Encounters

I was picking up my refund check today at the designated refund check building when I ran into my former counselor, who happens to reside in the same building.  As I walked out the door and went down the steps, I saw his horse face and gray ponytail being tossed around by the cool breeze.  Oh, crap.

I faked a smile as he stopped and smiled at me.  I stopped as well and he held out his hand.  I took his hand and he started pumping mine hard.

"So, are you the king of Opp, Alabama yet?"

"Eeeh, no, not yet.  Working on it," I said, wondering when he was gonna let go of my hand.  I found it weird that he remembered where I lived.  I hadn’t spoken to him in two years.  Sure, he’d probably remember my face but I thought he had most likely forgotten the details of our sessions.  

"So, what’s new?" he asked.  I stared at the massive bags under his eyes and then turned my attention to his teeth.  He must have just came back from lunch ’cause he had all sorts of leftovers lodged in his crooked, stained teeth.

"Not much, just about to graduate next month," I responded.  

His bagged eyes lit up.  "Congratulations!"

"Thanks."

"Well, it’s good to see you’re doing well."

"Thank you."

"Have a good day."

"You as well."

It was really awkward and I felt uneasy during our exchange.  I walked off and cursed my horrible timing.  If only I had gone five minutes earlier or later I wouldn’t have had to run into him.  As a reminder, I took advantage of the free counseling sessions my school had to offer when I first arrived and was bombarded with bad teachers, bad roommates, and consequently a bad attitude.  Unfortunately, I was also hooked up with a bad counselor.  He basically blamed me for blowing my situation out of proportion and said I was making my ex roommate out to be the enemy.  Ironically, my ex roommate threatened to make my life a living hell if I didn’t get the hell out of our room.  So, I guess I shoved those words into his mouth.  I vowed never to go back for any more of his "counseling" ever again.

Much to my chagrin, I wasn’t able to avoid him completely.  I’ve had other minor encounters with him throughout the years.  During finals, some shmuck dressed up like a circus freak hands out free pizzas to all the sleep-starved kids.  Guess who the shmuck was?  Yeah, the counselor.  I remember the first time I saw him dressed up in a yellow jump suit and goofy hat, a stack of pizzas balanced across his arm and once again I thought Oh, crap.  I’ve also seen him once or twice before at the building where he works.

I spotted another ghost from my past last week while I was at the gym.  I was briskly walking on the treadmill when I looked to my right and saw the wicked witch of the west on an exercise bike.  Whoops, I’m sorry, it wasn’t the witch, it was my color theory professor from my first year.  My bad, I get those two mixed up all the time.  I literally did a double take when I saw her over there, all 60 pounds of her, sweat dripping from her wrinkled face like acid rain, her bleach blonde hair matted to her skeletal forehead, her twig-like legs pumping up and down like freaking locomotive valve gear.  She was really working that bike, almost as if she was envisioning mowing down a small puppy or someone’s dreams.  Hm, and I thought she just got all of her exercise from tearing down student’s art from the walls.  Yes, she is a horrible, horrible person.

She was my first professor that I had in my first class my first year at SCAD.  And she was a big part of the reason why I didn’t want to come back after my first quarter.  I can still hear her British voice piercing my ears like hot pokers.  

Are you daft?

What is this?  Garbage!

Are you kidding me with his piece?

Absolutely dreadful.

Every time I’d show a piece for critique, I felt like I was being ridiculed by Simon Cowell from American Idol.  It’s amazing the difference between how she appears and how she is.  She literally only came up to my chest.  She looks like a fragile grandmotherly type.  But, no.  She’s just a monster.  She was the stereotypical a-hole professor and I think she embraced it.  It was as if she felt entitled to be nasty just because of her position and I hate that.  I can’t stand when people intentionally try to fit into certain molds and she is a classic case of that.  She constantly crapped on my work.  I admit that a lot of it wasn’t good but I was also very green.  I had no previous experience with different software programs that could have been used to enhance my projects.  Everyone else did so naturally their work definitely made mine look worse.  The point is, she didn’t have to be so cruel in her critiques.  If she was a true artist herself, she’d know that each project is an extension of the individual, a piece of their heart and soul that has been pulled out and slapped on paper for all the world to see.  And for her to stand there and completely belittle someone’s work is not acceptable.

It’s funny how I’m running into all of these people again.  It seems like everyone I met during my first year are now showing up again during my final year.  I’m just waiting for Keith to show up.  Oh wait, I see him nearly every day in the face of every indie kid with a beard and glasses.

What’s funnier than running into these people is how I feel about them.  I used to despise these people.  I was mad at Keith for making me feel like dirt.  I was mad at my professor for making me feel untalented.  I was mad at my counselor for making me feel like it was all my fault.  But time and separation (as well as a lot of introspection and complete heart failure) has a way of changing things around.  Sure, there is some residual negativity there but it’s not nearly as powerful as it once was.  I realized that people are just a-holes and I can’t hold it against them personally.  I realized that they would have acted that way toward anyone else, not just me.  It’s how they are built.  And so I let a lot of those bad feelings go.  There’s a lyric from Sia’s song You have Been Loved that goes "Oh, will you ever know that the bitterness and anger left me long, long ago/ Only sadness remains/ And it will pass."  That’s pretty much how I feel.  Of course I’m not all the way okay with these people but in time I will be.

I suppose Keith, my counselor, and my professor represent all of the hopes I had for my time at school.  Keith represented all the friends I hoped I would make, all the love that would accumulate around me.  My professor represented all the teachers that I hoped would recognize my potential and nurture that into an incredible talent.  And when everything went downhill, my counselor represented the idea of someone understanding, of people out there who gave a crap about me and my situation and who would make me feel like I wasn’t crazy.  All of those hopes were ripped away.

I’ve learned not to put a lot of faith in people.  I’ve learned to have no expectations because when I don’t, I’m not met with disappointment.  Sure, I know that sounds like I’m closing myself off and I freely admit that I am but at this point in time, I’d rather distance myself from others rather than feel a constant sense of dissatisfaction.  I’ve learned to take people for what they are (not much) rather than what I want them to be.  I’ve reached a point in my life where I don’t harbor any hatred for anyone and I believe this new way of thinking will help keep it that way.  At least until a better solution comes along.

Seeing all of these old people just made me realize that I am not mad at them anymore.  Sure, I have bad memories of them but for the most part, no bad feelings.

Seeing these people at the beginning and end of my stay at school feels like a full circle.

It also feels a lot like closure.