Tag Archives: wonderful

nineteen months in counting.

9 Jun

We were playing with rakes. It wasn’t my idea, but my job is, after all, to serve his every whim, so when he handed me that giant green rake I took hold of it from him. Both our rakes were plastic, so I figured no harm would come from letting him play with one. Besides, I had my eye trained on the little bugger. Nothing was gonna happen to him. Not on my watch.

I went about attempting to show him how to rake, which I think he began to get the hang of. We then raked a corner of the yard… and we raked… and we raked… and we raked. How long can this kid rake the fucking grass? I thought to myself, sneakily checking the facebook app on my phone for the millionth time. I took a break, leaning on my rake and watching him go at it. The shape of his rake, the same as mine, gave me an idea. The next time he lifted his big eyes up towards me I shifted the rake so that its body leaned against my abdomen. Holding it with my left hand, I began to fake-strum the plastic fingers while scatting the Sanford & Son theme song.

“Bow Bow BWA NAH! Bow Bow BWA NAH BWA NAH Bwow!”

After a good ten or twelve seconds of this, I glanced back down at him. His naive eyes held so much confusion in them. What was I doing? I heaved a sigh.

“Right. You’re a baby. You don’t know what a guitar is. Sorry.”

I do that all the time; apologize to him when I say something or do something that he doesn’t understand. The irony is that he doesn’t comprehend why I’m saying “sorry” in the first place, and yet I find I can’t stop for the life of me.

I then went back to raking, hoping that no one staying at the B&B noticed my foolish attempt to seem cool to a nineteen month old. Hoping maybe by now he had tired of this raking business, I looked back down at him to ask if he wanted to go back in the tent to drink the strawberry-blueberry-raspberry-every kind of berry smoothie has mom had made for him. And what did I see?

He was strumming his rake; a big smile stretched across his pudgy face.

I was stunned.

I wish I could remember what it’s like to be his age. The age where you think that you water the leaves of plants because you can’t comprehend the concept of roots. The age where the simple task of someone picking you up by the hands and spinning you around and around in circles solves every skinned knee and fall down. The age where bugs are mysterious and dogs are ginormous. The age where someone playing peek-a-book with you is the most enjoyable past time in your entire life.

The age where you see your twenty-one year old babysitter being goofy by using a rake as a faux guitar and, even though you have no idea what she’s doing, you mimic her every move.

Seeing that he was copying me, a similar grin to his crossed my face and I began to play along with him. “You go! You’re gonna be a rock star someday! The next Mic Jagger!” I told him as we continued playing. He continued smiling at me, never having any clue what a Mic Jagger is/was.

Oh to be a child again.

finding hope in a shaken day.

7 May

Some people might’ve noticed a trend in my Facebook statuses and tweets today. Here are a couple examples of what they entailed:

–*-

I can’t reiterate how beautiful and wonderful life is, & I hope that a friend of mine realizes that today instead of doing something drastic

If anyone ever needs a shoulder to lean on or someone to talk to, please, never hesitate. I am a great listener and am always here for you

I am so goddamn relieved. Still shaken from the events of today, but very relieved

–*-

Today a friend of mine posted on his tumblr that he was going to end his life. He had posted his phone number a couple weeks ago, so I dug through his old entries to find it. I called him up, but there was no response, so I left him a message pleading not to do what he said he was going to do. I cried and was at a loss for words, consistently apologizing to him for not knowing what to say, but still hoping I was getting the point across to him. I’ve known for a while how unhappy he is, but sometimes we’re not truly aware until something like this happens, which is extremely unfortunate.

I spent the majority of my day keeping myself busy with homework (which didn’t really work) and staying in contact with another friend of mine. Neither she nor I have ever met our troubled friend, and I’ve never met her either, but they’re both a part of my Muppet family so they matter a great deal to me.

People committing suicide is a foreign concept to me. I’ve never known anyone to actually go through with it, and I’ve never really been confronted with a person who’s expressed great interest in taking their life. I’ve gleaned things from television, books, and movies, but those aren’t real life; this was. The only real experience I have with suicide is with… well, myself. Now I’ve never done any harm to myself, readers, and I’m obviously still here, so put your mind at ease, but there was a point in my life where the thought of suicide weighed heavily on me. I was very young and had lost my mother, something no thirteen year old should ever have to go through. I never voiced this to my father or my closest friends at the time, because I was afraid of how they’d react.

That was almost nine years ago. I’ve never had a single suicidal thought since that time, but the memory of how abhorrently depressed I was still lingers in the back of my mind. It’s a scary thing to remember. Nowadays I can’t even imagine wanting to end my life. It’s not a perfect life and I do spend quite a lot of time moping/being sad/whatever, but this is my life and I only get one shot.

I found out about an hour ago that my friend is okay. He’s gonna see someone to help him through this depression, and I’m relieved beyond relieved.

After I found out his status I went on a run. I wanted to give myself a chance to work off the stress of the day, clear my head, and move on from this event. On my run I contemplated a lot of things about my life. I’ve been doing that a lot this school year. Last September I rewatched the movie Ferris Bueller, and it’s really stuck with me. Today reinforced a lot of thoughts I’ve been having since I rewatched that film last September, and it just made me ask myself the same questions I’ve been asking myself for months. Why don’t I ever skip school to have fabulous days of adventure? Why do I care so much about what others think? Why don’t I just tell the boy I like that I like him? Why do I let myself get bogged down with things that don’t matter?

Life is a beautiful, wonderful, amazing thing. It’s cliché, but it’s true. We only get one, and we should live it how we want to live it. I want to be the friend people can come to when they’re depressed. I want to write and read and love and laugh and eat and be happy. I want to find joy in everything. I want to breathe. I want to feel my heart race, but only out of excitement, not like today when I was on the phone and I felt my heart banging in my ribcage because my friend wasn’t picking up.

Life can be extraordinary, but only when we let the things that don’t matter go and start living each day as if it’s something not to be taken lightly.

Only then can life be wonderful.

Julia’s Good Day

22 Feb

You know something? I had a good day today. A really good day.

It’s not that most of my days are awful, though the few that are tend to be what I spend the most time talking about. Most of my days are mediocre, uneventful, dull, not worth writing about. They’re not necessarily bad, but they’re not exactly good either. But today? Today was lovely.

I woke up, ate oatmeal with brown sugar while watching The Daily Show (two more days till that interview!), and then worked out to The Colbert Report. After showering, I promptly decided today was going to be a “dress-up-for-no-reason” day. I’ve felt so rushed this term that I haven’t really dolled myself up for a while now. So I donned my favorite gray vest, the navy blue coat I don’t get to wear often, and my new blue high heels. I even painted my nails with my Muppet OPI nail polish (Gone Gonzo) at last! Once I deemed myself highly adorable I headed off to school.

Classes were, surprisingly, great today, and by great I mean tremendously laid back. In Spanish we got our composition rough drafts back and I had a 92% overall, and the teacher let got out early so I had time to grab coffee while chatting with Stephanie. Next was DWC, which didn’t even qualify as a class today. We spent the entire class period watching a movie version of Triumph of Love, which resulted in the class giggling the entire time. Then was Into to Lit Theory, ie. the bane of my winter term. The first forty or so minutes were, well, boring as all get out, but then the teacher told us we were going to watch a documentary about whale hunting that was pretty gruesome, so he excused everyone who couldn’t stomach it. At first I thought to myself, “No. I can totally get through this. I will stay.” However, the second there’s a sign of a dead whale? I flee. I then spent the next half hour discussing tattoos with other girls in my class. Then I had a nice chat with one of my classmates about her transferring down to California, and we compared cats. It was nice.

After class I killed some time on tumblr and caught up with my Vagina Monologues co-director, then I headed off to the movie theater and saw The Artist with Nick. It was lovely. Beyond lovely. Jean Dujardin had so much charm and Uggie the dog was the cutest thing I’ve ever seen (further proof that I need a terrier in my life). It was such a beautiful, elegant piece of art. A silent film about making silent films. It just fit so well. I’m so glad I finally got the chance to see it.

Now, I’ve been craving pancakes for over a month, so as I’m biking home it occurs to me that the little restaurant near my house serves pancakes. I make the choice to eat dinner there. As I go in the girl tells me they close at 9pm. I check my phone. 8:45pm. I’m about to walk out the door and resign to eating soup for dinner yet again when the girl tells me it’s no problem and they can still serve me. So I take a seat at the bar and order one buttermilk pancake and a side of hash browns. As I’m waiting on my food I check facebook and see that it’s my aunts birthday. After confirming with my dad that facebook is not a liar, I call her up. She tells me she had a really nice birthday, we talk a bit about my upcoming trip to Italy, and then she starts telling me about how she’s been taking writing classes and how she’s been writing a lot about our family history. I’m so happy for her, and I’m beyond happy to hear what she’s writing about. It’s been slowly dawning on me recently how I know so little about my family’s history, so I’m planning on shooting her an email sometime in the next couple days to ask her if I can read her work. After the call ended I scarfed down my pancakes and hash browns, which were delicious, as I read a chapter of Feed and made small talk with the friendly girl who served me.

Then I came home and Stephanie and I decided to do our Spanish oral report on The Daily Show, since it has to be somewhat related to politics. Now I’m going to clean my room while watching last night’s How I Met Your Mother, and then I’m going to curl up in bed and read some more Feed.

So, all in all, a really wonderful day.