"Yeah? What's up?" The grubby guy from behind the Costco counter looked up at my dad, with the attitude that clearly says he would care more about the rarest form of some cow udder disease than about what "was up" with my dad. I glance away with still that weird remote feeling in my gut these days. 

So much unfinished business. There has been so many things lately that seem to have begun and worked on for so long and now, instead of wrapping up into a clean finish, just sort of unravel and splay out its weary yarn all over the place, and there is no energy whatsoever to try to piece them back together into one coherent rope. This is worse than not beginning these things to begin with. 

1) O, with all the business of trying to drag his ass over here for graduate school, is struggling with a timing issue between Duke and his Norway home university, each demanding things from the other for confirmation that leads to royally lame layers of catch-22s. 

2) The age old Duke versus UChicago debate still stays with me, and I think if I find in the next few months that I have developed a brain tumor over this situation of which law school to go to, I wouldn't even be able to decide whether to name the fucking tumor Duke or Chicago. 

I stared at the counter at the photo center harder, raking my eyes over the ridiculously color-enhanced pictures of families of racially-homogenous people per picture caught in the middle playing beachball with a blonde, blue-eyed kid, or some wholesome looking black kid who looks like he was raised on oatmeal and non-sugar cheerios smiling widely at the camera showing off his two missing front teeth. 

I felt sick, as I heard that beer-bellied What's Up Guy mumbling some crap about gloss or matte, thinking that half a year ago, I thought I would be currently living as satisfied of a life as I could have, even if not all the results were exactly what I wanted. I had, at the very least, expected some final answers. 

We had to waste about 20 minutes of time waiting for the large print to develop, which was a large collage of family pictures and random items that remind me of my mother for mother's day. The last time I really "made" anything for her was when I was in 4th grade, when mothers day projects were mandatorily integrated into the school curriculum (LOVE YOUR MOTHER, YOU UNGRATEFUL BRAT was the idea). 

I wandered around Costco listlessly touching things like packs of bread, packs of socks, packs of camisoles, jars of pickles, trying to get a grasp on what exactly was bothering me. 

I looked up and saw a disgusting fat man leering at me behind some boxes of mini-bite chips and pretzels. Usually just looking away distastefully or raising my eyebrows, this time I felt my face unable to really react. I just stared back, looking at him, and felt absolutely nothing. 

I watched his expression change from grin/leering, to uncertainty, to confusion, and finally settled on a slight note of disturbed discomfort at my blankness. He looked away first, and focused very hard on the crates of pretzels in front of him... salty or plain? curved or stick? amazing choices, have to think harder. 

I need to decide on a school and just stick with it. O keeps telling me that I keep looking to different people to ask for their opinions not really to just get their opinion. That secretly I just want someone to tell me where to go, because I want both schools, and with the mindset of grass is always greener on the other side, that I would like the idea that there is someone else to blame for that final choice. 

Yeah. That sounds pretty much like me. More precisely though, I can't help but wish there was some stupid looking glass that I can look at my stupid self 10 years from now, after making choices like these and seeing where it takes me.

"You've got to have faith in what you choose and stick with it," he was patiently telling me in his little Skype window. 

"Faith? Fine, but I have to have proof first," I replied, hearing and knowing very well how I should just stamp my foot and shake my fist to complete the maturity picture.

O sighs. "You realize you just completely broke the definition of what faith is?"

Not knowing what to say, I drew a small face on my thumb with Sharpie and showed it to him to distract him. He called me retarded and laughed. At least I ended that conversation. 

No final school choice, no final decision on whether boyfriend will be here or not, no final grades yet, no final graduation. I've even decided not to go to my Berkeley graduation. Somehow, sometimes I feel like that wasn't so great of an idea. Lack of closure might be the last thing I need right now. 


-A

Tags: gray tones
Current Location: home
Current Mood: restless