2004-08-05

Harvard is the bane of my existence

I was finishing the vacuuming in my room yesterday, and my cell phone begins to light up and ring.

�Darrel� was written on the screen next to the number, and picking it up, I heard his voice on the other line.

�Hello love, are you ready? I�ll be there in about twenty-five minutes,� he informs me from the other line.

�Are you in the car?� I ask

�Yes, be ready by the time I get there,� He tells me, before hanging up.

I don�t know, it was around five o�clock in the afternoon, and the sky was a mixture of grey and blue with clouds looming about that looked as if they had been dipped in a glass of sauvign�n bl�nc. Sitting in my backyard, I looked about at the maroon tile floors, the bar area, and I see that the Jacuzzi is covered. Palm trees are everywhere in this neighbourhood of mine, and the summer weather tastes of salt and sea breeze with every breath that one takes. My mother is thumbing through magazines, and speaking to my father, saying things like,

�I want the new room done this way...when you make the blueprint, I want to see it first�

It is amazing that this is one of the few moments I have in this very same house, listening to such things. Remembering earlier days with Brenda and Vicky, or Carlynn, Brittany, and Emily.

Such as the night we played golf on Carlynn�s birthday and Brittany said something like,

�Libet, if you flash the guys in the car next to us...�

At that moment, Mike turns around, and the rest of the four people in Samantha�s SUV are saying something like, �Let�s flash all the old men!� With the exception of Mike, of course. And so, without taking off any garments, we just decide that we would stick our rear-ends out of the window, and Mike starts having a conversation with the varsity football player from Riverview High School whom he played against in this year�s homecoming game, except that this guy is in an SUV filled with girls (cheerleaders, no doubt) as Mike is, and he probably asks Mike something like,

�Damn, Perkins! How many chicks do you have in that car with you?�

Looking around at all of us, Mike smiles and says, �Ooh, I dunno, six?�

The old men that were in the car next to us are getting annoyed with all of us and give us this hateful glare, muttering something like, �damned teenagers�. Although, now that I think about it, he did have the right, seeing as how Carlynn was nice enough to yell out the window to his wife, (and I do quote) �show me your fucking tits!�

The other football player did not know that all of us girls in the car had our own boyfriends who did not know of this particular night�s escapade. Remembering what I had told my boyfriend when he asked,

�So babe, what did you do last night?�

�Oh, I just played golf with Carlynn and a few others, quite...um, nice.� And so he shrugged and left it at that.

I am woken up from this flashback when I suddenly get a text message on my cell phone from Fel�pe.

�hey girl, back in Spain safely. I had a wonderful time in Florida, and I read your damned diary on the plane. I don�t care much for apologizing for anything else, but I�m sorry I hurt you, sweetheart. Love, his majesty.�

This makes me laugh, and immediately, I text him saying,

�bastard, so you are capable of feeling�

Now Darrel is at my house and I get in the car. We go to have dinner before watching a movie and whilst we are walking around downtown, I start looking at everything and remembering the details of my relationship, which ended but two months ago. Everything seems quiet despite that it�s peppered with people walking their dogs, old men smoking and reading the newspaper, people reading and drinking their San Pellegrinos, and us, walking along and talking.

I cannot recall the exact details of our conversation, because my heart was twisting and turning and doing something odd as I was remembering this past relationship of mine. Yet, I managed to tell him that I am indeed moving to New York in a year�s time, and I told him that all of the colleges are sending me their applications. I told him of NYU, Rochester, Georgetown, etc. etc. and explained my hesitance to even sit down and look at these applications because I have a fear in applying for college now.

�You have the GPA...hell, you have a great academic life� he tells me

�But it�s not suitable for Harvard, or Georgetown� I respond

�You haven�t applied yet, how do you know?�

I keep quiet at this, and I am getting tired of so many people suggesting that I should apply to Harvard. They assume that I will, and I despise getting questions like,

�So, is Harvard your first choice?�

I go on telling him about my father�s insisting, that like he, I study mathematics or civil engineering. I also tell him that neither of my parents even know that I write, and in fact, it is just recently that my friends are starting to notice that I do these things.

I start telling him that I want to stop writing for three weeks, or at least make the attempt at it.

�Why would you stop? It�s what you run home to--the comfort of knowing that you can put a few words down on paper.� He begins.

�I�m not stopping completely,� I say, �I just need a break...a pause�

�Did something happen?� He asks

I shrug.

�Do you think while you write?� He inquires

�What?�

�Do you think?� He asks once more

�Yes�

�Don�t�

�What?�

�Just write, damn you. Even if it is the silliest thing �I like green eggs and ham� it�s what you feel, so write it. Critics are just critics, but I should be hanged if I let criticism destroy me. Let people say whatever they wish, wipe your rear-end with their words.�

After having dinner, doing a bit of book shopping, and watching the movie in the theatre, he takes me home. I put in the CD that I purchased containing Beethoven�s complete cello and piano sonatas (hoping that it would contain my absolute favourite, Moonlight Sonata) I heave a deep sigh and pick up my cell phone. I hit the �send new� button and send Darrel a text message:

�Currently wiping�

About ten minutes later his message is

�Currently very proud.�

aeka at 12:59 p.m.