January 4th, 2007

surya

A case of nostalgia

So this customer has the last name "Case". I've been processing the same 100W since 2 PM yesterday (it's a bit complicated), and I've worked on this "Case" person several times: written the name, looked up the name, read the name, checked information about the name. . . All stuff I have to do in order to properly process the payment.

But for some reason, it's distracting. I can't get a girl out of my mind, one I knew a long time ago (almost a decade now). This customer, "Case," is why I can't forget her today, and why I am having trouble processing the tickets associated with the name, and why I'm writing this entry now (so that hopefully, I can get moving again on the actual work).

I met the girl at a fencing meet at Notre Dame my freshman year. She was from Case Western Reserve University (you see now the connection), and she was just an amazing girl.

I try and keep in touch with her, but it's hard for me. She's in Denver now, or was last I heard. I have a couple of letters from her and occasionally wonder if she has a couple of letters from me.

I kinda miss talking to her.

I wonder if my most recent address for her is still any good?
surya

Steps to a better life:

  • Step 1: Learn ASL for "Can I buy you a cup of coffee?"
  • Step 2: ?
  • Step 3: Profit!
Today's excursion into entirely different modes of experiencing communication was nigh disastrous.

Thankfully, there was a cute girl sitting next to me who kinda knew what she was doing, and was willing to help me out.

I'm in over my head with the ASL stuff, but the Chaote is kicking in.

If that little bastard weren't so rusty at existence, I might stand a chance at acing this course.

As it stands, I walked out repeating, "I will not be frightened by the fact that I can't keep up with a girl on the first day of class. I will not give in to frustration. I am not here for me. I am here for my Grove, ADF, and my co-workers. If no one sees me for ten weeks, they can deal with that."

And in a little voice at the back of my head, I was repeating something deeper and more ingrained:
I must not fear.
Fear is the mind-killer.
Fear is the little-death that brings total obliteration.
I will face my fear.
I will permit it to pass over me and through me.
And when it has gone past I will turn the inner eye to see its path.
Where the fear has gone there will be nothing.
Only I will remain.
Then I turned around and looked back at Mendenhall Lab and the girl caught my eye and waved. And damnit, there I was feeling in-over-my-head again.