Bottoms up.

Everything is changing so fast. I feel like the rock sitting in the middle of the churning rapids. Everything’s passing me by and swirling away. And I’m all thumbs, just twiddling. I read this article today in the Christian Science Monitor and it said 70% of 19 year olds have had sex. I feel silly, but I’m surprised. I really am an odd one out! (I won’t be able to walk into a room of my peers without giggling, trying to find every seven out of ten who’ve DONE IT.) I’ve never felt this kind of social (pressure?) before. I was practically breaking out into hives about it two days ago, but I’ve kind of done the usual thing and been like, “Fuck that (not literally).” I am me. I am oddball. I shouldn’t be ashamed or worried. Not to say that I’ll never feel that way, because I often do, but it’ll be easier to recover if I don’t get too tied down about it.

I suppose I’d just like to be able to say so to somebody, but I can’t think of anyone I know who would fit.

I don’t trust people very much, I guess.

I do kind of like being thought of as a closed book. I know society views that as a bad thing. It’s snobby and misanthropic and exclusive. That’s an opinion not without warrant, but my personal spin on it was always more like, “You are so special to me that I can reveal myself to you.” I suppose the negative qualities of my reluctance to open up co-exist with the positive, now that I think of it.

Much later:

I’m optimistic again. I mean that 80% genuinely and not just saying to cheer myself up. I suppose what I’ll be rambling about won’t make it sound so, but this thing is reading differently since I had to recreate my thoughts due to technical difficulties.

The trial I’m assigned to for jury duty is a rather lengthy case concerning mycology and landlords. I’m excited to get a teeny tiny peek into the judicial process, but the summer is only so long.

Yesterday I watched the last five minutes of Terminator 2. (Spoilers ahead, naturally.) I had to control my tears. When I first saw this movie when I was eight or so, I got teary-eyed at the end. I didn’t understand the plot, but I liked Arnold’s character and I was sad that he had to die. There might be some other thing, too, since I always associated my dad with Arnold (they have vaguely similar jawlines/head shape?). Knowing the plot this time only made it worse. The bit about, "I know now why you cry, but it is something I can never do," hit me hard. I think the worst part came after the robot is almost submerged and it’s just his hand sticking out and he gives a thumbs-up. When he completely disappeared under the molten steel, I nearly had a fit. This treacly kind of shit really gets me in my soft parts! (I’ve just revealed a weakness, and I’m normally paranoid about that kind of thing, but nobody reads this and why would they use this of all things against me anyway? Maybe someone will even think it’s cute.) Maybe I’m just frustrated that things aren’t fair.

I feel really happy after watching good music videos or listening to old time radio detective shows. I don’t know if this is a good thing or a bad thing. I know when I listen to music in public, it’s to make a bubble and make everything more tolerable. It doesn’t fix the bad, but it makes it go away for the duration. I’m worried this is the same thing. I’ve been avoiding my problems too much. I’ve been watching this anime called Paranoia Agent and the message to face things head on has been on my mind like a demon hopping on a door in the floor.

I feel pretty dumb that I didn’t get the message until I read it on Wikipedia. It also doesn’t help that I needed an explanation from there for 2046. I still liked both of those even though their obvious points hadn’t hit me. I hope I subconsciously understood; otherwise, I am a dolt. Or not thinking. Either is bad.

I’m missing the big picture?

I think this, the one week mark, is just about when all this time on my hands starts to really get to me.

When you are young, it is hard to think about later, when you’re older, when your parts don’t work so good anymore. One day, I, me, same old me, will be sitting or doing something and my back will go out or something and I’ll know that I’m getting older or am already there. That just sounds so awful from here. Tradeoff, I guess. Experience and (if things work out) wisdom at the price of my body.

How silly, to have one’s cake and not be able to eat it, too. What the fuck good is the god damn cake, then?

Mid-week:

I am freaked out again. That’s not terribly exciting, but I just wonder where the wrong turn occurred. That is, why I’m inside out sometimes.

The pressure really got to me today. "YOU ARE ABNORMAL AND NOT IN THE SPECIAL WAY." It’s really got me down. Just being that way doesn’t bother me; what makes me anxious is the expectations of people. I don’t want to think about the escalating urgings and chatterings in the coming years that will come if I don’t date someone. It’s not knowing how and being too lazy and low self-esteem that means I won’t dress up and I won’t talk to people.

I don’t know, I might feel more confident if I get some nicer clothes or something. It’s silly to get all worked up about this.

Maybe I just need to work harder to secure my independence. Get a job and move out.

Man, I thought college was going to be that magic re-start button, but so far it hasn’t done much for me.

I am optimistic about the next year.

I was about to say, "I will try not to falter," but people have been telling me that my language is really negative. Lots of nots (knots, too, har-de-har). I can’t bring myself to say "achieve" or "succeed" or something like that. I don’t know if I will. I don’t have that conviction.

Perhaps that’s where I should start.

Summer is here and my mind is wandering. Mostly my thoughts meander over things I’ve already pondered enough times to be sick of them (I’m obsessive-compulsive, to give that some extra punch).

I do it to myself. I read things that piss me off or replay them in my head. I just get angrier and angrier. I want to FIX them. Is there a way to do that? It’s not even like really big issues. It’s just dumb shit concerning people I know. Do I rage needlessly? I should just cut ties if they make me so distraught. I’m not happy and I don’t think they care, so why not just go ahead and cause some hurt feelings? It’s just unpleasant and awkward in its current state. I’ve come here and yammered on about this topic more than once. This time I think I’m really close to actually doing it.

Someone reminded me of that thing about how the frontal lobe where decisions are made isn’t fully developed in a human until age 25 so that explains away why so many young people are so irresponsible and impulsive. I still don’t think that’s any kind of absolution or legitimization for any of that bullshit, though. Can’t we do better than that?

But who am I to get on my moral high horse and talk about people being base and stupid?

It’s very frustrating, this business, and it’s only compounded by the fact that no one I ever talk to is ever willing to directly answer that above question. In my own way, I am just as bad. It’s no good to rail against their specific way of relaxing and having fun. It doesn’t hurt anyone but themselves and it doesn’t directly affect me. If I try to argue the general principle, then I’m just being a fatty hypocrite, because what I do is a useless waste of time, too, and might be even worse because I have no self control and can’t stop. I used to go on and on about work ethic, but my performance the last few years will tell you I just did enough to look good. I did not put forth my best effort no matter what. And that disappoints me.

Perhaps it is late in the year, but since the resolution I sort of made at New Year’s is too easy (eat with my health in mind—which is virtually not a problem now since I’ve come home and next school year I won’t be on such a heavy dining hall plan so I can better control things), I will tentatively promise to myself that I’m going to work harder.

What this whole thing will do to my relations with people, I don’t know. They already went severely downhill this year in part because I was generally very blunt. I do not enjoy tiptoeing for anyone. I don’t want this to be an attitude I need to change, but if the cost is too much…

I do not think I am entirely off base to think that things for me and things for other people would be easier if I largely removed myself from society. I wouldn’t have to change the things I thought were all right, and no one would have to put up with my shit. I do not know if easier can be treated as better, though. I do know that I’m feeling rather lonely.

I’ll try harder not to be so glib. I’ll start with something boring. Found out my grades for the spring quarter. I was really sweating about those things, thinking I’d disappointed everybody. Ended up with all A’s (well, one’s got a minus stuck to it). God damn. I’m kind of disappointed, to be honest. It’s great that I did well but I didn’t try very hard, and I really haven’t been challenging myself this year, and I didn’t have much of a social life so of course I had plenty of time to study and what-not. Next year my load is a bit heavier, so perhaps then I can feel like what I’ve gotten is legitimate. Really, what is more important to me for next year is making some friends. I think that will be hard, but I’ll just have to be more open and talky; that sounds like I’m god damn obligated or something, but I don’t mean it to come out that way—I have to be more open, I mean. And I’ll try to keep in touch with the people I’ve already met.

Maybe it’s sad, but the happiest times of bonding I had during the previous school year were at chemistry study parties. The commiserating, the stories of childhood, the odd little games—that was nice. I probably couldn’t hold down a normal conversation with that group, but while we "studied" or "worked," they were right on. Maybe I just miss community feeling. I miss my high school Japanese class, that’s for sure. The same people, year in, year out, and all the little activities and assignments created this great "we" feeling. "We," as in, "We’re all in it together and we’re not saying die!" Our teacher was a killer, and you had to rely on other people to make it through. It wasn’t cutthroat. As not cutthroat as my high school ever got, anyway. I enjoyed being respected and liked. Maybe they really hated me, I don’t know, but I was somebody and to be thought well of by good people is golden. Goodwill is the best currency in the world. Is it really even currency? "Currency" makes it seem dirty.

It has been hard on me to be without a proper pack this year.

It’s 8 p.m. and the sun’s still not even all the way down yet. Chicago is fucked-up (not necessarily in a bad way). Everything’s all red-orange.

And I’ve got a paragraph of my paper written. I’m really more worried about my two finals tomorrow, though. Of course I can’t dismiss the dread of the lurching horrible pain of cranking out however many pages afterwards.

I have to snap out of it. I’m terrified of doing a crap job, but at this rate, that’s what it’s going to be, so it’s best to just do it. Pull the trigger!

The Futureheads are pretty good, I think. Cute accents, good harmonies. They do seem a bit like another band they’ve been compared to a lot, but maybe because I’m later in the game with this group, I think they’ll have staying power in my book. It’s always nice to have good music for band-aids.

And I think something is happening with me and a boy, but it’s too little, too late. Maybe next year? I can wait.

God damn.

Hop, skip, jump.

Paper finished right under the deadline. Didn’t get to sleep. Am somewhat out of mind at the moment.

I have so many books to return to the school library. I checked out around 34 items but ended up using only about four main texts. That’s how I usually do research papers.

I got a letter from a friend. She has a boyfriend now, I guess. Weird! It’s a guy we went to middle school with. I don’t know if that threw me for a loop, but the letter felt stilted and removed rather than the old comfort.

There was a period some while ago where I really just wanted to skip all the in-between stuff and go straight to the retirement home, and the feeling’s coming back. It just seems like it would be so much easier to already have had the plan laid out for you.

Some time after the flight home.

It’s nice to be back, though I was expecting it to feel more special or something. I’m just glad I’m somewhere clean with good-to-eat things.

Right now is one of those times I wish I had more friends. People I actually like and respect and trust, because outside of family, that’s one person, but she’s got some things of her own to deal with. One of my former roommates said to me that it was quite a lucky thing to even have the one, so I could probably be happy enough with people who I have things in common with or we find each other mutually interesting and not repulsive. I think it’s always the repulsing thing that breaks the deal. I am repulsive and easily repulsed! How unfortunate.

Maybe it is just a condition of this time in my life. College is an absurd, strange, unusual experience. If it turns out badly for me in the social realm, at least I’ll have stories to tell. A chapter for the book in my head, that some day might leave and become real, because gosh darn it, I’ve got something to say! I mean that in the Jerri Blank way. God damn, I didn’t even like Strangers with Candy. That show was whacked out and not in the good way. I saw it when I was around twelve or thirteen, so maybe that screwed with my opinion, but I think even if I tried to watch it now I wouldn’t like it, because I can remember gags and they still fall flat with me.

I’d love to be a stand-up comedian, but the relentless touring would probably kill me. And all the booze and drugs. But aside from that, I think I could be pretty funny. I haven’t been exactly studying it, but I’ve watched enough stuff that I think I at least have a feel for it. There’s comedy groups back at school, but they’re too white, you know what I mean? I guess the racism’s got me. It’s too…mannered? Is that the right word? There’s some kind of cellophane barrier between me and them. Different attitudes to things. They’re too pretentious? I guess that’s closer to what I mean. Not to say that I’m not pretentious (I don’t think I am, but I’m told I am), but I’ve been trying to do those things that put people at ease.

I feel like a fool. For all kinds of things so I don’t think I’m going to say exactly what (speeds the process of forgetting! Time should fix me right up). I’m just generally embarrassed. It’s all very natural, though, and each and every thing that happens is like the grain of sand that builds to a mountain, something I can get over.

The sweet (imagined) bliss of summer is now floating on the air and invading me. Unfortunately, it’s not very conducive to me writing an eight page paper on cats being weird in the woodblock prints of (mostly) Utagawa Kuniyoshi. It’s due on Tuesday and I’ve got a few sentences down, which is more than usual at this time, but it’s a research paper and really, how dumb was I to get myself into this mess? My parents say to try my best, but I’m ready to just crap out whatever terrible thing will come out of me and wash my hands of it because I’m just too tired to dig myself out.

I’ve got less than a week left here, and there’s still so much to do. In a sick way, I do like being busy because then I feel like I’ve got some sort of purpose, but it’s becoming more and more directed to getting the damn thing done as fast as possible so I can fuck around some more and not so much about doing a good job.

I’ve been wasting a lot of money I’d been intending to save. I think I was still more restrained than a lot of people I know, but that’s not an excuse anyway. It just starts to make me wonder what I think of those people. This school year has not really expanded my mind so much as driven me more into the notion that I am right about certain things. It would not be good if I were given absolute power; I do not think I would be able to help myself from laying down an iron fist, even if it was just to see what would happen (all the other people’s misery around me would make me miserable; I’d probably ultimately end up doing some environmental fixing-up and then get my own house and relinquish power; and obtaining some cash, lots of that shit!).

So I don’t exactly know if I’ve come out a better person with my experience so far. I find myself incredibly sympathetic to the kids at work and more like them than perhaps peers or superiors. Maybe it’s because I’ve yet to grow up, really. I hate to say that I’m still very immature.

It was a lot more active last school year, but I still do believe that humor is pretty much the most important thing (I have a hard time saying whether that’s qualified or unqualified); it is a foundation of my being, to be fancy-kind-of. To a lesser extent, I think it says a lot about what a person really is like. I guess if you look at it that way, knowing my completely proper tastes, I’m still just a kid.

I see those kids at work, and I see them up against things that don’t seem fair and don’t make sense and they get put through wastes-of-time and a lot of the kind of crap that happens I recognize completely. Not really exact things that happened, but definitely the feeling of, "I know this happened, and it was much the same." Maybe I am just seeing patterns where I want to see them.

One week (a little more than that, actually) to go, and this disappointing test year can be laid to rest.

Home is calling me, and so is the boob tube. I got looks of disgust when I replied, "Turn on the TV," to the question, "What is the first thing you will do when you walk into your house?" I do not care. That blue glow, that high-pitched hum, that world of colors and sounds is something I’ve been missing the past weeks. Their trash, my treasure. That’s my particular vice. I myself have wondered if TV has not hampered me in some ways, but I think soon enough I will grapple with my problems, so for now, it helps me to get through.

Of course, what do I have to get through? When I feel awful and tired on the bus, I toy with that idea. My main occupation is school. Others should be so lucky to have that be their problem. I want to more joyfully live, but as of yet, I am not successful in that endeavor, but as it seems with many of these things I want to mold myself into, it will present itself if I want it and as long as I keep trying.

My mind is swimming with all the things that need to be taken care of before I head back to the familiar place. In the same conversation as above, I mentioned how I’d be dancing through the airport, and I sensed bristly puzzlement, and I know some have wondered why I didn’t just stay home for school since I like it so much. Honest, the reason always slips my mind when I get the probing looks (I don’t know what that says about the strength of the reason…). I left to grow up. I left for my own good, because I need to figure out how to do things more on my own. If this experience is bad or difficult, so much the better because I can only learn and get better and then I’ll be ready for the bumps down the road.

Perhaps it’s a good thing I don’t remember this in the moment, because it can only sound bad when it’s coming out of my mouth all mangled and open to distortion.

Maybe it’s just not good to begin with? More and more I am thinking I am the one who is wrong. The majority rules…and I am the minority, it seems. Unfortunately, I don’t even get any kind of "cred" for being out because I’m just flat out stupid or something.

But, (ending this with a cop-out), "how sweet to be an idiot."