backyard crowing


a funk

If I had a favorite place in my life, it would be Mont St. Michel, in France.

But that's more for the gorgeous castlescape, the lighter than air weather, and the people's French, slowly leaking out as if to say, "Of course this is our language. We're more than human." I can remember singing there and not caring who heard. At one point, I hummed a song I had learned in French class, and after I stopped, a little boy walked past and continued the tune. No wonder people love children.

I have spent less than a day at Mont St. Michel, so do I have a right to love it most?

As for places where I have spent considerable time, I say Barnes and Noble is my favorite. Last summer, the bookstore was my escape from my mother, just as the libraries and books provided refuge when I was in elementary school. I only bought one book that summer, but they let me sit on their couches every day for hours on end. Mom was probably offended that I did not spend more time with her, but who would want to?

I don't want to call her at all. I feel that she will either yell and make me feel ten times worse than I already do, or she will serve as a confidence booster. It seems there's no real way to know what she thinks of me, or how she'll react in any given situation. Sometimes her head pops off, sometimes she's cool whip.

I think what I'm most afraid of is her tearing me down, and telling me that I can't make it, and that she'll disown me if I break away from her.

Meanwhile I'm angry at my father for the right and wrong reasons, worrying away the hours, and wondering what normal is.

I sense that my fears are rubbing off on the people around me. I don't know that I'm a good person for Ray, or anyone, to talk to about problems. I've got so many issues of my own; it's difficult to think about theirs and find a way to care about everything.

I believe I need someone to talk to about all of this. I talked to Ray, Anya, and Dad. Heck, I even chatted with Jeff about the situation a few times. They're probably sick of me by now, and they didn't really help, much as they might have wanted to.

What is with me? Why am I suddenly so depressed? Maybe I should go to church or something. I'm going through an awful lot right now. I'm exhausted. I am mentally strained. I need a hug or to sleep for hours on end without interruption. Maybe.

I don't particularly know what will help, but I'm willing to try anything.

Last night I had a dream that took place during high school, only it wasn't the high school I attended. I was in science class, and we had class in a portable about the size of a small mobile home. Inside this tiny room were a few plants, and only five students or so could enter this lab at once. Instead of a long lab lasting the whole period, each group of five spent 10 minutes doing their work, and then spent the remaining 40 sitting around outside, not learning anything. The lab lasted 5 class days, and on the 5th class day, I decided to skip to have a beer with a couple of other students off campus. My lab group of course noticed my lack of presence, and according to them, that last day was the most involved, and I should not have skipped. Fortunately, some of the group had kept instructions, so I could catch up. That's all I remember.

I want to call mom, but at the same time, that's the last thing I want to do. I don't want to tell her I might not be accepted if I don't have a backup plan of where and how and when to get a loan. She will doubt me otherwise. She doubts me anyhow.

I think I need some uplifting music to get me out of this funk. Ray's in a funk, too. I guess he's one of those friends who are "there for a reason," as Abby puts it.

7:05 pm - Tuesday, Dec. 12, 2006


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