September 2, 2000

Summer is gone. It slipped away with Vicodin, sunburn, and a PICC line, pushed into the recesses of my memory by school-time muscle-ache and exhaustion. But I'm dwelling on the bad. I should remember the movies and get-togethers and such that made the other things okay. That make them okay even today. But I won't, because prednisone causes slight mood changes, and I've been kinda bitchy lately. Just kidding, of course.

The first week of school didn't feel like the first week, it felt like the fourth year. I knew where all my classes were without having to check their room numbers twice- I've been walking past each room since I was fourteen. Fourteen! I'm definitely ready for a change of pace. Each year, every day, is the same. Nothing monumental ever happens- not to me, or anyone else in my life. Sure, there are your regular events, but after freshman year nothing is really new anymore. It's your classic been there, done that situation. Mild excitement can be found in your woulda, coulda, shoulda's, or might-be's, but this is always rather shallow and surrounded with pessimistic realism or regret. After the first day, I told someone that there are a million and one things to do, so we should just do them and try to forget that it's all bullshit. But today I memorized 103 ions for chemistry, and I read about two people visiting some island in Germany auf deutsch, and I ordered that book I need for english, and then I read that two-thirds of the students in Chicago's public schools can't read or write at their grade level. And I'm hating the education system today, not only for failing so many people so terribly, but also for sucking the fun out of it all for those people it didn't fail as badly. Because it used to be a blast; it really was.

Regret has been on my mind all week. Since about the sixth grade, I've been very conscious of my list of regrets and my desire to keep it as short as possible. Minus those stupid embarrassing moments that everyone wishes we could just erase from our past and those unspoken questions/comments that just don't come to you until five minutes after they would have been useful, I have two, maybe three specific things that I regret. Three. At the most. I try not to rationalize things away from my guilty conscious just to cross it off this list, mind you, although it is very tempting. Two of these things have been on my mind every day this week, partly because I'm realizing that this is senior year- in only a few months, I will be separated from these regrets by more than just a nasty past, possibly for the rest of our lives- and partly because I've taken to pondering that ever-mysterious "what if?" of life. One of my friends showed me this picture of my group of friends three years ago, a group that has since dissolved/ erupted and gone separate ways. If that hadn't happened, what we would be doing right now? How would I be different? Is that better than what I am right now? Would they be better off either? I don't think so (there were reasons for the eruption, after all), but it's quite an idea. The way one singular decision could change the course of everything, theoretically.

And what does one do about regrets? I'll never stop regretting them, or wondering about their "what if?"'s. Maybe not every day, but often enough. Especially if I manage to keep my list relatively short. I do want to remedy them, and occassionally might go out of my way to do a nice act to counterbalance them in my mind. It's a very selfish concept, actually. I want to feel better about the situation; I don't have any idea what's going on on the other side of my regret. The other option is to just get over it already, for goodness sake.

I'm getting unbelievably anxious about the U.S. presidential race. What if Bush wins? If Gore does win, exactly what will he do in office? Why oh why can't West Wing be reality? Because, honestly, this two men aren't that inspirational to me. I'm looking for a good candidate who will actually do good things, revitalize the government, and make all those changes people need. I want to be able to work for a campaign whose ideals I believe in one hundred percent. I was reading this article that said in the primaries, vote with your heart, and in the actual election, vote for the lesser evil. That phrase keeps rolling off my tongue, and I hate the fact that people settle for the "lesser evil." What is wrong with finding the right person for the job, and fighting to make sure no one else gets elected? Where is this person? I want change, and I do not want to wait four more years for it. I'm much too idealistic for politics.

This is kind of a half-assed entry, to be honest. There's not much on my mind. The greatest thing to happen to me in the past week or so is that I feel creative again. I feel like I can create a character that is based on something more than me, my friends, or high school. I feel like I can create someone with some quirkiness surrounding her, and put her in messy situations wtih development and originality. I don't know if it will work, but I feel like I can. And I haven't felt this way for a year or so. Whenever I can create a nice piece of work, I feel good about myself (which, in a roundabout way, says something about this past year), so I'm optimistic. Maybe I'll post it up here. The one I mentioned months ago was a false alarm. A good idea, but a false alarm all the same. It was based off high school, and I'm sick of high school. When you're knee-deep in something, you tend to not want to write fifty pages about it, I guess. I'm forcing myself to use what I know in an abstract way. No one has had as much trouble with the concept of writing what you know as I have. It's not to be taken literally. You don't change the names and the endings of the stories of your life. You take the lessons and the feelings and put them in other people, or not. Create originality, but don't put them somewhere you don't know. Keep it familiar, stay logical, and elaborate believably. This writing thing didn't use to be so tough.

College is creeping up. Well, hell- it's here, baby. It's down to a list of six colleges, and only one in my home state. Which means lotsa road trips in the next two months. It also means many arguments with my parents, and a general increase in stress overall, but that doesn't have so much to do with out of state colleges as it does with college itself. As my mother put it, this is the biggest decision of my life. Not too much pressure now, of course. Maybe I'm making too big a deal out of it, though. It'll work out, not to worry.

Everyone should listen to Bob Dylan, but he won't be quoted now. Because everyone should also listen to Carol King. And I mean really listen to her, which requires going beyond the popular "Tapestry" album. At the moment, I'm high on The City album- "Now That Everything's Been Said." It's deep and beautiful and oddly catchy, if I can use that phrase to describe something Carol King wrote. Here's something from "Snow Queen": You may believe you're a winner, but with her you will soon bite the dust and discover you're just a beginner. You may not think you're a loser, but in mid-air you'll be hung while you trip on your tongue, and it'll only amuse her I know it sounds demented when you just read it, but I love it.