|The Logs and Musings of the Weary
||[Feb. 1st, 2006|05:31 am]
|||||Philip Glass's "Glassworks"||]|
In all honesty, this is probably the most socially active I've been in the last two years or so.
In other words, an interval in my usual loserness.
Now don't get me wrong. I do not use the term 'loser' as a derogatory one. But if people are going to classify and categorize other people, I would rather classify myself as a loser. This is something that I've thought on for a while now, and being a loser seems to make the most sense. Throughout the past five years, or thereabouts, I've drifted the social spectrum from somewhat popular (even preppy in some regards, although this would be getting back into the middle of elementary, when I was blissfully unaware of how society segments its population), to gangster, to punk, to loner, to slacker, to nerd, to intellectual, to probably a bunch of other classifications if I actually took the time to think about it, but that wouldn't really accomplish anything aside from taking bits and pieces of personality and experience and setting them inside of a tidy, organized filing system. But rather than trying to let one part of my personality hold dominance over the other parts by choosing one subculture and adopting it completely, if I just decide to be a loser, then I am better able to just be who I am. Aside from all the negativity associated with it, loser is essentially the subculture that all of the random, indistinct attributes of a person are tossed into. A category for the boring, for the weird, for those that are typically uncategorized. Besides, I have lost (or am at least failing at) many aspects of the fascinating game that life has turned into: in some areas, my schoolwork is a mess, I routinely display my ineptitude at understanding or responding to things (primarily social), and, in posting my thoughts and monologues like this, I have lost at discretion, as well. But if I went on talking about all of the negative things about myself, this would quickly go from observation and contemplation to flat-out bitching, which is something I'd rather attempt to avoid. Overall, I guess I consider 'loser' to be a free-form, indiscriminate concept; the 'miscellaneous' section of the social structure, which is why I do not see the term as a strictly pejorative one, and thus do not mind being described as such.
Of course, it isn't as though I am trying to avoid using pejoratives to describe myself. But as I have said in the above rabble, pointing out my faults will accomplish little, other than making this post even longer than it is turning out to be. ^_~
For the sake of convenience, my little social renaissance (embellishment, although making me feel like a bit of a prick, does wonders for hyperbole application) shall be divided int two sections: eateries and residences.
Eateries are an absolute joy to visit. An abundance of all sorts of wonderful, fantastic, delicious food! One such visit was at Red Robins. This was enjoyable for many reasons: it was something I was invited to (pardon me for being as giddy as a schoolgirl about what would otherwise be a minute detail, but when you've spent the last couple years with your social interaction limited to 10-15 people tops and an assortment of arachnids, these sort of things are exciting), Markie-sempai works there, and the fact that I haven't had a mushroom burger in an overly long time (it was juicier/drippier than I remember, though O.o). There was much talking, and meeting of people, and crayon drawings, and balloons, and other assorted silliness. Afterwards, some went to Target, where the toys were, in some instances, sort of creepy. The night ended around ten, and there was significantly less coffee than other times riding with Brandon-kun. In another instance, after getting out of detention (as to what I was serving it for, I am not quite sure...), there was a journey up to Arby's, where I, lacking the portrait of Abraham Lincoln I thought I had brought with me, shamelessly mooched off of Kayla's $20 of mysterious origin. I had forgotten how good their chicken was, although the mozzarella sticks were more troublesome to eat than one might expect (I ended up with cheese suspended between my hand and my mouth and an empty breadcrust shell -_-;; ). No gigantic, spiraling curly fries this time, though...
Birthday parties are likewise a joy to visit. It is like being locked in a basement for a few hours with a group of moderately-sane people and foodstuffs. The first of the two birthday parties that I attended was the more insane of the two. Two major rooms, a steady stream of people (20-25 or something like that), and bowls of candy, part of which were consumed, and part of which were used as ammunition in a small-scale food quarrel. There was dancing, which I was dragged into on a few occasions (some instances more... friendly than others -#-;; ), and there was much music made with guitars (including a two-stringed guitar), an accordion, and a tiny piano. The general atmosphere was very... interpersonal, and there was additional people-meeting taking place. Loosening up was probably most successful at this party, for I get more towards the extremes of social discretion when I lack adequate (or any, for that matter) rest (in that I am either very much involved or are very much introverted). This was what took place on this particular weekend. I went to the first party with less-than-decent rest (a couple of hours the night before, with no sleep the night before that), but there was an Academic Decathlon competition that following morning, so I spent much of that night attempting to study, until eventually I passed out at some point. Overall sleep this night: 1-2 hours tops. The competition went alright, but a peculiar incident took place: before lunch, tired as I was, I did alright on my testing. But during lunch, I decided to have a cup of coffee, which I drank while standing outside of the room with the other Varsities, waiting to be let in. I started off alright; the effects of the coffee weren't terribly noticeable. But during my Economics test, I began to space out; I would stare at a question, trying to read it for a minute or so, but it just felt so bloody difficult to concentrate. I think I may have even drifted into another state of consciousness at one point, which is not good to do on a timed test; I almost didn't finish on time. I am not sure if, because of my fatigue, the coffee had a stronger psychoactive effect on me, or if the aftereffects of the caffeine were much more pronounced due to being fatigued, but never in my drinking of it has coffee acted as a sedative (nor should it, medically speaking). I struggled with the next couple of tests. I believe we placed third overall, but it apparently wasn't enough to go to Nationals. So, as I was riding home, preparing to relax and have a nice, quiet dinner, I noticed that there was a new voicemail on my phone. Upon checking it, it was Sheena, inquiring as to when I would be arriving at the party. "The party? What in hell..."; and then it hit me like a goddamned baseball bat. So, instead of my relaxing evening and all that, I grabbed a quick bite to eat and sped off to the party that I had nearly forgotten about. This party was the saner of the two. The basement was smaller, there were more decorations, and there were cupcakes. ^___^ Unlike the former celebration, this was to be a surprise party. Needless to say, our unknowing hostess was indeed surprised. Various happenings included assisting in the piercing of an ear, karaoke (of which I, unlike my less-than-skillful dancing of the previous night, did not participate in), and an unexpected wrestling match (neither of us won, for Liz, fearing that her grandmother (who is apparently a strict Catholic) would happen to come downstairs and see what looked like, if you were not aware that it was wrestling, blatantly yaoi positions, stopped the match). The lack of sufficient rest was noticeable to me as the night went on, mainly through one of the symptoms: rapid emotional changes. At one time, I would be filled with happiness, feeling as though I were part of the group, but at another time, I felt so distant and lonely that I could feel the increased tear stimulation in my eyes. It shifted around like this for a while; as the night wore on, I became more comfortable, though, if only to an extent. This gradual acceptance reached its peak after most of those in attendance had left. Those of us left, few enough to occupy one couch between us, had a pleasant chat, which I enjoyed more than most other events of the evening. I then left; this would have been a good stopping point, but I had accidentally left my hoodie there. Upon returning, I, not thinking in an entirely rational manner, embarrassed myself to no end by, in my carelessness, attempting to pick Sheena up (it is a difficult series of events to explain...) without considering my hand placement, which resulted in most disastrous consequences (i.e. me dropping Sheena). -___-;;;;;;; After thoroughly filling myself with dishonor and shame, I finally left. Since I was at the pinnacle of my exhaustion by this time, I slept in. This would have been fine, except that I needed to get up and go work on an English project with Marissa. After sleeping through my alarm multiple times, I finally ended up over there sometime after nightfall. We worked/ate cookies, making notable progress on both tasks, ending up with a 93% on the project (not a bad start to the semester, comparatively...). And that, my now-bored readers, is the tale of my enriching, yet unintentionally self-destructive weekend.
Been having strange moments of lucidity on the few occasions that I've spaced out in class (last week was pretty bad spacing-wise, for some reason). From driving with my father in our old van to a somehow familiar Indian sacred site, to, just this morning, realizing that I was unconscious and, knowing that I had to get up for school and that my mother would be pissed off if she came back downstairs (as I was sleeping on the couch) and found me dozing off, proceeding to "run" back and forth to try and wake myself up; it is humorous, for I was so glad that I was finally awake, reasoning as such that, when I patted the dog on the head as I ran by her, she did not morph into some other creature (as she sat on the couch that we no longer own, heh). I realized that I was unconscious when, while in the bathroom for an unknown reason, feeling the light switch (it was partially dark) and noticing that the switch was sideways; upon flicking the switch and hearing the toilet flush, I exclaimed something like, "Damn it, she's trying to trick me!" (whoever 'she' was...) and tried to wake up, with the unusual consequences that I've described. Another was in Biology, when, after spacing out, noticed that I was inside of a basement, which turned into a garage, in which myself and some other people began to drive somewhere or another. I find the feeling of reality in them to be fascinating, and I anticipate more of these quirky happenings (although preferably not in the middle of class ^_^;; ).
Even if you'd rather not read all of it, I still appreciate your having been here, if only briefly. ^_^