"In vacant or in pensive mood..." I am: Bekah; 24; Law Student / Favorite Things: Carbs (so there!), Johnny Damon, Smiling at babies, Grilled cheese, Comfortable silence / Favorite Supreme Court Justice: Brennan / Favorite Wilson: Owen by an inch / Today's Special: Song: Elliott Smith, "Bled White"; Quote: "You know, there's like a butt-load of gangs at this school. This one gang kept wanting me to join because I'm pretty good with a bowstaff." Please love me: mmbekah@yahoo.com


February 2003 March 2003 April 2003 May 2003 June 2003 July 2003 August 2003 September 2003 October 2003 November 2003 December 2003 January 2004 February 2004 March 2004 April 2004 May 2004 June 2004 July 2004 August 2004 September 2004 October 2004 November 2004 December 2004 January 2005 September 2005

 
Back From the Dead

I’m back from my yearly trip to North Carolina, and, as usual, very little has changed at the mountain house. The same natural artifacts and specimens sit on the bookshelves—snakeskins and pressed butterflies and chunks of mica. Under the artifacts are the same field guides about mushrooms and wildflowers, old Nancy Drew hardbacks with brittle, flaking covers, and hundreds of great works by Proust, Dickens, Wordsworth, and the rest. Massive historical volumes line the bottom shelves, and millions of old paperback mysteries and thrillers fill in the gaps. The old footed bathtub is in the upstairs bathroom, the firewood is by the fireplace as usual, and the stone porch looks out on the same mountain sunset I saw when I was little.

It shouldn’t be so surprising that everything is always the same at the house—the pipes aren’t winterized, so my family and cousins only visit in the summer. But it’s disconcerting that no matter how much I think I’ve grown, or how many changes happen in my life, everything feels the same at the house. The place is like a time warp: the physical house doesn’t change at all, and, when I go there, I get a strange feeling that I haven’t changed either. Even if I only stay there for a few days, it feels like I’ve been there for ages. All of the years of my life run together, and I can’t remember if I’m in law school or high school—if I need to do my seventh grade summer reading or study for the LSAT...or even think about where I’m going to take the Bar.

I was only there for a short time this year, but I definitely got my fix. It was a hard life, waking up in the middle of the day, going for a walk down the mountain, curling up on the couch to read, taking a bubble bath, and reading till bedtime. I’m pretty worn out from the exertion. It’s actually funny--when I got to the house, all I wanted to do was sleep and read and sleep more. I resented the idea of ever again having to do actual work or having to go to the trouble of even existing in a world where I had to dry my hair and put on uncomfortable shoes day after day. I was burnt out. But when it got to be time to go home, I was somehow ready for everything again. Now I’m anxious to start my job, and I’m anxious to do lots of reading and writing and enjoying life this summer with J and my friends around, and without school to worry about. This is officially my last summer as a student, and I’m willing to dodge the inevitable punch in the face I’m going to get from the real world as long as I can.

posted by Bekah at 3:45 PM :: |