This last day April, I look over the posts I have written this past month, and it's amazing how fast things happen, just when you think life goes by so slow. This month has been a turning point...

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I attended Calypso last night. Remember when I went like three years ago, as a freshman? I had a blast, dancing with hippies etc. This time I went with Aleisha and this time I knew Galen in the band, and this time I had fun too. This time I knew I was going to have fun, so it wasn’t the amazing experience like the first time but, of course, I had so much fun. I love dancing. And Calypso is perfect.

From the HSU music web page…
The Steel Drum, or “Steelpan" as it is called in Trinidad, is a highly developed instrument formed from a 55-gallon oil barrel. The barrel is hammered, measured, scribed, grooved, fired, and then fine-tuned by an expert craftsman. Through the use of single, double, and multiple combinations of barrels of different depths, the full symphonic range is reproduced. The music performed on these instruments has been called both festive and inspirational, and the steelpan drum was, in fact, the only acoustic instrument invented in the 20th century.

The Humboldt State Calypso Band prides itself in maintaining an accurate and authentic connection to the Caribbean roots of the steel band movement and the innovative musicians of Trinidad, the island on which this unique percussion phenomenon was born. Present and former members of the Calypso Band have traveled to the West Indies, where they performed with some of the best steelbands in the world in Trinidad’s National Panorama Competition during Carnival. In turn, Panorama music from Trinidad has greatly influence the band's repertoire and instrumentation.

In other news…
I may be going cross-country. I haven’t left California in three years. I’ve never been to the east coast. And in light of recent events in my life, I need to explore. Being on the other side will be an experience. I’ve discovered that what I really need to do with my situation, is figure out what I want, what I can do, and not have to take care of someone anymore. My friend Amy commented on a post of mine a wee time ago, “I have been an “us” and a “we” for so long”. I feel the same way. I’m worried I have forgotten who I am. I haven’t really gotten to the point of knowing something about me, and what I want, and where I want to go. I need to do stuff on my own, while I am in college, cause here I am still growing. Here I am safe to explore still, to learn still. I cannot let myself fall in to a funk later on in life. What I mean is, if I stayed with James who I do dearly love, I would later on in life most likely regret that I did not try things I may have wanted to. That’s not to say I know what I want to try right now, but as I have said, being in this relationship I am tied to him. My decisions all revolve around “we” and “us”. I have shut myself off from many things because of that. I am only 21. I cannot do that yet. This choice is hard, will be harder later, when the actual separation from James happens. He is with his friends right now, and I miss him. But it’s better then the last time he left, when I wept, and grew weary of my choice to end this. Right now I have gone through weeks of convincing myself I need to do this to grow. Now I know that’s what I want to do. When my stomach turns abruptly I feel the worst, but I breathe in. When I think about the heart that I have broken, I feel the worst, but I exhale and try to move forward.

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April 4, 2005 This I Believe

By: Isabel Allende

--Here is the website where you can listen to essay read by Isabel Allende
http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=4568464


I have lived with passion and in a hurry, trying to accomplish too many things. I never had time to think about my beliefs until my 28-year-old daughter Paula fell ill. She was in a coma for a year and I took care of her at home, until she died in my arms in December of 1992.

During that year of agony and the following year of my grieving, everything stopped for me. There was nothing to do -- just cry and remember. However, that year also gave an opportunity to reflect upon my journey and the principles that hold me together. I discovered that there is consistency in my beliefs, my writing and the way I lead my life. I have not changed, I am still the same girl I was fifty years ago, and the same young woman I was in the seventies. I still lust for life, I am still ferociously independent, I still crave justice and I fall madly in love easily.

Paralyzed and silent in her bed, my daughter Paula taught me a lesson that is now my mantra: You only have what you give. It's by spending yourself that you become rich.

Paula led a life of service. She worked as a volunteer helping women and children, eight hours a day, six days a week. She never had any money, but she needed very little. When she died she had nothing and she needed nothing. During her illness I had to let go of everything: her laughter, her voice, her grace, her beauty, her company and finally her spirit. When she died I thought I had lost everything. But then I realized I still had the love I had given her. I don't even know if she was able to receive that love. She could not respond in any way, her eyes were somber pools that reflected no light. But I was full of love and that love keeps growing and multiplying and giving fruit.

The pain of losing my child was a cleansing experience. I had to throw overboard all excess baggage and keep only what is essential. Because of Paula, I don't cling to anything anymore. Now I like to give much more than to receive. I am happier when I love than when I am loved. I adore my husband, my son, my grandchildren, my mother, my dog, and frankly I don't know if they even like me. But who cares? Loving them is my joy.

Give, give, give -- what is the point of having experience, knowledge or talent if I don't give it away? Of having stories if I don't tell them to others? Of having wealth if I don't share it? I don't intend to be cremated with any of it! It is in giving that I connect with others, with the world and with the divine.

It is in giving that I feel the spirit of my daughter inside me, like a soft presence.

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At least I don't feel like I am dead, actually I kinda feel like what I always dreaded when I was a little kid. Grown up. None of this happens to you when you're little. At first I took it hard, I stuck my feet in the sand and let the waves come. I didn't back down. I cried, I broke down... Now I am getting to the point of strange limbo, I care, but I don't too. I make sense, but I don't either. I can't explain, but I know I have been in his shoes, you can't always explain why you are breaking someone. To be honest with you, I don't know what is going to happen now. I don't know if I will break down, and drown again in the easiness that is this relationship. I don't know if I'm even looking for something. I don't really know what I am doing, but the fact that I'm still not toppling over yet, may say something about why this is happening.

Then I think back over the past six months of this two year time. And I remember the doubts I had, what I wasn't happy with but ignored. These things are all around me now, reminding me that if I went back I would be tied up again. No not tied up, but I would shield myself from the outside. I know that I hardly made the effort to do anything because other stuff might mess up what this was. I mean I had this constant fear that if I was not with him 24/7 I would grow apart. That I would find something better. Deep down I knew, that if I found something/someone better I would probably pursue it, and drift apart. So I closed myself off from doing anything real, in fact WOW only contributed. It sheltered me from reality like a drug abuser. There are other things too, obvious little nuisances. Being the mother, no intellectual stimulation etc. That I think about going back to, and I don't want to.

But I'm scared of the alone. I am scared of having to build all that up again, even though at the moment I don't want to have anything to do with it. I'm scared of my sudden physical consciousness. I am scared of never having that communication, and comfort level. I really am, the ease of slipping back into the shelter makes this a really hard decision to make. However in spite of all those things, I feel like I have to do this, or I'll never know the other stuff...see the thing here is I'm choosing between two regrets. The regret of never knowing other things, and the regret of loosing the only thing I had. It's the risk I have to take. I feel like if we went back to the way things were, I would be lying to myself, to him too. I feel like if I went back I would come to this cross road again. It would haunt me forever...

But still all those reason don't make the breaking of someone easier to deal with. I feel like a terrible person because I am one.

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Sometimes I cannot tell if things are getting easier or harder. It seems old memories and habits pop up, reminding me of the good old times, but it's easier to say no to the present ones. I cant really ask if this is the right or wrong thing to do. It's not a matter of right or wrong this time. My will to resist and actions to maintain my descisions, show me that there is something going on in me. This thing in me must be important, I grow to find that this must be done, and for both our sakes too.
I still cry, I fight a lot with my eyes, my voice, my arms...

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There are so many things I could write about, but I dont want to this time. SO I am going to write indirectly. Dreams are dangerous things, and I dont know where I am going, where they are leading me. Its a dark path in the woods that I wander now. The light is gone completely, the lamp failed. Can it be re-lit? What about the new lamps, this time more veiled and confusing. They lead me off the path and I get confused by their signals. The only thing keeping me grounded to earth is the moon swining over head, my true sister. I wonder about the dreams I have of sun drenched grass fields...how dreams have such a profound affect on life. Even if they dont come true in the way you expect, somehow that subconscious world mingles with the real one. Dreams are dangerous things, the path in the woods is dark...

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Timing is everything.

Finally something worthy to feel so much about. I have an excuse to feel like shit for once.

Sometimes I just want every person involved to just be erased from my mind for a week, sit on some bench in something beautiful and not remember anything.

!!!!!!!!!!!!!

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Well as you can see, from my last post I’m 21 now. Since spring break a couple weeks ago my whole “self” has been…well let’s just say I’m not “right”, whatever that means. Aleisha took me bar hopping, and Galen came to. I had about four shots, I think, a couple of beers too. We ended up just sitting in Toby and Jack’s talking for about two hours, deep in to the night. I found I had to yell to be understood, but I don’t know if that’s why I was feeling so empowered to talk or the alcohol or just me. Probably a combination. But we told Galen everything about our past, including wild birthdays from freshman year. It was just a great thing for me to talk about, because it was, as close to telling the real person the real shit I should have said back in the day. But that’s really a closed subject I realized. After we talked I still didn’t feel too inclined to care anymore.

The week went on, and my hormones and I now I am stressed when I break out in disgusting cold sores send me in to wild frenzies of frustrated words. Last night and this morning seemed to be the culmination of everything. However it wasn’t a break down, it was a dream. I want to think it meant something as much as I want to forget it because it’s only a dream. It was simple. Not much to say that would make any sense written. I was in a cemetery, and these other guys I was hanging out with-ones of which I maybe met once in my life were there. They wanted to take me to the Window Room. But as soon as I saw I had to crawl down a tunnel to get there, I couldn’t handle it. I said, “guys I cant do this, it’s my claustrophobia. I walked down the hill of the cemetery to a shady place close to the road. Across the street houses that reminded me of southern California bordered the road. I saw across the street familiar people crossing the road; people that resembled people in my geography department. For the purposes of the next part I am going to call this person Bob, I don’t know any Bobs so that works. But Bob came out the crowd, “Caitlin!” he said and ran over to me. We embraced the way we do when we see each other, always tight. “What are you doing here?” I asked, apparently realizing we were in Venice California. What happens next is kind of blurry, but the clearest thing I remember next is sitting on the grass, leaning back on our hands, our legs stretched out before us. Bob generally likes to stand or sit close to people, seems to be in his nature. The closeness was an obvious tension between us, and I looked up knowing that we were going to kiss. And of course we did, and I was enjoying it, more then just a typical “sex dream”, but rather more like my entire ‘self” was except for one thing. I kept feeling my eyes tighten, as I knew I should pull away. I thought about James. But for some reason in my dream I wanted this more then that whole thing. Strange how easy and willing people are to give up their entire life for something so small? It seemed to go on for a long time, me grabbing his arm indecisively pulling him towards me and pushing him away. I cannot remember if that is all, but I know the next thing was waking up blurry and delirious. I thought it could have been real, so many of dreams sometimes feel like that. But I was still in the messy smelly bedroom with James already clicking away at his Mactintosh.

Believe it or not I told James, a true testament to the communication in our relationship. (Of course this never crossed my mind when I was caught up in my dream). I didn’t tell him the identity of Bob, but I told him how I wanted it to happen in the dream, and everything I have written thus far. We have never spoken of “cheating” amongst the hundreds of other issues we deal with. However it was always known that James would be upset, and I would decide my feelings upon understanding the situation. To be honest I always say he should get more “girl” experience. But of course couldn’t happen, even though I always say it with the slightest bit of truth. However it wasn’t till this day that we had this conversation that I learned what James means by “upset”. To him it’s “I am with this person, there is no one else”. To him this relationship is so sacred that there is no questioning it farther then dreams or thoughts one has about other people. However in an “open relationship” it would be different. Seems he is all in to the labels, the morality. For anyone else they can do whatever they want, but for him this is how it is. Which means of course I have to fit in. If I were to some how come in to the situation of kissing Bob or anyone else, and I did not make a concerted effort to stop, James would be over it, there would be no leeway or forgiveness, he says he would be utterly devastated. He’s entitled to feel this way, and by all means should feel this way.

But suddenly I grew very weary of our relationship. I grew sad, and distant. I started to think about Bob. I started to think about the fact that if that ever happened it would never be forgiven. Now I know I am choosing. If that moment ever came about I would have to consider all the facts that I had not before. Then I took a step back and realized that I was seriously considering my whole relationship and throwing it to the wind. That everything about a new apartment plans and crap for the future, suddenly they didn’t mean anything all because of the feeling I had in that dream. That feeling that suddenly emerged in that dream, that has always been digging deep in me since we met. It’s connected to that whole issue of “will this be the last person I ever kiss? Being here I risk never getting the full dating experience”.

I sat a while depressed in the messiness of our lives. I had to take James to work and finish up a bunch of research in the Cartography lab so I wasn’t able to really think much about crap anymore. Now it’s just this weak idea, that feels so good and so awful at the same time.

And I look at myself and say, “how selfish and goddamn evil I am, I am so evil”.

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