Hey, all! Today's title came from Will & Grace. Just ta inform you.
Wow, I really hate school more than usual. It's not so bad when you're as used to the same routine everyday, but after a two week winter break, it's hard to get used to waking up at 6 am again. I can't do the things I want to do anymore unless I want to loose sleep and do poorly in school. All of my time at home is devoted to homework, and the rest of my day is, well, school. I wish that I were done with highschool and in college, because college days are so much different than highschool days. The work can't be in too much more of an excess compared to what I'm doing now in AP English. But there was (luckily) no homework for that class tonight. We were reading through some Victorian Period British poetry. I liked "Who Is Digging At My Grave?" (I think that's the title, I'm not sure) by Thomas Hardy. His books are murder, but his poems are great. I prefer Charles Dickens in the Victorian novel category, Thomas Hardy seems just boring and existentialist compared to Dickens. Well, I'm sure I'm just boring you with my talk of books.
It's freezing outside now. Make sure to do a snow dance for me, because tomorrow is supposed to bring a gift of the white stuff (and I don't mean crack) to get me outta school. Either tomorrow or Friday (I'm cheerin' for both). How do you do a snow dance? Well, it's simple! Take a snow globe in your two hands and do a jig. It doesn't have to be lengthy, it doesn't have to be stirring or artistic, and it doesn't need any music. While you're dancing (preferably in your pajamas) you need to chant, "snow, snow, snow" to the beat of your feet (hooray! rhyme!). And if you can sacrifice a stuffed animal, that would be great. Every time I've done this, it snows. The school doesn't always close, but it always snows. Last time I did it, I sacrificed my favourite stuffed animal and I got a week off.
We got some new music in Orchestra class today. I thought it would be pieces for our upcoming competition (on my birthday, lucky me) in a few months, but it was all sightreading. Excruciatingly slooooowwww sightreading. BO-ring. Well, sometimes the slow songs are good to play, sometimes I play them when I practice just because I feel like it. But slow sightreading means that no one else adds feeling, and it sounds flat and dull, no matter how much effort I, myself, can put into it.
Well, what kinda deep stuff have I to share with you today? I've noticed how insecure people are about portraying their feelings nowadays. You know, in France men "s'embrace sur les joues", or kiss one another's cheeks in greeting, and it's not gay, it's just what they do. But people are so unwilling to do that here and now. Not that I really want to see people walk around kissing each other's cheeks like the French, but I'd like to see people be proud of friendship. It's not everyday that someone can find a true friend, and I can't believe that only the people in the South of France can recognise it. C'mon people, you don't have to live in Provence! See, that's something that just bothers me.
Mmmkay, I know that it's not the best thing to have people hugging all the time, but I know that I like to be told or shown that I'm loved by a friend. You don't have to hug your friend, you don't have to buy them gifts, but try to tell a friend every once and a while, "I'm glad I've got you as a friend when I need you most." I remember going through a really rough time with some family problems, and one of my friends was going through the same thing. Well, it was good to have her there, because we helped each other get through it, and she'll probably still be one of my friends till my dying day. There are just some things that we take foregranted in this life, and companionship is one of them. I'm not much of one to base my self-confidence on the criticism or praise from others, but I truly to recognise a friendship as what it's worth.
But I don't want any of you coming up to me tomorrow and saying, "I'm glad you're my friend", because then you'd be mocking my beliefs and I'd be forced to abstain from ever speaking to you again. So try to maintain a level of maturity around me, please.
Right. Oh! Hey! "Daily Show" with Jon Stewart. Tonight. 11. Elijah Wood. Be there, or be some odd, geometric and non-organic shape. I know I'll try to tape it, but I can't stay up that late on a school night or my mum'll yell at me. I'm usually awake then, reading or writing or both, but I can't be up and about. So I have to find a tape or something along those lines. Or I could just wait for a replay. Actually, you know what? I'll do that. I don't really feel like bothering with it right now.
What's this? Me loosing my addictions? I missed Orlando Bloom on E.T. (the show, not the movie), and now I'm passing up my favourite actor? Ha! And you all thought I was almost as dependent on them as I am coffee. Sure showed you. Nyah!
I have to grow up sometime, I suppose. 16 (almost 17, thank you very much) is as good a time as any. There's other things in life than movies (I guess). There's, well, there's... okay, never mind. Well, I've got music, and hiking (even if it is a bit chilly out), and friends and family, I don't necessarily need to watch every tv interview with every one of my idols, whether I've got a life or not. And, trust me, I don't. Teenagers aren't supposed to have lives, we're supposed to go to our Communistic schooling programs for 6 hours a day, and then we're supposed to come home and do homework, and then type online about how much we hate routine. And, believe you me, I hate routine.
My grandma says she likes routine because it provides stability. Well, that's great. But (and this may be, perhaps, fueled by my immaturity and pitiful innocence) I'd rather have no stability and variety in life than routine and stability. I really, really would. I swear, I am so sick of the same thing every day that I'm ready to just, well, just... I don't have a clue what I'm going to do, but I know it's gonna be something auspiciously spontaneous instead of this mundane cycle. And when I grow up and get famous, I'll go sky-diving and rock-climbing, and paragliding, and bungee-jumping, and zorbing. Yes, you heard me, zorbing. I'll push the limits and I'll be rich, and then I'll have more than made up for all those years wasted with what I had to do.
Blah, blah, blah. Thank you, and goodnight! Toodles!