Fufilling an Obligation...

To whom? Certainly there are very few people out there hanging onto my every word, waiting for my next public service announcement/recollection of my day. So maybe, by writing this entry, I'm simply complying with the rules I've set with myself.

An accomplishment worth commending.

The past 24 hours have passed lazily, with a little less sleep than desired but a lot more good news than expected. I'm allowed to be quite pleased with myself for going on another long bike ride, right? This one was different--sidewalks and shoulders of the local roads instead of the out-of-the-way trails behind skippack. Plus, only 45 minutes of riding. I was a little tired after spending a while with a former teacher, who (after hours of much friendlier conversation) wasted no time telling me she heartily disapproves of my future career path.

There was a time when that would've devastated me. Now is the time I would easily get into a full-fledged argument about it. But after about 10 minutes on the defensive, I let it go. I mean--she's a foreign language teacher that sees no sense in International Studies and Anthropology? Hmmm... Some people just have no faith, I think. And not everyone can be talked into idealism. Shame.

Speaking of defeatism, I haven't ridden today. What can I say? My butt needed a break. Plus I only got about 5 hours of real sleep--after an awesome catch-up session with the cuz yesterday (the source of aforementioned good news) we fell asleep to Fun with Dick and Jane only to wake up at 6 AM to the machine-gun stitching of my Aunt's embroidery machine. Oh. And the releasing of two of THE most desperate-for-attention dogs you'll ever meet. Dear Obi. He'll step on your face in his excitement to say good morning. And Lacey'll lick you until you're ready to drown just to get a pat on the head. I gave up on sleep around 9 and came home to do laundry, wash dishes, and otherwise get my shit together post-gov school. Not a productive day in my eyes, but mom'll be happy to see things in order. Plus--Kristen's coming over later! eee! Gov School reunion Souderton-style, part II. So after I say goodnight to Gavin (we're gonna eat dinner and see Dark Knight, woohoo!!), Kristen'll come over and we'll watch across the universe and eat popcorn and reminisce and be girls and inevitably talk about college (on everyone's mind lately) and perhaps record a souderton reunion video.*


and maybe scream "FUUUUUUCK!" down the hallway, just for old time's sake.

*now available on the facebook.

Feels a lot more like home...

What a day. A reasonable wakeup time, a long shower, a bathroom all to myself for getting ready. A whole damn house to myself. Bliss.

Then, at noon, I had my first official Gov. School reunion—thank GOD Kristen lives so close, plus she has a car, so we chilled at main street java for a good hour and a half. We had so much to talk about—being back is strange. Walking through the streets and not running into any gov school kids is strange. It’s like Kristen said—it’s like time froze for five weeks. We’ve progressed and we must now reenter this world that’s no longer ours, no longer familiar, no longer comfortable. Our thirst for significance can no longer be quenched by the futility of our daily summer lives here in suburbia. In five weeks we have become learned, cultured, progressive—things Souderton most definitely is not. No longer do I feel like I belong in this backward place.

But this afternoon, I was reintroduced to the one thing that governor’s school lacks—nature. A physical adventure. Two and a half hours on the bike with trees arching over gravel paths, Queen Anne’s lace and hoof prints rushing by through the scrubby rolling hills, wind on my face, mud on my legs, a pounding heart that finally wasn’t caused by standing in front of a large crowd.

And—wildly, for I’ve never biked on the Perkiomen Trail before—I was home. In my element. Allowing a rush of endorphins to brush a wicked smile on my face as I pushed harder and harder, racing the birds, the sun, and the water itself as sweat poured and pulse pounded. Feelings of accomplishment and satisfaction that I haven’t felt in, oh—five weeks, give or take.

Of course, finally release came in the form of an Oreo sonic blast and Peter Gabriel on the minivan’s stereo. The old friend and the new me were as full of life as ever—talking, laughing, even dancing. Thank god—well, thank Aubrey anyway—even as my newly calloused hands scrub the grease and mud off me, I remember that I can survive here, so long as I reconnect with the things (and people!) I missed.

Yup, I'm Home.

And I think I'm going to start blogging...either here on facebook or through a wordpress or something along those lines. I just need a place to express myself--I think some last vestiges of that Gov School narcissism are still with me. Apologies.

As the title states...yup, I'm home. And somewhat happy. I missed my momma, my bed, and my hair dryer...my boy, my friends, my books...wawa...the smell of rain, the sound of thunder, sleep. My closet. My shoes. Lots of things.

But I miss Gov School a lot more. Forbes avenue, 5th avenue, Craig street. Schenley. Soldiers and Sailors. David Lawrence. Posvar, for christ's sake. Reed. Corbesero. Shallenberger. Glasgow. Even...Kabala? what the hell?! Every single RTA. Every single student--but especially team Kenya, and above all, my Wing girls. The things I can't say here--fuck me sideways. Bitches and Hoes. Fuck my life. Or even the short and sweet "Yo, Bitch." And of course, TGIF, Motherfuckers.

I'm disgusted to report that I've been...reflecting. Damn it. Old habits die hard, I suppose. And I realized that I've learned a a lot about the world, and myself. And despite all of the work, I'd rather be across the state LEARNING. I wonder how my curiosity will ever be satisfied back in a school full of kids that don't care, teachers that try their damnedest to share their knowledge, and administrators that block them in every way they can. And how will I get used to being 'that kid' again? The only one with opinions, the only one willing to raise her hand, the only girl willing to rub elbows with the guys and prove herself to her peers, her teachers, etc...

Alright, maybe being that angsty isn't justified. I have to turn this around, manipulate the anger until it turns into something else. Inspiration? Drive? Yeah, that sounds good. They were always there, always a part of me, they've just been inflated by the experience. And at Souderton that might make me a Clinton wannabe, or a bitch,or a dyke, any number of things, but I don't care. One day people around here will start to learn what success is--they'll be surprised to find it's not money, not brand names, not beauty.

it's happiness, and confidence...