dearest daughters & son

worst day ever.goes to show

worst day ever.

goes to show that you should never be so presumptions as to assume that life is going your way, that your shit smells like roses, that you've reached some semblance of Happiness or at least some level of acceptance that you're close enough to the Ever Elusive Happiness that you'll be just fine.

as my mother might say, "God works in mysterious ways when you make plans he laughs and the pot calls the kettle names that are mean" which I think is the rough equivalent of: "shit happens and life is not fair"

jesus, lauren! melodramatic much?

learning how to play my harmonica in the 2nd position, that would be the blues.
scouring the internet for ways to flee the country. $280 RT to Nassau. or maybe $67/night in Toronto.
or maybe the state. $180 RT to DC.
or more likely the town. $33/night at the East Yarmouth seaside motor inn.
doing that thing where you alternate opening and closing your left and right eyes while holding objects in front of you or looking at far away things like stars (if i could see any from here). because it helps you to think about perspective. it makes you feel like you're in control. like the world revolves around you and you can make it shift back and forth just by blinking your eyes. and because it provides an endless distraction from my current state.

Okay, I admit it.

I do love Wellesley College. I would not be the same person I am today without it. Sure, I might have grown up eventually, got myself a pair of self-esteem pants and been the same person, generally speaking, at the end of it all. But, I am a Wellesley Woman through and through. I am a woman "who will," that is, "make a difference in the world," as the tagline goes.

I feel in such a state of limbo. Not quite here, but not quite there yet. Ready to leave, to spread my wings and crash (gracefully, I hope) into the arms of the Real World, but not quite ready to leave at the same time. I get teary about my favorite tree on campus or the library renovations that I won't be around to see or the professors whose undeserving favor I've gained or the buildings, oh, the buildings, the brick and ivy and everything New England or the women, yes them too, even the annoying ones and crazy ones, the ones who throw off the curve, the ones who know everything, and I mean everything, but especially the intelligent ones, the compassionate ones, the inspiring women who aren't trying to make life a competition, but who make you want to be a better person for them and for the world and for all that Wellesley College represents.

I hope I did right by you. And if I didn't, I will.

(um, I know this entry seems random, but it's because I presented at and attended a conference here on campus that celebrates Wellesley women's achievements)

A wise man once told me...

aka the personal email I just received from my Uncle John and that I probably shouldn't post because of some sort of informal copyright protection or something, but which I'm posting anyway because I think it's sweet and it means a lot to me.

Lauren,

How nice to hear from you. You've had such a good experience at Wellesley that I'm surprised to hear that you can't wait for it to be over. Perhaps it's just the classes you're referring to and not the college experience as a whole. After a bit of a rough start, it seems you've really gotten as much as you possibly could have from your time at school. I'm so envious because I never really did enjoy going to college and I don't really think I got much out of it. I can still remember leaving the building after my last exam at Cal and thinking "thank God that's all over, finally!!!" I couldn't wait to get it over with, while I think for you, while you may be ready to leave, you've had a truly meaningful experience all the same. And, what a difference a few years make: first, you couldn't wait to get home and now you can't bear the thought of returning. Well, that's as it should be isn't it? Your college experience has made you eager to enter the world and make your own way, even if it's only a short hop to graduate school.

As for selling your soul: you're far too young to sell your soul. There'll be plenty of time later in life to sell your soul, sell out, or to engage in whatever other kind of tortured compromise you want to in order to satisfy your material and comfort urges rather than suffering in pursuit of spiritual enlightenment and well being. Money would be nice, but so would a good experience. Even though you think of Preschool California [the place I'm applying for an internship] as support work, you never know what opportunities might come your way, who you might meet, or what you might learn. Why not go for experience over money at this stage? There's always plenty of time left in your life for doing soul deadening, uninteresting and socially unrewarding work that is at the same time very lucrative.

Even though you may not want to come home, it will be nice to have you back, even if only for a summer before you go off again to grad school. College as a season is ending for you, enjoy every last drop and think of the wonderful life you have before you.

I'm so blessed. And I hope by "every last drop" he's refering to alcohol.

and another thing

"teacherly"

the best compliment I've ever received

To add to my list of the person I want to be.

I'm never eating oatmeal again. Okay, this just goes to show how all that organic, healthy marketed crap is well, crap. May, from what I've read on some food blogs is like, "eat locally" month or something like that, which I think is crap too. I mean, it's easy enough to do in California, just go to a farmers market or join one of the co-ops that delivers produce to your doorstep every week. But, then what about my coffee, which even if you bought it from say a fair trade women's cooperative in Mexico, is still further than 100 miles from my home? And what about condiments? I eat so much ketchup that if I made my own, I'd be in the kitchen all day. And Splenda? Good Lord. You just can't win.

So, I've concluded that life is all about karma. If I break down and buy something from Gap, then I buy my produce locally. If I must drink coffee with Splenda, then I ought to do something to support Immigrants' Rights. If I go to class and work on Monday, May 1st instead of attending demonstrations here in Boston (because really, me not showing up to work at the Office of Continuing Education where only one other person works, isn't going to prove anything to anyone), then I guess I should figure out another way to make a stand. If, hypothetically, I have a friend who is applying for a job at the Walmart headquarters, then, hypothetically, she'll find other ways to make positive peace in the world. We all will. Compromise and give and take. And instead of eating breakfast or driving or using ketchup, we should all just sit in the dark and spin our own wool sheared from local sheep, knit the yarn with found objects like windfallen twigs, felt it by handwashing in local streams and then we can make more hair clips for my nieces. Don't worry, I already have scissors, needles, and the actual clips, so no one has to learn any metalworking or anything.

the first of our last activities as Wellesley College seniors. ooh six!

kt and katie rollin' across severance green
Originally uploaded by laurenarcissus.

A gorgeous morning. A bit groggy. But, we made our way to hooprolling by and by. I'm not too too too into traditions or school spirit or winning, so I stuck to the back of the pack and didn't intend on winning. I decorated my hoop with ribbons galore like I was Martha Stewart on crack. So, I wasn't even going to let that thing touch the ground. But, once we were all huddled there, wearing our gowns, remembering first year, and hearing about the President's hooprolling victory that took place 40 years ago, well, call me crazy, but I was actually overcome with emotion. With pride and excitement and a bit of adrenaline. Needless to say, it wasn't enough emotion to carry me to the finish line, but I'm glad I went hooprolling, even at the butt crack of dawn. And I'm glad I went to Wellesley too. It's been a good time. And now, all that's left is the beginning of the end.

Hmmmm...

interesting , considering the gist of my last post.

When I was in South Africa, we spent a portion of every morning's lecture learning the South African national anthem, Nkosi Sikelel' iAfrika to perform for our host parents when we left. There are about a zillion different verses in that many languages. We only learned this version. And I still remember it for the most part. Oh, and did I mention that I'm not South African? This is a global, transnational post-modern world that we're living in here folks. So, thank you Mr. British Composer Guy for writing our national anthem in Spanish for the nearly-not-a-minority-(in numbers)-group-anymore of Spanish speakers. Now we just need a Korean-Brazilian living in Malaysia to write the U.S. national anthem in Tagalog. Then, he or she can teach us how to eat properly.

look see here

see. i told you.

my first attempt at making my own things. i made these for my niece abigail for her 5th birthday. i haven't mailed them yet, so don't tell her, okay?

On the subject of tattoos.

Erica, KT and I just had a genuine sleepover, without the sleeping over bit. It was mostly just the talking all night bit. Discussion, with the creative assistance of a few and a half G&Ts;, ranged from time travel and physics to, of course, teleportation and ethics to typesetting and to a final discourse on tattoos, as elaborated here:

Erica, in her characteristically random nature: If you had to get a tattoo, where would you get it and where?

Lauren, in her characteristically babbling fountain of indecipherable Laurenspeak Wisdom and opinionation: Well, it would be something connected to me, you know. It wouldn't be a word or a character in another language, because I don't speak another language. And blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah. Like, if I got an animal, it'd have to be an animal with some sort of spiritual connection.

Erica, her interest peaked by the mention of anything with eyes: You mean, like, a dolphin?

Katherine, forcing herself to think about where she'd get a hypothetical tattoo if she absolutely had to think about where to get a hypothetical tattoo: I don't know?

Lauren, in an unnervingly serious tone: Oh! A fairy, definitely a fairy. Or some sort of mystical creature ...

Katherine, having deliberated: ... a dove ...

Lauren, refocusing attention on the focus of attention: Doves aren't mystical. No. Not a fairy. Maybe a unicorn or, yes, maybe, a leprechaun.

Erica, evading the question she proposed: I wouldn't get a tattoo.

Note: For a dramatic reenactment in your area, please contact Bombay Sapphire.