September 20, 2003
Senior Year Manifesto
Mixed up as always. Mixed up and me.
Everyone should have a mentor. I most definitely should have a mentor, so it works out quite well that I do have one! I showed her my writing from Northwestern and told her about what I have been doing so far in my senior year. She understood how annoying it was when people do not format correctly (why, people, why??).
Yesterday I burned a CD of fun songs and danced around my family room until my dad called for me to pick up since he had a nail in his tire. I need to dance around the room more often, it does my soul good. And I need to fill up the bottom of my punching bag. I have had the thing for over a month and I have yet to use it.
Just criminal.
The Prospice magazine (for my school literary magazine) went quite well. Almost everyone that I wanted to be there was there. A few people could not make it because of Marching Band and I am not sure why one of the sophomores could not make it, but I am going to have to find out more about that. It is so important to keep all of the underclassmen we have.
My mentor told me that she thought I could be a professional poet, a compliment she assured me was genuine and a big deal. I am not sure about all of that, but it is always nice to be complimented on my writing since I invest so much of myself in it.
I may have the flu. No good.
My newest theory is something along the lines of my positive attitude would be more successful if everyone else had gotten the memo. I am more ok with more people this year, more than any other year, but I am still not sure if I am doing everything that is right for me.
Witnessing a large percentage of the senior class wasted at the football game last night was depressing. I do not condemn them for it but I have trouble determining if they are turning blood to alcohol (The Last Supper backwards) out of boredom or unhappiness or what. There definitely seems to be some kind of discomfort with themselves sober, too many inhibitions or something.
A couple of them fell right into me and knocked me down. I did not fall far, though, and was surprised that I was not in any kind of pain as a result. It was mostly amusing.
Then at the dance people were not only weaving and slurring but reeking. Some of the smells were horrible.
Because a lot of these people are "popular" I am supposed to envy them. But I have trouble envying anyone who is such a mess. Some of those people are genuine (mostly) and good (mostly), like everyone else, but they seem lost and miserable until they are self-medicated.
Not that they are so different from anyone else. Some of us just hide it better. Part of me wonders if character is defined by how you let your pain and misery manifest itself.
I just know that a lot of the people who could not think straight last night should be walking without their crutches.
If it doesn't pop, smoke, sparkle, or glow it can't be real.
I saw the Drop Kick Murphys and my ears are still fuzzy.
One of these days I am going to buy a tape recorder for interviews and my own outloud thoughts for when I am driving. There is something connected to my steering wheels that turns and flickers my synapses. Except synapses do not work that way. Ahh poetic license, how I love thee. Except that I know someone will be promptly informing me in my guestbook that I do not get a poetic license because being poetic is a prerequisite.
I wrote my first college essay this morning and it is too long. I really should have written my second one but I think I will give it a try tomorrow. Any explanation would be an excuse, which is a cop-out and wasted words. I already do that enough.
I will be extremely relieved when all of my college application stuff is sent off and out of my hands. Even moreso when I get my rejection letters and hopefully a few acceptance letters too. Since I have been focused on college for so long I did not expect for all of the pressures to affect me as much as they are. I need to remember to set low expectations.
Mostly my unhappiness is manifested in my neck. On somedays, like today, it's like a rock. But it will pass. In time, all things will pass.
On the bright side, I need to buy fun things for Kenji that he will hopefully enjoy while he is honing his culinary schools. I am always happy to help a genius.
Love,
Mandy