Can I have a catch?

It's hard to forget that day. It was ten days before the beginning of a new school year. It was ten days before I began my official graduate work. And it was 10 days before my 22nd birthday. The sun was shining like only the sun in the mid-west in late summer can shine. It was at an angle, as it was well past noon and the leaves were slightly rustling in the wind that never stops blowing on campus. I was walking the mile towards ARC, the gym on campus reminding my shell of a self that I was happy and healthy and of course, that life would move on. It always moves on, with, or without you. I was at the lowest point on the scale by then. Imagine a 5 foot 10, athletic build of a young woman weighing in barely over 140. I'd stared at my peanut butter and strawberry sandwich earlier in the day trying to convince my stomach that it did in fact want sustenance. It had continued to be a losing battle all summer. But hell, my clothes were loose and I felt sort of like a supermodel, albeit a starved, shaking one. Clad in my black and green flip flops, those silly stretchy black capri yoga pants I could never seem to drop off at Goodwill and my lacy maroon tank-top, I skipped down the stairs to the main floor of the climbing wall and checked in. "Hey Sam! How's that castle problem you've been working on? Figured it out yet?" Frothingham (Froth for short) yelled out from behind the desk. "Not yet. But I'm working on it. I've got a long ways to go." I replied jovially. I still hadn't manged to work past 5.9's and it was a point of contention with myself I'd been working on. "Eh. You'll get it. Let me know if you need any help. I'm belaying later." "You bet! Thanks." I probably would ask him later for a catch, but I wasn't ready yet. I'd use the auto-belay for awhile. I hate depending on other people for help, even if it's expected of me. I walked past a few faces I knew after weeks of climbing and a few people I nonchalantly said hi to. I wasn't really in the mood to talk to anyone and sat down on the bench to get my super tight shoes on and harness-up. I can honestly say whoever thought it was a brilliant idea to wear shoes that cut off circulation even before giving the wearer a blister, climbing; well they were on my list. Sadly I had succumbed to popular convention and had bought a pair of shoes two sizes too small for me. I'd suffered through them all summer. Wincing I stood up and went for the easiest of the auto-belay routes. I had to double check that I'd tied in, because once I had forgotten, climbed up 20 feet and realized my error. I had never instantly become that scared, but down-climbing had been a fete I wasn't eager to duplicate. Climbing up one hold at a time I could feel my muscles warming up and remembering what the whole climbing thing was about. After coming down and choosing one a little harder, my confidence was slowly building and I was ready to attempt the castle problem again. The only problem was I couldn't auto-belay on it. I needed help and hated asking for it. However, in normal climbing fashion, I walked up to a guy I'd seen around in the gym named Andrew and asked if he wouldn't mind belaying me. I offered to reciprocate the favor, but he said he'd already gotten a partner that day. I looked at the guy next to him who seemed almost to slink back on the bench with an intent look on his face. Fine I thought, it's just for this one catch anyways. The partner finally decided to introduce himself as Steve. For all that we would go through later, you'd think I would have remembered what he was wearing, or the overall impression he left on me. Honestly, I'm pretty sure I thought he was kind of short, but that's it. Funny the way memory works. "Nice to meet you", I said in my friendliest voice. I knew I was interrupting the normal two person climbing most people are used to and was anxious to re-attempt my most recent failure; well aside from losing my boyfriend to a tall, Viking-type, blonde skank. Eh, you can't win them all. After we had tied in, and I started climbing, I felt pretty good about myself. I was about halfway up when I reached the crux of the problem. I had to jump just a little bit to reach the next hand-hold, and up until then had continually come up short. It was sort of embarrassing, but everyone has to start somewhere. So I kept at it. This time, I went for it. My other hand slipped almost simultaneously as the other hand went up. I caught the hold I wanted, but lost my feet holds too. I was hanging from my one arm and to be honest, wasn't all that strong to begin with. I felt my shoulder do something quite strange, but didn't think too much of it. I gave up on that route after a few more tries, but got onto two other routes. The longer I climbed, the more my shoulder hurt. Eventually my pain threshold was reached and I said goodbye to the two guys and thanked them for climbing with me. I begged off more routes on account of my shoulder and went for a run instead. I flew up the two flights of stairs up to the running track that circled the majority of the building. I loved the expansive windows and the ability to check out the fitness class rooms, weight lifting area, outdoor pool and the indoor basketball courts. In the same moment I could feel completely alone and independent and yet an integral part of the campus machine. I laced up my shoes, did a quick stretch, and was off, running like a hamster blissfully unaware that it's going nowhere. Unaware that fate had other plans for me, I enjoyed the sun dipping toward the horizon and a good beat in my iPOD. I almost tripped over Steve on my 5th lap. I still think he almost ran into me to get my attention. "Hey. I just moved on to campus and don't really know anyone. I was wondering if you'd be up for grabbing a drink or food later on." he asked, without a hint of awkwardness. For the life of me, I had no idea why he'd want to get to know me of all people, but I agreed to give him my number and make plans later. I didn't have my phone on me, so it rang in the locker rooms somewhere. With nothing left to say, I took off to finish my run and he disappeared. I didn't even watch him go. Who was he anyways? What use were MBA students in the first place? Just guys with overstuffed egos! That's who.

the marine - intro

It all happened so fast, faster than I was ready for. In fact, I didn't know, couldn't have seen it coming. See, I had just broken up with my cheating ass-hole of a now, ex-boyfriend. To say I was devastated is probably the largest understatement in the world. I had lost about 20 pounds out of despair and disbelief. How could he do that to me? I still saw him almost daily at the lab I worked in, and could barely get up in the mornings. I shook constantly and had only survived thanks to my two best friends, Kayla and Darius. They basically lived with me that summer. And then Kayla left for graduate school and Darius moved out. I was still trying to hold it together. I went through the motions of a life I was slowly piecing together. It was so long ago, I wonder if I even remember it.

Back In the USA

So I've been back in the states for two weeks now. Things have been going OK, but I feel empty, lost. This world isn't my world. But I don't have a world that I fit into. However, I'm not going to write anything else for tonight. I'm tired. But maybe tomorrow, I'll scribe down my adventures from India. It'll explain the end of April, May and the beginning of June. The most consistently I've written in ages... maybe ever. But then again I had a lot to say and lots of time to say it in.

UIUC - you are my sweetest downfall

I think that I'm using my crazy, bitter grad student persona to hide the real truth. I'm sad. I'm really truly sad about leaving. Not sad in the sense that I'm going to sabotage my own efforts. For sure I'm getting the heck out of here. No doubt about that.

But the things I KNOW I'll miss hit me at the strangest times.

For example, I'll miss walking down the quad and crunching the beautiful fall leaves beneath my feet, or watching the pure innocence of a person's first snow quickly followed by the adulteration of that snow, with snowball fights and snow forts. I'm going to miss how green the quad smells after a rain, hell even during a rain. I can just feel the earth moving beneath and all around me. Even the downpours I've experienced can't alter my love of this campus.

I'll miss the energy (that I claim I hate). The dumb freshman I absolutely love making fun of. I'll miss being looked up to by undergraduates and feeling needed, admired and respected. I'll miss commiserating with my fellow graduate students who share the same sinister love of our great works. The doors of ISR will never be as friendly to me as the night Kari and I went for a run and then mud sliding... only to creep into ISR leaving a guilty trail the entire way to our rooms. And although I haven't been in Hopkins hall since my long ago undergraduate days, I'll miss waking up on the weekends with a gaggle of wonderful man-children finding their place in the world and enjoying the peace of a wonderful Sunday brunch. NHB will always feel like the old, decrepit home I know I belong to, whether or not the faces there remain memorable. The mid-line of the stadium will forever remind me that I should never run a half-marathon EVER again. Fox Meadow will always be full of geese and sleet and slush... and friendship. The pool will just be a MES (Mary, Ed, Sam) of memories. And Crane Alley, a continuoum of my life that makes bad memories pass and always creates new memories. And to Siam Terrace, for becoming friends with Amanda and learning how awkward Bruce really is. To Beckman Institute where I fell in love for all the wrong reasons. And 258 NHB where I fell in love for all the right reasons and never acted on them. For my shower on the 5th floor of ISR where I learned the extent of man's boldness and late-night where I was shown the extent of man's friendship... I'll never forget this place.

Don't Fucking Mess with Me

So I've been on edge a little bit lately. But more than on edge. I've been harboring some serious anger. Anything that goes against my plan receives some seriously negative feedback.

And I wish I could do something about it... but I'm sort of on this steamroller mode. Get with my program or get the hell out of my way.

Now normally I'd like to think I'm a fairly decent human being. Thanks to Borsey confirming that thought... most likely I'm not too crappy on the horrible human meter. However, the last two weeks or so I've been ready to rip people's heads off.

Don't tell me I'm doing something wrong. Don't question my judgment. Don't second-guess me. Don't make me late. Don't give me more work. Don't mess with my schedule. And you better not tell me that I'm intelligible.

Three most recent examples:

1. Borsey and I have a fantastic relationship. We harass each other and demean each other in jest. It builds our bond and I can't help but feel like we truly understand each other. We know that deep beneath our crusty, cranky, cynical exterior: well there is a wonderful person capable of immense amounts of empathy and compassion. Our cranky-ness is our shell.

Anyways, I haven't been able to take the teasing lately. It's nothing against Borsey. And I still appreciate the humor and the depreciation. It still makes our friendship what it is. However, my shell is really thin. It's thin and fragile.

**Tangent**
Right now I need a brick wall to protect me from my terror of not finishing my thesis, not being ready to go to India, not being able to handle my move to Houston. It's a big scary world out there. And to be honest, I still feel like a 7 year old who needs my dad around to protect me and help me make good decisions. I know I've thanked my parents in the past. They've done a thousand amazing things for me and I appreciate them. However, it's not until big life changing events occur that I realize how much I still need them and depend on them. For heaven's sake, my dad is flying down with me to Houston to look at apartments. I know that I don't actually "need" him there, and I'm pretty sure he knows I can find an apartment on my own. I've done it three times already. But I need his support. I need his presence. I need his reassurance that he's there, and he will be there. I'm worried about leaving. I'm worried about putting a barrier between us. And I'm scared. The beautiful part is that I think he knows that I'm scared. Because his love is boundless for me, he's willing to put aside the thought of the cost of the trip to fly down to Houston, and just go. He loves me so much that he's able to let me fly away. How amazing is that? I know he'd rather have me around, but he's so supportive. It's wonderful. Absolutely wonderful. I couldn't have ever asked for a better dad.

**End Tangent**

2. I yelled at Stacy today. Her and her friends got to Sammy's Diner before me this morning, had ordered and got their food and ate half of it by the time I got there. I was mad that we couldn't go to cracker barrel, and that she had her entourage with her, and it wasn't on my schedule. It wasn't on my time. And I got mad. So I yelled at her for lying to me about when she got to Sammy's. I don't know if she was or not, but it felt like it. (I'm a crazy person!)

3. After calming down from breakfast (I terrorized her roommate Susan and friend Kim.) Stacy and I went to go see The Adjustment Bureau. The movie was wonderful. I really liked how deep it went and how much of a "thinker" the movie was. And I continued to be in a good mood until we drove back to my spot to find a Cadillac where my Nissan should go. Basically we called the towing company and got that car out of there SO fast. I was so mad though. How dare that person take my spot? How dare they cramp my style and waste my time? I was really angry. Stacy took it rather well, but I was P.O.ed. Ugh. I need to go to India... where it's pretty and relaxing, and different.

The Story - Part 2

The lack of anything remotely amazing happening during our meeting could have been a sign that our acquaintance wasn't anything special. And in fact, life went on as it usually did for me. I only saw Alex at our weekly class. He hung out with the "popular kids", if in fact geology students have the capacity to be popular. I had my own issues to be dealt with anyways.

I was the awkward "non-geologist" sophomore in the front row raising my hand and asking a thousand questions. I still led a sheltered life and didn't even know to be embarrassed by my lack of style or sophistication. Thanks to my father, who never apologized for being himself or even thought to try being something different, I never had the self-consciousness of most people my age. My job in school was to learn as much as I could and get good grades with the expectation that one day I would graduate and get a well paying job. In my own mind's eye, that meant raising my hand continually in order to absorb every single detail.

My boyfriend at the time, Kirk, encouraged good grades and work ethics, so I never felt alone in my struggle for perfection. Kirk was a mechanical engineer, a year and a half my senior, as well as my high school sweetheart. We had met when I was a freshman in high school and things progressed as usual. We went to dances, hung out with friends, laughed, fought, supported each other, challenged each other, and were deeply in love.

He had left for college a year ahead of me and we were still working on our closer proximity relationship. To be honest, our relationship was toxic, but not in the way that you'd expect. We never demeaned nor physically intimidated each other. We were polite and expressive of our feelings. The toxicity in our relationship, in retrospect, stemmed from me. I felt suffocated. I loved Kirk with my entire being, but I was afraid to "be me." I wanted to study abroad and experiment in life and carve my own life out of my blank college slate. In some ways I felt that Kirk was superior to myself. He never wavered in his beliefs nor in his confidence of self. I didn't, and still don't have that rigid of a belief structure. He didn't back down in arguments and most times I would begrudgingly cede the point to avoid escalating the fight. To be honest, he was just better at getting his point across and argued like a master debater. I'm more of a negotiator, and I always felt like I had lost something after our arguments, which led to quite a bit of withheld resentment.

I don't actually remember if I had met Alex before or after Kirk and I had hit our breaking point. Alex was in no way a factor in the ending of Kirk's and my relationship. Dan, however, was. Dan was the complete opposite of Kirk. If you could typify a rebound relationship, ours was it. Kirk and I had broken up hours before Dan and I first kissed, and days before we first had sex. I was high on my new freedom and felt alive for the first time in years. I laughed louder, risked more, smiled incessantly and dared others to question or judge me. I almost got fired from my job as a resident adviser for missing rounds and broke curfew constantly. I almost got arrested twice during my short jaunt with Dan. Both times we were rollerblading: once was trespassing on the assembly hall and the other was not wearing the proper night safety equipment while skating in the middle of the road. I also began catching Dan in lies. Some were innocent, such as, lying about what he was doing in his room: studying vs. playing video games. Others concerned me, such as who he was hanging out with at home and how many driving tickets he repeatedly got.

Although Dan and I were together, I was not even close to being over Kirk. I talked about him incessantly, obsessed about what he was doing, wondered what he would think about what I was doing and wanted approval from him just as much as when we were dating, if not more. We tried to remain friends, but the more we held on, the harder we hurt each other. Not used to hiding the truth from each other, everything that happened with other people was laid down on the table every time we had dinner together. It was fresh salt and lime juice on our wounds every time. In retrospect, I'm positive that Dan realized I wasn't yet over Kirk, but never did he mention his concerns.

The most valuable thing I got out of my relationship with Dan was the friends I made on his floor. I ended up becoming best friends with his neighbor Brett, who lived down the hall. I even dated a veritable barrage of the guys from the floor over the course of my time in college. My best snowboard buddy Darius also lived on that floor, although I was actually to meet him later.

Obviously I tired of the rule breaking, the lying and the late nights. During Thanksgiving break Brett and I were hanging out and decided to go bowling. Dan had texted me asking what I was up to. It was the second time in over a week I had heard from him, and was disappointed in his lack of attention. I told him hanging out with Brett. Dan was upset, but his frustration was masked by his constant need to appear a "tough" guy. He wasn't fooling anyone.

The day we all got back, a bunch of us decided to play broomball. Broomball is basically hockey on ice without skates. Running around an ice-rink in tennis shoes trying to score points at midnight is a most excellent way to spend an evening. I was thoroughly enjoying myself when James (a beautiful example of the Aryan human form of man) collided with Dan and sent him reeling to the ground. Dan was mad at being beaten, but instead of taking it, well, like a man. He choose to cry about it. As soon as those tears began to fall, I lost total and complete respect for Dan as a person. I don't care how hard you get hit on the ice, you don't cry like a pansy baby. Not even I had cried when I cracked my kneecap years earlier on the ice. Sadly I still had the title of girlfriend, so I had to back up Dan. I told off James and the good humor of the game was gone. We decided to call it quits. I could barely look at Dan.

Later that evening, with Dan safely tucked in for the night, Brett and I decided to grab some late-night food and chat. By then, we were both quite tired of Dan and all of his shenanigans. We spent hours complaining about his bad habits, making fun of his clothing, questioning his place at a top tier university and began a friendship that evolved a great deal since then. The noteworthy conclusion to that evening was our decision to live together the following year. I couldn't handle being a resident adviser another year and Brett dreaded living with Dan as a roommate. Shaking hands as our agreement contract as well as our goodnight, we decided to give Dan the bad news in the morning. I would be breaking up with Dan. Brett would be breaking off the idea of living with him. Sometime after that we would tell him that Brett and I would be living together. It was just dessert we honestly felt he deserved. In fact, I still don't regret that somewhat jaded decision.

Our late-night chats became a nightly routine we kept for the entire year. It was also probably the cause of my belated freshman fifteen which I eventually acquired by the end of my sophomore year. I had an unlimited amount of food credits due to my job in university housing, and freely shared them with my friends.

Just before Christmas Brett broke up with his girlfriend Ashley. Actually I have to say they rushed to break up with each other. It was honestly a contest to see who would be the first to say it. I wasn't specifically in their presence when it happened; I was in the shower. However, I was the cause of it. Due to our late night conversations, working out, dining together and all around close friendship, Ashley was completely jealous. I'm not going to say that she didn't have a right to be, but up until then, our relationship was completely platonic. During the week between the breakup and winter break, Brett and I spent almost all of our free time together. Jason Mratz was the artist of our favorite ukulele song and we crammed for all of our exams between watching the Simpsons and getting late-night goodies. In the course of that week, I developed a rather serious crush on Brett. I admired and appreciated his humor, wit, self-depreciating jokes and his dedication to improving himself. I was smitten. I was also pragmatic about the situation. We would both be at our respective homes over break, so there was no reason to start up something until the following semester.

A couple of things occurred during break that put a wrench in that plan. First and most importantly, Brett began dating Olivia. I'll never forget the first thing Brett said about Olivia when he met her. He said she was the most annoying girl he'd ever met and never, in a thousand years date her. A week later, they were an item. Even Brett will agree it was a bad decision brought on by too much beer and loneliness. I never forgave him for it. Of course, I never told him that, and we remained inseparable friends for many years.

I also went on a two week trip to Curacao for my geology class. This was when my crush on Alex was supported by time and proximity together. Nothing amazing happened except that I was able to see the fun loving, jokester side of Alex from afar. I had nothing I could really say to him and for the most part, kept to myself. That's not to say that I didn't have fun on the trip. I had an amazing time. I earned the nickname Queen Neptune from my abilities to snorkel down to around 20 meters where as most people could only manage 5 to 10 feet. I tried Dutch cheese, learned swear words in Papiamentu, and reveled in the sunshine and surf of the beautiful island of Curacao. I returned refreshed and renewed.

Spring semester began with a bang, well a banging, ringing head. I was back on campus because of my job; as was James, the guy who had made Dan cry. James was this enigma to me. He was strong, powerful and not just a little full of himself. However the women he spend his time with were weak willed, spineless and allowed James to do whatever he wanted. We exchanged rather steamy conversations more often that appropriate and as things will, it came to a head. One night we decided to hang out, watch movies and get drunk. I think we both knew what was coming and even celebrated it. The night began to get rather fuzzy, but I do remember three things very clearly. 1. James carried me from my couch to my bed, a great distance of about 5 feet. 2. We made out. 3. We didn't have sex, but James was naked when I woke up.

Brett had repeatedly told me not to do anything with James. Sadly, whenever someone tells me that I can't do something, I do just the opposite. It's made me quite accomplished in my field of study and some other things as well. I took Brett's suggestion as a dare but felt guilty telling him. Brett knew the instant he got back to campus and we were all hanging out together. He questioned me, and I denied it. I denied it for a year, but eventually admitted to it when we were living together.

The Story - Part 1

Not so long ago I was inflamed by a dream gone awry. I was consumed with a passion, no: an illusion; fervent and vivid. In the darkest hours of night the boundary between reality and mirage blended into an obscure shadow. The first light rays of dawn was my saving grace. Hot tea in hand watching a new day arrive, I would stare into the very heavens, hunted by my own construct.

I had never known dreams to be bad things. I had been encouraged since infancy to dream big and go after my goals. What exactly was wrong with this dream of mine? I couldn't have told you back then. It's taken me years to piece everything together, and it's still foggy. The one thing I can tell you, I met my illusion in August with the beginning of my sophomore year in full swing.

My illusion seemed to be carved out of David's very same marble. He was a full six foot five inch splice of man caught somewhere between adolescence and adulthood. Sandy blond hair and piercing glacier blue eyes drew all attention from his button nose and oval jawline. However the most striking feature by far was his smile. His toothy grin was earnest and friendly. It made me appreciated and uneasy all at once. His name was Alex.

I remember walking back to my dormitory thinking back through our rather limited conversation and reliving the highlights. After arriving, I called my friend Brett to find out if everyone was meeting up for dinner. Wednesday night went the same it usually did. A bunch of us met up for dinner, talked and ate too much and then spent the evening working on homework while watching crappy television shows in the background. The earth hadn't moved, the sky hadn't opened up nor had stars exploded across the night sky. I had no warning for what was to come.