Stardust

I'm at home alone for about two weeks. The house has been empty of its other residents since last Saturday, but yesterday was effectively my first day alone. Last night, after a few very minor misfortunes that may or may not have contributed to my mood, I was upset or empty or something, and I just wanted ample distraction, which I couldn't find for a long while. Although I knew I wouldn't be able to read it immediately, I wanted to distract myself with The Perks of Being a Wallflower, a book which has been recommended to me by three different people throughout the years. In my desparation to read it, I ordered it rush from Amazon.

This morning I got up feeling a bit better, and lounged around a bit. Eventually I got an email telling me that the last class I had registered for (which I had been put on a waitlist for) had opened a spot, and I had to register and pay. Registration worked, but dial-up isn't exactly payment friendly, so I had to try two computers and my patience getting the payment completed. At around 1:00 I was nearing the end of this process when I heard a car. I went out to see a UPS guy driving off, and looking around I found a package with Wallflower inside. I took it in and finished up the payment (all registered for now, woo) before opening the book and going to it.

The format of the book is that the main character and narrator is writing letters (anonymously, supposedly with changed names within his story) to somebody he hasn't actually met, but whom he considers by reputation to be a capable and willing listener. It is through these letters that the story is told. The format reminded me a great deal of somebody I once knew, and it occurred to me that the person it reminded me of was the first person who recommended the book to me. It them occurred to me why. In eleventh grade, this young lady was a casual acquaintence among my MySpace friends (like nearly all of my MySpace friends). She's somebody I had known since elementary school, but we didn't really know one another. In any case, one night she posted a bulliten explaining that she was distressed, and she put down some contact information, asking for somebody to talk to. I sent her an anonymous email, and we began talking, me as some unknown friend. It was on account of this relationship that she described Wallflower to me, saying it was one of her favorite books, if not her very favorite. This relationship continued, and I decided and told her that I would reveal myself to her on her birthday in about a week. Unfortunately, unthinkingly I ended an email with my actual name instead of my alias one night, and I was revealed a week early, but it didn't reduce her appreciation of things at all. I don't think we were anything more than casual acquaintances after that, except that maybe there was a little more warmth in our rare casual interactions.

The second recommendation came somewhat recently from Sean, who I believe said the narrator reminded him of me. About a week ago, then, I saw somebody on OKCupid, whose alias attracted me. Sean, seeing the profile, mentioned that the alias was part of a significant line from Wallflower ("And in that moment, I swear, we were infinite"), and when I mentioned this to the guy, he said it was a reference, and he then also recommended the book.

Anyway, so I got it today and began reading it nearly immediately, beginning in the living room. After a time I went to the bathroom, and ended up in my room until the phone rang. I went up to answer it - it was a call for my mother, who is away, of course. I called her and left a message, but then moments later another call came for her, so I called her again with another message. She called back almost immediately, asking what was up, and I relayed the messages again to her directly. She then made as though to talk to me, which I didn't love. Now, it's not to say that I don't love my mother or her company, because I do. However, I also highly value personal time, especially on a day like today, so when she said she'd call in a bit when she was free, I made a noncommital noise resembling "maybe" when she asked whether I'd be home or not. She said she'd call my cell then, which I happened to have left down in my room. I sat down in the living room again rather than going to get it, and I read until I finished the book. It was five hours from start to finish (and when I went down to check my phone, it turns out she hadn't called anyway). I can't say how much the booked moved me or what it meant to me or whether it was hugely moving, but I enjoyed it and am glad I read it. I'm sure a solid appreciation will surface sometime later.

About an hour later, after getting some food in me, I decided to walk to McDonald's to get some Reese's McFlurries. It was about an hour into town, and about an hour back, the hour back portion being largely in dusk. It was relaxing and peaceful and good exercise, and a good time to think about nothing in particular. In ways it was a lot like two years ago in California, when I was caught up with Lawrence, my then-romantic interest. I lived an hour to an hour and twenty minutes from Cogswell by foot. Lawrence lived a half-hour from Cogswell by foot, between the school and me. He would often stay at the school late into the night, and so I would often stay with him until well past the final bus for the night had passed. Similarly, I might sit at the bus stop and let busses pass, hoping I'd see him on his way home. On very lucky nights I'd get to go spend some time with him at his appartment. In any case, I would often walk long hours home in the night. Alternatively, while not sleeping on account of thinking about him, I'd make forty minute trips to Denny's, or hour trips to In-N-Out in the late night. The significant difference between then and tonight was that there are trees here instead of buildings, it's much more humid, and the valley is all flat, whereas the road into town is winding, with lots of ups and downs. Tonight was as devoid of stars as the city, though, there because of light pollution and here because of an overcast sky. At least my walk home featured lots of fireflies.

So now I'm home, and maybe I'll go to bed soon if I can't find something to do. I did manage to distract myself a lot today, which was nice. The next concrete things I have to look forward to is a visit with Sean on Saturday. I'll have to discover something to do with myself between now and then. In the meantime, enjoy your life.

(Fun fact: I'm wearing jeans which, in faded ink, read "MNDSSR" over the right knee. I wrote that there in eleventh grade, on one of the last days of my first psych class. It stands for "MVSICA NON DVRAT SED SEMPER REDIT," which, by my then-poor and now-hideous Latin skills, was an original phrase supposed to translate as "the music doesn't last, but it always returns." That might be pretty inspiring, but the real take-away is that I still fit in and wear jeans I wore in eleventh grade. Similarly, I still fit in and sometimes wear a shirt I've had since eighth grade at the latest. Good times.)