Friday
Jul242009
exactly as it should be. i think...

i've already admitted that i watch THE FASHION SHOW on Bravo obsessively. I've already talked about my personal investment in the show, because I'm not sure if I'm more the 22 year old ingenue that's fresh out of the gates and bursting with everything, or the 35 year old designer that's weathered and tough and at the top of her game because she's had to struggle for it.
i worried that watching the 22 year old win would be like the universe saying "it wasn't a matter of gaining life experience. you weren't good enough, she obviously is. game over" and that would be the end of it. i felt like maybe, just maybe, her getting a competition handed to her would be a cosmic put down to me.
and yet watching the 35 year old win would reinforce the sad fact that i've got a long time to wait.
the 35 year old won. to be honest, i liked her collection better. she did better work. i'm really happy for her. and the 22 year got a consolation prize and a ton of connections in the real world.
here's the thing, where the conversation veers back into narcissism. to the universe, please, please don't make me wait just because you know i will. it's not fair. i'm broke and confused in every aspect of my life except this one thing, except this vital heart throb, and i won't give it up, not ever. now please don't be a five year old and make me prove it, because the same thing will be true then that is now. i won't give it up, not ever. i'll just be more broke, still living with my mother, and possibly referred to as the girl who cried wolf by everyone who knows me because all i do is talk about writing.
its been a tough two years since graduation. kind of like surfing, where you're carried forward irrepressibly on a wave, and then the wave cycles out and you're sucked out a little bit, beyond the surf, and then just pushed onto the beach. grounded. and you have to make your own way to where ever you're going from there because the ocean has done its bit. i've had the heady rush of instant success, the dull pain of rejection after rejection after rejection, and i'm on the long walk. i AM the long walk.
all i'm asking for is a signpost, an indication that i'm going in the right direction and i have a somewhat more than vague hope to accomplish what i set out to accomplish. and until then, i'll keep walking.
i worried that watching the 22 year old win would be like the universe saying "it wasn't a matter of gaining life experience. you weren't good enough, she obviously is. game over" and that would be the end of it. i felt like maybe, just maybe, her getting a competition handed to her would be a cosmic put down to me.
and yet watching the 35 year old win would reinforce the sad fact that i've got a long time to wait.
the 35 year old won. to be honest, i liked her collection better. she did better work. i'm really happy for her. and the 22 year got a consolation prize and a ton of connections in the real world.
here's the thing, where the conversation veers back into narcissism. to the universe, please, please don't make me wait just because you know i will. it's not fair. i'm broke and confused in every aspect of my life except this one thing, except this vital heart throb, and i won't give it up, not ever. now please don't be a five year old and make me prove it, because the same thing will be true then that is now. i won't give it up, not ever. i'll just be more broke, still living with my mother, and possibly referred to as the girl who cried wolf by everyone who knows me because all i do is talk about writing.
its been a tough two years since graduation. kind of like surfing, where you're carried forward irrepressibly on a wave, and then the wave cycles out and you're sucked out a little bit, beyond the surf, and then just pushed onto the beach. grounded. and you have to make your own way to where ever you're going from there because the ocean has done its bit. i've had the heady rush of instant success, the dull pain of rejection after rejection after rejection, and i'm on the long walk. i AM the long walk.
all i'm asking for is a signpost, an indication that i'm going in the right direction and i have a somewhat more than vague hope to accomplish what i set out to accomplish. and until then, i'll keep walking.