, and your motivations are your own, but I know that the consideration in which you respond to me speaks volumes of your nature.

You handle me with grace, dignity, and a level of wisdom that I am blessed with being able to witness. You don't scorn my petty emotions, make me feel more ridiculous than I know I'm being, or belittle my opinions. If anything, you indulge them, understanding that I will come to the same logical conclusion as you at the end of my rant. And yet, you give me nuggets of wisdom from your life experiences, empathize with my weaknesses, allow me to be.

This is more than I ever hoped to have from anyone.

So this is my outpouring of love to you. Thank you for all that you do. I see it, and I know it for the gift it is, even if I don't always say it.

I see you, and I love you.

thoughts on couples.

Ugh.

Maybe it's just that the epitome of commercial condescension to single people is coming up in a few days (Valentines Day, for those of you who don't get it), or that literally almost of my friends are in relationships or married, or that biologically right now I'm inclined to NOT be single and want to start the whole life nesting-settling down bullshit...whatever. Whatever the reason, I'm anghsty.

And slightly angry. So I warn you: not going to be a happy post.

I hate that I'm now left out of functions with my friends because they're doing things with their other friends who are exclusively couples and because I'm single, I'm not invited. I hate that if I go out on a date, or someone approaches me and starts a conversation, they inevitably ask at some point: "So why is a cool/rad/smart [insert cheesy adjectives here] chick like you single?" How the fuck should I know? You won't call, so answer your own goddamn question at the end of this conversation.

I even hate that I'm using the word hate, but I do. I HATE it. Not loathe. Not dislike. Hate.

Valentine's Day is shit. I gotta say, if I ever get into a relationship, I really hope we do nothing special on February 14th. If you feel the need to give me something pretty, buy it on sale and give it to me after I worked a hard day and make you a superb dinner or something. Hell. Fuck the concept of cupid. Shoot me in the head. GAH.

And let me also say, it gets really old being one of the last single people in the mid-20 scene. Half the time (and yes, people actually say this, it's not just my perception) women will actually say, "Wow, at this rate, you're not going to get married or anything until after you're 30."

Yes, I'm aware. And who gives a shit?! What's so wrong with that? I'll (probably) have a Ph.D. by then! A Master's, at the very least, and probably no debt! Well, that's the goal.

So WHAT if I'm not busting out babies before I'm 30? So WHAT if I'm not married?

Fuck fuck fuck.

And feeling generally belittled by society is only exacerbated by the fact that everyone is happy/loving/you and me!/I lovvvve her (him) more than anything! crap. Don't get me wrong.. mazeltov to you for finding your significant other and being happy, but really, does it take over your life and suck away your personality?

The two biggest exception to this are Milla and Kathleen (Coley, I never knew you before, and you and Loren are badass together). You guys have let your relationships enrich you without having it change and morph our friendships in the negative. I know your guys, and love 'em, but I don't have to see them everytime I see you. Amazing.

I know, I'm a huge whiner. But I don't care right now. Today has been stressful, and this is how it's manifesting itself, so I'm venting.

And I'm well aware that part of why I feel this way is a latent envy. Not because of Valentines Day.. that's imaginary.. but because I'm semi-lonely and feel more than capable of being in a healthy and balanced relationship. And it's definitely exacerbated when I see immature, shitty people (usually chicks, it's true) with good guys. WTF? Please don't reproduce. But I can't find someone decent? Who has a goal? Isn't a loser? REALLY?!

I'm ready, universe, all venting aside. Be decent.

I'm going to go back to watching Gene Kelly. I feel like all my negative juju for the day has been thoroughly expelled. Yay.

word vomit.

People are so intense, and it's a really trippy thing. I need to remember that 90% of how a person treats you has nothing to do with me, which is completely against what society trains you to think.

Society: as early as you are around people and modifying behavior (don't do that, it's not fair; yes, share, et cetera) and not taught as a means to becoming a better or good person, necessarily, but so that the people you're interacting with like you. And that implies that how they treat you is directly correlated to your behavior. We get this our entire life, and yeah, a small percentage of how they treat you is because of how you're acting, but the rest is completely rooted in who they are. Trippy. You don't get that until you're older, and realize that the way you're treating someone has little to do with what they're espousing or their actions, rather with how your day went, how you're feeling, your stress, why did your friend's husband act disgusted by you the other night? Was it that inappropriate joke? And shit, you make those jokes a lot. Does everyone think you're a douchebag like this guy does? Do you walk around thinking you're a decent person and everyone REALLY thinks you're a douchebag because of your inappropriate joking all the time? Hm. And then bam: someone asks you a question and you snap the answer back because of all of this deep thinking of thoughts, and they're likely going to wonder about why you treated them that way, and possibly let it eat at them, snapping at someone else.

I repeat.. hm.

Now, I realize I could be completely over thinking things, and granted, I worry about how people in general treat me way less than most. I'm well aware. But lately, I'm more scared of abandonment than usual. I know it started with the hospital stay, and how thankful I was by this outpouring of unexpected support (especially from the families I'm proud to be considered part of, plus my own biological one), and upset by the few I did definitely expect that didn't come through.

I don't know if I'd be able to thrive if my families wrote me off. I'd survive, because I do, but I doubt I'd be able to thrive like I have without them.

My foster mom, Jacque, told me that she loves my pick-myself-up-by-the-bootstraps mentality, and I don't know any other way. We're sharks, us humans. Swim or die. Move or die. Be or die. I can't imagine another way to be. But I feel like I'm catapulting towards death. My life is already a quarter over, and what have I done with it?

What have I done with it?

I don't want to live a wasted life that's full of putting out fires, flying through books and classes and concerts and rejoicing in their beauty for a moment and then forgetting because a fire explodes my brain and consumes my thoughts for weeks or months on end.

I don't want to forget, or do so little with my life that it's overly-complacent and I'm essentially not swimming and therefore propelling myself to a boring death to an unfulfilled life.

Hm.

What a weird random post. I just needed to spew word vomit though, I guess.

I should be studying.

I have more important things to do then fill up interweb pages with my empty ramblings, but I don't care. I feel like this is more relevant.

I'm lucky to have so many families that love me. Nick's middle name is Rocco, and there is actually a SAINT Rocco (fuck me, I love Catholics) and if you don't believe me, his day is August 16. I'm tempted to name my first born son Rocco, if it didn't break my cardinal rule of naming offspring (which I probably won't even have, but who the hell cares?!). If you don't know my cardinal rule, I think a name should fit perfectly in two instances: following "my dearest" in a love letter and Supreme Court Justice blank blank. I mean, shit. We have a responsibility to our kids. Maybe a middle name. Hm.

So anyway. I'm lucky. The Italians love me. Like, Linda will sit there and, without fail, after dinner she says "I love our family" and smiles and me and Jayboy on the couch, usually with fatcat Francis tucked between us. How did I get so Norman Rockwell by association? I repeat: lucky sucker am I.

A dude went crazy on me yesterday. Implied that since I didn't run his shitty article about going abroad to South Africa a year ago.. YES, a year ago... meant that I was racist and not in support of running articles for "the people". FUCK YOU MAN. I'm more African than you! First generation immigrant, you useless asswipe. But no, I didn't say that. I was polite, although I raised my voice. REALLY? Racist? Because I have standards on the quality of writing I put in my section? Eff that shiz. Uggh.

Overall, school is way better than I figured it would be. Even though I'm slacking off at the moment.. disregard the hypocrisy. Maybe someone up there likes me, because the capstone ish I could sleep through, and my geography classes that actually matter are headed by the two most frequently seen of my professors, and the most understanding. Thank my lucky stars.

If all this positive shit makes you ill, please understand: I write these things to remember why I stay hopeful when life takes a big poop on my head, which is often. I mean, all the plans I had for the next few years of my life have been demolished because of one freak hospital stay. I'm having to make long-lasting financial decisions in the near future: whether I'll say to hell with it about the debt, and go immediately for grad school; if I'll decide to teach in hopes of the gov'ment forgiving my loans because I'll teach at low-income schools; if I should move where the cost of living to wage ratio is higher so I can kill myself over the next five years to pay everything down, et cetera. And for the first time ever, I'm really banking on my dad making it through for me, and being able to support my mom while I'm gone. Because for the next five years, I can't consider her, which is a first. And maybe that's the root of it all.

I'm not going to be able to do what I've always done because my situation is so utterly fucked, and so I feel like a failure. I'll be literally meeting every goal I've planned on meeting, and because of something completely out of my control, I'll be walking into years of insane debt and the inability to meet my personal responsibilities. No wonder this thing is so discombobulating.

But frankly, there's no other option but trying to look out for myself and take care of this situation as quickly, efficiently, and granted, selfishly as possible, so I can take of her when she really needs it. And there's an undeniable freedom in that selfishness, which is probably why I'm considering jumping the west coast ship and going somewhere as random as Florida to work my way through it.

Hm. Saying all that out loud (figuratively speaking) makes me feel a whole lot better about it. Bueno.

If you read this.. I commend you. And probably love you. Have a good night!