sigh. what has been going on.
i have not been keeping up with lab stuff like i should. i leave as soon as i can and avoid dick like the plague. i’m procrastinating on this grant proposal like nobody’s business. why is it that i don’t care anymore?
i think my mind’s been leaning toward some mental reevaluation lately, but i’ve been holding it back because i’m not sure i want to go there right now. i’ve been thinking about things i haven’t thought about in years. thinking things i’ve never thought before. it’s kind of freaking me out.
i just don’t know what to make of the girl. it’s like she’s completely ignoring the things i told her a couple of months ago. she’d said that she wasn’t ready to talk about it, and i knew then that meant we never would. and now i see that’s true. i think i may be starting to get over her. or maybe it’s just because i haven’t seen her in several months. we’ll see what i think after i see her in december. especially after spring break in amsterdam.
mom and nannie came up for fall break. my mother has lost like twenty pounds since the last time i saw her. she’s wearing the same size as me. i know i’m supposed to be happy for her and all, but mostly i’m just pissed.
i’ve been hanging out with my cat too much.
me and rommie.

if i had a boat
i’d go out on the ocean
and if i had a pony
i’d ride him on my boat
and we could all together
go out on the ocean
me up on my pony on my boat.

week one: check.

08/31/06

whew. it is now thursday and, having no classes or other obligations on fridays, the first week of school is over.
i successfully introduced my syllabus to my two lab sections. i was surprisingly not nervous standing up and talking in front of them. almost all of them are seniors. which means they are the exact same age as me. why do i feel so much more mature than them?
today during the lecture for that class i overheard some students talking about me.
have you been to lab? how’s the TA?
she’s…um…interesting.
but she’s nice.
oh, yeah, she seems really nice.
it was really really strange and i never want to have to do that again.
then i had like a two hour meeting about the policies and resources of the university for TAs. it was terribly boring and exhausting. don’t date students. don’t flash grades around. create an environment conducive to learning. campus emergency is 7-9111, 8037779111 from your cell. ugh.
then a reception for new biology grad students. more with the boring and exhausting. but with fruit and cookies. my advisor, being the graduate director, introduced everyone. i flipped off the cameraman while dick was introducing me and he thought it was directed at him and told everyone, “hey, she just flipped me off.”
before the reception, dick asked if i wanted to go out for a beer, celebrate the first week being finally over. sure, of course. i didn’t realize it was just going to be me. luckily a new professor dropped by right before we left and he tagged along. i swear, this man knows even less than i do about social convention.

so. the whole time i was in crete, i was writing this really long letter to the girl. like during the talks, instead of taking notes i was writing her. it was like twelve pages. and i sent olive oil made in the small town we were in (kolymbari) and pasta made with squid ink from athens and a rock from the beach at kolymbari.
she got my package yesterday and didn’t even say anything. that letter was not all killing time on my part, there was some meat in it. meat that i would think would elicit a response of some sort, even if it’s just to say she needs more time to process it or something.

she said no one is alone the way you are alone
and you held her looser than you would’ve
if you ever could have known
some things tie your life together
with slender threads of things to treasure
days like that should last and last and last
.

went to crete for a meeting on the molecular biology and genetics of lepidoptera (that’s moths and butterflies). for a whole week. i presented my poster (well, what we printed out on sheets of paper. the actualy poster got left somewhere at atlanta hartsfield.), listened to lots of talks (lots of talks). ate way too much cretan food. drank way too much cretan wine. swam in the mediterranean. did not ever want to leave.
had a few way too personal conversations with my graduate advisor. we hung out together most of the time. drinking and chatting. the group took a day trip to paleohora on the southern coast. it was a long bus ride and when we got close, i complained that we weren’t there yet. so he asked the driver to stop and we got off. the rest of the group went on to the public beach, but we got this wonderful beach all to ourselves. me and my advisor, changing behind towels, basking on a deserted beach.
we spent a night in athens on the way home. we had a beautiful dinner on a veranda, and it felt way too much like a date. the next morning, i put a flower in my hair, and he told me it looked very nice. i said i was trying to feel more feminine. he said no, no, you don’t need anything. you’re a very attractive woman, really. you’re very attractive.
okay, a) woman? ahh. b) no way is this appropriate, right? i mean. i do like the guy as a person, and i like hanging out with him. and i honestly think that he’s not trying to hit on me or anything. he is happily married, after all.

me and dick at the banquet the last night of the conference, both totally smashed.
dick and me.

dick on the private beach. check out that sky.
dick, beach.

wherein lies the definition of a slut, the numbers or the methods?
for example.
if i go to a bar with the objective of bringing the first boy who buys me a drink home with me then kicking him out after half an hour hoping never to hear from him again–and it works–does that make me a slut? or do i have to sleep with fifty people first?

the laughter penetrates my science
while drunken men find flaws in silence.

i know this is not how it goes, but it’s what i hear every time and it makes more sense to me.

last friday night we were out at a bar. i had my elbow propped on the table, holding my cigarette such that the smoke did not blow in our faces. i did not realize that my arm was precariously close to the lit end of his cigarette and he said to watch out or i’d get burned, and play-acted like he was going to put it out on my arm. i held out my arm, daring him to do it. he said, are you sure? and i looked at him defiantly (or so i imagine) and he did. i was completely shocked by the fact that it didn’t hurt at all. five minutes later when he went to the restroom, i put my cigarette out on my other arm. i wanted to see if i could make it hurt more.

unfortunately, i sort of instinctively did it in the quickest, least painful way possible. so now i have these matching cigarette burns on each arm. (well, his, the one on my right arm, is a little worse.) and now, a week later, they hurt. but it’s that dull, throbbing pain. also, it kind of reminds me that it didn’t not hurt when it happenned, but that i liked it. it’s all i can do not to put out another one right in the same spot. imagine how that would feel, right in an open wound. i think the only thing keeping me from doing it is knowing that my mother is coming to visit in a couple of weeks and i don’t want to have to explain myself. i can pass these off as oven burns if they heal enough.

and it’ll seem more like a song
and less like it’s math
when you pull on my hair
and bite me like that
and bite me and scratch me like that

what. the. fuck.

08/11/06

she just called me. at twelve fortyfive. while i am not asleep, i very easily could be.
not the point.
she called to tell me that this boy she’s been thinking about liking kissed her.
why, why does she think i want to know this. when i four days ago professed my undying love. but this is her way of pretending that it never happened, that everything is the same.
same reason she emailed me monday to whine about not feeling loved and no one finding her attractive. i think that one hurt more. what exactly does the “no one” in no one finding her attractive mean. am i now a non-person? no one besides me finds her attractive? no one who counts finds her attractive?
there’s not much like discovering how much you don’t matter.

i am terrified of all things
frightened of the dark, i am
you are taller than a mountain
deeper than the sea, you are
hold me
hold me
take me with you cause i’m lonely
i was closer to you back then
i was happier, i was
you are fading further from me
why don’t you come home to me?
hold me
hold me
take me with you cause i’m lonely
.

another thing:

08/10/06

there’s this boy.
i recently moved to my current location for graduate school. my mom came with to help with the move. she left on june twentyfirst, and june twentysecond was my first day of work.
work, by the way, equals doing research in a biology lab toward my doctorate.
that day, an undergraduate visiting from a faraway school to do research in the lab for the summer followed me home. we walked out together, and he just sort of came home with me. and he lived at my apartment until three days ago.
now, you have to understand some things about me for any of this to mean anything.
i am very shy. socially awkward. times a million. i could barely even talk to the kid.
i am not one to seek out relationships. friendships, even. i have had one boyfriend. (and one girlfriend.) i like being alone.
i had never had sex. (until june twentythird.)
so, now that we’re up to speed. i fucking brought the boy home with me. we spent every minute together. we weren’t an item or anything, we just were together all the time and had sex every couple of days. not a relationship, really. also, if you read the previous post, yes, the boy knows all about the girl.
even so, with no real emotional attachment to the boy himself, a big deal for me. i’ve never had someone else sleeping in my bed. someone staring at my naked body. i’d never awoken with an arm draped over me. i’d never bought a condom.
and now he is gone. gone away, never to be seen again.
this has left me in somewhat of a lurch.
i’ve never lived in my apartment alone. my mom was here for the first week, and then this kid. so it’s very strange. i haven’t gotten used to not waiting for someone to walk in the door.
i mentioned that we spent all our time together. by together, i mostly mean together alone, or together in very large anonymous groups (like at bars, for example). this means that i did not spend time with anyone else. so, i’ve discovered that i know no one. my other labmates have gotten past the initial phase of trying to introduce me to the social scene and are no longer interested in hanging out with me. you’ll recall that i do not seek out friendship and like to spend time alone. while these things are true, they worry me a little. don’t i need a friend here, just one? all the activities i’m used to in my new city seem like they’d need more than just me. i would feel so weird walking into a bar alone.
the stated reason for the boy being here was that he wanted to get me out of my box. push my buttons until i explode. apparently those first few hours afer we met, he decided that i was terribly shut off from reality and particular about strange things. and he decided that he was going to help me fix that. (as if it were a problem.) so now i’m questioning my whole life. all the conversations we had, they’ve got my foundations shaken. they’ve got me noticing that i don’t really have foundations. they’ve got me wanting to change my life, to shake things up, and having no idea at all how to do that.
this, on top of the fact that my best friend’s never going to look at me the same way again. sort of feels like everything’s falling apart.

this is the boy. right before he left, at about four in the morning. well, the boy and me.
the boy.

it’s like a cigarette in the mouth
or a handshake in the doorway
i look at you and smile because i’m fine
.

i’m not sure how long this is going to last. i have a blog elsewhere, you see. and this site is definitely too advanced for me. i have neither the skill nor the motivation to do all the cool things it mants me to do. also, to warn: my posts are always very personal and seldom make sense to anyone who cannot read my mind. that said, i’m kind of liking the notion of a blog where i can continue to do what i do (make cryptic [maybe i won’t even make them cryptic anymore!], mostly boring posts about things that are on my mind) and not have anyone i know reading. why don’t i just get a paper journal, you ask. well, i have a fucking paper journal. these things are very different. trust me.

anyway.

there’s this girl, you see. and she’s really swell.
we’ve been best friends for three or four years now, and i realized a few months back that i am in love with her like nobody’s business. we recently graduated college and moved to places far away from one another, and i get it in my head that we’re never going to see each other again and i might as well tell her how i feel. so i send her a letter. she got it last friday. but she’s not ready to talk about it yet.
i’m pretty torn up about this. consumed by the feeling that i am wrecking our friendship and that it will never be the same again and that i am losing her. and my life without her in it is no good at all. us being physically separated these last few weeks has been excrutiating. it’s sort of hard to breathe. i talk to her on the phone almost every day, but i still feel like they’ve cut off my leg or something. like part of me is missing and i’m bleeding and i can’t function properly.
so i’ve been going a little crazy, as one might expect.

this is the girl. standing there being great. and me standing to her right basking in the glow.
the girl.

you’re the only thing that i love
scares me more every day
on my knees i think clearer
.

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