May 16, 1997 Friday
Different title, same great insights. Boy, I had some fun writing Is Anybody Out There?. Writing that record day by day, bit by bit, was one of my greatest joys. Funny, I feel like I’ve barely scraped the surface. In nearly 300 pages, only an essence was grasped. I feel like I’ve barely explained anything. If you thought you where in the clear, think again. I’m back, and better than ever. Before I kick things off on this second installment o’me, and I going to give the tired spiel about how I’m going to try to very best to be accurate. Have everyone signed the sheet being passed around? Great. Now, where was I?
Oh, that’s right. I was about to begin the second of my life. Esteemed reader, you are about to go on a journey. Where this journey takes us, I have no idea, so I suggest you go before we leave. There now; let’s get started. May I introduce you to my newest compilation if ideas and thoughts, which I have entitled Memoirs from the Edge: Further Tales of the Secondrateparadise. Welcome aboard, I’ll be you captain for this cruise.
And here I was, set to go on hiatus. Some hiatus… two days! I can’t help it. Like of the speakers tried to stress when I went to the Western writing convention, I cannot help but write. Writing is as much a part of me as the air that fills my lungs. It would be a kind of death, now that I have gotten a taste for it. Even as I put Is Anybody Out There? to sleep, I know I could not go long without starting a new edition. There really is no difference between the first journal and this latest incarnation. It is simply the next stone in the path, an extension of my crazy escapades and adventures. My signature will even still appear at the end of every entry (you lucky people you).
Someone must be wondering out there why I quit my first journal, because that’s exactly what I did. I quit. I got tired of writing it, dragged it along under its accumulated weight. Putting an end of IAOT? was not a thought-out, premeditated move; I simply thought Wednesday, “That’s it, I can’t write this anymore. Ending my journal is something I must do.” There are at least two reasons for this, and yes, the major factor was the fracturing with Sidney. I didn’t like what I my journal had become. Before the last week or so I had simply, faithfully related the news of the day as I saw it, but lately it hadn’t been IAOT? at all. My journal had mutated into the Sidney Report, and I wasn’t comfortable with that. It just didn’t seem right. There’s nothing really wrong with talking about her, because she is–and really, still is–such a big part of my day and life. However, I regret ignoring all else, and focusing on only one thing. Secondly, with graduation impending and the dismantling of our class about to occur, it seemed like a natural time to begin anew. As I have said, I knew it wouldn’t be long before I started a new journal. That is what I needed: a fresh start on page one. In the back of my mind, I had as a promise, that line from Casablanca, that goes, “Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, but soon, and for the rest of your life.”
Last night, after the baccalaureate in which our Congressman, Rep. Ray LaHood attended, a group of us went to Avanti’s to eat. I’m not going to pretend that I’m writing this a generic bystander. I had difficulty listening last night. I know some of the things April Gatson and Co. have done, if I understand them correctly, are really unfair, but truthfully it was a hateful conversation at our table. Before I go on, I know you don’t always talk about them, and you just wanted to discuss the newest small town atrocities, but I didn’t care for what we were talking about. I don’t like hearing–however true it is–about our class’ underground troubles. You have to understand, I remember when we were all innocent little kids, you do not. That’s not your fault. When it comes to this, I cannot decide if I would rather by happy and ignorant of the goings on, and know it all and be sad. Last night didn’t seem to put you in a good mood.
To be further honest, I didn’t like hearing the conversations at Avanti’s last night, or at the Country Club this afternoon. In a way, they won. They succeeded. You were caught up in their foolishness–at least up to a point. If you doubt, let me use your words. You said you had disliked Senior Week because they had taken control of it. I enjoyed Senior Week, because I didn’t think of such things. I thought instead about my friends, and how I wanted to have fun with them. I do like what said, as Willa, you and I were sitting together, about the prediction that they will face problems in college. You would wager you will be right.
Alright, let’s change this record to something jazzier… We graduate Sunday! I really can’t believe it. I always thought I wouldn’t be ready. Funny how as something is about to happen we become more accepting. I will look back on high school, when I do, as a fond time with everyone that was my friend. We are on the verge of a new journey, for this is the real commencement of our lives. Here’s wishing everybody is happy, healthy and successful. That reminds me, I had yet to write Sidney her farewell message. No time like the present right?
I can’t say I remember the first time I saw you, but I remember the intrigue I had for a person that was so completely different. What do I say? I am going to start off by telling you why you are such a great person. Your personality is unbelievable (I mean that in a good way). I envy the way can talk to everyone, and your friendliness to so many. You can do what I have always wanted to, which is sing. That must be great. Something else that has always struck me is your ordinariness (I better explain that one real quick). I quickly saw that with your gifts you could very easily look down on everyone, yet, that has never crossed your mind. I love it that a person could spend an entire day (if he could listen to you that long..haha) and he could barely guess from where you come. Actually, you are so modest I know sometimes it can catch up with you. You do have real problems, but from my easy-to-say vantage point, some of them might just be between your curled locks of wavy blonde hair. Example, if I may: I told you you were beautiful because it is the truth. I know as you read this, you find this utterly preposterous, but I have never been so truthful… or so right. You are beautiful. Your life is set, and you have nothing to fear. I only wish I could be a part of your future. Remember all of our fun times, and you better never forget me, or Elmwood. Good luck with all you do, Sidney. Call me if you want to do something, or just want to talk. Write to me in college–or else!–Whiz.
After Avanti’s Colin and I went to Barnes & Nobles with a couple girls, but they for some reason left without letting us know (the nerve!). Then Colin and I went to Willow Knolls, to see Austin Powers, but we were too late. Undaunted, we went to nearby Second Cinema and got a few movies. On the way home Colin called his house, but he was unable to come over. We finally got home at about 11:30, but I went downstairs to watch The Blues Brothers and The Ambulance. I finally got to bed at 3:30. It was fun to do once, but I won’t make a habit of it.