Five years ago today I woke up and noticed my ring, my cheap ring from Claire's, the one I loved because it looked like the one Fi from So Wierd had, I noticed it wasn't on my finger but rather sitting on my bedside table. This was unusual. I actually distinctly remember being confused for a minute, then slipping it back on, and thought nothing more of it.
Two hours later my eighth grade social studies class, in the middle of some useless chapter review or another, turned on channel five and saw the smoke rolling out of the tower. We were all quite confused, especially a few minutes later when there was another one.
Now we know what was happening that day. It was much more than a distraction from another monotonous game of Hollywood Squares (St. B's social studies style) or an excuse to get out of one of Joan's crazy labs or a day off of soccer. It was much more. And to this day, I can't help but shake the superstitious thoughts that come to mind when I think about that ring. It's stupid I know. But it's sort of like- I should have known that morning would be different.
I wish I would have had sort of an omen for this weekend.
This weekend wasn't bad. When you get down to the nitty-gritty (is that how you spell that phrase?) of it, I had a blast! I got to see Syd and Sarah and Scotty, and I got drunk, and I made bad choices, and I partied, and I took pictures and I didn't think twice about what I was doing. Except that one time.
Even when you drink, when you're drunk, you know what you're doing. I knew exactly what I was doing. I didn't honestly feel too bad about it. It's not the action so much. It's that I felt bad. I ask myself now- why? No one cares. No one cared then and no one cares now. I wasted an entire day feeling bad about what I did, even though I had no right to at all.
Loulou pointed out that it was probably more that I regret missed opportunity. She's right. She knows, she always knows. That's why I come whining to her during such crises. She knows what needs to be said, and she keeps me from breaking down.
Now, as if my sudden depressing titbit of news today (after eight hours working with mother, no less) wasn't enough- no, no, on top of that we had to go see some super depressing movie called Factorus (maybe?) at Cedar Lee. It wasn't even depressing- it was angsty, angsty like this annoying post right now. It really didn't make me feel any better about my life.
And to SUPER top this off, it's September 11th, which, okay honestly doesn't mean THAT much to me, I know it's a horrible tragedy and all, but I was very little affected by it, I mean, I have my posh, bubbly suburban life to protect me from the horrors of terrorists. But I also read Kite Runner today (an apt novel considering the particular milestone) and that's not exactly a "laugh-out-loud" family comedy.
And just to make things spectacular, I broke a nail, right down to the cuticle, and now my finger hurts.
It's just one of those days, I suppose.
Tomorrow Sony is coming out to fix the laptop so that it's actually sort of useful when I go off to college. Maybe then I'll be cheered up. In the meantime, still no one reads this, and it just feels good to at least begin to sort things out, so whatever. No one cares, I know. I'm sorry for wasting your time.
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