That Sea, The Gambler

Last week was really long and really tiring. I've reached that part of the summer where all the weeks start to mesh into one, and the days no longer hold any relevance, as monday feels like friday.  I went hiking on sunday with my friend and that was really nice and we talked about some really important things that we really needed to talk about.  I feel a lot better about our relationship now than I did last week.  Then we went and got free ice cream and went shopping in Stowe, killing time until we could have dinner with her boyfriend and his sister and our other friend.  It was nice, not having any real place to be, stealing free cheese samples from the cabot factory.  It was relaxing.

And then I was forced to endure one of the most awkward dinners in the history of awkward dinners.  I don't want to go into detail about it but it was shitty.  I actually got to know the sister better and she's super cool and I like her.  Then, she left to go do something (I can't even remember what it was), and we played basketball and lacrosse for like two hours and then my friend and I went home, finally.  And I sat in the car listening to her worries about her sister, while I was silently sitting there, wallowing in self-pity and trying not to cry.

She looked over at me, and she gave me a look only my mother gives me.  "I know," she said, "I'm sorry."  And I hated myself more than anything because a tear slipped out and I didn't want it to.  "It sucks being ignored.  And this is very cliche and over-used, but boys are boys.  They're oblivious and they don't understand why girls feels the way they do at all. I'm sorry though.  That was pretty bad."  And I nodded and I listened to her tell me she felt the exact same way I did, and that we had been ignored and that she was unbelievably mad about that.

I slept a maximum of three hours that night.  And I was pissed because the night before I slept a full twelve and that was the first time in a long time that I'd slipped into my familiar pattern- no sleep, no problem.

I was talking to my mom the other day, and she told me how sad she was that both of her children had left, and for the next two weeks I was the only child.  Then she talked about how depression is a roller coaster and that for months at a time, you'll feel great and then for more months, you won't feel great and everything will serve only to make you sadder than you already are.

So I sat in the car on Sunday night and I explained this to my friend.  And I told her being ignored and trying to deal with a new friendship with a person I have decided I don't understand does not help because recently I've been on the down part of that roller coaster of depression.

"I'm just really fucked up," I told her.  "And it isn't anyone else's fault because they can't know, but when they do shit like that, it really doesn't help."  And she looked at me and she told me I wasn't fucked up because there was no way in hell that the girl she's known since kindergarten was fucked up.  "There's no way my Katy is fucked up.  She's lost and that's normal, but she couldn't ever be fucked up."  And after that I just cried harder because I didn't know what to do.

It sucks knowing exactly what is wrong with you, and knowing that it entails constantly having your emotions change.  Because even though my life is actually really good right now- I don't feel like it is.  Even though I kicked-ass on my SATs and even though I finally made up with a person I hated and even though my eighth-grade bully and I are friends, I feel like I've done nothing good ever. I feel exactly like what I said I felt, I feel really fucked up.

But she said I wasn't fucked up and she was right, I am lost. And I'm trying to live up to that, to not being fucked up.  Its really hard to do that.

It's really hard.

"remember when our songs where just like prayers.
like gospel hymns that you called in the air

now i’ve been crazy couldn’t you tell
i threw stones at the stars, but the whole sky fell
now i’m covered up in straw, belly up on the table"

"and i ran back to that hollow again

the moon was just a sliver back then
and i ached for my heart like some tin man"

Sarcasm Should Have Been My Middle Name

Alright people, moment of truth.  I will tell you my middle name, but you have to promise not to laugh, got it? Okay, so my middle name is Mosher (pronounced with a hard 'sh' sound that really sounds more like a z).  My full name is Katharine Mosher Rosen.  Here is a great area in which my parents failed me because my middle name should most certainly have been sarcasm.  Why, you ask?

Well I feel like if sarcasm had been my middle name, it would have been a bit like a warning, say, like the itunes terms and acceptances, where you have a vague idea of what you are getting into.  And then, once you've "sworn" (haha funny joke itunes) that you have read the terms and acceptances, and you actually start using the product, you get b****h-slapped.  But in this case, I would be the one doing the slapping.  If you haven't caught on yet, I'm the most sarcastic person I've ever met and considering who a large majority of my friends are, this is an accomplishment.  Hold your applause, everyone.

Most of the time, I can't help myself.  I just have to say the thing thats pops in my mind (which is always slightly rude) as a response to, well, everything.  I have perfected the sarcasm voice, and the look to go along with it.  If you don't know me, and I say one of these sarcastic things, I apologize in advance for almost certainly offending you.

A few of my favorite phrases:
-I would say I'm sorry, but I'm not 
-I don't know whether I should laugh at you or pity you
-when someone says something like, "Do I look bad in this dress?",  my response is almost always yes.
-I'll alert the media

I should be branded with a sign saying: Warning- If you are sensitive please go away. I feel like that would have saved a lot of people and myself from awkward/potentially hurtful situations.  At this point in my life, I've learned to curb it in front of people who I need to curb it in front of (like the lady at the desk at the Hamilton admissions office who asked, "oooh, a Vermonter.  Oh your the girl from the ski academy! So you must like to ski?"  I had to restrain myself from saying that I was much more fond of wrangling unicorns and jumping rope.  Somehow I don't think that would have gone well...)  But in general, I've given up curbing it because I just enjoy using it too much. 

And with that, I'll leave you with one of my favorite quotes ever:
“If you find it hard to laugh at yourself, I would be happy to do it for you.”


If you know you said this, major brownie points for you. Also, lets be friends.

I Hope You Know

Its Sunday afternoon.  I've skipped play because I have too much homework to do, and Gabe and I have been home alone since friday morning.  I'm sitting at the coffee table, slapping glue and pictures onto a cigar box, making it look pretty and measuring everything out with a ruler.  My phone vibrates, playing the special ring tone.  You say, "What are you doing right now." I say homework, and that I'm bored. You say, "Stop that then, lets do something." And I tell you to come over now.

You pick me up in the beat up green subaru, and we drive.  I don't even think you knew where you were going but you turned the music up all the way and started dancing, as much as you could while still driving your stick shift (which we both agreed on was totally bad ass).  We find ourselves at the top of the ap-gap where we agree to get one instagram worthy shot, and then take a bunch of panoramas, trying to make you look like a ninja.  We drive down to the top of the practice lift and sit there and talk for a while, and then we begin to trek back to your car, in search of ice cream.

As we drive down the winding roads into town, we sing along to the music and laugh at our own practical jokes.  We get onto the subject of friends, and I say I don't talk about you when I'm with one of my other friends and then you get offended.  But then I try to explain, saying I don't want our special thing, how close we are, to be ruined by anyone.  "Thats why I don't talk about it," I say.  You laugh and say, "Ohh I'm 'special' am I?" And we laugh.  You say, "So when you are with your best friend-" and I interrupt to say, "No, you are my best friend."  Because you are and even though we don't say it, we know it.  You look at me and smile and say, "Good."  And then we talk a little more and then you say, "You know I'm fun with other people, but I can only be really fun and crazy with you.  So your right, its special."  And I smiled and by then we were at the creemee and we get out and order two blizzards, what has become our routine.  And I say, "its okay, we're athletes." And then we dissolve into giggles and the girl at the counter gives us a weird look.

You made my afternoon really good, and you reminded me of how much I like have you as a friend.  Like I said, its special with you, and I'm glad its that way.

Thats the end of my writing, because, like I said, I don't want to share how special it is.  Which may be selfish, but I only have a year left of this closeness, this friendship we've built.  So I'm going to keep it to myself for a while more.

"You went full trip man, you never go full trip"
"Man, in this case ya do."

"Since you paid your the boy. I'll be the girl."
You flipped your hair, and it landed in your ice cream.  I couldn't stop laughing.

"TURN DOWN FOR WHAT"
*complete with ridiculous car dancing*

Also, you told me I never had an entire post dedicated to you and that Christine did, and that you were annoyed at me for that. So Kreeky or KG or whatever you want to be called, here you go.

Little Lou, Ugly Jack, Prophet John

It was late at night, and I had just walked into the space right inside the glass doors of the library.  My hair was a mess, my makeup was a bit smeared.  I wasn't wearing shoes, carrying my bag and my heels.  I was beyond tired, as I always am after prom.  I was waiting for Kara to come and pick me up, and then a girl walked into the space.  She was crying, as I've only seen her do twice before.  She looked at me. "Do you have a phone I could use?" She sniffled out, trying to contain herself.  I understood, she hates crying in front of other people.

Instead of giving her my phone, which she could plainly see in my hand, I hugged her.  I stroked her hair.  "I'm just really sad," she said, starting to really sob, "I'm sorry, I'm just really sad."  I knew what she was talking about, I knew why she was sad.  I rubbed her back as I held her tighter, knowing she did not want to be held.  "I promise," even though I couldn't, "that it will be okay.  Its going to be okay."  And she sobbed even harder and then I hugged her for a little while more and when she stopped crying I let her go.  "I'm sorry." She sniffled it out again, wiping her eyes.  "Don't ever be sorry for feeling.  Just don't." "Yeah." That was it.  She then said, "You look good. Really good. No boy deserves you."  I laughed.  "Do you need my phone or not?"  "Yeah," she smiled, "I do.  Give it here."  And that was the end of the conversation.

That girl and I are actually very similar, and last night I felt really close to her because she's cried in i'm front of me more than she has in front of anyone else (save her parents or sibling)- this she's told me.  I'm glad that this girl and I, who used to have a certain discord saved for each other, have become like this.  I'm glad she feels comfortable enough to cry in front of me- she knows I'll comfort her.  And then we don't have to talk about it, and we can all move on with our lives.

Its important to me that I help people who need it, people who have no choice but cry in front of me.  I may be damn uncomfortable, but that will never stop me from comforting them.  It's only because I understand how terrible it is to be in that position, I understand the feelings that go along with it.  At that point, anyone who gives you comfort is a saint.  And it isn't that I want to be a saint in someone else's eyes- I just want to do the right thing.  I always want to do the right thing.  I'm glad I did the right thing last night.

Its important to me, because I don't want people to feel alone in the world.  I've felt that way before, and it is not a fun feeling.  The world is a scary place enough without feeling like you don't have a friend.

"Travel south until your skin turns warmer
Travel south until your skin turns brown
Put a language in your head and get on a train
And then come back to the one you love'

"Yeah you're great, you're just part of this lifetime of dreaming

That extends to the heart of this long summer feeling"