spatial relation

It’s done. I’ve left. When I get back, there won’t be snow on the ground. I’m glad I got to go sledding before I left, even though my pants are still damp from the excursion. I’m sure no one on the plane can tell. Not that I care. I got to go sledding and they didn’t.

The plane. I’m at the point of no return. I’m sad. Really, really sad. On the other hand, I sure do like plane rides. There’s something so fascinating about seeing clouds on their own terms. It’s a little like going to a good friend’s house for the first time. You see them every day, but it’s always at some neutral location, like work, or school, or the bus stop. Clouds are much bigger in their own home.

Right. So, I’ve left. Am I ready? Not at all. I don’t know how anyone can be ready for something they’ve never done before. Scratch that. Astronauts can. Aside from astronauts, I don’t know how anyone can truly be prepared for a new experience. At least I’m prepared for this flight. I’ve taken long flights before and I am ready for this one.

6 hours later…

I’m still on this plane and I’m getting mighty sick of the view. No offense, Clouds. You have a lovely home, I just think I may have overstayed my welcome

One Year Later...

... we find our heroine sitting in her apartment, furiously pecking away at her keyboard because she still hasn't learned how to touch-type. One year later, she is still in school, pursuing her undergrad degree, although she now has a sense of urgency that never existed before her 27th birthday. She gazes around at her surroundings, fondly reminiscing about the day she moved in, one year ago.

She silently catalogs the minor shifts and changes that were never made.

"Those curtains still need to be lined."
"The front hall's closet door is still broken."
"That picture still needs to be hung."

She notes the changes that were made, and she is quietly triumphant.

"I like that new bedspread."
"Those flower boxes are nice."
"I'm so glad I changed that rug."

Minor accomplishments and small defeats color her memories from the past year of existing in this residence. She is still single and lonely. She still smokes more than she'd like to admit. She has learned more than three chords on her guitar, but she has retired the keyboard (for the time being). She has switched jobs three times and changed her name once, only to change it back, almost immediately. She has cultivated a love for cooking and cleaning, though she still loathes doing her dishes. She eats better. She laughs more. She wakes up early and remembers birthdays. She writes regularly. She hates what she writes semi-regularly. She makes attempts to get paid for writing, but she is convinced that everyone else hates what she writes also.

She has lived in this apartment for one year, today. For the moment, she is pleased with the past year and is looking forward to another. She wishes they hadn't raised the rent on her. This next year had better be worth it. She expects it will.

in case of emergency

what a fiasco! oy.

after my usual thursday of working at the magazine, going to school and taking my midterms, i offered to drive my friend and a few other guys from Engineers Without Borders to the airport at 2am to catch their flight to Guatemala. we made pretty good time, and everyone seemed really excited about the trip. hell, i was excited FOR them.

after dropping them off and saying our farewells, i made my way out of O'Hare, slowly, due to the snow that had started to fall. then my phone rang.

"Someone forgot their malaria pills."

CRAP. i turned right back around, and picked him up. he was so sweet and apologetic. now, i'm all for over-apologizing when i think i'm putting someone out, but fer cryin' out loud, YOU NEED YOUR MALARIA PILLS.

it was a long night, but i was more than happy to help out. he'd better not have gotten malaria, damnit.

Do Unto Others...

I have always been a fan of The Golden Rule, and enjoyed the simplicity of such a fundamental moral principle. I have, however, discovered that it needs to be amended. "Treat others as you would like to be treated," is all well and good, if you treat yourself well to begin with. If you don't, then maybe there's a need for a Silver Rule, or a Bronze Rule, in which one can begin to practice being good.

Maybe the Silver Rule should be, "Treat yourself as you would like to be treated." That's simple. Self-explanatory. Perhaps a bit self-indulgent, but what's the harm in doing something nice for yourself? I keep meeting people that just don't give themselves the credit they deserve for simply being alive. It's not easy. I'm not being pessimistic, but I do think that more people need to take a step backwards, give themselves a long, hard look and say, "Hey. I'm okay. In fact, I really like myself." And then they should get a hug. And maybe a medal.

As far as a Bronze Rule goes, that might be a little trickier. There are some problems with the Golden Rule, but the biggest problem might be the expectations of reciprocity. If I expected everyone to treat me the way that I try to treat them, I would probably end up pretty disappointed. Perhaps the Bronze Rule should go a little like this: "Be as good as you can possibly be." If everyone was as good as they allowed themselves to be, then they could treat themselves as well as they thought they deserved, hence, the Silver Rule.

this gets complicated, but only if you forget what "good" actually is.

it's hard to remember what's good, but i believe that we forget only because we get caught up in defining what's bad. there's an awful lot that's bad for us. in case you forgot, consult your Bible. or the Surgeon General. we're told that anything and everything is bad for us, whether it be ultra-violet rays, carbohydrates, pre-marital sex, talk radio, Europeans or chocolate. how bad can chocolate really be?

This post has gotten slightly convoluted. Here's the breakdown: "Be good. Then be good to yourself. THEN, go for the gold." Remember, you deserve it.