okay, so i shoved myself away from my computer last night finally so that i could shower before my trip. this was at four thirty. i was just about to try and actually wash my hair when my father rang the doorbell.
excuse me? what? my father is notorious for consistently being late. i think he was only ten minutes early, but i was expecting him to be at least ten minutes late, so consequently he had little of value to do while i ran around in a panicked state at some ridiculous hour of the "morning" before the sun even had pretensions of rising.
i spent the whole trip to jfk panicking also. did i forget something? is my "purse" too large?
tangent! i have my old homeless lady sack with me whenever i travel. i sewed it up in a mad hurry the night before going home from college for the first time. (i realized at about one am before a seven am bus departure that i had no bags but my bookbag.) remarkably the result is rather cool looking, and i have been asked where i bought it. it still looks like i'm a homeless woman with it, though, and it's so large it just doesn't qualify as a purse. just the right size to carry tapes, my walkman, extra batteries, a few books, a deck of cards, whatever small edible and drinkable things i might sneak with me for my trip (although i didn't use it for a plane ride, this feature is essential when i'm on amtrak) and all the last minute things i was supposed to bring with me but came close to forgetting.
i love this sack. i think for me it represents my creative abilities and my resourcefulness. plus i really look like a bag lady. when i had the orchard park engagement for dr. rudge with the whole transportation fiasco i ended up waiting outside a middle school with my bookbag, a broken duffel bag, this bag lady sack and my pillow. i swear the kids were all frightened. random twenty year old homeless looking person sitting outside a middle school reading and periodically laughing raucously. (in my defence the book was good omens, so i was completely justified in my boisterous laughter.)
anyhow, the trip from my house to jfk is entirely too long for me to spend worrying about these things. oh, and security. i always worry a bit about that. i always wear my doc martens when i travel. actually, just always, traveling or not. they're so practical that i can't substitute anything else. the shoes are steel toe, though. this means that i set off every metal detector. and i know it ahead of time.
i always go up there knowing they're going to have to at least wand me. i worry about whether i should indicate that i know, or if eagerness on my part to tell them what i think the problem is will lead them to want to investigate further. plus today they wanted to do a more thorough search of one of my bags. the one with my flute in it. i wanted to ask them to be careful with my baby, my love, my career, my life, my raison d'être, but thought maybe that would also sound suspicious?
i always do this. there are a relatively large number of occasions on which i find it impossible to act naturally because i've been worrying my way through them hypothetically for ages. well, not ages. some are just stupid things like leaving messages on people's voice mail or answer machine. these things make me unsure of myself. if i do them extemporaneously i always feel i end up sounding stupid, but if i really plan them out, then that's obvious, too. if i gave myself a guideline to follow (i'm not generally really anal enough to do this) then i would invariably think of some new necessary topic to add at the last minute and end up having most of the message sound smooth, but it would end with a stilted and rambling phrase.
i've been told so many times that i'm articulate. i've even been told that i'm articulate in french. geez. i'm a verbal wonder. i still can't get it together. when i'm stressed i lose all confidence in myself, and it isn't as though my confidence was rock solid in the first place.
it's so interesting the way people respond to other people. nervousness and timidity make my voice so incredibly soft. i can actually be delicate, amazing, eh? i get that way over the stupidest of things. when i was asked if i'd like a beverage on the plane i was uncertain for some reason. i replied, "orange juice? please?" in a voice you'd swear only a four year old could master. i was grateful the man heard me, or else i'd have prolly been so embarrassed i'd just have shaken my head and died of thirst rather than repeat the phrase. my embarrassments are so frequent, and so baseless at times, yet so many people seem to think of me as this paragon of capability and confidence. (what?)
people who know me at all think of me as having a sort of vibrant personality. those who know me see that i'm loud, i'm confident and i seem very sure of myself. the thing is that on first speaking with most people i sound entirely different.
i have a fairly consistant tendency to have a much higher pitched voice when talking with people i don't know well. telemarketers prolly think i'm frilly and feminine. the thing is that i get all derisive about it, but at other times i've wished i had a more soft, feminine voice. wow, i make it sound like i'm a raspy thirty year smoker with a man's deep voice.
my voice isn't really bad, but i always feel as though it sounds too... maybe nasal? (darn those french classes) somehow just not delicate enough, and yet again not quite socially acceptable for a young woman.
i wouldn't really want some higher pitched, soft, delicate voice, though. i like to argue. who can do that while sounding like they might faint?
i think it's just another manifestation of me being happy with myself in terms of mental evaluation, but never satisfied in my heart. who do i want me to be? a goddess? bloody utter lack of realism.
if i could ever convince myself to believe my head over my heart, then i'd finally have self confidence. right now the two battle constantly, and while i'll cheer for my logic and say i stand firmly behind it, secretly i'm out ambushing myself with emotion.
funny, i've been told my whole life i'm overly emotional, and my whole life i've been pushing logic as king. now i'm finding that i try to practice what i preach, but emotions win over thought with me constantly. if i were arguing against me, i would probably mock me for not using enough practicality. i should maybe just accept that i'm apparently a bit more of a flighty female than i'd wish to be. marvelous. *sigh*
posted by Unknown at 12:31 AM