sundays.

college sundays are a time for re-evaluation. everything slows down. sundays are the in-between

this sunday in particular feels magical, like the first time you kiss that person you've been crushing on forever. everything I hope for but that I feel is impossible is possible. magic is in each molecule of oxygen we breathe, weaving through our bodies and linking us to one another. the stars are re-aligning; our fates have changed today.

we were in the dining hall and you were talking when I cut you off completely. I told you that I couldn't control it, but the entire time you were talking my eyes had been searching for this boy that I see everywhere. this tall skinny boy in a tan jacket and glasses. I couldn't explain why I was looking for him at that moment, and I couldn't explain why I saw him so often- coming in to the dorms, smoking a cigarette, sitting and laughing in a sweater, looking at me.

my eyes darted to the side and my hands slapped the table- he was there in his tan leather and glasses- "that's him! oh my god! what the hell?" "Catie, you have to talk to him" "no, I can't"- we move out the door. at the front desk, Natalie whispers to me "you need to tell her he dropped something and ask which way he went." I don't miss a beat, but he's gone.

something's in the air today. it's pure. it's something that knows love is real and that it can exist between any two human beings. it's something that celebrates sex as something to be shared. it's someone that congratulates me after making out with the cute boy at the frat party. it's something inside me that knows everything will be okay.

procrastination

i woke up this morning feeling blue and every attempt to get back into the groove just feels like procrastination

this year

has been really hard for me.

college is weird, and full of fascinating things like meal cards. I really don't know why I chose that example, my school doesn't use meal cards.

What I'm hear to talk about, though, is teen girl stuff, of which I know a lot about.

So far in college I haven't had any romantic/explicit encounters. Or any normal encounters, haha, I make it sound like its only one or the other. WOW IT IS TWO AM AND I REALLY DONT KNOW WHAT IM SAYING okay catie calm down, re think this and then type it out:

what I want to write about tonight is how love-dreaming and teen-fantasizing doesn't end in high school. it goes on and on and its really quite nice actually. I like living in my head and pretending things and dreaming about people I hardly know. which sounds creepy, and maybe it is, but I don't care. it makes for great art, and art is what I live for.

I've been listening to a lot of Mason Jennings and if you listen to Mason Jennings you know he's a very intense guy with a lot of feelings and a lot of things to say, but at the same time you know he's really chill and you could get along with him quite well but for some reason, although you've seen two of his small shows, you haven't met him

-exhale-

I haven't had any college hook-up encounters. None whatsoever, which is quite refreshing, but a little disenchanting as well. I was really hoping for an indie hipster to become my artistic soulmate.

I think it's truly amazing that I could be this great, far-off thing that I dream to be: an artist, a filmmaker, an actress, a writer, a musician, someone who puts together tight-ass outfits. Balls. I would be so happy if I could be successful in my pursuit of artist endeavors.

Thank you, Mason Jennings for the service you have provided me.

Suicide is a weird thing. When I tell people my dad died, I still feel like I haven't disclosed the full story. Like I'm hiding something. Something that cuts so deep that I can only speak it aloud at certain times, at certain moments given to me. I spend so much time thinking about death and life and love, and SUICIDE, that I have a hard time relating to other people I'm meeting right now. Or my friends, which is just ridiculously unfair. I went to a movie tonight: Bigger than Life by Nicholas Ray. It was incredible, ahead of its time, but the dad goes crazy and becomes convinced he has to kill his son and himself. By the time the lights came back up I was wiping tears from my eyes.

My roommate's gone for the weekend and it's so nice- just because I'll get the chance to cry without worrying about waking her up! Used Kleenex and more Mason Jennings await me. Maybe I'll even listen to new music. More than anything, what sounds the most appetizing is staying inside, drawing and writing all weekend. Fuck yeah.

Of course, I'll end up going out just to escape everything that's banging around in my brain.

Back to the idea that with my roommate gone, I can cry- that's the weird thing about college. If you have a bad day and need to bawl, there's a 99% chance that someone will witness it, and ask about it if they're a nice person. And when you're crying, you don't want to have to explain anything to anyone, you just want to get it all out. I guess I just need to find a place to cry, and a place to be myself.

I've got a perfect body; though sometimes I can forget it

Think about all of the things you go without acknowledging on a day-to-day basis; for me, this can sometimes include the love of family and friends, the great community I live in and the talents and interests I'm blessed with. It sounds like a load of cheesy crap, but it's true. After you feel all warm and fuzzy for realizing just how lucky you are, you wonder why you were even upset or unsatisfied to begin with. It seems like getting all worked up when so many people have it so much worse makes a mockery both of yourself and of your problems.

To tell the truth though, knowing what you're blessed with and what weighs you down doesn't matter, because in that moment you're hurting and everything sucks. There's this passage in The Perks of Being a Wallflower that I think says it best:

And even if somebody else has it much worse, that doesn't really change the fact that you have what you have. Good and bad. Just like what my sister said when I had been in the hospital for a while. She said that she was really worried about going to college, and considering what I was going through, she felt really dumb about it. But I don't know why she would feel dumb. I'd be worried, too. And really, I don't think I have it any better or worse than she does. I don't know. It's just different. Maybe it's good to put things in perspective, but sometimes, I think that the only perspective is to really be there. Like Sam said. Because it's okay to feel things. And be who you are about them.

I think the last part of the passage is the most important: it's okay to feel things, and be who you are about them. Consequentially, it's also what I have the most trouble with. I can be completely upset with a situation one day and the next know that everything will be okay. I wish I could carry around that feeling all the time, but it just doesn't happen that way, and I guess that's okay too. I don't know. I don't understand how I can flip so dramatically from day-to-day, but I guess feeling constant about something is just a process that takes time, just like anything else. I tend to talk to friends about problems, and though I wish I could deal with them on my own, this is the only way that seems to help. And that's okay.

Disclaimer:

I was thinking about my recent blog post today and thought that maybe, my opinion was not wholly expressed. I worry that it sounds as though I think all boyfriends are disposable when one lives in the world of teenagerdom.

Okay, no, that is not what I think at all. What I meant to write about was the trap so many young, impressionable teenage girls fall in when it comes to boys. They settle for a boy they're less than happy with because they need that feeling of being loved and always having someone to talk to. I think, though, that if you're really honest with yourself, you can tell when you're settling and when you're smitten.

The teenage dating mystery, solved.

I understand now why girls want boyfriends.

Why thirteen-year-olds in braces and too-tight Abercrombie hunger for a smelly boy with shaggy hair.

It could be sex pheromones, yes, and it could be hormones, but most of all... it's loneliness.

Think about the culture teen girls are raised in: from a young age they're bombarded with media stars labeled "too fat" or "too skinny." Over time they learn to hate their bodies. It's almost impossible to love what you're given, because everyone else is telling you not to. Magazines that we grow up thinking are cool talk about boyfriends and parties like that's all there is to life.

Outside of the culturosphere, girls are pitted against one another from such a young age that by the time we're older, we're convinced it's nature and not nurture. I just read an email from my 11-year-old neighbor worrying over the rejection she's receiving from her "friends." Pardon my language, because I usually try to state my opinion without swearing, but this is BULLSHIT. Girls have to put up with so much from the world already: sexism, body hate, boy problems, school problems. With all of the problems we face, you think we'd develop a mutual love and understanding for one another. An "I've got your back if you've got mine" sort of thing. A girl "bro code." Instead we backstab our best friends to win a boy, all in the name of what's natural.

So in the emotionally hostile world girls live in, it's pretty obvious why they want a smelly boy boyfriend. To any girl feeling insecure, a boyfriend provides a steady companion, a guaranteed friday-night hangout. A boyfriend will always be there to watch movies with when you don't feel like talking and walk you around Forever 21. A boyfriend will keep you from feeling like a loser, in short, because while you may have multiple friends, you only have one boyfriend (at least, I hope so.)

Furthermore, this is the reason women stay in relationships after they've been abused. It's because of that feeling of being loved, of being accepted. It's because of the constancy having a boyfriend provides in an upside-down world where nothing is predictable. Boyfriends are safe.

To be completely honest, I still feel some of this girl insecurity from time to time, and I'm happy that I haven't succumbed to having a boyfriend in the past five years because I haven't met anyone I want to spend that much time with. At times, it's hard to fight off. In the end, though, I always cherish quality time I spend with myself over time spent bored with friends, or worst of all... time spent on failed relationships.

The truth in one free afternoon

On a bright, improbably sunny day in Madison, Wisconsin, I left with Natalie and Colin to go to the airport. I was picking up a guy I didn't know, had never met before; but I was nervous. On the ride over I tried to calm myself with niceties like "You've never met him before, why should you give a shit about him?" and the strangely unhelpful "Just be yourself."

When he was safe and sound in Natalie's Bug I still felt out of sorts, knowing all the while how ridiculous it was to feel so nervous around a stranger. I thought about how little I was talking, why I wasn't talking, and was it a big deal that I wasn't talking? We travelled down highways until we were dropped at State Street to smell the sweet fresh air and feel the pavement under our soles. The leopard print pants held flirtation while my harem pants created compliments. Suddenly the pavement was before us and we had slipped easily, conversing about Sofia Coppola and m-o-v-i-e-s. We were talking. I had switched off the stranglehold my mind was held in and my tongue felt loose, we were swimming it was so easy. I noticed you stood next to me at the drum circle. I wondered if your questions were from a place of politeness; I hoped they weren't.

We stood, together, reading a book on fashion when it was collectively ~felt~. Funny how those things work. I spouted off facts on Commes des Garcons and Prada that held interest to me but had never before seen the light of day as you listened. We gave and took. You talked and I listened. We joked, back and forth, comfortable and nervous. My stomach hurt. I liked you.

The rest of the week was fantastic, full of wonderful feelings I hadn't felt since the seventh grade. I smirked even though I couldn't help but get swept away by it all- it was so cheesy, so cute, so 80's movie perfect. I was followed by a pervasive thought throughout, that this was the first time I had felt this way, that this was all new. Was it? Of course it was.