Written on 4.21.06

I just got back to the sates. Even more recently, I just got back to Haledon.
Books on Jesus H. Christ and helping yourself still dominate the dining room. Book cases add some organization to the chaos that is the living room (they're a recent addition). There are bread crumbs in the Smart Beat, and that container of mustard from god knows when is still taking up space in the fridge -second shelf up in the door.
Have I really been gone for four months or did I just wake up from an intense R.E.M. with only the absence of my partner and the hole in my nose transferring from dream to reality???

I've had short outbursts today. 1.Making a left onto 202 from campus (the weather and scenery mimicking the those of the Fall and Sunday morningss) 2. looking through text messages on my phone 3. Finding pictures from the Fall (that one was like a little yelp, gulp, and shutting of the eyes)
All of these lasted less than thirty seconds and were stifled as fast as they started.


today
*
Some things are not going to change for awhile and I don't want most of them to anyhow. I took off the top of a body wash container this morning, filled it up with water, and put it in the toilet instead of flushing it. The whole "if it's yellow, let it mellow; if it's brown, flush it down" applies to the last four months of my life. It made an impression on me, how many resources we use here, how little everyone else uses comparatively, and the price the latter are paying for the former's excessiveness.
There was a piece on NPR this morning about how Bangladesh might disappear in the next thirty years because of global warming. A villager who was interviewed sounded indignant and outraged because they are paying the price for the "developed" countries' wastefulness. And they are. And he's right. It's not fair.
I haven't taken a shower yet because I haven't taken one in four months. Just twice in Hampi, but other than that, I've been using the bucket method and I look at my tub and don't know what to do with it or myself. Mm Hampi was an exception though because the shower head was mounted on the side of a large boulder and the area was closed in by a wall of bamboo on the left and rock ledges on the right. I didn't even know we had a shower head in our room until three weeks after we moved in. Didn't even occur to me to look up.
Little things like these are examples of habits I've picked up and am unwilling to put down. Don't waste water. Don't waste food. Walk barefoot when you can.
And I'm putting off using my washing machine for as long as possible. I think I can do it ...
because I have lived in the same four or five shirts for the past four months and coming home, I am overwhelmed by my wardrobe. How could I have ever thought I had too little? I have so much! Little by little I am chipping away at it.


It feels ... it feels as if life has been on pause. Things are the same. The sound of mom's eyeglasses case being opened and shut still signals her waking and coming into the kitchen; Mom still looks at the mail while I'm talking to her; she still asks irrelevant questions at inopportune times.
For example, I am telling her about when I got my nose pierced, the look of the road, the man who did it, how I felt, etc.. I finish and she looks at me. "Aren't you hot in those pajamas?" She leaves me speechless in the worst possible way.

I thought she'd explode when she saw me, but it was quite the opposite. You would have thought I've been just 20 minutes away as usual.. at school... one hug, start opening the mail, start telling the junk mail to send Her money instead of asking it. Ask me when I'm going to start working, tell me her position in Hawthorne was eliminated.
Two jobs down, two to go.

I go into my room and, thanks, I'm ready to cry a little bit. Everything is the same as four months ago except for the weather.

Rachel and I went to Arabica last night. I had a medium spiced chai with soy milk and a small white tea. I was tempted by a slice of apple cinnamon bread, and was put off by the fact that they're selling rice cakes for fifty cents each. Gave Rachel her presents (three bags of loose Indian tea, handmade notebook made by women involved in an income generating road on Kanakapura road), she liked them very much. Sat outside before we got too cold and then sat inside. Me: Big Couch by the window, nearest the counter. Her: Stuffed armchair to my left. Music: Irish folk songs. I asked them to sing Molly Malone because it reminded me of how Jim would never stop singing that and how awful it was.
Met someone who knows both Craig and D. He paid for our second cup of tea and picked my brain about India. I was pretty reluctant.. not because I don't want to talk about it (wait, that might be part of it .. anything could be), but I do not faith in my ability to articulate/get across my thoughts on the matter with someone who I haven't been around for four months. The question running through my brain was "How can I communicate something I haven't had to in so long? How can I let this person understand?" The answer is To the best of my abilities, because I can ask nothing more of my brain right now. Midway into it, I just got tired and we moved on to another subject.
We've met so many people at Arabica, both of us so used to it, that neither of us were put off by him. With the predictable "Do you mind if I sit here?" the three of us settled into conversation, communication. New friend, couldn't hurt.. even though I am still not sure if I agreed or disagreed with most of what he was saying.
Got back at 1:15 a.m.

I woke up at 6:30 this morning. This is going to happen for awhile before my body adjusts to the time change. This happened when I went to India. For the first month and a half I could not sleep past 7:30. I am a reluctant morning person, someone who would much rather sleep until 11, but I am forced into productivity when I wake before dawn.
So I am cleaning my room. Ripping it apart and throwing it out. Saving only articles, pieces of paper I've scribbled on (there is a drawback to being a sporadic writer) and books that I might read eventually. I'm sure I committed some literary sin by putting Emma by Jane Austen in the Give Away pile. I just can't stand reading her.

I found a Marble Notebook from Freshman year of highschool. My journal from Honors English taught by Mr. Parent, a man who became my mentor for two years and then disappeared into another school system and county.
There aren't any dates on most of the entries, but just answers to journal prompts

September 3, 1999
My goal for this school year, being my first, is to work to my fullest potential. It is very to me that I thrive (academically speaking) in this school. Junior high seems long gone, and I am hoping I will have a successful new start in M.R.H.S. I would like very much to get all A's. I suppose that is what my goal comes down to in the end. This is going to take patience and hard work, of course. With the aide of my mom cutting off my phone time during the week, I'm sure I'll be fine.

What is your worst fear?
Another thing (I've left out the first paragraph) that scares the hell out of me is if my mom dies. Where would I go? My dad lives in Florida with his wife and son. They already have a family

Who was your first crush?
I think I was three. His name was Johnathan, or was it Adam? I honestly can't remember!

What do you think is the greatest invention ever made?
The pencil is the greatest invention ever made because it lets you erase mistakes.

Nothing can be worse than....
Dying when you haven't made an impression on the world and no one knows who you were.

I read through this and I have to smile. 14 year old Katie Brown amuses me completely. Such an odd, intense, serious, sarcastic little girl. And who is she now and is how far she's come successfully obvious and .. what's the distance in miles?

I also found a poem written for me. Some pictures taken of me. A star purchased for me..

I asked her
[her lip quivering in the crisp air]
if she would remember me
{me not quite being as developed as one would wish,
The mind of a grandfather
Body of a father
Yet able to be brushed from her eyes
(How I still yearn for them, like precious gems glimmering in the moon's smile)
as though only a down feather on
a patio of a suburban home.}
she answered.


It's 9:30 a.m., raining, and freezing. I think my body is confused. It doesn't know what time it is, my brain has been confused about the days since I came back, and my skin is used to being drenched in sweat ... not walking around on feet with toes that are almost purple from the cold or grabbing at objects with hands that are stiff with chill.

I am going to go to ShopRite with mom if I don't chicken out in the next five minutes. It's raining and grey this Saturday morning. Wait, I've just decided to chicken out.
I am requesting a grapefruit.

Weekend Edition is on and I don't want to miss Wait Wait Don't Tell Me.