“Morbid and creepifying, I got no problem with, long as she does it quiet-like.”

I know that, in blogosphere land, 10 days = forever…sorry I’ve been absent. Things are a bit mad right now, and I’m trying to sort through all of it to find some clarity.

When does this get easier? I’m not asking out of any kind of desperation; I’m not feeling especially down or emo or whatever you want to call it. God, I hope it’s not emo. I can’t stand that word. I don’t even really know what it means, except that it’s usually attributed to those who have an excessive amount of self pity, and I really don’t think I’m ever that. Anyway, no, not depressed or anything. I’m just tired. Classes are great, most of the time. Half of the time. I love two out of the four, but I feel like such a twit. I’m one of the younger people in there, and I have the distinct feeling that everyone knows something I don’t. Like…there was a class when the teacher explained the Almighty Answer, but I was home that day with an exceptionally awful case of chicken pox, and no one bothered to take notes that I could copy. My personal life….I don’t know, sometimes I don’t think I’m a very good friend. I know that people drift in and out of each others lives, because that’s just the way of things. I just wonder if I could be doing something differently. And it’s not that I don’t love the people I do have. It’s just a complicated dynamic. I’m still obsessing about my weight, but that’s nothing new. Work….work is fantastic, actually. I love the kids. I love the families. The parents are all very sweet to me. It’s so nice, seeing everyone there together. I know that no one’s family is perfect, and I have no idea what happens when they’re all at home. But for a few hours, I get to watch mothers and fathers with their babies, completely content with each other. All happy to be there. A normal, happy family. It’s so rare. Most people seem all fucked up and broken in one way or another. I mean, we all are, in our own little ways. I guess I like that an hour or two with bubbles and parachutes can make us forget.

I was going to wait until after I saw RENT to post about this next bit, because there’s a kind of thematic relevancy, but it’s been pressing on my mind more and more. The closer I get to some people, the more I feel like Mark. For those of you who don’t know the show, he’s the one of the few characters without AIDS. Which means that he has to watch his friends die. Death has always been a big part of my life. All four of my grandparents were dead before I started kindergarten, and some of my earliest memories are of funerals. Been to two wakes, because I’m Irish and that’s what we do. So it’s not like death is anything that freaks me out. But there are some times when I remember that almost all of my close friends are at least ten years older than me. Mostly male. Which means, unless something happens to me first, I will probably be the last one. I’m going to have to watch these people, whom I love beyond all time and space and reason…this isn’t a responsibility that I signed up for. And I know normal people don’t think about this kind of thing, and it’s probably very sick and morbid, but I KNOW that each and every person has wondered at least once about who’s going to show up at their own funeral. So if I’m the last one…you get the gist. That right there? That’s my biggest fear. Also the only real secret I had left. Fancy that.

I’ve written almost 700 freaking words in about half an hour. Why can’t I ever do that for an assignment? Someday, a professor is going to tell me to be all dark and twisty and creepifying for five pages, and then I’ll be absolutely GOLDEN.

One last thing, so as not to end on a completely horrific note. I have this adorable box that I bought at Sidecca ages ago. It’s a mini trunk, about the size of an old-school lunch box, with a Bettie Page pattern on it. I adore the thing, but I haven’t the slightest idea what to put in it. Any thoughts?

4 Responses to ““Morbid and creepifying, I got no problem with, long as she does it quiet-like.””

  1. Elana E Says:

    Yes, it does get easier. Yes, you will make other friends that will be your age and younger. Yes, we all feel like we’ve missed that day in school sometimes. No, you won’t die alone.

    Morbid days are fine, but make sure you find balance too and have ridiculously happy days too. Go stand in the rain and skip. You can’t be sad and skip!

  2. Sara Says:

    I don’t know if this will help at all, but as you get older you will get more friends that are younger than you are. When I was your age, I was in the same boat: almost all of my friends were older than I. Now, although I still have friends that are older, I also have friends (like you!) that are so much younger I feel like I should be a grandma!

  3. Ex Boyfriend Says:

    The style of writing is very familiar . Have you written guest posts for other bloggers?

  4. Andi Says:

    I had a post for Rebecca Woolf’s “Portrait of an Economy”, but that’s my only guest blog.

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