October 15, 2003
Within An Inch
Going through my regular online ritual, I opened up hotmail and then I received a 'too busy' message.
I do not know about everyone else, but the thought that ran through my mind was something along the lines of "Too busy? Too BUSY? Not for me, biotch! Reload that..."
In local injustices, one of my beloved literary magazine staff members, Jake, was recently suspended. He came back today and I heard the specifics of the story: he was going to buy milk and ran into a kid, the kid pushed him, he pushed back, then the kid punched him and called him a faggot. Both received the same suspension.
Supposedly it is not supposed to matter who starts these things, but I cannot help thinking that it really does matter who started it. And that the punishment should not be equal. Jake would not just push a kid for the hell of it. Then truly think about the situation: someone shoves you, is it really fair to expect someone to not defend themselves, to just stand there and take it?
It does not feel fair.
The aftermath was funny in that dark way. Jake had to go through sensitivity training, so he had to fake sensitivity and emotions. The amusing part was his mom was appalled by the other kid's behavior and said that Jake should have beaten the kid 'within an inch of his life.'
Recently I have been hit with a heavy case of the "lazies." I refuse to ever classify myself as feeling senioritis. What a cop out, suck it up and move on. I swear half of the people who claim to have senioritis are hypochondriacs. Some people will hang on to anything if it means they can do and be less.
Even if senioritis were real, I do not have it. I assume the symptoms to run something along the lines of "I'm going to college, nothing I do in high school matters anyway." I figure I have a lot to learn in this last year of my high school career both inside and outside the classroom.
Tonight I felt like such a little adult. I sat down for dinner with my parents and I felt like the most appropriate thing would be for my parents to pour me a glass of wine too. I know I am more mature than many "adults" but that is not really the point, though it may lie beside it.
I cannot even say what it is that made me feel like I should be a little adult. But beyond pouring myself a glass of wine, I felt like I should be wearing lipstick instead of the hardly discernable lipgloss or chapstick I wear most of the time. Then for the full effect I should have worn a shirt that could be only be called a blouse and sensible pumps.
Except I will never wear the sensible pumps. I refuse. ::digs stiletto heels into the ground::
At this moment I think what I will like most about being an adult is working so intensely from 7:30 to 6 or so that once I am off of work I can go out for drinks with friends without feeling guilty about what I should be doing. I am looking forward to having more of a sense of control over my time.
Or at least fantasizing about it. Oh time be mine.
What I want right now is to watch steam curl above a mug with a book fit snug between my palms and a pen for when my mind grows restless, as it often does.
Losing that writing contest has shaken me some. I think that is also contributing to my laziness, there is a small feeling of hopelessness haunting me. It will pass, the wind blows the ghosts quite easily.
Kind of like fairness.
Violence may not be the answer, but I think there is something to be said for fighting. And even though Jake seems to be quite well adjusted to the reality of the situation, I am still angry that he gets something on his record when he is trying to apply early decision that makes him look like a thug.
Love,
Mandy