Another hot day today. It’s predicted to rain at some point tonight; I’m hoping that will bring the temps down for a few days until I can get a window AC unit installed.
I’ve adopted a Zen attitude about the heat in the apartment at this point. The dog, on the other hand, is making his displeasure known.
Date: June 2, 2013
Days Spent on Project: 105
Location: Apartment, Washington Heights, NYC
Person I would have sent it to: Victoria R. or Vicki, for short.
At some point during my sophomore year, I met the three other people who would become my group, the people that I chose to spend my free time and busy time with. Vicki is the first of them.
I have no idea how our group got started, what it was during school that brought the four of us together.
But for most of sophomore year, junior year, and- to a degree- all of senior year, the group was solid.
Vicki lived in downtown Indianapolis, in what I believed to be a very large Victorian (or early 20th Century) house. She was another friend to drive an amazing used car; again, it was a little boat-like, tank-like, and would even announce vocally when the door was, in fact, “ajar.”
I remember Vicki wearing overalls frequently. That isn’t meant to sound shocking, overalls were, for a period, back in style in the 1990s.
She had incredibly curly hair, which seemed to be pulled back into two pigtails most of the time.
She liked to announce “meat is murder” in a high-pitch tone, even though none of us were vegetarians. I think we were just intrigued by the vegetarian/vegan contingent at our school.
She and I liked the Smashing Pumpkins, Garbage, REM, Live, Ween, Liz Phair, and all those other mid-90s alt-rock groups.
She called me “sweetie.”
It’s hard to emphasize just how important Vicki and the two other kids in our group were to me during high school. As much as we thought we were outsiders and not a part of a clique, we were our own team, our own advocates, our biggest fans, celebrating ourselves and our uniqueness and diversity. We weren’t a part of the “Heathers” at Brebeuf.
I find it amazing how easy and innocent friendships were in high school. Yes, it was emotional and turbulent and hormonal and fraught with all kinds of difficulties. But, in hindsight, it was amazing; the four of us really were best friends and we forged that friendship because we believed we were in the same boat, sailing in the same direction, going against the tide. We were together, and together we were there for each other.
Is it sad that life isn’t necessarily like that after high school and college? Or is it sad that I believe that?
Music I listened to while sewing: I’ve figured out some of the music used in McQueen’s “Irere” fashion show. For that past few hours, I’ve been rediscovering Basement Jaxx, whom I haven’t listened to since 2004 or so… the year after “Irere” debuted…
Thoughts/Feelings behind the block: I’m surprised to realize how upset and adrift I still feel after this past week.
The realization that I was made the whipping boy for a production, and was chosen to be the one to take the fall, just stings.
But, I think I’ve turned a corner of sorts. I have another show I can focus on. I can get myself to the gym and start running off that anger. And while it feels incredibly personal, I have to tell myself that it wasn’t.
Some things just aren’t meant to be. And I’m choosing to believe that it obviously wasn’t meant to be. I’m choosing to believe that it happened that way for a reason. I’m choosing to believe that it doesn’t mean a path ended, but the path was righting a misguided direction.
Okay, off to make some steps in a better direction. Each day on its own, right?