"keep breathing...." 2003-01-05 - 5:17 p.m.
songs of the moment: Radiohead - "Pablo Honey" onwards through "OK computer"
Apparently I am plotting my destruction by lime Tic Tacs. These things are absolutely deadly. And I just consumed an entire box. Tic Tacs certainly do make acceptable meals. I once had a box of orange ones for lunch one day. But no. Not the lime ones.
My sister goes back to school tomorrow. She is at TTT (Aragorn is probably busting through the doors as I write this *sigh*). She left the house looking like a grungeoid regurgitated from the bowels of 1994. Don't get me wrong. I loved flannel. I wore it every single day. In 1994. Kids these days. Anyway, the point is, I am stuck in this dump for two more whole weeks. As exciting as it is that they sell boxes of Franzia in the grocery store, this place as a whole is not exciting. I'm sure two weeks ago I was excited to be getting away. But South Central Bumblefuck, Crap State, is really not a good place to spend a vacation. Especially when you are stuck with no car. I laughed at my sister when she had to take driver's ed in school, as they got rid of that at my high school a long time ago. I told her that they spend money on the arts and things at my school. But, now that I'm here, I can see how important driving must be to these kids. Actually, I don't think it would be a great issue if my 15 year old sister does get her license before me. It would be like some kind of divine justice. After all, for too long I was the "perfect" one. We all know that reputation has been totally destroyed.
I just want to go home. I could be working. Money would be a nice thing to have. I could actually go to grad school if I had it. Come to think of it, my music history and theory books are at home. I could actually start studying that stuff. I could be doing so many things. Waaah waah waah.
On an unrelated note, perhaps I was just watching "Legally Blonde" last night, but it has occurred to me that perhaps I too have the equipment, but have not read the manual.
Anyway, another thing I've been thinking of. Popularity. I could never deal with it. As a shy little wallflower, people have always scared me. I don't like the feeling of lots of pairs of eyes on me. Except when I'm playing my flute of course. I don't know what it is about being alone on an empty stage with my flute. I become someone I'm not. Confident, perhaps? I dunno. But yet I always admired the popular people (not the "preps" from high school that is). The friendly, happy, NICE people who have the power to brighten up any room simply by walking in. And then there was little me, in the corner, shy and quiet. It takes forever for me to make friends. For me, "friend" is not a word to throw around lightly. I don't seek "friends" like I used to strive to have the most baseball cards. I don't think of friends as rows of paper faces in a big thick book, only to be looked at when you feel like it. Do the friendly, happy, NICE popular people think this way? Or are their many friends equally special to them? My stupid little mind doesn't understand these things. Empty promises bother me. "Yeah, let's hang out sometime." When? Soon enough sometime just becomes a memory. As do these "friends".
That said, I miss people. Or "people" in the singular form. NICE people.
Well, now for a public service announcement to those of you reading this for are still lucky enough to be in college. Stay there. Don't graduate. The real world sucks! Thank you. That is all.
I will now do the world a favor and shut up. Have a lovely evening.