It's Okay

About two months ago, I had a dilemma.

I was thinking of applying to BU Academy - a private school full of nerds, basically. It has rigorous academics, fun people, nice art programs, etcetera.

I realize now that it likely would never have happened, but I was still seriously considering it.

I wanted to go there partly because it sounded wonderful and I would be happy there, but more to prove to myself that I could and would be intellectually superior.

The thing about me is this. Nobody ever insulted me or said I was bad at anything I do, be it art or writing or schoolwork. Nobody does, and I don't want them to. But I sometimes think so lowly of myself that it doesn't matter - I do it worse than anybody else, because no one stops me and usually I can't stop myself.

So basically, I got it into my head that I could not be the person I want to be if I did not apply and get into this school, mostly because of the academics. For myself, I always have to be good at what I do, or at least moderately so (in the case of dance). Any bad grade and I will crush myself inside constantly for a few days, then every so often for the following weeks. I will try to do everything I can about it but I will still feel absolutely horrible.

After about two weeks of sheer misery, I decided not to apply to that school. It costs thirty thousand dollars each year, and my parents work in education and music. We could afford it with financial help, but not easily, and I think I would feel so bad about using up so much that I would be even harder on myself. But more importantly, thinking about it so much made me feel horrible and stressed and sometimes sick. It made me feel stupid because many of my classes at my school are easy for me.

It was really hard - harder than I had thought - to let go of that. I still feel inadequate sometimes about myself. But after some weeks, it began to wear off, and I was able to joke about it again. And I'm beginning to realize - it's okay. It's okay to not go to the school where your entire life is grades and work. It's okay to spend a lot of time on things that aren't school-related, things that feed a different part of me - like art and writing and music and reading. It's okay not to overflow your head with work you don't understand. It's okay to be happy with where you are.

Another thing that is hard for me to realize is that yes, I want to know everything. But the time for knowing it all will come eventually. There are things that I am not in the position to know, because others must be learned first. And that's okay.

Bus Ride

Today was overcast, in that depressing way that winter days sometimes are.

I got on the bus at 4 o'clock or so, because it's always late. Really it should pick us up at 3:30. It sucks.

Anyway, I got on the bus, and there were three of us - my friends and I - so I sat alone while they sat in a seat farther in front. Two guys were sitting across from me, one in front, and one diagonal-front.

I was looking out the window when I heard Diagonal-Front say -

"You only have one friend, you need to get a life, and you're a faggot."

Across #1 said, "Who, me?"

"Yeah, you."

"No, I - I have more than one friend. You know J?" (I'm not putting his full name in.)

"Yeah, yeah. I know him. He's - he's in my history class. And he hates you and he thinks you only have one friend, you need to get a life, and you're a faggot."

"No...no, he doesn't."

"Yeah, he does."

"Who do you have for history?"

"Uhh...Ms. L."

"Oh, she's the worst," said Front.

"He hesitated," said Across #2. "He had to think about it."

"He's in my history class. Isn't he in my history class?" Diagonal-Front asked Front.

"Yeah," said Front.

"He thinks you're a homophobic gay. You're afraid of gays and you are a gay." (Seriously. GRAMMAR. Okay, sorry.)

"That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard," said Across #1, but he didn't sound certain.

"You should convert to Judaism. They'd let you be gay."

It went on like that for a while. And I didn't say anything. I should have said, "Fuck off." Or "You're an idiot if you think 'gay' is an insult." Or "You don't have to be such a dick." Or something. There was so much I could have said.

But I didn't, and Diagonal-Front got off the bus, and it passed. But I could see, in my furtive glances across the aisle, that Across #1 was still hurting. And I should have said something.

Bad, Bad, Bad at Decisions, Decisions, Decisions: Planning Edition

Me: Hmm. I want to meet my girlfriend's friends!
Me: Over Thanksgiving!
Me: Why don't I start a Facebook group message!

(a few days pass)

Me: (in chat) So, what are we thinking to do? Where? Any ideas? There aren't any movies I particularly want to see...

(hours later)

Me: Hmm. No replies.

(an hour later)

Me: What are we doing tomorrow?
Girlfriend: I don't know, text me when you figure it out.

(after procrastinating endlessly, attempting to contact other people, and failing)

Me: AHH!
Me: What to do?
Me: Harvard Square? I sort of know it and anyway you can find most things there...
Me: Central Square? I used to live there and there are nice places...
Me: Just a café? But what would we do?
Me: Where do they live anyway?
Me: WHICH DO I CHOOSE?!

Ugh

It has not been a good few days.

Or it has.

But I'm just not feeling good. I'm not sick or anything. I just feel blechy.

I feel like I annoy people when I message them. Also Halloween is this week and NaNoWriMo is starting and term is ending soon and I've got projects due and our freshman play is showing mid-November and I need to work on my speech for speech team.

Also I've been thinking about my girlfriend's school a lot. They have an open house today. I think I would like going there. But I think I don't want to transfer for another person. And I do like my school, I really do. I just don't know. And I don't want to leave my friends. But I would love going there. But I don't want to. I want to love where I am and let it stay that way.

I'm worried I'm getting bad again.

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.