It's Only Love

My parents are becoming more and more restrictive when it comes to going out with my friends, and the stringency of their rules is inversely proportional to my wanting to leave. I love my parents, I really do, but can't they understand that I can accept some responsibility? And that the fact my room is cluttered doesn't necessarily mean I'll flunk out of college? And that it is possible to go out more than once per weekend? I know why they're clinging to me more as my senior year passes by; I'm not entirely looking forward to leaving the home where I've for the most part felt safe and happy. But my family life doesn't have to come at the expense of my social life, does it?

Do you ever have the feeling that someone's attracted to you, and you're kind of attracted to them, too, but the relationship's going nowhere because neither of you is saying anything? Maybe I should be content to just let things happen, to enjoy each stage of any relationship, to enter it by degrees. But I'm far too impatient. I feel constantly full of anticipation, but sometimes I don't know what I'm waiting for. I look forward for days to something exciting (like the creative writing field trip, or Harry Potter, or Thanksgiving), and then it comes and goes and I realize I still have a stream of days stretching out before me, endless at least practically. Will I ever be satisfied?

At least I've found a diversion to keep quiz bowl Saturdays halfway interesting: ogling hot guys. There is no shortage of them on other teams. I know I am very shallow, and I know this pastime encourages endless teasing from the boys on my own team, but it really does lighten the monotony. And this monotony desperately needs lightening. I don't know how I can stand the months that lie ahead, except to tell myself that this is the last time I'll have to deal with it. (It being a code word for the Greeninator, a name I've just now decided to call her.) Much as I'd like to see people again, I flat-out refuse to come back to coach a B team or moderate at the frosh-soph tournament. I declare it here and now. You readers of this blog must hold me to it, no matter how my strength wavers. I will not be the next Melanie. I just won't deal with that crap once I've left Auburn behind. Oh, and I won't go visit her if and when I come back to Auburn (if the Academy is even still there). Bandy and Melanie can swallow their misgivings and be nice people. I just won't.

Also, I vowed this earlier this year, but I'm renewing it today because it helped me decide between books at the library: I will never waste my time on a book just because it's something I should read, something that will make me look smarter or that I want to use to impress someone. I'm going to read Nick Hornby and David Sedaris. And have a wonderful time doing so.

The Ballad of John and Yoko

I used to think that the man I would fall in love with and eventually marry would be someone with whom I could really talk, connect, be comfortable. The thing is, when I feel attracted to a guy or if someone shows the slightest interest in me, I instantly become tongue-tied, awkward, self-conscious...the exact opposite of all those things. The guys I really can talk to are guys I'm not attracted to: Aashesh, Patrick, Brad Fischer. So does your life have to be divided between romantic love and meaningful friendships? Maybe that's what a soulmate is: someone with whom you can have both. And that's why I haven't found anyone yet. I just wish I could have Gloria's luck: being best friends with a guy for years, building up a wonderful history of closeness, and then moving easily into a Relationship.

Why are people so weird about me dancing with Christian Zarnke at Cabaret? Three years is not a big difference, guys. (Not that I mind very much when Sonya teases me about being a pedophile...but still, three years is nothing. My aunt is three or four years older than my uncle, and do you think it matters now that they're in their forties? Did it matter when they were in their twenties? No.) We're definitely not dating, or anything close...but I think I would date the kid if the opportunity arose. And there are plenty of other kids who are one or two or three years younger than I am that I would easily date. According to Mr. McCoy, the opposite is usually true: because girls mature faster than boys, they tend to date and marry older guys. Maybe I'm just immature. (John Brown and Brandon now call me "the badass little kid" because when John asked me if my AIM buddy icon, which says Slytherin, is supposed to be a sign that I'm badass or a little kid, I replied that I'm both: a badass little kid.) But being older than a guy gives me slight power in a relationship, which I kind of like. And I've always had friends of all different circles and ages. When I was a freshman and sophomore, I befriended juniors and seniors in newspaper and quiz bowl; now I know underclassmen from being a TA and from quiz bowl and newspaper. As a Midway Village camp counselor, I befriended kids from fifth and sixth grade. Maybe I'm just so social that I can't go without making some connection with other people, no matter what the situation. I'm turning into my mom, I can see: the type of person who will start conversations while waiting in line at the grocery store. And though that used to embarrass me, now I think it's okay. It's not a bad thing to be friendly.

Do you ever have an experience of having a period of great energy and creativity and excitement? I had a really crazy night last night. We had a DBQ to write for Euro, and I was kind of dreading doing it. But once I got going, I was having all these great ideas and turning out beautiful turns of phrase and making funny and clever connections (I brought in Monty Python; the topic was the persecution of accused witches), and I got extremely excited about it. Then I was way too excited to go to bed, so I stayed up for another two hours rushing around my room and digging through the drawers of my desk and reading poems I wrote in eighth grade language arts. In fact, I'll close this entry with an excerpt:

"I am neurotic and strange
I wonder what it would be like to be a duck
I hear quacking
I see sheep and yellow fish
I want to have a sheep called 'Four legs good, two legs bad' (from Animal Farm)
I am neurotic and strange

I pretend to have friends in frogs and fish and snowmen
I feel that they are really my only friends
I touch an obsessive mongoose
I worry they will eat tofu
I cry tears of toothpaste
I am neurotic and strange

I understand why a gorilla has a pointy head
I say things in Sanskrit
I dream of yellow octopuses
I try to sing like evil blowfish
I hope to eat pickles and cheese
I am neurotic and strange."