May 13th, 2002


Squiiiish -

Cannot give a ride today; apparently our band concert, my brother's band concert, and some huge event my mother is helping with all coincided today (some freakish planets must have aligned; it's actually cool out in mid-May to boot. Anyone else hearing the twilight zone theme?) and so I need to home as soon as possible and then off to the concert.

Haven't just babbled in here in a while. So I will. Yeah.

Brittany is listening to her headphones quite loudly (I can hear as if they were on my head). Nicole would shoot her for her tastes in music.
Fire drill today, in the rain. We enjoyed it. I harassed poor John and made him very frightened of band students.
I had some beef jerky. Meaty. Some grapefruit juice, too. Me and my weird eating habits. Such a tasty lunch.
Working very hard on getting over Michael. I am getting the distinct impression that things would be a hell of a lot easier if I could be girly and just cry. But since that's not working, on to plan B: be numb for a month or two. Mmkay. I can do that.
Dollmaking. Very disgruntled as none are fat enough to be me. Now I suppose I have a project - fat person dollmaker. Whee.
Last concert of the year. Nicole is making me stay for the ice cream social. Curses. I need/want neither ice cream nor socialization.
My nails are blue. But I am not cold. I heard that this blueness could be caused by a lack of iron. But if Fitday is to be trusted, I've had about 100% my RDA of iron. Damn you, body, and your refusal to cooperate.
The Color of Magic is quite amusing. Must give back to Drew. Frantically hoping I did not accidentally leave it in Multi-media. Meep.
The Red and White game is this Wednesday. After that, I no longer need ever touch my clarinet again. I can get a job. If I feel like it, I can wear lipstick (shame I rarely wear makeup. I love the real dramatic-looking sort of application if any at all, but I can rarely be bothered with it). My obligations to Memorial High School's band are completely over. Cue nostalgia.
Okay, that's enough of that. Hell yes, I will be out of here in two weeks.
I need a job. Want to work full-time over the summer, but as my mom and dad make more and more plans, that's looking less and less likely. I'd rather not work for only a month; I tend to become attached to workplaces like you wouldn't believe. Like my fondness for inanimate objects (losing my special mechanical pencil is cause for a nervous breakdown. I don't care if I have another pencil or that I haven't used it in months, it is still special). But I could use the cash.
Right now and until I am told otherwise by the university housing, it's looking like I'll be leaving for San Antonio about August 1, since that's when the lease on the apartment I applied for begins and there's no point in having the apartment (UTSA housing is nice; the University Oaks apartments look to be my sort of place. Semi-private. My own room. Etc.) and it just being there when I could be getting out of my parents hair and settling in before classes start. At some point before that, probably in July, we are apparently going to go visit the area (my parents are sending me off to a college we've never seen. I went to San Antonio about seven years ago, and I remember nothing of the city itself)
My family will be gone and I will be home alone the first week in June. My relatives may try to fight me on this (both aunts have called suggesting I stay with them or that they come stay with me). Let me rephrase it. I will be home ALONE the first week in June even if I have to kill off a few people in order for it to remain that way. Grr, damn it. Do not infringe upon the solitude of Jenni if you wish to keep your physical person intact.
Now, where can I locate two sombreros? Hmmmm.... Mebbe we have some somewhere in the house. I hope so.
  • Current Music
    Brittany listening to "Whenever, Wherever" beside me.

(no subject)

Was going to hide this post. Fuck it. Don't care.

Band concert. Nicole and I put on our sombreros right before we played "La Fiesta Brava", our march. Yeah. The audience seemed to enjoy it.
Marissa was tactless enough to point out the scars on my arm while we were in a large group of people. Thank you, Marissa. Please never do that again and just let the damned things heal in peace. I usually wear long sleeves because I don't want to talk about it.

I am... not manic. Overcompensating, I think. Michael tells me to forget about him. So I try. And I go a little crazy, laughing just a little too loud and smiling and reverting back to being immature and insane and smacking people with a trout (really). And I try to forget about him.
And realize that just forgetting about someone you have loved for quite some time is like removing a lung and a kidney and trying to function normally. it can be done, yes - but oh god, it's hard as hell.
There's this big... void... I look at him and it's like I don't see him, I'm trying so hard not to, to look just past him, not to even think about wanting to talk to him. He doesn't seem to want to talk to me, he's back to doing what he did at the end of last year. Not looking me in the eye, walking away when I come near, generally pretending that I'm not there. Maybe it's an unconscious behavior, maybe not. I don't know. I don't suppose it matters anymore. I can count on one hand the times he's walked over to me to start a conversation during our four years of high school. The number of times he's IMed me. This has been one-sided from the start. One of the happiest moments of my life was when he decided to actually talk to me, in public, in the hallway. He paused at the door to the class to wait for me so we could chat. He had never done anything like that before. I was amazed.
He is the best friend I have ever had, and he is the person I trust more than any other on the face of this planet. He is one of the only people I have ever felt remotely at ease with. He is one of maybe two people who I would consider allowing to see me cry.
After May 25th (graduation) I will more than likely never see him again. Given our usual methods of communication (online only) and the fact that I will not be messaging him since I keep getting the distinct impression that he does not wish to speak with me, odds are I will never talk to him again, either. I do not expect him to hug me (I can't recall him ever hugging me) or speak to me or look at me or even say goodbye over his shoulder, which is usually the only way he'll communicate when he's like this. And seeing him hug Emily and laugh with her and sit with her and smile for her and at her and joke and be friendly with her no longer really makes me want to die. I've fucked things up for the two of them way too much, and sometimes I really wish I hadn't. But I can't change it now. Maybe in a year if I transfer to UT Austin like my parents want me to, I will look him up. Probably not. I've bothered him enough for one lifetime.
Michael, since I know you read this and talking to you in person is a futile effort anyway between your fidgeting and Emily's presence...
I'm sorry. I wish you a lot of happiness in your life. Goodbye.

So I guess this is it. Another few months and I'll be starting over. New life. Certainly a very different, if not entirely new, me. No attachments.
Not "Jenni, the artist".
Not "Jenni, the writer".
Not "Jenni, the one hopelessly devoted to that guy there... the one with the flute".

I guess this explains it. You have to die for a little while before you can come back. I just need a few months of being dead.
Then I'll be okay.
  • Current Mood
    exanimate exanimate