a ten-minute dream in the passenger seat

You know, I'm excited beyond words for college, but at the same time it's really stressing me out. It shouldn't be. I think I'm just being ridiculous.

I did a bleeding-on-the-page-with-the-computer-monitor-turned-off thing like we did in junior english, and it was pretty good stress relief. Although the spelling mistakes I knew I was making kind of distracted me.

There are a few people with whom I need to have long, meaningful, face-to-face conversations before going off to school. But I'm too awkward to make those conversations happen when opportunities arise. Blarghabrghafgls.

Going to UW-Milwaukee wouldn't seem like a huge deal, but it was pretty fun. We MASH-ed and doodled on the way there, ate some gigantic slices of pizza, and played the crap out of our music. Our clinician, from UCLA, made me want to go to that college simply because he was so awesome.

I am going to miss band so much next year. It hit me really hard on the bus ride home, when everyone was just laughing and Mr. Gohr was saying things like, "One rule to live by: if everyone else is doing it, do it faster!" I will miss the band room and the comeraderie and the contests and the concerts, and even those dresses and marching band. Most of all, though, I will miss the band room and the family-like atmosphere that can be found there. Wind Ensemble has seriously allowed me to make it through high school with my sanity.


Cool March days put me on edge, anticipating the renewal that comes in Spring. I'm still confused as heck about this whole college deal, but I'm wondering if it's just last-semester-of-senior-year weirdness, and if it'll all clear up soon. I hope so.
I scraped an A out of Calc BC, by some act of the gods. What a way to end the day.
I need to talk to Mr. Jordan. Muy pronto. And figure out all those college visits and whatnot.


Whenever I catch myself wondering where all of this is leading, I have to stop and remember that, in some cases, that's not the important thing. The moment is what matters.

Howie Day is great for moments like this. ♥

Apathy feels good. I don't know where it came from, but it kind of overcame me tonight, and as a result I didn't get anything done. But guess what? I don't really care!

The thing about time lately is that it was sailing along quite nicely for the past few weeks, but all of a sudden it kinda . . . slowed down to a near-standstill. Maybe the trick is just to forget about college letters coming soon, and forget about my countdown of school days left till we graduate, and focus on things . . . Except that I don't really want to do that. I don't want to be mindlessly moving from one activity to another, and yet I do because it makes time move collectively faster.

Sigh. I think I'm just going in circles around myself, like the hands of a clock.

Eighteen seems kind of anti-climactic. I mean, they build it up to be such a great age, with so much privilege and power and responsibility . . . But I suppose all of those things just come with time. Today doesn't seem any different from yesterday, except that my hair is shorter and I feel much better about some things.

In some ways I already miss 17, simply because the snow is here and summer is long gone. However, I will be positive and look forward to what's to come in the second half of my senior year.

I love having a long weekend for my birthday.

In my reading of A Farewell to Arms, I find myself lost amid fragmented sentences like patchwork quilts, each one consisting of several unrelated thoughts tacked together by "and."

Hemingway's style is lost on me.

The point of continuing with this nonstop-stressed-out-can't-really-even-tell-if-I'm-discontent-because-I-don't-have-time-to-reflect thing is also lost on me. Although I don't really know what my options are, realistically. It's not so much a stress factor as just constantly having stuff to do. I feel selfish and lazy, in a way, for wanting to put myself before all these other things . . . But there you are.

My hip feels a lot better, though. So that's good.

"I spent the afternoon musing on Life. If you come to think of it, what a queer thing Life is! So unlike anything else, don't you know, if you see what I mean." -- P.G. Wodehouse

It's strange to have practiced for over an hour today, and even more strange that I spent most of the time working on three measures of music. Now I am taking a break to allow my mind to catch up with my fingers.

I had almost forgotten how to practice like that, it's been so long.

And since I am not being forced to do it, it feels good. Very good. I haven't broken a sweat just sitting in my basement, playing, in a really long time. Music, music, music. At one point I closed my eyes, since I had memorized what I was working on, and just kept looping the stuff over and over. It was like I wasn't separate from the instrument anymore . . .

Yeah, I know that sounds really lame. But ah! MUSIC!

I want to be able to read a book and pick up on themes and metaphors on my own. I actually enjoyed Gatsby the second time around, but that's probably because the summer English assignment told us what to look for - I noticed more, understood more, and actually would agree that the novel has a point, now.

Maybe I'm not cut out to be an English major?

Hmmm.

This being cooped up and ill has made me become really irritable and whiny. Sorry.

You know what I realized today? I think I am becoming more like my old worrying self again. If everything's not perfect lately, I've been freaking out and having weird spaz attacks at people (mostly my mom. Gah. I am such a horrible human being.). I need to work on this. A lot.

It's disappointing to realize that, after so much effort and reflection, I have regressed to being a lot like I was a couple of years ago. And I was beginning to get good at optomism, living in the moment, and not obsessing over detail. Maybe I'll go and visit Mr. Jordan when school starts. He's a good guy to talk to about such things.

The more I think about it, the more life seems to be a matter of perspective. You think you've got it rough, and then something horrible happens to someone and you think, "Wow. I wish I knew what I could do for them." All of a sudden, you're the one with more, the one with something to give - only you don't really know what to give.

I don't really know what I'm talking about, but I have, over time, come to the realization that keeping things in perspective and maintaining a level head is very, very important. That isn't to say I've been 100% successful in doing so, but it would be great if I could. Many of the things that really get me upset are, in reality, quite trivial when I think about them relative to problems others may be facing.

Yeah, I'll shut up now.