[Insert my last name] - you DO NOT Lector on 15 May.
- When you give me availability dates, I wish you would stick with them, rather than go to someone else to say you would like to Lector a particular Mass!
OK. So how old is the director for lectors? Probably in his early 60's now. Every month he asks for what dates we won't be available to lector for the next month and schedules us around that. We have to get these dates to him before the 15th of every month. Like I'm supposed to know when I'm going to be available all the next month. Right. Now, every year, the church has a mass for all its graduating seniors. The person who's in charge of this mass is the youth director, Kelly. She always asks two of the Seniors to lector for that mass. Naturally, since I have been lectoring for over 4 years now, I would like to lector for the Senior mass. But apparently, the lector director has already scheduled people to lector for that mass. They're not even normal lectors! That's crap. Well, Kelly gets it changed, and I guess my lector director has a little trouble with this... I think being able to schedule everybody is some sort of power trip for him or something. Whatever, that's crap. Apparently, I am not the only one who had to make changes. So he sends out this e-mail to EVERYBODY on the lector list chewing me out for messing up his little schedule. WHA? He's too immature to take it up with me personally, without embarrassing me in front of everybody? That's so rude. I have a mind to write him something back.
This crazed obsession ingrained in my very being is starting to destroy these sweet little threads. They crack and break, these stalagmites and stalagtites. They're fed on, striped candy canes, worn just too thin. ---further progression of stupid thoughts--- I don't understand this need to make connections with others, this need for others to understand these aspects of myself. So morose, just being unable to voice these things I've so longed to express. Letdown, and yet still I count on others to see the good in me. I have been mistaken. All people want to do is compare themselves to you. Be better than you.
I am a pseudo-neophyte. These feelings are constant. They rise like oil to the top and then the bottle is shaken, and for just a moment I know peace. Alas, we all know its fate; peace finds its niche deep beneath the surface.
Tragedies are a happy time. With tragedy comes catharsis. All of your half-feelings become whole. Impurities are cast off and for once your thoughts are concentrated on this perfection. It's never easy, facing something nameless. Finally, you're able to label them... Take them in, nurse them. Helplessness is the root of unhappiness.
Damn. These thoughts flee from some ominous, inevitable force.
My prom shoes, which I ordered on Thursday, April 3rd, are still not here. If I don't get them by tomorrow, someone will be getting a talking to. So I still don't know where to go for college. I keep leaning towards one for a couple of days and then the other for the next few days. And then back again. Today's a Nebraska day. I suppose I should choose Nebraska since they offered me a scholarship. I don't know... Want to see the shoes that I ordered?
Here they are I got them in yellow; the ivory was out of stock.
I really wanted these, but they are not really promish shoes. I will barely get away with my Embellished Satin Slides, but I am thrilled because there is no heel! (YES!)
Today I was supposed to go to Noodles House in Mockingbird Station and eat Chicken Padd Thai with G, but she is "not feeling up to it." G is frequently a letdown as of recent. I understand that she just got blood taken, but...: ( I hate looking forward to something the whole weekend only to find out we will not being doing that. : | I am sick of saying we will do stuff and then not doing it. That happens a lot. Ever since...5th grade I think. We were wimps. Operation PoPo, for instance...A failed plot. No one had the nerve! Which is crap.
Or saying I should sit over there during lunch with the boy who sits by himself so often, though he has friends. Sometimes, I marvel at that strange friendship, only to realize how little I actually know about anyone. I probably deserved it. But come on, who says, and I quote, "I hope I'm included in that 'Some people should be killed' comment. I want to empty my veins into my bathtub and drown myself in my own blood. Killed by the very thing that gives me life. How ironic." and gets away with it? But of course. Wes does. As he replied, "how cliché." What is liquid pleather anyway? Is it a real substance, or just some odd combination that is supposed to sound cool? Once again, "how cliché."
I really am baffled at my own thoughts. I get a little sad when I read how much Darius is in love Katie. Why? I think I would probably scare him. And her for that matter. We have not been friends for years, she and I. He and I were never friends. But I find his love for her so enthralling to read. I do not even know him or have any opinion towards his person. This is what it has come down to... How very sad. I suppose I am just generally saddened by the fact that my friends are moving on in their lives and I am stuck in the same place. I try to find things that have changed in my life. How have I changed? How have I bettered myself? I do not believe I have, really. This entry looks longer than it really is. The links are long and winding. And winded. I chuckle at my own little jokes. hehehe
Suddenly, I am reminded of the group's plan to travel across country after senior year's over. Yet another thing we have planned for so long, which is only a thought in our minds for an eternity. We will not travel across country. We will not travel even across town together. So silly.
So this entry was pretty much pointless. I hope I get more interesting...I could read back through these entries and confirm my own shallow beliefs that I have, indeed, changed.
Glenny
Jenny
Joy
Jeremy
Josh
Shawn
This is ME.
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