So here it is: my self-absorbed blog.
I suppose you're wondering a lot of things, like how my self-absorbed blog got its name, what its purpose is in life, and why the heck I needed a self-absorbed blog in the first place. And I'm going to tell you these things and probably a lot of other junk too, because its 11:20PM, my boyfriend's sleeping, and I need someone to talk to. And he got mad at me for trying to lay in bed next to him and tell him about my life. So I thought I would tell his flat screen computer instead.
For all intents and purposes, this blog is about my study-abroad to Athens, which, unfortunately, doesn't happen for another year. But hell, I'm making life changes and getting a head start on something might be good for me to do, for a change. Elaborating some more on the circumstances of my title and life predicament: I am a Classical Studies Major (yes, I know I have no life options besides an extended foray into academia and/or law school, but oddly enough I'm trying to break into the film business), and it is required for my major that I learn some Ancient Greek. So basically, I spend my days translating various vignettes about Xerxes, Themistocles, and How the Egyptians Avoided Gnats, which, albeit, is all very interesting, but there's always one little phrase that makes no sense, that I can't understand. Which is weird, because the Ancient Greeks were very frank; they told you how it was. But they did it in such a specific way that its complicated. I can't explain. Lost in translation, I guess.
But here's the thing. This "it's all Greek to me" thing? This "I don't understand the world around me and maybe I should" thing? That's the relevant part. So poignantly relevant that I started this blog a year early with the sole purpose of preparing myself for going to a country where I only know the dead version of its language, all by myself, for four months.
Because how can I ever presume to think I'll be fine and dandy gallivanting around Athens and "finding myself" when I'm not really sure what I'm looking for anymore? I'm caught at a crossroads, at an age where you kind of need to step out of your own awkwardness and into your big-kid life. And I don't really know what that entails. All I know is that I've been, well, blah these past couple of weeks and I needed a lift, and tonight especially I was thinking about things that I used to do to make me happy that I just don't do anymore. So here's a list (you'll come to find that I LOVE lists):
Things I Want To Do That I Don't So Much Anymore:
1) Sing, especially while playing piano. When I sing in the car, its bittersweet, and my voice is a lot feebler than it used to be. I want to sing in places other than my car.
2) Dance. I used to dance around my room alone at night just for fun, and now I don't. I don't know why I stopped. I just did.
3) Pretend. I mean, I just haven't really had the chance lately; I haven't consciously stopped. I used to like to go "fake shopping" for prom gowns when I had no prom to go to, for "rich clothes" for my later "rich" life, "home shopping" for my future home. And I always got a kick out of thinking about the possibility of things, more than I think I do about those possibilities becoming realities. Or maybe I liked to pretend someone was filming me for a cliche "clothes-trying-on" montage. Who knows?
4) Watch Sappy, Bad Movies. No Bryant, I don't want to be a film snob. I want to be me, and me likes bad, cliche, not-groundbreaking, regular old box office fluff films. I want to write regular, cliche, box office fluff films. I want to make stuff that Amy Adams stars in, and I think that's okay. Because you're supposed to write what you know, right? I know sap. I know cliche. And I don't want to be Dziga Vertov or Orson Welles, I want to be Oscar Wilde. I want to do what everyone's doing better than anyone else who's doing it. Flawlessly, harmlessly. So fuck you, Bryant.
5) Write. And this is the easiest thing for me to do right now, to write, because I can just start this blog and do it and even now I feel lighter, more tired, but light. I used to write every time I felt something. I don't know if I feel too much now or much less than I used to but I know I don't write it.
I think there's this charm in writing about high school that goes away when you hit college, because in college what you talk about every day isn't dreams or tripping in the cafeteria. You talk about who's a slut and that asshole that talks like she's the best thing ever in class, and about sketchy boys and what readings you can skip and still scrape your way through school. Its like the German Expressionist version of high school: everything's murkier and well, morally ambiguous. You realize everyone that you go to school with is as smart, as talented, and as charming as you are. Heck, I'll admit it. Most people at Bowdoin are MORE smart, charming and talented than I am. And I can't find a place for it. It bothers me. But I have to deal with it.
So I write, so I have a voice. I need a voice. I can't possibly tell you how much I need this voice.
I'm awkward. I'm hopeless, and I need this. I need to start writing again. There's no way I can deal with all the drama and emotion that's breathing down my neck (more on this later) without some humor. And there will be humor, trust me.
So I hope you understand why I'm writing this. Because "it's all Greek to me" isn't just funny because I'm a Classical Studies Major, but because I know more about the kind of person Themistocles is (he's a double-dealer, don't trust him) than I know who I am.
So I hope this wasn't boring, and I hope somehow thinking about all this might help my study for my Mythology test on Monday.
But I'm thinking probably it won't.
