Idiosycratic Life

Just got back from a great whirlwind weekend in Boston. I really feel like gushing about how "sublime" (to borrow a turn of phrase that Nick especially fancies- thanks) it was to see the Boyfriend, but I will spare you all the details, except to say that I never thought a *person* could feel like home. I began feeling that way about Stephen during sophomore year at Syracuse, but I always also thought perhaps that it was *college* that was starting to feel like home, not just him. But it is him. Gush, gush, gush...

Alissa's entry about returning to University of Delaware to use the library got me thinking. I have not been back to S.U in the eight months since I graduated but I have been thinking about it a lot, knowing that people are going on Spring Break and thinking about how I spent Spring Break last year, mostly writing the bulk of my senior thesis. I was writing a letter to College Roommate Goddessfriend Erika yesterday about what I miss in Syracuse: Jo, Erika and Jillian; taking Bella to the enclosed amiptheater where there were anywhere from 7 to 20 dogs and their owners chatting, throwing frisbees and being crazy dog people in general at any given time in the spring; my picture story families; the Rose Garden and the retired people who would tend it every Wednesday morning; My Sisters' Words bookstore, seeing a lot of good, free theater; hanging out in the darkroom and spinning on the swivel chairs with Luke and Jill; some of my professors; a community of feminists to be activists with; the feeling of escape as I jumped in the car, usually with Jo, to go "home;" the feeling of nervousness and relief when I returned and first saw the Carrier Dome on the horizon. With my move to Florida imminent and no terribly compelling reason to drive five hours to Central New York, I really wonder how long it will be until I get back there...

What else do I want to say? I want to say something about the things that have been going on on some people's blogs, particularly involving my friends from high school. (College friends and others who read this can skip this part. :) When we first began blogging, I loved it, because i got a little glimpse of people's every day lives. I got to hear about what they were doing, laugh at the funny things that were happening to them, and share the general details of my crazy, random existence. I felt better in touch with some people than I have been in years. But lately, it's just become a way for people to criticize, insult and offend each other, which, frankly, I thought were part of the dynamics I did not miss when we all went our separate ways. I want to stop reading the things that upset me, or read them quietly and not comment, and mostly I do hold my tongue when I read erroneous assumptions about politics I hold dear or read things that I find upsetting about other people's opinions of- oh I don't know- women in general and women I consider to be as close as sisters to me. I am a daughter of the First Ammendment, and I passionately defend the freedom of speech, and I could choose not to listen, not to go to the blogs that I find offensive, or not let it bother me. And I am working on that.

But I do miss you guys, you who know how many times I had to take my drivers' test to pass, who drove home from college in a borrowed tux and took me to the prom on my 18th birthday when my date ditched me at the last minute, who remember each others' first cars and the nicknames for them, who came to see each other in plays and musicals and concerts, who spent their collective adolescences in each others' basements and living rooms and backyards... I love each and every one of you, in all your wholeness, with all the things I agree with and disagree with about each of you. And I don't think that the differences should be erased or that people shouldn't be themselves, but living our lives online and opening up the realms of privacy on the Internet regarding our thoughts and opinions is both innovative and powerful. But lately it just seems that the power has become more like ammunition than connection, and that worries me. I know that I have occasionally slipped, and I apologize for that. We should be good to each other, respect the differences of opinions and actions, and remember why we're friends, even if those reasons relate solely to a shared history and warm old habits.

Okay, non-Old High School Friends, you can begin reading again, :)To all of you, in the words of Garrison Keeler, "be well, do good work, and keep in touch."