Don't know much about lit-ra-chur...
So today I listened to a bunch of people gossip and felt a little foolish because I don't know my grade at all.
I hang out with Oona and Rachel and Amanda and it's lovely, and sometimes I hang with Chris and Taylor and them and I've got random friends like Jeff and Tia and Jarrell and Emma and Marsha and they're lovely too, but I don't know my grade very well.
So afterwards I went to St. Mark's for old time's sake and talked to Elena a bit about life. Elena says I'm good at making friends, and while I'm not amazing I'm sufficiently proficient at it; but I didn't used to be, which is why I'm not friends with a lot of people in my grade. They remember me from when I was kind of a loser with ugly hair and strange clothes and was too shy to talk to anyone.
And I'm OK now and not very shy, even though I embarrass myself and get intimidated a lot still, so I've got a lot of friends who are older than me. And a wonderful boyfriend, of course. And they're all leaving and I don't know who I'm going to hang out with next year. I'm not worried, per se, because I know I'll have friends, but I do wonder.
As soon as I get my license I'm going to drive around and visit everyone in college and have a good time.
Anyway, the reason I went to St. Mark's--the excuse, anyway--was that I was looking for a silver Indian anklet with little bells on it. The legend is that silver bells don't make any sound at all, and although I doubt that it's true I had a dream about it and I knew I had to find the anklet before this weekend. Don't ask.
Well, I scoured every Indian shop in the business, and then the African ones, and then the Sock Man (they still recognize me there!) and the t-shirt stores and I found nothing.
And then on a whim I went into Claire's on the way home and found the perfect thing right next to the door.
I hated buying it there, though. It kind of defeats the purpose. And it's not silver and it's very loud.
Kind of looks pretty, though.
So I won this thingy and went to this thing to get it and met Esmeralda Santiago and I realized that I'm not that great a writer and it was sad. Downright heartbreaking, actually. And I thought about how I'll probably never be a writer and it was horrible, even though I made a friend sort of and met cool writers, including Harry's camp friend who was a beat poet and got a $10,000 scholarship and is working with an established writer now to get himself famous and printed all over the world.
And I felt bad in general, and then Harry came up behind me and whispered "V, you're so beautiful and so talented," and I remembered that it's our anniversary this Sunday (even though I'm grounded), and just as I was thinking that, no matter how hopeless my literary persuits are, I was proud to have Harry to borrow shirts from and hug afterwards...
He whispered the very same thing into my ear.
So maybe if I fail I'll join Jaya and be a muse.
I hang out with Oona and Rachel and Amanda and it's lovely, and sometimes I hang with Chris and Taylor and them and I've got random friends like Jeff and Tia and Jarrell and Emma and Marsha and they're lovely too, but I don't know my grade very well.
So afterwards I went to St. Mark's for old time's sake and talked to Elena a bit about life. Elena says I'm good at making friends, and while I'm not amazing I'm sufficiently proficient at it; but I didn't used to be, which is why I'm not friends with a lot of people in my grade. They remember me from when I was kind of a loser with ugly hair and strange clothes and was too shy to talk to anyone.
And I'm OK now and not very shy, even though I embarrass myself and get intimidated a lot still, so I've got a lot of friends who are older than me. And a wonderful boyfriend, of course. And they're all leaving and I don't know who I'm going to hang out with next year. I'm not worried, per se, because I know I'll have friends, but I do wonder.
As soon as I get my license I'm going to drive around and visit everyone in college and have a good time.
Anyway, the reason I went to St. Mark's--the excuse, anyway--was that I was looking for a silver Indian anklet with little bells on it. The legend is that silver bells don't make any sound at all, and although I doubt that it's true I had a dream about it and I knew I had to find the anklet before this weekend. Don't ask.
Well, I scoured every Indian shop in the business, and then the African ones, and then the Sock Man (they still recognize me there!) and the t-shirt stores and I found nothing.
And then on a whim I went into Claire's on the way home and found the perfect thing right next to the door.
I hated buying it there, though. It kind of defeats the purpose. And it's not silver and it's very loud.
Kind of looks pretty, though.
So I won this thingy and went to this thing to get it and met Esmeralda Santiago and I realized that I'm not that great a writer and it was sad. Downright heartbreaking, actually. And I thought about how I'll probably never be a writer and it was horrible, even though I made a friend sort of and met cool writers, including Harry's camp friend who was a beat poet and got a $10,000 scholarship and is working with an established writer now to get himself famous and printed all over the world.
And I felt bad in general, and then Harry came up behind me and whispered "V, you're so beautiful and so talented," and I remembered that it's our anniversary this Sunday (even though I'm grounded), and just as I was thinking that, no matter how hopeless my literary persuits are, I was proud to have Harry to borrow shirts from and hug afterwards...
He whispered the very same thing into my ear.
So maybe if I fail I'll join Jaya and be a muse.
posted by VVM at 7:30 PM
4 New Ideas
New Ideas:-
Anonymous thinks...
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- 12:32 AM
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Harris Wolf thinks...
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- 11:48 AM
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Jaya thinks...
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- 8:29 AM
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Anonymous thinks...
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- 10:51 AM
dude, what makes you think you can't or won't be a writer. you're a silly.
*Roar!*
Veronica if you'll recall there was *another* thing that I whispered into your ear that night.
It was that you're a Great Writer!
And the people at the award ceremony for your writing piece that you won an award for also thought so.
So there.
exasperatedly happy love-Bogo San
Absolutely, be a muse with me. And are you going to Chloe's party on saturday? Because if so I'll see you there and...could you let me know where it is? I love you.
You're a great writer Veronica. We all doubt our sewlves from time to time...and if we listen to those doubts too closely, then things that wouldn't necesserailly have been true become true. A famous writer called Tom Bissell came and spoke to my english class. One of the things he pointed out was that people whowant to be artists or writers or anything difficult and have back-up plans always fall back on them because it is very difficult to be a writer. Its only the ones who leave themselves no other option that suceed. This doesn't mean that you can't do survival work to head your head above the water...but don't let your back-up plans get too developed or you will guarentee that yu will never be a writer. Oh, incidentaly I think that you would make the best writer ever born...you just need the determination to get there.
--Zack
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