nostalgia

yesterday i was going though it big time. i don't think my pictures from 18th and ashland are going to come back in time (ie, for class on monday) so i was looking through my scrapbook, trying to find the ones ruth took. then i went back to the scrapbook before that, my first one, my senior year through leaving for chicago. looking for pictures of mom's house. instead i found not back to school camp (i'd forgotten about my bare feet obsession then) my 18th birthday (god, i was such a christian then) indoor color guard.... i remember this person so well, but i feel i have so little in common with her now. i was definately feeling like i didn't know who i was then, but i felt like i was heading towards her. and i Do feel like i'm who i'm supposed to be, a fully realized version of myself at this point. but i had no idea that this was who i was aiming towards. in some ways, i think the old caitlin would be in awe and amazement, but other things she would find upsetting. going through scrapbooks and my memory, i was reminded of how important and essential my faith was for me. it seems that shaped so much of who i was then, how can i be the same person now with that piece gone? i have the pictures of church camp, vacation bible school, the kids for christ choir, the program for my commissioning.. it opened up, and i saw the song i picked. that's what i miss most about being a christian. not my ticket to heaven, not my moral guide, not my privilege of prayer, or the comfort of jesus being with me, but the songs. the opertunity once a week to go for free to where my friends were, and we all sang fun songs together. where else in the culture can you do that? i miss singing with others in public. i miss that repitoire. i then went to cook dinner and put godspell on the record player. i thought about going back to church just once to sing, and leaving before the sermon. but really, i think that's a bad idea. church always depresses me. i bumped into the pastor's wife in the grocery store on sunday. we were friendly, which was weird- i suppose being rude would have been wierder. she's like, well, you know we just had easter last week. and i nod, i don't say, actually, i would have missed it if ch and jack hadn't made a big deal out of it. ch bought these cute sequined bunny boxes that he filled with candy for mia and diego. jack crossstiched ch a bookmark- it's rainbow striped with a pink triangle at the top, and crh down the center. truely hideous. i'm trying to find a context, like what great aunt mary makes at pflag meetings in arizona. ch never uses his r. or maybe that's the side of him i don't know- the h is our work relationship, the c is our friendship- but he always makes notes with ch for me. it's so convienent- in the spanish alphabet, it's only one letter, and it is just one sound- the first sound of his first name, and convieniently the initials of his first and last names. crh. crossstiched. sheesh. all i can say is, the sex better be good.

i'm so overwhelmed with work. NOT prepared to fly to new york in a week. i'm going to be painting renderings on the plane. and i MUST do my fucking figures for frances for friday. i'm so sick of drawing- i wanna paint. oh, and i have a paper to write this weekend too. and a little one for stupid theater history. grr. too much work.

still warmish in chicago although it's supposed to break with thunderstorms tonight. no sign of them yet. i wore my burgandy velour buttondown over a tank top today, and now that i'm home i see the velour has bled and i have purple fuzziness in my armpits. it looks like a bruise or strange rash.

my new ear piercing hurts a bit. i asked helen for my medicated soap back, but i don't know when she'll get it too me. i'm fine if i don't bump it or think about it. sleeping has been going better than expected. i have 8 holes in my body now. am comparing the virtues of 8 vs. 10, but until this one heals (august) it will be a moot point.

finished anne lamot's new book. she's really aged gracefully. it makes me happy, as i think getting older is something to fear, but it's totally mellowed her out, and she seems very peaceful. however, this makes less interesting stories than being a alchoholic, bulimic, paranoid, liberal, hilarious, charming hypocondriac. although she's still liberal, hilarious and charming. i wonder what a. thinks. i've always seen them as similar characters, and i'm wondering if she's finding it hopeful as i am, or just harder to relate.

to z- i'm rinsing my dishes. not washing, but at least rinsing.

my PTSD flashbacks of the fire, smelling smoke, etc. seem to have ended for now. i can't discribe how greatful i am. one less thing to worry about.

to jamie- how do i get that fast as i can song out of my HEAD!? "in a strange bed, a strange bed, bedfellows strange." ch just got this prerelease of some russian chick- rowena something- that sounds much like her.

enough! i'm going to read your blogs now.