Lets Plan A Murder Or Start A Religion

For my third essay for the Naropa University application, I have to write about a "transformative experience", whether it consists of a person, a book, an event, a musician, anything. I was able to come up with the first two essays within about two days, but for some reason I've had a real hard time with this one. Mostly because it's hard for me to narrow down and pinpoint specific dates and people and things that have transformed me in some way. I have all of these things that have influenced me in some way, but I have a hard time conveying how. I wanted to get really specific, too; I didn't want to be vague or general. I wanted to be real specific about an experience and be able to describe my emotions exactly. I wanted it to be an experience that only I could feel, and only I could convey, but also be able to do it in a way that I could get people to connect and feel a part of it. I'm just really picky, ok?

I eventually got over the ridiculous belief that there actually is an emotion and experience that only I could understand and feel. No matter what event I use, no matter what emotions I talk about, someone in this world will have gone through that exact same thing. I don't know why I thought I was so different.

At first I wanted to write about my connection to Catcher in the Rye. So I sat down and started to write. And then I realized that though Catcher in the Rye had changed me, I'd no idea how it had changed me. My connection to that book left me speechless, and I couldn't figure out how to express my love for that book without seeming cliche. The same happened with The Dharma Bums. I just couldn't do it.

I then thought about writing about my friends. I thought it'd be cool to write about the Silly Squad, until I saw how the words "Silly Squad" looked all typed out, and then tossed that idea. I thought about writing about Amanda, and how she's changed my way of thinking. But I knew all my other friends would hate me if I did that, and I've never been very good with writing about people anyway. There's something so intangible about human beings; when you write about them, they never sound as good as they really are. The only person I've really been able to write about is myself, and even that sometimes is a hit and miss.

I thought about writing about Metamorphoses, that gorgeous play that I was in and all the beautiful people I met. But I realized that was almost four years ago, and got really depressed. I wanted something more recent. So then I thought about writing about my time in San Francisco, and how much that changed me, not only physically (hello, black hair and nose ring), but mentally and emotionally and spiritually. But that topic seemed all too general and non-specific; that event happened over a four month period. I wanted something that happened in an instant and then vanished. Something almost magical, but cruel at the same time. Something that can't be expressed through pictures, or any concrete images. Something abstract.

Then I thought about the time here and now, the present, where I am. I am in Ventura. But it's not the same Ventura that I knew. I only left for a short while, but during that time everything changed. The people I hung out with last year either have jobs taking up all their time now, or are merely gone. Or they found new crowds, or they have girlfriends or boyfriends, or some silly thing like that. Some relationships died. Needless to say, it's been hard for me to watch. These people who became so much a part of my life, and that I couldn't live without last year, had gone on, even in my absence. Their lives still progressed and unfolded even when I wasn't there to witness it. It made me feel very small. Until I realized that that was life.

Sometime during high school, I got stuck. I got stuck in a frame of mind, a very childish Peter Pan-like frame of mind. I did not want to grow up. Subconsciously I knew this, though internally I fought it. I immersed myself in theater and art and blamed my flighty ways on the fact that I was "an artist." "Artists" didn't have to answer to society; they could live through T.S. Eliot and Tennessee Williams, and not have to worry about grades and expectations, and the real world. As long as I was an "artist", I was a free spirit. And as a free spirit, I made some lousy choices. None of them had to do with alcohol or drugs, mind you; people seem to think that those are the only things that constitute "lousy choices." No, the major lousy choice I made was that I didn't apply myself.

I thought growing up was just a process, I thought it was just what happened as you got older. I didn't realize it was an actual way of thinking. But being back in Ventura and seeing how all of these things have changed, how life went on without me, it changed my mind about everything. People who are younger than me in years have surpassed me in thought and direction. And that's when I knew it was time to grow up. It's time for me to start being real. I always thought that when you grew up and started to become independent, you would lose sight of freedom and beauty. But then I realized that you only begin to see freedom and beauty when you grow up and become independent. The world really opens up for those who admit their faults and agree to move forward. I always fought against time and change, and I remember having so many reasons to do so. It's funny, though, because now I can't remember what any of those reasons were.

When I came back to Ventura, I thought I was moving backwards. But really, coming back here and getting to witness all that has changed and really getting to soak it all in, it's made me move forward in my ways of thinking. It's natural for people to move forward and change; it's unnatural to fight it. It's the fighting that messes you up, not the actual transformation. So what I'm trying to say is: I get it, World. I get it. I have to grow up. I'm sorry it took me so long to do so. Let me start now by submitting this last essay.

Ain't No Cheese

I felt physically torn between too many places; my emotions were being strewn about in a careless fashion much to my dismay, and hardly due to my willingness. I felt trapped. I felt alone. I felt invisible and smothered at the same time. "HEY!" shouts a bull-headed cowboy in the deep heat of passion. The carelessness stopped as my heart fluttered and then sunk, knowing this cowboy, this love-drenched barbarian, was all too familiar. I've already known him -- I've already been there and experienced those tangled snarls of fury and lust and ignorance. And of course, when his mixed feelings on love and devotion and sentiments became fully apparent in the sad doe eyes of a deer, I ended a yawn with a smirk. I've lived that. I would give anything to keep living it. My eyes wouldn't leave him.
The swarm of emotions I felt came rushing out of me and pumped up my adrenaline to a degree of pure hysteria. Laughter took on a mind of its own as we skipped in cowboy boots across the street to the beats of old tycoons, spewing Southern phrases and crazed guffaws. This absurdity followed us to barstools and fries with forks -- we could not escape.
Still my mind saw the passionate cowboy. I knew him all too well and wondered if he would ever leave. I realized he would...when I let him.

Talking Hair Dye

One of my most favorite things to do is to just drive around with Shane and sing with him while doing so. We perform crowd favorites such as "What I've Been Looking For" from High School Musical, "I Wish I Were In Love Again" from Babes In Arms, and basically whatever lyrics we can understand off his Metro Station CD. It is so much fun. We're usually horribly off-key, and ridiculously annoying, but it is still in my top 10 of things I enjoy most in this world.

I think I met a boy tonight. His name's Brian. I know, I'm ridiculous. I went to this improv show with Toby and Jon at St. Bonaventure's tonight, and it was pretty hilarious. Brian was the MC of the show. I'd seen him before in improv shows down at the Livery Theatre, and I remembered really enjoying his performance even then. He was very charming. I got to meet him after the show and I was of course extremely awkward cuz I wouldn't be Aly Bennett if I wasn't. I told him he was way talented and that I'd seen him at the Livery before. He said thank you, and then I asked him if he was a student at St. Bonnie. He said he used to be, but graduated and now teaches improv at the school. Needless to say, I could definitely relate. He asked me for my name and shook my hand, and I blurted out something that might've sounded like "Nice to meet you" or whatever, and he said the same, and then waved goodbye and walked back into the theater to give his students notes on their performance. I immediately looked at Toby and screamed, "WHAT IS WRONG WITH ME?"

Toby and Jon and I hadn't eaten anything, so we took a brisk walk across the street to this Mexican place I'd never been to. We literally walked in, stared at the menu awkwardly in the doorway, and then walked out. It was incredibly pointless. We walked further down the street to VONS, where I got some sushi, Toby got these chips he wasn't exactly sure he would like and wanted to know if it'd be ok to sample them before buying [I told him it was not], and Jon bought a Dr. Pepper and a bag of chips. We then walked across the parking lot to a Subway, because they had some tables and chairs set up outside. We sat down, and then I decided I needed some water, so I went inside Subway to get a bottle of water. I decided to get a package of sliced apples, too, just cuz it sounded good, and while I was waiting in line with water and apples in hand, this guy gets in line behind me. Toby then stormed in and asked me if he could borrow $2. I told him I'd think about it. He started to plead and I told him to go outside and quit annoying me. Toby left, and I heard the guy behind me chuckle. We stood there for a couple minutes, and then the guy said, "Apples and water, eh?" I looked at him almost stunned and said, "Yeah, I already ate earlier, so this is all I want." He said, "Well, it's healthy!" I laughed a little and then said, "Ha, yeah..." SILENCE. It was one of the most awkward encounters I have ever had. I was like, "Really? Really? Did that conversation really just happen? What the hell was that?" I paid for my apples and water and as soon as I got back outside, I threw $2 at Toby. He went inside, and then came back out and said he needed another dollar, which I also gave to him. Ugh. That kid.

We stayed outside for a little bit until it got freaking cold, then we got a booth inside Subway. We talked about a lot of things: Power Rangers, Jon's jacket being the gateway to Narnia, Jared the Subway guy and his enormous pants, among other things. Jon then left around 9:45. He'd told me earlier that he had a friend at Bonnie who was in the improv group, and could most likely hook me up with that Brian guy. I thought about it the entire night, and then as soon as he left, I texted him and said, "Dude, if you can, hook me up with Brian. Ha ha ha." I made it seem like I was half-kidding, but I really wasn't. He IMMEDIATELY called me back and asked me if I was 100% sure, to which I said yes. I mean, I don't see the harm in it, right? So he apparently called his friend, got some info, and then texted me later telling me said info. Brian is 20 and single. I said "Perfect." Then I proceeded to tell Jon how amazing he is and left it at that.

So there's that. I don't know what will ever come of it, but there it is.

After that, Toby and I went back over to VONS and had far too much fun. No one should ever have that much fun at VONS. We strolled the aisles just looking at shit and saying that's what she said to certain slogans that were posted on signs all around the store. We spent like 15 minutes messing around with those goddam cards that play music when you open them. We looked at all the DVDs they had for sale, and were swept away by a movie entitled "Ice Pirate" or something like that. Then, much to my dismay, Toby took a couple of the boxes of men's hair dye and made them talk to each other. It was pretty gay. He did it again when we walked by the women's hair dye, too. I was so mad.

Then we hit up the alcohol aisle. It was pretty ridic. We read all of the weird names that were on some of the bottles, like "Brut" and "Arrogant Bastard Ale." We actually put together a group of wines all sharing similar characteristics name-wise. They are as follows:

- Beefeater
- Mountain Gay Rum
- Cockburn's
- Gnarly Head
- Knob Creek

We thought we were SO HILARIOUS, and we took pictures of all the alcohol together. Ugh, it was too much fun. We were being such children. Then Shane showed up FINALLY [we'd been trying to hang out with him all night] with his other friend also named Shaine [spelled differently; I swear I'm not making this up], and we drove to In N Out after pretty much witnessing these two guys trying to steal alcohol. Toby said we should tattle, to which I said, "Why spoil their fun? Come on, let's go. They'll get caught." I'm almost certain they did, too.

We got to In N Out and it was PACKED. The line was literally out the door. Apparently a bus full of kids from Thatcher school had decided to stop there. We stood in line for about 2 minutes after Shane asked one of the kids if he knew our friend Cameron, because he goes to Thatcher. The kid knew him, so we said, "Oh...cool...", and then left. It was another pointless entrance into a restaurant. I thought it was weird that we did that twice in one evening.

We decided to go to Carrows. Shane ordered some fries after giving our waitress a Valentine he had leftover, and the other Shaine ordered one Belgium waffle. Toby and I stuck with water and then mooched off Shane's fries when they came. The guys were pretty inappropriate while we were there, and I was almost embarrassed to be sitting with them. We kept getting looks from the other customers [especially the woman sitting behind Shane], because they kept making these high-pitched squeaking sounds. I buried my face in my menu. I freaking love those guys.

We left Carrows at about 12 am, drove Toblerone and Shaine home, and then on the way to my house, Shane and I sang the songs I mentioned earlier at the top of our lungs, over and over again. Another thing I love when I'm with Shane is when he sometimes lets me take the wheel. I remember the first time he let me do that, I freaked out. He was all, "Uhhhhh Aly take the wheel", and then picked up his phone and started to text. I of course had no choice but to do so, so I reached across and grabbed the wheel while screaming and asked him over and over if I was doing ok. He laughed and said, "Yeah, if we want the people behind us to think we're drunk." He showed me how to control it better, and now I love doing it. In fact, I just love driving with Shane in general.

I'm starting to feel a lot better.

We Are Nowhere And It Is Now

I woke up with a start this morning at 6 am. I squinted my eyes as hard as I could, but they rejected sleep. I looked over at my bedroom door and saw a thick glow of light along the bottom edge. My dad was of course awake, and enjoying a hot cup of coffee. I thought about how many years he has gotten up at this same exact time and enjoyed the same exact cup of coffee and the same exact newspaper, and how many times I have slept right through it. Not once have I ever gotten up to join him. But even after this realization, I still didn't feel the need to join him. I wondered about what that meant.

Just then I was cursed with a piercing headache. The middle of my forehead started to swell with pain. I squinted my eyes again, hoping it would go away. It didn't. I reached over the side of my bed to grab the pitcher filled with water, and poured myself a glass. I drank it in one swift gulp and my headache went away. "How silly," I thought.

I sat there staring at my ceiling for a good half hour or so, just listening to what was happening in the house. My mom was now awake and about to take a shower. I could hear the deep rumbling of a Harley Davidson starting up outside our house and knew my dad was just then leaving for work. The dogs started to get restless, disturbed by both the loud motorcycle engine, and the fact that my mom has chosen to get up and go to work today rather than lay in bed with them. My brother was still asleep.

While all of this was happening, I thought about my friends. I thought about the last few days I spent in San Francisco back in December, and how at the time I thought I wasn't going to miss it at all. I smiled to myself as I thought about how I went back to visit less than a month later. I thought about the last couple times I hung out with Amanda before she left for South Africa: our climb up Lone Mountain with all of her belongings in tow [all of which she would eventually lose while en route to South Africa], our trip home on the MegaBus where we almost got left behind in East Jesus Nowhere, and our great snow adventure to Gorman where we flirted with death and laughed about it like we didn't care.

I thought about Jake. I thought about how much he used to mean to me. That's about it.

I thought about the last kiss I had, how bittersweet it was and how guilty we both felt. I have felt trapped in that kiss ever since. I decided it was time for me to get out of that and forget about lost pain. I thought about how it's time for me to grow up. For 3 years, I have been the same age. Physically I have weathered well beyond my years, but mentally I have been 16 since, well, my 16th birthday. I thought about how much everyone else in my world has grown since then, and how the only thing that has changed for me is my hair color. As depressing as that may seem, it was actually a huge relief. For months now I had been wondering what the hell was wrong with me, why everything seemed to be so out of alignment, and now I know what it is.

I don't know what it was that made me wake up this morning so suddenly. Maybe my dad dropped something, maybe a book fell off my bed, maybe I woke up from a nightmare that I can't remember, I don't know. But whatever it was sent me on this sudden rush of thought, and I am forever thankful. I had one of those clear crystallizing moments you only hear about in movies or on TV or in books or plays, where everything suddenly makes sense, and you see everything for what it actually is, not what it was or what it could be. I was in perfect Zen.

And with that last thought, I rolled over with a sigh and feel back asleep.

Hello Again

I haven't heard his voice in 3 months.

Last night, I had a really weird dream. I don't remember much of it except for the end, but I know that in the dream I went mini-golfing with two of my friends. I can't even remember if we had a good time or not, the only thing I remember is that while leaving the mini-golf place, my phone rang. I looked to see who was calling, but it said unknown. So I answered the phone with a puzzled "Hello?", and a teenage boy answered, "Hey."

I instantly woke up. My eyes were wide open. It was him. How do I still know what he sounds like? It was the same goddam inflection and everything. In my dream, I instantly knew who it was and it woke me the hell up. I couldn't go back to sleep after that. It was bad enough hearing him in a dream; what if in one of my dreams I decided to see him, too.

All morning, I couldn't get it out of my head. I kept hearing that "hey" over and over again. My mom and I ran a bunch of errands this morning, and the whole time I just sat in the car and thought about how long it has been since he actually called me. That's when I came up with that 3 month figure. It freaked me out.

There was something else weird that happened, too, connected to this dream: When my eyes blasted wide open after hearing his voice, I had those few seconds where I still thought I was in the dream; I actually thought the phone call had been for real. I eventually realized it hadn't been and then sat there freaking out for like 10 minutes, but for those first few seconds, I really wished he'd called. I'm pretty sure that as I woke up, I either mouthed or actually said, "Hello."

So that definitely threw my day out of whack. I woke up feeling. I woke up with these huge heavy feelings already weighing me down. I tried really hard to wear them off by the end of the day, but as you can see, that didn't work out so well.

Ya know, it was hard enough not having someone who loved me back, but now I don't even have someone to complain about. I'm surrounded by all of these people in relationships who just keep complaining and complaining and complaining about how hard their relationship is, or how "uncaring" their significant other is, or how it's been 3 months since they've done anything sexual, or whatever, and they don't even realize how BLESSED they are to even have someone to just complain about. Oh really? 3 months without doing anything intimate? Try going 3 months without even hearing the voice of the person you shared your entire life with. Try waking up one day and realizing that entire part of you is gone. I'm at a point where I would love it even if he called me up just to fight with me. I would give anything to be sitting here complaining about something dumb he did today, but the truth is, I have nothing to complain about. Instead I just sit here alone, watching everyone else sabotage their relationships, and tell me why their lives are just so hard, not realizing how much I would give anything to feel the way they do. To have that much emotion invested into one person. Oh, and to have that person be invested back.

By the way, please don't take any of this too seriously. I'm tired and in a horrible mood. I most likely don't mean half of it.

Tangerines

I long to be free.
I long to devour the night with shadowy footsteps and a song in my heart.
I long to peel oranges with stubby fingernails and chemical covered hands.
I long to wear my hair in numerous braids until they themselves become restless and untangle without force.
I long to be bald;
To lose my self-image.
I long to stand naked in a doorway as warm blues notes drift through my ears, and the eager cries of Mischief echo down the hall.
I long to make eyes at death, and let nature take its course.
I long to lay on sweet green grass and dissolve into the Earth.
I long to write until my hands are numb and purple, and my eyelids grow heavy from exhaustion.

I long to be One.

Time After Time

"One day we'll look back on this and laugh," he says in a tone that I'm sure was meant to feed the crazies.

Are you over it?
Are you over it?
Are you over it?
Please be over it.

That's all I ever hear. I almost forget, but then he's right there reminding me, refreshing my memory on why we haven't heard each other's voices in 2 months. 3 months. Fuck, I don't even keep track anymore.

I miss being trusted. And I miss him being brave. He's such a coward now. No, but the main thing I miss is being important enough for him to be brave with me.

My Back Pages

I tried sleeping tonight, but that didn't really work out. I don't know why. So I decided to go through my old journals cuz I couldn't find anything else to do. I could be writing my third and final essay for Naropa, but I can't figure out what to write about, so looking at my past writings seemed like a good idea.

I decided to pull out the old junior year journal. Well, beginning of junior year. I filled up about 3 journals that year. Anyone who was there knows why. Anyways, I flipped open the old green composition book I used with the green sharpie marks on the front [that was the year I was obsessed with green, people], and started skimming the pages. Not much happened in the beginning. I did write a very interesting piece about how Boy Meets World has affected my life...good lord. There were a couple of failed poems and actually some AP English notes, but then I came across this one page and I stopped.

I used to do this thing where I would fill up an entire page with things that I love. I would write the phrase "I <3" over and over again with things that I "heart" after it. I remember having to write really small so I could fit everything. Here's what I put down as the things that I loved:

-Emz
-my family
-my friends
-Green Day
-MOCHA FRAPPUCINOS
-sushi
-Boy Meets World [of course]
-Rider Strong!
-Kaitlin
-soccer
-Conan O'Brien
-bowling
-OLD MOVIES
-Charlie Chaplin
-ART
-drama
-Mastro
-Orlando Bloom
-Johnny Depp
-MTV
-CourtTV
-GREEN!
-Emz's family
-Phantom of the Opera
-plays
-musicals
-shoes
-purses
-TV
-Whose Line Is It Anyway
-Tyson
-SNL
-the phone
-AOL
-ebay
-Rooney
-seeing movies w/ friends
-laughing
-hanging out w/ my mom
-watching Family Guy w/ Max
-hearing my dad yell "SHOOT IT!" on the sidelines of my soccer games
-my grandparents E. Valley Rd. house
-my childhood
-8th grade [I don't remember why]
-singing
-dancing
-lipsyncing
-karaoke
-Weezer
-laughing...A LOT
-going to tournies w/ my mom
-Law & Order
-Ashlee Simpson's reality show [Oh God, I did love that show...]
-my hair...when it's taken care of [Ooooo back in the days of brushing]
-my personality
-Pacula
-summer
-winter
-Molly McCambridge LOL
-music videos
-the 80s, the 90s, and VH1's other addictive shows
-countdown shows
-Will & Grace
-Family Guy
-my cellphone
-staying up late
-writing
-old albums
-buying gifts for people I love
-the look on my mom's face when I make her a card
-my clothes
-The Softer Side
-Leonardo DiCaprio (in his prime)
-Baz Luhrman's directing skills
-Moulin Rouge!
-Broadway
-Romeo + Juliet
-reading
-HARRY POTTER
-"Buddy Holly" by Weezer
-laughing so hard my stomach hurts
-finding really cool vintage things
-thrift stores
-shopping
-bright colors
-being tall...well, when I wear my 4" high sandals [God, I remember those]
-going downtown with Kaitlin
-polkadots
-making fun of EVERYTHING stupid with the help of Emz
-ghost stories
-reading the obituary section
-Fred Astaire
-the Art Fashion Show
-acrylic paints
-blending
-monologues [Still do, Oh God, I really do...]
-UCLA! [yeah, I remember really wanting to go there]
-college sweatshirts [I used to have like 8 from the thrift store]
-Cake! [not sure if I meant the band or the food]
-Phish Food
-Audrey
-silent films
-comedies
-Scrubs
-wearing interesting outfits
-make-up
-my eyes
-cutting & pasting [Arts & Crafts, guys, come on]
-my writing
-my E's [I had cool E's, not gonna lie]
-IM
-sunglasses
-awards shows
-clothes
-vintage things
-my mom's dumb remarks
-judy garland
-De-Lovely [Haven't seen the movie since]
-Debra Messing
-Kids In The Hall
-The Simpsons
-Saved By The Bell
-True Hollywood Stories on E!
-People Magazine
-embarrassing moments
-sharing stories with Emz
-Natalie Portman
-The Brat Pack
-Usher!
-rock...punk rock, that is [GOD KILL ME]
-Roxy
-filling out forms [Ha, I do love that]
-my signature
-Colin Mocherie
-Ryan Stiles
-stand-up comedy
-my B-day!
-New Year's Eve
-X-mas
-camping
-the VW van
-slumber parties
-TPing people
-secrets
-reading about famous people
-learning fun facts about old movies and actors
-Zach Braff
-Arrested Development
-watching movies w/ Emz
-PB & J
-french toast
-Spiderman
-Ed, Edd, & Eddy
-SpongeBob!
-soundtracks
-soup
-Lewis & Clark...LOL [I don't get it.]
-DANNY!
-JOSH!
-my soccer team
-AYSO
-No Doubt
-AFI
-Phil Hartman
-Steve Martin
-being corny
-talking in an English accent
-checkerboard pattern
-mod
-"Fashion Victim" by Green Day
-David Hockney's "Mullholland Drive"

And then quickly added in on the side it says, "I <3 JAKE! I <3 THE SWAMP MONSTER!", with an implied "giggle giggle giggle"...These additions were made later, a month or so after I wrote the rest of it. It was weird looking at this and comparing it to how I feel now. I can't say I don't still love any of those things, but there are definitely a lot of things that I now love more. Like The Beatles! They are nowhere to be found on that list. Or The Who, or Tommy, or Led Zeppelin, or The Velvet Underground, or Catcher in the Rye, all of those things weren't a part of my life yet. I guess it's hard to grasp because they're such an important part of my life now, that I had forgotten what life was like without them. The Silly Squad isn't even on there, or Toblerone. Or Amanda, or any of the San Francisco crew. So many people I have met since then, so many things I have experienced...I completely lost sight of that.

It was also weird for another reason. Well, here, let me explain:

I started seeing a therapist. It's been really hard dealing with schools, and friends leaving [mentally and physically], and finding out what I want to do, and dealing with being back in Ventura, so I needed someone to talk to. I know I have several friends that I can confide in, but I think I need an outside perspective. I've only had two sessions, so not much has happened, but the first session my therapist asked, "So what do you love doing?" I told her that I love hanging out with my friends, to which she asked, "And doing what?" And I told her it didn't matter, I just loved being with my friends. She said, "Ok, now, friends aside, what do you love to do everyday?" That's when I got scared. I couldn't think of anything. I couldn't think of anything I genuinely, whole-heartedly loved to pieces. So when I found this page, this overflowing page of things that I loved, I got kinda depressed. Why was it so easy then to list these things, and now it has become so hard? I mean, sure, I can list possessions that I love, music, bands...but there isn't anything that I really love doing everyday, besides being with friends, of course. I dunno. It's just weird.

I think I'm gonna make a new list.