Christopher and Batman Sheets

Attention: TO KEEP ALL OF THE PEOPLE IN THIS BLOG PROTECTED AND ANONYMOUS I AM SUBSTITUTING REAL NAMES FOR PRETEND NAMES. MRS. B, YOU'LL PROBABLY FIGURE OUT WHO'S WHO BY THE TIME YOU'RE DONE.
So my friend, Rae, and I have decided to room together in college next year which will be nice because our friendship is mature enough to handle it. Anyways, "Christopher," a person that my friend and I have been best friends with since elementary isn't in our class, and won't be moving down to Lincoln with us in the fall, which Christopher is having a very hard time with.
One night, the three of us were driving around and Rae and I started talking about the things each one needs to bring with us down to Lincoln. At about this time, Christopher went completely silent and wouldn't talk. She then proceeded to fake cry, and jump out of the car.
It was then that I dropped the news. Rae and I were going to have a futon in our dorm room. Needless to say, this greatly pleased Christopher, almost to the point of her wetting herself. This gave her a little reasurrance because now she could come and stay with us... Her only requirement was that 'her' futon be draped in Batman sheets and blankets. I guess we can do that much. Peace Out.

Honey, I've Lived It.

An adult was talking to me the other day about the troubles they were going through in life. Inflation, their thoughts on divorce, their kids, the disagreements she was having with some of her friends... I sat with her while she talked about these problems with me... Bouncing ideas off of me, listening to my take on things... After the twenty or thirty minute venting session, it ended with, "Thanks for listening... Even though most of it was probably above your head."
Inflation... The economy. Please. No, I don't have a job, but I have parents that do. I have a dad that commutes 80 miles a day, that spends nearly a fifth of his money on driving to work. I have a mom, a single mom, that has a job, but it always seems like there is never quite enough... A family shouldn't have to live pay check by pay check... I don't understand... I'm living it.
Problems with friends... Ha... I've dealt with this since 3rd grade. I'm a senior and I'm still dealing with it. My biggest piece of advice to my confused confidant... it's very hard to have any successful friendships until you find out who you are personally... And then you figure out the qualities you need and don't need in a friends. I don't get it. Pshh... They don't get it.
Hold up. I thought. Above my head? As if I didn't understand what divorce was. I not only knew what it was, I understood it. I not only know what happens to the two people leaving each other, but I have felt and seen them pull apart, taking half my heart with one, and the other half with the other. See, she was only thinking what it would do to her husband and herself, but what about their kids? If she thinks it will be unbearable for her, what would it be for the young kids? She has no idea how hard it is to mend two little hearts... Don't understand it? Honey, I've lived it.

Man... I'll Miss That...

In less than one year I will be on my own. I guess not technically on my own, but I won't have parents calling me just to know where I am, my grandma or grandpa won't just drop by to give a casual hug... And late at night, I won't be laying in my bed, begging for sleep to come, and my littlest brother will suddenly attack me out of thin air. After I leave, those things will probably never happen again.
In less than a year, I will leave everything that I have ever known... Which won't necessarily be a bad thing, because this is the exact thing I have asked for since I can remember... But it will take some getting used to. I won't be able to hop in a car full of friends and waste the day away doing absolutely nothing. I won't have practice at six o'clock in the mornings, therefore, neither Kenzie or I will come to school, hair wet, face makeupless, with nothing on but a white tank top and a pair of baggy sweat pants... I will miss that.
A year from now, I'm sure I'll have friends, but I won't be around the ones that know my every word before it comes out of my mouth, or the ones that tell me when I have something in my teeth. Next year, when I fall, I'll be around people that might actually help me up, instead of the one's here that stop and laugh until I get up and then tease me about it for the rest of the day because they know that if you hang out with me, the tripping goes hand and hand... Believe it or not, I'll miss that too.
After this year, I will no longer be able to run into the house, grab the $5 off the table and go eat supper down at Jims... For one, I'll be too poor, and secondly, I won't have a Jims. After this year, I won't be able to drive down the street, in reverse, just because I can, or go up to the point and sit on the hood of my car and watch the stars, just because there's nothing else to do.
Once I go off next year, I won't come home and have me dog and cat waiting there to greet me at the door... Man I'll miss that.

We Worked That Camera.

Yesterday morning I woke up and thought to myself, 'This is your last first game of your life.' That's when it hit me, I am growing up. I drifted in and out of classes all day, sitting in the desk before the tardy bell rang, but not really being there.
I snapped out of my day dreams of college, dorms, and messy ponytails and sweatpants and came back into my reality. I looked around me and saw my class mates that I have been with everyday for the last ten years... And I wondered, ten years from now, will I still know them? Will I be able to close my eyes and still picture the color of their eyes or the dimple in their cheeks? In ten years will I be able to pick of the phone and call one of them and immediately recognize their voice?... Probably not.
The bell rang and it was time for me to get on the bus for the game. Of coarse the seniors sat together, because thats what we always do. Since our freshman year the five of us have basically been attached at the hip... And thats not just a generic statement.
We got our cameras out and started posing. Big smiles, huge hugs, bunny ears, and peace signs... We worked that camera for all we were worth... But while we were sitting there laughing and trying not to cut anyone out of the frame, it hit me that this is probably one of the last times that all five of us will be in the same photo... Sure there is homecoming and prom... But not many more opportunities after that.

It's Nice To Know That I'm Not The Only One...

Reading several blogs beside my own helped me a lot in getting ideas for the subject matter for my future blogs. But more than that, it was reassuring to hear that I'm not the only student feeling different from most of her peers.
Another thing I realized from reading all of these different blogs is that being different can be more of a head-start, rather than a weight you have to carry all of the way to the finish line.

Cheeseburgers Are Getting Old...

Living in a small town has many perks... You know just about everyone on a first name basis, you know ever single face, not only in your class, but in the whole entire school, and you have at least two other sets of parents looking out for you... It's safe here.
But in a small town, there's not a lot of diversity. Most of the townspeople tend to think just about the same. Your skin is about identical to everyone else's. You all eat the same things, do similar things on the weekends, and vote for the same people when November rolls around every four years. There is absolutely nothing wrong with this lifestyle... On the contrary, it's very safe.
People can depend on tomorrow being exactly like it was yesterday without worrying about if something darastic is going to change over night... Because believe me, it won't.
In a small town, everything is always normal. But to a person like me, cheese burgers with pickles and ketchup with a side of krinkle-cut french fries is getting old. The one stop light in the middle of town is fading dimmer every night. And personally, if I was old enough to vote in November, my check-mark wouldn't be in the same place as many of my other peers and elders. To me, being normal is so last summer.