Eponine and Cosette

This isn't really about them, of course.  I haven't seen or read Les Miserables in years, and it's been some time since I've even listened to the music.  They are, however, what often comes to mind when I think about myself.  They represent the duality between hopeless longing and fulfillment.  If you were to look at my life as an outsider, you'd think I'm more like Cosette.  I am, after all, happily engaged to be married to my Marius (I get him after all it seems).  My mom was looking at recent facebook photos of me and commented on how happy I look.  And I am.  I'm really happy with my life right now.  But I will always feel more connected with Eponine.  I watch Glee, and I am back in high school.  I feel for Rachel more than a normal person would.  That hopeless longing for a boy with a girlfriend (or in my case, at times, a boyfriend), is something that still resonates so deeply for me.  I know so well what it's like to be the unwanted, that it's still somewhat hard not to think of myself in that role.  I still like stories that are darker in nature, where not everything works out perfectly in the end.  If I'm honest with myself, I am neither Eponine nor Cosette.  Life's not as simple as being one of those two characters.  I'm more of an Elphaba from Wicked (The songs "I'm Not That Girl" and then "Just for This Moment" come to mind) or a Satine from Moulin Rouge.  Those are characters that are more developed (because let's be honest, neither the play nor the book was really about Eponine or Cosette).  I can latch onto the awkward witch who didn't really fit in anywhere until she met her Fiyero.  Or the courtesan who doesn't believe in love until after a significant amount of begging from her penniless writer.  These two get their fulfillment after some suffering.  Of course, they, like Eponine, die (don't disagree with me.  That sappy ending of Wicked was bullshit and it doesn't count.  She melted, end of story).  It seems I can't really like a character without some tragedy.  And I know Cosette had some tragedy, but that's not how I tend to think of her.  She represents the bright, shiny, happy people that make me want to puke.  I am happy, but I will never be bright and shiny.  And I will never forget what it's like to long hopelessly for what you know you can't have.  A part of me will always be with the Eponines of the world.

Two Mostly Unrelated Things

In a week or so, it will be seven years since I started this.  Seven years doesn't seem like so much, but it's an eternity when you think of how much your life can change.  It's the difference of being a sophomore in high school to being out of college.  That's huge.  Seven years ago, my identity was mostly defined by being the perpetually single girl who kept falling for cute gay boys.  I was so negative about everything.  Now, it's been nearly five years since I've been single.  I wear a ring on my finger, and I'm picking out dresses.  The girl who started this weblog would never believe she'd turn into this.  She might believe she'd be out of her mom's house and in an apartment (I always swore I'd never move back in after college), but never with her fiance.  She wouldn't believe how optimistic I tend to be that everything will work out okay.  She'd think I'm crazy for believing that things happen for a reason and that it's part of God's plan.  I'll certainly never be the kind of person who believes God speaks to them and tells them to go teach kids in China (a completely different rant that I will not get into, except to say that some people seem to use religion as just another way to glorify themselves), but I think enough has happened, both good and bad, in the past year to convince me that life isn't just random occurrences.  Of course we don't completely change.  A depressive girl is always depressive.  While optimistic in general about the future, I still find the negative in little things.  I still cry more than most people who know me would think.  But, generally, I'm a happier person.  This ring on my finger means more to me than it might to other people, because it means I've overcome so much of my past.  I always said I would never get married, mainly because I was afraid of the pain such a strong commitment can set you up for.  But I fell in love and turned into one of those people who believes in soulmates, who believes in happily ever after.  On House this week, Chase says he won't marry Cameron, because she's planning for in case things don't work out in the end.  He says he'll wait until she knows it's right.  She says you can't know that something will work out, that it will last forever.  And he says that he knows.  While I truly hate the direction House has been going in lately, I found this quite relevant, because before I met Devin, I would have thought Chase was crazy, and would have agreed with Cameron that you can't ever know.  But now I know and I find Chase completely justified in not wanting to be with someone who isn't so sure.  So much can change in seven years.

In case all that was too sappy for you, the second part will be more true to the old standard for what my entries were like.

I had a horrible dream a couple weeks ago.  In it, men broke into my house and raped my mother and me.  While truly disturbing, this is not the part that sticks with me.  What continues to upset me is what happened next in the dream.  I ran to your house, and although you let me in, you mostly ignored me while I related my trauma.  You told me you had to go, and you wouldn't stay with me and comfort me.  And I woke up and missed you.  Of all the people who are currently a part of my life, why did I run to someone who's not there for me anymore?  Maybe it's just because I always thought of your house as being somewhere safe and somewhere close enough that I could literally run to if I really needed help.  But I don't even know if you live there anymore.  I don't know where you are at all.  You were my closest friend, both in proximity and emotionally.  You were always the person I would go to when I needed someone to talk to.  The dream makes part of me nostalgic.  If I knew where they were, I'd probably pull out my old year books, reread the page each year that was reserved for your random shit.  The dream makes part of me angry at what I'm missing.  You should've been one of the first people I called when I got engaged.  I always imagined in the rare chance I got married, you'd be one of my bridesmaids.  But I doubt you've even heard the news.  The dream makes part of me wonder what happened to us.  Was it my fault?  Was it yours?  I don't really have any answers.  I don't wonder anymore about the disappearing boys that plagued me for so long.  I don't care what happened to Kirk or why he never talked to me again after All State.  I am free from them.  But I never expected that someday I'd be searching for answers about you.  I never thought you'd become one of the nameless people I direct an entry to, doubtful that it will ever be read by you.  I want you to know that although I made several wonderful friends in college, I never allowed myself to get close enough to any of them that I could be hurt if they walked out of my life.  I want you to know that this has nothing to do with Kirk or Alex or Andy or any of them.  It has to do with you.  I want you to know that I lost many friends from high school, but none were as shocking or as devastating as losing you.  I want you to know that there are songs I can't separate you from, memories I wish I could have back.  I'm a different person now, I know.  I'm mostly happy with how things have turned out for me.  But I miss you sometimes, and you were who I ran to in my dream, even though you weren't willing to help. 

Meow

It's Almost Like Being a Grownup

I feel like being in your early twenties is one of the strangest times in your life.  I don't feel like an adult, but I guess I am.  I'm 22.  I can drive, vote, buy porn, smoke, gamble, drink, all that fun stuff.  I've moved out of my mom's house, and am living with the man I'll one day marry.  I cook and I clean (really!).  I pay all my own bills.  It's almost like being a grownup.  But I don't feel like one.  I don't know why, but I can't think of people my age as being men and women.  We're still girls and guys and I kinda wonder when that will change.  For the most part, I'm all grown up, but there are some ways that I still feel very in between.  The main one, I guess is that I'm an intern.  Unpaid.  Still in school.  Our program is weird, because you go to classes for four years and then you do 6 or 9 months of unpaid labor.  So, I don't have to set foot on the Montclair campus again (thank God), but I'm still, technically a student.  Aside from the lack of paycheck and health insurance, I do really like the internship.  I didn't think that psych was for me, but I'm finding it fascinating, and I think when I'm done I may change my mind about wanting to work in a nursing home.  This is so much more interesting.  And it's so much more useful than my four years of schooling ever were.  I am challenged and supported, and I really think I'm learning for once.  School, while fun at times, really was a waste for me, because I'm so good at getting through courses and getting good grades without actually learning anything.  So, I'm entering the internship fairly unprepared, but I think my supervisor is going to be pretty good at working me into shape.  And working with psych patients has the added bonus of very interesting stories, so it's all good.  I also think that, for me, marriage will probably make me feel more like an adult, even though really nothing will change, except my name and my health benefits.  It's been almost two months of living in sin, but I still kinda feel like I'm playing house sometimes, like it's not really real.  And it's funny being 22 and being so certain of my romantic future.  Over the years, the age at which you're expected to settle down has changed so much, which means I get very different reactions about my romantic status depending on whom I talk to.  People my own age, if they don't know me well, often think I'm very young to be so serious, so sure that I'll be married in a few years.  Meanwhile, I'm pretty sure my grandparents take a look at my left hand every time they see me.  Me, I'm ready whenever, because we're practically married already.  My goal is to be like my grandparents, who were married for almost 60 years.  I see a lot of similarities between us, and that makes happy.  My grandpa knew from the very beginning that she was the one for him, and even though she turned him down the first time, they finally ended up together.  She was 24 when they got married, and I figure I'll be around that age.  She, like me, was born a W, always at the end of alphabetical lines.  She always said she'd marry someone whose last name started with A.  She didn't, but I will, and I just thought that was really cute.  Anyway, I'm rambling, so I'll stop and go clean floors and make myself pretty before Devin comes home, just like a good housewife haha.

Singing At My Grandfather's Funeral