The past couple of weeks, summarized:
- Insomnia. I’m fucked up. Somehow my circadian rhythm has been thrown off. I would get home, sleep, wake up a couple of hours later, and proceed to deal with the Day’s shit, repeating the cycle once I got home. A large portion of my “budget” went to Monster energy drinks. Yum.
- Tyi. Things have been rocky, but at this point, I think we’re cool. Am I over him? We’ll see. I just feel real chill about it…I miss my friend.
Hm. That didn’t take as long as I thought. I suppose those were the more complicated topics that would have required explanation which I don’t feel like giving. Moving on…
Sick of the routine I’ve fallen into, I decided to mix things up a bit one morning and catch the Metrolink to school. Really, it’s more me waking up even earlier, walking to Kingshighway, catching that bus to the Central West End station, then the Metrolink to Grand, followed by the Sarah bus to, of all places, Metro. Because those little student passes aren’t good before 6am, this comes out of my pocket—I see it becoming an expensive habit pretty soon. But that’s OK, because for that minute-long ride, I feel a little bit more like I’m here.
I’ve also realized what kind of photographer am I if I don’t graph photos? As cumbersome as it may be, I’m beginning to take my adopted camera with me everywhere. This is great for two reasons: 1) I can stop bitching about how great that photo would’ve been and 2) it gives me much-needed experience with film. I started to photograph at the CWE station one recent day, but was stopped by some lady who said photography without permission is prohibited. I asked her from whom I should obtain permission and she told me to contact the communications office. After getting to school, I was still upset about it so I did. I corresponded with a couple of people by e-mail who gave me the run around, so I just decided to fuck permission and shoot anyway. I haven’t yet, but I will. It’s interesting though, because this happened just as I began to question such anti-photography policies.
Adjudication was this past Thursday. We did OK, got a rating of I, which surprised the hell out of my because Soldan sounded amazing and I didn’t think our shit was all together. Enough of that, let’s talk about them damn tuxedos, or Pilgrim Pride as Marquita calls it. Yeah, so I had to endure a couple of hours of being in a hot auditorium, all while wearing too tight shoes that I stole from Ramos for the occasion, too skeet pants, a blazer that was twice my size, and showcasing my ailing hair for the world to see. I’ve never felt more self-conscious in my life. I tried to comfort myself in figuring that these people could give a damn, I don’t even know them and I’ll never see them again. That went fine and dandy until it was all over, the place began to clear out, and a couple of people I played in band in middle school with came over, surprised to see me and what have you. I wanted to die.
I started my spring break early by not going to IB Math. Quite honestly, half the school was in Columbia for the Lady Panthers’ final four game, so nobody was in class to begin with. The girls won, as they did state. Pardon the lack of enthusiasm, I just planned on being there when they did. I’m not one for school spirit (really, if you know me, you know how much I hate that place), but hearing about them kick as much ass as they did got me all tingly inside. Not really.
Friday I ran a lot of errands. Well, start over. Thursday evening I went to sleep around 4 and didn’t wake up for another 12 hours. It was very refreshing and much needed, which is probably an understatement. I left the house around 10 that morning so I could get my grades from school. From there I caught the Lindell downtown to Central library, so I could pick up Susan Sontag’s On Photography. I lost my guitar pick and since I’d like to play more over break, I figured I could use some. The nearest music store I could think of was in the Loop, so I walked two blocks over to Washington and caught the Delmar west. After I got my picks, I headed back home. Yeah, didn’t get back until 2 in the afternoon.
It was also Jewell’s birthday! Um, yeah. I was supposed to meet with her and Sarah later that evening at the Cartel. We saw RENT, which as much as I hate to say it, wasn’t as amazing as I thought it would be. Don’t get me wrong, I loved it dearly, but there was something about it that irks me, something I just can’t piece together. Angel and Collins were too cute. If I saw correctly, they both had dreads, and I love them for it.
Afterward, we caught a couple of buses back to her new apartment where Sarah and I stayed the night. Normally down for whatever, I was too tired and quickly fell asleep. The one time I’m allowed to stay over after wanting to for so long, I effin’ fall asleep! More from me on that part of the night later.
For now, I leave you with only a question: if your life were a movie, what would be on its soundtrack?