That week was rough; in hindsight, I don't remember much except for an overarching, constrictive tunnel of stress and lack of sleep. The important part, though, is that I've been getting all my work done and attending all of my classes. I had trouble with those things last year, but, now that my sister's healthier, I seem to be managing everything with relative ease. To conclude this thought, I have no idea how my friends with chronic family stresses get anything done at all.


Yesterday, I waited after school and did Tide administrative stuff and asked for a letter of recommendation by e-mail and then cast about for other things to do that weren't my TOK journals (I'm now about two behind, which is probably better than average for my class). Jess' mom and Greg appeared with Sophie in tow; they were there to return a book to Mr. Frezzo and stayed to chat for about forty-five minutes. I was mesmerized by Sophie but didn't really know what to say or do. I wanted to talk to her like a person but ended up sounding strained. She gave me a few high-fives and climbed into the desk beside me. "Desk," I said nervously.

"Both a chair and a table," Greg helped.

He asked me where I wanted to go to school (they all do, lately). I said Penn, his alma mater, and he brightened immediately. It was reassuring to see someone so positive about the town, the campus, the kids and food and classes. We discussed various other Ivies and the University of Chicago. It was interesting, actually, that he suggested U of C and Brown as good alternatives if Penn doesn't pan out (I can't imagine there's much of a difference in my chances, but whatever - the point is that he chose my second- and third-favorite schools). I hadn't really talked to Greg since that marathon Hearts session at New Year's two years ago, but I certainly like him. And, gosh, Sophie is absolutely amazing - a tiny person whose life is (apparently) mostly running and smiling and identifying objects.


After school, pho (the Friday tradition) and a considerably better mood. I keep forgetting how dependent my mood is on whether I've eaten. If I ever snap at you, please just feed me.

One final note:

SaffyCat (9:38:37 PM): see where discussing english gets us?
SaffyCat (9:38:46 PM): right back to promiscuous sex in closets

Er, no comment.

SaffyCat (8:35:52 PM): i'm so dumb about sexual imagery.... i never, ever get it
SaffyCat (8:36:09 PM): until it's pointed out to me, usually (twice now :-)) in front of the class
Smiletara (8:37:08 PM): wow
Smiletara (8:37:09 PM): hehe
Smiletara (8:37:18 PM): well just assume there's sexual imagery all over everything
SaffyCat (8:37:42 PM): hehe, i'll try
SaffyCat (8:38:01 PM): but it's just so silly.... hiding thinking about sex in images of roots piercing the earth and such
SaffyCat (8:38:16 PM): what the hell? is this more polite, because it's in code? :-)
Smiletara (8:38:18 PM): but fun
Smiletara (8:38:21 PM): hehe
Smiletara (8:38:26 PM): no, but it's more literary
SaffyCat (8:39:23 PM): i was driving home yesterday, and i decided, from then on, i was going to try to have complicated, literary sexual fantasies
Smiletara (8:39:31 PM): hehe
Smiletara (8:39:32 PM): wow
Smiletara (8:39:33 PM): crazy
SaffyCat (8:39:35 PM): then i scrapped that idea.....
Smiletara (8:39:35 PM): any luck yet?
Smiletara (8:39:39 PM): yeah
Smiletara (8:39:40 PM): figured
SaffyCat (8:39:47 PM): but i did decide to no longer look for phallic imagery
SaffyCat (8:39:54 PM): it's all going to be about vaginal imagery
Smiletara (8:40:02 PM): but.... good luck
Smiletara (8:40:04 PM): everything is phallic
Smiletara (8:40:12 PM): and it's easier to find phallic imagery anyhow
SaffyCat (8:40:13 PM): like the murky swamp in the roots image in "death in venice"
Smiletara (8:40:15 PM): anything pointy
SaffyCat (8:40:17 PM): hehe
Smiletara (8:40:19 PM): yeah
SaffyCat (8:41:16 PM): i'm going to overanalyze images of caves
SaffyCat (8:41:21 PM): and cups
Smiletara (8:41:44 PM): just like... he took a sip from the glass...... ah, vaginal imagery!?
SaffyCat (8:41:45 PM): i'm going to say hills are mammary images
Smiletara (8:41:55 PM): hehe
SaffyCat (8:42:25 PM): he took a sip from the glass - it could be rape imagery, or at least possessive sexuality
SaffyCat (8:42:31 PM): what does it imply about his character?
Smiletara (8:42:44 PM): he's thirsty?
SaffyCat (8:42:51 PM): hehe
SaffyCat (8:43:02 PM): then, this led me to think....
SaffyCat (8:43:35 PM): if the swamp, or a cave, really is vaginal imagery, why is it such a murky place?
Smiletara (8:43:38 PM): uh oh/
SaffyCat (8:43:48 PM): male fear and ignorance of female sexuality?
SaffyCat (8:43:56 PM): worried they could get lost down there?
Smiletara (8:44:09 PM): wow
Smiletara (8:44:15 PM): this was all while you were driving?
SaffyCat (8:44:48 PM): yes, home from seth's house, though that's of course unrelated
SaffyCat (8:44:52 PM): :-)
Smiletara (8:45:06 PM): oh, of course
SaffyCat (8:45:20 PM): i am, i think, going to have to blog some of this
Smiletara (8:45:28 PM): oh all of it
Smiletara (8:45:31 PM): as soon as possible
Smiletara (8:45:33 PM): for sure

So, the wedding that wasn't a wedding.... Well, my uncle and new aunt live in Baltimore County. They planned a wedding to occur this weekend at Deep Creek Lake, which I believe is in Cumberland County. Apparently Cumberland County requires premarital counseling of some sort, and the bride- and groom-to-be decided that this was impractical or ludicrous or something, and were married by a Baltimore official a week ago. So, as for the mansion they'd rented for the ceremony and reception, it became a huge storage site for beer and barbeque and swimming.


I watched two noteworthy movies: Nurse Betty, which is absolutely charming and somewhat like what I imagine Amelie would be like; and Meet the Parents, which has personal significance as a fairly accurate model of how Seth acts around my parents. I also discussed Greek philosophy with my young, conversation-starved Uncle Jeff; he, for reference, was the one who gave my sister and me rum and Coke at the last family reunion.


Today was Madrigals rehearsal after school, 5:30 until 7:30. I hung around RM until then. Seth and I found an out-of-the-way spot that was like a tower. We climbed to the top and sat perched there and surveyed the grounds. I felt oddly at the edge of reality, hovering above a place I'd only before seen from five feet up. The rehearsal, when it finally started, was productive and high-energy, with pizza and spontaneous Red Hot Chili Peppers songs.

Take me to the place I love
Take me all the way

What a cool song.... I feel hopped up and whole and awake.

I wrote this on notebook paper on the way to (what I thought was) my uncle's wedding at Deep Creek Lake - more on that later.

First, the at-school part of Friday: Josh R. and I attempted to sneak Hank off-grounds during lunch, but were foiled by the teacher who looks like Dena's brother. We paused to chat him up for a moment and discovered a skeleton key lodged in one of the theater doors (his classroom is the lobby outside the theater); the teacher bet that we couldn't dislodge it. Maybe if we had, he would have let Hank go out to lunch. As it was, Josh and I went to 7-11 alone. After school, I dropped off some papers with Mr. Thomas, and he composed one of his legendary letters of recommendation on the spot. It characterized me as "Napoleon and Hitler in one" and "a lot of malevolence in a small package." At the end, I said, "Thank you, Mr. Thomas, that was worth waiting fifteen minutes." Pause. "No it wasn't." And he became angry and tore the whole thing up (a pretense, I guess, for destroying the evidence).


After school, I waited for two hours by the library, doing Monday's homework while Seth and the drama crowd explored characterization downstairs. Eventually, Seth and I got some Vietnamese spring rolls and made our way to the park near school, that frequent haunt of potheads and small children. We sat and talked and were eaten by mosquitoes, until, at 5:30, I had to drive him home to make dinner with his grandparents. I didn't actually get home until far later than that, courtesy of the rush-hour traffic and other impediments.


At 8:00, finally, I made it to Ruchita's party, where everyone was sprawled across the couch and floor, watching the opening scenes of The Fellowship of the Ring. I had never seen it. I watched with some interest until I realized it was melodramatic and silly, and proceeded to make insipid and/or inappropriate whispered remarks to Sarah. She was probably not the best recipient (it seemed to frighten her), so I cut it out and started announcing my knowledge of LOTR and European history to the larger room, as had become the main party activity in the interim - I think I annoyed Ben E. by suggesting that, in the WWII parable theory of the books, the Ring represented the Volksgeist.


Eventually, the movie became background noise, and there was animated conversation. Unfortunately, an unnecessary amount of it was spent on my indiscretions/sketchiness. For example, Ruchita's friend Gabby suggested that Ben could use a more stylish haircut. I told him he looked sexy enough as is, which somehow spawned a series of jibes about his farm boy-ness and my Quakerism. Doing my pouty-child knee-grab motion, I declared loudly, "Ben, I could be sexy!" Of course, there was complete silence at that moment, followed by a burst of perplexed, amused laughter. Also, through no fault of my own, half of the party began weighing in on the Pop Rocks incident - whether it would hurt, whether it was worth experiencing, etc. The eventual conclusion was that it would make a good Group IV Project.

I'm trying to express today in non-destructive or -competitive terms (not "I beat" or "I won" today) - something at once more passive and positive. IB has taught me an unfortunate lesson: Except for occasionally in math, everything gets done moderately well, whether I'm prepared for it or not. I spent a late night on the Internet with other half-frazzled/half-apathetic persons. I woke up at 3:30 AM; I did a week's worth of math homework in an hour and a half. I did thirty minutes of combination math-and-map review ("Bessarabia... hyperboloid..."). I went to school and sat cross-legged against a wall, panicking mutely and then slurring half-formed conceptual questions to Alison. I didn't even understand her answers. I took one quiz and then another; both went well. God knows why - but that is heartening.


Today is also notable for the Best English Class Ever. We looked over old World Lit papers - the best examples of so-called "intellectual wankery" I've seen in my life. One relating Madame Bovary to the Cartesian coordinate system, another earnestly postulating that Aschenbach was a vampire. I'm certainly flirting with my "DIV influenced pop music" ridiculousness angle (there's a classical harp part in "Exquisite Dead Guy" preceding the slow section) but I'll likely end up doing something not stupid. My sister says, however, that that should be the topic of my admissions essay to U of C. Hehe.


Finally, I faked my way through an orthodontist appointment today, having not actually been wearing my retainers for much of the past half-year. Dr. Misri was fooled; I never have to go back. I feel so free. And tomorrow there's a party, and I'll finally get to talk to Seth for more than ten minutes (we sat under a tree by the athletic field and talked, but that's about it - too much going on this week), and then there's Homecoming, and presumably much else to look forward to, etc., etc.

Map: Near completion. Not memorized, of course - banking on profound hope that Europe hasn't changed since last assignment
Math: Homework woefully incomplete. Concepts half-understood (goal 90% by bedtime)

Tomorrow is just a day like any other day, I keep thinking, and I've gotten through all of them so far. And today was mostly painless, though I almost fell asleep standing in first period. English, too, is giving me anxiety for the first time in years; I think maybe I'll be relieved to get away from Death in Venice and Mann's musings on moral decay and the sensuality of doom. Speaking of which, the song "Exquisite Dead Guy" is very apt....

Exquisite dead guy
Rotating in his display case
Exquisite dead guy
Swear I saw his mouth move

And then "How am I supposed to let you know the way I feel / About you?" All that lust and death and longing, a la Aschenbach.... I could write a World Lit paper on it. I will write a World Lit paper on it. No, I won't, but I wish I was so bold and cool. Incidentally, TMBG prevents me from falling asleep at the wheel, so everyone on Falls Road has them to thank.


If I was feeling mean-spirited, I'd share some of why TOK has become a travesty lately. Aside from the presentations, which were spectacularly inane, though fun (all I learned from one was that Yoni doesn't know how to properly wear a halter top to conceal his nipples), we've been having bogus "seminars" on unanswerable, undebatable questions. They make me vitriolic, like my father, and I shake with quiet, powerless rage. Hehe. Nah, but I like to pretend to be furious and yell at Nick S. afterwards; that's really cathartic. Today we spent 45 minutes on "What is history?", basically hashing and rehashing two conflicting, probably equally valid definitions. Well, I suppose I was feeling mean-spirited after all. And now to map Europe - a glorified coloring project. Whee!

I was talking to Seth about blogging some of yesterday's occurrences, and even coming clean about my somewhat scandalous behavior referenced in the last entry. I said, "Oh, our friends will think, 'Those two, they're slipping into really inane sin.' "

And Seth agreed soberly, "Worst decadence ever."

The first impropriety I have to confess is kissing in Mr. Frezzo's office, at some point last week, under the glaring eye of his family portraits and Bibles and whatnot. Seth and I couldn't decide whether it'd be cooler if we were the first people ever to do so, or if we were continuing in some long choral couple tradition. I tend to think the latter, provided that the Frezzos themselves have never made out in said office. Out of good taste, I won't describe too much the circumstances of the encounter, but basically they involved Seth practicing guitar and me tagging along for the purposes of teasing and distraction; the kissing was an unintentional by-product (grin).


Impropriety #2 occurred yesterday during my record eleven-hour date with Seth. We got dinner and a movie in Bethesda, after which we decided that it was very important that we buy some candy. Pop Rocks, suggested Seth. I took it as a matter of course that there would then be making out with Pop Rocks; this idea had never occurred to Seth, though, and he was temporarily overwhelmed at the novelty. "I can't imagine it'd be much fun," I cautioned.

"Well," he said, "I think we have to do it anyway."

"Yes, of course."

So we took the Pop Rocks back to Seth's basement. The slogan for Pop Rocks is "Entertainment for your whole mouth!" Seth said he would make that his new slogan; I told him that was unbearably sketchy. He divided the contents of the package into two handfuls, and, then, on the count of three, we crammed them into our mouths and - made out. I can't say I recommend doing this; I told Seth afterwards, "That was the dumbest thing I've ever done." So of course we did it again, to finish off the package.

Me: and then in a year, maybe seth could come [join me at college]..... hehe, forgive me ;-)
Him: hehehe
Him: you just want a dorm room for....
Me: that's a filthy lie!
Me: hehe

I suppose it’s funnier if you know the identity of my companion there, but I want to preserve his nice boy image. I want him to feel he can be depraved around me. Er, or something. Today was definitely a day of rampant sketchiness, to steal the preferred term of the Eastern girl set. I have now kissed in a rather strange place – not a place of God or the dead, but approaching the former. No, that's a complete exaggeration, almost a lie. Even so, I could use a moral reawakening, maybe work with some starving children.


Also I tried and failed, I think, to teach Tara to like the Strokes. Too bad, because they've been my preferred band lately. Tara and I were supposed to be identical people, at least enough to unsettle Nick B.

Do you believe we are all innately good?

Probably not the best time to blog, as I feel hazy and sleepy and sick (a cold that I hope I didn't pass to Seth). I'm happy though. Yesterday was one of those rare and wonderful days that bears recording. Seth and I went to Cabin John Park after school to wander the site of much of our childhood. We saw The Big Slide and were disillusioned to find it's not actually very big and looks kind of knobby and old. We fed The Garbage Pig, and I was comforted to see it's still as fundamentally terrifying as it was when I was three. "I'm hungry... hungry... HUNGRY!" it whines, in the monotone voice of a man who's clearly not an actor.

"Maybe a disgruntled park employee?" I suggested.

"No, too much of a thug," said Seth. "He probably did it as part of his plea bargain."

We got the evil eye a lot from protective mothers and saw some darlingly bizarre young people (like the toddler who hissed at us then scampered away). We found a secluded amphitheater and butchered TMBG songs to ourselves. Eventually, we headed into Bethesda and moved on to Guys and Dolls - we can do a wicked "Marry the Man Today" on command.


While in Bethesda, we purchased the first Belle and Sebastian CD and ran into Nick B at Olson's. I persuaded him to take us to the Cottonwood Cafe, where he works now, as I was hoping very much to run into the legendary Eddy (recently of "Natalie and"). Eddy was a no-show, but we managed to alienate Nick on the way over through a combination of manic weirdness (we were still singing) and bawdiness. Er, whoops. I dropped Seth at home and went to bed for awhile; I still feel increasingly crummy. However, I woke up again in the late evening and had more good conversations at once than I thought was possible. I do feel strung out, but positive. And now to work.

Self-pity? Take "Dr. Worm" once daily, or as needed.

The past couple of days were dark, in terms of workload. I'm not sure how well my grades survived them, particularly the math quiz/history seminar block on Friday. However, the afternoon was pleasant and relaxed - speculation on the nature of black holes, followed by a fire drill in Physics, and then, in English, Mrs. Barrett's musings on the "ineffable." She struggled, trying to find an example of that which cannot be described, and finally said, "Have you ever tried to tell someone how much you love them, and been unable to?" I realized I had a silly, guilty grin on my face, so I looked over at Sandy and was touched to see the expression reflected on hers. Aww.


Yesterday during seventh period, I snuck out to see the touted Soheil Nassieri concert in A3. I got Seth to mock-beat up Hank over my honor, which was somehow exciting. The concert itself was amazing; I got the impression that a little music theory knowledge would have greatly enhanced my appreciation of it, though. The last five minutes were the best: Nassieri played Chopin, which has always been incredibly more affecting for me than modern classical music (the rest of the concert), and I could actually feel my brain humming in response. Heh, speak of the ineffable....

Tomorrow we'll be back in trouble again

Well, it hardly seems so important now to talk about yesterday. One of the best things about it, though, has happened two days in a row: breaking off into little presentation groups in TOK, where Ben E., Sandy, and I have intense and varied discussions about our social lives. We managed today to turn the pre-World War I system of alliances into sexual innuendo. "I don't know if I'd trust you alone on a yacht," etc. Nothing too clever, but definitely fun. I've always had a lot of respect for Sandy, and Ben E. is very nice as well, so I'm glad for the (temporary) excuse to have conversations with them.


Also, I managed to ask for college recommendations today. It was very difficult for me - my legs were shaking and I felt, oddly, like I was asking someone out. But they said yes, and one of them was particularly reassuring, so I suppose it's nice to have surmounted that particular hurdle in the college application process. I'm applying to Penn ED, and University of Chicago EA. I have one essay written, but I need at least one other. And I'm still excited and nervous, and altenatively despondent and composed (nothing too overtly optimistic here). And I want to get away, and I never want to leave.

Whee! It's 6:00 or so, and I've been up for two hours already. I had coffee, too, and now my heartrate is noticably faster - clearly this stuff is bad for me. In any case, I pulled an actual all-nighter on Monday to finish my grossly late EE; Tara stayed up with me until 4:30, which no doubt added hours to my paper but helped stave off demoralization. I love you, Tara. And the damn thing is done, for the most part, and not even half bad.


Anyway, lack of sleep put me in a haze that hasn't quite cleared yet. Seth told me yesterday morning that I looked like I'd been through a night of binge drinking. Probably accurate. I felt like I was tipsy all day: loud and giggly and impulsive. I met with Carolyn and Mr. Kelsch about the Tide during fourth period; he said something vague about needing to "get all of his ducks in a row" and then suggested ways in which we could use the school paper to further his political agenda.


I've seen bureaucracy from a lot of angles now - I was on a Board of Education committee, and worked for the Planning Commission - and it always sort of exasperates me. I mean, I certainly respect the ability to focus on details; for every broad, sweeping initiative, there has to be somebody to hash out the particulars of execution. I get it: that's how schools and cities are run. But this intense and insular focus on trivialities.... Mr. Kelsch couldn't even give us an answer ("Will we have a school paper this year?"), because first he has to iron out how [our secret potential sponsor] will both sponsor us and receive after school assessments of some sort. Not to mention this sinister political stuff.... All right, so it's not really sinister; he just wants to use the paper as an "advocate for the students," to get more money from the School Board. However, I spent the summer fighting money battles between the Planning Commission and the School Board. I know there just isn't much to go around for new construction.


Oh, I have to go, and I wasted all my time ranting about school politics like a bureaucrat. I didn't get to say half the great things about my day. All right, to be continued.

This weekend was good Seth-wise and mediocre otherwise. I spent eight hours with him on Friday after school - insane, maybe, but not so atypical. Another seven hours or so on Sunday; we watched The Graduate, which I fully appreciate now. Wonderful lines ("Plastics!" said his father gleefully, when he learned we'd rented the movie), skilled cinematography, an able Simpsons parody, the whole deal. And - I'm thrilled to say, a complex, prominent female character! Albeit evil! How lovely.


The rest of the weekend was work and fighting. I hate fighting, I tolerate work - I alternate between happiness and weltschmerz, to be a pretentious jerk about it. This is turning into Seth's post, but less food-oriented.

Maybe part of me wanted to believe that I was worth somebody really hating me, or at least having a grudge against me. It's frustrating to never attract any attention, and to have people assume I'm boring by default.


Oh, also, my moodiness last night mostly wasn't about the comment I got, though I see how it could be construed that way. I'm still upset over silly stuff, things other people have said and done lately. Give me a day or so to get over it.

I was thinking today about how Nick and I are influenced morally by the class above us - currently by their new acceptance of drinking. I suppose alcohol is a social reality on any campus, and it'll be that way for us as well. But we're exposed to the Bivalves' moral choices a year earlier than they are, and we face the questions at a younger age. No, I certainly don't intend to drink in high school - unless, parents willing, I somehow arrange a group visit to see Tara (this is my fantasy) and get a pitcher of beer for the table at dinner. Still, I never intend to be drunk; the idea of losing control is fundamentally unappealing to me, as I need my inhibitions (grin).


Otherwise, I've been virtuous and worked on homework this weekend. I arranged a meeting to discuss Tide matters with Mr. Kelsch; the paper is back on, as I hope he knew it would be (political realities, I think, necessitate publishing a school paper). I have some hopes and expectations for the year; it doesn't scare me as much as it did a few days ago. As for my social aims, I'm worried those might evaporate over the next week or so. I'm wrestling with self-pity and wondering whether I'm a jerk tonight, which I suppose is the kind of crap that strikes all teenagers eventually.