...believe me when I beg you, don't ever leave me alone.
(AKA I always need something in my life. A new revelation, actually.)
I rewatched Brideshead Revisited with my parents the other day. I was in awe of how completely this family took over this guy’s life.
I mean, really. To the point where, after five years, he picked up and went to Morocco because the mother asked.
I began thinking that was ridiculous and being glad that I would never be that malleable. My own life would be mine, and I’d do what I wanted to do in it.
Then, of course, I realized my folly. (Wouldn’t be writing a blog entry if I hadn’t, yeah?) Letting things completely and utterly take over your life? Isn’t that what always happens to me? In some weird way, I constantly need an obsession. Something to occupy my time and save me from seasons of mediocre tv and other, worse, vices.
What are some previous things that occupied my time?
Well, potentially embarrassing, but I’m enough of a cliche to have done high school theatre. But I’m cutting edge (hahah) enough to have started that phase back in middle school, so it was out of my system by halfway through sophomore year. Don’t doubt my dedication, I’ve slept on that stage, on the apron, in the wings, in the greenroom. Not because I was getting out of working, but because I’d been there all night, after school until 11 for tech week, and the like. When you’re fourteen and school starts at 7, that is sort of a big deal. No, I didn’t do theatre because I am Gus Langley’s sister. I hated when people assumed that. “Why are you here? Oh yeah. You’re Gus’ sister.” NO. We both did theatre because we’d been bred to do theatre. Our dad did it. Our mom did it. I’d have done it with or without my brother’s influence. But thankfully, because of my brother’s said influence, I could get out of that world a little bit more quickly.
I participated in Odyssey of the Mind for ten years and was a spectator even before that. It’s been in my life longer than my little brother has. I’ve donated hours, puns, tears, and arguments to regional, state, and world competitions for nearly as long as I can remember. And how does it end in my senior year? We completely fuck up. Don’t even write a script. I’m okay with that. It’s not a part of my life anymore at all. Went out with a bang, at least, and had some of the most fun I’ve ever had with it. Still. Something that was a big part of my life fizzled. A phase, albeit a long one.
Then there’s that whole school business in general. I cared a whole heck of a lot back in middle school, when nothing mattered. I was in nine clubs. I was Gifted Student of the Year. I tried. I did my work. I was involved. I’ve got nothing to show for that now, except the suspicion that this early dedication is what made me something of a burnout by the age of fifteen.
Let’s blame Barack Obama for a minute. It’s his fault, in a sense, that I can now drink black coffee. I did my college applications (A former, similar obsession, I assure you. For two and a half years, my “11:11 wish” was to get into Brown. I tried to start my application essays back in middle school. Ughh) in just two nights (with plenty of that aforementioned black coffee) since they were due in the midst of GOTV weekend.
Not quite picking up and leaving for Morocco, but pretty damn close for the old me.
I’ve always made fun of people who commit and have causes. That sounds bad, but, oh well. I did. I’m sick of trying out passions and going through phases. I want to be done with that and either have one or not. Ideally, I’d like to keep the one I’ve got -- I like organizing. If I can go two weeks with no more than three hours of consecutive sleep, I feel like I’m doing good things.
I think I’m probably writing this because I’m terrified that I will similarly “snap out” of the community organizing kick I’m on, like some people are so certain that I will.
I reallllly hope not. Once an organizer, always an organizer, yeah?
(This is the part where you reassure me, please)