primary entry?
However long this lasts, (it could be months or years, it could be days) I want it to count for something. I haven't 'blogged' in so long... it's nothing like riding a bike, I can't remember how to do so effectively.
Senior year is upon me (in less than a month, but I have a chunk of summer left, thank God) and I have made a transformation so unique and sincere that I don't quite know what to do with myself. The change is subtle to the naked eye, but my hope is that those who are close to me have witnessed it. YTI, my summer program, turned my world upside down. The shame lies in the fact that it's impossible to describe YTI to anyone. The only way I can adequately give someone an idea is to say "it was amazing."
I think the pivotal moment for me was in the first vespers service on Sunday of week one. I sat there thinking of all that I had left at home, overwhelmed by what I was missing, who I was missing, and what lay before me. We were given time to meditate and pray as needed and the freedom to leave whenever we wanted. I stayed there an hour in deep thought about what brought me to this place in Atlanta, GA. I hate the South. I hate hot weather. I hate conservatism. I hate so much that allies itself with Georgia, yet I was here because Rhonda recommended it, and I remembered how much I trusted Rhonda's judgment, so it made it okay.
"The best month of my life," is how I later described it (and still do). I'm still doubting that I actually experienced everything that the sensible part of me knows I did. When I returned home, I expected things to change, and a little bit did. We got a Moe's Southwestern Grill. I was thoroughly pleased. My mom has started another mess of a project that will never be completed and will only make the neighborhood hate us more. The Wawa on Forest Hill Avenue opened. My friends were the same. Amy and Mary Page had a wonderful time in France; they saw Mr. Bean on the street. I felt different, and I've adjusted accordingly so, and I'm happy.
The apprehension I'm feeling right now, though, is far beyond just starting senior year. It's about completing senior year, saying goodbye to the people that two months ago I would have sworn I was 'ready to say my farewells to,' the people who made me who I was when I went to YTI, and still make me the person I am now that I'm back. I still think about how lucky I am to have gone to ARGS. At James River High, I would have suffocated from the heavy concentration of Hollister clothing and Chanel perfumes. I would've wanted to be popular with the wrong people, and I would have spent the entirity of my high school experience feeling the insecurity that I had in middle school and so readily relived when I went to Monacan High for SAT's in May. At ARGS, I can walk around in flannel penguin pajamas and a t-shirt that says "The Vagina Monologues" and no one will question my motives. I can even go barefoot, if I steer clear of the right faculty members. I can start a club, join a club, head a club, be a club. I can bake cookies and bring them to school just because I want to, and no one will get on my case about 'sharing food' due to food allergies and ridiculous shit like that. I can skip class and get away with it. I can have a real friendship with my teachers, as opposed to a formal requirement to say hello and goodbye every day. I can joke and make fun of people, knowing that they understand. And had I gone to James River, my life would have been much... oranger (we all love those Oompa Loompas who fake and bake every other day). I would have had a football team to root for, but in all honesty, I'm perfectly happy with our B Division co-ed soccer team.
And now I'm going to be a senior, and I reign supreme. I looked up to the seniors so much in the past, and now I'm going to have little me's looking up to me in the way that I idolized the classes before me. It's not that I'm looking forward to having carpets unrolled when I enter a hallway, but that I'm looking forward to knowing that the sophomore over there was saying the things I used to say about those elders I admired so much. It's a lot to live up to, but I can screw up a lot and have them not notice.
This was so scattered. I need my Ritalin. I'm bored of writing.
Senior year is upon me (in less than a month, but I have a chunk of summer left, thank God) and I have made a transformation so unique and sincere that I don't quite know what to do with myself. The change is subtle to the naked eye, but my hope is that those who are close to me have witnessed it. YTI, my summer program, turned my world upside down. The shame lies in the fact that it's impossible to describe YTI to anyone. The only way I can adequately give someone an idea is to say "it was amazing."
I think the pivotal moment for me was in the first vespers service on Sunday of week one. I sat there thinking of all that I had left at home, overwhelmed by what I was missing, who I was missing, and what lay before me. We were given time to meditate and pray as needed and the freedom to leave whenever we wanted. I stayed there an hour in deep thought about what brought me to this place in Atlanta, GA. I hate the South. I hate hot weather. I hate conservatism. I hate so much that allies itself with Georgia, yet I was here because Rhonda recommended it, and I remembered how much I trusted Rhonda's judgment, so it made it okay.
"The best month of my life," is how I later described it (and still do). I'm still doubting that I actually experienced everything that the sensible part of me knows I did. When I returned home, I expected things to change, and a little bit did. We got a Moe's Southwestern Grill. I was thoroughly pleased. My mom has started another mess of a project that will never be completed and will only make the neighborhood hate us more. The Wawa on Forest Hill Avenue opened. My friends were the same. Amy and Mary Page had a wonderful time in France; they saw Mr. Bean on the street. I felt different, and I've adjusted accordingly so, and I'm happy.
The apprehension I'm feeling right now, though, is far beyond just starting senior year. It's about completing senior year, saying goodbye to the people that two months ago I would have sworn I was 'ready to say my farewells to,' the people who made me who I was when I went to YTI, and still make me the person I am now that I'm back. I still think about how lucky I am to have gone to ARGS. At James River High, I would have suffocated from the heavy concentration of Hollister clothing and Chanel perfumes. I would've wanted to be popular with the wrong people, and I would have spent the entirity of my high school experience feeling the insecurity that I had in middle school and so readily relived when I went to Monacan High for SAT's in May. At ARGS, I can walk around in flannel penguin pajamas and a t-shirt that says "The Vagina Monologues" and no one will question my motives. I can even go barefoot, if I steer clear of the right faculty members. I can start a club, join a club, head a club, be a club. I can bake cookies and bring them to school just because I want to, and no one will get on my case about 'sharing food' due to food allergies and ridiculous shit like that. I can skip class and get away with it. I can have a real friendship with my teachers, as opposed to a formal requirement to say hello and goodbye every day. I can joke and make fun of people, knowing that they understand. And had I gone to James River, my life would have been much... oranger (we all love those Oompa Loompas who fake and bake every other day). I would have had a football team to root for, but in all honesty, I'm perfectly happy with our B Division co-ed soccer team.
And now I'm going to be a senior, and I reign supreme. I looked up to the seniors so much in the past, and now I'm going to have little me's looking up to me in the way that I idolized the classes before me. It's not that I'm looking forward to having carpets unrolled when I enter a hallway, but that I'm looking forward to knowing that the sophomore over there was saying the things I used to say about those elders I admired so much. It's a lot to live up to, but I can screw up a lot and have them not notice.
This was so scattered. I need my Ritalin. I'm bored of writing.
posted by Rebecca at 10:41 PM
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