October 10, 1991

Thursday – I know I haven’t written in a really long time but hey.

                                      Usually when there are really long gaps in my journaling it’s because I’m too happy to write. I tend to only journal when I’m upset or depressed. But I doubt happiness is the reason for this particular gap.

Well, I like BHS a lot more than St-T, but there are still problems. Where to begin… I’m not popular and I will probably never have a boyfriend.

                                  Self-pity: check.

I entered an art contest and am doing a painting entitled Self Discovery.

                                Oh god, that sounds pretentious. I don’t remember that painting and let’s all be grateful for that.

I tried to be on the newspaper at school, but I missed the major meeting because I went on an art field trip and couldn’t make it, so I don’t know.

                            Interesting that I colour the truth even when writing to myself. I vividly remember the reason I missed that newspaper meeting and it wasn’t because of the art field trip. There was in fact a trip, that I did in fact attend, but it ended in plenty of time for me to make it back to school. I took the bus back, but because I’d never ridden public transportation before I didn’t know you have to ring the bell to be let off. I just kept waiting for the bus to stop, which it never did, and went way, WAY past the required bus stop. Eventually I realized that I’d missed the stop but by then I was paralyzed by anxiety, and too shy to ask the bus driver for help. I figured not being part of the school paper was a fitting punishment for this failure at correctly living life.

I’m failing math. There are extra things after school on Thursdays but I couldn’t go because of the painting. Mr. Math Teacher asked me if I could get help during other classes, but I don’t want to fall behind those either. So he called my house and now my mom is pressing me to stay after school but I don’t want to spend more time at school than necessary! The thing is I probably would have stayed once the contest was over and I could spare the time but I’m too stubborn to do that because I don’t want mom or Mr. M to think they influenced me. I want to do well on my own, but I just don’t understand math… SIGH.

                      Bullshit. I think I was failing math simply because it required the least bit of effort. I’m sure I could have done fine if I’d just tried. My proof for this is that I’d managed to do well in the past. At that age almost all schoolwork came easily to me so if something was even slightly difficult I just didn’t bother. Laziness born of melancholy I imagine. 

One night I had a dream about the show Beverly Hills 90210 (it’s a show that is really popular, but we don’t get it here). I wanted to see that show so bad that I dreampt I saw it. In the dream I met Jason Priestley (the star of 90210) and we were going out and stuff. Now I am obsessed with him. In a weird way I think I love him. Not in a fan way, I don’t have a bunch of pictures of him all over, I don’t swoon over his face (in fact I keep forgetting what he looks like) but it’s just a feeling deep inside. All the interviews and stuff I read about him, I don’t like his personality (a smoker and stuff) but I guess you can’t control your feelings. I’m hoping that if I win the contest (300$ prize) I will have confidence and stuff and will forget about him.

                      Wow. Thankfully that particular infatuation didn’t last long. I have no recollection of ever being into Jason freaking Priestley! Ugh.

I guess everything leads down to that stupid contest. (I also failed a history test because of lack of study time).

                        Why was I so obsessed with this art contest? I can’t for the life of me remember a single thing about it. I have to assume I was lying to myself in these diary entries, trying to blame my failures on something concrete, rather than on my more nebulous inability to take personal responsibility.

Oh well, life sucks. I wish I were more independent. If things don’t get handed to me easy I guess I’ll have to die young.

                           Lol. That’s some refreshing self-awareness there. Good thing I eventually got my shit together. Now people sometimes criticize me for being TOO independent!

P.S. I love M&R class. Mr. Taffenden is the coolest teacher.

                          M&R stands for Education Morale et Religieuse, also known as EMR, also known as MRE (Moral and Religious Education). It’s the class non-religious kids took back in the day when the Christians were taking Christianity. Is that still a thing? 

P.P.S. I cut my hair.

                            It’s now long again. I have come full circle 😉

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