I've been absolutely sucked into the Manics the past few days. I go through occasional times where they're my only thought, my only identity, thankfully those periods don't last very long, and they return back into their place as an undercurrent to life. Soon, hopefully. Try to talk of other things just the same.
I had intended to make an entry on Thursday, but I had to write a report, and after that day I was simply too unmotivated and single-minded. So I speak of these things now.
On Thursday two things happened, the first of which was going to the guidance councilor at school. I walk in, and, I believe the first thing she said was: "What college are you going to?"
My response was, simply, "I haven't the faintest."
She translated this to: "You don't know?" And I nodded.
And that's not entirely true. I said I didn't know where to start, and she gave me some web sites. But. They didn't help any. We chatted for a while about what type of school I would like (she actually knows me fairly well, despite my never having gone to see her before, because I was a memorable person when she substituted for my advisory period for three days. I wasn't misbehaved, or any such thing, it was merely the things that I said. Namely that I read [a truly shocking thing], play/sing music, and like to be alone.)
I do know precisely where I want to go now, however. And I don't like that. Pinning hopes on one choice has always made me feel ill. I like to have options open, what if something goes wrong? But no place would be quite the same, and I think that no place would suit me quite so well. But it's also out-of-state, and my grandmother said that she couldn't afford it, and as she is paying, I have to go instate. She also objects to my studying music, because the only thing she thinks I could do with it is teach. But I wouldn't mind teaching music, if it came to that. Wouldn't mind at all. And I'd willingly pay back loans if it meant I could go to school there. Nothing is so important as making sure all things fall together. And I can see my future, in crystal cold colours. I see the paths, every one. From most likely to least, from most glamourous to least. And this is the way to get me towards the happy endings. The things everyone dreams of. Everything would fall together there. I feel, see, and know this. And anywhere else would simply be me diminishing further, going down this warped path even further. I can't risk that. I can't.
We're still on Thursday, aren't we? The other event that occurred that day had to do with my French class. We were told to make projects, a PowerPoint presentation (a format I had never worked with before) on various cities in France. Now, I have no fascination with France, at all. I learn French so that I will be able to read it, that is the beginning and end of my rationale. So I made a presentation, and as I was filling out the test she had us do that day, she came up to me, bending over, and whispered a question: "Could you go first?" And I thought to myself, "Oh, God, I made such a wretched, substandard presentation, in a format I know nothing whatsoever about, and she wants me to go first? Vocally, I merely said, "But I've never done a PowerPoint before." Her response was simply, "But you know how to talk." And I had to nod and say well, yes. And I said I supposed that I would go first then.
All through the presentation the kids were asking the teacher if they were expected to do their project this well, and about half of the class had a look of panic on their face, due to fear that this was expected of them. The teacher just told them that my project was just "very good," though, and that she didn't ask for that much. I was afraid I hadn't done things well enough. I don't know what I expect of myself, exactly, but I don't think I'll ever live up to it. Even if I am already above the mean.
A child began his project after me, fumbled through it and was saved by the bell, the next day he came back with a whole page of notes to read along with his pictures. I suppose I did what she expected of me: I served as a model to live up to, that people followed.
There are two "star" pupils in that period class, I being one, and a boy being another. The boy is technically better than I am, school-wise, but the teacher is a very wise woman. She knew better than to call on him, and have him go first, because the students would just see him as a fluke, a freak, for doing things so well. With me it's different. I keep my grades and my mind to myself, and therefore come off as "normal," or something that people should be equaling. And so people are upgrading their projects to meet the mark I set. I just found it interesting, and somewhat strange.
I suppose that's all I wanted to talk about. All that's really significant. Next time.
revoless.
7:58 p.m.
2001-04-15.
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