what if i’m not actually in love with you… i know it sounds ridiculous but what if we’re both just busy with disillusionment? maybe my scared little heart just wonders why this can’t be easier?

i’m just so unsure.  Girl meets boy.

Lots on the mind these days.  I used to think with my brain and now my heart’s rattling for some attention.  I wish the heart would go away because I was getting along just fine.  I wish people were more honest or maybe what I’m after is recklessness.  I seem to be wishing a lot.  Somedays I feel like I’m sailing in a kayak in the middle of the ocean.  Somedays the current is smoother than others.

Not being able to draw causes me all sorts of problems.  Most of them relate to ill perceptions of myself.  I feel like since I can’t draw there are strong judgments against my observational skills.  Not being able to draw seems to say, “I do not see the truth”.  This sucks.  Not being able to draw makes me feel like I’m not a ‘real’ artist.  I feel like I don’t actually need to know how to draw because when I work things out in my head I seem them as a photograph or as a complete image… maybe not a photograph per se but communicating through words instead of ill-fated line drawings suits me just fine.  I feel like drawing takes too long and when

I do it quickly the results are the same as when I do it fast.  Teachers don’t appreciate my speed.  I also eat fast and drink slow, people don’t like that either.  I’m always trying to find my way out of drawing.  I’d rather do sit ups than draw.  And I hate exercise nearly as much as I hate drawing… or maybe I hate them both the same.  I’ve never really thought about it until now.  Can you imagine if I had to draw while exercising?  That would be the worse!  I am currently trying to draw with caulking as a medium.  That was a bad idea.

I am full of them.

The map!  Aaha!  I haven’t a clue what I’m actually to be doing right now.  I feel as though my teacher has explained what we are to be accomplishing 100 times.  I imagine that everyone is actually writing the same malarkey that I am writing now; just trying to stay busy and not look like an idiot.  Where is my old ECS teacher?  The one who reads us poetry and want to talk about art.  Maybe she looked up Sophie Calle and Vanessa Beecroft like I suggested and has decided to escape this place once and for all.  Maybe I’m just being romantic in my thoughts.  Ha! Ha!  I was going to write some cheese remark about being romantic but I can’t bring myself to do it.  I am on the verge of laughing and am trying to suppress a smile without much success.  Maybe my teacher things I’m enjoying this assignment since I am starring at the photocopied hand out with a grin.  I just paused for a minute to look deep in thought.  I may be fooling them all.  If I was the teacher and some broad was doing all of this writing instead of writing about a map I’d be thrilled.  I may have also just put that sentence in there as a disclaimer in case I get caught.  I wish I had my phone.  I plugged it in to charge at the front of the class.  I have no one to call but at least I could push the buttons.  I think I’m going to clean out my bag.  There’s a paper I need for after class.  This might be a bad idea since I am the only student in my row and I am sitting at the front of the class.  Oh wait – presentations of what we’ve written.  Is this really English class?? Railways, coal mining, Japan, educational system – where am I?  I just signed the attendance sheet – yup!  This is English.  Fine, time to clean out my bag.

Funny enough maybe but where this story kills me is when my teacher asked me to stand up and read what I had written.  I told her “no” several times.  She continued to insist.  I then said “I will not!” This did not go over well and she dropped it.  The other students were shocked by my unwillingness to participate.  If I thought the woman had a sense of humour I may have gone ahead with this reading.  I’m not certain it would have been in my best interest.  I told my roommates about it when I came home.  They all agree that I should have read it and that I was thoroughly communicating in English and that is the point of the class.  They are still laughing.

Incase you didn’t notice I thought I’d just remind you as to how thankful I am these days.  That smile that won’t leave my face should have been a clear indicator however should it be mistaken for all the times I lied I just wanted to be sure that we were on the same page.  What a day!  What a week!  It’s amazing how my life changes so dramatically when one is away.  Who are all of these beautiful amazing people whipping past me as though on some futuristic Jetson type trail?  Yes.  India is all that one could hope for!

Yesterday I went to Jai Hind College to meet well… everyone.  I felt nothing short of royalty.  I felt honored, privileged and like much is to be expected from me.  I don’t think I’m intimidated yet because everything in my life is new and I don’t have time for petty thoughts that may try to drag me down.  I met about 1000 people and can’t pronounce let alone remember any of their names… that’s not true -I remember Reema and Keyur.  I was nothing short of catered to.  I was taken here to do this and that.  Everyone was very excited to meet me and in return so was I.  I am tickled pink about the possibilities that lie ahead.  It appears that school is sorted for the most part.  I have my class schedule – Monday to Friday 8:30 until 1pm everyday.  I do have breaks in there from time to time but for the most part that’s going to be my morning.  I may or may not also have a few classes Saturday morning but I believe that I am off for the first week.  The entire school also has “Recess” from 10:30-10:45am.  I am uncertain as to how I feel about my break being called a “recess” when I am 31 years old.  I have also been asked to attend endless school events and activities.  I am simultaneously exhausted and invigorated by this.

Yesterday like I indirectly stated, I met Keyur.  I had been in contact with him via email prior to coming to India.  He is a former Jai Hind student who has just finished his Masters.  He studied at Western for a term and loves Canada and all that it encompasses (including the snow) perhaps more than I do.  When I met him my Karma meter must have been cashed in because I am that lucky!!!  He has been my saving grace!!  On my behalf he has spent more time that I’d care to think about trying to find accommodations for me.  All afternoon he took me out with an agent (whom he arranged) and looked at guest rooms with me.  He was critical and forthright.  Meeting Keyur was like meeting an old friend.  During one of our many excited and scattered conversations dans le taxi, I happened to tell him that there will never be another December 30, 2009 ever… not ever but…EVER.  I feel kind of bad about this but it’s not my idea – it is what it is.  Regardless of that mind fuck for him there is comfort in the ability to discuss family, school, poverty, global warming, business, art, and our personal hopes and aspirations with someone you just had coffee with.  There is a chain coffee shop in Mumbai and yesterday while I was out discovering my new world I took a photo of their sign which read “a lot can happen over a coffee”.  I had no idea that that sitcom(ish) line would have such direction correlation to my life 24 hours after the fact.

My doctor comes to the waiting room.  He is pleased to see me.  He smiles like he’s not supposed to smile.  He asks me the same question he always asks when I see him.  ”How are you?”  I tell him I am fine.  He asks again, incase I want to change my mind before the door closes? Ha.  Turns out the last time I saw him was March 6.  That was a long time ago.  He says that last time I saw him I was off and on… both in mental stability and pharmaceutically.  He asks me how things have been.  I tell him.  Things have been wonderful.  They really have.  I had the most amazing summer since… since I was like… actually… maybe EVER! I’m not so enthusiastic in my answer as I am here but I am honest.  I tell him that I feel great.  I still have problems and difficulties.  I cry a bit.  It’s okay.  We talk about work, family, friends.  We talked about people and places in the past and their influence on me now.  My doctor and I are much happier about these subjects now.  I say sarcastic things about myself – partly because I believe them – but more so to be funny.  This man knows no humor.  He tells me that I am a wonderful person and that I have always deserved much better.  I know that he means this.  He wouldn’t have said it unless he did.  We also discuss how some things don’t change… like how I do too much.  We both know that this is a coping mechanism, that sometimes doesn’t work but for the most part its successful.  I cry a few more times.  I am safe.  I release.  And I am fine.  I am just fine.

Last night my friend had said how she was lonely and wanted a boyfriend for the winter.  I thought it was nonsense.  She is lovely and smart and independent and well actually, quite brilliant.  What does she need an ol’ man hanging around her neck for?  I told her that I would be her boyfriend which thankfully didn’t meet her requirements so to speak.  The idea of loneliness and companionship seemed like far and removed ideas to me last night even in the wee of the hours.  Today – or rather tonight – not so distant needy notions.  Maybe it has to do with an email I received from you know who.  It was about him wanting to get together but not having the time or what have you, for me right now.  Essentially… it was just more rejection.  I am more mad at myself about not being able to step aside.  I am a terrible person.  I really am.  And I am more terrible to myself than anything else and I don’t know how to stop.  It turns out that there is no pill and talking seems to make it worse.  Maybe being busy is the answer.  Maybe moving to the other side of the world will provide me with the clarity I need to maintain some sort of normalcy.  I feel like all I do is nag on and nag about the same old thing on this blog but you know what…?  it is an accurate reflection of my insecure pathetic awkward self.  This is where I vent and decompress.  Thankfully it has been less frequently but I did make an appointment with my psychiatrist who I will see  few weeks from now.  That’ll be a story no doubt.