once upon a beach

This is what I'm really missing now.

Just before I started school in 2004, Adam and I got to take a vacation to explore the east coast. It was possibly the most carefree, stress-free, trouble-free week of my life. It was just freeing, in general. First, we stayed at his uncle's high-rise penthouse in downtown Boston with a rooftop view of the city skyline, taking the trolley tour of all the sights Boston has to see. Then we drove down the east coast, took the Cape May Ferry out of New Jersey, and headed to my grandma's and her sister's beach cottage in Bethany Beach, Delaware. A free, private cabin one block from the Atlantic Ocean. Enough said.

Life feels unbearable at the moment. Isn't that strange? I mean, despite all my longings to travel, I am so unbelievably content and happy with where I am in life. I had a fantastically beautiful weekend. Life, both from day to day and on the whole, is ideal. Other than the ageless problem of wanting more money, I can't think of anything I would change. Yet, I can't stand it.

I feel like fussing about all the things that other people could be doing to help me out. Yet, I'm doing nothing to help anyone else, other than trying to make them feel loved and cared for. And I guess that's it. I guess that's what I want. I want to feel valued; I want to not have to ask people to hang out with me or go somewhere with me, but rather have them invite me, have them come to me and say “hey, I want to spend time with you. I haven't been meeting my Robyn quota lately.” I feel like human relationships are so much work, and because it's mostly work that I greatly enjoy, sometimes I get to feeling like I'm the only one putting forth any effort in working at them.

What's worst of all about this problem is that I feel like I just have to keep quiet about it. Because as soon as you start complaining about being lonely, people turn off to you because you sound pitiful, and who wants a pitiful friend/lover/whatever. I am an optimist, and the curse that comes with being an optimist is that people come to expect that from you. You even expect it from yourself. As a result, if you're feeling down, you can get reallllllllly stuck, because you feel like people won't like you if you gripe and vent to them. I feel like I have a face to keep up and people to please, which is miserable, because authenticity is even more important to me. Most of the time my optimism is authentic, but right now I feel like I should just smile and be sweet and friendly and understanding of everybody despite the fact that I feel screwed and ignored and desperately sad, for absolutely no good reason whatsoever.

What thirst is it that feels unquenched? What more can I seek that I haven't already sought? What is it that I'm wanting that I don't have?

Oftentimes, I wonder if I take on stresses from other people. If I'm around people who are troubled, I become troubled for them because I so very much want to help them get through their troubles. What I really need is to figure out how to get through my own, how to get back that free feeling from that most memorable of vacations, without letting other people's troubles and stresses effect me so badly.

travel reminiscence- part III

In May of 2004, the company I was working for sent me to Boulder, CO for a very boring meeting. I didn't care about the boring meeting though, because in two months later I was quitting the job to go back to school. (They knew this, but they sent me on the trip anyway, which was very cool of them.) I was just excited about the prospect of seeing the rocky mountains.

Sadly, during my three day stay, the weather was of unprecedented cloudiness and fogginess, such that it looked more like Toledo than Boulder. The guy at the desk in the hotel said he'd lived in Boulder all his life and had never seen such a bad streak of weather. But I got a great free dinner at a fancy restaurant in the mountains, and we at least got to drive through the Rockies, even though the mountain peaks were hidden by all the low clouds.

travel reminiscence- part II

In Fall of 2003, my dad and I took a trip to to the southwestern US. My cousin was getting married in El Paso, so just for fun we flew to Phoenix, rented a car, and drove across Arizona, New Mexico, and into Texas, seeing the sights and taking lots of pictures. On the way back to Phoenix after the wedding, we stopped at White Sands National Monument at sunset, and drove through Saguaro National “Forest” (I'm sorry, but I just can't think of a field of cacti as a forest) searching for the funkiest cactus in Arizona.

The winner:

gotta travel on

I'm in the midst of a really overwhelming urge to travel. Winter is on it's way, which will no doubt only intensify this craving. Plans are in the works for a couple possible trip in 2006, but finances are a big obstacle such that the future of my participation in these voyages looks sadly fuzzy.

The biggest, most exciting of these possibilities, is Alaska. For the entire summer.

*dramatic pause*

Yeah, that's how I feel about it. I've almost given up already, just because it seems too cool to be real. Or at least too expensive. But I haven't given up hope. The itch to explore the world is a strong one, and such drives can motivate people like me to find a way where it seems there is none.

I've actually done a good bit of traveling in the past couple years, moreso than ever before in my life. But more recently, as a poor college student, I haven't been able to get around as much. So, I feel the urge to reminisce of these travels. I think what I might do, rather than making one huge long post about each of these trips, I'll post a bit about each trip each day this week.

The grand list of travels started in February 2003, with a somewhat random decision to spend a week in Florida visiting my grandparents, who were renting a place for the winter. The trip took place about a month before my ex and I separated, things had been rough at home for a couple months, and it was fantastic to get away and reclaim my freedom a bit. This was the first time I had spent the night in a bed by myself since getting married in July of 1998, the first time I'd been in an airplane since I was 14, the first time I'd been south of Kentucky since I was 10. That trip was what really got me into photography. My grandparents were wonderful tour guides, and were very supportive of (and patient with) my efforts to take pictures of all sorts of random things. It was amazing to escape from the mid-western winter weather, and I actually cried when the first leg of my return flight arrived in Chicago and the pilot announced the temperature outside.

Ohio is the stupidest state in America

Ohio may have voted to keep gay couples from getting married, but at least hamsters and guinea pigs have finally gained the freedom to live together in matrimonial bliss, according to this article:

[Note: I had a link here to a story in a local paper about a family who had a full out wedding, complete with invitations, a minister, guests, and cake.... for their hamster and guinea pig. They must have taken the story down, however, because the link is no longer functional. Sorry! Wish I'd copied the story. It was ridiculous. They took it so seriously.]

Maybe this is a sign of progress.

?

rainy monday

I am feeling much more inspired than I have felt in a while. It isn't uncommon for me to find myself feeling this way at this time of year, in the last minute rush to appreciate the fact that it doesn't yet feel like February, while the surrounding Ohio world still has some color in it. But I feel like I'm seizing the opportunity a little more than I have the past couple years. Every outlet for my creativity is being utilized somehow. I'm taking pictures, I'm writing prose and poetry and music, I'm reading and thinking and discussing-- such fabulous discussions I've been having with friends over the past month or two. Life is just so intriguing right now.

My Mondays are almost always insane. I have five classes in one day, going straight through 10:00am-1:00pm, then an hour break, then class again at 2pm, then an afternoon break to do homework (or avoid doing homework by writing for this blog), with another class at 7pm, which goes until 9:00pm.

Last night, I avoided doing my music theory homework and decided to sleep instead, knowing full well I wouldn't have time to finish it by 2:00 today. Miraculously, though, two things happened this morning. First, my 10:00 class was cancelled. Next, I sat down with my newly discovered free hour to complete the music theory homework I thought I had, only to find I didn't have any homework assigned! Instead we had a test, which was ok because I was ready for it.

Despite the fact that it is getting progressively colder throughout the day, I'm finding myself very cozy and happy. I'm in my room now, drinking a warm cup of coffee, eating chocolate chip cookies, listening to good music. I love this room. I just moved in last weekend. Biz dropped by yesterday to see it for the first time, and her mouth literally dropped open when she walked in. It's nice to feel like I finally have a home that's comfortable, even if they still kick me out for Thanksgiving and Christmas vacations!

in honor of the pumpkin

Saturday, I traveled to Circleville to play an hour long show at the Circleville Pumpkin Show, Ohio's oldest festival, and the "greatest free show on earth" according to the people who run the pumpkin show (if they do say so themselves). It had been quite a long time since I'd played a full solo performance like that, and I felt a little rusty, but it went well and was quite fun, none-the-less.

One of the best things about being on stage during an event like that is the opportunity for people-watching. 100s of people passed in front of that stage as I was up there playing and singing, most of them looking up at me making eye-contact, many of them stopping to watch for a while. I wonder if they knew they were performing for me, as well. So many different stories behind all those eyes. It's always amazing to me how many strangers there are in the world.

Near the end of my performance, as I was on the first verse of "Think of That", I became aware that some sort of parade was coming down the street. After the chorus, I skipped to the ending of the song, and as the audience applauded, a squad of marching drummers formed a circle in front on the stage and proceded to play for the next hour. We tore down my sound equipment to the serenade of their thumping. It was strange.

It was great to play again, to experience the set-up and tear-down chaos, to find the balance between getting the job done and responding to people who want to comment or ask about the music. An hour later, I got to listen to my old friends of the band Lift play on a nearby stage. It was great to hang out with old frends again and to enjoy the music and the festival and the chilly fall evening.

Today, Adam and I went out to breakfast at our new favorite French cafe, and to an antique store just for fun, and to shop for halloween costumes to wear to Hardie's party in Yellow Springs next weekend. I also have the haunted house to look forward to this week, and two shows on campus. And tomorrow is Monday. I'm back at the dorm. Let the craziness begin.

beginning

I feel like starting a blog.

Why?

Um, I guess because it's Friday. And because I get excited about things I see and feel like having a place to draw attention to such things. I like taking pictures of things that are somewhat purposeless other than the fact that they inspire me. And if there's one thing I need, it's inspiration.

And I feel like people don't know me very well, because when is there really time to get to know a person? At any time of day you feel like by reading their blog, that's when there's time! Bon appetit.