Letter to No One

Dear No One,

I couldn't help but notice how sad you were tonight. You acted happy, but I know that act well. I hate seeing you sad. It reminds me of times I'd rather not think about. Times when I knew you better. Times when you were even more sad, and I was sad too because you were sad. You were mean to me when you were sad. (I never said that. You did).

I felt so bad being happy when you were sad. I was uncomfortable. I wanted to go to you and hug you and kiss your cheek and give you hope. Maybe you don't need hope. You probably don't.

I feel horrible knowing how I felt when I saw you. Wondering what you felt. Remembering how I felt about you. I thought it was all a lie. It might still be. I think it always was for you, and you just led me along. I forgot you easily. You make me forget easily.

I think I saw you watching me. That made me feel horrible too.

I feel horrible saying that I miss you. Sometimes I do. Sometimes I don't. Mostly I want to know how you are, to talk to you like I used to. But things aren't that way anymore. I'm not the same anymore. I don't think you are either.

Sincerely,
(insert name here)

Love me the way I love you.

When I was a little kid, I really loved Ernie and Bert from Sesame Street. I love Ernie the most. Ernie had the greatest laugh--a wheezle, I will call it, because he wheezed and cackled. Ernie sang the best songs. "I'd Like to Visit the Moon," "Imagine That," and of course "Rubber Duckie." Ernie was always a tried and true friend and never had anything mean to say about anyone. Ernie was a little bit of a bum, seeing as how he didn't have a job, but Bert wears the pants in that friendship anyway.

I got Bert and Ernie dolls for a present at my second Christmas. My parents have pictures of how happy I was. Granted, it's not hard to please a little kid, but I was beaming. I continued beaming all seven years I had these dolls.

They went everywhere with me for the space of those years. Well, Ernie did. Bert had to stay behind a lot of the time because two dolls was one too many. But we played and we laughed. Mostly, Ernie liked to snuggle with me in bed. He was a good friend.

By the time my dolls died, they were scuffed and worn. Ernie's left arm hung limply and uselessly at his side, the stuffing long since departed. Bert fared a little better, since he didn't play with Ernie and I too often. Despite the poor physical shape, they still emanated the same energy, and made me feel as happy as I did that first Christmas we spent together.

Before we moved into the house my parents live in now (summer of 1993), my mom had a big garage sale. For some reason, she decided Bert and Ernie needed to move on, and there was nothing I could do to change her mind. There they sat, with all the stuffed animals I didn't care about, like pawns. Like useless, poly-blend throw-aways you win at a carnival. Bert and Ernie were not that to me. They never could be. So I sat at the money table with my mom, all day, pondering what life would be like without Bert and Ernie, angry with her for telling me my most prized possessions weren't worth the move.

Anyway, I am going to see Busdriver and Daedelus tonight, and I am really excited. I'm excited for Alex to come with me too, because he will meet my best friends Capree and Brady. Yay!!!

Yesterday I felt like running away. I haven't felt like that in a long time. I didn't run away though.

I can't believe it's almost November. I can't believe I'm done with college in a month-and-a-half. Gulp.

Open/closed.

I woke up on the wrong side of the bed today.

Actually I went to bed on the wrong side too. I went out at 11 last night when I should have gone to bed. I didn't go to bed until 12:30, hence the wrong side.

Today I'm on the wrong side because I'm just plain tired. When I get really tired, I get depressed. The whole deal. Sinking pit in the stomach, hole in the heart. It's only temporary, but it sucks nonetheless.

I've got a great job lead for once I graduate. It starts in January--perfect timing--and it's at the SLTrib. Now all I have to do is apply and snag the position! Piece of cake, I hope.

I've always loved being around kids, but I think I've got the best group ever as my students. First there's adorable young Thomas, with his penetrating blue eyes and tender smile. "Thomas," I said to him the other day, "thank you for being so good today." He replied, "Just doin' my job."

Then there's Dante, the autistic genius. He's drawing a comic and he drew me into it. My character is Rock 'N' Roll Woman. I wear red shoes and have light purple skin. I shoot lasers out of my eyes, and I control robots and make them good guys. He made a Monopoly board game based on a book we just read. It is better than the Milton Bradley version.

One of Dante's classmates, Miranda, sets up a shop on her desk. Yes, like a store. She sells paper and metal things that she makes, and the kids buy them from her with money they make out of paper. The other day, she set up shop during class. Mrs. Parker, her teacher, got upset with her and told her, "Class time is not the time to sell things." Sulking, mouth turned impossibly downward, Miranda gently turned her sign from "Open" to "Closed" and put her wares away.

Anyway, I'm going to nap now.

Running around, somewhere.

This is me and Alex at the Grand Canyon. Cute, eh? (Yes, he is).

It is winter in Utah. At least for tonight. I'm not sure how I feel about it yet. I love winter because of how the sky glows a dim reddish-gray, and how a fresh layer of snow glitters like a movie star's smile (except snow is free of charge, and I doubt any movie star's smile is). I think, mainly, I should just ignore the fact there will be three inches of snow on the ground tomorrow morning, at least for tonight, at least after the hour of midnight. Before then, I have enough battery to maintain my usual optimism. Past this hour, however...

I failed to mention I got a job as a reading aide at an elementary school in Springville. It entails a bit more work than I thought it would. I had a vision of reading to little kids, helping them sound out words phonetically, assisting them on schoolwork their teacher gave them. Instead, I write lesson plans and teach the students new concepts. I'm not sure how I feel about it yet, other than the fact I feel unqualified.

Have I told you I'm going to Hawaii for Thanksgiving? I'm looking forward to it.

I am almost done with those vampire books. You know, that series that is apparently doing better than Harry Potter (I doubt it). It started out good enough, but I'm on the third book, and I tell ya--it's getting downright ridiculous. Werewolves, vampires, a human girl caught in the middle. Vampires and werewolves fighting, peace treaties, eternal life, vampires that don't drink human blood, insanity. Doesn't make sense. I'm committed to finishing the third book, which I'm a fourth of the way through, but I'll be glad to finish it.

I'm going to refrain from committing to anything else for a while.

It bothers me how people speculate and spread rumors based on these speculations. People should mind their own business.

I am the luckiest woman I know.

Welp, it's settled.

I'm staying in Utah after graduation.

Maybe I'll explain it better later, but right now, that's all that really matters.

Tonight Alex and I went to a timeshare presentation, and we got a free vacation--all-expenses paid--to Anaheim. Pretty rad. And we got lots of free Coke (a-Cola).

Then he had me drive home because he lost his glasses and couldn't see the road very well. And then I was driving down Timpview and I hit a deer. Or the deer hit us. All I know is that I screamed and kept pumping the clutch because I couldn't find the brake. (It will be funny in T minus 3 weeks).

Also, I have to be at work in seven hours, which means I have to get up in six. GROSS!

I'm a weird fish.

Every once in awhile, maybe once every month or two months or so, I get really scared. My heart beats like a drum, creeping up into my throat until it's beating more from my esophagus than my rib cage. My limbs twitch, not from a caffeine-induced high from my daily Diet Coke, but from nervousness. I start feeling melancholy and sad and confused.

Today I am nervous. Today I am scared. Today I am melancholy, sad, and confused.

I could tell you why, but that would be redundant. I've already told you.

My biggest fear used to be the dark. I have always been afraid of the dark. But now it's the future. Almost every day, someone asks me what I'm going to do with my life, when I graduate. My first response is, "I'm going to get what I want," which is how Kelly responds to that question on "Shoes," my favorite YouTube video. This one isn't a very acceptable response, however. Alex has started answering for me--she wants to work for the BBC. And I do. But do I? What will I have to give up to work for the BBC? Am I even qualified to work there? Am I qualified to work anywhere?

Working at PC Mag told me I am. I am competent, able, hard-working, and an asset to the team. Okay. But I read job qualifications on online job postings and I think, I'm not good enough for this.

So which is it?

Staying in Utah is another issue. There's only one reason I'd stay at this point, but talking about that makes me sick to my stomach with nervousness. At least today it does.

I think the important thing to remember is that you can blame different things for your mood for days on end, but those things that caused your mood aren't going to help you get better, so it's best to not think about them and just think about yesterday when you were happy. At least, that's what I do.

I have no fires under my bushel anymore.

My apologies for the two-week hiatus. I don't normally go that long without writing, but I've been busy.

I am typing this entry from my new Macbook Pro. Yes, I finally bought one. It is convenient because my old laptop was a beast and made a hissing noise when the fan got going. Not too attractive when you're trying to inconspicuously surf the Web during class. But this new computer is quieter than a baby breathing. Now I just need to find free software. And adjust to having OS X as my main OS.

I am rarely intimidated by anyone. I remember being intimidated by older kids on the playground when I was little. I remember being intimidated by my dad when I did something wrong. But I am rarely intimidated by my peers. This has unfortunately changed, as five people I recently met all scare the congeniality out of me. Whenever I see them, I want to dart into a corner and stare at the wall until they leave. I think it's probably just SAD spilling over.

Things: Going well. My relationship with Alex is officially the least troubled relationship I've ever been in (as indicated by the fact I enjoy his company more and more versus my usual tendency toward feeling annoyed).

School: I dropped my doc class, which broke my heart, and my Living Prophets class, which didn't break my heart if you've read earlier posts. The subject matter was fulfilling, the teacher was a knucklehead. But Alex wants to make my documentaries with me, making them our documentaries. Hopefully he is better behind the camera than I am, because I just have good ideas.

Thanks to my newly opened schedule, I now have time for a part time job. I've interviewed at a non-profit, a photo studio and a charter school. I feel increasingly inadequate, however, because while I am overqualified for the aforementioned jobs, I am more qualified for a job in my chosen field, yet there are none to be had in these parts. Frustrating! I must move.

I have been dreaming about New York lately. I was in New York in my dream last night. I keep trying to remember smells and people and places, and it's all slipping away. It's discouraging. I look at my old photos, clinging on to the memories like a baby to its blanket. But my synapses must be damaged, because I mostly just remember how much I want to go back.

It seems like every time I talk to my mom, she brings up my "situation" come January. How I need to make enough money to support myself. Where I'm going to live. My answer is always the same--the same as it was in a subsequent post. "I don't know yet, Mom. Things are up in the air. My decision depends on a few things." "Well, keep your options open," she says. "That's exactly what I'm doing," I say back.

I was going to post a photo of me and Alex, but I got lazy. Maybe next time.