a hug

The scent of the skin on your neck, like alcohol tinted ivory. The feel of your skin on my lips--utterly human, fleshy and real--pulls me out of my head, pulls me back to reality. That look in your eyes and the unchecked pout of your lips betraying fatigue of the body and the soul. The concept of real. A solid body, a thin layer of skin between my hands and your blood--a real, live boy; a foreign object realized once again. My senses telling me about you but also confirming something about me, sewing up the tears in my soul, putting the pieces back together again. All these things I can't tell you; words that my tongue won't cooperate with when I am in your presence. How could I tell you? It goes beyond logic, that a simple hug signals infinite synapses swirling in a hurricane of ambiguity that makes my heart breathe again.

new apartment, new outlook?

Here I am living in Ames, IA. Same general location, new apartment, new roommate. I am laying in bed trying to figure some things out, and I have come to the conclusion that it is too soon to make any conclusions. Let's ponder the positives: In the last four months I have lost fifteen of the seven hundred billion pounds that I gained while I was on antidepressants (and am getting a gym membership on Monday), I have proved to myself that I can survive, thrive, even enjoy living while distanced from my family, and I have done reasonably well the first semester of my masters program. The negatives? Really there is just one: I feel like I might be ready to take a step or two towards what I want in my life, and I have faltered in this place before. This is the place, about three years ago, that I felt free, unburdened, and myself for the first time in my life. I overstepped, I misstepped, I got scared, I lost control, and I turned and ran. I thought I was ready for this, but I screwed up again and it feels like I am standing over a crevasse with one leg on each side. What happens when the space between where I am and where I want to go gets too wide and I have to make a choice? I hope I don't screw it up.

something so appropriate

When I first registered this blog I was sort of tired of the whole blog scene. I had been doing it for years (way before it was a popular thing that blogging engines made popular and easy). Eventually I grew tired of paying for my own website and doing the graphic design for a new layout every time I felt the need to express a new moment in my life. After a couple of years of having a blog hosted by myself, I spent a few years writing at Xanga. When I came to blogger I was worn out and wanted something new. I spent a couple of weeks pondering what I would call my new blog and eventually settled on "bring on the fear so i can find my courage." The idea came from the novel Boy Meets Boy by David Levithan. "I find my greatest strength in wanting to be strong. I find my greatest bravery in deciding to be brave. ... If there's no feeling of fear, then ther's no need for courage." At the time I was sitting pretty at Illinois College--resting comfortably on my dad's checkbook and the experience three years in one place brings. I guess you could say I saw Levithan's concept as something noble. In retrospect, I don't tink I could have judged how important the title of this blog would be. Now I sit in my studio apartment in Ames, Iowa, two months into my first semester of grad school. I pay my own bills according to a budget that I haven't followed. I find myself awoken in a cold sweat worried about money or a lesson plan for the next day that I am not sure will work. I ride the bus and I eat lots of tuna (it's cheap you know) and haven't bought a new article of clothing for at least a month. Most of all though, I worry about where my life is going. Continuing one's education in hopes of getting a better job is nice. Being a part of the education process for younger students is great. Not being a garbace collector or a factory worker is peachy. But really, what is it all worth if you aren't surrounded by amazing people? I find myself looking into the past at all the great times and wondering why they have been mostly absent since I moved here. I know the adage that you don't recognize the good times until you look at them in retrospect, but sometimes that doesn't seem good enough. I have had good friends, I have had great friends, now I want a boyfriend. I want someone to share my life with, even if the sharing only lasts for a week. I want that experience. Wanting doesn't do anything, and if I am not careful, I will end up barking up the wrong tree. I am just lonely and every once in a while, I want that loneliness to stop.

ice storm

"The Jacksonville area has had an ice storm that caused campus power outages for about forty-five minutes. Lights and heat have been restored to the main residence halls. Some off campus locations remain without power. Students in these buildings are being relocated to halls that do have power. Please check back on Monday for further updates. "

When they say some of the off campus locations, they really mean two foreign language houses and an entire apartment complex...200 students total? Two inches of ice on the ground now. More freezing rain the next two days. All on oncampus events (including tutoring hours) have been canceled and all students are requested to stay indoors as much as possible. I spent the day watching trees fall in my neighborhood...will there be finals? I hope not.

marc quoted in the peoria news

http://www.hoinews.com/News/news_story.aspx?id=71664

Today I received a $3,000 award based on volunteerism and advocacy in the homosexual community. The awards banquet was in Peoria and I was interviewed by one of the local news stations. I am misquoted in the above link and the amounts of the awards given out are wrong, but still, it is kind of exciting. Perhaps they will post a video clip like they said they would.

scary

I had a scary moment today. I realized that I could not remember the last time I had taken my daily antidepressant/antianxiety medication. It was at work and I ended up being quite distracted throughout my entire shift. Realizing there is a reason for the steady, broken feeling of a long-lasting depressive mood is however semi-liberating.

When I got home though, I couldn't find my meds. The last time I took them (sometime early last week) they were on the dining room table. Stephen would never move my meds more than a few feet, just as I would never move his--it is a room mate pact. I know he didn't move them. I moved them. I put them somewhere, shuffled them to the side, got them lost in a pile of something. I couldn't find them and I couldn't find them. I swear I thought I was going to die from panic. I ended up cleaning my entire room in hopes they were lost under a pile of clothing. In the end I found a sample pack of the pills and took two of those to make my regular dosage. I don't feel panic anymore, but I am still in my mood--my funk.

I just realized the pills are most likely in the trunk of my car. Living out of a random car in order to make all of homecoming run smoothly never bodes well for keeping one's life organized.

Time to read--this week I am focusing on my honors thesis. Next week: who knows.

sometimes I don't know how to deal with emotions

So, every time I start to look through pictures of Paris, I get a strange twist in my stomach that won't go away. It feels like I left a part of my life behind and haven't been able to pick it up again. How could I pick it up again? It is four thousand miles away. It hurts too much to do it.