Quarter Life or Thereabouts

Shortly after I started dating him, I spent an entire Saturday with my first boyfriend at his house. It was a good day; he made me spaghetti, my favorite meal, minus the mushrooms because I didn't like them. That was one of the first days I ever shot off fireworks other than sparklers, and we just talked, and it felt nice to be able to do so. At that point, we had only been dating for about a month and a half, and because he lived so far away, things were still pretty new. He lived in a pretty small town, and so the two of us and his little sister drove over to the next town to get fireworks. We picked out the firework pack we wanted, paid for it, and we made our way to the nearest gas station to grab something to eat.

He finally mustered up the courage to take my hand as we were walking around. He dropped it, however, as soon as his sister screeched, "Ew, you guys are holding hands?!" and he didn't try holding my hand again for the rest of the day.

I've been watching a lot of The Office in the last three weeks. One of the last episodes I finished was the one where Phyllis and Bob Vance get married. It was a great episode. I was happy for Phyllis. Michael drove me nuts, as per usual. I was appalled at his actions.* I would be absolutely mortified if anyone acted that way at my wedding.

Things have seemingly become more domestic over the last year. My friends' Facebook posts have fallen into this category, ranging from wedding plans to baby announcements and the like. Even watching shows like The Office and Ugly Betty over the last few weeks has been eerily reflective of the job search as I've waited to hear back from potential employers. These things aren't bad. I'm thankful for them--I'm just not yet used to how grown-up everything seems all of a sudden.

I think about that spaghetti Saturday every once and awhile. The thing that taints it is, of course, the ex's reaction when his sister saw us holding hands. At the time, I was embarrassed, too. I thought that maybe things were always like that at the beginning of a relationship. We'd only been dating for just over a month, after all. I felt ashamed for wanting to hold his hand. And it was such a beautiful day, too.

What I realize now, many years later, is that it was stupid for him to react that way. I was hurt, though I didn't want to admit it at the time. The memory leaves a bad taste in my mouth; there was so much I didn't realize at the time that was wrong with the situation and, ultimately, the relationship. It was good that it ended, because the weirdness didn't end there.

One of my best friends, Amanda, is getting married next year, as is my good friend Nicole. I'm excited to be there to be a part of both of their special days.

I don't know if I'll ever have the opportunity to get married, and to be honest, I've never thought much about it. I mean, I have, but not to the same degree you'd expect of a young woman in her twenties. There are few things I'm absolutely sure of, regarding little details of what right now seems like something distant. When I told Amanda that I wanted this song** as part of my ceremony, her face lit up and I knew her excitement was due to the fact I haven't really talked about stuff like this very often; I'm usually pretty quiet/negative about it. But, I knew that if I ever get married, that was the very song I'd want to play. It says everything I could never be able to express.

I have a lot of feelings about it all, and I don't talk about it much. I know that I don't want a Michael Scott there to ruin anything about it, because I know exactly how I'd feel about my wedding day. It's too important, and too precious.



*As annoying as he can be, however, he's such a brilliant character. I can't help but simultaneously love and hate him.

**Here's the original.

Moments

When I was a junior in high school, we had an assignment in English class that required us to find a song that best represented any of the ideas of Transcendentalism. After going through all my CDs, I finally decided on "Parklife" by Blur, which to me best represented connecting to nature.* Jackie, one of my classmates, picked a song called "I Woke Up In A Car" by Something Corporate. I was so caught up in it, I had to ask her what the artist was and wrote it down in a margin in my notebook.

The song is really good. Some people might write it off as being too "emo" or [insert complaint here]. But honestly? It's a solid, well-written, well-produced track off of a strong album. I get annoyed with really particular classifications when it comes to music; music is far too diverse to allow for any accurate placement. Some songs pull from too many directions, and I really, really hate it when people use a song's "classification" as a reason against it, as if it's not worthy of our time because it falls into a certain category. But I digress.

I didn't get a copy of the song until shortly after my high school graduation, and since then I've listened to it over and over, repeating it on mixes and getting lost within its lyrics and musicianship and pure awesomeness.

I've been up and down over the last week. I've been trying to find ways of cheering myself up; I read Lola and the Boy Next Door over the weekend, and while I was cheered up reading it (because it's so, so good), I still cried at the end because it affected me so. I finished This Full House and loved it, but also cried at the end for different but related reasons. Work, as usual, provides me five hours daily to mull everything over. And over. And over. It's rough being inside one's head for too long. I was driving myself crazy. I hate finding myself in a funk; I have such a hard time pulling myself out of it.

"I Woke Up In A Car" came up on my iPod earlier tonight at work, and it must have hit me at just the right moment. The song talks about the joys of embracing the unknown, of finding peace with oneself in the moment. I don't know if I could survive without some kind of structure, but I like the idea of allowing myself liberation in the moment. I was reminded that the funk will lift.** The next couple years will be interesting, and will likely allow me these moments. And I'm so ready for them.

So, all in all, I'm not feeling 100% better. (I need Earl Grey.) But I am feeling marginally better.


*I remember obnoxiously singing along with it in class; if anyone reading this now happened to be in that hour, my apologies. I don't think I understood the difference between socially okay and socially obnoxious.

**I hate how sappy this sounds. *sigh*

The Terrible Tuesdays

I actually really like Tuesdays this semester; I have my drawing and BFA exhibition classes, and I have time to work on stuff without having to worry about waking up at the crack of dawn to get ready for work.

But today is not a good day. After a weekend of work combined with meetings combined with fitting in drawing whenever I could and trying to finish a slow moving first draft of the first of three short stories for my writing class this semester, I woke up with a bad feeling. It was doom, or some sense of it.

I don't know if it's the prospect of Valentine's Day next week, or the fact I won't be able to visit my parents over the weekend like I'd hoped (my birthday is Saturday). It might be both these things plus my stressing over waiting for a studio space plus the paper I should have gotten about four weeks ago. And the fact that I set up my BFA show on Easter Sunday. I try not to look at it in the sense that everything is working against me this semester, but it's really hard not to.

All I know is that when this song came on my iPod, closely followed by this one, I really had to try not to start bawling my eyes out. I hate getting overly emotional about stuff; I can hardly stand being around myself. It's like my rational side puts up with the comforting one for only so long, and then all I want to do is tell myself to get a grip and then just walk away and get a cup of Earl Grey to calm my nerves.

Perhaps I should try doing just that. Hmm.

P.S. - "Slow Me Down" by Emmy Rossum, for your Tuesday.

Happy Christmas (early)

We're leaving for my grandparents' house tomorrow afternoon, and I'm not sure if I'll have internet access while we're there over the weekend, so here's a little note of Christmas tidings while I still have the opportunity. I've been relaxing a lot over the last week, spending time with my sister, knitting (rather poorly, I might add), watching a lot of movies, and sleeping. I've tried to give myself a general break from everything. I'll post more once we're back after the weekend is up. It's been nice to just be for awhile, but I know I have to get back on track soon because of my ever-growing list of things to do during the break....

Christmas is my favorite holiday. I love the joy, I love the love that seems to travel around, I love the music, and I love the tradition (and non-tradition) of it all. I especially love the story of the Nativity, and how simple and complex and wondrous it is. And the angels! Nearly everything about Christmas is special to me. I also love how Christmas takes place around the time of Hanukkah and Kwanzaa and New Years. Happy Holidays indeed.

I have a lot of really good memories that I associate with this time of year, and all of them--good and bad--mean a lot to me one way or another. My favorite Christmas movies include the Charlie Brown Christmas special (anyone catch the reference in Glee's Christmas episode last week? So awesome.), It's A Wonderful Life, and White Christmas. I tend to associate Harry Potter with Christmas--even though it is appropriate any time of the year, there's just something about it around Christmas that makes it seem extra special. I love the memories I have of being up at my grandparents' house, because the experience itself is so much what Christmas has become for me. It doesn't totally feel like Christmas to me when we're not there. I mean, I know that things will change--and have already changed--but the feeling, the joy, I think, will remain the same.

Merry Christmas, Happy Hanukkah, and Happy Kwanzaa. Whatever it is that you do to celebrate these wintery months, much love and joyous tidings to you and your family.

Gratitude

This may be a little cliche to do, but I think there's something really special (and important) in celebrating the things that make us happy, healthy, and safe. It is Thanksgiving, after all. (Though, as my friend Melissa pointed out on Facebook this morning, we should be thankful everyday rather than saving it for one day a year.) Thus.

I'm thankful for my family. They mean so much to me, and I am truly blessed. When I am home, it is for them.

I am thankful for my sister's sense of humor. She knows exactly what to say to make things not so bad. She and I have the same kind of sense of humor. I am also thankful that she laughs at my jokes, because I know I'm not that funny.

I am thankful for God's love in many ways.

I am thankful for books and art. What kind of a person would I be without them?

I am thankful that my health has been good.

I am thankful for my open-mindedness.

I am thankful for Coca-Cola, Milky Way bars, Arby's/Hardees curly fries, and Cranberry Limeades.

I am thankful for the opportunities I've had in my life to travel. They have been few, but worthwhile all the same.

I am thankful for The Westing Game, Harriet the Spy, and the many Nancy Drew mysteries I read in elementary school, because they helped me to appreciate a good mystery.

I am thankful for the ability to drive around the Little Apple without being too nervous. I haven't quite overcome my fear of driving completely, but I'm getting there.

I am thankful for Oldies and 60s British Invasion rock 'n' roll. But mostly I'm thankful for my dad's excellent taste in music. I couldn't have asked for a better kind of music to grow up with.

Though it has been hard, and not to mention emotionally taxing, I am thankful that the drought of any romance in my life has allowed me to seriously consider what I'd like in a relationship and understand my stance on many things.

I am thankful for my mother and her perseverance, creativity, and compassion. I learn more and more from her everyday.

I am thankful for the things I have learned from our trips to Michigan, and most especially the memories they left with me. It has been a long time since my grandparents (my dad's parents) passed away, but I think of them almost every single day.

I am thankful for the tradition and love from my mom's side of the family. My grandparents have been married 60 years, and they are the heart of my mom's large family. I feel very blessed to be a part of it.

I am thankful that I decided to pick up and read Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone in sixth grade.

I am thankful for writing and the joy I get from it. The power of the story is kind of awesome. And, in a way, it kind of saved my life.

I'm thankful for college. It is one of the best things that have happened to me. I have learned so much and in so many different ways, and I have changed so much from the person I was five years ago. I feel like I'm finally me.

I'm thankful for authentic Mexican food and authentic Indian food. I am also thankful for my grandmother's spaghetti, my mom's pasty, and cheesecake.

I am thankful for Glee, Star Wars, and the Georgia Nicolson series.

I am thankful that John Keats (and all related British Romantic poets), W.B. Yeats, William Shakespeare, Emily Dickinson, Walt Whitman, Jane Austen, Sarah Dessen, John Green, Maureen Johnson, and J.K. Rowling all decided to write stuff down.

I am thankful for movies. I am also thankful for movie theaters (though not the raising ticket prices). I am especially thankful for Steven Spielberg and Focus Features.

I am thankful for 80s music and 80s movies.

I am thankful for music and concerts. Especially the trip I took with Brandi and Cassie last year to Kansas City, where we went to Warped Tour and then Lady Gaga's Monster Ball within the course of 48 hours. It was incredible.

I am thankful for my friends. My friendships have, and always will be, extremely important to me. I love my friends dearly. I'm very blessed.

There will always be things to be thankful for, and this list certainly doesn't cover everything. Happy Thanksgiving.

A Two-Parter Ramble

I'm going to borrow a segue technique from John and Hank Green, the Vlogbrothers, who happen to be my favorite YouTube people (and the only ones I regularly watch). So, without further ado, this post comes in two parts.

Part One: Being Home


Last weekend was the first weekend since June that I was able to spend more than just 24 hours with my family. Heidi and I coordinated our visit so we'd have a weekend where all four of us (Heidi, Mom, Dad, and I) were in the same house. It was far too short of a weekend.

I'll be honest: I did not get a lot of homework done when I was home. For some reason, my motivation shuts off whenever I'm there, as if every visit is a vacation for me. The only thing I actually accomplished was watching online lectures for Art History, which I made my sister watch with me. She spent the entirety of them playing with Naomi, one of our cats, and playing on the Facebook Sims.

Regardless, the weekend was wonderful. Heidi and I watched a TON of movies:

• Wild Target, with Bill Nighy, Emily Blunt, and Rupert Grint. This movie is HILARIOUS. There's just something magical about British comedy that American comedy has a hard time living up to for me. Perhaps that's too cruel for me to say, but I really believe that. Now I just need to hunt down a copy for myself....
• Take Me Home Tonight with Topher Grace, Anna Faris, and Teresa Palmer. The movie was pretty funny, and I liked the touches of '80s culture included. Two things, though: first, I'm not a big fan of Dan Fogler (see above for a watered-down version of my thoughts on American comedy). Second, while I really appreciate what the movie's simple plot was trying to accomplish, I felt that Adventureland, which focuses on a similar kind of post-college state of wandering, was much more successful--and thorough in the journey of the protagonist--in conveying it. The holes in characters and the plot irritated me to no end. Overall, though, it was fun. I thought Topher Grace and Anna Faris topped themselves. 
• Jane Eyre, with Mia Wasikowska and Michael Fassbender. LOVE. I would cross oceans for this movie. No joke. 
• Crazy, Stupid, Love., with Steve Carrell and Julianne Moore. There were plenty of romantic comedy cliches, cheesy writing, and an almost completely predictable outcome for the characters. It was, however, very funny, and surprising at times. I loved Robbie, the son ("I love you. Please."); Jessica, the babysitter (her characterization/subplot was amazing); Hannah and Jacob's relationship (so funny and so tender, and it helps that I love both Emma Stone and Ryan Gosling). Little surprises all around. Plus, Josh Groban makes an appearance. 

The four of us took a mini-daytrip to Beatrice, where we scoured the $5 bin at Wal-Mart and returned with a large stack of bargain CDs between us. I met up with Maggie on Sunday for dinner to catch up with her and Emi, who's eyes are still as big and happy as they were when I saw her last at the end of May. She is adorable and I feel incredibly proud to be her godmother. Meanwhile, I joked around and talked music with Dad, spent time with Mom, filling her in on classes and such. Heidi and I cruised twice around town, blaring music from our iPods and pouring out our hearts about the things in our lives that were simultaneously important and heartbreaking in some form or another. There's something incredibly therapeutic about sharing this with my sister. I remember when Dad and his brother Rod would go cruising when we were little; there was a reason we were never allowed to join them--that was their time to share. Nothing but music, conversation, and honest heart-pouring. Those moments are special to me, more than I can put into words.

Part Two: Two Concerns and Many Feelings


First, I grow more and more wary of the future each day. I have no idea where I'll be at this time next year (and I feel the time swiftly slipping away from me). I do want to go to graduate school, but call it laziness or being too busy, I haven't looked into anything yet. There are so many feelings that I can't yet articulate, and I know I just have to push them and the worry aside and get the ball rolling so I don't waste any time. I know it will work out in the end. I mean, I do have time, and there are a few other things I've put on my educational bucket list (more travel, a writing fellowship, etc.) that are also on the timeline. I just need to sit down, make lists, prepare applications, take the GRE, and write.


Second, I noticed something when I was at dinner with Maggie on Sunday, and it's been hanging over my head since then, amplified from what it was before. I don't remember the exact train of our conversation or what prompted me to say it, but at one point, I made an off-hand comment that was along the lines of, "Well, if and when I ever get married and have kids..." Maggie, who was in the process of trying to keep Emi occupied (she was being fussy), laughed a little and looked up at me.

"You never know; if [so-and-so] got married, anyone can." Or something like that.

I feel like sometimes I let my cynicism about marriage get out of hand. No matter how hard I try to remain neutral concerning me and marriage, I feel like I always sound so bitter about it, as if I bring it up just so I can beat it to death over and over again, which is not my intention at all. It's not that I don't believe in it--because I really, really do--but part of me honestly feels like I won't ever get married, that God does not mean me to be.

Amanda gets really mad at me when I start talking like this. "God meant for you to be a mother," she says, speaking with a firm tone and looking me directly in the eye. "You have to have confidence in yourself. He has someone for you." My argument (which I feel is just as sound) is that maybe God does not have this planned for me, that I'm meant for something different. So, shouldn't I have trust that He knows what's best for me? Everything happens for a reason.

Thing is, I haven't dated in over four years. Most people my age are at a point where they are settling down. Facebook seems to magnify a pressure that doesn't really exist that I am desperately behind the times. I'm not socially comfortable enough to be able to use whatever "flirting protocol" is required to date, and of the two guys I had some sort of more-than-friends-type feelings for, one flat-out told me he'd never date me because I reminded him too much of his ex, and the other was only at K-State for a semester and I never understood what was going on with my relationship with him, anyway. When I go out to the bars with friends, I'm the one who stands just off to the side watching as my friends get hit on and the guys in question giving me that "Who are you?" look in the few times they break eye-contact with the object of their affection.

The last time I talked with Nate about dating, he suggested online dating sites. I shot down that idea almost immediately.

My ex-boyfriend (the only one I've had) told me four years ago that I was "too perfect." I'm still not sure what that had to do with our relationship and why we ended up in the mess we did.

My heart is much too invested in this complicated thing I've found myself in. And I have to understand that in no way am I supposed to find someone at this very moment; I have all the time in the world, if that is indeed what I'm meant to have in my life. Brandi, bless her heart, encourages me to embrace my single status (as, we joke, Jason Derulo does in the song). And I try. As I try to gain and maintain the confidence Amanda has urged me to find. Sometimes, though, the feelings get too heavy. I just wish things made more sense, sometimes. I can't spend the rest of my life dwelling on these things, you know?

So when my bitterness seemed to creep into my conversation with Maggie on Sunday, I felt awful that I ruined the mood of the conversation. I did not want her to think I was rude, or against anything related to it. It was just me, feeling too much, getting caught up in them and letting some slip away, becoming entangled in it.

Before I Dive Back Into Essay-Writing Classwork....

...one more thing about Klaine. Behold, the final skit from Glee Live 2011. (Also, this better quality video of the same skit.)

After crowns and fuzzy hats and marriage proposals and bridges and leprechauns and commemorative plates and all of the other bits of cleverness and wit that have come about from every single version of it, this.

Some people probably wouldn't totally understand what Glee itself is and what it represents, and definitely not how attached fans get to Kurt and Blaine's relationship (not that that's a bad thing; to each his/her own). And for those who love the show (and the relationship as well), it varies due to how they take it. For me, the show means a lot of different things (many of which I will talk about at length another time), and some of them are hard for me to explain because they're so complex.

The thing with Kurt and Blaine for me, however, is not just because Kurt is my favorite character--though that was part of what it started from. There was something there from the moment that the two meet that connected them to one another. I am strictly what the internet knows as a "Kurt/Happiness" shipper, so I was most concerned with Kurt finding someone that would provide him the happiness he deserves. So I was glad that Kurt had found a mentor, confidant, and friend in Blaine; and if it turned out that they would ultimately remain friends, I was okay with that. But as time when on, however, the relationship started growing and building up from this strong camaraderie they share. And unlike some other couples on the show*, the development (including the character development for both of them!) took its time, so that by the time we got to "Original Song", their admiration--and that kiss--was whole-heartedly deserved. (There are some other really important things that tie/lead into this moment, but that's for another post.)

And then there's the fact that Kurt and Blaine mean so much to so many people, and the characters themselves are brilliantly written (i.e. while they have their good moments, they are also flawed, which is fabulous and makes them seem so much better for one another) and are portrayed positively. Seeing that moment when it finally clicks in Blaine's head, and then later, when he is honest with Kurt about his feelings? Powerful, so beyond so, even. I see what they have as on par with the kind of relationship that Finn and Rachel have--though there are some significant differences, they're relationship feels like it will last a helluvah lot longer than a couple of episodes.

I guess one of the things I love so very much about this skit is that reflects that dynamic that they have on the show--as the other versions of the skit have. There's the genius of Chris Colfer**, once again, with that heartfelt reading of the beautiful, hysterical, clever poem (and I second the motion about those who call Kurt a stereotype, because while there may be a few elements that seem like a stereotype, the character most certainly is not). And then there's Darren Criss' response, which is wonderful as always. And Kurt's reaction, where he seems to float a little, then collapses in bliss, is both hilarious and wonderful. I'd imagine that that's what love does to a person, you know? It catches you off guard, then carries you off.

And though my main concern is still that Kurt is happy--I want him to be happy with whoever he ends up with, whether it would be Blaine or not--and that if he and Blaine are not meant by the power of the writers to remain together, I think I might be a little bummed if they break up. Because, you know, there'd have to be a good reason for it and they'd have to prove to me that anyone else is worthy of Kurt. He and Blaine just seem to fit each other.

And now I'm off to finish up this class. I am easily distracted...

*coughQuinn&Samcough

**Seriously though. Chris Colfer is awesome. He's clever, he's intelligent, he's witty, he's a brilliant actor, and so talented. He is the king of cool points as far as I'm concerned.

School Supplies and "You've Got Mail"

Quotage:

Don't you love New York in the fall? Makes me want to buy school supplies. I would send you a bouquet of newly-sharpened pencils if I knew your name and address. (from the beginning of You've Got Mail)

For my 21st birthday, I received precisely two gifts from my sister (or, at least, I think it was just two; I could be forgetting one). One was a fantasy-themed trashy romance novel (of which I have not gotten past page two to this day, and my 21st was a considerable time ago), in response to an ongoing inside joke we have. The other was a beautiful bouquet of newly-sharpened pencils. And it was one of the best gifts I've ever been given.

I adore You've Got Mail. It was released when I was in elementary school, and Mom fell in love with it, and like dominoes, my sister and I fell for it too. I remember standing in line for lunch one day, talking to Jeremy, a classmate, who had started talking about something related to The Godfather. After he was done talking, I looked at him and said, without a trace of silliness, "What is it with men and 'The Godfather'?" That's what the movie meant to me.

As the years have gone on, I've grown to appreciate it for more and very different reasons. It's not just that I can understand and fully appreciate the 'adultishness' of it now, but what understanding of it I had transcended itself naturally as I grew. The movie was put out at a time when the internet was just beginning to take hold. There's Frank, with his three typewriters, who is yet distrustful of computers and what they have to offer. The common form of social networking was strictly chat rooms and email. The depiction of New York City is lovely; whenever I get to visit NYC, I hope it to be as magical and bustling as what I've watched over and over on screen. And I have to visit it in the fall. That is a must--at least for the first time, anyway.

The moments of beauty that one might miss, like Kathleen talking about twirling, the butterfly on the subway, the emotion and the honesty of each of the exchanged emails, the arrangement of Joe's family, Joe's time spent in a broken elevator, the shot of Kathleen preparing to go to the mattresses, the caviar garnish, twinkle-lights, the music...it almost comes to a point where there are so many things with which I'm overcome with adoration that I lose my words.

And then there's the bookishness of it all. References to Betsy and Tacy, Ballet Shoes, and Pride and Prejudice...and don't even get me started on The Shop Around the Corner.

My personal bouquet of newly-sharpened pencils currently sits on my desk under my bulletin board. As pictured above, it's framed by two illustrations Heidi gave me from her sketchbook and the Macbeth finger puppets I bought in Stratford-Upon-Avon. The gift itself may seem strange to some people, and I get that: who are you to just sharpen pencils and never use them? That's such a waste.

It's something deeper than that, though. It's the magic of Kathleen's and Joe's relationship, the way it's constructed, the purity of it, the fact that words themselves are the energy driving their lives, both literally and figuratively. The simple things, the beauty of the idea. The creation from something so everyday. Little things that tie people together, whether it be a story of a butterfly on the subway, or the daily endeavors of one Brinkley.

But also, and most importantly, the gift surpasses the meaning the movie has for me. I look at it daily and think of my sister: our shared love for the movie, our mutual adoration for the idea of a bouquet made entirely of school supplies. Our childhood and the memories which we share and differ. Sisterly love and understanding. A bond. In a way, she gave me a piece of us, as cliche as that sounds. That bouquet will always represent that for me. And it will always be just in sight, the first thing I see in the morning, the last thing I see before I sleep.

Decoding a Secret Note from Long Ago...

Yesterday when I got up (I'm at home for the weekend to visit my family), I came downstairs and was almost immediately called into the kitchen. Mom and Heidi were looking at me with almost identical amused expressions.

"So guess what we found underneath the water tank?" Heidi asked. 

"It's very 'privat'," Mom added, "and it's addressed to you."

The first thing I thought of was Harry Potter because the way she pronounced 'privat' sounded like 'Privet'. I didn't know what to say, and looked back and forth between them. "What are you talking about?" I asked after a moment, baffled. 

Heidi then handed me a folded up piece of notebook paper, one that was slightly battered with a couple tea stains and the words: "Privat dont read" written in pencil on the outside. 

Before I read it aloud to Mom and Heidi, I glanced over it to reacquaint myself with its contents. As soon as I read the first line, I knew exactly what it was. This is what it said (spellings, grammar, etc. have been retained from the original): 

Dear Heather,

I was thinking and I Guess I Do like you, and well will you Go out with me? and about the butterfly hair hair clips I think you should Decide if you look better with them on or off. if you dont want to be my Girlfriend thats fine. and I think your cute too. Well if you want to Reply to this the sign it and put a yes or no beside your name.

Sincerely, Charlie

Mom, Heidi, and I laughed about it after I finished, but it got me thinking. My apparent vanity the note admitted to aside, if you would have asked me two days ago, I would have told you that there was no way I'd received a "yes/no" note in elementary school. Cue yesterday, when I realized how naive I'd been. Who was I kidding? Of course I'd gotten one; I would not remember EVERYTHING that had happened in school. As for the information gathered from reading this ancient note, I knew that I was in fifth grade when I'd received it (the mention of butterfly clips, which were all the rage at that point). I remembered the events that lead up to it. This boy was new at the time and I had a crush on him, and then proceeded to tell everyone at Girl Scouts about my feelings. Within a few days he knew that I liked him because it's the general tendency to pass on the information to everyone else in the fifth grade. I must have either written him a note or talked to him at recess to clarify information, and then he responded with this.

I don't think I "dated" him. I had had a couple of "secret boyfriends" after this note, but the sender was never either of them and since I was not allowed to truly date until I was 16, the two relationships in question never got any further than notes passed in class or exchanged tokens or one or two slow dances in seventh grade. I suppose my main concern after reading it yesterday was that I couldn't remember everything surrounding it. What else was going on? The note holds some sort of context long forgotten, weighing it down to a point from which I cannot retrieve it. And was he truly interested in being my boyfriend? Probably not, but at that age, it may be more of the idea of being closer with the people you fancy or the idea itself of having a significant others that drives kids to ask yes or no. It is the nearing the line between cooties of grade school and the hormones of the teenage years, where sexual experimentation reigns king and love gets complicated.

I haven't been in a relationship in four years, but in that time I've thought a lot about it. I know know that it's more than just "thinking someone's cute" (though I appreciate what the note had to say). There are also many kinds of love, and the kind of love that the note addresses is much different than the kind of love people my age search for. As we grow older, our understanding of the world becomes both clearer and much more complex. I fear that sometimes we forget that love is that complicated, and therefore what we think is forever reveals itself to be only temporary. I know that I've only felt that "strongly" about one person ever, and I never even dated him--and even then I still am not sure what our friendship entailed or if what I felt was truly this kind of love. It is different than the kind of love I have for my parents, my sister, my family, or my friends. I see the kind of love my friends and peers have with their significant others, the love that's declared daily on Facebook, both for newlyweds and babies. Everyday it seems more and more complicated. And when we toss around the word "love" like a frisbee, do we fully comprehend how what we say relates to what it is we're actually feeling?