Monday, September 21, 2009

A New Hampshire Wedding

In two weeks, my best friend from high school is going to be married. I still can't believe she invited me to the wedding. Although we were really close in high school, we haven't been what I would call friends since then.

I wrestled with myself about whether I should go to this wedding. I wanted to understand her motives for inviting me. I had decided against it until I read (in a blog) that the whole wedding involves around 50 people... a VERY intimate wedding. How could I NOT go? It must mean something to her for me to go if she invited so few people.

The whole thing makes me extremely anxious. First off, I'm not a wedding person. I hate social gatherings of any sort. Secondly, I won't know anyone there aside from her, her mother, her brother, and the friend that replaced me when she went to college (he doesn't like me). I'm leaving my family behind for three days and traveling to New England alone. The last time I traveled alone was when I was a senior in high school. That was nearly ten years ago.

I'm hoping this wedding will be nice and I get along with her new friends. They seem really different from me. Borderline hipster. I'm not hip. I don't do witty banter. I do sarcasm and snark. I'm scared they won't get me and I'll end up being alone the whole day. I just have to continually remind myself that it isn't about me. This whole weekend is about making Carey happy at all costs.

While I'm in the area, I am going to see my family in Boston. I'm really excited about that. This time will be all about reconnection. Reconnection to my long lost friend and reconnection to my forgotten family members. It's going to be good. I just have to trust that.

Monday, September 14, 2009

psychoanalyze this

So I was reading through one of my journals... invariably this story always comes up: The first dream I remember having. It was the dream I had after they brought my baby sister, Malissa, home from the hospital. Bear in mind, I was born in March '82 and my sister was born in November of '84. So I was approaching three at this point. But this dream was vivid as any experience I can remember having. We were living in Korea when my sister was born. In Korea, families sleep together on a floor mattress called a yo (sp?).

In my dream, I was situated nicely, all comfy and cozy, on my mother's right. She was sleeping to the right of my father. Everything was peaceful. Then all of the sudden, the baby sister descends slowly from the heavens and usurps me from my rightful place at my mother's side. This yo was too narrow for the both of us and I roll out from under the heavy, "mink" blanket. The dream culminates in me freezing to death on that bitterly cold November night.

How fucking deep for a 2 year old's dream, huh? I've never forgotten it. This dream is engraved in my psyche. Needless to say, I did try to dispatch my sister several times during my childhood... but circumstances always kept me from accomplishing my goal. I wonder if all eldest children have felt this way or if I am just particularly crazy. Again, I apologize for my psychoness. I've noticed it is a theme that runs throughout my blogs.

Thursday, September 10, 2009


I never sit in the grass
Looking at clouds
I see the world in charts and graphs
I stare at screens
At numerical patterns
Another day
Another puzzle
The pieces at my feet
Disasters awaiting my logical solution
I am a solver

Books, papers, reports
Clamoring to be read
Things must be considered

My only escape is sleep
When I close my eyes
My handicaps don't matter
I can sing, drink, laugh...
Here I can see
Without logic to impede my sight

Awake, my eyes seem only capable of recognizing sober colors
Navy blues, browns, grays, blacks...
The pretty wing of a butterfly
Doesn't shatter me
Instead I ponder the taxonomy
Of this curious thing and its wing

Everything is reduced to a science
Organic, inorganic,
Soulwise, I feel like a dead thing

I'm jealous of those that see magic
Through pictures, I see
How they view the world
Without precision or calculation
No need for maps or goals
Living an end in itself
It must be nice