Ice Cream Whatagain

Well.

Yesterday I went to something at the high school I'll be at starting Tuesday. They called it an ice cream social.

Just ponder that for a minute. What?

STOP TACKING FANCY NAMES ONTO THINGS.

Okay, sorry. I'll continue now.

The only reason I went was that we were getting our schedules.

So.

I went to the "student center" (aka cafeteria for normal folk like you and me) and stood in line for like ten minutes to get the schedule. I got it, and it looked like this:

A block: Directed Study
B block: Directed Study
C block: Directed Study
ETC.

I looked at it for about a minute and finally thought, "That can't be right..."

And then I had to go to the office and get it sorted out and I missed the looking around the school and getting a tour and whatever. Take a moment to pity me.

...

Thank you.

So after that I went back to the cafeteria for a Schedule Comparison Fest and various processed sweet frozen stuff. Processed sweet frozen stuff happens to be delicious, which made it a little less irritating that almost none of my friends are in my classes.

After looking at my schedule just now I've decided that the schedule times make absolutely no sense. I may be vastly confused for the first month or so, hmm...

"Reunion"

There was this thing. At the art center.

They called it a reunion but it wasn't really, it was just an invitation to come and make art with other people. And eat pizza. And ice cream. And it was brilliant.

I was the first one there and then this other girl came and we were talking and laughing with the teachers. We made a plan for what we were going to do on the giant canvas that was provided. Then we started to paint and some other kids arrived. I went downstairs to see my friends from ceramics since I wasn't attending this week. We ate pizza and ice cream and went on painting.

I did not feel at all emotionally attached to the painting that I was doing with the second girl who arrived. The other people were also doing a giant one. It was amazing not to give a damn at all and just go wild with color. Ours ended up as a real explosion of hues, and quite abstract too. The canvas was absolutely enormous. I've never done something so large-scale.

So. Much. Fun.

I talked with the girl about middle school and high school and social things and it was kind of fun because we had the same opinions on a lot of things even though she's a "popular kid" and I'm a "book/YouTube nerd." It's amazing how fundamentally similar humans are.

When I signed my name at the end of the evening, I looked at our work and kind of liked it. It definitely wasn't my favorite thing I ever made but it wasn't bad. Creating it was almost like letting go, just letting everything out, with vast brush strokes across the enormous space.

It feels good not to be attached, almost like floating, like being on a ship in the open sea. You choose what ports to enter, which ones you want to explore, and where you want to stay. "I can see...perfectly in this cracked darkness." ~ Paper Towns by John Green

I am a bad girl, me

So I went to ceramics, which was awesome. I painted a teacup I made with white and copper-green slip and I'm going to glaze it tomorrow.

Of course, since I wasn't throwing today (only trimming and painting and sitting around because I didn't make enough stuff this week to keep myself occupied), I, as well as my wheel, was much less dirty. So I cleaned up my stuff and then my friends and I basically ditched the class. (Oh well...the classroom was pretty clean anyways...)

We were upstairs and my friend and I were unlocking my bike from the railing by the door and another one was sitting on the railing and then my friend asked me to come get ice cream with her. At first I said no, I shouldn't, I should get home, because my grandparents will be expecting me (my parents are in the Berkshires). But then we started riding and I thought, what the hell, why not, ice cream is amazing.

So we went to Cabot's and each got an American small-size (which of course is medium to large size everywhere else) and stood around finishing them off. By then it was around six, and class had ended at 5:30.

Of course, I was expected to be a little late because I had to pick up a book at the library, but not as late as I was going to be now.

But anyway, she agreed to stop by the library with me. As we leaned our bikes on the bike-tying things (but didn't lock them because it's tedious) I called my grandparents and said that I'd had to stick around and help clean. Which was basically the opposite of what had happened. But whatever.

I checked out my request (The Night Circus, for anyone who cares) and another book that I saw that looked cool and I decided to check out (and I still have no idea what it is) and then we kept riding towards home. We take the back streets, since I hate one of the intersections on the way. Suddenly I noticed that in front of one house, the part between the sidewalk (or "pavement" if you're British) and the road, where usually there's water-wasting grass that the city maintains, someone had planted tomatoes.

Of course, we stopped and stole some. (To be fair, I think it's city property anyway, so whatever.) They were good. Literally just-picked. Nothing like it.

Soon we got to my driveway and we went our separate ways.

And this is why I relish my freedom.

Silence and the End of Some Things

Ballet teachers will yell, some more than others. It is simply a fact of life.

However, today my teacher lost her voice. The class was literally silent between exercises. No one spoke at all. We communicated via hand gestures.

It's strange, but when someone in the room doesn't speak and uses hand gestures to communicate, we often feel the need to stay quiet. And today, there was no yelling, and barely any speaking. Just music and concentration. I came out of the class feeling relaxed and with a huge grin on my face. There's nothing like silence to help you get centered. It was almost like yoga.

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Earlier today, I had my last geometry class of the year. And as usual, I was being loud and calling out and screaming answers. Of course, my math genius friend got everything first, but I got it shortly afterwards. Then, the teacher handed out the class placements for next year. If I were to stay, I'd still be in the highest math class - א'1 or I guess A1. You see? Calling out does pay.

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I think I'm going to watch an episode of Doctor Who now and eat some ice cream. What a wonderful evening.

(By the way, see The Vampires of Venice - Season 5 Ep 6 – as well as The Big Bang - Season 5 Ep 13 – for the Doctor Who reference in the title.)