Much has happened, I guess, but honestly, not much has changed. We stayed in a hotel for a while while movers took all of our stuff out of one place and put all of our stuff into another place. Now our house is big instead of small, and rather clean and white and suburban looking instead of old and cheap and decaying. My room echoes. We have three bathrooms and a garage and we live in a nice, pretty-in-a-quirky-sort-of-way part of town. I guess that when I think about this, it is nice. But overall, it is not something that I care about deeply. Maybe you've noticed this, based on the fact that I haven't talked about it much at all. Maybe it would have been even more noticable if you'd been able to compare me to my parents, who basically haven't talked about anything but real estate for the past four months. I want to yell at them a little. "They're just walls! That's all this is - walls and a floor and a celing. Yes, the walls are much more comfortable now. Enjoy it. But move on. There are much more interesting things to talk about." But their conversations are still filled with closings and signings and french doors and paladian windows and central air.
The other notable thing is that it's summer. I bet that was pretty obvious at this point. I meant to write about it, but... I don't know. I guess it took a while to get over the shock of the drum major thing, and then to deal with being an a different place. Besides that, I haven't been very aware of the passing of time recently. It has already been summer for two weeks and it's just starting to sink in. Now I'm not sure how I got here already. July seventh.
I guess Junior year will be remembered as an extremely interesting, but not so spectacular year. This was the year that I lost. I aspired to have things I couldn't have and be things I couldn't be, and life didn't exactly go easy on me. I even feel like I lost at Odyssey - I got a B on my final essay, the essay that I thought would be brilliant, because I tried to make it brilliant. We read them in a seminar format. The class tore mine apart.
And I ended up with a C+ in precalc, for no other reason than that I am just not smart enough anymore. And I am taking AB next year, with... <font size="2">normal people!</font> When I went to the meeting to pick up the summer work, I felt terribly out of place socially. There was only one Asian kid, and the male female ratio was one to one, and the boys were wearing baseball caps and the girls were carrying designer purses and people was talking about sports. And I thought, "What? These people are in my math class? I don't belong here!" But then another part of me said, "No, obviously you do, you giant elitist snot. There are people here who did significantly better than you in Hoffman's class." (Adam was at the meeting, by the way, looking distainful and aloof and telling anyone who would listen that he wanted to take BC, it just wouldn't fit into his schedule. The big liar. He hasn't taken an enriched class the whole time he's been in highschool.)
Drum major still isn't a major emotional crisis, but it's a disappointment. It's a defeat. It's something that could have been so awesome that not having it has become a constant, faint, but sharp pain in the pit of my stomach. Lately I've had the feeling that I am sad, but because of some event that I can't quite remember. I can't exactly put my finger on it no matter how hard I try, but I think this must have something to do with it. I am not the leader. I am not the best.
"But how does it feel to be number two, huh?" says a little triumphant voice sometimes, in an attempt to make me feel better. "You know Adam will have no real authority, and Mr. Thomas told you right out that you were the next best after Eric. That means you're second in command. Still an important position, still a title worthy of Aidan O'Connor, I would say. Number two out of sixty. How does that feel?" Usually I tell this little voice to shut up, push all thoughts of marching band out of my head and try to sleep in my huge, empty, white room.
And Julian... Jesus, I don't even have to say anything about Julian. I've gotten the feeling recently that Julian might be fading slowly from the obsessive part of my mind. This makes me a little sad, but I guess it's for the best. I was planning on inviting some people over at some point, and I'm pretty sure he's away right now. Maybe I should just go ahead and have the party without him.
In general, I've been feeling more emotionally fucked up than normal as of late. Maybe it's because I've been hanging out with Tom, who thinks it's funny to play the awkward game with me because he always wins in about two seconds. Maybe it's because I've been hanging out with Molly and Dave, who just seem so fucking happy when they're touching each other. Maybe it's the realization that moving to a bigger place doesn't mean getting away from my parents, who I still don't like all that much and who openly make fun of me for my discomfort with affection whenever it comes up. Maybe it was the extremely unsettling experience of having to make Ann Whatsherface a bagel. (Blueberry. Toasted. Light cream cheese.) I dunno. Maybe it's some combination of these things. Or maybe there's no reason at all.
Well, at least there has been hanging out. At least I have my friends. They are beautiful people who I sometimes wonder how I pulled off. And at least I am excellent in jazz band. That was a significant victory. And I'm starting my own jazz band next year, and I'm already starting to get excited about that. I can still pull off being generally awesome in highschool. I guess taking risks just means you do lose once in a while.
Shit, now I have to apply to college.
That is all.
Loading comments...