The non-chronological collected works of my misspent youth, with notes, for your reading pleasure. Most names have been changed because I probably didn't ask you first.

Friday, August 29, 2014

Senioritis: January 19, 1994

It's some cosmic joke that life has left me with nothing but a purple pen to write today. I haven't liked a purple pen since the fifth grade when Jane and Shannon started that bra club at recess and made me get one of those fat pens with thirty different ink colors and a training bra before I could join. I didn't actually need the training bra at the time, but I had to wear it to sit with them. 

Anyway I hate this purple pen because it's purple but also because it's a ballpoint and ballpoint pens are supremely humiliating even when they aren't the color of fucking Grape Kool-Aid.

It is January of my senior year and I have yet to find a soulmate or a date or even someone to make out with behind the sofa in the music house. I'm still pretty sure that I'm heterosexual though I guess it's possible that might change at college. I've never fallen in love with a girl but given my lack of luck it's probably best to leave all options open.

I think I'm still embarassingly sort of hung up on  the same guy I had a crush on in fourth form, because the guy I though I was in love with in fifth form ended up being in love with my best friend (of course) and  ALSO REALLY A WHOLE LOT WEIRDER than I could handle (I probably was already done before that night last fall when he came over to Dad's house and tried to cheer Rebecca & me up by getting spontaenously naked and doing modern dance moves on the deck railing. I don't think I've ever wanted anyone to put their pants back on so badly in my whole life). Anyway I like to think I'm g playing it pretty close to the chest about my old inamoratus (is that a word??!!), but I'm pretty sure everybody knows. I mean, you know, right? Don't answer. Or you can answer, but not in a way that fills me with shame and recrimination. Because I'm pretty sure he still hates me.

I want to fall in love. I want to be loved. I really, really, really don't want to be a virgin when I start college.

I have great friends, the best, most interesting people in the school and I don't care if that does sound cliquish and elitist. I have something to do every night of the week,  but I don't know a single straight guy that would even kiss me right now. And that includes actors.

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