Without A Cause?

I haven't posted in ages. I'm not sorry. I've been busy.

So Friday was Battle of the Bands. I came a little later than I was supposed to, but Greg Sans-Tongue and I took over the ticketing and relieved Chloe and the other Matt anyway. (The first Matt still has my guitar tuner. Grrr...) The bands were all great. Ella surprised me with a fresh-composed song and a liberated and clear, if mildly timid, Joni Mitchel-esque voice; Peter surprised me by insisting that I dance on stage. I cheated and danced to the right of the stage, but it was just as fun. Alex and Burke did a rock-opera and Burke gave the best facial expressions I've seen in a while, and I acted like a kindergartener again. I couldn't help it. The music did something to me... anyway David Tay, Harry and Elena came over afterwards and we ate cupcakes and I started feeling bad about how I'd been behaving. Everyone had been there, too--people who didn't care, like Jaya and Amanda-Oona-Rachel and the musician folk, and people who probably thought it was wierd. Meh.

So I freaked out about how nobody takes me seriously and how I mar my own intelligence with my stupid actions, and got very mad at myself, and wrote a self-scathing blog post, and then thought it over and in the end spilled everything to Harry over the phone Saturday night. The poor thing used all the force of his boundless and often circulatory logic on me, but I still wasn't swayed.

Then a certain someone called. She was in an extremely good mood: "Hi, V.V.!" she beamed into her cell phone. "I haven't seen you in like forever!" I melted. She told me how meeting a stranger in the park while reading The Bell Jar made her think of me.

And I was in a good mood all weekend.

So basically I decided that I'm kind of cool. Despite everything. I have conversations with hobos and read a lot and play my harmonica--I got another gig request, but I turned it down--and I've got cool friends with good hearts and good brains and I don't need to worry so much. I know I will always worry about how I come across, but I think I've gotten a LOT better, and I'm getting better every day.

My play is being read this thursday, so come, everyone! I want an audience! I need actors, too...

It's a piece of shit--honestly, it is--but I knew it would be, since it has no premise, so I'm not disappointed.

I'll do better this summer.

I discovered today during math that a line from my last poem (written yesterday during Chem) came straight from a J.D. Salinger story, which is weird because I can usually quote from books I read for at least a year, maybe more, and I never mix stuff up like that. It was very Hellen Keller-esque and chilling. Then I got some good grades back and forgot about it.

The rest of the weekend: Saturday I made posters with Oona and felt normal, and Sunday I wrote a lot and got in another fight with my dad. Again.

When I opened my cell phone during Spanish it said "2 missed calls: mobile, Will Curley: Mobile, Will Curley." I laughed out loud because I was picturing some poor seventh grader jumping when I Am The Walrus started pouring out of a fourth-floor locker and Will wondering where my phone was. Then Monty yelled at me and now my blog won't republish for index changes. Grr.

Today I went to Staples with Matt and we found him a three-ring binder and found me a croissant and I paired it with cafeteria coffee and made a cheap and nutritious lunch out of it. While I poured the coffee, I rocked out to Ballad of You & Me & Pooneil, one of my favorite songs, and Amanda sidled up to me with all her grace of foam and said "Hey, it's V.V. rocking out at the tea stand!" How can you help but love her? Then I went to sculpture and cut black and blue and brown paper for my hair and green circles for under my eyes and stared at myself and felt like a gypsy.

I actually am part gypsy. A very small part. I've always been proud of that. I'm a quarter Bohemian, too. And half Mexican and a lot German and a little French on both sides.

I think I act crazy when I'm stressed and I have no other option. When there's no other outlet, when I don't have the strength to inhibit myself.

I think I'm gonna dye my hair right after Prom.

I'm bad. I steal from the Lost & Found.

This is a weird post.

I'm gonna put on my moccasins and a plaid flannel shirt. I'm in the mood.