island in the sun

Aha! Alas! I have found what truly makes me happy!

Singing.

Too bad I can't do it very well. Sure, better than others, but still.


Agh. Trying to break out of this funk. Somebody OD'd last weekend, and even though he's okay, he's not really. It wasn't accidental. Puts things in perspective. Sure, I'm not really all too happy right now, but I surely don't want to die. I haven't lived enough to do that yet. Which, incidentally, is probably why I'm depressed in the first place.

Ah. Okay. So in truth, I have been battling with this for a while. Feels good to get that out there, I guess. Stretches all the way back to the 7th grade. Ha! Crazy. I used to feel important telling people the extent of it, like I mattered. But I didn't really. I was just another statistic. It's ridiculous. That's what I like about this blog, though. I can go back and realize how bad it's gotten and how these little spells end. Even though it seems like they're coming more and more often, that's not true, because they're still the same speed as they usually are. Some people might call that bipolar, I guess, but I'm not going to diagnose myself with a disease I don't have.

I'm sure this makes little sense.

Last night I dreamt about the night I told my friends. They just went, "Okay," and we didn't talk about it again, haven't talked about it since. And it was this big thing for me. Just goes to show I blow stuff out of proportion. But we all knew that.

November soon. I think I like summer more. It's pretty cold in here.

hmph

So other than getting to see my friends (and I mean that in the actual sense of the word, not "hey we're at the same party let's be friends" way) this was a crap weekend.

And now today I'm going to be doing my crap chemistry work.

Crap.

normal?

I don't like parties. But I'm going to one tonight where I will only know a handful of people and I will only like a few of them.

I didn't like parties last year, either. Which is why I got in a car accident to avoid it. Just kidding. Kinda.

I'm going to wear my cowboy hat and call myself Annie Oakley, even though I know she wore dresses.

kaby

Okay, Kelsie, honestly? That was probably the most fun I've had in a long time. I'm not gonna lie.

And, okay, the whole time we were wishing you were up there with us. But that kinda woulda defeated the whole point of going to see you in a pageant. Which, by the way, you should have won. It's a conspiracy, a conspiracy I tell you! Besides, both of your dresses were absolutely fabulous.

But I do wish you were sitting up there with us. It was so much fun. I've never thought I had an affinity for drama, but I really loved the role playing thing, and I loved seeing everybody else's reactions to it. We have GOT to do that sometime.

And of course, I love your family. I didn't even get a chance to feel awkward, being around people who aren't my family. Adam was adorable, as always, Maggie was...Maggie. Katie was like a little mini-you. James kept going around trying to shock me, but my shirt deflected him. Your grandparents are awesome, and they remind me of my grandparents (which always makes me a little sad). And of course your parents are fantastic, not caring that me and Gracie were making asses out of ourselves. I clapped really hard and did a little hollering when the Lady lady was telling us to appreciate the parents.

Kelsie, your family > awesome.

water

I've never thought about it before.
And now I'm so ashamed of that fact.
I spent all that time under the shower, just thinking, enjoying how it felt, not realizing that in a few months, we'd be bone dry. We wouldn't be showering. Restaurants wouldn't be serving water. Neighbors would be turning one another in for illegal water use, happy in their limited capacity to make others suffer. Fines, extensive fines would be issued to those who let a drop of water slip. People would be using plastic more and more to avoid washing dishes, washing clothes less and using Febreeze more.

This is insane. I remember reading that this would happen when I was about 14, but the numbers seemed so far away. Not far enough, I guess. Not nearly far enough.

How can they not have seen this coming? We elect these people because we trust them. I feel like I've been fooled, tricked.

con. fi. dance.

The other day, I completely lost all confidence in my writing. All of it.
I wrote a short story. I felt pretty good about it. Gave it to my teacher. She wants to enter it into competitions. I let my dad read it. He thought it was crap. Joey read it. He thought is was crap. Chance read it. He didn't understand it.
So now I'm second guessing myself. Is that the right word? Should I really use that rhyme scheme? Not that I'm very good at writing poetry in the first place, but I'm looking at all of my writing with a much more critical eye.
The thing is, I've never thought I was a good writer. Ever. I feel like my writing is amature, and it never goes anywhere because people don't give you honest, helpful feedback. Whenever anybody tells me I've written something good, I don't actually believe them. I guess I've always expected someone to come along and tell me to give it up, I can never be a writer, quit trying. And I think that that's pretty much what these people just did.
And this is just...how I feel.

coming home

So I'll start with the good stuff, because that'll take up less space. Gracie won as Homecoming princess! The Junior class float won the parade competition! An actually cool girl won Queen! Que bueno!

Okay. So that was the good stuff.

I had to be driven to school Friday because I knew I wasn't going to be able to get home at night (since I can't see to drive). At the end of the day, the pep rally started, and I was stuck taking tickets at the door, where some of my friends tried to bribe me to get in. I said no, but it made me sad. I snuck in though, and watched the football players play musical chairs, which, okay, was hilarious. Then I had to clean up the pep rally. Then it all began.
Since I was stuck at school, I offered to help Gant and Paine. I figured I'd just have to cut something out or whatever. They dragged me out to the field and moved 80 chairs. Then I had to go and drag columns to the field, and P was freaking out because one was missing. They drove me to the church where the parade started, and I had to give out sashes to the homecoming princesses. Ew. Gracie's mom drove me BACK to the school, and then they put me in charge of helping the photographer. Minutes before the game started, the lady asked me to drag her heavy camera crap to her car. No big deal, since she was nice. She offered to buy me food, but I wasn't hungry, even after not having eaten since 11. Got down to the field (which was packed) and had to walk back up to the school to get the phantom column, which was in the basement all along. I had left my stuff in Gant's room, so after I brought the column down, I went up to the school to get my bag. I had thought my parents were coming, but they didn't (big surprise there...they were both "really tired" and then ended up staying awake until 2), so I dragged me stuff back to the field to ask Gracie's mom if I could put it in her car. She let me, but her car was parked NEXT TO THE FRONT ENTRANCE OF THE SCHOOL. But then, when I got back, I was done. I got to see Gracie get crowned, and me and Kelsie screeched like girls.

Then Saturday morning we were told to report to the school to clean up the hall decorations. No big deal, okay, because I like most of the people on student council. I got there and NOBODY was up there. I had to find a band person to call Gant and wake her up to get to the school. And even then, it was only the three of us...again. Cleaning up four hallways. Ugh. I really had had about enough of them, and I figured they felt the same way, so I went off to the junior hall and cleaned it by myself, but we inevitably ended up cleaning the senior hall together. Ew.

And then I came home and I was a bitch to Gracie.
It's not that I was angry. I really wasn't. I could understand why she didn't come. She was tired. And I figured it was just punishment for not helping with the float or finishing the hallway last week. But I think I became angry. More mean. I barely said a word because I was tired and she just kept asking me over and over if I was mad, and I kept saying no. Then I became mad. Self-fulfilled prophecy, I guess.

I've been getting angry at the drop of a hat lately. Ever since Thursday happened. Asshole. Ugh. And it sucks, because when I get angry, my face gets splotchy and I start crying. Not like, boo-hoo crying, but hot tears of frustration. I've felt that way often since Thursday.



Okay. So that's homecoming. Thank God it's over.

homecoming

Last year, as a wannabe student council member, I thought homecoming was so cool. Dress-up days were fun, the halls looked awesome (and I didn't have to be there the whole time), the banner was...well, our banner sucked, but I still thought it was vaguely nice. No, I didn't go to the game, because one, football is lame, and two, I would have been mobbed. And no, we didn't have a pep rally, because the first pep rally where a fight broke out and people got trampled cancelled all of the rest of them for that year.

Homecoming is lame.

I was supposed to be there all last weekend to decorate the school. I got sick on Sunday though, so I didn't go, but still. The one day was certainly enough. And our hallway looks lame anyway (though it looks a hell of a lot better than the freshmen hallway). Our banner is awesome thanks to the help of Alexis and Dalton (and several other people). But I still hated every minute of it. Every minute of the people coming to ME for answers, ME, the secretary, not Gracie, the VP or Andre, the president. And everyone not doing anything they should have been doing. And now, walking around school, I look at these people all dressed up and I think they're lame. I have no enthusiasm for this.

And I'm being forced to go to the game. Ew. I'm hoping I can find a way out of helping with the parade, but I wouldn't be on it. Ew again.

Pep rallies aren't really that bad. Basically I just stood there and tried to keep the sports people behind the line last time. And I really do like school spirit sometimes. I get caught up in it. I'm like the wood-sawyer in Tale of Two Cities. I get caught up in whatever I'm in, then change my mind about it later.

So those are my thoughts on homecoming.

waiting

I've been waiting for something spectacular to happen to me. I built up the post to end all posts, and I've been hesitant to write about something less than fantastic. But I've also been terrified. How can I put myself out there with something so wonderful? Will it be good enough?

That's the thing, though. I'm always waiting for something spectacular to happen. Waiting for my life to begin. And I'm terrified that it will. And that it won't. I'm content. Not particularly happy, granted, but content. I can sit in my room and let those four walls protect me from everything. I can dream, I can imagine, I can think. I can have nightmares, as I lately have been.

I've got less than a year, I figure. I need to know. At least guess. What am I going to be? Writing is the kind of field that's hard to get into. Some people get you, but most don't. Teaching would be okay, I suppose, but in today's world, where shootings happen regularly, would that be wise?


I've never even had a job. My life is my school. And I hate it. But that's what it is, because since before I can remember, I've been terrified to break away from what I know. The night before my birthday, I made a list. I won't repeat it here, because I've pretty much said everything. Just the fact that I am...me. And I want to be a different me.

Now, granted, some days I'll be brave. "You only have one life to live." "Live this day as if it were your last." And I'll ask someone out (and invariably get rejected). Or I'll apply for a job. But the disappointment comes, and I come back into my shell.

That's my goal. My life needs to change.