May 18, 2009

  • To think not too long ago I was worrying I didn't update my Xanga enough. Should I work on my paper tonight? If I get to sleep at 2, I can wake up at 10:30 like I usually would've for Sundays. If I work on my paper, I get some work done I don't have to worry about on Monday (a day before the paper is done). I'm more likely to actually work on Monday, though (in theory). All in all, waking up before 12 is probably a wise idea. Bed it is then, after this entry.

    So, when asked about what I miss about HS/home, I usually respond that it's the sense of community that was there. I was placed with people I knew pretty damn well, comfortable in my skin as a result, and actually cared about (which is turning into more of a surprise to me than I certainly expected). For all it was worth, it was definitely a worthwhile experience. But none of this information is new.

    I was looking through some of the photos of Prom, reflecting over the news I had heard (though slight) of back home, and I was struck by just how utterly left out I felt. Which, of course, is to be expected - it's been a year I've been gone. And people do have lives, after all.

    I know some have joked that I was kind of the "parent" (often the specific wording was mother, but I take umbridge with that specific label) of a good deal of my friends. While logically generally stated by those 2 grades younger than me, Monica has noted that a lot of the people who spent time together (in her perspective) were brought together because I knew most of them. She felt kind of isolated from some people this year because she didn't know them as well. While this sentiment might be true for some, I've never assumed, or would think to assume, that this is true for many (it's one thing to be appreciated; to think you have a specialized place of importance borders on egoism).

    However, to an extent, there is a bit of that feeling. For the Seniors this year, not so much (though I do feel like I have no clue what's going on in their lives, for the most part). But for the Juniors? Even the Sophomores this year - while I didn't know many (or that well), these guys still have, at minimum, a year to go. I feel I ought to be there. There's so much they're going to go through. And I'm totally missing these huge times of our friendship.

    Again, though, this should come at no surprise. I've always been someone with a deep-seated need (I think I wouldn't be over-stepping with using need) for a community. I love history and honestly feel left out if something (let's take the long history and in-jokes of homestarrunner.com) has a extensive past history that I don't know entirely. When someone makes a reference to something that happened in the past - I feel this odd melancholy of isolation. Of course, when it comes to actual people, it's a little more serious.

    So (brief, slight shift in subject), I never understood that idea of sitting around and talking. Granted, I never did well socially in groups of people I don't know well - this might explain when my parents would go out and drag us (the kids) along, I didn't do well mingling. Give me my corner and let me dwell. But amongst those I do know, I've discovered this year I do better. And, for me at least, it's a way to get to know people better. And with all the ideology I continually spew, I think we all know that the notion of knowing others better is probably one I'd subscribe to easily and quickly. Fully endorse, we might say....

    In any case, it helps also foster this idea of community. And I've realized what I'll need someday - a stable community. Something where I can always return. A family, of sorts.

    Because of the unity my cousins and my siblings and I had (until our parents all separated to different locations), I plan to someday run the idea by them of having all of us live in a cluster together someday. That way that same friendship and bond could happen with them as it did with us. Either way, I need a sense of community (no, nvm, not a sense - the actual thing). It would be nice.