Title: The Diary of Donnatella Moss
Author: Rhasa
Rating: PG-13
Category: Drama/Angst
Spoilers: None - I think.
Disclaimer: These characters belong to Aaron Sorkin and all his
neighbourhood friends. I'm making no money off this. No infringement is
intended. What I would give to be invited to play in Aaron's sandbox.
Feedback: Makes me write Rhasa4@yahoo.com
The Diary of Donnatella Moss Entry 4 'Not so cool and calm' By Rhasa
I don't know what's wrong with me. I don't know why I always seem to write in here when I'm having a problem. These pages should be called the problem pages. Seldom are they filled with happy events. I turn to these lines and these words only to describe confused moments, angry moments, sad moments, hell even nervous moments, but rarely happy moments.
In real life I'm really not the totally self-doubting, depressed nervous wreck of a woman that seems to lurk in these pages.
No. Outside of this book, I'm Donna.
I'm intriguing.
Beguiling.
Perky.
Quirky.
And Impervious.
That is, I am all those things elsewhere, just not here.
Which I suppose is a good thing. But sometimes I get sick of keeping up the façade. The "everything-is-totally-okay-in-my-life" façade. I get sick of putting on a semi-smiling face and laughing my semi-happy laugh, when deep down all I want to do is go back home and curl up under my covers for a few months or years. But I'll only admit that in here. Thoughts like that one aren't usual part of my standard behaviour.
I think a lot about just how much my standards have changed over the years. Well, I guess I mean my expectations more than my standards. When I was in high school, I thought about what I wanted out of life, what I wanted for my future, about as much as everyone else did. I worried about my potential. Would I get into college; would I find someone to love me; would I have an exciting career- that kind of stuff. And when I really thought about it, I was sure that I would have all those things, in one way or another.
My parents had always told me that I could achieve anything if I put my mind to it. I know they were right- to an extent. I always found it odd that my mother would give me those little pep talks (which seemed to become more and more frequent during my senior year) mostly when we were together in the kitchen. She would be showing me how to cook one thing or another, or how to reverse a collar on one of dad's shirts, preparing me for my domestic duties all the while telling me I could have any career I wanted if I wanted it badly enough. To this day she doesn't understand why I got so annoyed at her for saying that. It was nice to know my parents believed in me, but what message was she really conveying as she told me to reach for the stars all the while teaching how to fall back on being a housewife? I could achieve anything and I could also starch socks with egg whites. The world would be at my feet.
But some things I knew then I would never achieve. Like getting into Yale or Harvard - nope, just wasn't going to happen (not that I wanted to go to Yale or Harvard), or dating the Captain of the football Team (Andrew Hawkings - yummy! I think he's now a gay activist.) - never happened; or becoming a lawyer, or a doctor or an occupational health therapist - strike on all three counts. So I learned, as I guess all of us do, to change my expectations. No Yale or Harvard but maybe U of Wisconsin. No Andrew Hawkings but maybe Tommy Reardon (head of the debating club). No doctor or lawyer or occupational health therapist but maybe a teacher or nurse or school counsellor.
My expectations changed. Despite what my parents told me I could achieve I revised my expectations - downwards, which, in truth was more realistic, but it was downwards nonetheless. I guess the whole problem at the moment, is that at this age I just never figured I would still be revising my expectations downwards. I thought that by now I would have achieved - well, more.
I know I have no right to complain, and I'm not really complaining. Maybe I'm lamenting. My Nanna Moss always said, "You make your bed- you lie in it." And I guess that's what I did with the whole college/Dr Freeride thing. I never knew, though, that loving someone, or at least thinking you love someone could ruin all three goals - the happy ever after fairytale, the successful college degree and the subsequent more successful career.
For the past five or so years I have always told myself that I will get back to those goals. But I now wonder if I'm kidding myself. Who begins college at my age? I know some do but not many. As for the career, I may always have a job, I guess working for the White House is always going to look good on a resume, it won't be the McDonald's drive thru for me, but I don't know if I'll have a "career' as such. And as for finding someone who will love me. As for finding someone to share my life with. I can't help it. Just writing about it causes a lump in my throat. As for finding that special someone - I don't know if that's ever going to happen. What scares me most, is that maybe I just might have to revise that particular expectation downwards once again.
My mother also told me that there is always someone out there for everyone. She told me, right after I got braces, that I 'was' lovable. That someone, somewhere would love me and love me forever. Now, I wonder if she wasn't stretching that a bit too far, just like she did with her belief that I could do anything.
If I look at it in a clinical sort of way, not everyone has someone in their lives. There are many, many lonely people out there. I guess I just hoped that one of them wouldn't be me.
For some reason I feel as if I am running out of time. No, it's not my biological clock or anything. I don't want kids - well at least not right now; that's the furthest thing from my mind. But the longer it gets the harder it gets somehow; which is why I'm thinking, albeit in this moment of weakness, that I should confront Josh about what is happening between us.
I know I said that I would wait. I know I said I wouldn't be asserting myself anytime soon, and that I had decided to remain confused, but suddenly I have to know, for so many different reasons.
I have to know if I am wasting my time, dreaming, hoping for something that may never eventuate. I have to know if I should be revising my expectations. I have to figure out if I will be contented to have his friendship if that is the only thing on offer. I guess I'm kind of impatient like that.
And here I was thinking that I was being so calm and cool about it all.
Feedback: Have I already said just how much fb makes my day? Please.. Rhasa4@yahoo.com
Author's Note -
Some of you are concerned that Donna's diary entries are too dark for her - that she would be - more.more Donnaish. I guess that means you think she would be perkier or whatever defining characteristic you have assigned to her. I think that Donna would have to have an outlet for her darker moods, her confusion, and a place to sort out problems. I mean everyone has problems, Donna is not immune. So I have made that place her diary - hence the darker side of Donna comes out in her entries and this one in particular. These pages are not always a place for her to be funny or quirky or quick. If you think otherwise - sorry, this is just how I'm writing it at the moment.
The Diary of Donnatella Moss Entry 4 'Not so cool and calm' By Rhasa
I don't know what's wrong with me. I don't know why I always seem to write in here when I'm having a problem. These pages should be called the problem pages. Seldom are they filled with happy events. I turn to these lines and these words only to describe confused moments, angry moments, sad moments, hell even nervous moments, but rarely happy moments.
In real life I'm really not the totally self-doubting, depressed nervous wreck of a woman that seems to lurk in these pages.
No. Outside of this book, I'm Donna.
I'm intriguing.
Beguiling.
Perky.
Quirky.
And Impervious.
That is, I am all those things elsewhere, just not here.
Which I suppose is a good thing. But sometimes I get sick of keeping up the façade. The "everything-is-totally-okay-in-my-life" façade. I get sick of putting on a semi-smiling face and laughing my semi-happy laugh, when deep down all I want to do is go back home and curl up under my covers for a few months or years. But I'll only admit that in here. Thoughts like that one aren't usual part of my standard behaviour.
I think a lot about just how much my standards have changed over the years. Well, I guess I mean my expectations more than my standards. When I was in high school, I thought about what I wanted out of life, what I wanted for my future, about as much as everyone else did. I worried about my potential. Would I get into college; would I find someone to love me; would I have an exciting career- that kind of stuff. And when I really thought about it, I was sure that I would have all those things, in one way or another.
My parents had always told me that I could achieve anything if I put my mind to it. I know they were right- to an extent. I always found it odd that my mother would give me those little pep talks (which seemed to become more and more frequent during my senior year) mostly when we were together in the kitchen. She would be showing me how to cook one thing or another, or how to reverse a collar on one of dad's shirts, preparing me for my domestic duties all the while telling me I could have any career I wanted if I wanted it badly enough. To this day she doesn't understand why I got so annoyed at her for saying that. It was nice to know my parents believed in me, but what message was she really conveying as she told me to reach for the stars all the while teaching how to fall back on being a housewife? I could achieve anything and I could also starch socks with egg whites. The world would be at my feet.
But some things I knew then I would never achieve. Like getting into Yale or Harvard - nope, just wasn't going to happen (not that I wanted to go to Yale or Harvard), or dating the Captain of the football Team (Andrew Hawkings - yummy! I think he's now a gay activist.) - never happened; or becoming a lawyer, or a doctor or an occupational health therapist - strike on all three counts. So I learned, as I guess all of us do, to change my expectations. No Yale or Harvard but maybe U of Wisconsin. No Andrew Hawkings but maybe Tommy Reardon (head of the debating club). No doctor or lawyer or occupational health therapist but maybe a teacher or nurse or school counsellor.
My expectations changed. Despite what my parents told me I could achieve I revised my expectations - downwards, which, in truth was more realistic, but it was downwards nonetheless. I guess the whole problem at the moment, is that at this age I just never figured I would still be revising my expectations downwards. I thought that by now I would have achieved - well, more.
I know I have no right to complain, and I'm not really complaining. Maybe I'm lamenting. My Nanna Moss always said, "You make your bed- you lie in it." And I guess that's what I did with the whole college/Dr Freeride thing. I never knew, though, that loving someone, or at least thinking you love someone could ruin all three goals - the happy ever after fairytale, the successful college degree and the subsequent more successful career.
For the past five or so years I have always told myself that I will get back to those goals. But I now wonder if I'm kidding myself. Who begins college at my age? I know some do but not many. As for the career, I may always have a job, I guess working for the White House is always going to look good on a resume, it won't be the McDonald's drive thru for me, but I don't know if I'll have a "career' as such. And as for finding someone who will love me. As for finding someone to share my life with. I can't help it. Just writing about it causes a lump in my throat. As for finding that special someone - I don't know if that's ever going to happen. What scares me most, is that maybe I just might have to revise that particular expectation downwards once again.
My mother also told me that there is always someone out there for everyone. She told me, right after I got braces, that I 'was' lovable. That someone, somewhere would love me and love me forever. Now, I wonder if she wasn't stretching that a bit too far, just like she did with her belief that I could do anything.
If I look at it in a clinical sort of way, not everyone has someone in their lives. There are many, many lonely people out there. I guess I just hoped that one of them wouldn't be me.
For some reason I feel as if I am running out of time. No, it's not my biological clock or anything. I don't want kids - well at least not right now; that's the furthest thing from my mind. But the longer it gets the harder it gets somehow; which is why I'm thinking, albeit in this moment of weakness, that I should confront Josh about what is happening between us.
I know I said that I would wait. I know I said I wouldn't be asserting myself anytime soon, and that I had decided to remain confused, but suddenly I have to know, for so many different reasons.
I have to know if I am wasting my time, dreaming, hoping for something that may never eventuate. I have to know if I should be revising my expectations. I have to figure out if I will be contented to have his friendship if that is the only thing on offer. I guess I'm kind of impatient like that.
And here I was thinking that I was being so calm and cool about it all.
Feedback: Have I already said just how much fb makes my day? Please.. Rhasa4@yahoo.com
Author's Note -
Some of you are concerned that Donna's diary entries are too dark for her - that she would be - more.more Donnaish. I guess that means you think she would be perkier or whatever defining characteristic you have assigned to her. I think that Donna would have to have an outlet for her darker moods, her confusion, and a place to sort out problems. I mean everyone has problems, Donna is not immune. So I have made that place her diary - hence the darker side of Donna comes out in her entries and this one in particular. These pages are not always a place for her to be funny or quirky or quick. If you think otherwise - sorry, this is just how I'm writing it at the moment.