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Some thoughts about people, music, and so on )

ETA: And then there's the tape that I did write the titles on, and I still have no idea what half the songs are. And, you know, I still love Save the Best For Last, but did it really have to go on every mix tape?
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When [livejournal.com profile] johnstevensaul and [livejournal.com profile] crifmer first moved into their apartment in Morristown, back in 1999, they invited people over for alcoholic slushies and video games. The slushies and video games were repeated periodically thereafter, over many years and several residences.

Tonight, I decided to try out the ice from my new freezer, and the blender I've never used. I made my own slushies. I don't think I got the proportions right, but what I have doesn't taste bad. I'm feeling nostalgic, though. And I sort of wish I had video games to go with the slushy.

ETA: Followed, unsurprisingly, by slushy spilled all over my shirt. *sigh*

October

Oct. 18th, 2004 05:03 pm
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The foliage is incredible. I'd say the peak here was probably some time last week, but everything is still so gorgeous it takes my breath away. This time of year is the biggest reason I could never just pick up and move far away. How could anything match the crisp, chilly air, the bright blue skies with puffy white clouds, vibrant green grass, and leaves of almost all colors imaginable?

It's been ten years since I was in marching band, but October afternoons still make me think of parking lot practices, and on Friday nights and Saturday mornings, I almost want to go watch high school football. The only other time of year that I get high school flashbacks is late March and early April, when I remember rehearsals for the musical. You'd think that set of memory cues would have been replaced in college by Medfest preparations, but somehow the high school memories persist.

I know a lot of people with October birthdays. I haven't been acknowledging the ones on my friendslist, but I have been thinking of each of you, and will continue to do so. I still haven't called my brother, either.

A trend over the last few years is that I generally rediscover baseball each October. I can't ever seem to remember it over the summer, when it's relaxed. No, I don't start paying attention until the playoffs, when it's do or die. And it's always do or die, since somewhere along the line I gave in and admitted that I'm a Red Sox fan, God help me. I was up watching the game until 1:30 last night, because I had to know if they lost then, or if they're prolonging the agony to lose tonight. Then again, knowing the Red Sox, I wouldn't put it past them to win two more and lose in game 7 as usual - prolonging the agony is really what it's all about. Being a Red Sox fan in October is a mild form of masochism, unless like me you live in Yankee territory, in which case there's nothing mild about it.

Swimming

Jun. 9th, 2004 04:34 pm
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Seasonable weather is a good thing, because it helps me remember that time is passing and not every day is exactly the same. I'm trying to convince myself of this. But I'm incredibly glad I got the car's AC fixed when I did.

If I were still in high school, I'd be calling around to everyone I knew with a pool, hoping for an invitation to come over and go swimming. Nope, no shame. )

Swimming lessons. )
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Today is a chilly damp day; it's been raining off and on, although little bits of sunlight peek through from time to time. It's sort of typical for spring in the Northeast. It's not warm enough to go without a jacket today, but after several days last week, it's hard to remember that I still need one.

Just as the crisp bright fall days make me think of marching band, these spring rainy days still make me think of the last few rehearsals for high school musicals. And somehow the rainy days are always linked in my mind to the inevitable angst over The Boy, whoever The Boy happened to be in a given year. He was always the wrong one, that's for sure.

The forsythia is in bloom, and the daffodils are up. I haven't seen many tulips yet this year, although there was a gorgeous display in Whole Foods last week. I should go buy some for myself. I do love tulips. I like the daffodils as well, of course, but I got accustomed to seeing them everywhere while I was at Drew. The tulips are rarer.

I remember in elementary school, I used to bring bouquets of daffodils and tulips to my teachers from my mother's garden. In the fall, I'd bring chrysanthemums. I got teased one year, not because of the flowers but because of my accent. I pronounce vase to rhyme with base. My teacher and some of my classmates felt it should rhyme with Oz. Given that I never fully acquired the local accent, I'm still a little mystified why they chose that particular word to pick on.
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Once again, a Medfest skill has proved useful in the so-called real world.

I created and used a WordPerfect mail merge at work today.

It brings back happy memories (and not so happy memories) of printing 80-ish alumni letters down at the Aide Station, writing notes to the people I knew, and walking to the Madison post office to buy the stamps to mail them all. It lost a little of its charm after I bought the labels and we didn't have the Battle of the Envelopes. But by then I knew a good half or more of the people I was writing to, and it was almost as much fun as writing my Christmas cards.

I wish it could have stayed with someone with the time, dedication, and money to sink into it. But suckers like me are not easy to come by...

At any rate, that's what I did today.
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Ah, fall.

This is the time of year when all my friends start to sidle away from me, because my circulation has cut out. It's really odd how I can be warm, even overly warm, but my hands will still be chilled.

I remember fondly the marching band rehearsals out in the parking lot. I had part of the drum line trained well enough that every time the instructor called a break, one of them would come to me, turn his or her back, and loosen the collar so I could slip my hands in and warm them.

Okay, so maybe I did have friends in high school. Or maybe I just knew a lot of masochists...

The nice crisp cold makes me want to snuggle up in a big blanket in front of a fire with a hot cup of something. And someone friendly-but-not-serious to cuddle up to.
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After ten years - the important ten years, no less - where would I even begin?

I guess that's the key to all the people I miss from before college. I wouldn't even know how to pick up from where we left off, because I barely remember who I was, whenever it was. How could I even find a place to start to explain who I have become, and why?

I'm having a hard enough time trying to figure out how to re-establish one or two lost friendships with people I never lost contact with in the last four years. I'm trying to figure out if it's worth the effort, the risk. I'm unsure of my pacing, and of the soundness of my decisions. Most days I'm willing to fight for even a shadow of what I remember. Some days I think it's a waste of my time, that the conclusion is inevitable and I shouldn't set myself up for disappointment.

How much more so would it be with someone I no longer know at all, who no longer knows me? For someone who, most likely, never really knew me at the time? How do I get from Shy Repressed Anti-Social Band Geek to... well, Shy Repressed Anti-Social Gamer Geek. Perhaps I overestimate my own change. And yet, while my base self-assessment hasn't changed that much, I think my outlook and perceptions and values certainly have. How on earth could I express that, and how I came to where I am?

The problem with memories is that it will always seem more extreme - the good parts get better, the bad parts get both better and worse. I remember the friends and the friendships better, more fondly, and gloss over all the flaws. The problems seem comparatively insignificant, but the time I remember them taking and the strength of my reactions both become larger.

So I reminisce over the friendships long gone by, which were probably never what I remember them to be, and wish I could get back in touch with people I probably wouldn't have anything in common with anyway. That truly is a waste of my time, regardless of anything else.

I'm tempted to skip right over the letters to the few people I have left and get to the ones to people I still know. More challenging, and riskier, of course... but I could use a challenge or two. But there's only about four left, and one of them I have to write. We'll see.
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S is coming to visit. She’s flying in from France tonight. I miss her so much - it’s been well over a year since I saw her last, probably closer to two. It’s funny how you can go so long barely thinking of someone, then get reminded about them and have it hit you like a ton of bricks. S and I used to be really close friends. Not as close as [livejournal.com profile] turtle_morn, who was my roommate and constant companion for three years, and nothing is as close as that, but we spent an awful lot of time together, and we worked as partners for six months. She’s probably spent more time with my family than any of my other friends, too - possibly still more than J has. I guess that’s why she knew she could call me up and ask to sleep in my living room for a week.

Some days I really miss college. I couldn’t go back - I wouldn’t, even if I were paid. I’ve changed too much, haven’t the tolerance for the soap opera and associated histrionics. And I couldn’t bring myself to face the innumerable crises, real and imagined. But I really miss the good parts. I miss seeing the people who were only casual friends instead of close friends. I miss going to the Medfest table at the Commons and knowing there would always be people there I knew to eat and talk with. I miss the huggy cuddly interactions. Those who I still see regularly are still more physical than the average people, but it’s nothing like it used to be.

I miss fitting two or three people in an extra-long twin bed. J and I barely make do with a queen-size. I miss illegal pets, illegal candles, illegal alcohol... seems like there’s no thrill now that it’s perfectly all right to have all those things. I miss late-night diner runs - and not the Broadway diner, either, I mean the one in Chester. Before it went crappy. I miss filling up Room 7 and getting all of us 3 or 4 levels on the MUD before the Aide Station closed. I miss daniel and process names. And four-digit phone numbers, that could be remembered, instead of ten-digit phone number that have to be programmed into a cell phone.

And I miss having the big things I want in life to be a boyfriend, a Riker single, and a 3.2 GPA, instead of wanting a marriage, a house, and a $32,000 annual salary.

Well, as [livejournal.com profile] oidhche would say, there’s a lot of things I want in my life. At least I have a lot of the important ones. I have J, and my car, and our apartment, and a job. Some of my friends are still in the area, and I’m in touch with some of the others all the time. I’m really pretty lucky. And I get to see S tonight, and all week long. Can’t complain about that. Nope, I wouldn’t go back.

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