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 |  My first ever Writing.com journal. |
| god what a beautiful day. nonstop rain since ten, and now thunder. mystical wonder of the heavens. the vendors didn't come today. suuuuuch a good thing. if at twenty i am a woman, then according to cappucine's thing, i should have...a bunch of stuff. let's see how i measure up. (am i about to completely depress myself? let's hope not.) got one to add to the end, too. that's hopefully not just specific to me. says she, a woman should have: ...one old love she can imagine going back to...and one who reminds her how far she has come... hmm. seems like maturity would give the advantage here, because i haven't had time for many of what i'd consider "great loves." the second, at least, is a possibility but a stretch. it hasn't been that long since i was a total disaster. ...enough money within her control to move out and rent a place of her own even if she never wants to or needs to... this, well, yes. technically, yes. i have the verizon money and the tutoring money, which, combined, would be enough to rent a low-end apartment in atlanta for a little over a year. but my parents are hugely focused on education, such that it's been made clear--my job is to learn as much as i can, to develop an intellectual and professional self. i'm earning my keep by staying in school. if i were to quit before graduation, then i'd have to get a steady job and pay rent. never move out. they like me to know i've always got a home with them, six-figure income or not. but, short answer, yes. i could move out. and starve. ...something perfect to wear if the employer or date of her dreams wants to see her in an hour... this i'll need to work on. the date of my dreams loves me in low-rise jeans and a sparkly tank top, but i've been known to throw together some awkward combos for interviews and stuff. krystle has promised to take me shoe-shopping this weekend. at my mom's request. "don't you dare go without krystle. you don't know how to pick a shoe to save your life." it's true. i can't argue it. i hate shoes. ...a youth she's content to leave behind... working on that. i'm content not to be fourteen anymore. i'd never relive high school or my preteen years. and, i mean, for the time being, that's my past. ...a past juicy enough that she's looking forward to retelling it in her old age... well. see above. i've got things i'd rather not retell in my old age, but that'll make nice memories to fondle on pinochle club off-nights. ...a set of screwdrivers, cordless drill, and a black lace bra... screwdrivers yes. my dad gave me a tiny, comical set of tools in a pink plastic case for my fifteenth birthday, and then tried to show me how to use them. that day was probably the low point in our relationship. anyway, i've got the screwdrivers and no knowledge of what to do with them. no cordless drill. everyone knows i'd put holes in my own left hand. black lace bra...doesn't seem to jive with the rest of this list, but i guess i can see where it'd be good to have. i don't like lace, it itches, and i actually prefer bras that are closer to my skin tone. ...one friend who always makes her laugh...and one who lets her cry... like cappucine, i've got both of these in the same person. all my male friends make me laugh. and i can cry wherever i want, literally at the drop of a hat, but it only feels better to do it with krystle. ...a good piece of furniture not previously owned by anyone else in her family... ...well, i have a new tv. oh, and my bed-and-dresser set at home. nothing else. ...eight matching plates, wine glasses with stems, and a recipe for a meal that will make her guests feel honored... not so much. not personally. but i know how to make szechuan chicken. ...a feeling of control over her destiny... alas. ahem. apparently a woman should also know: ...how to fall in love without losing herself... i didn't know, at first. i've since figured it out. it's something we're both working on. i've never "lost" my self but i have betrayed her, on occasion. ...how to quit a job, break up with a lover, and confront a friend without ruining the friendship... no, yes, yes. ...and how to change a tire!... i'm sorry! i swear i'll learn by twenty-one! i know the spare goes in the flappy thing in the trunk of the car... ...when to try harder...and when to walk away... i always try. i give everyone, and everything, the benefit of the doubt. it takes a serious and deliberate act of malice to push me away. ...that she can't change the length of her calves, the width of her hips, or the nature of her parents... my calves are fine. i wouldn't trade my hips for anything. i would like bigger breasts, more manageable hair, uneventful skin and nails that stayed groomed without my involvement. but i understand that those things cost thousands of dollars and are ultimately not worth it. and i like my parents. particularly when they're in silver spring and i'm in atlanta. they have taught me more than i'd have learned from a less neurotic pair. ...that her childhood may not have been perfect...but it's over... well. this is that in between time, when it is technically over, but keeps leaping forth from the past to lick me, like a twig on fire. it had its very very high points. it had its inevitable lows. but yes, it's over, and till i'm ready to write my memoirs or whatever, it really doesn't matter, much. ...what she would and wouldn't do for love or more... i know what i wouldn't do. not what i would. i used to have lists of those kinds of things, before i met marcus. ...how to live alone...even if she doesn't like it... i understand the need for companionship, but i think it's important to have the resources for living alone. financially and otherwise. it takes a strong relationship with oneself to pull it off, yes, but that's a good thing to have. it's one of the most important relationships one can develop. and, i mean, i've always technically had a roommate, but switching from one random person to the next is kind of like living alone. in the end you don't depend on anyone, your schedule is your own, it's up to you to motivate yourself and to time your mom-calls with some strategy. ...whom she can trust, whom she can't, and why she shouldn't take it personally... yes, yes, no. i trust maybe eight people. seven definitely, one maybe (jury's still out), and that's enough. ultimately you have to trust yourself. people make it pretty obvious when you can't trust them. and when they don't want you to. but i do take it personally. we all have to live together, people. gosh. ...where to go...be it to her best friend's kitchen table...or a charming inn in the woods...when her soul needs soothing... yes. i've got options. ...what she can and can't accomplish in a day...a month...and a year. yes. everything. and i'm totally serious. then there's some stuff about passing it along, blah blah. not going to put anyone through that. but here are my little additions, not sure they belong on this otherwise uplifting list but i'm going to put them out there anyway. every woman should also have a portable tampon cache, a pair of jeans that feel so good it doesn't matter how boxy they make her look, an alternate route home in case of sketchy curb characters, one woman she hates blindly without really knowing her--just as a vessel for the offenses of all others--and one she idolizes just as much, a trusted platonic male who reminds her of the truth about men, a song to fall asleep to and an emotional home where she can be totally, totally alone. now i feel better. because i have all of those things. number four in spades. |
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