Home Alone

I love Saturdays around here because I am allowed to be alone in this space, to get a better feeling of what it all means these days. It's not that I haven't enjoyed the company of my family in the last month. That actually couldn't be further from the truth. But there's something different about the place when I'm the only one here. It's like it can tell me things that it's afraid to say in front of anyone else. It may be that I have a very good memory and that I experience intense visceral reactions to just about everything I feel, so being here alone lets me feel what's going on in the place (and what has gone on in the past) rather than feeling the energies of the people around me. I know this sounds a little crazy to some, but this is my experience of the world.

On Wednesday, my mom said my name for the first time, at least in my presence. It was so unexpected, in the tanning salon when she was telling the woman behind the counter whom to look up in the database. I think the most wonderful part of all this was that it was ordinary.

And I am now slightly disturbed by the spider chilling on my ceiling.

I am both excited and terrified by the possibility of graduate school. I shouldn't even say possibility at this point. I've made the decision to go for it without looking back. And I am also pretty grateful that Pitt will accept my MCAT scores so that I don't have to take the GRE. I'm trying not to worry too much about the specifics because they haven't even given me the application yet. If I were to give a name to this chapter of my life, I suppose it would be "Practicing Mindfulness."

Oh, this has nothing to do with anything, but I won a hundred dollars at the casino last weekend. I still have the hundred dollar bill. I feel silly that there is a part of me that wants to keep it because of the significance of that evening, only a fraction of which had to do with the actual cash winnings. But I do need the money, so a photograph should probably suffice. Still, it's been quite a long time since I've held a hundred dollar bill in my hands.

I feel that the regret that I can't seem to leave behind involves where I am at in my life. I didn't expect to be alone at almost 24. I didn't expect not to be able to take care of myself financially. I didn't expect to have to look for a house and do all this planning for my future all by myself, and I didn't expect to have to go to sleep with my arms around a cold pillow instead of a warm body. I am happy with myself, for the most part. I'm not where I expected to be at all, but I wouldn't change a thing because some recent events back here have led me to believe that this is exactly where I need to be right now. It's just a little lonely. One of the strangest and most isolating feelings in the world is having great news and no one with whom to share it. It's worse than not being able to have someone to bitch with. I do miss intellectual conversations and dreaming about the future and all of that mushy crap. No, I don't feel that something is missing, not anymore. It's not that simple, and unfortunately, I'm having trouble saying exactly what it means.

I'm reading a book about the co-evolution of language and the human brain, and I'm quite surprised by a lot of the author's theories, though they all make sense. It's given me a new perspective on the whole problem, and it directly challenges a lot of the assumptions made by Pinker and the like.

I love being able to read for fun again.

I have been sleeping so well for the last week or so. I don't think it's ever been this easy for me to fall asleep. Ever.

It's not any easier to find a job back here, unfortunately. I might be here until I can get myself into school. While I am missing everyone, I'm less inclined to believe that staying here would be catastrophic. If it were permanent, I would be worried. But then I would remind myself that the future doesn't exist anyway, and it's silly to get so worked up over fantasies.