i have no idea what to make of 2005. to say the least, it was one of the most important of my life, but i'm not sure how i feel about it. wonderful things happened to me, and some not so wonderful. i feel.... empty, i think. hollow. nothing but an empty shell of sorts. on the outside are all these wonderful things, but don't be fooled by the facade. or maybe gilded is a better description. at any rate, the high highs of oh-five made the lows that much lower. but at the same time, the lows made me more appreciative of the highs. am i making sense?
if i sound like i am complaining, that is not my intention. merely i am trying to convey my detachment that persisted throughout the year as a whole. i approached a lot of situations/people at an arm length's distance. as a result this was probably the loneliest year of my life, and it was no one's fault but my own. i resolve not to do that in oh six.
oh five will forever be remembered as the year i didn't get into yale. and no, i still can't let that go. i probably won't ever. unless, you know, i magically get accepted into their med school.
this year i developed an incredible love for traveling. i went all over the coast of cali, made a few treks to new york city and boston, was in awe over england, and lived in spain for a few weeks.
i was a second semester senior, which was probably my most favorite time of life thus far. between half assing every assignment and still graduating with a 96.89 average, i started going to the beach in april and arriving to school around noon (just in time for lunch, of course) if i even bothered to arrive at all. there were several senior nights, the bay queen cruise, prom season, awards banquets, arts events, graduation, post graduation parties.
unfortuantely, there were too many goodbyes.
but! i said just as many hellos, if not, more. i started college at a school i couldnt have cared less about and like it in spite of myself!
crying on the phone to ryan one night after a few too many jaegerbombs i was comforted in the 6th floor hallway of cunningham by someone i now consider to be one of the nicest, most genuine people i know. i partied, cowgirl style, with my best friend. (i landed one of the sweetest living spaces for next year with her!) i was in awe over an afro and made a friend for life. i bonded with fellow science majors next to the fume hood as we lamented our poor luck for having landed in the same four hour friday afternoon chem lab. (thank god i have it on thursdays next semester though!) i was invited stargazing by friends made at orientation. several nights (or in the small hours of the morning) i bundled up tight and packed tea in travel mugs for midnight strolls with my intensely philosophical companion - he brought the skittles. we went to plays.
i saw the gates - that was cool. i can cross my need to see a jean claude work off my list.
i was in a state of total contentment (enlightenment, perhaps?) while in the presence of the dalai lama. words still can't describe - i can't even write about it in my real journal yet. it was magical, and i know that sounds SO INCREDIBLY lame but that's all there is to it. my life was absolutely falling apart, torn to pieces by the seams, crushed to bits of immeasurable dust, going down the tubes, being swept away in ruins. and then i sat by the shore for a few hours in the presence of one of the most powerful religious figures to have ever lived, and everything was perfect. simultaneously, nothing else mattered yet everything else mattered. i was flawed, and i was okay with that. accepted it instead of fought it. hell, i even fucking forgot about myself at some points and just closed my eyes and let his words wash over me like a calm wave on moist sand, gently rolling out pretty puka shells on the shore and lapping lightly on colorful blankets, perhaps filling a moat in a child's sandcastle. bah. words fail me.
i became addicted to retail therapy. i started real therapy. i experienced the most un-fucking-believable pain in the world when i went through withdrawal after deciding to take myself off my medication. withdrawal symptoms are not fun. lesson learned.
i wrote. (but not enough.)
i tie-dyed. (but not enough.)
i grew, physically, mentally, intellectually, emotionally.
----not enough.