I will not forget you.

Oh Xanga blog, do not feel neglected.  I have not forgotten you. 

I love Hawaii.  Love the obvious things: the sunshine, the proximity to the beach, the always-flip-flop-ready weather.  But I've come to love parts of this place I didn't understand existed: the ability for so many cultures to co-mingle, and yet remain so strong, the prevalence of rice, the fact that even indoors, you're breathing outdoor air.  It's a pretty fab place.

Soon, I will blog more.  Now, I'm too distracted by facebook, and bed, and the Travel channel. 

[10,000 stones hanging deep in my heart]
[no I don't know why they don't tear me apart]
[how could I ever believe 10,000 stones would bring the best in me?]

What it means to leave.

There are so many things I should be doing instead of blogging.  Cleaning.  Laundry.  Packing.  Ugh, mostly packing. Instead I'm enjoying a mildly creepy commerical involving a man scuba diving in a pool with his cat, and updating you fine folks (ok, the two or three of you who still xanga) on the thoughts revolving through my brain.

My recent thoughts have primarily been about leaving.  For those of you not in the loop, I am moving.  To Hawaii.  July 29.  Yeah, it's coming pretty soon.  And I keep thinking about what leaving means.

Leaving means seeing friends' facebook updates, and realizing that I'm no longer a part of their day-to-day.

Leaving means getting rid of most of my material possessions, and packing those away that I cannot bear to permanently part with.

Leaving means missing all sorts of moments: Angelica's concerts, Greg's games, Tori's first day of kindergarten, Marcus's arrival, Em's probable engagement, Lucas's first full sentences...and those are only the siblings!

Leaving means no possible run-ins with random people I once knew.

Leaving means hopping on a plane, not sure when I'll be able to return.

Leaving means holidays without family.

Leaving means no paycheck until the end of September.

Leaving means not being able to randomly decide to get together and bar hop Grand Avenue, or head to the Como Zoo, or even to do appetizers at Applebee’s.

Leaving means one suitcase.  One suitcase for EVERYTHING I'm bringing with.

Leaving means a month of crying before I leave, and probably two when I arrive.  Ok, maybe three.

The people you used to know.

Does it sometimes exhaust you to see the people you used to know?  The ones who were once quite familiar with the intricacies of your day-to-day life and now know little even about the big picture?  I find it all exhausting.  For me, it brings back all the emotions of who I once was, often things that are painful to recall.  Reasons relationships deteriorated.  Insecurities they were aware of.  Or caused. 

I saw those kinds of people this weekend.  People who knew things about me.  Real things.  Things the general public did not.  People I was vulernable with, who sometimes used that vulnerability against me.  People who now know little to nothing about who I've become.  And yet I still feel I have something to prove to them.  That I'm worth something.  That I've figured things out.  That I don't need them the way I once might have.

Encounters with those kinds of people, the ones I used to know, also revealed that there are probably new versions of those kinds of people in my midst right now.  People who will hurt me.  People who will float out of my life, and be seen later as near strangers.  People who must be let go because of the manipulation they employ.

Thank goodness those are not the only people I know.  Thank goodness for those who care, who may wound, but without malice.  I'm quite grateful that I know some pretty amazing people.  Be one of those.

[Doesn't that feel peculiar when everyone wants a little more?]
[So they like to remember to never go that far]
['Cause you leave me with a scar]

Do you still know someone if you read their facebook updates?

It's been nine months since I graduated.  (I know because my loan repayment has begun.)  Lately, I've begun to recognize how much has happened in those nine months.  How quickly people evolve into someone who is scarcely a reminder of who they once were.  I'm different, and I can only speculate to the degree others are.  Can you really understand someone when your primary source of information is a social networking site?  I'm pretty confident you can't.  Those profiles are little more than the summary on the back of a dvd.  Some details, but no depth.

I've blogged before about the effect music has on me, but I had a conversation with Alison about music yesterday, and I'm fueled to discuss again.  Songs have the power to take me back, to evoke feelings from days gone by.  Playlists place me back in the months right after they were downloaded and assembled.  The song "Sweet Escape" by Gwen Stefani always takes me back to Hawaii, the Big Island, to time spent cruising in the car with Kyle and Sara and Bethany; moments that were happy, carefree and windblown.  The Plain White T's "Hey There Delilah" reminds me of driving up and down the Florida Keys with Em, a time full of joy, anxiety and construction.  "Keep Breathing" by Ingrid Michaelson puts me in May of senior year, a time where it seemed all I could do to keep my head above water in the midst of so many goodbyes.

Life is a flurry of relational beginnings and endings.  Sometimes they happen simultaneously, sometimes they're staggered.  But they always happen.  I think I'm at a place where a lot of endings have happened, but I just now realized that that was what they were.  People I hadn't consciously said goodbye to yet.  So now that's the project.

[Where'd you go?]
[I miss you so]
[Feels like it's been forever since you've been gone.]

Money speaks commitment.

They say you should put your money where your mouth is.  I'm starting to work on it.  In the past week, I've put good money towards graduate school.  I planned and payed for a trip to visit the college I'm checking.  Tonight, I signed up to take the GRE.  Normal people schedule these things months, even years in advance.  I do it in a week...because that's how I roll. 

I miss being a student.  Hard to believe an entire semester has passed without textbooks and exams.  I don't miss paying tuition.  I only sort of miss the stress of finals week.  More than anything I miss being part of such a diverse group identity.  To be a student...it's been a part of my identity for most of my life. 

The Cities aren't all they're cracked up to be.  I'm unimpressed, and to be completely honest, not incredibly happy.  Not the Ashley I enjoy being.  Which is why I'm seriously exploring other options.  Because life is way too short to be spent just getting through.

[and you've had enough]
[but the search ends here and your heart is fierce]
[and now you finally know that you control where you go; you can steer]