Last day of school and then, graduation. Many are excited, eager. They can't wait to get out of this place, to leave high school. But I?
I don't want to go.
Will you sign my yearboooooook?
I'll sign yours, too, if you like. Also, tell me what color ink you want me to use when I transfer your message into my yearbook. Because that's what I want to do. Because you lot are my fantastic new friends that I have met this year and my yearbook would not be complete without you signing it.
Oh, and if you do copy out my messages, I'd like.... purple ink, if you have it. Black if you don't.
Long story as to how this got here, but...
So, just Finals Week left before graduation... It's all starting to seem a little more real now. I'm still under the delusion that not much is really going to change after I graduate - I'll still be going to school, in the same town, seeing my same old friends, et cetera - but at least graduation itself and leaving this school seem real.
I do hope I'll still get to see my new crush, too. We've exchanged phone numbers, and she suggested that we go for a hike together sometime, so, fingers crossed.
Thing the First: Not-quite-two-weeks left until graduation.... The reality of it still hasn't quite sunk in.... In my mind, high school just sort of goes on forever - like, sure, there's summer, but then after summer, just another year of high school.
I thought she was doing okay, being back in her own house, which is what she wanted more than anything else. But apparently no. She hates not being allowed to go upstairs, and today she tried to beat one of her caregivers with a cane. Not that that would actually do much damage, weak as she is, but still... beating someone with a cane.
The Twenty-Four Hour Relay is a big annual Memorial Day Weekend tradition at my school; this year marked the twentieth instance. According to some, it's supposed to be some kind of 'challenge' to be taken seriously, but my impression is more that it's supposed to be a big sober party to prove to highschoolers that sober parties are fun as well as safe. Sober parties are the only kind of parties in my world, of course, but that's not the point, and not the case with many of my classmates anyway.
I haven't mentioned too much about this before, because I've been doing a pretty good job of ignoring/avoiding it in real life, but my grandmother Oma is living with my family now and she's a nearly impossible person to live with. She keeps saying that she wants to go home to her two-story house sixty miles away, even though she can scarcely stand up without assistance. She can't hear unless we shout, and then she gets annoyed with us for shouting at her. She always needs help changing her diapers. She calls everybody but the immediate family 'Olga.' Et cetera et cetera et cetera.
Last night was Q Prom. The Q stands for Queer. It was fun, though not as fantastic as the school's prom. But it did give me a perfect opportunity to wear sideburns.
Sometime within the last week or two, I gave an interview for the school newspaper, about my skull collection. It was published yesterday, and I got a few comments on it today. Mr Anatomy Teacher was particularly impressed, and went to another classroom (or maybe some secret store-room of random school stuff, I don't know) and came back with a beauty of a skull that for a moment I thought might be a bear but then decided it was probably a sea lion and definitely not a bear.
Yestereve was a sort of awards ceremony at my school. I got lots of awards - the most, maybe - but that's not the point. The point is that the school choir sang 'Blackbird' - you know, 'Blackbird singing in the dead of niiiiiight....' - and my eyes actually welled up, because, I guess, that was her song. Grey's. Even though she didn't actually sing it, then or before, and even though it hasn't affected me when I've heard recordings or watched Across the Universe or anything.
I talked to my counsellor (I don't like to call her a therapist - it's not therapy, what we do... not sure it's counselling, either, though... not sure what it is - she asks questions and I answer them and she finds out about me and I'm not sure whether I gain anything from it or not, except that sometimes she's helpful in communication between me and my parents) today, and told her about my gender stuff, more completely than I've told anyone else before.
(In no particular order)
1. Swallows. Cliff swallows. They've invaded my school and are building nests with mud from the baseball field, and they're so cute. Just look at the little guys:
I just realized today that with their little triangular faces and bug-eyes, they look a lot like bats, only without the big ears. They also flutter kind of like bats sometimes. And I think bats are just the cutest things short of puppies and kittens.
That's a funny word, 'aftermath.' Where does the 'math' part come into it? What does 'math' mean besides 'mathematics'? 'Aftermath' has nothing to do with mathematics.
Yes, I got suspended from school for two days for punching Leigh. Not so bad, as consequences go. I'm still glad I did it.