brokenhearted jubilee

I'm happy--actually, nervous out of my mind--because I finished my play and gave it to Diane, who really is a wonderful amazing person. I hate it. It's tacky and horrible and everything. But at least it's done.

Renata's sitting on the floor leaning against the sofa playing macca's "junk," which is where I got my quote, for those of you who hadn't figured it out yet and are probably Harry.

I wrote two essays and a five-page lab after school today, after writing five pages of my play during my frees. I still have to write my letter from the editor and make a graph, but I'm saving it for later.

I sustained myself with a piece of chocolate cake and chinese food for dinner. I'm so bad! I wrecked my eating-healthy streak, which was fairly successful, with one night of stress. I took breaks to search authors on wikipedia, read a few webcomics and order some books off of amazon.com.

So while I'm in an intellectual and accomplishing-things jubilee, I'm brokenhearted because I won't see Harry for two weeks and I'm worried sick that I can't talk to anyone any more and because junior year sucks.

I'm bored with school. I used to feel so much love for the people around me! Then again, I had Harry every day, and LK and Rie and Frankie and David Tay and Evan and Peter and Zack, and Oona and Rachel and Amanda and I were all friends, and Matt and Clark and Lucas and Ty and Ja weren't hibernating in the stu, and Chloe was here, and everything was sunny and fun and I started thinking I knew who I was.

Now it's just my grade, and I can't help it if all the girls look the same to me. They think I'm weird and I'm not interested in them and the whole thing falls apart. Some of the guys in my grade put up with me, but we're not really friends. I don't play pool or cards or do their thing. (Actually, I do play cards, and quite well, but I don't play with them.) I'd have to be a stoner or a really good guitarist or really popular to hang out with the current seniors. I can't hang out with the underclassmen because my sister does that.

So I spend my frees reading art books in the crevice and reading books in the reading room, which is pleasantly devoid of upperclasmen, and writing ideas for plays and to-do lists and wishing I hadn't forgotten my ipod. I spent a whole period in the English office talking about the American belief in meritocricy and the new place of intelligence in the value system and everything else under the sun with Donovan and Mr. Schwartz. It was glorious.