Full Circle

1. On Thursday night, I received the list of people invited to join next year's "teefa" corps; of particular interest were the seven I interviewed who met the acceptance rubric. This is the first time that I've personally played a role in the inception of new corps members. I cursed selection the entire time I was doing it, but now I understand--it lends ownership to the product I sell everyday. These aren't just random corps members; they are MY corps members, and they are friggin' awesome.

2. On Friday evening we held a baby shower/going away party for Debi, who moves to a secret city in Tennessee this weekend with her husband and not-yet-birthed baby Olive. We all started crying as soon as Debi and Harley left the driveway, which led to a reminiscent "Who met who through whom?" conversation.

3. Later, in the car, R.J. asked if I was going to cry any more. "The thing is," I answered through tight throat, "I'm sad that Debi's leaving, but it's not just Debi. Last year when Lana and Andrea and Jen all left, I had just started a new job--I was busy, I had sh-t to do--I didn't have time to be sad or cry. Now I have time, and I'm sad about all of it."

4. The inner dialogue strikes back: And let's not try to portray ourselves as saints. Anytime we're sad because x person left, our emotions are wholly engrossed in self-pity as well. How could she leave me? I feel abandoned. He managed to leave here, and I have not been able to do, which means I must be a loser. I talk grad school, and she's actually doing it. I talk marriage and kids, and he's actually doing it. In short, in this light of leaving, our own accomplishments and worth seem irrationally pale and indistinguishable.

5. Q: When is it hard to keep in touch with those who have left/you have left?
A: When you're not sure they'd approve of your life in their absence.