Yay iPod Shuffle! and weird musings

So, finally, the iPod shuffle arrived via Fedex today whilst I was at work. I set it all up, loaded it up with music from the ol' computer, and the first song it decided to play for me? "It's Easy, mmmKay?" from South Park, Bigger, Longer and Uncut. I think that the iPod and I will be great friends. (This is all after I decided to blatantly ignore Apple's warnings and tried to eat the cute little iPod....). Sigh. Love the lovely music.

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In other news, I've obviously been in quite a funk lately (read the previous post for evidence) and I think that it's due to the resurfacing of old drama. I'm not going to go into it at this time; it's late and I don't really have the energy in all honesty. Also, other people have beaten the subject to death on their own blogs. About a year ago I actually made a decision to which I really have tried to be faithful: No more drama. Those of you who know me (all 3 of you...:) ) know how much I love gossip. I do. I love talking about other people's drama. I love to know details about it. I adore dissecting it. It's so much easier to talk about other people than to look inside yourself and see all of you own faults and problems, all of your own deeply-buried, dusty issues. I moved to New Hampshire, glad to be away from the drama of a small incestuous Theatre Department, and ready to start afresh. It's absolutely so liberating to leave it all behind and start over -- you can become whoever you want to and no one will question you. I have done this thrice in my life at critical times and it's hard because you're discovering yourself right along with all of your new friends. But it's very freeing.

For so long I haven't known who I was. At the end of high school, I wasn't sure who I was or what I really wanted out of life (I still don't know that, but I have an inkling now...). I started fresh in college: a new town, no parents, new D. I kept the HS boyfriend around for a while, but we broke up because of the dreaded distance factor. I have tragically forgotten much of the essence of that relationship now. It's weird to read my journal from then; I feel like I'm reading about someone else's life. There's such a bizarre disconnect -- I have no emotional memory of K.

Somewhere along the line in college I found myself in the midst of intense drama. No. That's not quite accurate. The first dramatics of my college years started for me on 23 March 2000. I was assaulted. I'll never forget the hazy memories of that night, nor will I forget the aftermath. I'll never forgive him for it. And I'll never fully forgive myself for being weak in that moment. Tragically, that has become one of the defining moments of my life. And very few people even know about it. I locked it up in a box. Stuffed it into a corner. Threw some very heavy old books on top of it to make sure it didn't get opened up ever. Covered it in an old ratty afghan. Tried to forget about it. But it wouldn't be forgotten. It wouldn't let me go. Five years later, and I still have nightmares about it on occasion. I've survived. But I'm not thriving. All of this rehashing of old Theatre Department drama has reminded me quite piercingly of it.

I am bigger than this. All 5'2 of me. I will keep trying to move on. As if to mock me, 14 months ago, he left a note on my car when I was home for Christmas. I found it when I took Bil to the airport. I had to drive home from LAX alone. And I couldn't stop shaking. It reminded me of everything. And that damned lockbox of mine failed me.

When I told my parents about "the incident," as I like to dramatically refer to it, my mom was incredibly sympathetic, but she told me that I had to tell my father. Who made me tell him over the phone. I was a terrified 18-year-old and he berated me for "letting it happen." Please don't think him a bad person; he's a control freak who lost control and got angry. He's been trying to make up for that and other things for the last five years.

Anyway, the point: I have gone through a lot of dramatics in the last few years (ok, the last decade) of my life. And I'm tired. Tired of drama. Tired of gossip. Tired of getting mixed up in it and tired of starting it and tired of getting swept up by it. I'm done. Drama is in everyone who is malcontent with the state of things within themselves, and I am really tired of being so malcontent. (I do still plan to be a curmudgeon, but I don't want drama in my life -- this is the stuff of stage and page and screen.)

I wish I could have some sort of cathartic final statement, answer the question "So what?" conclude with dignity, but mostly, I just want to have for myself a little piece of the dignity that was taken from me so long ago.

That is all.