10

I keep opening this page with the intention of writing something, but there doesn't seem to be any way I can formulate anything that can possibly compare to what I really mean or how I really feel. When I first came it seemed like everything I was experiencing was novel and unique and I should write it all down because it was funny. And now, I suppose I've become accustomed to most of the things that once seemed strange, because all I can think of is how everything makes me feel and how I want to remember everything but none of it is anything that can be put into words.

It's the way I feel when I wake up and can see the sun rising behind the crack in the curtains; how the Christmas lights looked on Rustaveli tonight when I was riding the bus thinking to myself "I need to remember this" but knowing I really won't be able to within a few months or even a few weeks; how it feels to be spoken to and not understand a word someone is saying, but know what they mean anyway. The way the children look at me between classes and giggle shyly when I ask them a question; the way it feels to have so many people love you undoubtedly for no reason at all.

I want to remember hearing the buses screeching outside of our flat building. I want to remember what it's like to be in a rush in the morning and almost fall down the icy hill. I want to remember the taste of khinkali and khatchapuri and lobio. I want to remember what it feels like to be drunk on chacha and homemade wine.

Today, Papuna told me that in 10 years I will not miss Georgia. I will miss it for a year or two, and then it will just be a memory of a nice time, and it's sad but that is how it is. But I want to miss it. I want to miss all the people I've met and grown to love. I want to remember the smoky bars and clubs and dancing, and getting lost in the nameless streets, and the way the men I tutor laugh at me like I'm crazy.....

Leaving, leaving, leaving

It's like crying spells mixed followed by excitement followed by anxiety and stress.
I'm broke and I don't even have anywhere to live yet.
I have to wake up in four-and-a-half hours to drive to Sacramento to get on my 7am flight.

And it's been weird being home. And I've been so bipolar about it. Some days it's been awful and I feel annoyed at everyone and everything, and some days I feel like everything is going great and I've met some great people and everything looks so lovely.

I guess maybe it's the lack of sleep and the fact that I probably drank more than I should of last night. But I'm scared. Scared like I used to be when I was 15 years old and felt terrible doom knowing I was going to have to go on an airplane. And I have haven't had good dreams and everything on the news is about 9/11.

And I hate saying goodbye to everyone. I'm just not good at it. And I feel so emotional about it but pretend like I'm not.

And all day I felt like crying whenever I looked at my dog, because he somehow KNOWS and so does my cat and they look at me with their big sad eyes and I feel awful.
It's moments like these that make me feel like I shouldn't leave at all. But maybe that's also my anxiety. Maybe I've lost my mind.

Excuse

Using "I'm leaving in ___" as an easy way to defer all of my "problems." I wonder what I'll do when I'm back for real and don't have that excuse anymore.

All your friends are gone

I cried when I landed in Chicago. There were so many houses, and bright blue pools in the backyards, and no soviet block buildings. My friends are gone. I sat for five hours alone, pacing the airport with my heavy bag and sleepy eyes. I boarded another plane. I slept and woke up, moved my legs around in front of my seat. I landed. I almost cried when I saw my mom and my dog at the bottom of the escalator.

Yesterday I didn't leave the house, but to eat Taco Bell.

Today I drove around and I cried because everything was the same but all my friends are gone and when I feel happy because I get a burrito for the first time in five months, no one is there with me.

The people at the stores ask me "how are you?" and make comments on the weather, but all I can think about is "you don't actually care." And when I listen in on conversations, I wish that I couldn't understand English because a lot of girls are so. fucking. dumb. And the guys driving around in their jeeps with the top off and their shirts off aren't any better.

But then I get out of the car, and I walk around campus and things seem really beautiful. Because it is the same, and my dog is so happy to be outside with me, and no one is staring at me because I am the same as everyone else for once.

And that is what it's like to be home.

Turn out

Sometimes I try to formulate in my head what I am going to write before I start writing it, but then I just feel like writing is work. Like school or something. And also, I guess if I think too much before I go for it it won't sound normal. My blog is usually just random firings from my brain typed into a white text box, and although I basically come off as a spaz (most likely because I AM a spaz), I think that's probably what makes my blog "mine." So, I'm not going to try to make it sound good. I'm just going to write exactly what I'm thinking. Like, right now I'm thinking about how I always feel so dead and depressed on Sundays when I return to the village after a fun weekend with my friends. And normally it's just the dread associated with another long week of boredom, but this time it's because this last weekend was basically THE LAST WEEKEND with all of my friends.... most likely forever. And I start to feel all nostalgic and wonder how time goes by so quickly (because it's been almost 4 months since we got here, and I don't know how that possibly happened). So I try to imagine what it will be like in the fall when I come back here and no one is left except a couple friends and it's so depressing. And I think about if I will ever see them again, and I'd like to think that eventually in my life we will all see each other again, but who really knows? Is that pessimism? The world is just so big... 
But, it was a good last weekend.
We went to Tbilisi and stayed at our usual hostel and stayed up late and woke up fairly early. Of course with a large group of people, everyone sort of splits up, but we all converge at the hostel again and then the groups change up a little bit, and we all go to dinner together.....
I guess I don't have much to say.
On Friday we drank in the hostel. D was there and when I wouldn't agree to go to Batumi with him, he threatened to kidnap me Georgian style by putting a black thing over my head. Then he continued to beg me to go with him and said he would even put on a leotard and try to dance ballet if it meant I would go with him. I still refused.
Last night we ate dinner at a Thai restaurant. The waiter remembered my name (it was the same restaurant where I met the LyingAboutHisAgeGuy a while back). The power went out so we were in a restaurant lit only by candles until it went back on. We made cookies in the hostel and they were amazingly delicious. I made a new friend who is from a city only a couple hours away from my hometown. We went dancing. When we got back to the hostel the power was out so we hung out in the dark kitchen for a while and then went to sleep.
Today we ate McDonalds. I bought a ring from a man selling things on the street. We hung out in a park. We said our goodbyes to our friends who we won't see again before going home.
Now I'm home. And it's weird that in two weeks this won't be "home" anymore.

Winding down

We have approximately four weeks left of school.
I feel as though this means it's basically over already, and I'm fairly sure all the students feel the same way. Everything feels like it is moving by at an incredibly rapid pace, mostly due to the fact that I know I am running out of time. And when I say that, I know I am not running out of time with Georgia (because I am returning in September), but I am running out of time with all of the wonderful friends I've made in TLG 12 who aren't coming back in the fall.
It is going to be so weird without them.
It's funny to think that just over three months ago we were all strangers and now we are all sharing food, beds, health problem TMI, etc., as if we have known each other forever. I have developed a pretty good support system with them.
Only three people from group 12 (aside from myself) have decided to come back in the fall. I guess when I consider my return here, I don't feel at all nervous about where I will be placed or the new host family or school, just that most of friends won't be here anymore!

Packing up everything I own is a daunting challenge. I have to admit, I'm procrastinating a ton. I have under 2.5 weeks to get everything I own into a storage unit and leave the country. I also have under 2.5 to hang out with everyone I know. I feel constantly busy, except for today because I'm just sitting around going through stuff trying to decide if I REALLY want to keep it, or if I can donate it to Goodwill. I am really too sentimental. Do I need to save a random candle holder that my friend gave me in 7th grade? I guess not.... but what if I want it for some reason later and don't have it!?!?!
I think the worst part is imagining not living in my condo anymore. After 3.5 years it's more of a "home" than pretty much anywhere else in the world. And soon I won't have it anymore! It's sad, but exciting.
I am so excited to go to Georgia. But nervous. And what do I even pack??? I'm not sure how to prioritize my clothing, because I love it all. And shoes... that will be DIFFICULT.

Because I'm going :)