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the old stuff
For the week of may 25, 1997
Well, another semester gone, pretty much for real now. Here in the lab, the last time it's going to be open until we get the new machines in over the summer. People milling around, showing off programs to friends, parents, relatives.
Was awoken this morning at 8:30 by the sound of the bagpipes parading down the street in front of my dorm, leading the grad student procession. That was fun after having been in the theatre for six and a half hours the night before. Oh yeah.
I've noticed, in the two years that i've been here through commencement week, the difference in the way people act when placed in temporary housing. damn but that wasn't an interesting segue. just really had to get it off my chest.
four hour intermission
Right. There was really no way that i was going to be able to write in there with all those people, I don't even know what I was thinking. Anyway, I've noticed the way that people treat belongings that aren't specifically theirs. You'd think that nice, college-educated (or at least, those in mid education) people would understand the concept of "respect" or whatever you'd like to call it.
Nah. Put someone somewhere that isn't really their "home," in any sense of the word, and you get someone who wouldn't know the toilet from the floor, or so it would seem from the mess in the bathroom. (yeah, i'm a bit bitter.)
"it's not my problem"
seems to be a real popular point of view around these parts. I just can't understand that. I tend to, or try to, put myself in a position of "what if i actually cared about this place" whereever I go. Or at least most places. Even if I couldn't give a rat's ass about wherever I happen ot be, someone probably does, and I don't want to intrude on their space.
Same thing goes for the theatre. Even more so, I suppose, because of the quick turnarounds that we have in there. People generally don't care about what they use, what they break, or what they fuck up, because they know that if they hide it or put it in the closet long enough, they'll be gone and it'll be left for the next group of people to deal with.
Or me.
That's what really gets to me. Is that the next group really doesn't care enough either, since they aren't the ones that made the mess in the first place. And while I do feel that it's pretty much become my job to clean up after people, i wish that there was some way that I could instill the same sense of "home" into these people as I have.
Of course, until then, you can find me in the theatre, cleaning up other people's crap.
...
Oops, mind wandering again. Looking out my window, dusk, for the last time, I try to think about the year that I've had here. And fail miserably. Memories are fine, but dreams are where it's at. Looking out over the cit, the sun slowly setting, the last rays of the day's light reflecting off of those fourth story windows. Living for the moment. Not worrying about anything else for a little while.
That's what makes life so fun.
Subtle beauty. Oh, and ethernet to my room.
Argh. Foiled again.
Here it is. The rug pulled half back, the only thing keeping it down the desk with the computer on which i am typing right now. The only thing left around here is my bottle of dragon's breath, some candy canes, a roll of film (panoramic) and some rubber cement.
The sun's shining in through the window, over the construction site. I'm looking at the reflection of myself in the monitor. Procrastinating. Got back here about 45 minutes ago after a run to Dunkins for an egg and cheese, hot chocolate, and a chocolate frosted. And I just can't bring myself to finish packing.
Am i lazy? Tired? Bored? Or maybe I just don't want to acknowledge that when I pack up the car in a few hours and leave town, that I'm leaving my home. Oh sure, I'll be back in a few months anyway, and it'll be great fun with a new room and new roommates and all that, but I always get all sentimental about things, about consistency, about saving things, about preservation.
And about memories.
That's why I don't throw anything out. And that's why i've been keeping these pages. I'd like to remember my life. I realize that there's so much of my past that's murky, that I would have liked to have known, but can't for the life of me remember.
Hopefully these will server as my long term memory.
The construction's started for the day. beep. beep. beep. beep.
I remember showing up last year. Putting things down for the first time. My roommate and I, we built up a home. Or at least that's how it felt to me. Not just a room, but for the time that we were here, a home.
He's asleep now. The first time all year he hasn't slept in his loft. That's all packed away safely now.
So much more to finish up before I leave. In the past, when i've gone home, forgetting things, leaving things behind, wasn't that big of a deal. After all, the move was temporary. This move. This move is for real. I'm not coming back here. I won't ever look out the to see the sun rise through this window. Nor will I be visited by the same neighbors again.
It's strange how final something as temporary as a summer can feel when you're tired.
Best be finishing the packing now...
wednesday, may 28, 1997, 01:25
Back in my own room now. My room. That I've had for a long, long time. The room that will always be my home. Of course right now I've transplanted my ex-home into this one, so it's nothing more than a big mess at the moment, but that's all scheduled to change.
Had a nice drive home with my mother (after getting more stuff than i ever imagined i would have in my room into the car), and then picked up my sister at school. Then spent some time getting ppp working on my baby, err, machine again. Damn kernel upgrades.
Went over to a friend's to watch a movie, though it's so different to watch in someone's living room rather in their dorm room. It's so different having to drive over somewhere instead of walk. It's so different not seeing anyone else arond. Not having the lights on outside. Not having sounds outside.
Being home.
Really, what is home any more? I was all for coming back here because my friends would be here. I could spend time with them. That's a good thing. But what exactly is here other than three people that I want to see? Certainly not my high school. I'm so far out of touch with that it's not even funny any more.
I remember coming home after my first year of college, and I was all excited to go back and visit my old friends and catch up on lost time and all that other good stuff.
And then that all started to change. And I've gotten jaded. First it was the "i'm too mature for all of them" syndrome. But regardless of that, now there's nobody around who i'm really even friends with anymore.
I go back to the school, I look around. All new faces. of course it's to be expected. Don't know really what I was looking for. Perhaps some sort of assurance that when i came back here, everything was going to be okay. Everything was going to be familiar.
Whatever. Time to realize that moving on means just that. And you can't go back. Memories. Right. But leave it at that. Live for the moment. You can always look back on the past, but you can't dwell on the moment. Once it's gone, it's past, and all you can do is look back, and see what you decided was the right thing to do at the time.
Huh?! I think I'm really too tired right now. Later d00dz.
Tried to clean my room, but was just too tired to think, and too overwhelmed by this mess to do anything about it. I still have boxes sitting here from last summer. This is going to be hell. And I also finally convinced that there'd absolutely nothing on television.
Racist relatives of biracial relationships. Commercials for webtv. The news. It's all crap. Time for sleep now. Can't deal with this anymre
I didn't quite realize how tired I was yesterday when I started writing until I just looked back and saw what I wrote. Hopefully this one will be a little more comprehensible.
Just fell asleep again. This whole "home" thing is really exhausting. I can normally make it on this little sleep. Must be something about me knowing that there's the potential of me to be sleeping a lot more than I actually am, and getting mad that I'm not.
Or perhaps its the fact that my mother woke me up early yesterday to get out of the house. Just looking out for me, sure, butI really would have loved some more sleep instead of a wakeup call.
Wow. it's a wonder that this connection has been alive as long as it has. Color me impressed.
Getting back to this whole writing thing after about 2 hours of napping. mst remember that i'm not at school any more. That whole conservation of electricity thing is important.
It's strange how quickly life moves. Before I packed up to come home, I was looking through some of these pages, and I noticed that I had been home already two weekends ago. And now I'm home again. Days pass by one by one, and I really don't know what's going on with each one. I don't really seem to be doing anything productive, and yet, at the same time, I find myself not wanting to do anything.
Which is what makes finding a summer job so tough. I really should be getting a job. I think i want to find a job. But it would be so much nicer to not have anything at all to do. To be able to stay up late, to wake up whenever I wanted.
Is this what's going to happen in the future? What happens when I get out of school and I'm forced into doing that whole "adult" "work" thing. Do I really want to deal with that? I've pretty much set my heart against the corporate life. But do I have the guts to go out there and take a risk and apply for jobs?
It's so much easier to assume that you won't get hired, and therefore not apply. By applying, first of all, you're saying that indeed you might want this particular job, and secondly, that you think that you might be qualified for this job.
This requires a certain amount of confidence.
Me? I'm worried more these days about finding a job that I like enough to apply for. Strange as that sounds. Even before the actual "will i get this job" stage, I'm going to have to find something that interests me. And I don't know what that's going to be yet.
Sure, I've got a couple of years, but these first two have just flown by, and I'm expecing the next two to do the same. After that time, I'm going to be forced to choose some sort of path I want to take at the time.
Not that anything's set in stone, and if I don't like it I can always quit. But I'm going to reach a point where I'm going to have to find something that suits me. Something that I can survive on, and something that I will enjoy.
Still looking for those "Professional Slacker Wanted" ads. heh.
Got a job response today. I've got work this summer. How much, and exactly what sort is still unknown. I knew that I could always get a job at my father's office. That was pretty much a given. Problem is that I'm sick of the corporate thing.
Heh. One summer and i'm sick of it? Normally takes longer than that. I guess it really disagreed with me. First I thought it was the commute. I thought the work wasn't really that bad. but thinking back on it, I think that I've done enough of that (fairly) mindless moving machines bcak and forth between buildings stuff to last me a while.
Of course, thinking about it now, the work that I'll end up doing this summer could be the same sort of thing. Just a different location. Not having the commute will be a big plus, as will working with friends. Plus, I have a feeling that this job will give me some more chances to work with new problems instead of beating old ones.
Besides, there's just something I really don't like about working for a big company. Sure, there are advantages, such as the fact that they don't really mind spending money, but still, the whole environment just wasn't my thing.
My father tells me that what I'm doing is good. All this computer stuff. Learning something; learning a skill. Always have a skill so you can always find work wherever you go. I'm just afraid that computer skills on their own won't be good enough in the future. And I'm afraid that I won't be able (or want to) integrate this theatre stuff into my life.
All of my cs friends seem to think that i'm going to go the theatre route. all of my theatre friends seem to think i'm going to rake in all this money doing cs. I just want to be happy, and i'm thinking that i want to do something internet related.
But I know so little about it, at least from an end where you can make money that it makes it difficult for me to plan anything. Think i've decided that i want to be doing something where i can interact (in some way) with people, where i can employ some of my programming skills, and where i can be creative to an extent.
Now that I've got a plan, i need a direction.
Road map anyone?
03:50 -- just looking through my wallet, and found a ticket stub from a sebadoh concert i went to earlier this year. I suppose i forgot about that one the last time.
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