Something gets scary someone runs like hell

"You dyed your eyebrows! You're not supposed to dye yr eyebrows!" Mum yelled thru the phone.
"Ma, it's not that big a deal," I said. "They're not so thick it'll matter."
"You made yr eyebrows thin again! Dammit, they were looking so nice. Why did you do that?"
"Jesus Ma, it's no big deal it's just hair. It grows. And my eyebrows are no thinner than the last time you saw me. Calm down-you're a little over amped there."
"You just looked so pretty when I saw you."
Except for being heavy. I could stand to lose a few pounds. Tho at the moment I am hovering comfortably between starving and "are you sure you need that candy bar"?
I would like to think I still look pretty as I ever have. Strange gold red hair and slightly unnatural eyebrows notwhitstanding. When I look in the mirror I see a fairly normal looking person.This is mostly because I was afraid of what would happen if I tried the flaming red-the kind of red usually attributed to Corvettes and brand new Converse All Stars.
The haircolor change is the result of a minor nervous breakdown in which I tried to dye my hair blonde. The box had a blonde chick on it. The color was called "Lightest Golden Blonde" I think God was helping me out by not rendering me in possession of the color on the box. I'd look like a freak. The last time I was a blonde was not pretty-in fact whatever the antithesis of pretty is that's what I was when I had such light hair.

The drive to school made me tense as hell. I realized as I listened to my CD of songs that I thought were uplifting rocking songs of like life and getting down that the CD was in fact the most depressing collection of music short of the all Gloomy Sunday disc I've been wanting to put out. At one point I was in tears-that's not good when driving. What made me cry you wonder? "You got to admit that life is pretty great, but can you admit it's killing us?" Something about that just made me very aware of how easy it would be to drive my car into a concrete railing and how little I wanted to-even when I most want to disappear. Just the sort of thought process a person might enjoy on the way to facing someone that no torture is complete without facing. Such a lighthearted flight of a girl am I.
Well, the contact with DTM (Dead to Me) was painless. We seem to have an understanding-I'm just trying to survive. I want to graduate-nothing else right now. Paperwork properly filled out I went on to the meeting that I assumed would be less painful. But the first meeting wasn't painful-so I figured the second would be uneventful.
I knocked on the door of the only compact space I have ever entered with more meaning infused into a small area than my own apartment. You know how walking into my apartment is packed with ephemera, altars and iconography? How whatever direction you look there's some piece of something that has an important story at least to me? The way in my apartment I can send people looking for a certain piece that can be nearly impossible to find ("Locate my tribute to James Joyce---and GO!")
Multiply that by about 12 and you have an idea what this space is like. It is very comforting. I treasure such places-they have power. Or maybe I just feel like I understand a state of seeming disarray.
ANYWAY-I sat down and we sort of talked about classes and stuff. Basically I admitted to all I had been alluding to when I'd said that I had stopped believing in anything and that I have been busy with being pissed off and bitter. I don't hide my emotions well-heart/sleeve/me.
"I've almost dropped out no less than four times this semester."
"If you do, do it right-come in shake our hands, tell us you're leaving. So if you want to you can come back you can. Don't just disappear and tell no one what you're doing. But it would be a mistake...you're smart. Quirky, but smart, leaving would be a waste."
"I would tell people. I'm still here because I couldn't figure out how to say I was leaving. The thing is, I would've wanted someone to stop me."
There was a small moment when it occured to me, perhaps because I wanted to have the thought, I was being TOLD (like my parents can't/won't do,like my sister won't do, like an adult should not need because that's the opposite of adult hood) I was being told to stay. I need instruction.
For a half hour we basically traded stories. Nothing particularly fascinating-we laughed. I find over and over that laughter means more than a lot of supportive speeches or words of encouragements (or, if not encouragement, declarations of necessity). Laughing is mutual, stories that cause that emotion are shared because of some kind of shared emotion. I have had little chance to laugh recently. Oh-there have been times, but I've felt so damaged recently even happiness seemed unnatural. For some reason-the paperwork and discomfort of the first meeting of the day out of the way-I felt hopeful more than I had in a long time. Freedom's just another word for nothing left to lose.
"So are you mostly thinking about yr comps?"
I can think of nothing but my imminent failure, yes."
"Well, I'm terrified. I'm sure I'm going to fail."
"So you take them again. It's icky, but you do it. And I don't think you will have to." She has more faith in me than have I.
I told her how I had started a new job. "Tell you something, I don't even plan to look for a job in the field if I get out of this. I'm just going to wait tables and not think for 6 months."
"That sounds very reasonable."
What? Reasonable? Are you kidding? No one has told me that sounds reasonable. No one has said anything but-'Do whatever you want' which is more like saying 'God, you're an idiot aren't you?'
I expressed some level of confusion about the acceptance of my fate by another. (I've long since accepted my fate-I'm just not used to other people feeling that way.) "Is the money good?"
"I've heard of $200 days being the norm," I said.
"You know what Folklorist Person said...no probably you don't...she waited tables at a bar for many years, having to drink with the other employees so they wouldn't think she was stuck up."
"I understand that already. I've forgotten how coarse the vernacular is. No one would ever confuse me with someone soft around the edges, but it's coarse, rougher than I am."
"It's rough, and hard, but she (the folklorist) said she was teaching for four years at least before she made as much money as she did waiting tables." Inside, I died a little, because I know that's the truth of my situation. "It's a good way to gain perspective, and a good way to get out of debt."
Sometimes, when I open up at all, I am afraid that people will judge me in a negative way. I'm usually pretty sure I warrant negative judgement. When the reality that few people want to cast blame upon me comes to light I realize that I am less important than my personal narrative would indicate. There are other people in the world.
There were several moments, the sort of times when people sort of leave their persona and become innocent, that amused me. Mostly they involved finding men attractive-which I do, very much, despite whatever I say-men are lovely.
"There was some debate-which is the better film-Walk the Line or Coal Miner's Daughter. I think Coal Miner's Daughter ist the best filming of a biography made until now but some people claim Walk the Line is better. But then Coal Miner's Daughter has Tommy Lee Jones" (I look out towards a space on the wall and sigh...the other person in the conversation looks at another space on the wall and sighs simultaneously.)
"You make a good argument."
We discussed my schoolwork and made plans. Good plans, the sort that don't cause me to have a major breakdown. I'm very much aware right now that I am well watched out for, even if I don't always feel that way.
"You know, I can't give you two incompletes. You have to believe in something."
I doubted that.
But we came up with a topic. So it's alright.
I'll tell you more later.
Right now I am tired with the reminder that I am part of the human race and that I am being taken care of in odd ways.
It is good when someone cares for another person. It's good and strange to be reminded how natural it is.