We've been here before. I recognize that tree.
Okay, TRUTH. I don't have oodles of new things to share with you. But I have this to share with you UH-GAIN.
I didn't realize I had polish on my cuticles until I took these photos, so...ugh. And, I'm sorry. But you know, it is what it is. And what is it? It's this weird, kind of gross-colored polish that is awesome. To describe the color of China Glaze Trendsetter I'm tempted to venture into comparisons with poo, but I won't go there, friends. No, no. This is an incredibly elegant swampy green with really lovely golden shimmer. This one looks different here than in my first photos of it, but that's the different lighting conditions, I guess. Either way I love it. I think it looks better on me when my nails are shorter, but that's alright. I'm still relishing the color, and I'm glad I brought this bottle to New York with me. Three coats, by the way. And a good, China Glaze-y formula.
Okay, ladies. I am having problems. My first week of class was fine. I am not jumping up and down about what I'm taking, but I don't seem to hate any of the classes, so we'll stick a tally in the pro column. I went out with someone and experienced a new borough on Friday (Queens) and saw a neat museum (this one), so that was good too. All in all I was feeling sort of okay heading into the weekend. And then on Saturday night I get a text from my mom (they had just gotten back to Ohio from their infinity-long vacay in Scotland) that my grandmother wasn't doing well. I was shocked by this. I had called her not too long ago, hadn't gotten an answer, so I left a nice detailed message. My grandmother is a busy woman for being 89. She usually has to pencil me into a booked schedule that includes visits to the senior center and some visits from my uncles. So I didn't think anything of it when she didn't call me back. Honestly, I always thought that if something happened someone would CALL ME. I am very close to my grandmother, and the thought didn't even cross my mind that I would ever be left out of any loops re: her. And I was wrong. I gave her another call and got a long story about how she had been in the hospital (twice? still not sure) but she didn't want to call me because she didn't want to bother me, etc. Again, I was shocked. And devastated that I wasn't there and she was alone.
So there I was, sitting in my apartment on a Saturday night, sobbing into the phone with my grandmother on the other end. I couldn't get a grip that night. I felt unimaginably homesick for so many reasons, and I felt unimaginably guilty for not being there for my grandmother. And on Sunday I was so out of sorts. I wouldn't talk to anyone. My best friend kept trying to get ahold of me, and even my exchanges with my boyfriend were bitchy. Finally my mom called and told me she had visited my grandmother and it wasn't as bad as my grandmother had made things sound. This did make me feel a little better, and I called grandma on Sunday night to talk to her. We talked for about 20 minutes about this and that, and after that conversation I felt a little bit more normal. But still. The cry-fest I had in the shower (I almost always get in the shower when I feel a nervous breakdown coming on) is haunting me and I haven't felt right in a couple days. But I talked on the phone to one of my friends yesterday, and he said so many things that I felt were right on and amazing that I wrote them down on post-its and stuck them to the door to the apartment so that I'll see them when I leave every day:
pink: don't hesitate to come home
blue: you'll either hit your wall and feel like climbing over it, or you'll know it's enough
purple: don't get caught up in the competition; it's pointless
orange: this will become your element
I'm trying to look on the bright side, which is that I am actually headed back to Cleveland on Friday morning, so I feel like this:
Ben's friends are getting married and I decided I was going to do everything I could to attend that wedding. And I will see my parents, to whom I've spoken very minimally in the past couple weeks. And, of course, I will see my grandmother. But I'm naturally pretty pessimistic (I don't think I got this from my mother, so I'm starting to think it actually came from my grandmother) and I can't help but think ahead to when I come back to New York and I start feeling shitty and alone all over again. What I'm saying is that I think this might not be worth it. My best friend has this way of talking me down off of ledges, and she said something like, "You can do this. We all know you can do this." But unfortunately the one person who has to know I can do this is me. And as I told her, my drive just isn't there. Once upon a time this was my dream, but what if my priorities have shifted as I've grown a little older? I just don't know anymore. And that's the hardest thing. To not know what I want, to not have that goal that's propelling me forward...well, that's very unlike me.
But come Friday morning I will have this:
And it'll feel so good to see him. I am counting down the days.