saint-louise's Diaryland Diary
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Well, I�m the Alpha, at least. Sort�of�
I�ve made one change of attitude lately. Please note that this does not mean that I am less prone to:
a) Slacking off for a couple of hours and then, in a bout of explosive guilt, digging myself into a mode of productivity that eventually leaves me staring glassy-eyed at my monitor and realizing I haven�t eaten or relieved myself for six hours.
b) Getting hostile at the drop of a hat. Those dropping hats are bastards.
OR
c) Taking an overall realistic (read: pessimistic) outlook upon life. This could be due to an honestly stubborn refusal to believe that things are/could be better, based on my �wretched� life experiences or at least a shitload of whinyass self-pity. Or this could be because I�m too lazy to be cheerful. I�m opting for the latter.
But I have consciously changed my ways regarding one aspect of my personality: I decided that I will not treat everything that was bad or embarrassing about my childhood with reckless contempt before I�ve had a chance to examine it thoroughly from an adult perspective.
This decision took an interesting turn three weeks ago when I received a notice from my college in the mail. I was eligible to be inducted into a chapter of Alpha Chi, an honor society for undergraduate juniors and seniors in the top 10% of their class.
I snorted, involuntarily, and went immediately for the shredder. OH looked up at my sound of disgust. �What�s that?�
I explained to him what the letter was about. �And I have to pay a membership fee. I�m so not going to waste money to join a Who�s Who For Nerds.�
�I wouldn�t throw it away just yet if I were you,� OH said, coming over to take the letter from me. �This could be a good thing.�
He glanced over the letter while I looked at him, skeptically. Suspiciously. This look was inhibited by my inability to raise one eyebrow, so I�m sure I looked more constipated than anything. OH shrugged at my Gaze o� the Slow Bowels. �I�m just saying you should look into it more before you throw it away.�
I took the letter back from him, absolutely certain that he wanted me to join a society with Greek letters in its name just so I couldn�t smother him with withering scorn anymore for being an ex-frat boy. See how much I believe in the power of love? It�s all about leveling the playing field, people. It makes the world go �round. Baby. Right �round.
However, I took his advice, and remembered my own vow to go a little easier in attitude toward the events of my past. I had been in NHS in high school, and all that four-year-long memory span brought to the surface in me was a moment of intentional repression, a really good wince, and several hours of a nagging feeling of dread that convinced me I had just done something so mortifying it reached the point of physical debilitation. But I was willing to work to correct that, to dispel my nausea toward the Inherent Nerd in me. After all of these years, She hasn�t gone away. I don�t think She will ever go away. I am most painfully aware of this when I�m reading something I find particularly interesting, and I get the urge to read a snippet of it aloud to anyone nearby who almost assuredly doesn�t give a shit and is also most likely actively trying to escape me.
�I�m talking about specific meter versus flow, here. Restraint or passion, and how they don�t have to be opposites. How amazing when you get both! What? No, I won�t kill you now. But that�s the kind of passion I�m talking about! Well done!�
Repress. Wince. Dread. Rinse. Repeat.
But these were the things that used to be okay with me. Words and the ability to create certain reactions by placing them artfully. The learning process. Looking forward to a career doing something I truly loved, obstacles be damned. These things made me feel good, without worrying what others thought.
And, when I truly think about it, I want to feel good again. I would like to allow myself to be proud of me.
So I submitted my membership fees. And I�ll soon get my Alpha Chi induction groove going.
When I told OH about my decision, he kissed my forehead and smiled at me. �See? I told you once you investigated, you�d see it could be a good thing. Now you can make more money.�
To which I said, dumbly, �What?�
�Honor societies look really good on resumes a lot of the time,� OH said, giving me a look like I was a very small, very stupid child. �Didn�t you know that? I thought you were looking up information on Alpha Chi this whole time.�
I didn�t tell him I was just looking for reasons that I wouldn�t look like a dork. Or that I�d been pushing myself toward soul searching, inner healing, and � when it came right down to it � acting like a complete jackass for no good reason (not that I ever need a really good reason). I think he understood the awe-inspiring depths of my idiocy without me having to say a word, by simply watching my face as it ran through the cycles of: Repress. Wince. Dread.
So much for not looking like a dork, hmm?
11:16 a.m. - 2004-03-02
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