So many things happening all at once.
A day (to the minute) ago my mum called down the stairs, "They're evacuating the capitol building!" So I ran up the stairs to see hundreds of people rushing down the street at Washington, just hours away from where I live. A plane flew overhead, and the police thought it was another terrorist attack. You wouldn't think it, if you lived in another country, that America's become a scary place. But all of a sudden everyone is paranoid, and not without reason. Crime rates are insane, prices for everything are inflated, and everyone hates the government. I always hear from my Gammie, "When I was young, we never even locked our doors." I'm sure that's not true. She was young during WW2, they had lockdowns and blackouts on a weekly basis, families built bomb shelters under their houses. I'm sure there are people building shelters now. I know that there are designated emergency shelters in my area, and I'm sure at least one of them have supplies to survive a bombing attack (we can't build basements where I live, I'm too close to the oceanfront). Here in Suburbia, here in Stepford, here in Perfect, with the green grass, happy soccer moms, and playing kids, you don't see that fear as much. But when the country was put at red alert a month ago for this summer, everyone cancels their traveling plans because they don't want to fly. I never thought terrorists would ever get a hold of planes that could make it all the way over here, I never thought of people taking our own planes. And as bad as it sounds, everyone is afraid of Middle Eastern looking people. That's how bad it's gotten, it truly is that bad.
And I really started thinking about it, last night. About war. About countries. About the world. The reason that there's war is because of pride, if you think about it. It only takes one person, one leader to decide something, and pride will drive the rest of the country to do it. Look at the Iraqis following Saddam, killing Kurds. Look at the Germans following Hitler, killing Jews. Pride drove the Japanese to attack us at Pearl Harbor, pride drove us to drop two atomic bombs on them. Pride drove Al Queda to drive planes into the Trade Centers, and aim them at the Pentagon, and pride drove us to retaliate. Pride drove Iraq to attack while we were there, pride drove us to get them next. Pride drove a teenage Muslim girl to strap a bomb around her waist and kill innocent people, pride drives American teenage boys to go to Iraq and loose their lives. And it all seems stupid, doesn't it? I've never heard of America taking the first prideful attack, we always retaliate, unless we know an attack is coming. And it's hard to be fair about it, but I think retaliation was called for. But the attacks on us all these past centuries seem stupid. War seems stupid. It's hard to describe. For instance, I think that America needs to take care of business in the Middle East. No one else is going to, and they drew us into the conflict by attacking us first. Attacking us, their benefactors, the ones that lent them weapons and knowledge to protect themselves, and they attacked us. I think we should clean up shop over there. But the people in opposing countries think that they are honestly doing what's right, just as I honestly believe America is doing what's right. On both sides there is propaganda to feed to the people, on both sides there are guiding leaders to decide what's fair and what isn't. And it all winds down to the pride people have. If the world could start on a new slate, if everyone could give up the pride in their countries, the pride in themselves, the world would be better. Protestants wouldn't hate Catholics, Iraqis wouldn't hate Kurds, Americans wouldn't hate Bush, and there would be no more shed tears, there would be no more bomb threats, and doors could go unlocked again, just like the 50s.
And all it was was a stray plane flying over the funeral procession of President Regan. All the visitors, including Mrs. Regan, had to be rushed out, all because a plane flew over. I thought someone planted a bomb in his casket. I honestly did.
So, one year from now I'll be gone. One year from now I'll be graduating highschool. Tonight is senior graduation. No more seniors. I'm a senior now. By the way, last entry I wrote that I was a sophomore, I'm not, I'm a junior. I think I just subconciously wanted to spell sophomore. Thanks, meganwaits, for pointing that out! I feel silly now! But, anyway, yeah, a year. Well, a half a day and a year. Tomorrow at around one in the afternoon I'll be a senior, and then it'll be a year. I'm almost an adult! I'm almost 18! I can almost buy cigarettes and rent hotel rooms and cars! Not that I have any reason to do any of those things, but, I can!
Today I took my Ceramics final. It was simple. I also got back all my old projects. And Physics was fun! It was actually fun! My teacher let us make origami rocketships and paper airplanes. And one girl who's in Cosmetology cut the teacher's hair, right there in class. It turned out really, really, really well, actually! An administrator walked right in while she was cutting, didn't say a word. It must have been a strange sight. And we didn't learn a thing. I'd like all my classes to be that way! And in English, the six of us that were left played Uno. That was okay. Kinda boring. But okay.
OH. MY. GOODNESS. My mum has the best opportunity, ever, ever, ever! My mum runs a business, Vintage By Buttons, she makes the most amazing vintage clothing you'll ever see, and she's been asked by NBC to make an appearance on a new daytime talk show! It's not final, but I'm hopeful. They emailed her, she emailed back, they asked her for our phone number to call us, and so she's going to talk to them via phone, and then they'll decide! Isn't that wonderful?!? I'm so excited! This is my mum we're talking about here! I'm so glad that other people are finally starting to recognise her talents. Och! Wonderful!
And I have to take a paragraph or two to tell you all about the amazing book I'm reading. I'm reading 'Tis. I adored Angela's Ashes, Frank McCourt's autobiography, it was so stirring and sad, yet funny and witty, and the writing was amazing. Poignant, beautiful. That book became part of me, and I really never will forget it. But now I'm reading the rest of McCourt's life, chronicled in a second book, 'Tis. I didn't want to read it, I didn't want to ruin the first book, but now I can't put it down. Everything he writes is... perfect. Every sentence has a meaning, and you wouldn't think it just scanning the page. He tells you everything in simple words, but you know everything he means, and you get all the same emotions. He describes it whenever he was in an office job, typing stuff, he says exactly what I feel even now, he couldn't imagine having to do the same thing every day, day in day out. I couldn't either. The same office. The same computer screen. Everyday. I know I go to school everyday, but I change classes every hour and a half, and every day is different. I'm learning something new everyday. He became a teacher, and he sees new faces every year, teaches new things every day. I wouldn't want to live on teacher's pay, but I think he's a brilliant writer. I'm sure he doesn't have to live on just a teacher's pay anymore, or I hope not, anyway. But, yes, this book is a quick read, but you won't wanna finish it. So, go get it. Now.
Uhh... I've got nuthin'. I had so much to say about the way I feel lately, but I feel great. I feel like there's something big coming my way. I feel like there's finally a light at the end of the tunnel.