funny how long it can take for things to progress. seemingly stewing in a relentless rutting slump. when in reality, things are transitioning behind the scenes more quickly than you could ever begin to fathom. chapters progressing. pages flipping. next thing you know, it's years later. acquaintences forgotten. next steps and stories only half written, crumpled in a ball, stuck between the sticky dirty bedroom wall and plastic garbage can.
today i thought about friends forgotten. realized some good quality people in my life are no longer in it. i remembered one of my best girlfriends in college, who now has two children that i have never even met. i couldn't even tell you their names or how old they are. i thought of friends i spent the past two summers with, who have all gone one way or another, traveling or relationships or just outgrown chicago, the city i've grown to know and love. on the dreary rainy friday this week past, i rode the brown line to irving park from downtown. remembering my 4 year former daily commute, and how i had memorized each stop. the nostalgic feeling of routine. standing against the filthy metallic pole, gripping more tightly than i need to, (as per my usual uptight self), it hit me that it has been ten years since highschool graduation. five since college.
where had everyone gone? my distant twisted family? forgotten childhood neverquite friends and classmates? batting my sleepy eyelashes and keeping my angry 'im-on-public-transportation-perma-bitch-scowl-dont-bug-me-you-creepy-homeless-man-frown', it suddenly hit me that i wasn't really sure where i went either. what happened to me. when did i ever decide what to be when i grew up? am i grown up? it's been ten years. i'm sure as hell not in argyle anymore. yet, here i am. living life day by day, growing past each obstacle and hurdle, making the most out of what i can.
not doing such a bad job, either. but still. who the hell woulda ever thought id be who i grew up to be. or live where i now live, with who i live with. be friends the people i've met. i have no regrets. although i'd be lying if i said i wouldn't do things differently on an impulse. if i had the option and put thought into it, i dont think i'd make (m)any changes, but if it was on impulse, i know i would. i can be a bit of a hostile firecracker at times. especially if you fuck with my shit. i'm a lioness and shit. leave my cubs the fuck alone. but as much sense as i don't make right now, i have this gut feeling shit is working out the way its supposed to.
i was watching my so called life tonight. and the concluding scene was the episode where angela ditches on her mom's mother/daughter fashion show so her little sister can have the chance to work the runway. the song they play at the uplifting heartwarming life lesson narration is none other than enigma's 'return to innocence.' this pure moods shit took me back to fifth grade. when i shamelessly rocked the ugly big glasses/wet tangly curly mullet look. and sang indian chants in my bedroom. and the lion king was by far, my favorite movie.
this made me proud that i now am the person i was then. and still am. i may no longer croak indian chants in my bedroom and would never willingly grow another mullet, but was i just crooning whitney houston's 'i will always love you' in my bathroom while flossing my teeth sporting a wicked foul high pony? yes. have i listened to the bodyguard soundtrack in the last 13 years? no. am i a weirdo? thank goodness, i reckon so.
so this prolonged tangent ramble about absolutely nothing is this and this only. i miss yesterday. and the day before that. but i think more than that, i just am having a hard time waiting for tomorrow. because goddamn it, i'm ready for that next novel to fucking take hold and remove itself from that wilting shoebox that rotted underneath my childhood bed.
.(to next chapters and new beginnings).
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