Right.
So here sits I, listening to a little Nas, trying to enjoy a little moment of mental centeredness. Right now, I am the King of all I survey. Both in the emotional AND the office-management meaning of the phrase.
Its a quiet world.
In about three hours, I'm about to start my drive from my New home of Galveston, Texas to my old Home of Hamilton, Illinois. I know I've talked about this before, but I'm fascinated by how when I'm here, I'm a respected (okay, semi-respected) Student Services Professional. People call me "Mr. Golemo" sometimes.
But somewhere between here and "The Big Ill" I shed the cape and top hat of decorum and professionality and am left 6 years old, in my spiderman underoos, crying about how I my sister hurt my hand... with her face... [wimpers... with occasional glances to see if Pappacho is buying it]
I'm no longer "Neil E. Golemo, with a Master's of Education" I'm "Neeeeeeely Golemo, who never stops master-..." -well you get the idea.
High school was a tough time for me. I was a very late-bloomer with a strong case of Catholic guilt and parent's who were too tricky to let me underacheive... too much. I didn't drink. I didn't chew... and I didn't go with the girls that do... no matter how hard I might have tried.
And no matter how confident I am in the man I know I've become, hob-nobbing with famous and powerful people, making meaningful friendships and finding true purpose in a job I freaking love, some not small part of me still yearns for the acceptance of the people I was too blinded by insecurity to get to really know. Yeah, I can call them stuck-up -because sometimes they were. But I played the game too, right? We were doing the Sharks and Jets dance... but in the end we were the same. It turns out High Schoolers are a lot like people.
I'm no better.
I often say that a person never changes more in their lives than they do in that first year from the summer before and after their freshman year of college. And I stand by that. So its fascinating and fustrating and surprising and disappointing and scary to go back home to try and fit yourself, with your new square edges, if even for a night, into a round hole you never really fit into in the first place. And scariest of all, when you realize that maybe your edges are a little bit more round than you thought they were. And round is comforting.
So I'm excited to go back home. And I'm becoming ok with that. Hamilton might not be a great place for me to live. But it was a fantastic place for me to be from. I'm okay with that.
And I always love my visits.
Texas, I'll be back in a minute.
Thursday, December 21, 2006
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2 comments:
I like hearing about all the mean folks at my high school that still work at Fred Meyer.
It's fun to go back and laugh at them, really.
But it must be nice to go home and see all those people that may have brought you down working at the local market while you're making a name for yourself!!!! KARMA'S A BITCH!!! hehe. You Da Man! hehe. but i understand fully what you're thinking...i think the same way.
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