By the time I'd grown up, I naturally supposed that I'd be grown up.
--Eve Babitz
I've developed a strange habit where I don't like to sit still on the beach (to be perfectly honest, I don't really like to sit still anywhere). I've gotten so used to just walking along the beach, drinking in the sights and sounds, when I go with Chris, that I can't imagine doing anything else while I'm there. Emily spread out her towel, lotioned up, and the just laid there. Like she had passed out. Not moving, except to make sure she was cooked evenly on both sides. Just there. I tried that for about five minutes. Couldn't do it. Brutal fail. So I announced what direction I would be heading if she need me, and I went. With no cell phone, no book, no mp3 player. It was me, the birds, God, the sand, and the sea. My gosh. There is something about nature--about water in particular--that boils my blood with a strange, maddening passion and energy. My mind snaps back and forth, processing at hundreds of miles per hour, it feels like. I see everything and nothing at all. Hear everything. My senses piqued. I desperately want to just melt into it, be a part of that glorious chaotic order. I don't leave the water when I'm walking. My feet are always wet, sometimes up to my knees. I'll do everything I can to stay in the water. It's very odd. When I was little, I wanted so desperately to be a mermaid (then I found out they were real, so I decided I would be the next Jodi Benson, the voice of the Little Mermiad .... ummm ... yeah no), and I think that's still in there, somewhere. Except the sea hates me. It lures me in, something in me aching for it, and then it turns me over and spits me out and tries to yank my top off. Yeah. Thanks. I love you too, rip currents ... or whatever you were. The one day I really dove in, Georgia came along. She and Emily, at my pleading, FINALLY budged from tanning and quickly jumped in. Now, I'll be totally honest here: I'm a wuss. No, seriously. I HATE cold water. And it was pretty cold. So while they're splashing away like dophlins, I'm easing myself in, slowly adjusting. Then the sea took care of that and pushed me over and under. I finally pop up, gasping for breath, and there are Georgia and Emily waaaaaaay out there, Emily plodding straight on ahead and Georgia giving me that confused pitying but almost amused look she throws at me so often. So I struggle to my feet and try again. Fail ... again .... and again .... each time I could have sworn I'd lost my swimsuit, but, nope, good ole Target top was a fighter, and thank goodness. We finally made it to a place where it wasn't too rough, and I continued paddling to keep up with my friends. So I'm finally comfy, safe, and happy .... then the jellyfish got me. Thank you jellies. You know that they don't have brains??? They're just floating gobs of goo with poisoned tentacles (best cure, proven by Mythbusters--vodka poured on and then brushing the sting). So yeah, I feel like I lived dangerously. ^_^
I spent that weekend at Georgia's in her amazing, big wealthy house that seems to have everything either super-sized or amazing (no, seriously, they have a spoon and fork that are four-feet long hanging on their kitchen wall ... no joke .... the TV's huge, the beds are AMAZING--like sleeping on a cloud where your body makes a dent you can't roll out of not that you want to anyways, and the pool's salt-water ... why I don't know but it is). Em and I got to hang out with Em's sister, Sarah, and Georgia's boyfriend, Matt, which was fun. Em, Georgia, and I went out to sushi--it would be violating the laws of nature for the three of us not to have sushi togther. I don't know if I can really describe the whole weekend on paper. It was more just a mood rather than events. Georgia and I caught up, which was really nice because we hadn't seen each other in a year. Emily was quiet most of the weekend. She's been quiet a lot lately. There are so many things rolling through her mind that's she's trying to sort out all at once and things just get more tangled and she feels worse rather than better. I wish I knew how to help.
On the way back, I wasn't paying attention and Emily missed an exit, so our four-and-a-half-hour drive became seven hours long. Yup. It was easy enough to fix. I had told Em the directions, then told her I was going to read the new Ted Dekker book Jessie had lent me (The Lost Books series, if anyone's interested--great, fun reads). When I double checked the directions more than an hour later, I realized that we had been driving on the same high way for more than five miles, like the directions said .... so we turned around, drove nearly two hours in the right direction, and finally corrected our course. Poor Em felt horrible, and I was bottling stress for a little bit just because, despite my love of long car rides, I was ready to be back to school early in the evening to hang out with friends and relax. Yeah .... that didn't happen. But it's all good because we made it safe and sound and without any other complications.
But yeah, that was Pensecola. Woo-hoo!
School continues. Pottsie scared the bee-jeebers out of me Wednesday--told us that he was less than satsified with our midterms and was giving us 45 minutes to redeem ourselves: we would have to go to the library, research, and correct as many answers as we could AND list sources for our corrections. Oh joy. Randle caught us on our way out, grinned, and muttered, "Spank! Spank! Spank!" while pantamiming and laughing. For some strange reason, that made me feel better. At least someone could joke about it .... that and Randle's my favorite professor. The man's a bloody genius. Once at the library, I was ready to explode or cry or both. I answered about four questions, maybe five, I can't remember, I was so nervous and wallowing in the depths of despair. Turns out I got an 80 (before the new answers) and a A- on a paper, so all my worries were for naught. That feels nice. Other than that, like I said, school is school.
I finished my first sculpture. I'm calling it "The Thinker Revisited: 2000)
I am surrounded by marital bliss. Our first day in Pensecola, there were two weddings. On the same beach. At the same time. I was caught walking between them and would stand awkwardly, trying to see if either of the happy couples happened to be two people I knew from MC, and hoping that photographer didn't capture a pale, bikini-ed, red-headed phantom lurking around in the background. It was pleasant, but still put a strange pit in my stomach. I love weddings, but I can't quite get over the fact that kids my age are marrying ... or, stranger yet, that I'm of marrying age. Don't get me wrong: I can't wait to be married, it's just weird realizing that we're finally old enough to do that.
And another friend got married: Yay Sara!!!!
And another friend got engaged!!!!!!: CONGRATS JENNY!!!!!
Like I said: still can't wrap my mind around the fact that my friends--peers, fellow kid-adult-things, whatever we are--are getting hitched. Tying the knot. Binding themselves to another for life. Preparing for procreation . . . wow, I make marriage sound like fun, don't I? -.^ lol. I think it's fantastic .... I just can't really comprehend/believe that it's finally happening to my buddies. Like Jenny ...I mean, really, Jenny's known me since we were born--she was always my big-sister kind of friend, best friend through all of middle school where we practically lived at each other's houses and were addicted to the ABC version of Roger's and Hammerstein's Cinderella starring Brandi and Whitney Houston .... and Catherine forced us to play "bride" (hmmmm) then shot us with a toy shot gun when we didn't go to sleep like she commanded ("Babies, I'm sorry but I'm gonna have to shoot you now" we couldn't even feign the terror through our laughter) or the time when Catherine called the Barbie police because Jenny's Barbie was prettier than hers ... and Jenny got me to take a shortcut to her friend's by climbing a fence and I got my dress caught ... hanging upside down ... yeah it happened folks ... I watched Jenny give her first cheerleading routines .... I also thought she was into witchcraft at one point because I saw she had a folder labeled "Good Witch"--turns out she was playing Glinda in her school's production of The Wizard of Oz. Whew. I could go on ... but I won't put you through that -.^ And now, she's getting married. I mean ... where did the time go?!?! When did my Barbie-buddy become eligible for marriage?? a woman even! When did I? Am I?
I talked to Julie today for the first time since I left for school. Julie's not much for long distance communication, and I've grown weary of chasing her down, but we still get along well, and, usually once or twice a semester, I decide to call her and see how's she's been, just to let her know that I've been thinking of her and keep the friendship alive ... or at least on life support or something. She says that her house has been overrun with presents and that she and Ryan have everything they've asked for, for the most part, save silverware: "We don't have a single piece of silverware," she said, laughing, "I guess we'll just have to eat with our fingers!" Even for Julie, the blushing bride-to-be, the reality of marriage hasn't really set in. She says that everything's coming together beautifully, and she's extremely excited, but she almost can't believe that it's really happening. She and Ryan will start moving into their little house next week. Wow. So exciting, and so strange. I'm getting really excited for her--like the silly, fun girly giggly explosive exciting. Who knows ... I may even cry at the wedding. Wow, that would be something, lol.
Anyways, can't think of much else to say. Like I said, school, continues. Work continues. I sleep, I eat, I play. Nothing too thrilling. I have a new movie quote that describes my existence. From "Almost Famous" : "Dude, I'm always home. I'm uncool."
Amen, brother. Amen.
Well, this is Pete the Petey, over and out.
You stay classy, San Diego.
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