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jackie_the_pants
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Name: jackie
Country: United States
State: New York
Metro: Saratoga Springs
Birthday: 11/20/1987
Gender: Female
Interests: u-googlizing, filling out online profiles, making a fool of myself, diddling with pencils and mice (electronic and otherwise) and stereo knobs, theater.
Expertise: Witchdoctor
Occupation: Research and development
Industry: Art
Message: message me
Member Since:
7/11/2003
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| I haven't written in over a year. That's a whole year, completely unaccounted for in any direct way. Honestly I have at times missed writing in a journal, but I denied myself because it feels like a selfish, unhealthy exercise. Why should I wallow in my own thoughts? Why should I write secret, unsent messages to people here where they won't be read rather than confront those people? I am, and have been since around senior year of high school, suspicious that blogging my innermost thoughts was actually making me a worse person. But right now I don't care so much, because it disturbs me that this blog recounts every stupid little emotion I had in 10th grade, and yet nothing from a whole year of college filled with strife and small victories and complexity.
So here are the observations I've collected from this year:
1. Art can be a transcendental experience only if you let it be by not having to analyze it for a class. Poetry and fiction are almost the same way - sometimes they can move you without your being able to fight it.
2. The sweetest triumph is the one that comes after you have procrastinated until it becomes a miracle that you finished your project at all.
3. When you have small classes, your grade depends greatly on how much your professor likes you. Professors do not appreciate sucking up, however - just that you treat them like an interesting person, and find a way to be interested in what interests them.
4. Being grown up is awful. Everything fun costs money or heart-ache and being genuine is only possible with a handful of people. Everything you say and think has to be filtered for the outside world. Playing pretend is no longer allowed in any capacity. Art is the unsatisfactory replacement.
5. In an environment that is hyperanalytical, it is very hard to look at a flower or take a glance from someone and not overthink it. Its hard to appreciate reality for just itself.
6. Love and hate are Definitely two sides of the same coin - or two ends of the same spectrum at least.
And, because this is my journal and I'm selfish, things I've learned about myself:
1. I hold grudges for a long time, and certainly for some stupid reasons. I make people earn my trust even though it seems callous to me and I long to trust more people.
2. I don't respect myself as much as I do other people, especially those I don't really know. I'd cross my friends before I'd cross a stranger.
3. I am a giant dork who often gets speaks too passionately about things and talks before thinking. I am learning that I can't just hold my tongue and try to look cool, it doesn't work - I have to speak up, and deal with the embarrassment afterwards.
4. I don't want the interesting, complex, sometimes comedic sometimes tragic life that I have. I want a simple life that meets my necessities and rarely fluctuates.
5. There are people that I don't know at all and that I absolutely will never be able to like. And they won't ever be able to like me. These people make up about 75% of everyone.
6. I don't really like me, either. That's why I don't clean my room or make a great effort to look fabulous during the week. Don't like myself enough to make the effort.
So, after more-than-a-year of thinking, that was all I could come up with. Maybe there will be more later. Hopefully more positive things. But that's not really ever been the focus of this journal... which is why it is bad for me... blah.
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| boston, though inhospitable of climate in all my experiences, is a cool town. ive been staying with the hutchisons in hudson (suburb, about 40 minutes outside the city) this week with bridget. food here is good. sleep here is plentiful. yesterday it was a beautiful 70 degrees for the first time here since fall, and today we've gotten 6 inches of snow, and counting. walked around the city today. ate at a pub, had candy and tea in newbury street, walked the icey commons, browsed north and quincey market, etc. had to walk against the wind and snow most of the time. but it was nice. we're finally home now, and for the most part dry and fed. i downloaded dropkick murphys songs. im watching the departed for the first time.
bostonization!
i wanna take this opportunity to say why dogs are lame and cats (that go outside) are better.
1. dogs run away at the drop of a hat.
2. dogs are required to wear leashes outside at all times.
3. dogs bark at anything they dont recognise. Loudly.
4. dogs beg for food loudly.
5. everytime youre driving, and you pass a dog, he's crapping or pissing.
6. your dog holds a higher regard for you than you do for him. cats - equal footing.
7. ninety five percent of dogs, even if you think they like your cat, even if they LIVE with your cat, will eat your cat if given half a chance. yes, i know cats (and dogs) will eat smaller animals. but pets smaller than cats live naturally in cages and are protected.
these are just the points i've been thinking about during my time at the hutchison house, home to 4 cats and 1 dog.
i've been thinking about deeper things too though.
looking back over my xanga up to this point i realize how much of it is concerned with previous, inferior people. how few entries have been dedicated to singing odes to the best. i suppose its because of our roots. we started with unspokenness, even though we'll get ode-y with each other on the phone now or back and forth in messages. or, more likely, its because the majority of what ive written about boys before has been negative, and i've had a lot fewer negative things to say about Him. (it has to be a capital H, it always is, in my mind. also i dont consider Him a boy unless he's being cute, otherwise he's a man). there are lots of other reasons i havent written about Him, another that certain people may read my xanga and then cause Him trouble because of it. which is why i have to be vague. really though, if i didnt care so much about protecting him, i still probably wouldnt write about Him much here. in my past experience, xanga was more often than not a passive aggressive tool i used to express displeasure with the person i was with. but He made me grow out of stuff like that, and many other vices.
so, ive come to the conclusion that what i need to do is start writing about how good i have it with Him. i consider myself really, really lucky. if there is anything that convinces me there's a greater power, its having Him. i dont know how much longer we will last,
and of course what we have is less than perfect, and therefore much less than He deserves. but its better than anything else
ive ever had, or ever hoped to have. its so much stronger... i'm very bad at being mushy when i'm not talking right to Him! i wanna stop now, i feel dumb, but i just wrote about how i oughtta do this.. i dont know, i guess we still are partially unspoken. nothing good or powerful can be translated into words on paper anyway, or at least, not in my experience. prose can't be sincere enough, and i'd be ashamed of any poetry that anyone besides myself could look at. i want everyone to know how great He is, how blessed i feel, i want to shower him with roses and medals made of sentences while the whole internet watches. but, in the end... this is my xanga, and He knows how i feel without having to read it here. i dont need to honor Him so much as to make something that reminds me of what it was like to be with Him. what's troubling is that im afraid i have no way to do that... because despite its complications, its so damn good...
i've been working on this, editting and re-editting and thinking since we started watching the departed, and all the way thru it, and now its been over like half an hour... i'll come back to this. in a private entry most likely.
oh also - dogs suck and cats are better because dogs tear a LOT more shit up than cats do. its their whole nature with the chewing on bones and stuff - they wanna chew on EVERYTHING. and in most cases cats can cleanly take care of their waste expulsion needs indoors, in a litter box, whereas a dog Has to go outside, and doesnt mind crapping himself if he cant.
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| looking back over the past four or so months, i realize how much has changed, and how few of these changes i have documented in this xanga. since its creation inception 2003 (or thereabouts, i didnt check) my only wish for this xanga's existence was that it be continual and without data loss. therefore in accordance with my own wishes i should make at least one entry at this point, presumably to recapture a few of the events, a few of the horrors, of my first semester in college.
but that's too hard.
its easier to say that for the most part, it sucked. nothing was how i thought it would be (not even me.) the only highlights came when i temporarily released the standards i had set for my college experience and myself in some way or form. but then, i felt horrible for allowing my morals and standards be so forgotten. and, in the worst instance of my disregard for my own ideals, for hurting someone i truly love.
i pay the penalties of my thoughtlessness, both in choosing skidmore and in the choices i've made at skidmore, every single day. especially now. i cant do any more reflection - i have to go to health services.
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| subject line : thinkin bout cha
hey babe. its the middle of the day and i cant talk to you cuz you're being edumacated so i reckoned i could write this and you would read it later and i might feel a lil better. although it makes me feel worse to impose on you and write you all this long rambling depressing mess.. i'm sorry.. [edit : this is why it went unsent]
i dont know why i am torturing myself by staying up here where it is cold, rainy, lonesome and away from you, when i know that i could lose you any day, and what we have now is more important to me than school.
the thought of whats gonna happen after christmas in the long run is making me so so so sad... not just being apart for five months again, but also you going to your own college (i guess, if we even get that far..ugh) because its only going to get harder unless i transfer closer. and even if i do, you'll be having your first year of college, and my presence would only hold you back, and you'll probably meet someone you like better anyways.
i remember thinking all these things this summer as the justifications for us breaking up in the first place.
these thoughts are killing me today and all i wanna do is talk to you about happy things so i dont have to think them anymore.
[edit: i am going to privatize this soon anyways.]
[edit: so i guess i unprivatized it.]
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| ok so i just got out of fiction class
and i was reminded of why i love english and literature and fiction overall.
if you've never read oscar wilde's fairytale 'the nightengale and the rose' you need to google it right now. i had a huge epiphany about it in class which completely fit into all my half-formed ideas on art, logic, love, sacrifice ETC ETC.
i think i read it as a young child and so reconnecting with it is somewhat like a home-coming.
and arent the images of a nightengale and a rose just so beautiful anyway?
i think i'm going to go doodle them. and then shower. or something.
k bye.
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