JAKE- It ends, it ends, finally it ends. Thank you to everyone who made this memoir possible. Also, thank you for reading. It was my pleasure to mildly entertain you for a few minutes. Enjoy the close.
Haven’t We Met?
Senior year was a lonely time for me. I had school during the day and then it was over to Christy’s apartment during the evenings. Weekends I worked at the theater, with Christy of course, and then it all started over on Monday. Christy talked about moving into her parent’s house when they moved out of it soon. Oh no, what is going on with me? I can’t really be in this situation. We soon broke up and I was on to some other girl with slightly less obligations attached to her. I was not feeling any better.
“Let’s go, let’s go,” Baggage Man said as we headed for the side exit of the school. The rarely used gem was perfect for skipping out on the day’s last class and going home early.
“Nothing matters any more Baggage Man, it doesn’t matter.”
“What?” he said with a smile.
“I could do anything man, I don’t care, nobody cares,” I said.
“Okaaay,” He laughed. I grabbed the fire extinguisher off the wall on the way out the door. BM smiled as he watched me while we walked.
“Nothing matters, lalala,” I said. I yanked the pin out and pointed the hose at the bare field in front of the parking lot. A fine dust whooshed out of the fire extinguisher as I squeezed the trigger. I sprayed left and right until nothing else came out and finished by throwing the thing at the brick wall on the West side of the school. Some kids had stopped and starred, BM and I continued to my car in the parking lot. We did not say anything.
I was not considering consequences for my actions when I went to school the next day. In fact, the first two hours of the day went rather well. It was on my way to my favorite class, Broomball, that I got stopped and asked to join the school counselor in her office.
“Hello, Jacob, how are you?” She smiled and acted overly polite. I squirmed in my chair.
“I’m well.”
“Really, have you been alright lately, or feeling a little down?”
“I think all of us, at times, feel like we aren’t quite right,” I said. It continued like this for a few minutes. I must have impressed her because at one point she broke from whatever standard operating procedure manual that she was using and said, “You are kind of a poet, aren’t you?”
I said nothing. “What would make you happy, Jacob?”
“Well, I would like to go to my next class.”
“Oh no, that’s not possible, Jacob.” It was then that I noticed the two police officers in the doorway, more or less blocking off any getaway attempt. But I had no intention of running, instead I cried. They told me I needed to go to the emergency room for a psychiatric evaluation. I asked through sobs if my mom could take me instead of an ambulance. They reluctantly consented though I heard later that they were so worried about me being a flight risk that they shut the school down, no one in, no one out, until they got me out of the counselor’s office and off the premises.
My mom was understanding and not upset. The car ride to the hospital was quiet, mostly. After a few hours in the ER I spoke with a psychiatrist for a few moments after which I was free to leave with a prescription for anti-depressants in my hand. That was it, back to school I go. Back to life. I guess the answer to what I was feeling was written on that small piece of paper. How convenient.
No one really talked to me after that, except my closest friends. I suppose word gets around a school like this pretty fast. There I sat, on the Freak chairs in my oversized black jacket. My fifteen minutes of fame were over as I sat and stared, sedated. I looked to my left and caught a glance of Lindsay walking down the hall, headed, no doubt, to talk to her friends at the senior chairs. I burned for her, I absolutely burned. She so much idealized everything that was right: normal relationships, normal friends, normal feelings. I barely saw her these days and if we passed each other she did not look.
Now, I wonder if she would even know my name. If she read this, would she know that it was me who authored it. The building I built for her in my mind was empty. Only me, sitting in the middle of a concrete room, in a chair labeled “Freak,” staring straight ahead. The building I built for her was empty.
3.21.2009
3.04.2009
Aglio e Olio
JAKE- Yes, that's right, I hugged a girl. What possibly could have happened next? A little friend, that's what. Didn't see that coming.
Cuddling in the Afterglow
After that point, I carried a torch for this girl through the remainder of high school with both hands. We would talk a little in the hallways, smile at each other, we even hugged again. I wanted her so, but nothing was happening. I guess she had put the ball in my court, but all I did was stand there and dribble. Sophomore year passed. My grades were good and I was free to do pretty much whatever I wanted after school. Much of this included video games and dorking around the mall. Junior year followed suit. I thought about Lindsay frequently. It was good to see her, to talk to her on occasion. A nervous smile while we passed was usually all I could muster, whether she looked or not. I even saw her once or twice at the movie theater I worked at.
I met a new girl at the theater, Christy, and after a long time of putting it off, we started dating. I always felt as though there was something pushing me away from her, telling me not to get with her but I did anyway. She was older and I think this was one of the big appeals to dating her for me, though I do not know why now. She was short with a round face. She often wore dull colors and rock band shirts but I know she wanted to be beautiful because she was always bleaching her hair a brighter shade of blonde. Soon she would bare me a child.
I remember the day Aysia was born. I walked into the hospital room after having finally had some time to get something to eat. The lights were low; the room was mostly a dull blue. Christy was still asleep so I made my way to the bench nearest the bed and sat. The doctors gave her an epidural an hour or so ago so she was asleep for the first time since the night previous when she began to have contractions. Actually, now that I think about it, neither of us slept at all last night. Our sleep was interrupted by contractions and a trip we took to this place only to be told it wasn’t time yet and we were sent back. I layed on her bedroom floor for the second time that night staring up at the ceiling while she moaned and cried every couple of minutes. I know it is all about the mother, but I was so alone. A second trip taken a few hours later found us admitted and here, in this room. I was staring again, this time straight ahead as I sat up. As soon as she wakes up she is going to have this baby and it’s all over. I was so alone. She stirred on the bed. “Hi,” she muttered.
She looked good considering. Her bleach blonde hair was tussled around, her eyes a bit cloudy behind that blue mascara. She always wore that blue mascara, even when birthing our child. “How are you feeling?” was the best I could come up with.
More than anything she needed someone to give her comfort and unfortunately I was lousy at doing so. “Ow,” she replied and suddenly it started happening.
Only moments passed until a nurse came in and said “Ok, it’s time,” and then a few more people came in, and then a few more. Every 15 minutes gave way to a new set of specialists inviting themselves in. I held on to Christy’s right leg and pushed back on it.
“Push, push, you are doing good,” urged a nurse or someone.
Machines were beeping “ARGGG!” yelled Christy, her face glazed with sweat.
I followed the somebody’s lead, “Good yeah looks good, push.”
The room was really loud. Beep, “push,” “ARGG,” the shuffle of people. A woman entered the room looking rather sure of herself. She was assisted in putting on a pair of gloves and a gown and then took a swift position right in front of Christy’s spread legs. She was calm, with an aura that said, “Yeah, I deliver babies.” Aysia’s head emerged and I was hit with a rush of the most repugnant smell I have ever inhaled up to that point in my life and with adrenaline that coursed through me. I was all pumped up.
“Oh, looks good, baby, looks very, very, good!” The doctor looked at me and smiled and I think a couple others in the room got a chuckle out of it as well. The rest of Aysia came out with a sploosh and as the minutes went by, people started slowly leaving the room.
Family came all through the next day, and we eventually took Aysia home. Three days after I turned 18, I was a father. There wasn’t much time to dwell, though; I had to get back to high school.
Cuddling in the Afterglow
After that point, I carried a torch for this girl through the remainder of high school with both hands. We would talk a little in the hallways, smile at each other, we even hugged again. I wanted her so, but nothing was happening. I guess she had put the ball in my court, but all I did was stand there and dribble. Sophomore year passed. My grades were good and I was free to do pretty much whatever I wanted after school. Much of this included video games and dorking around the mall. Junior year followed suit. I thought about Lindsay frequently. It was good to see her, to talk to her on occasion. A nervous smile while we passed was usually all I could muster, whether she looked or not. I even saw her once or twice at the movie theater I worked at.
I met a new girl at the theater, Christy, and after a long time of putting it off, we started dating. I always felt as though there was something pushing me away from her, telling me not to get with her but I did anyway. She was older and I think this was one of the big appeals to dating her for me, though I do not know why now. She was short with a round face. She often wore dull colors and rock band shirts but I know she wanted to be beautiful because she was always bleaching her hair a brighter shade of blonde. Soon she would bare me a child.
I remember the day Aysia was born. I walked into the hospital room after having finally had some time to get something to eat. The lights were low; the room was mostly a dull blue. Christy was still asleep so I made my way to the bench nearest the bed and sat. The doctors gave her an epidural an hour or so ago so she was asleep for the first time since the night previous when she began to have contractions. Actually, now that I think about it, neither of us slept at all last night. Our sleep was interrupted by contractions and a trip we took to this place only to be told it wasn’t time yet and we were sent back. I layed on her bedroom floor for the second time that night staring up at the ceiling while she moaned and cried every couple of minutes. I know it is all about the mother, but I was so alone. A second trip taken a few hours later found us admitted and here, in this room. I was staring again, this time straight ahead as I sat up. As soon as she wakes up she is going to have this baby and it’s all over. I was so alone. She stirred on the bed. “Hi,” she muttered.
She looked good considering. Her bleach blonde hair was tussled around, her eyes a bit cloudy behind that blue mascara. She always wore that blue mascara, even when birthing our child. “How are you feeling?” was the best I could come up with.
More than anything she needed someone to give her comfort and unfortunately I was lousy at doing so. “Ow,” she replied and suddenly it started happening.
Only moments passed until a nurse came in and said “Ok, it’s time,” and then a few more people came in, and then a few more. Every 15 minutes gave way to a new set of specialists inviting themselves in. I held on to Christy’s right leg and pushed back on it.
“Push, push, you are doing good,” urged a nurse or someone.
Machines were beeping “ARGGG!” yelled Christy, her face glazed with sweat.
I followed the somebody’s lead, “Good yeah looks good, push.”
The room was really loud. Beep, “push,” “ARGG,” the shuffle of people. A woman entered the room looking rather sure of herself. She was assisted in putting on a pair of gloves and a gown and then took a swift position right in front of Christy’s spread legs. She was calm, with an aura that said, “Yeah, I deliver babies.” Aysia’s head emerged and I was hit with a rush of the most repugnant smell I have ever inhaled up to that point in my life and with adrenaline that coursed through me. I was all pumped up.
“Oh, looks good, baby, looks very, very, good!” The doctor looked at me and smiled and I think a couple others in the room got a chuckle out of it as well. The rest of Aysia came out with a sploosh and as the minutes went by, people started slowly leaving the room.
Family came all through the next day, and we eventually took Aysia home. Three days after I turned 18, I was a father. There wasn’t much time to dwell, though; I had to get back to high school.
3.03.2009
the look of love
^ that's the look ^
This past weekend Jake and I ventured south to see the American Craft Council show in Baltimore, Maryland. There were over 700 artists there and my mother was one of them. The drive was a little long, but totally worth it. It was nice to just spend time with each other, even if it was only sitting in the car not deciding which CD to put in--I always want Christina or some show and Jake always wants anything else (He did let me listen to one Christina album on the drive home, which was incredibly gracious of him, and we both enjoyed The Lion King on the way down...although we did mutually agree upon skipping "Chow Down").
But we had a great time. Jake is really big into packing lunches for road trips so we had a veritable smorgasbord for the eight hour ride. I made hummus the night before and bought some of our favorite chips to go with it, plus some Pirate Booty (little puffed corn things that barely count as food but cover your fingers with a delicious aged white cheddar powder reminiscent of Cheetos, but without all the preservatives and fats associated with them). Jake made us some sandwiches, and I bought some chocolate- and yogurt-covered pretzels to satisfy our sweet tooth. We also had pudding, almonds, raisins, granola bars, crackers, and string cheese. It was basically Jake's standard lunch, but deliciously mobile.
We ended up traveling through nine states. That's one thing about the Northeast--everything is so bunched up together that it is difficult to take a walk without crossing a state line. We drove through Vermont, New Hampshire, Connecticut, Massachusetts, New York, New Jersey, Delaware, Pennsylvania, and Maryland. We got to stay at my great aunt and uncle's house in Potomac, Maryland, just outside of Washington. It was so nice to get to know them better, and so nice of them to let us stay there. My grandma (Mana) flew in and stayed with Barbara and Ralph too, and my sister drove up from Virginia, so it was a whole family affair. My aunt and uncle and family also drove down from Connecticut and we all went out to dinner after the show on Saturday. It was quite a lovely time.
Here is everyone in my mom's booth. Except April who is taking the picture.
I also bought my first piece of art. Look how happy I am.
Unfortunately, I had to send it home with my parents because we have no place for art in our current habitat. It is beautiful though, and I am excited to be reunited with it in a few months.
On a solid note, Jake and I only have to pay three more months' rent in the SoRoHo. On a bummer note, one of the classes I was planning to take this summer is not being offered anymore. I guess I'll never learn about Urban Planning Law. Sure I'm taking two other planning courses at the same time (did I mention I will have three finals in one day while Jake waits in the car with all of our things because our lease will have run out? I guess that's for another blog...) but I was looking forward to drowning in planning-related studies.
For those of you reading this blog and planning on going to law school, don't take Administrative Law. It just blows. Hard. It wouldn't be so bad if I had had a year of Constitutional Law under my belt, but just being thrown into this constitution-heavy class is seriously bringing me down. It was not helped by the fact that I got called on in class for the first time this semester and just didn't know the answer to the question. It wasn't that I didn't read, because I did, it was because the specific case the professor was asking questions about had four parts: Administrative Hearing, Circuit Court, Supreme Court, back to Circuit Court, then eventually remanded back to the agency, and I just got lost and wasn't sure which ruling was which. What made it worse was that the professor, instead of saying something comforting, said "If you're not prepared, just tell me to pass it on."
IT WAS AWFUL.
I was so bummed for the rest of the day.
Anyway, Jake and I had a great time in Baltimore, and we would love to do it again...
as long as Jake let's me listen to a little Christina.
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