So I'm a little concerned. My math professor enjoys tangents. I'm not quite sure if he does this for the students sake or for his own entertainment. Or maybe he truly is dealing with deep disconcerting issues by sharing them publicly with his class. Either way - it makes class worth going to, if not for the math. It's like watching t.v. - his character is amusing and slightly over-produced. I was fine with all his public declarations until the other day when he said something that struck fear to the center of me. He revealed through some playful banter with a student, that asked about getting our exams back, that he was from the East coast. He proceeded in the rest of his response, concerning our exams, to make up absurd excuses and finally in a mock break-down rant about how he took the weekend off and how if he were back East they would all choke and say things like "take a day off? You'll ruin your life and get no where". Yikes. I figured he wasn't joking about that last part.
Why would that scare me, you ask? Why would work scare me? Well, it doesn't. I actually love it and may sometimes even go overboard with my work if I enjoy it or see that I'm making progress. When it comes to work, I love to compete - with myself. I'm not the best standard - but it works, especially if I'm good at something. The way I handle life is the reason I have succeeded at anything (albeit those successes may be mediocre to others). But, I don't work well with fear as a motivator. I'm already fearful of finding a job in New York. Let alone succeeding in a job if I find one. Aside from that, I'm the type that needs to take breaks. Every six months I need at least three days where I don't have to do ANYTHING. This East coast mentality scares me.
Warning: the following may consist of a long, and possibly unimpressive/boring rant about my past . . just working things out.
But only recently have I been like this. In high school I was on scholarship at a dance studio, took A.P. courses, held two part-time jobs, and interned at various places for six months at a time. My first year of college was a breeze but I still worked quite a bit and tried to keep up with dance. The second year I took 20+ hours a semester, held two jobs, and danced. The third year I went part time at school while I worked two jobs (maybe three?) and danced with Odyssey II but took a summer semester. I should have graduated then. But fearful that what I had wasn't enough, I continued with my PS degree.
After my third year of college I was burnt out. I was confused. My friends were moving on, leaving me - by plane or marriage. I wanted more than what I had. I didn't know what it was though, it wasn't moving and it wasn't marriage. In attempt to feel satisfied with life I filled my schedule to the point where I didn't have time to breathe as I ran from one place to another. Aside from school and work, I began The Contemporary Movement, held a benefit concert, danced with Transfusion Hype, and received a dance offer from stiletto entertainment that I thought would give me the change I was looking for. It was the best company of it's type, they offered the best contract from what I had heard, I would be getting great pay, all my transportation and living costs would be paid in l.a. and abroad, and I would be the ballerina (albeit on a luxury cruise line) dancing three nights a week and seeing the world for the remaining days. I was ecstatic about the opportunity - even if other people didn't consider it a great accomplishment. A series of strange events altered my decision to go. The moment I received a call from the agent I told I them I would go. She said she would give me a few days regardless, as the contract was something of a binding sort - but would go ahead and mail it. In the days after my excitement turned to doubt - a really strong doubt that confused me. I realize now that the doubt I felt was a type of internal conflict. But I was in denial about it to the point that I was confused. I wanted to try to clarify my thoughts enough to convince myself that it was something I should do. I knew that I was being told not to go - but my desire to go was so strong. I couldn't find that certainty that I had felt before. I left for California with friends and left the agent to herself for far longer than I should have. In the end I obviously didn't go. I don't understand the relationship between fate and free agency - or if I even believe in fate. But I met John that October. I had waved and smiled at him for two years - and he chose that year to finally talk to me.
My attachment to John was far beyond anything I had experienced or believed I was capable of. It wasn't fear that held me to John. The conditions for our relationship were never contrived or lead by harmful motives. Which I had definitely experienced before. No one was against our relationship and no one was really for it to be honest. We were just dating. I had never considered what love was before I met John, and for months after our engagement I struggled define it. It came so clearly and easily for him. Something that baffled me then and still does to this day. At the beginning of out courtship John and I saw each other everyday for three weeks (I think) at which point there came a day when our schedules were too busy where we couldn't even see each other for a few minutes on campus. I vividly recall parking in front of the Marriott Center for Dance before technique class and just sitting in my car after my conversation with John on the phone. I felt as if the sky had darkened and the pine trees around me had grown ominously large and gloomy. The students voices faded and I felt utterly lonely. Before that point - I had only had felt fleeting moments of loneliness. Once as a child for friendship, in China for my family on Christmas, and the others for a half hour every New Years Eve from ages twenty-one to twenty-two. I let that loneliness I felt in the car last for a split second and hurried into class. I attempted to forget that feeling all day - avoiding the thought that I was becoming just another one of those clingy girls. But I've asserted to this day that it wasn't out of fear like I had seen with many others. But an actual biological attachment. My mind and body go through physical stress without John. And if he is gone for an amount of time it takes me a while to readjust when he returns. It's an odd thing to experience. Love, has yet to be defined for me. I'm sure it will all be very clear when I'm older and wiser. But I known that I'm attached to John, that in the lyricism of others "I can't live" without him for very long. Although I can't define love, familial or romantic, I sometimes wonder who loves who more. I'm sure people would shame me immediately for thinking such a thing. Why should it matter, right? And levels of love change over time, even if it can't be measured empirically. I just hope that one day I can say I love John more - because at that point I will know the definition of love. I will stop being the idiot I am every day and be able to list all the many reason I love John. Because right now, saying I love John because he helps me do the laundry, kills spiders even though he's more frightened of them than me, cooks for me, works for me, and thinks of me - doesn't seem enough. Love is far more grandiose to express it in such terms. I guess that is my folly - an immature one too. Yes, love is in the simple things. That I love John because he loves me doesn't seem right either. But I realize every day more and more that I live to love him because he lives to love me. Why is that wrong? It isn't desperate or base. Why can't serving one another and letting our love grow not as beautiful as something found in the movies. That is something I can understand - something that I believe leads to joy.
I'm not quite sure if I made any sense in this post. I'm too tired to go back and read for clarity. I'm not even quite sure why I ended up writing what I did - or what I wrote for that matter. I'm being redundant. Anyways. Life if short and I'm wasting it by not studying. I believe that was the entire reason I began writing. Sad thing is, when friends of mind write these types of blogs they note it at the beginning of the blog so that readers can jump to the ending - but I can't do that because I really have no conclusion of any sort. Here's my attempt at one:
1. I'm afraid my work ethic isn't strong enough for the East coast mentality.
2. I used to be kind of successful (in my own terms) because I pushed myself but now am burnt out.
3. I have motivation to do more now because I fear failure but am frightened that I will tire quickly and end things too soon. Thus, I haven't started anything and just sit at home worrying.
4. Reminisced about college carreer.
5. Reminisced about opportunities past.
6. Recalled that it was all to meet John - even if I'm not sure it was fate.
7. Blathered on about love like some drunken Frenchman. Ah, oui, c'est l'amour.
There's my sad attempt at concluding. And now I leave you all confused and lacking. Go read granollasdodallas.blogspot.com or michelleglauser.blogspot.com or taza-and-husband.blogspot.com. They will all fill your procrastination needs as they have mine.
