Tuesday – We have been back for a few weeks or one and a half or whatever and I have got to call Genevieve and Jane.
It’s a wonder I’ve ever managed to maintain any friendships in my life since I’ve always been utterly incapable of using telephones, due to anxiety. Nowadays we have texting, which is a life-saver, but back then the thought of picking up a phone was panic-inducing. I doubt I ever called either Genevieve or Jane.
I got a letter from Marlene and am going to make her a comic of Mia + Avril.
Mia and Avril were the alter egos my friend Marlene and I made up. These alternate versions of us were, unfortunately, no more exciting than the real deal. I’m not sure if I ever made this promised comic. Somehow I doubt it.
On the vacation we went (on the last day) to Ripley’s Believe it or Not museum, it was cool! And we also did some mini-put on the way back. In the States we also did mini=put, and I got a shirt, denim, and dad got a whole lot of stuff…
Riveting. But you know, those family vacations we took when my siblings and I were kids were a lot of fun. All things considered we were a pretty functional family. We got along for the most part and all had a good time. Even my sister, who was, and continues to be, the black sheep because she’s more sensitive and emotional than the rest of us, was a good sport about those family vacays and the cheesy things we did. Good for us.
August 16, 1991 – Friday – Marlene called me yesterday and said for me to call her (answering machine got it) so we could arrange meeting before school starts. I had a dream last night. In it I met a guy… SIGH. He had shoulder length blon curly hair, gray-blue eyes and was he cute. His name was Alexandre, we were on my driveway, there was snow, a bunch of other stuff happened but I only want to remember him… SIGH.
Yes, sigh indeed. I actually remember that dream. It wasn’t exiting in any way but back then dreams and fantasies were pretty much the only things staving off my crippling loneliness. Real interactions certainly weren’t helpful.
School starts the 28th!
I don’t think this exclamation point was excitement so much as dread. Actually, I probably was excited to be starting at a new school, because there was room for hope. So even though it was a completely unnecessary move, I think it was a good thing for me to switch schools half way through my high school career. Even that short-lived hope probably helped me sleep at night throughout the summer.
I switched because my friend Jane wanted to and since (or so I thought) she was my only friend, I decided to go with her. Academically I justified it because the new school offered art in grade 10, while my old school didn’t. Looking back I sometimes wonder how things might have turned out differently if I hadn’t changed schools. I hated my first high school because I was lonely, but in retrospect I was well-liked and had people to sit with at lunch. At my new school I just tagged along with Jane, disliked her new friends, and felt even more awkward than ever. Honestly, in the end, it wouldn’t have mattered where I was because my environment wasn’t the problem, I was.
Ultimately switching schools was the right move because it forced my younger brother to then go to that school (it was easier on my parents to have both kids at the same place [my sister had moved on to college by then]), and he ended up making life-long friends there. So you’re welcome, Keith!
