(no introductions, i’ll just jump in here)
pulling into roanoke this morning after another spontaneous and brilliant and well deserved “i’ll just wing it one more night in NC and just leave at dawn the next morning and totally make it to school ten minutes before my first class,” i was met by a surreal haze of smoke and falling ash. the mountains were edged with white smoldering clouds. it was like something had exploded; like i had stepped into a fireplace when i stepped out of the car at the cheapest gas station to feed the gas light just a little bit.
apparently i missed quite a night here in the valley by opting to stay in NC; all the bitter winds and blackened mountains lined with orange flames. when i finally collapsed into my room today after running on mismanaged adrenaline and copious amounts of sugar for upwards of five hours, i could see the remnants of the fires slowly fading away. the one thing i do like about this new shoe-box of a room: the view. even after living with front quad at my bed-side, even though this room is appx 8×11, i still prefer the rolling hills and the solitude living alone provides. i guess being the only girl in a two-child home spoiled me to the idea of having my own room, my own space. i put up with roommates because, well, that’s college. but now that the option of solo living is offered, i’m all about it.
i stuck around the writing center tonight just talking like i hadn’t before; talking so candidly with someone new and not hitting the “can i trust you?” wall, well it somewhat restored my faith in humanity, which is something i haven’t been getting these days aside from hand-held confessionals and late night phone calls. i still have friends, i explained, and this sounds conceited but– it’s just that i’ve never had enemies before, you know? it’s not conceited to say, she assured, and we went on to talk about the difficulties of divorcing yourself from bad relationships (romantic or otherwise); the inherent bravery in just silently picking up and leaving.
the talk was refreshing to say the least; this is conceited to say, but it’s nice sometimes to have a fresh set of ears on a problem (one of the writing center mantras, nonetheless, so i guess we technically did some work tonight after all). it’s not even a problem anymore i suppose. like the brush fires, the ’situation’ was this scary fiery dramatic mess on top of a mountain of issues, but in the smoldering aftermath it left puffs of smoke, ashes falling like snowflakes, a surreal beauty (someone said eloquently, ‘this is so sick but like, it was beautiful to see the fingers of the flames on the mountains,’), just another notch in my ever-expanding ‘college experience.’
i had this flickering thought today that i don’t want a serious job at all. i’ve never wanted to teach (unfortunately, the first thing people think of when i say “yes, i’m an English major,”). my main thought was publishing, an editor, but the problem with my life is that i am neither cut-throat nor ambitious. i don’t want to be alpha dog, or the top of the ladder. i’d rather not be someone’s boss. i like the idea of proofreading manuscripts because it delays the inevitable, “where’s your manuscript,” (invariably the second thing people think to ask.)
i am not ready for class tomorrow (or wednesday)
but i am certainly ready to go get married and do something impulsive like open a record store with my boyfriend.
or learn how to develop pictures.
or play keyboard in a twee pop band.
or write screenplays.
something. i’ll figure it out later.
