So Caught Up in the Reasons Why

I need changes. My body aches with stasis. I shop. I spend too much money. I buy clothes that I can’t wear yet; although the afternoon light has changed, become more golden, more burnished, the weather is still too warm for my cute fitted button-downs over camis, my caramel cords, my preppy penny loafers. Forgetting my plans to stop, I dye my hair, darker this time, a warm golden shade of brown that’s probably closer to its natural hue than it’s been in years.

I should have gone to the lake today, spent time with Suz, whom I haven’t seen for two months now, but I made excuses not to make the short trip. The weather today has finally cooled down a bit; the sky hung heavy with raindrops that couldn’t bother themselves to fall. More lonely around people than by myself lately, I skipped the coffee shop and read in my car in a parking lot. Three Junes, a novel recommended by someone I admire. Its rich, sincere emotions have wrapped themselves around my soul. I sequestered myself in my room and spent the evening reading.

At the grocery store with my mother earlier, between an argument, dropping a can of vegetables on my sandalled foot, and an idle conversation about some old classmates of mine, I blurted out this ridiculous, melodramatic declaration: “This place has a way of drawing us all back, like an evil magnet.”

My mother’s reply: “There’s nothing wrong with having a place to belong to.”

“I don’t belong here,” I said, and I know that it’s true.

“Where do you belong, then?” she said, and I wondered if she was hurt, if it bothers my family to know that the place they call home isn’t the place I want to be forever.

I told her I belonged in a city. Chicago, specifically. “It’s not you guys; I do feel at home with my family. But Roanoke? I don’t fit right here. I know my way around, but it doesn’t feel like the place where I need to be.”

She reminded me that I’m young, that I won’t be here forever, and I have years to figure out where I want to go. She’s right, of course.

“People can live anywhere, for awhile,” I said, and then she said she had to be getting home and she drove away and I got in my car, and went to pick up my sister. I was almost bothered that it had finally begun to rain enough to require windshield wipers.

This is all so fucking odd, I know.

Comments 9

  • odd? maybe. fucking odd? that's a bit of a stretch.

    it's monday morning and i'm going to work.

  • If this were before your promotion, the choice might have been a bit easier. Now that you are a director, that gives pause to consider. What do you really want to achieve and in what environment (e.g., professionally, socially, culturally, geographically [warm south vs. cold north, etc])? Do you like places where people are relaxed and friendly, or uptight and almost borderline hostile? Where could you begin your masters at night? Go to a play/concert? Become involved in one or more pursuits that stretch you? … “First, have a definite, clear practical ideal; a goal, an objective. Second, have the necessary means to achieve your ends; wisdom, money, materials, and methods. Third, adjust all your means to that end.”
    — Aristotle

  • jesus christ, will, i thought i got rid of you.

  • no kidding? I'm afraid I didn't see it that way. And still don't… “What we see depends mainly on what we look for.”
    Sir John Lubbock 1834-1913, British Statesman, Naturalist

  • still doing that ' using quotes out of context to replace any actual thought' thing, huh?

  • If you check back, you'll discover than I indeed have provided considerable original thought, more on average than even yourself. Go ahead, i'll wait …. … … Perhaps hurried through the previous quote. The context you perceive depends upon what you want to see, as well as your overall understanding of the quote's intent to begin with. On the other hand, you wanted us to think of you in the context of Ping, with which I have no prior background, so I have to create an anthropological model of one. You seem to be in character, though :-)

  • oh will, you' re such a card. what it comes down to really, is not so much my simple- minded envy of one older and more worldly than i, but rather, my annoyance at someone who hangs around a much younger girl' s diary leaving condescending and pretentious little comments after most of her entries. the whole monkey thing was to illustrate that while others may be too polite and non- confrontational to mention this to you, i am not.

  • Ok, several points here. …
    1. From Merriam Webster; “Card – a usually clownish amusing person.” Actually, I consider that a compliment. …

    2. If you review my postings, you'll see that I've not made a single one to Lorie that was condescending. …

    3. Who cares what the age of someone is here? Others here are much older than I. Unless perhaps you are proposing some sort of discrimination… …
    4. You may think of Lorie as a “younger girl” but from my reading, it's obvious she is a full grown woman, so I choose to communicate on that level. You are free to use any other means. …

  • 1) the concept of sarcasm is clearly lost on you. 2) it seems that you do not see lorie as a peer ( thus my comment about age) , as you are consistently giving her advice in a condescending tone. perhaps you don' t see it as such, but i do. but hey, if you and lorie are pals, far be it from me to say anything.

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