Iceburg Dreams

Written: 08.09.07;12:04AM
There is no reflection from the moon cascading over the waves outside my window. The sea is jet black. The sky is dark. Nearly. There is a thin strip of bloody burgundy at the horizon. I feel my insides swish with the swaying of the boat, with the rustling of the waves, making their way over the voice of Sara Bareilles singing over my iPod (get her CD, fantastic). I am on the final course of our Alaskan cruise (a graduation present for my little brother’s escape from high school).
It is the first time I have blogged in what seems like forever. Long enough that I have forgotten how to write, long enough for people to have stopped caring, long enough for my life to have changed yet again.
The most drastic life change? Yesterday, I finished a four day run-through of the final Harry Potter book. I will no longer be able to look forward to another voyeuristic voyage into the world of Hogwarts and Potterdom. Of course, I will, as with all of the other six books, continue to re-read and re-listen (on CD) to them at fairly frequent intervals. Harry, Ron, Hermione, and all of them have become steadfast friends, and I will not abandon our relationship simply because the fight with Voldermort has ceased. Deathly Hallows was a fitting final treasure.
In addition to friends killing vicious wizards, I have come out of what has been an insane month. I have finished grad school. I can’t believe how many pages I can actually type out in only a month’s time. It is done though. Nothing else to do for graduate level GPA and framed paper. Excited? Proud? Awed and Inspired? Nah. Just glad it is over. Glad that hoop has been jumped. Sad that I will have to go back to work. I start my teaching job in four days.
In some ways I am more nervous than I was when I finished my undergrad degree. I have had the luxury of living on loans the past year and now I am completely maxed out, and don’t really think I can create an adequate budget on my now ‘elevated’ salary. Oh, well, I can always sell blood. No, wait. Gay. Can’t do that. Sell my hair, it’s pretty. Too short. Sperm. I wonder if that is paid for per teaspoon or gallon….. have to check into that……
The scariest aspect of leaving academia? I have to go for it now. I will need a couple months to really get settled at my new school and position. Then, I have to go for it. I have to write the novel. I have to make it good. I then have to try to figure out what the next step of that process is. I know I can teach. I know I can work with people. I know I can take a pompous class and pass it with an A based on little more than my finger’s ability to strum out five-cent words and charm. I know I can do everyday life and survive fairly successfully. However, can I try to reach my dreams and fantasies now? Outside of choosing to embrace the real me, the Brandon I was born, the gay man, I have lived my life on the safe side, never truly taking a risk. This novelist and children’s book author/illustrator is terrifying. There are no safety nets. There are no guarantees of acceptance. I could suck, and suck royally. (Keep your lame, middle school humor to yourself.) I want to find out, though.
On another note, Chad and I have gone through our first trial as a couple. We have come out on the other side even closer than before. A few weeks ago, Chad had to have an emergency appendectomy and was in the hospital for a few days. Recovery took a couple weeks, in which I decided to have a little out-patient procedure of my own. We both learned much about each other. Chad is not a friend of needles, and Brandon has a hard time accepting help from others. Wow. This relationship stuff is scary as fuck. It is also completely amazing. Not counting my chickens (at least trying not to), but it is crazy when it just fits right. It is almost easy. Almost. I love it. I love him. I love us.
I have been blogging for nearly a year now. I have realized I blog best when I am hurting and pissed. I guess if poorer blogging is the cost of a happier personal life, bring on the duller blogs. I hope to continue the process though, as it acts as cheap therapy, a sounding board, and a muse. I will have to see how this next phase of life shapes up. Honest-to-goodness career, honest-to-goodness relationship, honest-to-goodness bills, honest-to-goodness grown-up. Wow. Bring on the mini-van.