Can't sleep and Serenity

Bah! I couldn't sleep (too much caffeine, too late in the day), and I had half a dozen things running through my head that seemed like they'd make good topics for posts. The only one I can remember, now that I've dragged myself out of bed and turned on the laptotp is: I watched Serenity today while working out. It's the third (fourth?) time I've seen it. (Um, spoiler, if anyone is actually reading this, and you haven't seen Serenity, don't read the next bit.)




Ok? Ok. So, you would think, knowing that Wash is going to die, I wouldn't cry this time, right? Well, you'd be wrong. In fact, because I knew he was going to die, I started crying before it actually happened! How silly is that? But I hear the line "I am a leaf on the wind. Watch how I soar," and I just lose it.

And that... was really not worth posting about. It always takes me a bit to get back into the swing of things when I start blogging again. It's the awkward phase where I sort of remember how to do this, but not exactly. Like roller-skating. My brain says "We know how to do this, it's just been a while," and my body says, "What the hell, man? Don't know what brain's talking about, but clearly, crazy!" Except, you know, it's a little less painful to fall down here. It'll get better.

Still here, still sorting

So, I've been wanting to write here again lately. It just feels weird, picking up again after so long. It seems as if I should somehow start an entirely new space... but I've done that before. Then I spend all my creativity on making/designing a new blog (or imagining what it should be like when my html isn't up to speed). It's silly. I start thinking about it because I need or want to write, and then don't actually do it. So... we'll keep the same old, same old as far as design goes (because I am, obviously, plural) and just launch into writing.

Desperately busy

I have so many things I'd really like to sort out, but I simply don't have the time. I have 2 major exams this week (both tomorrow), and I'm not prepared for either. I have a lab exam the following week, and then finals after that. I have to turn in college applications by Friday, just in case we don't move out of state by this fall, and come up with the money in order to cover the application fees. I have to tutor for far too many hours, go to a birthday party this weekend, visit my step-mother-in-law at the new facility she's recovering in, prepare to teach Sunday school, actually teach Sunday school, get the laundry done, the grocery shopping... ok, I'm just making myself more frantic. Classes will be over in about 2 weeks, and I'll definitely have time to post then. I'll be able to talk some issues through, and that will be good. I'm dreading the upcoming holidays, truthfully. It's just so hard not being able to talk to my parents.

Well, I'm sorry for the nothing post, but I just wanted to let you all know I'm still here and kicking. :)

Goodbye, Earl

I'm going to completely change the topic, for right now. This morning, the song Goodbye, Earl came on the radio. If you've never heard it (and don't feel like clicking the link to the lyrics), it's a slightly tongue-in-cheek story about a couple of high school friends, one who ends up with an abusive man. She files for divorce, gets a restraining order, and counts on the police to keep her safe. But the guy (Earl) beats her so badly she ends up in intensive care. The girls decide that "Earl had to die". The rest of the song talks about how they do it, tell the police they haven't heard from Earl, and go on to live normal lives, mostly.

I remember when I first heard this I was simultaneously appalled and envious. The reason for being appalled is obvious. The reason I was envious was because these girls actually did something about their situation. Not that I wanted Larry to die, but the thought of taking charge and changing something rather than just sitting by when the police didn't keep her safe was so very appealing. It seemed an incredible courage to me (you know, aside from the illegality and the immorality of it). I think that's one of the first times it occurred to me that I didn't have to be a victim. Writing that now, I look at it and think, "How absurd! Of course I didn't have to be a victim!", but at the time, it was such a complete revelation to me. Things could happen to me that were beyond my control, but I could actually do something about it! That was mind boggling. I remember giggling with friends every time the song came on, but there was also the secret, heady sensation of realizing I could make a difference in my own life, I could change something. The song came out my senior year of high school, and I think it's part of what helped me to feel that I had some control over the decisions I was making. There was a lot of pressure for me to live at home and go to the local college. Financially, it would have been a very smart move because the local university was cheaper and I wouldn't have had to pay room and board. Emotionally, it would have been a horrible move. I couched my refusal in terms of which was the better school from a Biochem standpoint, and stubbornly insisted on going to CSU. I ended up failing there, but even that was something about which I felt I had made my own choices. I was the one who chose to stop attending class, start drinking, and a half-dozen other dumb decisions. But they were my decisions.

It's been a long, hard road to get to the point where I can (most of the time) actively participate in my life. That sounds strange, doesn't it? But here's the thing: I was a passive bystander in my own life. I didn't stand up and take charge of anything. I just let things happen. I know some of that is a defense mechanism for the abuse. There really wasn't much I could do when I was younger, and the one time the police did get involved, they didn't believe me (well, actually, the problem was they did believe me when I was lying, but that's a different story). I could have run away, but the time I tried that, it didn't work, either. While I didn't have options, going with the flow kept me from worse harm. It was a good survival trick; it's not any more, though, and hasn't been for a long time. It's strange how often I find myself fluctuating between wanting someone else to make all the decisions for me and getting angry about how few decisions I made in the past. I guess, what I'm saying is this: I'm not magically, 100% cured of bizarre or destructive behaviors, but I am doing an awful lot better. I guess it's just funny that it's such a silly song that made me think about all this. Maybe I'll name my passivity Earl, and try to remember that Earl has to die. Goodbye, Earl.