I tried to think up a nice, neat theme for my post this week, but there just isn't one. If this week had a soundtrack, it'd be a disjointed collection of thirty-second snippets. Techno, maybe Samba. Then Rachmaninov. Some elevator music. Alt rock. Clips from a Chinese news broadcast (I mean WTF, I don't know). All punctuated by static, curse words, and uncontrollable laughter. The only way to sum it up is to write an equally disjointed post:
Some things I've learned:
It's really easy to revive a dormant Diet Coke addiction. You can learn something from yoga teachers that you think you hate. You can enjoy a baseball game at the Oakland Coliseum. Sometimes, the truth is simple. If what you think is a 15-minute walk turns out to be a 30-minute walk, you will realize this at the most inopportune time. It can be 75 degrees and sunny in Oakland at 3 pm, and 55 degrees, with fog at ground level, in Berkeley at 5 pm. It's possible to be relieved when someone suddenly writes you off for no apparent reason. It's okay to leave a concert before intermission, even if you'd been looking forward to the concert for months. Whatever "it" is, I'm never going to "get" it, and I never have to. For some reason, that's comforting. Running makes most things better -- unless you have knee pain, then running makes it worse. It's possible to stick to some resolutions for months, just by doing it one day at a time, even if you don't think you can do it for one hour. Everything about money sucks, all the time. It's possible to read the same thing many times over in a very short period of time, and find something new in it every time. It's possible to apply for grad school out of a twisted combination of appeasement, spite, lovesickness, and sheer boredom, without any real intention of getting accepted. It's possible to put together a semi-coherent application, even if you decide to apply for said reasons, less than three weeks before the deadline. It's apparently possible to be taken seriously if you apply to a program you have no business applying for, with close to zero experience in the relevant field. (Be careful what you apply for. You might just get accepted. And be careful where you apply. You might just end up moving to Texas.)
Some things I don't know:
Why are the things we need to hear the things we hate hearing the most? What do you do when people you love aren't taking good care of themselves? What do you do when you're on a first date, and you're a girl, dressed warmly, sitting outside in the cold with a boy who is wearing shorts, flip-flops, and a t-shirt? (I'm supposed to be the one who is cold, dammit!) Is the important thing about living near the ocean that I actually go there often, or just that I know I can go there whenever I want? Why does it seem like cancer targets the best people you know? (Why do I still ask that question when I know there is no why?) Why can I go a whole day eating nothing but chocolate and then complain that my stomach hurts and I have a sugar headache? Is Santa Fe more fun than Albuquerque? What do you do when there are two boys in the picture, and you know that if you don't play your cards right, you'll end up with zero? Why, when it's a clear night and the stars are out, does nothing else matter, in the whole universe? How do you know when people are just saying things to be polite? Is it easier to believe something but not know it, or to know something but not believe it? Why have I spent my whole adult life thinking I hate grapefruit when I don't? Why do some of the most carefully thought out plans lead to totally crappy results, but last-minute decisions made by coin-flip tend to turn out awesome?
Deep breath. New week.