Wuthering Heights is a horrible book. I got to page 100 and quit, and I rarely quit a book, especially if it's assigned for English like this one was. We took a quiz over it today and I wrote her a note: "Yeah...haven't really read the book, in case you couldn't tell. Whoopsie." I hope she doesn't take that as a smart-ass comment and get mad at me for it. I was just being honest. But yeah, classicism isn't my style. All I see in this book is a bunch of rich people exchanging spouses and doing fucked up shit in the name of "love." At least I can read a summary of the book on the internet.
It's been two months, I think, since my mom and I had that conversation about my sexuality. And hey, whaddya know, nothing's been said ever since. The only time I brought it up after that was when I told her I came out to a couple of my close friends and her response was, "Be careful who you tell." Thing is, she grew up in a rural Illinois high school with only a hundred students. There was one lesbian in her class who was constantly tormented, even threatened physically. I think that's stuck in her mind. When she looks at me, she sees that girl.
I had plans with Brittany tonight, but she got out of work late and my curfew is at eleven, so we'd only have an hour to hang out. She invited me to her house and everything. I freaked out, did and redid my hair several times, and changed my outfit once or twice all for nothing. I know it's stupid to get so worked up over something as simple as that, but that's me for you. It's okay though. We may hang out tomorrow if I get back from Springfield early enough, or maybe perhaps Sunday. The tiniest part of me is somewhat relieved because the idea of meeting her family was making me nervous.
Yesterday was my birthday. Being 17, I can now legally watch R-rated movies. My grandma's birthday gifts were rather creative among all the money I received--she gave me a pass for three free golf lessons and three X-Men comics. I didn't even know that she knew I liked comics. I've been wanting to learn how to golf for awhile now, so I really do appreciate the free lessons. And I've considered starting a little comic book collection. I think I'll start hunting for Iron Man, Spiderman, X-Men, Hellboy, Batman, Wonder Woman, and Ghost Rider comics. The rest don't really interest me.
Spring break has been so very dull. The only thing worth mentioning, really, is the job interview I had yesterday. If I get this job I'll definitely be quitting the one I have now. The managers are rude as hell and they don't know how to run a business. This new place seems much nicer. Less greasy too. I'm hoping for a phone call soon. If I get hired I'll be a cook. Makin' pasta and other Italian foods.
If Rick Santorum wins the election, I'm moving to Canada. If Mitt Romney wins the election, I'm moving to Canada. Really I'm just hoping Obama will get re-elected. Four years of zero progress is better than four years of Santorum's radical campaign against homosexuality or Mitt Romney's partiality to the rich. God damn, what is this? A high school election? I guess our country will be forever doomed to be run by idiots. We've been the laughingstock of the world for so long. And I completely understand why.
Yesterday I came close to tears during Health class. A former meth addict came in and spoke to us. Y'know, it's one thing to see pictures of addicts on billboards or hear horror stories from anti-drug campaigns...it's another thing entirely to see an addict in person, to listen to their story without the flashy badges and the cliched "Just Say No" slogans. I mean, when we have assemblies and listen to cops and other nobodies rant about the dangers of drugs, it's so...impersonal.
Somebody ask me a question. About anything. Virtually anything, and I'll answer it as honestly as I possibly can. Really. Just do it. C'mon.
I've been thinking about how selfish I really am. Some of the friends that I talk to...if they're going through a hard time, I frankly don't care. For example, my friend Anna always bitches about how mean her boyfriend is, and I honestly don't give a fuck. She is not worthy of the fucks I could possibly give. Most people, I've realized, are not.
Yesterday I saw The Hunger Games with my dad and sister. I gotta admit, I wasn't expecting it to be too awesome. I don't know why. But damn, this movie was FANTASTIC. It did the book so much justice. The acting, the scenery, the script...all wonderful. I only have one minor complaint. In the movie Katniss gets the mockingjay pin from a trader in the Seam, but in the book she gets it as a gift from the mayor's daughter, whose name escapes me. Also, the movie never explained Avoxes, which are the Capitol servants who are basically brainwashed people with their tongues cut out.
Our school district made a million dollar budget cut. At the end of this year, the school newspaper will no longer be running. Which means my excitement of becoming entertainment editor next year has been trampled. Ugh. You have no idea how infuriating this is. They're also cutting World Literature and they won't be replacing my AP English teacher when she retires this year. Of all the things to be cut, it had to be journalism. The ONE extracurricular thing I enjoyed doing in school. Fuck my luck.
God damn, I love this time of year. One of the many reasons: all the ladies in shorts. Of course, right now, I am utterly blind to all but one. Brittany looks sooooo amazing in short shorts. Not the slutty, up-your-asscrack kind of short shorts, but the reeaaal flattering kind that's just the right length. I try not to check her out too obviously. Or drool. But damn it, she has incredible legs. And those thighs? Jesus H. Christ, it drives me mad. *Insert winky face here*
Can being in love be a one-sided thing? In other words, can you truly be in love with someone if the feelings aren't reciprocated?
I honestly don't think you can. It's pretty difficult to be IN love with someone when they don't see you in the same way. I mean, you may love them a lot, have really deep feelings for them, but I think being IN love requires two people. You just experience it fully when it's returned. But, I dunno. Maybe I'm wrong. Maybe you can be deeply IN love with someone without them returning the same sentiments. But I think that would be pretty damn hard.
I really don't like being around my grandparents anymore. Or any member of my mother's family for that matter, except my cousins, and I never see them anymore. It really sucks, because whenever my grandparents come around I get hit with this sudden wave of irritation. Like they annoy me or something. I know that's a terrible thing to say about two people who love me very much, but...I dunno. Their attitudes towards the world just bug me. And not just the homophobic bits. I can't help not enjoying their presence. That's just the way it is.
Something big yet not big happened last night when I went out for dinner with my friends. My bro friend Judd randomly asked me if I've ever dated a girl....right in front of our friend Haylee. I gave her this anxious look, and she just says, "Don't look at me like that. I already know Jenna."
The friend I came out to Friday has been treating me the same, like the whole coming out thing was no big deal. So that's nice to know, that things won't change between us.
I'm starting to develop a cold. I never get sick. Like, ever. So this is really bothering me. Right now I'm about to overdose on Zicam.
Brittany was supposed to bring me her poems today, but she's sick. Now I have to wait yet another day. I gave her a poem about my dad yesterday and I really hope I haven't overstepped some boundary, hope my disclosure of a personal situation didn't chase her away. I doubt it did.