I'm slightly worried about this coming weekend. I graduate on Sunday, and the relations between some of the folks that will be there are rather strained. Dad doesn't like Kurt, and my stepmother abhors my mother. I think it's just a result of second-wife syndrome, and I wish she'd grow up already. If Dad wanted to be with Momma, he wouldn't have signed the divorce papers TWENTY YEARS AGO!! Sheesh. The woman's been married to Dad for almost sixteen years; you'd think she'd be a bit more secure than that. But that's my stepmom for you.
Plus I can't figure out the whole issue of the hood that we're to wear with our gowns. They should issue us a set of instructions with these damn things. I think I know how it goes, but I also think you need someone to arrange it for you while you're wearing it. Good thing my mother's good at that sort of thing. And I have to wangle her into ironing my gown. She did it for my high school graduation -- gotta go with the tradition!! :o)
So now I'm all set for graduation. All the little minor issues have been resolved. But I need a new pair of shoes (Walmart) and a haircut (Walmart again). I don't really want to go to Walmart to get my hair cut because I don't really trust the people there, but the guy who usually cuts my hair is in Italy again, I think. Every time I call I get his answering machine. But something HAS to be done. I got really pissed today because my hair doesn't want to DO anything. That's why I envy my roommate -- she just sticks hair ornaments in her curls and walks out the door. Grrr. So lucky.
The funny thing is I'm not really lonely. I thought I would be, but I'm not. I suppose it's because I've lived around so many people for so long. It's not that I'm glad to be rid of them -- I do miss them and I've enjoyed living with them, but it's nice just to be alone and vegetate. That's the major issue I had when I was in Kenya in 1996. I went with my church at the time to do some mission work, and there were twenty-two of us that went to a small town, Kibwezi, to live in tents on the grounds of a polytechnic school and help out. Twenty-four hours a day I was around people. For a month. I shared a tent with two other girls, a four-man tent, which isn't large enough for three girls and their gear for a month. We couldn't take much with us because we were limited to two suitcases apiece, but "four-man" is the capacity of the tent without the gear for those four people. So we had no room. Every time I went into the tent, one of them was there. And we were just always with someone -- for safety reasons if we left the school. In the bush, we could get bitten by something, and in the town something could happen. Plus we were surrounded by probably two hundred students, not to mention all the teachers and church staff. We woke up each morning to the girls starting their 5am worship service and fell asleep curled up with one another to the chattering of the monkeys in the garbage heap. So when it was my job to drive the van home when we returned to the States by myself, it felt so weird to be alone. I didn't even turn the radio on; I just enjoyed the silence.
Try it someday... sometimes it's all your soul really needs.