Tuesday, April 27, 2004
Return to Ithaca
I drive up to Ithaca from the south, on Route 13. About half an hour north from Elmira, through apple orchards and the occasional farmhouse, Ithaca appears on a hillside seemingly out of nowhere, a town of a few hundred-thousand residents. The approach is better when done at night, as a glittering little town suddenly pops into view after miles of darkened and hilly terrain with your high-beams on.
I had a sinking feeling in my stomach when the CU clock tower first came into view at the end of my drive on Sunday, and the feeling hasn't gone away since. I've been filled with a strange sort of emptiness, which isn't quite the same as loneliness, but very close. I guess you have to get away from a place for a while to truly appreciate how much you've come to dislike it. I've been having a hard time separating what I dislike about this college itself, and the painful experiences I've had while being here. It's certainly true that I haven't been able to grow here academically in the way that I'd envisioned, but it's because of J and the countless arguments with my parents that the very walls of these buildings are seeped in sorrow. And of course the latter reason is a problem with me, and not this institution. Maybe I just need more time off.
My apartment here is even more chaotic than before, if that were possible. David, who Mel and Panna are still fighting over, has somehow landed himself in a rehabilitation center for alcoholism and violation of parole. Since he had been living across the hall, some new denizens of Ithaca have moved in to his empty apartment. They have put a giant hole in their front door, which looks for all the world as if it was created by a shotgun. Just think "Kill Bill, volume 2" and the scene with the female Korean assassin. There is an additional hole in the hallway wall, although this was created by the fist of one of the new neighbors and did not go completely through. One of the more constructive residents has thoughtfully patched this hole by stuffing it with empty beer cans.
So of course, I'd been thinking of heading off for my job in NYC as soon as possible... today, in fact. Unfortunately, my great aunt who was offering me a place to stay in the city backed out last night, and although her job offer is still on the table, without a place to live the job itself is somewhat a moot point. So I've been lost as to what to do, at least for today. But considering how this town makes me feel, Ohio is starting to look more and more attractive.
I drive up to Ithaca from the south, on Route 13. About half an hour north from Elmira, through apple orchards and the occasional farmhouse, Ithaca appears on a hillside seemingly out of nowhere, a town of a few hundred-thousand residents. The approach is better when done at night, as a glittering little town suddenly pops into view after miles of darkened and hilly terrain with your high-beams on.
I had a sinking feeling in my stomach when the CU clock tower first came into view at the end of my drive on Sunday, and the feeling hasn't gone away since. I've been filled with a strange sort of emptiness, which isn't quite the same as loneliness, but very close. I guess you have to get away from a place for a while to truly appreciate how much you've come to dislike it. I've been having a hard time separating what I dislike about this college itself, and the painful experiences I've had while being here. It's certainly true that I haven't been able to grow here academically in the way that I'd envisioned, but it's because of J and the countless arguments with my parents that the very walls of these buildings are seeped in sorrow. And of course the latter reason is a problem with me, and not this institution. Maybe I just need more time off.
My apartment here is even more chaotic than before, if that were possible. David, who Mel and Panna are still fighting over, has somehow landed himself in a rehabilitation center for alcoholism and violation of parole. Since he had been living across the hall, some new denizens of Ithaca have moved in to his empty apartment. They have put a giant hole in their front door, which looks for all the world as if it was created by a shotgun. Just think "Kill Bill, volume 2" and the scene with the female Korean assassin. There is an additional hole in the hallway wall, although this was created by the fist of one of the new neighbors and did not go completely through. One of the more constructive residents has thoughtfully patched this hole by stuffing it with empty beer cans.
So of course, I'd been thinking of heading off for my job in NYC as soon as possible... today, in fact. Unfortunately, my great aunt who was offering me a place to stay in the city backed out last night, and although her job offer is still on the table, without a place to live the job itself is somewhat a moot point. So I've been lost as to what to do, at least for today. But considering how this town makes me feel, Ohio is starting to look more and more attractive.
