3.29.02
Two years ago tonight, I started this journal. It's been amusing to go back and see how much I've changed, how much everyone around me has changed, and how much I have to look back on. I'm not sure if I'll look back on it and laugh, cry, or chuckle nervously and change the subject; all that matters is that I'll have something to remember these hellish high school years by.
I'm exhausted, honestly. We had today off because it's Good Friday, but I was still up at 8. I cleaned my room and my car, then went to work from 10-6. Without a break. I enjoyed it, but not quite enough to want to stick around afterwards. Not that I had a choice; I had to go out to dinner with my family. They tried to tell me I had to stay in tonight; I got pissed. It is, after all, a Friday night. So Kitz came over instead, and we dorked around on bass for a while and the like. It was fun.
My last entry was depressing. If I was feeling as crappy as I did on Wednesday night, this entry would be depressing too. I was pissed because my parents were being dicks about my schedule and Charles was being a dick because he's a dick. So it all worked out logically, even if I was still quite pissed off with the way things were going. I thought I might have made a friend; instead, I gave him a legitimate excuse for never speaking to me again, which I'm positive he'll use wisely.
I had a great conversation with Justin last night. Soft-spoken and spacey as he is, he's an intelligent person with a fun sense of humor and a lot of thought put into things. He's an outdoors-y type, which is cool; he seems like he'd be perfectly happy to live in the woods for the rest of his life. And I suppose I would be too. That's what we talked about; how to be happy in life without really trying. I just need to be able to think and write and talk to interesting people. And I think that as long as I have something interesting to say, I can weed out the people I want to talk to. So we chatted about life - his and mine - for about thirty minutes. Then I hung out with the staff for a while, and went home. I've been spending way too much time at Peak lately; Thursday I went there pretty much right after school, worked a party, climbed, and hung out until eleven. I was there working for 8 hours today, and I'm doing another 8 hour shift tomorrow. Not that I mind; the people and the work is fun and I wouldn't want to be doing anything else.
Which is good, because if my parents get their say, I won't be doing anything else for a long time. My grades are less than stellar, and they know it. I don't care, really. I don't need to go to an Ivy League school to be happy. College is important to me, but the name on the sweatshirt isn't nearly as important as whether or not I want to be there. And since I have absolutely no way of knowing what I'm looking for (having been at the same school since I was five), I'm convinced I'll be happy anywhere.
I know I won't be, of course, but most anywhere's better than here. I'm just ready to graduate. All of my friends are getting into colleges, all of them are feeling the Senior Slack and loving life. Me? I'm screwed in Physics and have insane parents. Party on.
So what's been up in the past year? I've come to some startling conclusions about life. I found a second home in Peak...was that less than a year ago? Yeah, it was. Odd, that. I've been in and out of screwed-up relationships enough to make your head spin. Mostly out, but that's okay. I've had...no more than three real dates (dances don't count.) I've met some amazing people, and I love them all. Taylor, Pete, John, Justin, Steven, Dustin, Jay, Julie, John, Bobby, Pat, Amy...I've gotten closer to people like James and Schewel and Simon and B...people who I always knew but was kinda scared to approach. Now they're my friends, and I'll miss them. I think I've felt angst towards every single one of my friends, criticized them all for their bad decisions, and told them I loved them plenty. At least, I hope I have. I've gotten a little more cynical about life, love, and everything else, but that shouldn't come as a surprise to anyone. Mr. Weiser claims to be cynically the happiest person alive. He's content with how he is; I wish I could be that cheerful.
And what about the future? Eh, who cares? I just need to get through the next year, get my diploma, and move on to better things. Who knows; maybe next year, I'll have a book out. Maybe I'll have a boyfriend. Maybe I'll have finally gotten through to my parents. Maybe I'll be in a band. Maybe I'll be a 5.12 climber.
And maybe I'll be dead.
Don't go away; it's about to get exciting.