smileyjess

dear tom,
gosh, i hope your butt doesn't hurt too much when i'm done kicking it with my new boots!

have a nice day!
most sincerely,
jess

the last song i allowed myself to listen to that morning was Clumsy. rather ironic, no?

i'm still convinced it was karma because even the insurance company decreed that i was not at fault. freak 15 minute snow squall, an insignificant cloud that chose to burst at the most inopportune of times, while i was on my way to school, the morning after a night of below zero wind chill and cold toes snuggled under an extra comforter layer.

you can't even make the argument that i was overtired. i was wide awake, having received possibly the most amount of sleep i had in weeks. i probably cried myself to sleep around 930. they didn't want me + i'm so useless + woe is me + what's the point of it all? = one big Ophelian heap nestled into the cool, wet side of the pillow, books untouched for the night, journal abandoned, pages torn to shreds in anger. fuck it, right? they'd never know i didn't do my homework this one night. i was so awake that morning that i knew i wouldnt need jon's little helper to get me through the day.

nope, i was a-okay! ego battered, insides flip-flopped, eyes slightly puffy, but mind clear. i had reverted to plan b. previously unwanted and pushed to the far reaching, cobwebby corners of my shadowy thoughts, i now dusted it off and mended its flaws. i had been ready for this all along, i assured myself.

luck? i don't believe in it. we have complete control of our individual fates; luck implies some sort of unbiased selection process, randomly doling out fate like a slot machine doles out money for certain players. no it was not luck or lack thereof.

i was in the slow lane. many will testify that this is normally the last place you'd find me. i heard my friend despite her absence: "ramps and overpasses freeze first." approaching my exit at a snail's pace, i turned of the mix cd (could you have been any more cliche?) you had left me a few months ago.

for the record, i was only listening to it because they were all songs i had put on a mix tape for you oh so long ago and, damn, it had a sweet selection of songs!

really, though, clumsy was quite fitting.

i did all i could but it obviously wasn't enough. i got banged up and bruised but have no visible scars.

only now i am afraid to drive. it's strange. i wasn't this fearful at first; every day it augments, and i know this isn't healthy, sometimes tears well up at the wheel and i clean the windshield as if that's what's really bothering me.

i have repeated nightmares.
i have repeated daymares.

my fear grips me in a cold unforgiving grasp and i become frozen solid. kind of like black ice. you can't really notice it until you're right on top of it. literally. after you pass it, it cracks and cracks more and more.

splits into pieces.

this entry is all over the place and ultimately it will not serve a purpose except to let you know that i'm not alright. but i will be. i'm in the process of mending. it takes time, you know?

chances are you don't. when we decided to total my car, i left the cd in the player. no more OLP for me, thanks. i emptied the contents of my car - pennies, packages of gum, pens, cd's, clothes, $2 mexican blanket, the list goes on - into brightly colored plastic bags. i took with me countless memories, too - brand new and beach trips, concerts and slight scratches, picnics and laughs.

i wish more than anything i could forget this one, but i know i can't.

today was excellent.

1. the amazingly awesome beckaroo surprised me with a brand new, sealed copy gwen stefani's solo album love angel music baby before homeroom. god becka wicked rocks my socks. and of course most people are aware that i want to be gwen stefani when i grow up. (did i ever tell you how my confirmation name is gwen? totally serious.) i knew it was going to be a good day.

2. some more new jeans from j.crew. okay, i am developing an addiction.

3. i received my super sweet income tax refund from the state.

4. there was a severe lack of a certain calculus test.

5. diet coke. 'nuff said.

800am: wake up
830am: talk to ines
900am: eat dots
930am: arrive at cranston east
931am: see rye; pick up rye
1000am: take national spanish exam
1100am: finish national spanish exam
1130am: bagel at panera with rye
1245pm: pick up application info at borders for rye
100pm: make brownies
145pm: drop off rye
200pm: arrive at work
400pm: leave work
430pm: study for academic decathlon
700pm: HOBY auction
*** highlight of my day ***
930pm: dad buys autographed poster of bronson arroyo depicting the infamous scene during game six of the 2004 ALCS in which arod slaps arroyo. the incident that turned the whole fucking series around.
*** end highlight of my day ***
1030pm: arrive home happy
1110pm: commence speech writing for academic decathlon, which is now in t minus 8 hours. shit.

firstly, someone stole will's bass at RIC on saturday. i am positively laden with rage.

today was such an awesomely productive day. i feel accomplished, almost. i still haven't done everything that needs to be completed, but i think i'm a lot better off than i was at this time yesterday.

things i did:
i studied for religion (test was today).
i studied for calculus (test was today).
i studied for physics (test was friday... oops, i was conveniently at the inhouse field trip for acadec! sorry, kaiser!)
i studied for music theory (test was tomorrow, but i just figured out that period b drops tomorrow, so that's pretty sweet).
i rewrote the tell tale heart completely in spanish.

things i still need to do:
3 page essay on madness in hamlet (a sad case of too much to write about)
extra credit poster for foreign language night for castro (that was due last week)

because i'm lazy/stressed, youll have to accept jon's wrap up of the 12 "mindfucking/liquefying" hours of the academic decathlon competition we attended yesterday. we placed 8th out of twentysomething teams. not too shabby for a team whose motto is "while you were studying, we were partying."

torrents

twiggy the photographer

Jess's poison brownies

Getting lost in the "crotch" of CCRI

writing a note to rob and hiding it in said brownie

getting hit on by an ugly freshman from Central (jon, not me)

getting a medal that doesn't really count since I was on the retarded LSA Auxillary Team (again, jon not me. i was on the smart lsa team!!!!!)

wearing sunglassses all day

talking to some english interview judge about Maragret Thatcher, who sounded surprisingly like Mrs. Pots from Beauty and the Beast (the judge, not Thatcher)

Hearing a *very* old man say "celestial hole" and "Uranus"

so tonight my parents had been invited to a red cross benefit (donate now, bitches) at the roger williams park casino but my dad was with shel for her orchestra rehearsal so my mom just took me. it was super nice - all these awesome chefs from johnson and wales and five star restaurants volunteered to prepare hor d'ouerves and appetizers. i stuck with the couscous for dinner and cheesecake for dessert. mmm. there were a ton of people there, i really hope they were able to raise a lot of funds. (oh jon - twiggy the photographer was there! she was wearing the same thing as yesterday! ::jaw drops:: i wanted to throw a few dessert trays at her, stupidfuckingskinnybitch.)

i love this song. it's 21 years old. that's crazy. the lead singer of RHCP is older than my mom. that's crazi-er.

Soul to Squeeze by RHCP
I got a bad disease,
Up from my brain is where I bleed.
In sanity it seems,
Is got me by my soul to squeeze.
Well all the love from me,
With all these dying trees I scream.
The Angels in my dreams,
have turned to demons of greed,
That's me.

Where I go I just don't know,
I got to, got to, gotta take it slow.
When I find my piece of mind,
I'm gonna give you some of my good time.

Today loves smile on me,
It took away my pain, said please
All that you ride is free,
You gotta let it be,
Oh ya.

Where I go I just don't know,
I got to, gotta, gotta take it slow.
When I find my piece of mind,
I'm gonna give you some of my good time.

You're so polite indeed,
Well I got everything I need.
Oh make my days a breeze,
And take away my self destruction.

It's bitter baby,
And it's very sweet.
I'm on a rollercoaster,
but I'm on my feet.
Take me to the river,
Let me on your shore.
I be coming back baby,
I be coming back for more.

Doo doo doo doo dingle zing a dong bone,
ba-di ba-da ba-zumba crunga cong gone bad,
like an apple gift but i went out and never said my pleasures
I'm much better but I won't regret it never

Where I go I just dont't know,
I got to, got to, gotta take it slow.
When I find my piece of mind,
I'm gonna give you some of my good time.

Where I go I just don't know,
I might end up somewhere in Mexico.
When I find my piece of mind,
I'm gonna keep for the end of time

the following is an exchange that took place between periods d and e in the crowded hallway of the low 300's wing. also i need to add it was shouted from one end to the other....

jon: jess, my mom gave away my pussy!

it is reasons such as these that i even bother to go to school anymore.

***521pm: updated***
jon used the excuse that his mom gave his pussy to her secretary to get out of having to write the hamlet essay.

if you think that's bad, dont continue reading. mr. white bought this excuse and granted jon an extension.

Thorn61 (5:19:34 PM): my pussy is gone!
Thorn61 (5:20:01 PM): i'm so over it
Thorn61 (5:20:15 PM): i just didn't want to do my hamlet essay
SmileyJess13 (5:20:33 PM): please tell me white did not actually buy that as an excuse.
Thorn61 (5:21:06 PM): no he did
Thorn61 (5:21:13 PM): he's an ol' softie

tonight my mom drove in the snow and made me sit in the backseat because i kept gasping and tightening my grip on the 'jesus handles' of the doorframe.

we were coming home from my eye doctor's appointment. apparently i'm slowly going blind in my left eye because i haven't bothered to have my prescription changed in a few years or so.

i want gucci glasses. why am i such a label whore?

also i went to my pediatrician this morning because they need to run tests on my blood because apparently i'm slowly not getting enough iron because i dont eat red meat (and havent for a good year and a half now). due to said lack of iron i now have a huge yellow-blue bruise in the crook of my arm that i plan to flash multiple times throughout the day tomorrow because its fun to pretend i'm addicted to heroin. (no, really, it is. try it sometime. just get some needles and stick them in random veins and make a fist. this is what i did this morning. plus you gotta get the sunken eyes look going for you, then you are in like flynn.) aforementioned lack of iron or protein or electrolytes or whatever is also the cause of my dead hair.

i called malissa and told her it was an emergency and i hate my hair and she took pity on me and now tomorrow i am getting highlights and a trim and it is sayonara, dead hair.

haj let me borrow another hunter s. thompson book today. for this reason i am overjoyed. now i can further procrastinate studying for the calculus test i was supposed to take yesterday.

also that physics test i conveniently missed on friday? yeah, she totally made me take it today after i told her i didn't even really pick up my notebook once all weekend (plus monday). yes, well i took that little test of hers in super short period and scored perfectly. take that, honors physics. i learned you in ap chem last year!!!!!!!!!! mwhahahahahahahah. (bc god knows i dont learn anything from HER !!!!!!!!!!!!)

other than that, not much is new since yesterday. i am cold and tired and it still hasnt stopped snowing and now i am worried about driving tomorrow.

sweet dreams!

p.s. madeleine is my hero.

right now, my hair smells so yummy. however, it's not looking very good.

you have all been fairly warned.

countless times before i've complained of feeling numb and right now i am feeling too much and that simply will not do.

i am finding i have less and less worthwhile things to say. and this discovery kind of sucks. and also i'm sorry.

the temperature is dropping and it feels like it is colder than it ought to be in march

i have lost all sense of self control. i have lost all sense of control. my life is endlessly spinning and i am helpless (hopeless?) to stop it. i stand by, looking on, watching, waiting, gasping in terror, and the yet the spinning continues. my stomach lurches with motion sickness, thick swallows push it back, an ironic sense of dignity maintained. when i cannot bear it, i walk away from the spinning. it hurts to watch, each rotation incising another scar on easily-bruised skin. i walk away alone because i arrived alone. no one else wanted to watch with me. it is a sick sort of enjoyment not for the faint of heart.

what are you worth when no one is looking?

i am bound in a straitjacket of sorts, arms tied crisscross, straps holding me back. i barely put up a fight before submission. i hang, dangling, swaying slightly. i cannot grasp myself; i am not myself. this cannot be me. and still i stare on, as you do when you see a car accident on the side of the road, shards of glass across three lanes, fiercesome jutting metal sticking out, bright yellow caution tape and flashing red lights atop ambulances. plural. you don't want to look, but you do, and then you wish you hadn't.

"I wanted someone to say, Oh, poor baby, everything will be okay, we'll make it better. I did not want someone to say, This is bullshit. No one wants to hear the truth about themselves."

it's hard to describe. a deadly cocktail of loneliness, loathing, and hopelessness. the scale is perpetually tipped because all other emotions are overpowered. there are brief instances where you can forget and you can focus on other things, other needs, but then, when it is just you and the darkness under the weight of a lead-heavy down comforter, and you are suffocating in a fort of floral pillowcases, you are faced with the truth. music won't help, books won't help, order won't help. heavy eyelids close but the mind stays open. it hurts, but this time you can't walk away. you have no where to go. grinning maniacally somewhere in the darker recesses of thought is a hissing omnipresent reminder of things i am not and cannot be.

i hate that i dont know what will happen these next few weeks, i hate that i feel so helpless and at the mercy of the Forces That Be. i do not know where i will be six months from now and that scares the fucking shit out of me. i do not know if i'll be by myself, i do not know if i will be the same/different/okay/not okay, i do not know how to say goodbye, i do not know how to say hello, i do not know which is the right choice, or should i have gone with door number three?

all of the above?

"We were living inside a pressure cooker, competition tough, stakes very high, the certainty of our futures nonexistent, the knowledge that one is choosing a difficult life clear and the awareness that one's chances of 'Making It' were slim. This created, quite simply, a hunger ... an empty space in many of us that gnaws at our ribs and cannot be filled by any amount of food."

toothpastefordinner.com owns my life.

first and foremost, please allow me to say i have the best friends in the world.

i've got a case of the sundays. i think i need some sort of anti anxiety medication because i am positively loathing this upcoming 5 day school week. i've been nursing this pounding headache since i woke up this morning. let's hope a nice, heavy dose of antihistamine medication will ease that. sleep wash over meeeeeeeeeee.

monday:
mom leaves
make up work after school.
make churro dough for sra. castro.
tulane admissions thing at the westin with rye.

tuesday:
foreign language noche.
music theory test that i've successfully avoided for two weeks.

wednesday:
huge physics paper rough draft due.
work.

thursday:
doctor's appointment (i think?)
mom comes home.

friday:
work.
st. Matties day at mattienandy's

"Ghost Man On Third"
Taking Back Sunday

Jynx me something crazy
Thinking if it's three
then I'm as smooth as the skin
rolls across the small of your back
It's too bad it's not my style
If you need me
I'm out and on the parkway,
patient and waiting for headlights,
dressed in a fashion that's fitting to the
inconsistencys of my moods

It's times like these, where silence means everything
And no one is to know about this
It's times like these, where silence means everything
And no one is to know about this

It's a campaign of distraction
and revisionist history, oh

It's a shame I don't think that they'll notice
(it's a shame, I don't think that they'll notice)
It's a shame I doubt they even care
(it's a shame I doubt they even care)
No one is to know about this

It's a shame I don't think that they'll notice
(it's a shame, I don't think that they'll notice)
It's a shame I doubt they even care
(it's a shame I doubt they even care)
Don't let me down

But whatever I have gettin myself into
maybe has been slicing inches from my waist
It's my fist vs. the bottle
(and thank god you weren't there...)
And that's how bad could this hurt
or against I won't feel a thing
(and thank god you weren't there...)
I tell you all about it
It's just not working out
(...to watch me hit bottom)
not working out

It's a campaign of distraction
and revisionist history, oh

It's a shame I don't think that they'll notice
(it's a shame, I don't think that they'll notice)
It's a shame I doubt they even care
(it's a shame I doubt they even care)
No one is to know about this

It's a shame I don't think that they'll notice
(it's a shame, I don't think that they'll notice)
It's a shame I doubt they even care
(it's a shame I doubt they even care)
No one has to know about this
Don't let me down

This is why we were taught so much better than this
This is why we were taught so much better than this

This is what living like this does
This is what living like this does
This is what living like this does
This is what living like this does
This is what living like this does
This is what living like this does
This is what living like this does
This is what living like this does
This is what living like this does

her reaction?
"I'M GOING TO COLLEGE BITCHES AND NO ONE CAN STOP ME!!!"
i'm so proud. sniff, sniff. of course, she is not going there due to its utterly SUCKTASTIC weather. USC beckons, i just know it.... this week it'll be in the mailbox, i am sure of it.

i'll also let you know when jon receives his first acceptance letter, which has yet to occur!!!

in an effort to forget my unrequited love... remember the bittersweet love letter i received from yale on 16 december 2004:

dear jess,
it's not you, it's me. we need to take a break. i'll talk to you in four months.
truly not yours,
yale

p.s. - okay, yeah, it is you. try harder next time. what's this 97 in ap calculus? where'd those other 3 points go? dumbass.

i went to an information session offered by tulane admissions for accepted students tonight at the westin.

wow. just wow. i'm going to college. it kind of hit me tonight. i am in. i am Going Somewhere. i am On My Way. i am Getting the Hell Out of Dodge.

tulane is the sweetest safety school in the world. after tonight it's totally a place i can actually see myself. (apparently that's important or something...)

sometimes i am so in love with music i want to listen to 6 cd's all at once. today those cd's would be:

so much for the afterglow (everclear)
your favorite weapon (brand new)
no doubt (no doubt)
the moulin rouge soundtrack (i.have.no.idea.why.)
under the table and dreaming (dave matthews band)
jagged little pill (alanis <3 )

oh my god i am seriously in a ridiculously good mood. which is good because i haven't even started any of my homework yet.

jess <3 college 4 eva

tonight i was a churrista! and also i am so hardcore hating physics right now.

in other news dave matthews band released a brand new song today - american baby- and i think it's awesome. god i love him.

"American Baby" opens with sounds of bombs dropping, but Matthews says it is meant to be optimistic: "There is a divide in this country. That song is hoping that apple pie and lemonade, baseball and sunny-day barbecues are not going to be replaced by a 'fuck 'em all and let God sort it out' vibe."

the new album comes out on 10 may. i'm stoked. read about it here. unfortunately i wont be able to make it to either of his two boston concerts this july (i'll be in spain!) but who knows.. maybe i'll catch the san francisco ones (hey hey stanforddddddd what's upppppppppp) in late august? who knows....

"This album," says Matthews, "is about love, life, God, death and sex." i think that's basically everything. should be a sweet cd.

well, time to write this 10 page physics paper. yup. catch you on the flip side if i feel like going to school tomorrow.

half a million gold stars to the person to first find the lyrics for american baby. also, you can be my idol for the day.

i heard about this alaskan dude on npr the other day. he built a 152 ft tall ice sculpture with a sprinkler. i wish i were that creative. check out the many chronological photographs of the sculpture's life.

Nunca podré cepillarme los dientes sin pensar de Shannon y Tom.

things i did today:
1. booked a flight to california during and after april vacation.
2. planned a trip to spain for for june/july.

this weekend has been way too much for me. i never thought i'd welcome a monday, but i think i am. even with gym second period and no free. i need to escape from this house. i've been working on this physics paper far too long - especially considering it's only an honors course. blah.

i met up with a friend from preschool on friday. we had lost touch once we entered high school, so i was very surprised to hear from her last week. i wish i could say nothing's changed, but i can't. she's still a great person, it's just that we're so different now and you would have never thought our paths had previously been so in sync with one another. so it goes, right? we went to fresh city and caught up for a couple of hours, then she took me to her new home and i saw her mom for the first time in four years and everything was nice and like it used to be. we parted ways because she was off to a club that night, and i don't own a fake id so i just came home. i had planned to go to st. mattie's day at mattie and andy's house by the beach, but i was exhausted and i havent made the drive down there in awhile, plus it was nearing 11 and i just thought it to be best if i didn't go. i was kind of feeling blue. wouldnt have been a good party-er, bringing down jon and max with me most likely. blah.

i wasn't able to go to work this weekend, which means in two weeks i'll have no money. wonderful.

i guess i should really wrap up this paper so im not completely freaking out on tuesday night.

also i got into providence college yesterday.

even before you say it, you want to take it back. just for thinking it. but then oops, it slips. now it's Out There. and the words hang in the air. and you want to grab them. but they slip, again, out from under your tongue and in between your fingers, smoothly sliding through the air, defiantly navigating through the invisible nothingness. did you just say....

this is why i so much prefer to write. with writing, you can simply erase words, cross them out, tear them up, hold down backspace. you can make them disappear, you have total control over them. one second thought and they're gone, vanished, as though they never even existed.

i need to wicked shut up sometimes.
i need you to tell me this more often.

1: number of bs "required" papers for a pointless *honors* course (vs. AP)
1: number of psychotic physics teachers
18: number of pages of text
24: number of sources
1: number of books referenced that were published in 1895
6: number of hours of editing and finishing touches
3: number of hours submitted to turnitin.com ahead of time
0: number of plagiarised stuff
2: number of my very hunched shoulders
4: number of cups of tea consumed

the best part is, it's probably one of the best research papers i've ever completed. who knew i was capable of not working under real pressure? (hence the being done by 9pm part)

::cracks whip::
take that.
::cracks whip again::
yeah, that too.

quote of the day number one goes to tj, commenting about being waitlisted by pc:
"whatever, i'll just have them over and show them my closet and *then* they'll accept me."

quote of the day number two goes to mattie:
"Dear Yale, I write you this letter on behalf of my friend, Jess. Why should you admit her to your school? She writes 18 page papers fueled by spite. Love, Mattie."

Dear Jessica:
It is my honor to inform you that the Committee on Scholarships at Providence College has awarded you a Presidential Scholarship for outstanding academic achievement.

The Presidential Scholarship is a full-tuition award for four years of uninterrupted undergraduate study at Providence College. The Providence College community extends its warmest congratulations to you!

sorry for the recent lack of updates; it's just been really difficult to sort things out, put words to all these incomprehensible thoughts colliding across my mind, much less find the energy to post...

thursday i just stayed home. there was school. i did not attend it. my head was just pounding, i didn't even want to lift it from my pillow. i slept until 230 in the afternoon. it was glorious, and very much needed/deserved. i had a myriad of bizarre dreams... among them the driving-off-a-bridge dream, the getting-shot-in-the-back dream, and also one in which i explored antarctica. tres cool.

i spent the afternoon lost in borders, and walked out eventually with atonement by ian mcewan. i havent been able to put it down - it just absorbs you right into the text - and this is not good because i'm supposed to read heart of darkness this weekend for english. that books depresses the hell out of me for some reason.

friday there was no school so i went to work for the day.

i was fortunate enough to spend friday night with lauren and corey!! fabulous company, we dined at fresh city and dished about the college search. afterwards it was back to laurens where we spend some quality time with her brother (on spring break from brown) and his friend (on spring break from providence college) as well as her mom, dad, and three dogs. we sat lazily on the couch and watched BodyFit, some 1980's fitness video i found in the darker recesses of a basement closet (they are currently in the midst of installing a home theatre) starring a 50 year old version of twiggy in a pink spandex body suit and a mane of blond hair. it was FUCKING HILARIOUS. especially lauren's imitations and word for word citations!

this afternoon we planned our summer trip. we're leaving the 17th of june. we're going to spend 4 days in london, then fly to madrid (where we'll spend 5 days) then taking a train to seville and barcelona for 2 days, then heading back up north to valladolid (ines' town) for 2 days, then my family is heading back to madrid and i'm staying with ines until it's time to come back on the 7th. all of this works out wonderfully because i'll be home for the dave matthews shows in massachusetts on the 9th and 10th.

oh, sweet summer.

this afternoon ryan and i walked around the pc campus for a little over an hour. i don't really have much of a choice - looks like i'm starting there in the fall. the students are currently on spring break, and it was a gorgeous day, so we seized the moment and just meandered between the old and new brick buildings aimlessly... bumped into a man and woman (early 30's?) who we discovered were alums. they had met each other in the library and married a few years after graduating. he spent his junior year studying at oxford and later returned to england and received two masters. he now is a tenured professor. his wife went on to law school. i was pleased to hear that the guy had attended high school at classical, also in providence, and said that living at pc was like living a world away from home. which is good.

remind me that this is for the best, okay?

afterwards we saw our homeless friends (robert and brian), so we made them a nice lunch of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, cookies, chocolate, yoo-hoo's, grahm crackers, and marshmallow peeps. brian was out asking for some dough by the exit ramp, but robert was very grateful, i could see it in his eyes. poor things. "vaya con dios."

tomorrow we're having easter at my house but my mom is letting me escape to galilee and spend the afternoon at rye's beach house, which is sure to be jolly good. i haven't been to the beach in too long. i need to breath the salty air.

also last week i got into boston college.

kbye.

after a decadent meal prepared by mi madre, i politely departed la casa and hit the beach with rye. we got there around 5 or so and walked around until darkness settled in a little bit before 7 or so. my first trip a la playa este ano. a bit chilly for my taste, but we bundled up in hoodies. and by we i mean me. rye rocked sandals and shorts. brrrr.

the cabanas are all locked up and abandoned, so rye ("just a regular ol' huck finn") climbed onto the roof and jumped along while i meandered below snapping pictures of the water and just totally enjoying the view. even the drive down and back was peaceful. well, as peaceful as one can get listening to the colour and the shape.

my hands were colder than i realized and i let them thaw out on the steering wheel with the heat blasting. same for my toes. note to self: do not wear moccasins in the sand. actually, they are fine in the sand. note to self: do not remove moccasins in room that rarely gets cleaned.

jon got his pussy back!!!!! apparently his mom didnt really give it away to her secretary. unless her secretary is the animal shelter.

the good news is fat cat has finally lost some weight.

i have come to the conclusion that something is terribly wrong with me. first period this morning mr. regan announced that starting tomorrow, we will be creating our very own sand mandalas. (a mandala is any of various ritualistic geometric designs symbolic of the universe, used in Hinduism and Buddhism as an aid to meditation.) in the center of ours, we are supposed to place a truth that is central to our being. an image that defines who we are, what we believe in, what we stand for, what we perceive to be imperative to our very being in this universe. it really shouldn't require a lot of introspection. i'm almost 18 years old; by now i should be able to think of something self-defining rather easily.

i could not concentrate in the least on anything he was saying after this announcement because i was wracking my brain for an idea. the type of thinking that makes me stare at one thread in a plush carpet, eyes unblinking, hearing but not listening, brows furrowed.

when the period ended a good 45 minutes later, i hadn't yet thought of anything.

it is now 13 hours later, and i still haven't a clue as to what makes me me.

i dont think that's right.

A Supermarket in California

What thoughts I have of you tonight, Walt Whitman, for I walked
down the sidestreets under the trees with a headache self-conscious looking
at the full moon.
In my hungry fatigue, and shopping for images, I went into the neon
fruit supermarket, dreaming of your enumerations!
What peaches and what penumbras! Whole families shopping at
night! Aisles full of husbands! Wives in the avocados, babies in the tomatoes!
--and you, García Lorca, what were you doing down by the watermelons?

I saw you, Walt Whitman, childless, lonely old grubber, poking
among the meats in the refrigerator and eyeing the grocery boys.
I heard you asking questions of each: Who killed the pork chops?
What price bananas? Are you my Angel?
I wandered in and out of the brilliant stacks of cans following you,
and followed in my imagination by the store detective.
We strode down the open corridors together in our solitary fancy
tasting artichokes, possessing every frozen delicacy, and never passing the
cashier.

Where are we going, Walt Whitman? The doors close in a hour.
Which way does your beard point tonight?
(I touch your book and dream of our odyssey in the supermarket and
feel absurd.)
Will we walk all night through solitary streets? The trees add shade
to shade, lights out in the houses, we'll both be lonely.
Will we stroll dreaming of the lost America of love past blue automo-
biles in driveways, home to our silent cottage?
Ah, dear father, graybeard, lonely old courage-teacher, what America
did you have when Charon quit poling his ferry and you got out on a
smoking bank and stood watching the boat disappear on the black waters of
Lethe?

allen ginsberg

good news:
Dear Jess,
I hope you are as pleased to receive this letter as I am to send it to you. You have been admitted to the 242nd class to enter The College of Brown University. The Board of Admissions has selected from nearly 17,000 applicants those men and women who, as members of the Class of 2009, will give The College what promises to be the strongest class ever. You will be one of 1,440 freshman who individually and collectively display a remarkable diversity of strengths and interests.
Sincerely,
Brown University.

and bad news:
I'm not quite good enough for Harvard. Eh, who needs them, especially in light of this article that I read yesterday on msnbc: Harvard Students Mostly Unhappy

in other, unassorted, uncategorical news, the last day of the quarter is tomorrow and since i've made it through alive, i'm going to buy myself Something Nice.