I have never spent four years in the same school.
I'm not sure why this is the case. Maybe I'm just really bad at choosing schools. Maybe I'm too picky. Maybe I just don't give places enough of a chance. I don't know. What I do know is that, as of Tuesday, September 3rd, I will officially begin my life at Oakland University. Yes, that's right, I'm moving from my tiny little liberal arts college in Maryland to a huge-ass university near my suburb. I'll have three night classes and an online class, which just meshes SO WELL with my job...where I can only get evening and weekend shifts. Oh, and did I mention my fiancee still lives in Maryland...along with a large percentage of my friends?
In short: What in the hell was I thinking?
Well, I was thinking that the Michigan film industry, while it does fluctuate (and recover) like anywhere else, has gotten a lot of attention and money as of late. There are plenty of opportunities for people like me, who want to go into the film industry, right here in my home state. But two years ago I was so focused on getting out, on trying to find freedom somewhere else, that I didn't understand as well as I should have what was going on in my own backyard. (Literally--Real Steel was shot in a gravel pit mere yards from my house. The crew actually knocked out our power a couple of times because the equipment used so much electricity.)
And here's the thing: I'll have a better chance of getting a job in my preferred industry right out of college if I stay here. In fact, some of the students in my chosen major have already been chosen to intern and work on professional sets, which is great news for me because I've been dying to do that since pretty much forever. And that's not the only reason OU is awesome for filmmakers. We have our own filmmakers' guild and our own film festival. I'm psyched. Nervous, yes, but definitely psyched.
But this takes me again to the fact that, yet again, I'm changing the rules halfway through the game. I'm uprooting myself, going to a new place, and basically starting over. Why do I keep doing this to myself? I think it's mostly because of my generally restless attitude towards life. I always want something new. I get bored easily, I tend to move from thing to thing because I like new things and I don't want to let old things go but I forget things sometimes and...yeah. I want to keep moving on--my dream is to travel and never live in one place too long--but at the same time, I want something to last. It's a bit conflicting, to say the least.
So I move on. I move from high school to high school, from college to college, hoping that somewhere I'm going to fit in, somewhere I'm going to say "this is where I should have been all along." I tell my friends that I will miss them, that I love them, that I will try--this time I will try (and this time, I really mean it)--I will try my hardest, I swear, to stay close to them, to stay in touch no matter what. Thank God for Facebook and email; these are my greatest allies in times like this. And I promise that no matter what I will always think of them, that they will always be in my heart, because that's true. And I keep going. Always keep going. Anything that derails me must be dealt with immediately and thoroughly.
I won't write my good-byes here. The people I love have already been written to, and they know they will be missed. My Gamma Sig sisters, my best friends, my fiancee (who knew, almost before I did, that I was going to say yes to this chance)--they know where I am. They know I need to be here. And they know, or at least I desperately hope they do, that this isn't abandonment. I am not saying "Screw you, McDaniel College." I am saying, "McDaniel, I'm so sorry, it's not you, it really isn't you, it's me and my selfish need for the elusive 'something more.'" What I learned at McDaniel is invaluable, and I wouldn't trade my experience there for anything.
But for me, at least, it really is time to move on.
And as one friend wrote on my Facebook farewell/announcement, "It's not 'good-bye,' it's 'see you later.'"
See you later, McDaniel. I'll miss you.
...
Hi, Oakland. Let's get to know each other.
Thursday, August 29, 2013
Tuesday, August 20, 2013
Summer Reading Round-Up
It's that time of year again--that time where I read and read and read, and then proceed to read some more. Great Scott, gadzooks! half my life is reading books...
...Okay, when I start quoting the more obscure bits of Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, I know I've officially read too much. Going along with the Willy Wonka motif, if I read any more I might actually turn into a book.
But I can't help it--I love the library. I love books. I love reading, more than I can ever express. I hate to use the cliche describing books as other worlds, but it's true. When I open a new book, I'm not just a girl reading a new story. I'm an intrepid explorer studying a new landscape, learning a new language. Every author speaks with a different voice. Kerouac, the beauty-hunting soul-searcher, the voice of the weary. F. Scott Fitzgerald, the transcriber of 20's materialism and disintegration of morals, the voice of the cynical. J.K. Rowling, the triumphant woman who inspired a new generation of readers, the voice of hope. Suzanne Collins, the storyteller so skilled at weaving together horror and beauty to create a very possible dystopian future, the voice of determination. Eve Ensler, leader of a movement that refuses to allow women to be shamed for their bodies, the voice of unwavering strength.
So this is my book-review post--if you want to see some of my old ones, go look at my old blog, Alien Water Torture, I did like three or four book-centered, summer reading-type posts. I like new reading material, and I have to imagine I'm not the only ones. So if you, like me, have burned through the classics and are looking for something new to sink your teeth into, look no further--my list reviews are always comprehensive. ;)
IF YOU LIKED: The Lord of the Rings by J.R.R. Tolkien
CHECK OUT: Game of Thrones by George R. R. Martin
I was skeptical about this book, I'll admit. I wrote it off as a fad book, ignored the TV show, resisted the temptation to just peek into it and see what it was about. But once I actually gave into that temptation and started reading, I was hooked. Some of the characters may initially seem like caricatures--Arya is the tomboy princess who wishes she were a warrior; Daenerys is the token virgin married off in exchange for power; Jon is the misunderstood misfit with the heart of gold--but the plot is anything but typical. The sex and violence is plentiful--enough to satisfy a die-hard Clockwork Orange fan, for reference--but it's effective, especially within the context of a plot that has more twists than a Cedar Point roller coaster. If you're looking for princess daydream stories, don't look here--but if you want mystery and fantasy splashed with a dark streak of reality, I'd recommend it. I couldn't put it down.
IF YOU LIKED: A Separate Peace by John Knowles
CHECK OUT: Peace Breaks Out by John Knowles
It's not a direct sequel. It's not even an indirect sequel. It could, I suppose, qualify as a companion piece, but just barely: the events of A Separate Peace are only alluded to once, in context of a death, and the setting is the same...but not really. Devon School seems to be a hotbed of conflict whether in war or peace, and Knowles pulls no punches in his narrative. Yet this book is so underrated, especially in the shadow of A Separate Peace, that whenever I mention it in conversation, people look at me like "You meant A Separate Peace, right?" But Peace Breaks Out is a book with a mind of its own, and if you loved Phineas and Gene, you'll love bright-eyed Nick, devious Wexford, broken Pete, and cynical Eric--and in some cases, you'll love to hate them.
IF YOU LIKED: Harry Potter by J.K. Rowling; Artemis Fowl by Eoin Colfer
CHECK OUT: Percy Jackson and the Olympians by Rick Riordan
This was another one I initially wrote off--a plucky adolescent who's thrown into a supernatural situation? Heard it! But I picked it up on a recommendation, and just the first few pages were enough to get me hooked. Like the HP gang's humor? You'll love Percy Jackson. (Faced with a scaly, lizard-like salesman who introduces himself by announcing, "Hi, I'm Crusty," Percy silently observes Yes, you are.) Sherlock Holmes himself would approve of this kid's razor wit and lightning-quick thinking. Think this book is too young for you if you're past high school? Think again--I'm a rising junior in college and I loved it. Mythology nerds will either love it or hate it. Personally, I think it kicked ass. Just don't read it in the library--you might get in trouble for laughing out loud.
IF YOU LIKED: The S.A.S.S. (Students Across the Seven Seas) series
CHECK OUT: Anna and the French Kiss by Stephanie Perkins
If travel fiction's your thing, look no further. The lead character is funny and relatable--and far more three-dimensional than any character from the S.A.S.S. series--and the characters around her are equally fleshed-out and lovable, they're not just her "props." The love interest is a little too good to be true, but given that this is young adult fiction, that kind of flaw is to be expected and is largely forgivable in the greater context of the book. Best of all, every bit of info about France is 100% accurate. Stereotypes are addressed (like the one about the French wearing designer shoes 24/7) and landmarks are presented in an interesting, non-gimmicky way. Not that I'd use this as a guidebook for preparing for a trip to France--but if you're looking for culturally accurate travel fiction, this is the book I'd recommend.
IF YOU LIKED: Science fiction, particularly of the contemporary variety (think Future Eden)
CHECK OUT: Adaptation by Malinda Lo
I can't even think of the right genre for this book...sci-fi paranormal lesbian coming of age political adventure? Okay, let me put it this way: I've never read anything like it before. It's like The Birds meets The Unbecoming of Mara Dyer (which I'll cover later) meets The Day The Earth Stood Still. Birds are attacking all over the country, and theories of an alien conspiracy abound...and in the middle of all this, a teenage girl survives a deadly accident and falls in love with another girl who may or may not play a role in the bird attacks. The love story is a little random, but in the larger context of the book it's a welcome surprise--especially since it turns the whole girl-falls-for-boy-and-disaster-brings-them-together trope on its ear. The SF thread is interesting, especially since it turns another genre convention on its ear--I can't explain that one without spoiling the book, so you'll have to take my word for it. If you're into the classics (think Michael Creighton, Ray Bradbury, Douglas Adams) I can't make any promises that this will be your cup of tea...but give it a shot anyway; you might be happy you did.
IF YOU LIKED: Paranormal romance (think Impossible by Nancy Werlin, possibly Twilight--sorry, I haven't read much paranormal romance so I don't have much to compare it to)
CHECK OUT: The Unbecoming of Mara Dyer and The Evolution of Mara Dyer by Michelle Hodkin
DISCLAIMER: DO NOT READ THESE AT NIGHT. Unless, of course, you're interested in bad dreams, or the creepy sensation of someone watching you. This is not just paranormal romance. This is paranormal everything. When you first start to read the book it's like, well, this isn't so bad. But then keep reading...and once you figure out what Mara's power is, the shit really hits the fan. Just the thought of this power being in the hands of a teenage girl is enough to turn stomachs. When you figure out why she had to uncover that power in the first place, it's enough to make a person throw up. But you'll keep reading...because you just have to know what happens next. And oddly enough, of the three love/romance stories I've just listed, this one features the most believable love interest, despite being the most far-fetched of plots. But that's just what Michelle Hodkin does: she takes an unbelievable plot and makes it feel eerily real. Given that this is one of the most terrifying books I've ever read, in this context that's both a blessing and a curse.
IF YOU LIKED: The Casual Vacancy by J.K. Rowling
CHECK OUT: Big Trouble by Dave Barry
J.K. Rowling's sense of humor, particularly dark humor, might be unbeatable...but isn't there a saying about if you can't beat 'em, join 'em? Dave Barry's humor is more pointed and frequent, to be sure, but he has the same knack for bringing out the light in a dark situation. And he's got the same talent for creating a plot that has more twists, turns, and surprises than a Cedar Point roller coaster. Comparing The Casual Vacancy to Big Trouble answers the age-old question: What's as awesome as a book about a bunch of British people trying to get their shit together after a huge upheaval? A book about a bunch of Floridians trying to keep their shit together in the middle of a huge upheaval! A variety of humor, sassy police officers, attractive divorcees, drunken security guards, Kias, goats, exasperated hitmen, and mysterious (and hilarious!) Russian bartenders...need I say more? (P.S. This book was made into a movie starring Tim Allen, Zooey Deschanel, Janeane Garofalo, Stanley Tucci, and the late, great Dennis Farina...if that doesn't make you want to read it I don't know what will.)
IF YOU LIKED: My Sister's Keeper by Jodi Piccoult
CHECK OUT: A Quiet Storm by Rachel Howzell Hall
The first time I read this book I didn't cry. I didn't have nightmares. I didn't stop and question everything I'd ever thought I'd known. There was none of that. No dramatics. I didn't throw the book across the room at the ending, like I did when I first read A Separate Peace. I just looked off into space and wondered how and why things like this were allowed to happen. And before you say "But it's fiction!" think about this: Mental illness is a thing...as is the concept of ignoring mental illness for the sake of "looking normal." What made me think of My Sister's Keeper is the concept of two sisters, the older dependent on the younger, but the younger feeling less valued than the older for various reasons. The idea of an illness (in this case mental) tearing a family to pieces. The idea of a family bond stretched to its breaking point. If you're looking for a novel that will take you to the moon and back emotionally, this one will do it. And you will laugh. Hard. And you will cry. Hard. Maybe, like me, you won't cry the first time you read it--but once I understood the story well enough, I couldn't hold back the tears.
...Okay, when I start quoting the more obscure bits of Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, I know I've officially read too much. Going along with the Willy Wonka motif, if I read any more I might actually turn into a book.
But I can't help it--I love the library. I love books. I love reading, more than I can ever express. I hate to use the cliche describing books as other worlds, but it's true. When I open a new book, I'm not just a girl reading a new story. I'm an intrepid explorer studying a new landscape, learning a new language. Every author speaks with a different voice. Kerouac, the beauty-hunting soul-searcher, the voice of the weary. F. Scott Fitzgerald, the transcriber of 20's materialism and disintegration of morals, the voice of the cynical. J.K. Rowling, the triumphant woman who inspired a new generation of readers, the voice of hope. Suzanne Collins, the storyteller so skilled at weaving together horror and beauty to create a very possible dystopian future, the voice of determination. Eve Ensler, leader of a movement that refuses to allow women to be shamed for their bodies, the voice of unwavering strength.
So this is my book-review post--if you want to see some of my old ones, go look at my old blog, Alien Water Torture, I did like three or four book-centered, summer reading-type posts. I like new reading material, and I have to imagine I'm not the only ones. So if you, like me, have burned through the classics and are looking for something new to sink your teeth into, look no further--my list reviews are always comprehensive. ;)
IF YOU LIKED: The Lord of the Rings by J.R.R. Tolkien
CHECK OUT: Game of Thrones by George R. R. Martin
I was skeptical about this book, I'll admit. I wrote it off as a fad book, ignored the TV show, resisted the temptation to just peek into it and see what it was about. But once I actually gave into that temptation and started reading, I was hooked. Some of the characters may initially seem like caricatures--Arya is the tomboy princess who wishes she were a warrior; Daenerys is the token virgin married off in exchange for power; Jon is the misunderstood misfit with the heart of gold--but the plot is anything but typical. The sex and violence is plentiful--enough to satisfy a die-hard Clockwork Orange fan, for reference--but it's effective, especially within the context of a plot that has more twists than a Cedar Point roller coaster. If you're looking for princess daydream stories, don't look here--but if you want mystery and fantasy splashed with a dark streak of reality, I'd recommend it. I couldn't put it down.
IF YOU LIKED: A Separate Peace by John Knowles
CHECK OUT: Peace Breaks Out by John Knowles
It's not a direct sequel. It's not even an indirect sequel. It could, I suppose, qualify as a companion piece, but just barely: the events of A Separate Peace are only alluded to once, in context of a death, and the setting is the same...but not really. Devon School seems to be a hotbed of conflict whether in war or peace, and Knowles pulls no punches in his narrative. Yet this book is so underrated, especially in the shadow of A Separate Peace, that whenever I mention it in conversation, people look at me like "You meant A Separate Peace, right?" But Peace Breaks Out is a book with a mind of its own, and if you loved Phineas and Gene, you'll love bright-eyed Nick, devious Wexford, broken Pete, and cynical Eric--and in some cases, you'll love to hate them.
IF YOU LIKED: Harry Potter by J.K. Rowling; Artemis Fowl by Eoin Colfer
CHECK OUT: Percy Jackson and the Olympians by Rick Riordan
This was another one I initially wrote off--a plucky adolescent who's thrown into a supernatural situation? Heard it! But I picked it up on a recommendation, and just the first few pages were enough to get me hooked. Like the HP gang's humor? You'll love Percy Jackson. (Faced with a scaly, lizard-like salesman who introduces himself by announcing, "Hi, I'm Crusty," Percy silently observes Yes, you are.) Sherlock Holmes himself would approve of this kid's razor wit and lightning-quick thinking. Think this book is too young for you if you're past high school? Think again--I'm a rising junior in college and I loved it. Mythology nerds will either love it or hate it. Personally, I think it kicked ass. Just don't read it in the library--you might get in trouble for laughing out loud.
IF YOU LIKED: The S.A.S.S. (Students Across the Seven Seas) series
CHECK OUT: Anna and the French Kiss by Stephanie Perkins
If travel fiction's your thing, look no further. The lead character is funny and relatable--and far more three-dimensional than any character from the S.A.S.S. series--and the characters around her are equally fleshed-out and lovable, they're not just her "props." The love interest is a little too good to be true, but given that this is young adult fiction, that kind of flaw is to be expected and is largely forgivable in the greater context of the book. Best of all, every bit of info about France is 100% accurate. Stereotypes are addressed (like the one about the French wearing designer shoes 24/7) and landmarks are presented in an interesting, non-gimmicky way. Not that I'd use this as a guidebook for preparing for a trip to France--but if you're looking for culturally accurate travel fiction, this is the book I'd recommend.
IF YOU LIKED: Science fiction, particularly of the contemporary variety (think Future Eden)
CHECK OUT: Adaptation by Malinda Lo
I can't even think of the right genre for this book...sci-fi paranormal lesbian coming of age political adventure? Okay, let me put it this way: I've never read anything like it before. It's like The Birds meets The Unbecoming of Mara Dyer (which I'll cover later) meets The Day The Earth Stood Still. Birds are attacking all over the country, and theories of an alien conspiracy abound...and in the middle of all this, a teenage girl survives a deadly accident and falls in love with another girl who may or may not play a role in the bird attacks. The love story is a little random, but in the larger context of the book it's a welcome surprise--especially since it turns the whole girl-falls-for-boy-and-disaster-brings-them-together trope on its ear. The SF thread is interesting, especially since it turns another genre convention on its ear--I can't explain that one without spoiling the book, so you'll have to take my word for it. If you're into the classics (think Michael Creighton, Ray Bradbury, Douglas Adams) I can't make any promises that this will be your cup of tea...but give it a shot anyway; you might be happy you did.
IF YOU LIKED: Paranormal romance (think Impossible by Nancy Werlin, possibly Twilight--sorry, I haven't read much paranormal romance so I don't have much to compare it to)
CHECK OUT: The Unbecoming of Mara Dyer and The Evolution of Mara Dyer by Michelle Hodkin
DISCLAIMER: DO NOT READ THESE AT NIGHT. Unless, of course, you're interested in bad dreams, or the creepy sensation of someone watching you. This is not just paranormal romance. This is paranormal everything. When you first start to read the book it's like, well, this isn't so bad. But then keep reading...and once you figure out what Mara's power is, the shit really hits the fan. Just the thought of this power being in the hands of a teenage girl is enough to turn stomachs. When you figure out why she had to uncover that power in the first place, it's enough to make a person throw up. But you'll keep reading...because you just have to know what happens next. And oddly enough, of the three love/romance stories I've just listed, this one features the most believable love interest, despite being the most far-fetched of plots. But that's just what Michelle Hodkin does: she takes an unbelievable plot and makes it feel eerily real. Given that this is one of the most terrifying books I've ever read, in this context that's both a blessing and a curse.
IF YOU LIKED: The Casual Vacancy by J.K. Rowling
CHECK OUT: Big Trouble by Dave Barry
J.K. Rowling's sense of humor, particularly dark humor, might be unbeatable...but isn't there a saying about if you can't beat 'em, join 'em? Dave Barry's humor is more pointed and frequent, to be sure, but he has the same knack for bringing out the light in a dark situation. And he's got the same talent for creating a plot that has more twists, turns, and surprises than a Cedar Point roller coaster. Comparing The Casual Vacancy to Big Trouble answers the age-old question: What's as awesome as a book about a bunch of British people trying to get their shit together after a huge upheaval? A book about a bunch of Floridians trying to keep their shit together in the middle of a huge upheaval! A variety of humor, sassy police officers, attractive divorcees, drunken security guards, Kias, goats, exasperated hitmen, and mysterious (and hilarious!) Russian bartenders...need I say more? (P.S. This book was made into a movie starring Tim Allen, Zooey Deschanel, Janeane Garofalo, Stanley Tucci, and the late, great Dennis Farina...if that doesn't make you want to read it I don't know what will.)
IF YOU LIKED: My Sister's Keeper by Jodi Piccoult
CHECK OUT: A Quiet Storm by Rachel Howzell Hall
The first time I read this book I didn't cry. I didn't have nightmares. I didn't stop and question everything I'd ever thought I'd known. There was none of that. No dramatics. I didn't throw the book across the room at the ending, like I did when I first read A Separate Peace. I just looked off into space and wondered how and why things like this were allowed to happen. And before you say "But it's fiction!" think about this: Mental illness is a thing...as is the concept of ignoring mental illness for the sake of "looking normal." What made me think of My Sister's Keeper is the concept of two sisters, the older dependent on the younger, but the younger feeling less valued than the older for various reasons. The idea of an illness (in this case mental) tearing a family to pieces. The idea of a family bond stretched to its breaking point. If you're looking for a novel that will take you to the moon and back emotionally, this one will do it. And you will laugh. Hard. And you will cry. Hard. Maybe, like me, you won't cry the first time you read it--but once I understood the story well enough, I couldn't hold back the tears.
Tuesday, August 6, 2013
Freeze Frame
August 6, 2013, the most terrifying day of my life.
The light turns green.
A white car, make and model unknown, makes violent contact with the side of my little red sedan, going at least 40 miles per hour.
The crunch can be heard at least ten yards away. The force is enough to turn me back into oncoming traffic Out of the corner of my eye, I see the airbags on my fiancee's side deploy. I think I scream before the cars actually make contact, but later all I will remember is that even as I sobbed hysterically, I could tell Ella our exact location, so she could relay this information to the 911 operator.
In the seconds following the collision my thoughts are, as follows:
The next half-hour of my life is the worst. Bar none. A man who witnessed the collision, comes to my window. Automatically, I roll it down. I can't remember how my finger finds the button; right now I don't think I can remember my own last name. I can't stop crying. The heavy rain just keeps falling, falling, it won't stop, my tears won't stop, between the rain and my own tears I'm soaked and I can't breathe. He asks if we're okay and I say not really, no one is hurt, but I don't know what to do. My mom, I tell him, my mom doesn't know I've been in an accident, my mom will be so afraid when she hears. He asks if we're physically all right and I say yes.
I realize that we should call for help. My fiancee does, because I'm too hysterical to form a sentence that doesn't begin with the words "my mom." The 911 operator tells Ella to have me get to the side of the road so we're not obstructing traffic. I manage to get my car to the side of the road, completing the turn I was starting when we collided. The first words out of my hyperventilating, sobbing mouth when we stop are, "Oh my God, oh my God, my mom, I need to call my mom, I can't call her, she's going to be so scared and there's nothing she can do."
Crash witnesses attempt to calm me down. My heart won't stop pounding. Ella lets me grip her hand. I can't stop crying, the pain is too real. I almost wish I were physically hurt, because if I were, I could concentrate on that instead of the heartbreaking agony of knowing that in a few moments, I will have to call my mother and tell her one of the worst things a parent can hear: "Mom, I've been in an accident." I can't tell her, I can't tell her, but I have to.
At some point the focus shifts to Ella, I ask her another thousand times if she's okay. A policeman comes to my window and asks for our licenses and papers. I can't stop crying, I will never, as far as I know, be able to stop crying again. My worst fear is that I have killed someone. "Are they okay, the other driver, is she--is he--okay?" I ask, and the officer says that as far as he knows, they are. I breathe a little easier; as far as I can tell, I am not a murderer.
I can't think, I can't pray, I can't even speak properly. All I can say is "This never happens to me, I'm not a terrible driver, I wasn't even playing with the radio, I wasn't on my phone, how did I get into an accident?" Ella tries to soothe me, to no avail. All that I know is that my mom has to know, she can't find out on the news--oh God what if I'm on the news?--and she can't see the tow truck--or, God forbid, ambulance--pull up in front of our house and not know until then what's happened.
I call her.
She will be mad, I vaguely hear the officer tell me. It's a given, she'll be angry, but I think she'll just want to know you're safe, first and foremost.
I tell her, and she is strangely calm. Later, she will tell me that as soon as she saw the rain and heard her phone ring, as soon as she saw it was me, she knew. She asks, several times, "Are you okay? Is Ella okay?" and I tell her, over and over again, "Yes, we're okay. We aren't hurt. There are no physical injuries." We hang up when the ambulance arrives. The EMTs check us over and pronounce us all right. Can we turn our heads, did we hit our heads, did the airbag hurt Ella, did the door crush her, am I seeing spots. No, no, no, no. We are fine, physically, but my heart won't stop pounding. It's adrenaline, they say. I'll be fine.
What is a much, much bigger relief than hearing that I am all right is hearing that Ella is all right--and hearing that the occupant (occupants?--I still don't know) of the other car are all right.
No one, thank God, needs to go to the hospital.
I see the damage and nearly pass out. This, I realize, is going to cost us. There is no way I will ever be able to pay my mother back for this, I don't care if our insurance covers it, I am responsible. In my head I begin to calculate how much I'll have to save to pay for the deductible, the rising cost, the repairs. I want to pass out. I want to run to my mom. I want to go home. I want to collapse in the wet grass and cry until I completely dehydrate myself.
Instead, I stay standing. I call my mom again and again, keeping her updated bit by bit until the full story emerges. The correct citation is issued, all legal documents are issued, all of our licenses and registrations and proofs of insurance are returned. The tow truck driver gives us a lift home, since my mother cannot come and get us. I weep on and off for the rest of the drive, but still manage to give the truck driver the correct directions. I stagger out of the car, nearly tripping on the back of my skirt, and manage to get myself around the front without falling over the curb.
When I see my mom again it is like I haven't seen her for ages. I run to her, crying all over again. She holds me close for a moment and then tells me to go inside, she'll see that the car is taken care of. I stumble into the garage, then into the house. I can't process everything that has happened. My makeup is streaked down my face. I can't stop crying. I can't think straight. All I can think of is how much I've ruined.
Yesterday my father won the first race of the Thistle Sailboat Nationals. Now he might have to come home. I've ruined this for him. I have wrecked our car, cost us a ton of money, might even get us sued. I cry and cry and cry. My mother comes in and holds me, tells me, "The car is a thing, it can be replaced. You and Ella can't. You are alive, and that is all that matters.
This is when it hits me: The car hit Ella's side, if it weren't for the airbag, if it weren't for the safety features, if that driver had even gone a little faster, if I'd gone faster, if I hadn't stopped when I did...if it hadn't been for a myriad of circumstances, the woman I love would be dead.
I collapse into her arms. "I almost killed you," I cry, and she holds me and whispers "Shh--shh," until I can breathe again. I bounce between her and my mom--well, stagger between her and my mom--until we are herded into the living room and sit down. I can't let go of either of them. I almost lost them both. I have hurt them both. I can't believe what has happened today. Nothing even seems real.
Only one fact stands out: My mother is not angry. She is not going to yell, or tell me how horrible I am, what a waste I am, or that if it wasn't for me we could have so many new things that we can't have now because we're paying to fix my mistakes. I call my dad to tell him I am okay, and he tells me much the same thing. "I ruined your week," I blurt out. "I'm so sorry--you'd just won Nationals--" and he tells me it's okay, that my life is more important to him than a sailboat race. I hang up and cry some more.
Later, after he has made the multi-hour drive home to see, in person, that I'm all right, my dad comes into my room and holds me close. I tell him the full story. He stays quiet, then holds me tightly again, kisses me goodnight, tells me to sleep. I know I will not sleep tonight. Ella has already passed out, worn-out from the excitement and the Nyquil she took for her allergy-like symptoms. I know I will not sleep tonight. My parents will, my fiancee will. I know I won't.
Tomorrow I will hug them all extra-tightly and tell them that I will always love them. Tomorrow I will tell them how much they mean to me. I could have died today. I could have killed someone today. But I didn't, and I can't keep telling myself that because of one mistake I am worthless. I have to keep going. Hug my family when I see them in the morning. Kiss my parents just because they're there and I can. Tell them I love them, every opportunity I get. Thank them again and again, just for being there and for being mine, for loving me and protecting me every step of the way. Show them how much I appreciate their existence and their support. Kiss my love on the mouth, peeping eyes be damned, hold her hand and let her know she is loved. Plan our wedding, show her my hometown, ask her to dance.
I could have died today. What I can't do, what I will not allow myself to do, is use that as an excuse to stop living.
The light turns green.
A white car, make and model unknown, makes violent contact with the side of my little red sedan, going at least 40 miles per hour.
The crunch can be heard at least ten yards away. The force is enough to turn me back into oncoming traffic Out of the corner of my eye, I see the airbags on my fiancee's side deploy. I think I scream before the cars actually make contact, but later all I will remember is that even as I sobbed hysterically, I could tell Ella our exact location, so she could relay this information to the 911 operator.
In the seconds following the collision my thoughts are, as follows:
1) Am I alive? (Yes.)
2) Is Ella okay? (Yes, she is.)
3) How can I tell my mom, she's home alone and can't come to me, she will absolutely die.
The next half-hour of my life is the worst. Bar none. A man who witnessed the collision, comes to my window. Automatically, I roll it down. I can't remember how my finger finds the button; right now I don't think I can remember my own last name. I can't stop crying. The heavy rain just keeps falling, falling, it won't stop, my tears won't stop, between the rain and my own tears I'm soaked and I can't breathe. He asks if we're okay and I say not really, no one is hurt, but I don't know what to do. My mom, I tell him, my mom doesn't know I've been in an accident, my mom will be so afraid when she hears. He asks if we're physically all right and I say yes.
I realize that we should call for help. My fiancee does, because I'm too hysterical to form a sentence that doesn't begin with the words "my mom." The 911 operator tells Ella to have me get to the side of the road so we're not obstructing traffic. I manage to get my car to the side of the road, completing the turn I was starting when we collided. The first words out of my hyperventilating, sobbing mouth when we stop are, "Oh my God, oh my God, my mom, I need to call my mom, I can't call her, she's going to be so scared and there's nothing she can do."
Crash witnesses attempt to calm me down. My heart won't stop pounding. Ella lets me grip her hand. I can't stop crying, the pain is too real. I almost wish I were physically hurt, because if I were, I could concentrate on that instead of the heartbreaking agony of knowing that in a few moments, I will have to call my mother and tell her one of the worst things a parent can hear: "Mom, I've been in an accident." I can't tell her, I can't tell her, but I have to.
At some point the focus shifts to Ella, I ask her another thousand times if she's okay. A policeman comes to my window and asks for our licenses and papers. I can't stop crying, I will never, as far as I know, be able to stop crying again. My worst fear is that I have killed someone. "Are they okay, the other driver, is she--is he--okay?" I ask, and the officer says that as far as he knows, they are. I breathe a little easier; as far as I can tell, I am not a murderer.
I can't think, I can't pray, I can't even speak properly. All I can say is "This never happens to me, I'm not a terrible driver, I wasn't even playing with the radio, I wasn't on my phone, how did I get into an accident?" Ella tries to soothe me, to no avail. All that I know is that my mom has to know, she can't find out on the news--oh God what if I'm on the news?--and she can't see the tow truck--or, God forbid, ambulance--pull up in front of our house and not know until then what's happened.
I call her.
She will be mad, I vaguely hear the officer tell me. It's a given, she'll be angry, but I think she'll just want to know you're safe, first and foremost.
I tell her, and she is strangely calm. Later, she will tell me that as soon as she saw the rain and heard her phone ring, as soon as she saw it was me, she knew. She asks, several times, "Are you okay? Is Ella okay?" and I tell her, over and over again, "Yes, we're okay. We aren't hurt. There are no physical injuries." We hang up when the ambulance arrives. The EMTs check us over and pronounce us all right. Can we turn our heads, did we hit our heads, did the airbag hurt Ella, did the door crush her, am I seeing spots. No, no, no, no. We are fine, physically, but my heart won't stop pounding. It's adrenaline, they say. I'll be fine.
What is a much, much bigger relief than hearing that I am all right is hearing that Ella is all right--and hearing that the occupant (occupants?--I still don't know) of the other car are all right.
No one, thank God, needs to go to the hospital.
I see the damage and nearly pass out. This, I realize, is going to cost us. There is no way I will ever be able to pay my mother back for this, I don't care if our insurance covers it, I am responsible. In my head I begin to calculate how much I'll have to save to pay for the deductible, the rising cost, the repairs. I want to pass out. I want to run to my mom. I want to go home. I want to collapse in the wet grass and cry until I completely dehydrate myself.
Instead, I stay standing. I call my mom again and again, keeping her updated bit by bit until the full story emerges. The correct citation is issued, all legal documents are issued, all of our licenses and registrations and proofs of insurance are returned. The tow truck driver gives us a lift home, since my mother cannot come and get us. I weep on and off for the rest of the drive, but still manage to give the truck driver the correct directions. I stagger out of the car, nearly tripping on the back of my skirt, and manage to get myself around the front without falling over the curb.
When I see my mom again it is like I haven't seen her for ages. I run to her, crying all over again. She holds me close for a moment and then tells me to go inside, she'll see that the car is taken care of. I stumble into the garage, then into the house. I can't process everything that has happened. My makeup is streaked down my face. I can't stop crying. I can't think straight. All I can think of is how much I've ruined.
Yesterday my father won the first race of the Thistle Sailboat Nationals. Now he might have to come home. I've ruined this for him. I have wrecked our car, cost us a ton of money, might even get us sued. I cry and cry and cry. My mother comes in and holds me, tells me, "The car is a thing, it can be replaced. You and Ella can't. You are alive, and that is all that matters.
This is when it hits me: The car hit Ella's side, if it weren't for the airbag, if it weren't for the safety features, if that driver had even gone a little faster, if I'd gone faster, if I hadn't stopped when I did...if it hadn't been for a myriad of circumstances, the woman I love would be dead.
I collapse into her arms. "I almost killed you," I cry, and she holds me and whispers "Shh--shh," until I can breathe again. I bounce between her and my mom--well, stagger between her and my mom--until we are herded into the living room and sit down. I can't let go of either of them. I almost lost them both. I have hurt them both. I can't believe what has happened today. Nothing even seems real.
Only one fact stands out: My mother is not angry. She is not going to yell, or tell me how horrible I am, what a waste I am, or that if it wasn't for me we could have so many new things that we can't have now because we're paying to fix my mistakes. I call my dad to tell him I am okay, and he tells me much the same thing. "I ruined your week," I blurt out. "I'm so sorry--you'd just won Nationals--" and he tells me it's okay, that my life is more important to him than a sailboat race. I hang up and cry some more.
Later, after he has made the multi-hour drive home to see, in person, that I'm all right, my dad comes into my room and holds me close. I tell him the full story. He stays quiet, then holds me tightly again, kisses me goodnight, tells me to sleep. I know I will not sleep tonight. Ella has already passed out, worn-out from the excitement and the Nyquil she took for her allergy-like symptoms. I know I will not sleep tonight. My parents will, my fiancee will. I know I won't.
Tomorrow I will hug them all extra-tightly and tell them that I will always love them. Tomorrow I will tell them how much they mean to me. I could have died today. I could have killed someone today. But I didn't, and I can't keep telling myself that because of one mistake I am worthless. I have to keep going. Hug my family when I see them in the morning. Kiss my parents just because they're there and I can. Tell them I love them, every opportunity I get. Thank them again and again, just for being there and for being mine, for loving me and protecting me every step of the way. Show them how much I appreciate their existence and their support. Kiss my love on the mouth, peeping eyes be damned, hold her hand and let her know she is loved. Plan our wedding, show her my hometown, ask her to dance.
I could have died today. What I can't do, what I will not allow myself to do, is use that as an excuse to stop living.
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