tenir la vie’s blog

Loss is depressing; more depressing than death. Death, too, is a form of loss, but when you Lose someone living, it's even more unbearable. Losing somebody to death is fine. It's sad, but you're allowed to be sad. You think that the world doesn't stop, but it does. Your world does. And, for the most part, the world lets you wallow in your depression, and tells you that your tears are permissable. But Loss is different. The world doesn't recognize that Loss is more painful than death, nor does it sympathize. It moves forward coldly and insensitively, quietly and quickly, and although you try to live and be happy, the Loss has left and gentle, bitter scrape. Rejection, a subcategory of Loss, is painful too, although one can overcome Rejection. But Loss - the cold, sleek, sly thing - creeps into your life like an unwanted shadow and doesn't leave until you ache so badly you forget to care about ... anything.

And then, just when you think Loss has kidnapped your life forever, you begin to see things again. The sun, blinking furiously a trillion rays of heat and light; the bony arms of naked winter trees; the bright red of flowers against white paint. And you feel things - Love and Hate and Jealousy and Joy - you feel them again and the Loss, as quickly and painfully as it slips into your life, leaves you whole again, with only a small pinkish scar gleaming harmlessly against the smooth ink of your soul; aching briefly only when touched.

May 29, 2007. It's what we've been waiting for for the past 12 years, and, shockingly, the fact that I will be leaving my elementary education behind forever hasn't really sunk in. The closure hasn't been amazing or clarifying or inspiring or even remotely emotional. I'm only excited to get it all over with. School has been a peculiar experience. It's funny, there were always the kids I wanted to impress, you know? The pretty, outrageous girls with enough self confidence to catapault a whole hospital of anorexics to a life of euphoric self-admiration. The clean cut arrogant boys with choppy hair and a penchant for listening to "sweet, old rock." The towny Sarahs and Nicoles and Britneys that wear Forever 21 as if it were high fashion, and smoke their weekends into oblivion. The football jocks with their bulging biceps and (three) legs. The corny intellectuals with far too many emotions and misconceptions about reality. I tried to impress all of those people, and I am still trying to figure out why.

I don't really know what I want to be, or who I want to emulate. I'm sort of flying around on my own right now, just being myself. It's an OK phase, and I think it is just temporary. But I feel like the people I go to school with are so obnoxious, shallow, unintellectual, American-ized (in the most negative connotation of the awful adjective). I'm so tired with the contrived jokes and laughter, the boring "We hate Bush," speeches in AP Government from girls that don't even know who Michael Chertoff (Secretary of Homeland Security) is. I'm sick of girls that still shimmy into their fifth grade size three Abercrombie jeans when they are clearly a six or an eight. I'm sick of the word "drama" and how frequently it is utilized. I'm sick of girls who say their favorite books are "Harry Potter," (which isn't even a book but a series) or "Good Greif," or crummy novels like Beloved, by Toni Morrison, which is, I understand, a novel of great acclaim but is still, in my opinion, crummy. I'm overly-excited in my anticipation for university, which is a bit immature, all too predictable and probably ill placed excitement. Nonetheless, Miami University, here I come!!!

Such a great book.

I'm in Canada for the week, staying at my grandparents', in the blue room at the top of the stairs. The air here is peculiar. Smooth, green, lake-ish. Today we went down to the lake, and shopped a bit at Silkeborg where I picked up an amazing blouse and a very spectacularly layered skirt from European brand DEPT. Both pieces are gorgeous, but the quality of the delicate blouse was questionable. It is a wrap around blouse, cream, with ruffles and delicate strings which wrap around the waist and tie in the front. After tying it, I tugged it down a bit, and it ripped, right at the seam. I'm taking it back tomorrow and will hopefully get another one. The skirt is really high quality, however, and durable. I'd post pictures, but my camera was left in my bedroom in Ohio, so ... my literary illustrations will have to suffice.

In other news, I've recently been using Guerlain Terracotta bronzer. After spending about $50 on the tan accelerated bronzer, I expected a really terrific bronzer...but I have been breaking out since I have purchased it, and the color is a little orange, although that is probably not the product's fault, but my own, since I probably should have asked for help in picking the color. I have had better luck with this Sonia Kashuk bronzer from Target...So I've been a bit disappointed with Guerlain. For $50, I expected something truly remarkable.