Golden State

I did, I had a great day today. I certainly maximized last day of break potential.

See, on the last day of any given break, it's good to do something. This something cannot be over the top, but it can't suck either. So on the last day of break, you would not want to go to Philadelphia or New York with your best friend(s) and have a great time. Save that for the day before last. You also wouldn't want to try to cram your homework in and end up wasting all your precious fucking daylight hours wallowing over penmanship in your kitchen/room/study.

What I did was this. I woke up without too much trouble (unlike yesterday's terrible arousal) and went to church with the fam. It was surprisingly engaging and the priest, unfamiliar to me, delivered a pretty welcoming homily. Ok, not bad. Then, to Wawa, for my first coffee since the teeth. I was avoiding things that were too temperature intensive. Actually, just hot things because I was (and still am) going crazy crazy crazy for ice cream. I waited to drink it, for fear that the small hole you have to drink through would require me doing some kind of sucking, something I'm totally supposed to (and willing to) avoid. When I arrived home, I poured it into one of my favorite mugs (we have three or four of the same kind) and enjoyed it. It was great to drink coffee again! I love coffee! Have I told you that? Mimi made eggs for everyone and even though I didn't want any (full from the night before) I had some and I made them comfortable atop an English muffin. I was given an assignment: clean mom's car. Then, I would be allowed to "do as I please."

It was noon, so This American Life was on. I listened as I cleaned. Surfaces were dusted back to their original black matte with Windex while I heard a sorry and upsetting story of a Muslim girl and her troubles at elementary school. When Car Talk came on, I vacuumed over the din that originates in the entertaining yammering of the brothers Tapitt (sp?). Needless to say, NPR is delightful on Sundays. Every day.



Assignment completed and Dad asked me to collect firewood with him. But sometime between then and the night before I decided that my privileged week of freedom where I am at liberty to take a trip, usually the coast, let's call it "senior week" would be this: a week of camping on Ocracoke Island, far down the coastal anomaly we call the Outer Banks. I love it there. I figured that it would be a symbolic way to put high school behind me... I pretend I hate saying it that way, but truthfully that's how I feel. (All interested parties, do apply! 18 dollars a night is unbeatable. Also, where is your sense of adventure? Do this, plz?) Segue to this: I'm not ready to say goodbye to childhood, but high school has gone too far. I can feel this way because high school, well my high school, infringes on my childishness and innocence and gets me down. Though, it does provide for lots of great frustration, ideas, emotion etc. that could fuel writing...something that a dear friend, Allison Berger, pointed out to me today. So how should I feel about high school? Fuck it.

Anyway.

We got firewood, I watched twenty minutes of a Johnny Knoxville movie (Grand Theft Parsons. I love Johnny, I love Gram Parsons. I loved GTP.) Deodorized, left. Drove, to Wayne, 926 listening to X. I got to Wayne, actually the corner of Wayne Ave. and Lancaster Ave. known to local youth as "the corner" (that shit rules.) Oh, why.

That's right, Allison and I were going to do the talking face to face thing which is something we get to do when we have time and she's home from college. Background: Allison and I met at the Hanson concert and began a neat friendship. She likes to write and is best described as totally awesome and a real flower of a human being (I mean that in the most positive way. She really does make me think of flowers.)

So we had a good conversation like usual and went our separate ways. She gave me her mix (something we do) which is great and made me want to cry. Afterward, I went to my Aunt Sheila's because she's so nearby and helped her prepare dinner. Cousin Sean came home and we sat around and spat words which is great. Dinner was delicious. Borders (bought LOL, the Rivers Cuomo demos cd [amazingly personal, only one dud] and the new issue of Mojo), sped home. I missed the place, I really really did. I love my family, they help me out. I wrote some thank you notes complete with drawings that obviously pined for a quirkiness that I do not have. (Begs the question, and do answer: if you received a thank you note, would you appreciate it if someone doodled a cute, applicable drawing on the white part?) But I tried to go there because I convinced myself yes, I was quirky enough to doodle on thank you notes to my relatives in an effort to seem "special" (?). Sometimes, I wonder. It was fun, writing the thank-yous, and kind of therapeutic.



That's my moody-face and I. That's me not wanting to go to school tomorrow and taking a stereotypically moody shot to prove it to you on my blog. That's me exhibiting my grievances in a photograph so I didn't have to write it out. But I wrote it anyway. It wouldn't be so bad if the year was over with the semester in two weeks, leaving me with four months to be alive, but it's not at all. It's four and a half months of broken windows discipline, shape-ups, bad outfits, phonies, Mr. Longo, terrible taste, unhealthy lunches, overbearing girlfriends and oversexed relationships, late or never turned in assignments, lack of attention in class, not meeting potential, keeping my ride waiting, being clean-shaven and ready for the fucking grind baby because it's cominatchya over the course of seven soul-sucking hours and six mind-numbing class periods, letting you know who's boss and it's just that inevitable.

I don't want to have to say things like that! But a little bit of me does, the schooled part, the one that doesn't want to face that day anymore. The one ready to make a move because the rest of me outright refuses to. I hate school. I never do homework. Where is this going? Wrap it up: Maybe this week I'll find out if I got into Temple and hopefully I'll be totally pleased.

The last two weeks in summation: despite working hard for a few days and getting my wisdom teeth out, break was delightful. Even the teeth and the dry socket, which for some reason I think is really really funny. It was all growing up, it was all fun, learning, all so soothing.

Wow, if you got this far I owe you at least a dollar. Goodnight, it'z keep ya head up Mondizzle!