I realize that it's been almost exactly a month since I wrote here, and almost a month since my cat has passed away. I didn't really realize until last night that there had sort of been an event that assisted in the cause of my July hiatus. In the days immediately following June 30th, I toyed with ideas of how to write about what had happened, but ultimately couldn't come up with anything I liked and then realized that what had happened wasn't really anything I needed to share with the greater public. That being said, July has been rather mundane, consisting of work, and only one sunburn.
My only true realization for the month (which is sad I know that there is only one) concerns friendships. As August is fast approaching, and my senior year of college is imminent, I feel as if I'm sifting through my bucket of sand that includes anyone I once deemed friend, and the sand is soft and fine, from the tropics, and only one or two shells are staying in that sieve, one or two true friends who will be around when we all disperse. I've had two friends as of late that I can't help but question whether all of the effort, or any of the hurt is worth it. I've got a best friend that means the world to me, and it's hard to keep friends around who don't remotely live up to her loyalty and truthful companionship. I know that I can be quite bad when it comes to keeping in contact with others, people part ways and become busy, but it's another thing when I question motives and intentions, when whether your personality is boring or not has nothing to do with it; when values and integrity come into play. And unfortunately, in my non-empathetic ways, I just don't know if I have the time for it, or if I just need to let things breathe and come back to them in awhile. I'm about to live with three pretty cool girls, the first time I've known my roommates, and I'm pretty excited for what is to come, and the friendships that I hope to make. Yet, I still can't decide if burning bridges is the path I'm supposed to take.
I've gotten a lot of reading done, and am loving the romance novels I've read (thank you Dr. Regis) for my Romance Fiction class in the fall. I'm balancing it all out with some David Sedaris and the top 50 profiles in the last ten years from the latest issue of The New Yorker. Writing feels good, and by the end of this post, I'm wondering why I stopped for a bit, but I'm a firm believer in writing when lightning strikes, not everyday like a chore (even though I know that if I exercised my writing muscle, my inspirations would come aplenty and be more fruitful), but I'm hoping to get my English major nerd on some more (with a bit of knitting) when I'm bed ridden from surgery next week, so ya'll should hear form me then, if not before!
My only true realization for the month (which is sad I know that there is only one) concerns friendships. As August is fast approaching, and my senior year of college is imminent, I feel as if I'm sifting through my bucket of sand that includes anyone I once deemed friend, and the sand is soft and fine, from the tropics, and only one or two shells are staying in that sieve, one or two true friends who will be around when we all disperse. I've had two friends as of late that I can't help but question whether all of the effort, or any of the hurt is worth it. I've got a best friend that means the world to me, and it's hard to keep friends around who don't remotely live up to her loyalty and truthful companionship. I know that I can be quite bad when it comes to keeping in contact with others, people part ways and become busy, but it's another thing when I question motives and intentions, when whether your personality is boring or not has nothing to do with it; when values and integrity come into play. And unfortunately, in my non-empathetic ways, I just don't know if I have the time for it, or if I just need to let things breathe and come back to them in awhile. I'm about to live with three pretty cool girls, the first time I've known my roommates, and I'm pretty excited for what is to come, and the friendships that I hope to make. Yet, I still can't decide if burning bridges is the path I'm supposed to take.
I've gotten a lot of reading done, and am loving the romance novels I've read (thank you Dr. Regis) for my Romance Fiction class in the fall. I'm balancing it all out with some David Sedaris and the top 50 profiles in the last ten years from the latest issue of The New Yorker. Writing feels good, and by the end of this post, I'm wondering why I stopped for a bit, but I'm a firm believer in writing when lightning strikes, not everyday like a chore (even though I know that if I exercised my writing muscle, my inspirations would come aplenty and be more fruitful), but I'm hoping to get my English major nerd on some more (with a bit of knitting) when I'm bed ridden from surgery next week, so ya'll should hear form me then, if not before!
