icky nasty

All right, I know most of my posts here have been surrounding things of the relationship nature, but I figure that doesn't matter too much.

I feel nasty. I won't go into too much detail, because I don't feel like taking this off my Facebook profile.

I'm a bit depressed and masochistic with a plummeting self worth. I feel a bit like I did in high school, at times. But the difference is that I know that I have people who love me, so that's keeping me from acting on any of my masochistic impulses.

I feel like a failure and a box of vice. Ghosts from before are coming back and giving me nightmares while i'm awake and haunting me. All I feel like I'm worth is to be a prostitute.

Well, see, the difference between this and last summer and the years before that is now I've got a huge beacon of hope, a life given to me by the Mount. They don't know about my past ghosts; they don't live there.

I'm in a big hole, and taking small steps to climb out, small victories.

I don't see why my friends bother to keep me around. I feel like the small victories aren't enough, that I'm not keeping up and just falling deeper and farther away from them while slowly taking two steps forward and one step back.

I look at myself and see weakness. Not worth anything. the disease, not the cure. I don't know how to work hard, and is it worth it to try and learn now, while I feel so far behind the learning curve?

needless to say, I don't like me right now, and I want to go leave, but I can't. I'm chained to me and I can't get free.

I guess unless I get to the higher level I want to be at, I'm gonna be fucking miserable.

Bah. I'm gonna go listen to music and maybe sleep.

Maddening

I don't think this will make it to Facebook. A tiny bit too personal, I think. Although, those of you who stalk this blog are of course welcome to read on. I know you're out there, lurking. :)

David comes home next week. Thus, my life will officially have made a 180 back to where it was.

This is so maddening, so maddening. So far this time home has felt like a dream. I'm just moving in a foggy space empty save for voices and shadows. But once he's home, things will come back to some semblance of normal. Why David, in particular? It feels like many things since my freshman year have been related to him. I had a cute little crush on him freshman year, sophomore year too, and then really felt his absence when he went to college. Band wasn't the same, it wasn't quite as much fun. But that summer he came back, and all of us went out and had fun. Senior year I was a mess, but that summer he came back and helped me sift through a lot of transition shit to college. More than anything I feel like he's a mentor to me. Even when he messed with my little naive head in early high school, he was a mentor, I assume without his knowledge. Adjusting to college was structured by how much I thought about him in the first few months, and then not at all for a while. But every so often we would talk online, and he'd offer me the perspective I needed. Or the kick in the ass. I love him a lot, platonic love of course. And next year he will be a senior, and this might be our last summer. If anything, I hope to be finally at his level. He always got it more than I did, was always a little bit farther along. It's hard for me to believe that we'll ever be equals. Maybe years down the road, if we meet up again.

But I can't think about the future too much right now. I makes me sad, deep inside. I've already had to say goodbye to so much of my childhood already.

But to carry on, he will be home and my life here will start living. Besides the frustration with not yet being able to find a job (whatever, it's my fault. Moving on...), I think one of the biggest things about my other life is that I think I found my first love, and now I get to kill it before it drives me mad. I know, I know, it sounds horribly, just utterly bogus and cliche. But hear me out. If you've experienced it before, you know what I'm talking about. If not, then really you can't get it.

See, I never thought I'd be one of those people who say, "You never forget your first love." because it always seems like that way part of you always loves them, and then you'll never be able to give yourself fully to anyone else. I guess I always believed that I'd be one of the lucky ones. Well, nope, sorry. Here's some life experience, go chew on it. I mean, yeah, it makes me understand more, and I guess it'll make me a more complex, deeper person with a capacity for a different kind of beauty in it. But I didn't want to be broken, damnit. I wanted...still want...everything to turn out perfect. No, it wont. Sorry babe, that's what happens. Looks like it might be the point in your life where you get to learn disappointment. But dear, remember what you already know: Life is a balance; the more pain you suffer the better the good will feel. And vice versa. More to lose, more to gain. Ever thought that there might be a reason why you get to be so damned happy there? Maybe it's because you're gonna have to deal with some tough stuff, some really tough stuff, and it all balances it out. You just have to go out and find that balance.

So now while I'm figuring out how to break what should and piece back what should, I still see the humor in it. Now the bar has been set even higher. Not only does it have to have all those lovely qualities that you can describe, but you've found something unquantifiable. Good for you, you know understand "Spark". And of course, you can't settle for anything less. You little high achiever you. Yes, dear, you know that there is a possibility of you getting together with Mr. Right. but if you do, he'll be a different person than he is now, and frankly so will you. So let it go, it won't be there anymore. Just like your childhood. Just like those summers.

And don't even think about any what ifs. David taught you that. So in the meantime, throw back your head and laugh with your friends. Live it up in as many ways as you know how. You have two lives now, girl, and this one more than deserves your time now. Give it a fair shot at winning your heart, and maybe you'll be able to let other things go.

Cruel Intentions

I wanted to watch it, but it's not on my usual site.

It's a bittersweet symphony, this life.

I retreat into myself and take a moment to indulge in the warm memories of a few moments of passion. It's probably not yet safe to do so, but it's close enough. Remembering the senses. Opening myself to see if there is any meaning to be gained from any of it. A lesson. Insight. Or if merely but to indulge.

With the venomous kiss you gave me I'm killing loneliness...

Sitting here, wrapped up warmly in myself, I look up to the night sky, and imagine that I see inky blue black pierced with millions of stars, instead of orange brown light reflecting off of grey clouds. I'm asking for answers, but not really wanting them. I'm too attached to the warmth I feel inside.

I could just go to sleep.

I need a mission statement. I need a manifesto.

I need direction.

.


I need sleep.

thoughts while brainwashing myself with FIF

Brainwashing has such a negative connotation.

I'm currently under construction, and brainwashing myself with music.

I think subliminal messaging is probably one of the causes of self image issues in girls. I'm a bit paranoid now. Thanks, Derek.

I'm not quite sure which way to go. I think I'm in the process of solidifying, at least, in some respects. Ha, I can feel my brain developing. My consciousness is different, I can tell. Yay. And my disposition.

I wanna write, but I'm seeing all these glaring deficiencies. They tell me that I've got a lot of work ahead of me. I don't think I can do it. I don't think I have the drive or maybe the ability. That it's too late, that I should be farther along. Ha, I'm contemplating putting this on Facebook.

Because you know what that means? Oh, I want encouragement. I'm not supposed to be weak, I'm supposed to be strong, and I'm going to get ridiculed if I show weakness. In one way or another. No one likes someone who constantly asks for it. One voice wants to say well, screw you all, yes, I apologize that I don't have enough security or personal drive or confidence to do everything on my own.

Maybe this is where God is supposed to come in for us Christians. Oh, where's David to give me a kick in the ass when I need it? Ha, right here, with "on distant shores". Thanks, you totally got me addicted to ska, btw.

Oh, but that whole department has always been a foreign concept to me. It's like fractions. I just don't get it (I get fractions now, but it took me FOR EV ER). I never figured out (or no one taught me) how to pray. What's a relationship with God supposed to be like? I think right now I'm sorta exploring the other side, which is hard because I've got a guilt complex preventing me from totally rebelling. But see, how can I confess sin that I intended to commit, and am not yet sorry for because it improved my understanding and is necessary?

I think I want to write a book about this stuff, when I figure it out. Spirituality for 'real' people, and Derek and Nick would say. Or just a spirituality book for people who aren't encased in their own little world, for the in between, for the kids who never did the big screw up or the ones who never were perfect. I dunno.

I'm coming up with ideas and drawing conclusions, and for the first time they're disagreeing with some of those closest to me. What, you mean it's ok for me to be my own person? Yeah, sure, I know, obvious, right? To society. But not to my society. I'm expanding and contracting and trying to figure all this out, like other people, so LAY OFF. Mostly I'm saying that to myself. Rationalizing and whatnot. Convincing. Brainwashing.

After getting tired of aiming high, I shot for mediocrity. How can I aim high again? I don't have dreams. My goals are: Graduate from college. Get decent paying job that I enjoy. Get married. Raise a family. Other than that I've got nothing. Oh yeah, just look at what you like to do, what do you want to do? I don't know. Well, figure it out. How? I can't tell you that. Gee, thanks.

You know what? I like comments, just because I like seeing what other people think of my thoughts. I like it. I'm interested in what they think. Whatever it is.

I can do anything I put my mind to. Except rise to the top echelon. Is it a self fulfilling prophesy? Maybe. Probably. But once this Yossarian figures out how run, I'll get out of the paradox.

Here's what I'm brainwashing myself with:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=K8p916axHYM

Ha, I did end up putting this on Facebook.

Samson

You are my sweetest downfall...I loved you first, I loved you first...

You know, I used to think Regina was talking about loving him before her. Before some other girl that he's with now. She's not, at least, not to me anymore. He's her first love.

Congratulations. College gave you a priceless learning experience, all in one. First love and loss.

...Oh I cut his hair myself one night, a pair of dull scissors in the yellow light, and he told that I'd done all right, and kissed me 'till the morning light, the morning light, and kissed me till the morning light...

Aww, Christ. Damn, I was so naive. Still am, really. Silly, silly girl, falling for a silly, silly boy. Now, if I want to do this properly, I'd lock myself in my room and cry for a few days. But I won't because there was no proper relationship. Woot yeah.

The thing is, he's no better than me. someday he'll figure it out.

So many assumptions, naive ultimatums...no boy will make me cry, if it's real it'll last forever, if it's real you'll see it lasting...oi. All I want to do is go off and get drunk. Forget him. i know I won't.

I want someone, anyone, else make me feel what he did. God it was good. God it was addictive. Wipe those eyes from my memory, that smile, that touch. Just like David, burn it. uhhhhhghhh.

What am I doing? Getting rid of my romantic love. My consolation: I can hang onto the fact that I can love him as one of my best friends. Sweet.

Eh, I can't talk to anyone about it. I could. But it's dumb. Nick's hurting enough, Andy's on the opposite end and hates him anyway so there's no way he'd be sympathetic. Der....yeah right.

Damn, and I thought I had it. Oh well. Go cry on the steps of Bradley.

Fool proof method as designed by me to get rid of him:

• Don't let yourself believe that it's possible. It's not. You were wrong.
  
• Don't listen to love songs at all costs. Listen to loss songs. Listen to country. Listen to power songs.
• Block his profiles. Use willpower. You don't care about what he's doing.
  
• Cry. Get mad. He's not worth your devotion or care.
  
• Distract yourself. Get a job. A hobby. Addictive internet websites. Friends
• Hang out with other people.
  
• Don't make excuses for him. He's got flaws, he doesn't feel the same way. That's just how it is.
• Laugh. Get other things to make you happy.
  
• Don't buy that pink sundress. In fact, don't buy any pink. Unless it's slutty lingerie.
  

We'll see how this works. It should be better by the end of the summer. Done.

Two Down, Six to Go

Dear Mount Family,

You changed my life. I’ll never forget it.

Love,

Steinke

P.S: I realized that I’m growing up. I’m a young adult in college, and my childhood is done. Sure, that doesn’t mean that I’m not going to have fun. Quite the contrary, I plan to have just as, if not more intense fun mixed with just as if not more intense responsibilities during these next few years. It’s a weird feeling, like a click inside me that I can’t control. Maybe it’s grace. Maybe it’s biology. Maybe it’s all in my head. Oh, and remember how I wrote a bunch of notes about being scared of losing stuff and not being able to make it work? Guess what everyone, I’m not scared anymore. I know I can do it, and it’s awesome. And simple. I think it has to do with the idea of home, or something similar. I’m getting closer to the point where I’ll be able to take home with me, at least for a while. Home is where I have people who love me. Meaning, all over a bunch of states. It’s kinda cool. Stepping off the plane in Washington, I breathed in the air and felt like I was purging something from my system. Weird, huh? I love it here, the atmosphere. But you know, I miss the birds during the day. Yes, I miss Maryland. I miss the Mount. I miss walking across campus for food, sleeping more in the Honors Lounge than in my bed, Mass at night on Sundays with Café afterwards, watching the world around me grow old and die and regenerate itself even more beautiful than before. Maybe it’s easier to miss the Mount because a bunch of things here at home are changing, too. It’s like my past is slowly dying, and only exists in my memory. Sure, it was bound to happen. But it’s weird to go through it.

P.P.S: So what else have I learned this semester? If we didn’t know what true friendship means, we do now. I can tell who my best friends are because they know more about my flaws and weaknesses than I would ever admit or even know about, and they love me anyway. No matter how hard I try, I can’t stay mad at my friends when they want to make things right. Age is just a number except for drinking and sex. In small, controlled amounts, alcohol won’t send you to hell. Neither will slackening the hold on your hormones. Always pick up your dry clothes, because the Mount WILL eat six pairs of jeans and two pairs of shorts (when I came to school I had ten pairs of jeans. Now I’m down to one. What gives?). Always talk things out, but sometimes it’s better not to argue or even express your opinion. The grade is worth the effort, but not much more. An A feels awesome, but a 100% still feels better. Procrastination will be the death of me, so I’m in rehab. My opinions on virtually everything are fluid, even though I’ll say otherwise to keep my pride. Rock climbing is awesome. No matter how old you are, band trips are amazing. Emphatic listening works. Care enough to ask. Put yourself on a shelf and give and give and give and take a Sabbath. When things get rough, taking a walk is a good idea, and there’s no harm in having it end breaking down on the steps of Bradley at 3am. I don’t have to tell you everything, but I have to let you in. Always keep at least enough perspective to ask your friends to beat some into you. Bleu Cheese rocks and veal is mean. Take some time to figure out your standards, and stick to them. Then, when it’s safe, reevaluate. God will give me no more than I can handle, I just have to choose to handle it. I don’t know where I’m going to end up after college. Afterwards, I may go days, weeks or months without thinking of you. But I will never forget you. I think there’s a difference. So for these next few years, let’s raise our glasses and live it up. It’s the one shot I’ve got to experience the college thing with all of you, and I couldn’t ask for better companions for the ride.

Another Wind

Good Evening, folks. I'm back with a few introspective musings. But first, a public service announcement:

My dad is joining the Church tomorrow. Prayers are appreciated. :-) Thanks.

Now back to me.

I've been an idiot on the edge of burnout. Let me explain. I have a 10 - 15 page curriculum for 9-11 grade teens due on Monday. On Tuesday I have a 6-8 page paper for Dr. Mitra due on how Austen challenges social norms in her novel, Northanger Abbey. I have a fairly decent start on the Curriculum, but thus far I've reacted crappily to Mitra's paper. Not only have I been skimping on the reading (I sorta got through North and South - why the heck is there not a single damn free study guide for that book online?), but my skimping happened to fall at the same time as her decision to reinstate reading quizzes. Lovely. Those didn't turn out well. I did a pretty good job on my part of the group project for Jane Eyre, though. Of course, on the last quiz, Mitra writes "your scores don't reflect your level of participation in class" - i.e., What gives?. THEN, I decide to put off my one page summary of my topic for my term paper (worth 25% of my grade), skip class the day it's due, forget/avoid meeting with her on the wednesday that I said I would, get the topic to her on thursday, have her call me out for not getting in touch with her in front of a bunch of juniors and seniors in the class, get told that she won't have time until Monday to meet and that won't do much good because the paper is due tuesday. So I've fallen from proverbial grace in the eyes of one of my profs, which ranks in the top 10, if not top five, things that I can't stand/handle/trigger icky feelings.

The verdict? Good job, Steinke. Now you have to work your ass off to write an amazing paper while sucking yourself up because there's no way in hell you can avoid Mitra forever, especially because you want to get an english minor and she teaches the Mod Civ section you want to get into. How about trying something out of character: Pick your ass up and move on and do good.

I got my multidraft on "Cruelty and Goodness" back today. Not only do I have a 100% on it, but I've got a 92 in the class. I was expecting a B in the class, so a 92 surprised me. And then just the fact that I got a 100...oh man, that feels sooo good. Yeah, it's a stupid multidraft. Yeah, it really doesn't mean much. But the fact that 100% still reigns as perfect in my mind from years ago. It's the first time in a long time that I really feel like I did a good job, a really good job on a paper. on pretty much anything. It's like hope that I can still be smart, still pull off high academic marks, that I didn't screw myself over when I decided to get friends and sacrifice some school. Yes, I'm so stupid and insecure that I need physical acknowledgment of my intelligence and ability. In fact, I may or may not be incredibly insecure about it, so I just don't try because I don't think I can do it anymore, so I end up half assing stuff. (fun fact: I even emailed a copy of the paper to my parents, that's how ridiculously proud of it I am. Yes, I'm acting like a 15 year old. So what?)

My curriculum will be ok. I just have to put the hours in it, and I think I still have time to get it all done. As long as I have enough caffiene in my system, I think I can do it and do it well.

Oh yes, back to my dad. He's joining the Church. Tomorrow. My mom called me at 8:35 this morning to tell me. Granted, most of the conversation consisted of her ranting about how everyone in the parish knows because our priest has a big mouth, but hey. My Lutheran dad is becoming Catholic. And I'm still in shock.

The fact that my parents were 'mixed' played a pretty significant part in who I am. It was the reason why I went to public school (which, although it may not seem like much, made a world of difference). I went to two churches until I was 12. It's why I try to respect prots. It's why I love apologetics. It taught me from day one that there are different opinions out there, and even if someone disagrees with you you can love them just as much as if they didn't. It sounds dumb, but I'm having a minor identity crisis. It feels like a part of my childhood is gone, and it's not coming back, that I'm growing up and the world and my life is changing, no matter what I do. You'd think that I don't mind change, I mean, I might as well have gone to another country for school. But I do. I find that some of the constants in my life are evolving or disappearing, and I'm scared that I don't have what it takes inside me to make it. I guess that's the overarching theme of all of this.

I really wish I could be there tomorrow.

I'd like to ask all of you, if you want, to say a quick prayer for my family.

So, I'm suffering from homesickness, burnout and self doubt.

You know, I think the key to being successful is self drive. But why do we all have to be successful? Can't some of us be failures? Why in the world should we all succeed? What makes me so special that I get to succeed? Get. There it is. Passive, not active. Why is it so damn hard for me to be active? I think I just have to find motivation. And I have, half way. Kevin's note. Which I recommend that lots of you read, btw. And I have this book, Chocolate for a Teen's heart, that I got for Christmas when I was 14. Good stuff. She's got a list of 25 things in there that I live by. Or try to. It's like, my mom's "Be kind!!!" is the Great Commandment, and Kay's tips for teens are the 25 commandments.

God I feel so weak in so many ways. I stress, i get tired, i sleep, i stress more....yeah. I just want a hug from my parents. So when you reach out, I don't resist, because something needs it. It's funny, the effect of human contact. Heh, I wanted desperately to just ask you for one for a couple days, but I couldn't, then you told me to cry, so I did, and the world got better.

I guess now, amidst the insanity, I'm just trying to find ways to fight it. It's not easy for me, coming back to pushing for it, and knowing exactly how easy things are when you just let it all slide and pretend not to care about anything.