"Somewhere between 'unsure' and 'a hundred'..."

I have been ordered to update. I am offically a member of the Blogspot community.

What to say, what to say. Life has been relatively uneventful. What with school being out, events seem just as spread out as friends. The highlight of my break thus far occurred yesterday afternoon. So your college has famous speakers and prestigious alumni. Your football team is unbeatable and basketball is second to none. But at my college a cop killer is approached at the apartments I regularly go to parties in and is apprehended after a shootout down the street outside the window of the office I work in. And I get to watch.

Hell yeah, I am La Salle.

So needless to say the office came to a stand still for all of a half hour as we watched out our window as John Grady with his Jedi-like powers and mob connections mingled with police. Then it was back to filing as usual. Don't get me wrong - despite the typical monotony and simplicity of it, I love my job overall. There are enough little things that happen to make it worth the less than amazing pay. Moments like yesterday. Like picnics on the ground with food from TGIFridays. As in waffles for breakfast when the boss is out and writing a musical defacing Disney songs on company time. I get paid to know my alphabet and do Sudoku. And give the occasional tour to people from the Czech Republic. It's like living in Office Space or on The Office. Anyone who doesn't see the humor in either of those things needs to work with me for a day. You'll find it.

Otherwise - or rather in that same vein - life has been quiet. I've slowly been reconnecting with the Jersey Loves. I got to see Feesh the other afternoon on the pretense of lending a calculator. Also, Billy D and I talked into the wee hours of the morning on the meaning of life and philosophy. Seriously. He and I can just do that. It's weird, they say you find people in college to have those deep conversations with. Well, I think about it and I didn't have one of those this year. Oh yeah, I had serious talks - but they were all like 'how does this relate to me' types. Billy D. and I talk in the big picture sense. I love it. And I missed it more than I realized. Jenna is home and we picked up right where we left off. That's the best part about our friendship - it never really falters. It's like we put it on pause for a few weeks but when we come back, it's right where we left it. So beautiful. Tonight I went and saw Over The Hedge with my babies Christopher and Shawn Kyle. And those are the two I laugh hardest with here. Honestly, from previews through the credits we never stopped. "It is Persian for 'I am Persian'"..."spuuuuudies and coffee - you fat bitch!"..."curse you, weldsman of plastic"..."its a cow farm...dersgonbeacowindabackyaarrdd". Yeah. I knew I needed to start working my abs again. This was the perfect way.

But something here is still not sitting right. I still can't do big groups. So strange. But after last summer's debacle, beginning with senior week right through the semi-self-inflicted quarantine and isolation, I'm not quite sure where to start again. Like in big groups - which happen often when there are nine of you - I feel like an outsider. Like I'm missing something. And I'm sure most of it is psychological on my part, but some of it isn't. I think they still like to shelter me from some things. They think I'll judge. And for a long time I would have. I was a very judgemental person in high school - one of my many self-admitted flaws. But I'm learning. I am. And if I can let them grow up in their ways, why won't they let me grow up in mine? Give me a chance at least. Let me earn whatever praise or scorn I deserve. I don't need you to shelter me anymore. I hope that in itself doesn't sound too condescending. It probably does. It could be subconcious and unintential on my part - I radiate judging like I radiate nerdiness - I have flashing neon signs apparently that everyone but me can see. But I just want a chance to get back to where I was. And I know I'm not fully doing my part yet, but I'm nervous. So when I can finally try I hope they can, too. And if they're still the friends I think they are, they will.

And then I find out I'm a heartbreaker all over again. Just when the guilt starts to abate just a little, when I start to move on, a chance encounter brings it all back. I broke his heart, they tell me. Mine was a little bruised compared to what I did to him, they say. And even though I knew what I did, it still came as a shock. Why? I don't know exactly. All along I knew that situation was bad. I knew that I wasn't being fair and that I screwed up. Anyone who's heard the story has to admit that it was a pretty shitty thing to do - fuck the honesty aspect - I still put him through hell. And I knew that. And I felt guilty on my own about it. And I apologized and tried to mend things and never forgave myself and tried to make things work again and make it up to him. But he wouldn't let me. Because although he said it was fine and said we could get past it, we couldn't. Because he never admitted that he was hurt. And he didn't yell and he didn't talk to me and let us sort things out. It was just buried. The proverbial elephant in the room. Eventually it ended and I had to deal with my actions. Never would I say that I wasn't at fault. But he did. So how was I to know? The fact is, I just should have. I should have known him well enough, recognized the signs on my own to see. But I didn't. So when my honesty is finally returned by others, it floors me again. What was I expecting? Maybe for them to sugar-coat it a little. It's easier when, even though you know you were wrong, someone says it's okay, even if all you'll do is deny it eventually anyway. It still is comforting. On some major level, though, I appreciate the straightforwardness more. It stings, but it is, in fact what I asked for. Dish it and take it, if you will. And in the long run there are fewer loose ends with honesty. I really do enjoy it. But right now it sucks. Because I'm feeling guilty all over again. And I try and rationalize it - we were just kids, he's moved on, I'm getting what I deserve as it is in a different shoddy relationship followed by what's shaping up to be a good long period of being single (not complaining, I need it) - but that rationalizing in itself makes me feel guilty. These are people and feelings we're talking about, not just numbers and words, it's not something to be rationalized. Maybe I had just started to desensitize myself to it - make it less human and less real by telling and retelling the story. And here it is right in front of me again. I compartmentalize. School was a different compartment, hence safe. Not for long of course, but it was totally isolated. And that shouldn't change too much anyway, I don't have joint memories of us there. But home is different. There's history here. And I was never really a fan of history. So less than three weeks into summer and I realize that it could be a long one. This is the trouble with having the same group of friends as your ex. I don't want to subject them to the awkwardness and I don't want to make them choose, so I do it myself, and I lose in the process...again. I'm forming quite the record here...I look like the Eagles of the mid-90s.

Alright, enough enough. I did not want this journal to become one giant cry for pity, which it seems to have done anyway, againt my intent. I promise one day I'm going to have one big happy entry. I'm ruining my happy-go-lucky image on here. I swear, just reading this one might think I was an unhappy person.

Who me? Couldn't be.