anne's chit chat

Time is running out. My money is running out.

I search and search for jobs. I search and search for apartments.

I am moving in less than two weeks.

And then there is my resume.
Is it too long?
Does it make sense?
Is the format weird?

I want a job that inspires me. I want to be proud of where I work.
Does this exist?
Can I find a job?

I am afraid this having a summer like we did in second grade is slowly coming to an end.

Help!

Last Saturday my good friends Jeanette and Shawn got married. This Saturday my friends Gina and Rich got married. Both amazing couples and both incredibily fun celebrations. Meghan (who happens to be Gina’s sister!) and I read a passage from Gift From The Sea by Anne Morrow Lindbergh at Jeanette and Shawn’s wedding. I took the picture below of Gina on her wedding day.

For marriage, which is always spoken of as a bond, becomes actually, many bonds, many strands, of different texture and strength, making up a web that is taut and firm. The web is fashioned of love. Yes, but many kinds of love: romantic love first, then a slow-growing devotion and, playing through these, a constantly rippling companionship. It is made of loyalties, and interdependencies, and shared experiences. It is woven of memories of meetings and conflicts; of triumphs and disappointments. It is a web of communication, a common language, and the acceptance of lack of language, too; a knowledge of likes and dislikes, of habits and reaction, both physical and mental. It is a web of instincts and intuitions, and known and unknown exchanges. The web of marriage is made by propinquity, in the day to day living side by side, looking outward and working outward in the same direction. It is woven in space and in time of the substance of life itself.

After twelve days of being home in Mankato I am finally heading back to St. Paul. I am leaving tomorrow morning.

These next few weeks are going to be wild. I want to do many things before I actually move to Iowa. Did I mention that I am really moving to Iowa to finally live in the same state as Jake? I can’t remember if I officially posted about it. Anyway, I want to do so many things before I leave that I need to make a big to-do list right now.

I am completely overwhelmed with feelings of transition and limbo. I feel splintered and I hate feeling splintered. It is sorta driving be crazy. Today I called my Dad at work and broke down…he made me feel better though.

There was no one at the ticket counter…I didn’t even hesitate. I opened the door and walked straight ahead, trying to look like I belonged. Inside I spotted the drinking fountain, Perfect I thought, A purpose! I totally need to get a drink of water. I saw the Men’s Bathroom, but where is the Woman’s Bathroom? I now knew that I had picked the wrong side. No bathroom to take cover and no theater that I sought insight. I saw the woman with the lavender shirt go to the ticket booth now. “Seventeen fifty, first theater on your right.” My stride was smooth, well as smooth as I could make it with my mind racing with the thought of being asked, “Can I see your ticket please?”. I entered the bathroom and looked in the mirror. What am I doing? I still hadn’t found the theater with the movie I came to see. Now I started to really panic and considered aborting the mission. Instead I peaked around the corner and saw March Of The Penguins only thirty feet ahead of me. I walked straight for it and slipped into the darkness.

For the first fifteen minutes I thought for sure the police were going to come in and take me away.

Since Monday I have been in my pajamas.

After a whirlwind of a wedding weekend I decided to stay in Mankato to organize my “old” room.

Four days later I am still in my pajamas.

I have literally saved every note from middle school, every notebook from high school, and every last paper and assignment from college and graduate school.

I have shuffled through boxes and boxes of saved letters from camp, notes from by B/F/F/E’s, and birthday cards. I read through my Hello Kitty grade school journals, and yes, they were locked (luckily I had saved the key).

All my crushes flashed through my head again.
All the drama of high school.
All the heartache.
All the questions about life.
All the goals.
All the insecurities.
All the sadness.
Everything. Flashed through my head again.

I have saved my entire life in boxes and for the past four days I watched myself grow up again.

I read letters that brought me to tears. Letters from my little brother when he was in first grade, letters from my Mom when she had a free minute at school, letters from my Dad sent to me during my weeks at camp…I still remember getting those letters. I read through hundreds of cards and little notes left by my college roommate Trisha (sometimes just saying, Good luck on your Biology test!). I read letters that made me remember what amazing friends I have from home. And then the notes to myself usually scribbled on scrapes of paper.

It wasn’t just letters in those boxes, it was also my education. From British Literature, to Physics, to Social Psychology, to Interpersonal Communication, to Logic, to Photography and to Statistics I took one last look and then I recycled.

I can’t keep everything forever. I saved things that I thought would make me happy in twenty years when I pull out my boxes again.

I don’t know if I can really fit my life in a box but at least I tried.