Today is my eight-year anniversary of writing on this blog. You would think I would have learned some things along the way, some words of wisdom to impart to my fellow bloggers. I hate to disappoint you, but I haven’t got anything. I don’t know why I write, other than I know that it all builds up in my head till it’s begging to get out. I realize most of my posts lately aren’t that interesting, as I mainly tell you what’s been going on that day, but every once in a while I come out with something thought-provoking.
So in the interest of full-disclosure, or something like that, I will now post my very first blog entry. I was barely 21 years old at the time, having started dating Kurt just two months before. I was in my junior year of college at the College of William and Mary, majoring in computer science and having major panic attacks because of it. I was so afraid I wouldn’t pass my classes and not be able to graduate.
This is also just a few months before my life completely imploded, when I was ostracized from all the friends I had made over four years of college, for reasons that are still unknown to me. It had a major effect on my life, and sometimes still makes me wonder how worthy a person I am.
But! This is before those miserable months. Here I am as a young woman, learning how to make my way in the adult world.
The strange thing is the time I’m most introspective is always when I’m walking to and from classes. It’s something about being out in the sunshine (or the rain, lately) that makes me look inward on myself. It’s then that I realize what’s going on with me, which is odd because then when I want to write it down for posterity’s sake it’s all gone. Poof! “Quoth the Raven, nevermore…” :o)
Yesterday really was a happy day for me. My queer lit class was cancelled, which was a little sad because I adore that class. We get to read Oscar Wilde and other authors from the era of the formation of homosexuality. Plus my professor is the coolest, and the people in there are just funny. Well, Chris was still there outside the classroom by the time I hauled it up the stairs, and since I like to talk to him I decided to walk him out. He then invited me out to coffee at the coffeeshop. We spent at least an hour outside talking when we were joined by Kat and her friend Melissa. Melissa and I just hit it off so well. She even told me when we adjourned to the interior of the coffeeshop that she really liked me and thought I was a cool person. I tell that to a lot of people, and it seems to put them off a bit. They don’t know what to say, and I just mean it as a compliment. I guess it’s because it’s a high compliment… something more than they expect. But sitting outside for three and a half hours communing with nature and mocking the tour groups as they passed with my new friends was such a lovely experience. It’s been a while since I hung out with someone new.
I love meeting new people. I think it’s the best. But the problem is at this point in my college life I know almost everyone that I would care to know. So it’s hard to find someone new. At the same time, I meet new people that just pass in and immediately out of my life. That is kind of sad… I wish that wouldn’t happen… but everyone has their own lives already, and sometimes they don’t need another friend. My view is, the more the merrier! That’s why there’s gonna be something like 10-15 people in this tiny dorm room next week getting drunk together… The party just keeps getting bigger and bigger and bigger….
I’m just sitting here now chatting with my roommate Stina talking about names…. her name just fits her so well. Her real name is Cristina, which isn’t even the “normal” way of spelling it… but a four-year-old many years ago began to call her Stina because he couldn’t say the long form of her name. Then when we all formed our group here, somehow Stina just STUCK. And it’s so perfect. It’s a very unique nickname. I’ve known lots of Christina/Kristina/Cristinas, and she’s the only one to go by Stina. The rest would choose Chris, or Chrissy, or Christy or even Tina. It’s a unique name for a unique person. Like my own name, which is Karyl. That’s an odd spelling to begin with, and there aren’t many Carols under the age of 40 anymore. And then there’s Liza, which is also an unusual name, not common… As well as Franny (Frances)….. We’re just an unusual bunch, which uncommon names…. hee hee.
OK, now I’m going to listen to my roommate’s Kid Rock song that she just composed online with a fill-in-the-blank form. Don’t ask… we’re strange.
The interesting thing is, I don’t even recall any of the people from the second paragraph. I can’t even begin to remember who “Chris” is because I don’t recall talking to anyone in my queer lit class. I think I was the only non-openly-gay member of the class. I know my friend TGP from later entries was in that class, he who was teased by our (gay) professor for wearing a canary yellow buttondown to class, but he and I weren’t yet friends.
Now that I do think about it, I do remember Kat. She was a lovely girl, one of those girls who was awfully pretty in a throwback-to-a-60s-hippie sort of way, who was always smiling and friendly and sweet. I don’t recall ever hanging out with her, however, and I don’t remember this episode at all. It makes me wistful; I have so few memories like this, it would be nice to have it back.