Today's the Day

I think I may just give up....

I honestly don't think there could have been a girl who worked harder to take summer classes then me. I found out the school I wanted to take the classes at started two weeks before I could make it. Then I have less than three weeks to scramble and send all my information to the Plan B school, then I worry about getting approved for the loan I applied for. Then I find out that I don't have a place to live. I come home, my mom gets the place, but then I start to come to this big realization that this isn't really my home, my home doesn't exist at this place anymore. I soon get over that and feel inspired to declare my independence. I have to move on.

Moving has actually been fun, well not in the fun way of hauling all our stuff box by box to our new place, but because I am getting rid of all the things I feel have weighed me down the last 6 years. It' s...Liberating. I found my yearbook from the 5th grade. Found is a stretch though, it's more like " I looked at the 5th grade journal I put in a box a year ago so I wouldn't continue thinking about the past". Told you it was a stretch.

The new place is larger than where we live now, but doesn't have much storage which means my mother had to rent out a storage place. Most of my stuff ironically is going into storage, as bulks of my brothers stuff is sitting in his nice new room. So yesterday as I was going through it I realized that this was probably the last time I would see it in a while. It was a pleasant goodbye. By the power of Myspace, I was able to search for names, and either be slightly surprised, repulsed, or content with with how everyone seemed to turn out. The faces seemed so strange to me, their new lives seemed so foreign, and I guess it was because I realized the people I imagine them being are the same smiling and sometimes frowning 5th graders I remember them as. I realized they were as distant a memory to me, as I am to them. And I found solace in that.

In found solace in seeing: the kid named Omar who everyone made fun of, was this beautiful young man who is very proud to be bisexual, more power to you.

Or that my old friend Ben who was a model, has ditched that career to be a regulars guy guy, with muscle cars and gelled hair.

A kid name Mark, who I assumed would be the "sports guy" was actually more of an art guy, who apparently loves his girlfriend and his boat.

Matthew who loved the song "Building a Mystery", was very smart, and how he would draw in class all the time. He was shy, and dorky, and wanted me to work on the science project with him. He is now this suave, artist, who does not mind dressing up...in drag...Apparently

A girl named Jade who was this strange girl who has anxiety attacks before test, and who is now this sorority girl with a love for bob marley.

It was bizarre and strange. I felt like a voyeur a little, but was happy that it was a way of saying goodbye. To that "thing" I was holding on to. That thing that has left me stunted. Of course the three people I really wanted to see weren't on Myspace. And I guess it's because saying goodbye to them or the dream of them was harder than just having some images of words. I'm saying goodbye to.

My best friend Ahesha, who was born in Barbados and came to the states when she was young. She was loud and gossipy, and brash. But she made me laugh, and she was protective of me, and she was the ying to my yang. We walked home together, spent summers together. We balanced each other out.

And Arthur. Who was kind of that other friend I hung out with on the side, but who Ahesha and Nicholas hated. He made me a Yankees fan, and almost kissed me in the field. he talked like Tim The Tool man Taylor, and had an infectious laugh. He was in the orchestra with us, and was this boyish kid who struggled to hold a bow.

But mainly I'm saying goodbye to Nicholas. Oh...Nicholas. His goodbye is well overdue. He encompassed everything that was great about my youth. His is like the symbol of it. The magic and wonder of being young, and living where I lived. He was comfort as was my home. He was beautiful as was life. He was understanding, thoughtful, energetic, funny. And knowing what I know now, I knew that I wasn't in love with him, I was in love with the idea that he evoke. I was love with what I made him represented. Home. Of Westchester. And it's time to say goodbye.

That was all very liberating yesterday. I was feeling good and everything. AND THEN. I find out that I cannot take summer classes at Plan B school.Seems that the loan I applied for can only be used if I am a full time student at the school. Of course when I talked to the financial lady two weeks ago, she did not specify that. She gave me the go ahead to apply for my own loan. Summer classes start Friday. And there's no way that 1500 is going to fall in my lap. Yeah. Bites the big one. At first I was upset. Who wouldn't be. But I figure this will give me the time to do what I want to do. Write, volunteer, exercise. I know throwing in the towel is bad, but I'm exhausted. I don't think I can take anymore disappointments. My mom was like "well we didn't know, we are learning" and I can't help but be sick of being the test subject. Because it's all at my expense, literally and figuratively.

I'm on a mental vacation. I don't want to think about biology, or school, or worry about money. I want to do what I want to do. I want to be creative and not feel the burden of being apart of this family. I feel like they are waiting for me to succeed in medicine so that they might get out of their own funk. But at this moment I don't want to do anything but my passion. What I really want to do. Which is write.

I've got some packing to do. I have to do something productive so I don't feel down in the dumps.