That Feel When

That feel when

You hold the door open for someone

And five more people show up behind him

People keep streaming in and out of the door you’re holding

It’s been a couple of minutes that you’ve been standing there while people come and go

Finally there’s an opportunity to close the door

And you take it, because you’ve been standing there forever

But you look back just as the door closes

And someone slams into it at the last second, carrying a heavy basket

By now you’ve walked away, so it’s too late to have helped

Maybe I’m just too helpful?

Sometimes, whenever I encounter someone new, I might flip through their last few tweets/posts to catch up on them. Just a few, you know; maybe their last hundred or so. Until I get a good idea of the person, or until I get bored :P

Last night I had the drive to update a few things around my blog and such, so I decided to be narcissistic and do the same thing for myself.

Normally when I do this for other people, it's people who post things regularly - at least once a day, usually more. I could go PAGES back and still be in the same month as I started. Not so with me, as I don't really post all too often. I was expecting that, but I wasn't expecting the magnitude of it:

I had barely started before the timestamps read August 27, half a year ago.

...maybe I should post more often.

“This week I’m gonna get out and be social again! I’m gonna make new friends and smile at passersby and chat up my friends and be a ray of sunshine to everyone!”

the other six days of the week: “Shut up with all the noise, leave me alone”

The simultaneous "yes"

I didn't participate in a lot of events at my gifted school, mostly because they involved being "social," or "leaving" my room. I remember the dances were the most fun to stay back in the dorms for, because everyone was gone and that meant WAY better internet.

There was, however, one event I always loved to participate in: the Gold Rush, known one year as the Gem Hunt. It was organized annually (or occasionally semi-annually) by a student life advisor named Jim. He was an outdoors-y kind of person, and this was his attempt at getting us students unfused from our keyboards and into the sunshine.

He went out and hid colored rocks around the campus for the students to find. These could be traded for fancy prizes like snacks and stuff. There were a few bigger rocks that were worth a lot more, but they were much more deviously hidden; I remember one up in the nook of a tree, hidden by the leaves. But the best prize was the giant rock, which was always the central focus of the hunt - whoever found it would be granted anything - within reason, of course, which usually meant either worth ~$15, or some sort of service like "a private fire in the back for me and my significant other." In sum, it was kind of like a high-stakes Easter egg hunt.

Our campus was located on top of a college campus, and there were four major routes: two paths from each dorm to the school building, a path between the two dorms, and a path out by the lake. Each time the hunt was on, I went up and down those about ten times each looking for the rocks. Of course, I was always most interested in the big rock, because I could feasibly get a game with it.

The year of the gem hunt (the last one before I went to college), I had made my routes up and down the dorm paths, but hadn't gone out to the lake yet, so I invited one of my closest friends, Eric, to come with me. We agreed that if we found it, we'd split the prize.

The lake path is the longest by far - about half a mile. It's popular with the college students as an exercise path, both for the length and the scenic route. We started at one end and combed the whole path, finding bunches of little rocks that most others had missed. We even found some in pieces of trash, like old chip bags. But there were no large rocks, and the number of small rocks seemed to be fewer towards the end of the path. Moreover, we didn't find the largest rock.

So I convinced Eric to look with me another couple of times. All we found was more trash. I was certain it was somewhere near the lake, as I had already scoured the other paths without success. Finally, after maybe the fifth pass (without finding any more rocks), I conceded and we went back. To give an idea of the time, we started at 3PM and didn't go back until 6.

After eating dinner (and convincing ourselves someone else found it), we went to talk to Jim. I turned in my haul for some snacks and casually mentioned the large rock.

"Yeah, no one found it this time," he said. "I'm pretty proud of where I hid it." "Really?" Eric chimed in. "Can you tell us?" "It's late enough that no one's going to find it, so I suppose... Do you guys remember seeing a crushed styrofoam cup?"

What followed could have come straight out of a movie. Eric and I both turned to each other with shocked realization, then turned back and, with perfect timing, deadpanned:

"Yes."

Because out of all the litter lining the lake, there was only one small styrofoam cup, located near the beginning of the path at the lake's edge. And we had both ruled it out, because the large rock definitely couldn't fit. How could that possibly have worked out?

"There's a small gold rock in there," he explained. "I tied some fishing line to it. On the other end is a plastic bag with the big rock in it. I dropped that into the lake itself. So when someone found the small rock, they would find the large rock."

We all got a good laugh out of it. Although I was mostly laughing at the mind-reading Eric and I did. Secretly, I was screaming at Jim.

friend: i'm here for you if you ever need me!

me: *needs friend*

me: i probably shouldn't bother them

You know what? My life is actually going pretty swell right now.

It’s the beginning of a brand-new quarter. I have a couple of friends in all of my classes, and we’re all working on the homework together. While I don’t have a job yet, I have money for rent this month, and a supportive family for groceries. I’ve been posting mildly regularly, and finding things to say even in real-life conversation. I’m spending time with my friends, and even cooking for them sometimes. Most of all, I’m safe, happy, and well-fed.

I suppose it’s about time for something to come along and screw that up, right? I mean, it IS a little quiet around here. Quiet enough that, normally, life would give me a slap in the face right about now. Like maybe someone steals my wallet? Or one of my classes suddenly changes its homework policy. Or, ooh, maybe the house catches fire! I dunno, some catastrophe like that.

Or maybe I’ve finally settled in. Who knows? It’s kinda sad I’ve become so pessimistic.