Heart on my sleeve

What strange cards I've been dealt. I'm extraordinarily fortunate to be traveling to France, but I am not excited yet. This is probably why I have not yet started packing: It hasn't registered. It's probably because I've been distracted by being home. It has been the most bittersweet experience for me.

For those of you who don't know, I left my job early because of an ankle injury and now have time to see my friends and family in Cleveland before leaving for France. My time home has been dripping with nostalgia--a recipe for a semi-existential crisis for someone in my position. In many ways, the rug has been pulled form my feet lately. My friends in Cleveland and my family have been really terrific in this respect: catching me from what was a nasty fall from my tower of content and comfort. I'm not bitter at all about the way things have turned out. I'm actually as happy as I can be given the circumstances. I think a change of scenery will certainly do me good next year by helping me adjust to being by myself--making me more confident and self-reliable.

However, I cannot help but think how different things are form what I expected them to be when I was in high school. Driving home late form a friend's house tonight, I thought to myself, "I remember when I was begging my parents to let me stay out late to go to diners and meet my friends." I also drove by old Cravings--a popular hang out spot for me that served coffee that was too cold and food that was overwhelmingly mediocre and expensive. It's now filled with condos. It used to be filled with dim Christmas lights and crappy amateur music--the perfect eclectic environment for meeting new people and falling in love over a cup of crap coffee. And this, my friends, is precisely what I've been doing my whole life: wearing my heart on my sleeve. I always fell in love too easily--regardless of how it worked out. I don't regret it. Not really, anyway.

I always comforted myself when things didn't work out, telling myself that when I grew older things would change and become a whole lot less hectic. Boy, was I wrong. I quite honestly feel totally lost right now. Having no idea where I'm supposed to be or what I'm to be doing, I think France will be good thing for me. However, upon returning to St. Louis, I fear that there will be little left for me and that my senior year will be spent among a stack of papers next to my computer rather than with close friends I've developed in the last year. I can't help but feel that this is completely different form how I had imagined college in the first place. This is probably the kind of feeling Tom Waits had in mind when he wrote the song "Innocent when you Dream." (If you're wondering what I'm talking about, google the lyrics or check this out: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xxT_OmVN1wU&mode=related&search= ).

I've really had these fantastical dreams about where my life should be as opposed to where it really is now. Part of growing up for me has been keeping my feet on the ground, allowing for change to take its natural course. As a friend has recently pointed out to me, people will be exiting and entering my life a lot more frequently than I will ever want them to. However, that's not a good thing or a bad thing. It's just a thing. And me and this thing are having a long chat right now--trying to work something out.

In the meantime, I suggest you allow yourself to revisit a little bit of your high school or childhood that makes you a little uncomfortable or embarrassed. It's helpful in two ways: First, it allows you to see how far you've made it, making an evaluation of how far you've come. And Two, it will make you have a lot more patience for people are still figuring all this stuff out. (Oh, and if you're happy about losing your imagination, you should reevaluate that part).

Anyway, I'm feeling really good about my trip home. So many friendly faces have been able to instill a new sense of self-worth. I love everyone in St. Louis, but the comforts of home have provided a well-needed break from the heat and memories under the arch. Don't worry, I'll come back rejuvenated--you just work on keeping it cool for me.

Much love everyone. Please don't forget that you're innocent when you dream.