Journal for tbrounst

For those keeping up with my travels, tomorrow I’m going to hand off my laptop to my parents and they head home while I head back to Galway. Then I’ll spend about a week in Galway. On Thursday the 30th, I’ll begin my nomadic trek. So, it’s 10 days away. I’m not sure if I’m excited or nervous as all Hell. Probably both. It’ll be an incredible experience, but it’s really scary. Especially that being alone and without internet part. I’ll manage, though.

I’m writing this on a train somewhere between France and Spain. I don’t know where. We hopped on about two hours ago. We still have another three to go. Originally we had thought this was a three hour train, which would have been nice. By the time I finish this blog post we would have been about done with the ride. Unfortunately, that doesn’t seem to be the case. Perhaps I’ll be able to sleep over the next couple of hours. Or I’ll play more DotA. Whatever.

For those keeping up with my travels, tomorrow I’m going to hand off my laptop to my parents and they head home while I head back to Galway. Then I’ll spend about a week in Galway. On Thursday the 30th, I’ll begin my nomadic trek. So, it’s 10 days away. I’m not sure if I’m excited or nervous as all Hell. Probably both. It’ll be an incredible experience, but it’s really scary. Especially that being alone and without internet part. I’ll manage, though.

I’ve been thinking a lot about Martha the past couple of days. This is no surprise, of course, considering that I might meet her soon, but the more I think about it the less sure I am.

Martha meant a lot to me back in high school. She was a confidant, someone I could turn to. The fact that she only existed online, was anonymous and didn’t know anyone in my life probably helped. But she was also fun, interesting and smart. She made me happy, and I remember joking around with her a lot. Back in high school we talked, and we had fun.

But I’m not in high school anymore, am I? And if there’s one thing I’ve learned over this trip it’s that people change. The girl I used to talk to probably doesn’t exist anymore, and the guy who talked to her certainly doesn’t exist. I’ve changed a lot in those years. I remember feeling out of place, uncomfortable in Cancun when I was a senior. I had no such feelings in Barcelona, and I’m planning on traveling by myself for five weeks. That’s a big change. I know she’s gone through just as big of changes in her life.

It sucks, but we’ve drifted apart and changed.

I have two friends, one in high school, one in college, who both told me that they don’t really mind that they lost track of a lot of old friends. They drifted apart and changed. Life goes on. And, really, do you want to stay in contact with most of those random people from high school? Not the ones you were close with, but the ones who were in class with you, who you were friends with but never saw outside of school.

I’m reminded of Scarlet. We knew each other as freshmen, sitting next to each other in biology, but we didn’t really become friends until senior year when we were in drama together. There were only a few people in the class who actually cared, actually tried, and we stuck together. I got to know her a lot better that year, and she was a really cool, fun person. I haven’t talked to her since graduation. I wonder how she’s doing? I wonder what she’s doing.

I’m reminded of Jaquie Grace. She combined my love of people named “Jackie” with my love of people who spell their name in a funny way. I met her when I was a freshman, she was a senior in our public speaking class at Willamette. She was clearly just fulfilling a MOI. She was a bio major doing research into birds (I know who her advisor is just based on that; there is one bio teacher who really loves birds), and was one of the first people I met in the Delta Gamma sorority. I like that sorority in large part because of her. Jaquie was a sweetheart, always nice and helpful, and more than willing to take the time to help out a stupid little freshman like me. I haven’t talked to her since that class ended.

I’m reminded of Camilicious. Her name was Cami, but I met her at about the time “Fergilicous” was popular and, well, somehow the nickname stuck. I have no idea how. She worked on Collegian in the news section with me when we were freshmen. She wrote the profile pieces every week. She was really good at it. Turns out, she was also in Delta Gamma, another reason I have fond feelings towards that sorority. She was a lot of fun to hang out with, a good friend, and very nice girl. She was one of my first friends at WU, and I miss her. After she graduated she went to India for a year. She’s pretty much been traveling ever since. I think she was in Berlin recently. I don’t know. I haven’t talked to her for a long time. I should look her up. Perhaps she wants to spend a week in Italy.

I’m reminded of all of my friends in high school. Only two of them read this blog (well, I think they stopped because they got busy, but they kept up with it for awhile). I make a point of calling Jackie, Kari and Bobby every time I’m in town and trying to hang out with them, but that’s it.

I’m reminded of my friends in college. I look around at my group and I already know who I’m going to stop talking to when we graduate, and who I’ll stay in contact with. I know who I’m not going to bother keeping in contact with when we aren’t together anymore.

People drift apart. People change. People lose contact with each other. It happens all the time. But that doesn’t mean we have to like it. You should look back on the lost friendships, and they should hurt. That’s how you know they were real. You should regret what you no longer have.

More importantly, though, at what point do you just let it slip away? At what point do you fight to rebuild what you once had? What do you do when you realize that you don’t know someone nearly as well as you thought? That you two are drifting apart, despite your efforts?

Do you spend a night in New York to meet a girl who you no longer know?

Posted by Thomas R Brounstein at 11:59 AM | Permalink | Comments (2) | TrackBacks (0)

Tom's last real blog post.

Well, that time has finally come. At 4:00 today I’m boarding a bus for the Shannon airport. Tomorrow, early in the morning, I’m hopping onto a plane and flying to Barcelona. Shortly after that I’ll be in southern France, then spend another night in Barcelona. After that, I’m coming back to Galway for about a week, little more, to say goodbye. Walk these streets I used to own. Then I begin my five week nomadic trek through Europe before finally arriving back in America around June 6th.

The thing is, I’m going to be packing light from here on out, and I am most definitely not bringing my laptop on the nomadic trek. The way it’s going to work is that I’m bringing my laptop to Barcelona with me, then giving it to my parents to take home when they fly back to America. So, after I leave Barcelona for Galway, I will not have a laptop. I will have access to computers, sure. Brian will be around for awhile, and I’m sure he’ll let me borrow his laptop, and the school has computers I can use, and there are internet cafes, and Maggie has already explicitly told me I can use her computer when she’s in class, so I can access the internet. However, it’s going to be a lot more restricted and rare. Even in Barcelona I don’t think I’ll be on nearly as much. I’ll try and keep up with e-mail and Facebook, though, so if you need to talk to me I can respond.

However, the time has finally come for me to end the blog. My semester is over, and with the significantly reduced access to the internet I just don’t see it being practical for me to update the blog with the lengthy and complex posts I’ve been trying to do all semester. I’ll still post occasionally as a way to tell people I’m still alive; I’ll try and make a post whenever I reach someplace new to say that I reached there okay and so people know how my journey is going. Similarly, I’ll update my Facebook status with wherever I happen to be at the time. And, if I get the chance, perhaps I’ll do a long and thoughtful post. Then again, I like the idea that I’m done. These are hard sometimes!

So, I guess this is it. Thanks for reading, I really appreciate it! And thanks to all of those who left me so many comments—it was a pleasure to log on and see them. I hope you all enjoyed. I did.

So long.

Slan!

Posted by Thomas R Brounstein at 04:10 AM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

So, I’ve made no secret that I had a pretty bad week. I’ve just been in a bad place emotionally, and while I’m glad my parents are here and like spending time with them, I’ve just been feeling crummy. But, the thing is, each day it gets a little better and after awhile…you just walk on. It stops hurting and you can move on with your life. That’s what happened to me yesterday. I got over that omni-present specter and got to move on with life. I had a good day, something I really needed.

So, I’ve made no secret that I had a pretty bad week. If you’ve been checking my Facebook status, or even reading the past few blog posts, you’ll notice that I’ve hinted at this significantly. I’ve just been in a bad place emotionally, and while I’m glad my parents are here and like spending time with them, I’ve just been feeling crummy.

But, the thing is, each day it gets a little better. The first day it hurts a lot—that’s how this sort of thing goes, after all—and you can’t seem to escape from it. The next day, it still hurts, but less. You’re trying to focus on other things. You’re trying to think of something else. He next day it’s still there, playing in your mind, but it doesn’t hurt as much. You’re getting distracted by other things. Soon you’re back to normal for an hour, and then something reminds you and you’re hurt again. Then you feel better and forget, and then something else reminds you and you begin again. But after awhile…you just walk on. It stops hurting and you can move on with your life.

That’s what happened to me yesterday. I got over that omni-present specter and got to move on with life. I had a good day, something I really needed.

Before I begin the relatively boring list of what I actually did yesterday, there are two highlights I want to make special note of. These were the two parts of yesterday that were really awesome.

To begin, my dad looks like a tourist everywhere. Literally. One time, my brother mom and I were driving around Bellingham and someone said “hey, look at that goofy looking guy! He’s so lost and confused.” And we all look and there’s this old man, clearly out of place, clearly confused by everything. We laugh for a minute before mom said “wait…that’s dad!”

While here, dad bought a hat, similar to the style that everyone else was wearing. And because it got warm he took off his rain jacket so he’s walking around in a cream colored sweatshirt. He looked Irish. I don’t know how the hat did it, but dad blended in perfectly. Like, you would think he was a native. There were a couple times when mom and I lost him in a crowd, so we’d say “look for the goofy looking tourist,” only to realize that didn’t work anymore!

The other, even more exciting thing, goes back a long time. Back in high school I made friends with a girl named Martha. We met online and for around three years I chatted with her on AIM on a regular basis but had never actually met her since she lives on the east coast. She was a really good friend, though, and someone who I enjoyed talking to a lot. When we both ended up in college, we drifted apart. We were both on AIM a lot less, and the pressures and stress of school (along with having a million friends within walking distance) made it so I was on the computer less. We still talked, probably once a semester, but that was all. She’s still someone I really like, and in many ways she’s shaped who I am today, but I had given up on meeting her anytime soon.

My parents mentioned that it was a long flight between Athens and Seattle, and I might enjoy a lay over of a night somewhere on the east coast, like New York. I thought for a moment and realized Martha’s living in New York right now. More importantly, she agreed to meet up with me for dinner if I take the layover (since I still haven't bought tickets, it’s still a little up in the air, but I think it’ll work). So, apparently I’m going to finally meet Martha! I’m almost more excited for that than my five week nomadic trek (though my nomadic trek does include driving ATVs on a Greek beach). Also, when I talked to her about it, I pointed out I’d be jet lagged, tired, smelly, exhausted, not shaven for five weeks and my clothes wouldn’t have had a proper wash for two weeks at best. Her response was pretty much “yeah, I figured. Whatever.” Good girl!

And now for the rest of what happened yesterday. That was the most important stuff above.

I met up with my parents at the giant hooker (that is a real landmark…) at around noon and we went over to the Saturday market. The Saturday market is a lot of fun, I’ve been I think every week that I’ve been in Galway. It has some pretty jewelry, cool art, and most importantly lots of awesome food, including the best doughnuts ever created by man. I forced my parents to buy six of them (two for each of us—and you want to eat two), but because my dad didn’t want them I “had” to eat three and a half. It’s sort of like those times my mom wants one bite of ice cream so she buys me a sundae…Also, we bought some cool paintings of Ireland that I plan to decorate my dorm with. For once my dorm walls won’t be barren like my soul!

After that, we wandered around town for awhile. I showed them my campus and the cool ruins we found, and they agreed the Terrible Bridge is, in fact, terrible. Though, before that, every bridge we walked over, my dad asked “is this the Terrible Bridge?” Then we came back to my place for a bit and I checked up on e-mail and Facebook for awhile, then we headed out for dinner.

Mom had found this restaurant/bar called “The Front Door,” and so we went in search of it. I remembered seeing it as we walked around, so I led them to where I thought it was. My mom looked at it and said “this isn’t the place I was talking about! It was down here.” She walks us around the corner of the block, goes a bit and stops “here it is!” she proudly declared “this is the restaurant.” Turns out it was the same restaurant, just another entrance.

After that we went out to Monroe’s and as we were leaving we ran into a friend of mine, Anna, and her parents who, as it turns out, are staying in the same bed and breakfast as my parents. So we went out to another pub with them where we listened to traditional Irish music, than watched an adorable old man (not my dad) do Irish dance and sing some Irish folk songs. I want to be that guy when I grow up. That old Irish man is my hero. The best part was when he almost got my mom to do some Irish dance with him…

So, overall, it was a good day. It was a lot of fun. A lot of cool things happened. Dad stopped being a tourist, and for the first time since I met her in July of 2001, I have plans to actually meet Martha. Plus, a lot of just good, fun stuff happened. I was finally able to move past what had been upsetting me for nearly a week and enjoy myself, and it felt good. Like I said, it was something I really needed, and was a great way to end my Ireland experience.

Posted by Thomas R Brounstein at 03:50 AM | Permalink | Comments (3) | TrackBacks (0)

Meh, I’m tired and have been on the computer too long at this point, but I feel like I should post a quick update about what’s going on with me. Here’s what’s going on with me right now.

Meh, I’m tired and have been on the computer too long at this point, but I feel like I should post a quick update about what’s going on with me. Here’s what’s going on with me right now.

On Wednesday I hopped on a bus and traveled out to Dublin to meet up with my parents. They weren’t there when I got off the bus, having gone to the wrong bus station and me not getting off at the bus station I did go to, so I had a great moment of being in Dublin, by myself, and not sure of where the hotel was, or what its name was. It was pretty awesome. I figured it out, though, and was a little surprised at how good my memory of the city was. I knew most of the streets and stores still, despite only spending one weekend in the city about two months ago. I met up with the parents right outside of the hotel, then they took a nap (they’d been traveling a lot) and I wandered the city for a bit. As it turns out, Jackie was in Dublin with some friends enjoying spring break, so we met up with her (I guess she wasn’t sick of me yet) and took her out to dinner. Afterwards we talked for a long time which was good.

On Thursday we came back to Galway on a painfully over long bus ride of four and a half hours, and then wandered around a bit and looked at the city. I took my parents to Monroe’s, which is my favorite pub in town, and listened to some live music as we stood near a fire, then left.

Today my parents went on a bus tour of Connemara while I just dealt with some stuff here. It was a pretty relaxed day, I visited a friend who went to Belgium for a week and just got back, went for a walk, and just sat around online a lot. I met up with the parents after their tour and we went out to dinner. Unfortunately, since it’s Good Friday, all of the pubs are closed (the one day a year all the pubs close, incidentally), so there really wasn’t much to do. I got back to my room early-ish and have just been chatting with people online since.

Emotionally it’s been a rough week. Lots of ups and downs. Well, mostly just downs and times I forget about the downs. I’m just really confused and frustrated right now, and doing a lot of self-reflection and trying to figure out a lot of stuff. Plus, I’m still feeling pretty hurt about some things, and I feel bad because I know I hurt some others. I don’t want to go too much further into it because, well, this isn’t the place. I’m sorry to mention it briefly and not say anything, but that has been the defining point of the last few days for me—the rollercoaster of feelings I have over this one thing and trying to figure it all out.

I’m really looking forward to going to Scotland. Mostly because I’m going to be alone, fending for myself, traveling independently, in another country without a cell phone or laptop. I will be completely dependent on myself. More importantly, I will be cut off from…everything. I see this trip as being a time for some reflection and self-actualization. Being alone with my thoughts. Trying to discover myself or whatever. I’m not too into that idea of finding yourself, but I think it’ll be a good chance for me to think about who I am—who I’ve become—and who I want to become. Maybe I’ll have an epiphany. Or maybe I’ll just stare blankly at the countryside as my mind runs in the same circles it’s caught in right now. Who knows?

I’m just really looking forward to that trip. To vanishing, leaving it all behind.

So, that’s what I’ve been up to the past couple of days. There, I wrote about my life. Just like a real blog!

Posted by Thomas R Brounstein at 03:44 PM | Permalink | Comments (1) | TrackBacks (0)

I believe...

I believe in human kindness. I believe in human goodness. I believe that deep down, everyone wants to do the right thing.

I believe everyone wants to be a good person. I believe everyone wants to be a hero.

I believe that somewhere, there is a cat alive in a box. I believe the cat is dead.

I believe your best friends will betray you. I believe you worst enemies will save you.

I believe in forgiveness.

I believe in the power of redemption. I believe that people can change.

I believe in better days. I believe in a brighter future. I believe the sun will rise tomorrow, and that tomorrow the world will shine a little brighter. I believe we will fix the problems we cause.

I believe that drinking is over rated. I believe that it is not something I enjoy. I believe I would rather spend my 21st birthday playing DotA than drinking. I believe Justin, Jeff, and Daniel will be around on my birthday.

I believe in a thing called love.

I believe that my perfect woman is out there, somewhere. I believe I might have already met her.

I believe in the green light.

I believe that I am not innocent, naïve or immature. I believe optimism is not synonymous with childishness. I believe that being a romantic doesn’t mean I don’t understand how the world works. I believe I am this way because it’s how I deal with the world. I believe my life ain’t been no crystal stair.

I believe in magic. I believe in elves, fairies and merfolk. I believe losing a child-like sense of wonder is the worst part of growing up.

I believe I made the world a better place. I believe that, somewhere, she thinks about me and smiles.

I believe in futures.

I believe that life is long and full of hurt. I believe that at the end it is worth it. I believe that when you stumble, your friends will be there with a helping hand. I believe that when your friends stumble, you will help them up.

I believe in hope.

Posted by Thomas R Brounstein at 03:06 PM | Permalink | Comments (1) | TrackBacks (0)

I should probably talk about Jackie coming to visit. I don’t feel like talking about our itinerary. It was unimportant at best. Well, to me at least. I’ve seen the places before. For her I hope it was important and exciting, but for me the fun part was having Jackie around.

I told you I’d be writing less, and look at that. Much less writing. I don’t really feel bad about this. I’ve been busy. Jackie visiting made it so I didn’t want to blog—I’d rather hang out with her—and since then I’ve enjoyed not having much to do. Today, for example, I didn’t do much of anything. Instead I wrote 3,600 words of fiction and finished another Acantha: Chronicles short story. I should mention, 3,600 words is around eight pages single spaced. It was pretty awesome. I haven’t done a marathon writing session like that in a long, long time. Well, okay, I did turn out three 1500 word essays in three days. I guess that counts.

I should probably talk about Jackie coming to visit. I don’t feel like talking about our itinerary. It was unimportant at best. Well, to me at least. I’ve seen the places before. For her I hope it was important and exciting, but for me the fun part was having Jackie around.

I’m really glad I got to see her, to hang out with her. I feel like whenever I’m with someone, no matter who it is, I’m playing a part. I’m acting. I’m wearing a mask. Those who know me well, my closest friends, my family, that is when I’m acting the least. That is when I’m barely playing a part. That’s when the mask hangs loose. That’s why I like seeing Jackie: she’s known me for so long that when I’m with her I get to be myself. I don’t feel like I’m playing a part or tying to prove anything, which has been a frustratingly common feeling at college.

The tough part is, friendship is a fragile thing. I only really talk to two of my friends from high school (who also don’t go to Willamette). One is Jackie, and one is Kari. And I know that Kari and I would not be friends right now if not for a surprising perseverance on her part. Ironically, she fought to keep out friendship. That’s, uh, only ironic if you know about me in high school. The thing is, friends are easily lost and hard to regain. You put a lot of time and energy into it, and it can fall apart in the blink of an eye.

So, going back to Jackie. She’s someone who I really look up to and respect. She’s someone who I really like. She’s someone who I have a lot of fun whenever I talk to her. She’s always been a good friend to me, and when I’m with her I can be myself. These are important and rare qualities in a friend. And yet, I can’t help but feel it’s all fluttering at the edge of a cliff. It’s all on the ledge, about to drop.

That’s one of the things I’m scared of most. Losing those closest to me. Through apathy and lethargy, two friends stop talking and drift apart. It’s happened to me before. I can easily think of three very close friends of mine where I lost them in this same way, and rebuilding that friendship we once had seems a Herculean task. I don’t want that to happen with Jackie.

Overall, though, and to get less philosophical and emotional, I did have a great time. I really enjoyed spending time with her and seeing her. It’s all too rare that I get to spend time with her—typically once or twice over summer and winter breaks—and I really appreciate the rare opportunities to see her. The only time I wasn’t happy was when I stopped being myself and tried to prove (to her? To myself?) I was somebody I wasn’t. Who would have guessed it would turn out poorly?

The moral of this story is to always be yourself. Especially with those you’re closest to.

Posted by Thomas R Brounstein at 02:35 PM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

One thing I’ve been wondering about for awhile, and that was especially relevant tonight, was what makes a hero. It’s been one of my goals for a long time to be a hero, to help other people. I remember at New Years one time, Jackie decided that we all had to come up with New Years Resolutions before the end of Live Free or Die Hard. I jokingly answered “to be more awesome,” like Barney from How I Met Your Mother but my real resolution was to be a hero.