Friday, September 24, 2010

Not Everybody Talks

I am not maternal. I would not categorize myself under "caregiver" and when I walk into a room, I cannot sense what mood someone is in. I am in my own world and I have always figured, that is okay. When I need to talk, I do. I figured, everyone else speaks up when they need to, too. I am wrong, of course.

Luckily, when it is really, really quiet it occurs to me, the other person has interiority too. It strikes me, like a bible smacking me on the head. "Wake UP! You're Selfish!"

Tonight it was very, very quiet. In our kitchen. 1 am. My roommate massaged her own feet while I grilled a burger.
"We're both quiet because we're taking care of our own shit" I thought.

But it was quiet. And I considered that my roommate is from Japan. That she only just moved to his city of sin, this enormous city, a few months ago. She hasn't made friends yet. She has no family here.

"How are you?" I asked. She said she was fine. Twenty minutes later, after silence she put down her feet and she said "I am overwhelmed."

She wouldn't have told anyone that this night if I hadn't asked.

Does it have to be the dead of night for me to notice that somebody else may need something? How do you hone your skills at reading other people?

Wednesday, September 22, 2010

Split Personality

I can't believe how long it has been since I've posted. Well actually, I can.

It is scary to know what you want to do. It is scary to know what you want.

I go through periods during which I REFUSE to admit that I am a dreamer. I go through periods during which I tell people that I would be perfectly happy, excuse me, SO happy to just have a job in an office when I graduate. And I tell people that I am lucky, because I'll be happy doing just about anything.

I am lying. I am just afraid of the truth.

For some people, security works. It not only works, it is their ultimate goal. Their dream. I can understand that. If you came from a broken home where, say, your parents were raging alcoholics who drunkenly ranted about becoming an artist some day or had a new "invention" every day and "god damnit, that was my idea!" when they saw it on the televesion....if THAT was your childhood then of course, the Dreamer type becomes not so glamorous. Paying your bills and tucking your kid into bed, every day, feels like a dream come true in itself. And a 9 to 5 job is an absolutely respectable way to get that.

I could come up with a million scenarios as to why a person would be happy with stability and never even dream of much more.

But the thing is, I am not one of those people. I have been applying for internships as an editor, fact checker, researcher etc....but all for Offices. To be on a Staff.

I love my readers. So much. Many of them are women twice my age who are not writers by trade, many of whom I get the feeling have no plans of becoming one. But I believe that many of you have already found your personal happiness.

Now I am not saying it is EVER too late. It NEVER is. But I am 21 years old and it is sure as Hell not too late for me to become a writer by trade.

It is a never ending struggle to both appreciate the simple things and strive for the extraordinary. But I am going to go have a beer with my roomies now. It will always be important to me to have good friends to have a beer with and a steady, 9 to 5 job would certainly ensure that.

But while i have this beer, I'm going to dream of the extraordinary. Like publishing a book, or having my own column. I think it's possible to have it all. :)