Filed under: Events, My Day, My Explanations, Ranting | Tags: alive, anyone, august rush, big girl, brendan, bus, caffeine, car, change, chaperones, city, coddle, coffee, conversation, crap, cyber-sport, cybersport, damn, date, Dave, dick, don't, downstairs, driving, explain, family, father, feel, flirt, God, gowanda high school, grow, have to, important, kenny, lasertron, last night, like, love, marya, mcdonald's, michelle, monopoly, mute, nice boy, night, on my own, peaceful, people, pissy, regardless, remember, says, scrapbook, senior ball, sister, snuck, Strictly As Friends, stupid, talking, the end, this morning, today, understand
Well, it’s done. Red lipstick and all, it’s all over.
And I had so much fun.
It might be said that I was a “bad date.” Well, to be honest, there was a legitimate reason I capitalized “Strictly As Friends” when I agreed to go with him. Because I only want to be friends.
The ‘tude he had going all of last night wasn’t going to ruin my evening, no sir. If he’s going to mope around, should I coddle him or have a blast on my own? That was the question.
The answer is: um, a blast, duh. And he can join in– As My Friend– if or when he wants to.
He didn’t really, and I almost feel bad if he didn’t have a great time. But what the heck, just because he can’t be himself for one night, I should be a funsucker of myself to baby him? No, thanks.
I danced the entire damn night away, and then sucked at Cyber-Sport and Lasertron respectively (but competitively).
Then I snuck off the bus (they weren’t keeping track, anyway) and into Kenny’s car. He knew I was sneaking, though, so I got shotgun. Brendan, Marya, Kenny and I went to McDonald’s and had some great discussions; then we jammed our way to Dave’s where we pretended to play Monopoly and watched “August Rush.” I stole a few five hundred dollar bills from the bank when Kenny wasn’t looking, missed my turn a few times, and wasn’t altogether super-impressed by the movie. Dave was still being porky.
What did he expect? A magical night of romance and adoration? Excuse me, no. That’s why I specified “Strictly As Friends.”
Urgh. So aside from the mild frustration and acute craving for caffeine, it was a great time.
And I learned something, when I was sitting silent in the bus seat on the way to Lasertron. My date was mute and the night was backlit by city glow. I was bored, and my mind was quiet, so I started talking to God. About how peaceful everything was right then, and how thankful I was to be lucky enough to have a night with my friends, regardless of, whatever. That’s what made me decide to go with Kenny, Brendan, and Mar, although if and/or when my mother finds out I did that she won’t approve. She’ll probably be pissed. But I’m a big girl, and I trust Kenny driving more than I trust my own father. I had more fun with my friends than I had with my supposed “date,” who wanted more than I was able to give him.
My sister says “Why not?!” in an outraged tone of voice when I explain that I don’t want to date Dave or anything.
She doesn’t understand. I really value his friendship, when he’s normal. But hell no, I don’t like him romantically. I don’t like anyone like that. The closest one, maybe to that, is Kenny because I liked him so much last year and we can still flirt. But that comes nowhere near like liking.
Just because I like a guy’s family, and attitude, and upbringing, does not mean I have to like him. Just because my family is worried for me that I haven’t dated anyone, specifically a “nice boy” since Craig, doesn’t mean I have to like the first one that comes along.
I don’t have to date anyone, or like anybody. I don’t want to.
So now that I’ve made myself irritable, I’m going to go get some coffee and go downstairs. I’ll finish cleaning my room and begin a plan for the scrapbook I plan to make. I’ll be productive until, like, seven tonight and then go to bed. But I’ll remember the thoughts I shared with God and hopefully be able to share more. He knows how I feel about this stupid boy-family crap. He’ll be able to help me find a way around almost feeling like a dick and definitely feeling super pissy about it.
He also helped me understand that it’s important to feel vital, and alive, just as it’s important to grow and change and strike out on my own a little. Re: going with Kenny instead of riding the bus. Like, who cares? Not our chaperones. They all drove out separately, anyway. No one gave a damn.
So I will. I’ll be alive and love people and feel what I feel. The end for today.
Filed under: My Day, My Explanations, Random Thoughts, Writing | Tags: already, anna netrebko, bag, beginning, beverage, big things, bob marley, brendan, cappuccino, clique, clique-y, cobble, cozy, critical, deep, deep thinking, devil's spawn, docile, don't care, don't know, downstairs, drama camp, eight, eight days, emma, end, excuses, first day, floodwater, friend, girl, God, grab, hard time, head, headache, hopefully, hot beverage, hurt, i don't know what i'm talking about, kids, kim, lay low, life, little sister, love, man, materialism, maybe, meeting, melodic line, michelle, more stress, mrs. ripley, music, my room, old story, opera, Opera Freak, organize, outfit, pound, practice, relaxing, ripley, room, scare, school, shit, sing, sister, sister's friend, story snippets, stress, talk, Tara, techniques, the avett brothers, The Flood, thinks, troposphere, vocal performance, vocal technique, voice, wal-mart, Writing, yeah
I don’t know what I want to write about. I don’t know what I want to do right now. I don’t know what I want to do with my life.
Well crap, talking to Brendan always makes me think about the big things. God and life, love, materialism and all of those… big things. Deep thinking. Like floodwater deep (and that’s pretty deep, kids).
Oh man, does my head hurt. It’s just beginning to start to pound. My sister has a friend over, so it’s not like I can go in my room and sing to music. Or even practice and try to talk myself out of the headache. Nope, I have to be a docile little girl and not scare the shit out of Tara with melodic lines warbling through the troposphere.
I think I might grab some cappuccino (we went to Wal-Mart today) and head downstairs anyway, turn on some Avett Brothers or Anna Netrebko or maybe Bob Marley. I don’t care about what my sister’s friend thinks about me, that’s not why I’m not going to practice. I do care that my vocal techniques might make Tara’s somewhat critical and clique-y attitude whip toward my sister. They already call me the Opera Freak… therefore I won’t make Michelle pull more excuses out of the air about me. I think she already has enough of a hard time, because so many people that know me end up meeting her. She came home from Drama Camp one day and told me I was the Devil’s spawn. Ripley called her Kim. Emma called her Kim. Everyone else called her Kim’s little sister, except for like, Colleen. I think it gets a little old after a while.
So I won’t put any more stress on her. I’ll lay low and put together my bag for school (eight days!). I might cobble together a “first day” outfit. Drink some caffeinated beverage, and organize some old story snippets.
Yeah, that’s what I’ll do. It’ll be a cozy, hopefully relaxing end to the day. Maybe.