Saturday, May 24, 2008
Last week, before we left for my brother's graduation in North Carolina, my dad and I sat in the living room (my parents' living room) silently. We are a lot alike, my father and I. Observers--patient--always thinking. So I knew he was contemplating my brother's latest milestone in his usual quiet manner before he even said "When Ryan was packing the other day, I thought 'So this is really it..." implying that now that he and I have both left, our parents' role in our lives has evolved into something different than "Daddy, I fell down the stairs-I need a band-aid" and the games we created during thousands of backseat car rides. My dad's nostalgia always gets me because, like mine, his memory is vast and he is able to capture the details and describe them in a way that I can truly remember. Not many people I know can do this...people have a tendency to forget. Oh did that really happen? I'm glad you remember that, because I certainly don't. I don't know how people forget the moments in their lives when in the end, they make up everything you are.
As we were sitting there, we fell back into silence after I reassured him that Ryan would be back, and may even eventually find a position in New York City or somewhere closer...but Dad was adamant. "Yeah, but...it's still not here." And don't get me wrong, he is not wishing for my brother to stay at home and find a local job at all. But there's a part of him, as there's always a part of me, that wistfully wishes that some things could stay the same even as our lives take different paths. After a few more moments, I began thinking of all the events that had happened even in that very room that defined me. We moved there in August 1993, before my freshman year at Masuk. I recall the living room being bare, the French doors shiny, and our neighbors bringing banana bread into the chaos that was our new home. I can fastforward a few years and see myself sitting cross-legged at my 16th birthday party, surrounded by my friends, laughing and watching "A Miracle on 34th Street" in the background. I can visually see Rachel, Kim and I making up a dance on my back deck.
As I quietly played these images through my mind, I turned to my dad and said, "Did you ever think about how many people have been through this space, this living room, over the years?" I explained how I can sometimes see events play out in a sort of time lapse...people coming in, sitting on the couch, going to the refrigerator for a drink, coming back, leaving, watching movies, going outside, flirting, laughing, hugging, crying. I said, "It kind of reminds me of Koyaanisqatsi."
This film was fascinating to me, even as a child. My dad played it for my brother and I sometime in the mid-80's, and the haunting, melancholy score stayed with me for years. It basically shows the juxtaposition of people and technology and what humans have done to the Earth by merely developing as we have. In certain scenes, the time lapse speeds up to show hundreds of people flying through the grocery store, up the escalator, through the streets of big cities. Anyway, I thought of my old house like that...capturing the moments from chorus concerts to high school graduation to new boyfriends and break-ups to college and another graduation. How would my life look if I were able to capture it in the style of Koyaanisqatsi?
The trip to North Carolina was great. I proudly watched my brother's face at the hooding ceremony last Sunday night, right before he received his MBA. I saw the person he has become, and not just the little brother that he always has been to me. He has come a long way from sniffing packs of Carefree bubble gum when he was 3...from making forts with his stuffed animals, playing Contra and Ninja Gaiden, and saying "NO! Duh, duh, duuhhhhh!" in that manic, shrill voice as he cocked his head.
We have both succeeded.
As we were sitting there, we fell back into silence after I reassured him that Ryan would be back, and may even eventually find a position in New York City or somewhere closer...but Dad was adamant. "Yeah, but...it's still not here." And don't get me wrong, he is not wishing for my brother to stay at home and find a local job at all. But there's a part of him, as there's always a part of me, that wistfully wishes that some things could stay the same even as our lives take different paths. After a few more moments, I began thinking of all the events that had happened even in that very room that defined me. We moved there in August 1993, before my freshman year at Masuk. I recall the living room being bare, the French doors shiny, and our neighbors bringing banana bread into the chaos that was our new home. I can fastforward a few years and see myself sitting cross-legged at my 16th birthday party, surrounded by my friends, laughing and watching "A Miracle on 34th Street" in the background. I can visually see Rachel, Kim and I making up a dance on my back deck.
As I quietly played these images through my mind, I turned to my dad and said, "Did you ever think about how many people have been through this space, this living room, over the years?" I explained how I can sometimes see events play out in a sort of time lapse...people coming in, sitting on the couch, going to the refrigerator for a drink, coming back, leaving, watching movies, going outside, flirting, laughing, hugging, crying. I said, "It kind of reminds me of Koyaanisqatsi."
This film was fascinating to me, even as a child. My dad played it for my brother and I sometime in the mid-80's, and the haunting, melancholy score stayed with me for years. It basically shows the juxtaposition of people and technology and what humans have done to the Earth by merely developing as we have. In certain scenes, the time lapse speeds up to show hundreds of people flying through the grocery store, up the escalator, through the streets of big cities. Anyway, I thought of my old house like that...capturing the moments from chorus concerts to high school graduation to new boyfriends and break-ups to college and another graduation. How would my life look if I were able to capture it in the style of Koyaanisqatsi?
The trip to North Carolina was great. I proudly watched my brother's face at the hooding ceremony last Sunday night, right before he received his MBA. I saw the person he has become, and not just the little brother that he always has been to me. He has come a long way from sniffing packs of Carefree bubble gum when he was 3...from making forts with his stuffed animals, playing Contra and Ninja Gaiden, and saying "NO! Duh, duh, duuhhhhh!" in that manic, shrill voice as he cocked his head.
We have both succeeded.
Sunday, May 4, 2008
I hate dust. I am sitting here attempting to write and to concentrate on stringing words together, when all I can see is a sheen of dust on the hardwood floor beneath my couch. It's driving me crazy even though I just vacuumed and dusted yesterday. I am that type of person. The type who takes care of homework first as opposed to going outside to play on the swings first. The type who mows the lawn before going out to lunch with friends. Of course I will definitely swing on the swings and meet my friends for lunch, but only after I have completed the necessary tasks; all in due time. I hate having chores or responsibilities hanging over my head when I am supposed to be enjoying myself. So here it is, Sunday evening, and all I want is to relax and sit and write, while the sensible side of me feels like I should march downstairs, grab the vacuum cleaner again and go to town on the dust bunnies, wreaking havoc on their little dust bunny village. But I won't.
This weekend has been rewardingly long despite the fact that I slept in until 9:30 and 10:00 both days (that is unprecedented for me). We didn't have a lot going on so I spent the majority of yesterday afternoon and this morning propped up on my couch (with the dust bunny village below) reading a very interesting story called The Thirteenth Tale. I call it a story rather than a novel or a book because it certainly was written by a storyteller. I loved the twists and turns surrounding the twins, and I really became enraptured while reading. It's not often (especially lately) that a book has been capable of consuming me, and I thoroughly loved the feeling...of escape. And honestly, in my life there's not a whole lot to escape from. But every once in a while, it's comforting to live someone else's pain, to embrace someone else's emotion, even if that "someone else" is merely a fictional character.
Occasionally life gets too real. This past month or so it seemed as if I was constantly grappling with various thoughts regarding certain friendships/relationships in my life. I am confident in my communication skills to a degree, but when my words have the ability to instill hurt in someone, I often hold back. I guess you can say I've been kind of a lazy friend lately...giving advice when sought after, but otherwise remaining objective and stoic to a degree. For some reason I just don't have the energy most days to truly delve into everyone's situation. But this tiredness makes me feel that I am missing out on real conversations, that I am taking the easy way out by sidestepping confrontations and concern.
Overall I know it's just the fast-paced busy season at work that has been affecting my motivation in the evenings...and I know that it will pass once I have been immersed in the environment for a few months. I've been feeling drained lately--a good drained, but drained nevertheless--in many ways. I have to push myself to run or go to the gym after work, and while I have been trying to focus on eating healthy options, there's been a slight setback with various obstacles at work: Panera bagels "for a job well done," a Chili's lunch tomorrow for Cinco de Mayo, a farewell party for a colleague, etc. I still love corporate America and I'm trying to figure it all out, but in some ways it offers as many temptations as America itself. When I'm working hard to meet a deadline and to mail 2-3 cases in a week, and the head of National Accounts says "Hey, have a bagel for all your hard work", it's not always easy to pass up.
I am trying to keep the Tara I know and love in check. I want to be healthy, motivated, hard-working, successful, and a good friend all at the same time. I guess I'm just trying to balance each compartment and integrate them the best that I can. I know that sometimes one piece of the puzzle is bound to slip out of place for a passing moment, but as long as I am aware that I'm not complete without all of the pieces together, I guess that's one step in the right direction. It's my focus during these next couple of months to put 100% into everything that I do. I don't want to let anyone down, the least of all myself.
This weekend has been rewardingly long despite the fact that I slept in until 9:30 and 10:00 both days (that is unprecedented for me). We didn't have a lot going on so I spent the majority of yesterday afternoon and this morning propped up on my couch (with the dust bunny village below) reading a very interesting story called The Thirteenth Tale. I call it a story rather than a novel or a book because it certainly was written by a storyteller. I loved the twists and turns surrounding the twins, and I really became enraptured while reading. It's not often (especially lately) that a book has been capable of consuming me, and I thoroughly loved the feeling...of escape. And honestly, in my life there's not a whole lot to escape from. But every once in a while, it's comforting to live someone else's pain, to embrace someone else's emotion, even if that "someone else" is merely a fictional character.
Occasionally life gets too real. This past month or so it seemed as if I was constantly grappling with various thoughts regarding certain friendships/relationships in my life. I am confident in my communication skills to a degree, but when my words have the ability to instill hurt in someone, I often hold back. I guess you can say I've been kind of a lazy friend lately...giving advice when sought after, but otherwise remaining objective and stoic to a degree. For some reason I just don't have the energy most days to truly delve into everyone's situation. But this tiredness makes me feel that I am missing out on real conversations, that I am taking the easy way out by sidestepping confrontations and concern.
Overall I know it's just the fast-paced busy season at work that has been affecting my motivation in the evenings...and I know that it will pass once I have been immersed in the environment for a few months. I've been feeling drained lately--a good drained, but drained nevertheless--in many ways. I have to push myself to run or go to the gym after work, and while I have been trying to focus on eating healthy options, there's been a slight setback with various obstacles at work: Panera bagels "for a job well done," a Chili's lunch tomorrow for Cinco de Mayo, a farewell party for a colleague, etc. I still love corporate America and I'm trying to figure it all out, but in some ways it offers as many temptations as America itself. When I'm working hard to meet a deadline and to mail 2-3 cases in a week, and the head of National Accounts says "Hey, have a bagel for all your hard work", it's not always easy to pass up.
I am trying to keep the Tara I know and love in check. I want to be healthy, motivated, hard-working, successful, and a good friend all at the same time. I guess I'm just trying to balance each compartment and integrate them the best that I can. I know that sometimes one piece of the puzzle is bound to slip out of place for a passing moment, but as long as I am aware that I'm not complete without all of the pieces together, I guess that's one step in the right direction. It's my focus during these next couple of months to put 100% into everything that I do. I don't want to let anyone down, the least of all myself.
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