I slept for eleven hours last night, and it felt amazing. I had really strange reminiscent dreams about Tyburn Academy and St. Hyacinth's and the CM High School cafeteria. In the dreams I was running down flights and flights of stairs at Tyburn Academy, when it used to be at St. Hyacinth's. I was with a bunch of girls that I knew from 9th grade at Tyburn, and we were all wearing our school uniforms. When we had gone down all the stairs, we were in the CM High School cafeteria. When I woke up, I missed Tyburn so much.

Even though I slept for eleven hours last night, I am incredibly exhausted right now. I'm preparing myself to get up and go to bed really soon. The nice thing about vacation is that I don't feel the least bit guilty for going to bed early.

Promise Ring makes me cry, Rufio makes me think, and Something Corporate makes me lonely.

So here I am in Massachusetts. With my crazy family. It's really fun! Sorta.

As we're driving here I am really tired and it's really windy and there is snow everywhere, and it really makes me feel kind of lonely. And I don't really know why, because I shouldn't be lonely at all. I mean, I felt as if I was really homesick or missing someone I loved, and I wouldn't be homesick on the way to my grandma's house with my family, and who could I be missing? And I get this really good idea for a song... sort of a saddish but sweet rock song with a piano part. It just makes me think... I haven't written anything halfway-decent in SUCH a long time. With the exception of my massive brainstorming sessions for the novel I'm aspiring to write, but will probably not get any farther than the planning stages. And that's because the brainstorming is the best part. I just completely clear my mind and make up a story-- mostly the dreams that I have for myself that I know will never come true. The stories I can make up fill me with this longing - but a peaceful longing - and nostalgia, of all things.

How could I be nostalgic about something I've never actually experienced? Okay, so nostalgia probably isn't the best word. But it's something sort of like nostalgia.

But anyways, back to the car ride and my song inspiration. I'm thinking of trying to actually write the song and put it to music. I want it to sound a little bit like dashboard, but not SO sad. Or maybe sadder. I haven't decided yet.

Wow, does high school ever suck.

I just thought I'd let those of you who actually spend/spent your teenage years having fun that not everyone has it so good. I mean, I don't especially mind the ultimate suckiness of high school, just because some day I am going to write bestselling books about this hellhole, CMHS, and the antagonists are going to be the all the jocks who think they are just NUMBER ONE, but who will, at the time of the publishing of my bestsellers, all be plumbers whose low reading level will not allow for them to actually read my bestsellers.

I mean, I'm sensing that I have a some unresolved "rage" issues here. Does anybody else get that feeling? Anyways...

I don't understand what people mean when they say that they don't care what other people think of them. The thing that confuses me even more is when these same people insult me or put me down. If they don't care what other people think of them, do they honestly expect me to care what they think of me? I mean, considering the politics of high school, wouldn't the worst insults come from the person who DID care what everyone thought, since this person would be weighing the not only their personal opinions but the opinions of "everyone else"? And wouldn't it generally be a high-school-population-approved insult since this person's image could be ruined by an insult that was not approved of? Since their image is important to them, they wouldn't throw out an insult that could ruin their image.

But the person who doesn't care about their image... they feel free to act in whatever way they want. Usually they're acting to the extremes just to prove how much they DON'T care. So is an insult from them really supposed to hurt?

....

Well, today sucked. Usually Fridays are good because... well, it's Friday. But... not today.

I don't really know what to say about it except that I want to devour at least 65 lbs of junk food right now and I wish, wish, wish I had a boyfriend, even if for only the most ridiculous reasons, like hugs and sweet little forehead kisses.

I'm starting to write for other people. I mean, I write in this journal... but I'll edit what I really want to say because I know who reads it, and I don't want to embarass myself. Sometimes I really disgust myself.

Why can't I just be the person I want to be without fear of alienation or embarassment? I've always hated "fake" people... and now, I'm just moving steadily closer to the superficiality I condemn. Unbelieveably, I'm almost afraid to post this entry. What if someone reads it and realizes I'm not as strong and independent as I strive to be? What if someone realizes that I am falling short of my goals? Ironically, falling short of other people's ideals doesn't bother me that much - somehow I feel that by rejecting their prototypical images of perfection, I am a stronger person. But admitting that I don't measure up to my OWN ideals - which are only to be different than the norm - makes me vulnerable. I'm NOT different. I'm weak and searching, just like the next person.

... just like the next person.

Christine's Top Ten Comfort Foods

10. Cold turkey subs with mayo and deli cheese
9. New England clam chowda with oyster crackers
8. Peanut butter on toasted bagels
7. Monterey Jack cheese
6. Raw cookie dough
5. Reese's pieces or peanut butter M&M's
4. Sausage sandwiches with lots of onions and some peppers, too - available exclusively at Fenway Park
3. Store-bought chocolate chip cookies - you know, the kind that come in a box - dipped in ice-cold milk
2. Hot fudge sundaes with extra hot fudge

and...

1. Charlie Brown ice cream

It has now been officially confirmed that Mark does not like me in "that way". But we're getting to be closer friends. Furthermore, he likes "someone else". I'm okay with this. I know that he can be happy with her. I say this with only the SLIGHTEST tinge of jealousy. I swear.