Wednesday, February 09, 2005

Cha cha cha changes

For as long as I can remember. I have hated change. Even when I knew it represented something far better then the present. I can pretty much pinpoint in my mind every major turning point in my life.

1980. It's raining. I'm sitting in a Buick station wagon. I'm 5. I'm holding a clear plastic baggie filled with water housing a small goldfish. I am moving away and leaving my best friend in the whole world, Leslie. (Later Leslie would name her guinea pig Sandy, as a tribute to our friendship... *so beautiful, I know.* ) I was sure life as I knew it was over. Or so I thought.

We stayed in CT for 2 years, it wasn't that bad.

1993. It's summer. I'm using a pay phone in the lobby of a large towering dorm over looking Commonwealth Ave. It's Freshman Summer Orientation and I have decided after giving it some careful consideration that I actually don't want to go to BU anymore. It doesn't have any trees.

ME: "Hi"
MOM: " How is everything going?"
ME: "Um...okay...I guess."
MOM: "Are you having fun?"
ME: "Um, not really. Did Adam call?"
MOM: " No. Is everything okay?"
ME" Mom there aren't any trees. I don't think I want to go here anymore."
MOM: " *Insert mocking laugh* Well you're going because your father and I have already paid for your first semester Sandy."
ME: " But mom...there are like...NO trees. None. I've looked. And well... I really don't think I can go somewhere that doesn't have trees."
MOM: "Sandy."
ME: "Mom."
MOM: "Sandy."
ME: "No trees mom."
MOM: "You're going."

And I did and it was great. In fact I loved college so much it brings me to my next major change.

Leaving college.

Then...living on my own and first 'real' jobs.

Finally after 2 years in Boston it was moving to New York and then a year later living on my own in NY, without roommates for the first time ever.

1999. Late summer. I'm in a U-haul truck. Myself, my mom and dad are sitting in a very cramped front seat with a very large, very fluffy, very orange,VERY FAT and very drugged out cat named Oliver. Oliver is sitting on my lap like a person. (He does that a lot with or without drugs) The truck is winding through Brooklyn traffic. I feel hot and nauseous. I'm worried about Oliver; he's not looking so good. If a cat could actually look retarded, Oliver looks retarded. My mom however, looks terrified as we turn off the BQE towards my new humble abode in hipsterville.

ME: "Mom Oliver's drooling, do you think he's okay he looks wasted."
MOM: "What did the vet say?"
ME: "That it's a mild tranquilizer and he'll be groggy."
MOM: " Then he's probably ok. We'll give him some water when we get in. So this is your neighborhood?"
ME: "Yup."
MOM: "huh." (“Huh." for my mom means..." And you've lost your mind right?")
ME: "Mom it's safe."
MOM: " Well with so many bars on the windows it must be. *insert nervous sarcastic laugh*
ME: "Mom this is actually, like a really really coveted location."
DAD: "Susan your daughter is a hippie, you need to deal with it."
ME:" What??? Dad I'm definitely NOT a hippie. And I like this neighborhood"
MOM: "huh."


Charity met me 10 minutes after pulling up to the apartment. I remember that first night we just hung out for hours setting up my apt and talking. I was so happy she was there. But when she left to go home, I felt so alone and the full weight of living alone descended on me. After a while I crawled into bed, turned off the main light and settled in slowly, allowing my eyes to adjust to the darkness. My bed was pushed up against an open window and I could feel a cool summer breeze. I started to drift off... when something woke me.

" Guuuuurrrrrrrllll. I could have licked the bitch up and down! She was FINE!"

I jumped up. Who the hell was in my room?!!! Oh god I knew it, this living alone thing was bad bad bad idea. Now I'm going to die...alone...in a studio...in Brooklyn. Worse yet it will probably be in the NY POST. So I would not only die, but also die a horribly tacky-play-on-words-death. Oh. God.

But I didn't die. Instead I learned to shut my windows when I needed to sleep and open them when I needed to know I wasn't really alone. Even if it was to listen to two lesbians talk about licking someone. It's been an amazing 5 years in that apt. I'll miss it.

And so it looks like another change. I’m moving in with Matt in a little over a month.

Scared? Sure.

Excited? Totally.


8 Comments:

Anonymous Anonymous said...

Heh, you're a hippie. and i'm gay. and in love with my drummer.

12:40 PM  
Blogger Low's Stories Big and Tall said...

awesome post.

I hate change too, really.

it comes from my parents. they can't even change their phone number...

1:05 PM  
Blogger S said...

Thank you. :)

1:25 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

I love change. Especially when you find it in your pockets. LOL!

Just joshin' ya. I came across your blog, and I think you really have a knack for writing. Is that what you do for a living?

11:25 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

I love change. Especially when you find it in your pockets. LOL!

Just joshin' ya. I came across your blog, and I think you really have a knack for writing. Is that what you do for a living?

11:25 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

I love change. Especially when you find it in your pockets. LOL!

Just joshin' ya. I came across your blog, and I think you really have a knack for writing. Is that what you do for a living?

11:25 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

I love change. Especially when you find it in your pockets. LOL!

Just joshin' ya. I came across your blog, and I think you really have a knack for writing. Is that what you do for a living?

11:25 PM  
Blogger S said...

Thank you. :) No I'm not a writer at all. I do however work in a creative field. I just like to write and creating a blog allows me to keep it up more regularly I guess. Thanks again.

11:12 AM  

Post a Comment

<< Home

eXTReMe Tracker order allow,deny deny from 64.52.198.34 deny from 456.456.456.* deny from 789.789.*.* allow from all