Just finished Valley of the Dolls–it was SO depressing. I…just… Ick. Ick is all I can say. So the philosophical lesson is that in order to not love a Taggart I’d have to be spun out on pills to inure myself to his flings. Oh my fucking god. Why does life have to be so cruel? God damn. But, on a high note, that Carrie girl was in here, she’s cool. She asked me if I was into knitting. I’m not, but I might join the group to get closer to her. She’s one of the coolest people I’ve known. Oh, maybe I could knit some armwarmers. That would be cool. Maybe I’ll go. If I pass my test tomorrow I’ll be able to go wherever I want. I go driving at four–in about a half hour. I’ll walk over at 3:45 and listen to music/read in the car for a while. The high school is on spring break, it’s so dead here. Ah, I might start Dickens’ A Tale of Two Cities! That might break my pattern of depressing books. I checked it out last week, I haven’t started on it yet. Well–I read the first two chapters last year (and I remember them, which is scary). I wanted to reread Brave New World today, but I didn’t have time. I have Nirvana stuck in my head. Maybe I’ll head on over to the Drift office and get my CD player and walk around the nature trail. That seems like a good plan. I devoted myself to finishing Freud’s The Future of an Illusion today, but I don’t really feel like it. I can do it when I get home. After all, Jordan isn’t coming over–well maybe he is. We should study. But in the interim even if he does come over I can probably finish it. I only have like thirty or forty pages left.
I have this gigantic bloody hangnail–it looks so grotesque. And my ear has been ringing all day for no reason. My hair has been falling out for months–I’m falling apart at the seams. Those three hours of reading Valley of the Dolls didn’t help either. But I wandered around and finally found myself at Molly’s office, she lent me two books, the literature book that we’ll be using in English 1B, and a book on popular culture with a chapter of essays on anti-intellectualism (how the government and media glorify stupidity). So life is cool. I want some orange juice, but I have no money. Perhaps I’ll go and take another drink out of the faucet.
> Nirvana - Something In The Way
I’m almost through with Valley of the Dolls and I am really really really really really depressed. I just want to have a good cry, but I’m at school. There’s no avoiding it. Lyon Burke is Taggart. I want to cry. Why does every good book have to be so profoundly depressing? GOD DAMN. Fuck everyone. All my friends are gone, I don’t have class for another hour and a half. I’m going to die. Stuck here for another hour and a half after class. There’s nothing to do except read this infernal book. I hate everything.
> Orgy - 107
I’m sitting here hibernating in the Drift office again. It’s 8:40. Let’s see–yesterday Jordan took his car into the shop, they gave him this quote for like $400, but Pat looked at it and said that he just needs new brake pads. Those fucks at Les Schwab try to screw everyone over. I burned Tawna a copy of Mechanical Animals, but it didn’t finish before I had to leave. I drove here this morning, that was kind of cool. I had Nirvana’s “Lithium” on repeat during the drive here. I think it annoyed my dad, but I kept reminiscing about this one day where Casey and me sat in the smoke box and sang a song to the tune of “Lithium” for like an hour and a half about whatever was going on. That was such a cool day. I think she was high, but it was cool anyway. I’ve been reading Valley of the Dolls today, that’s the reason I started this post. There is this very poignant passage I wanted to quote:
“Anne felt sad. People parted, years passed, they met again–and the meeting proved no reunion, offered no warm memores, only the acid knowledge that time had passed and things weren’t as bright or attractive as they had once been.”
How depressing. I wish there was more to say, but there isn’t. My stupid carpal tunnel crap has been acting up again, and I can’t write the people I care about e-mails. I only have fifty minutes left on my phone card, thanks to Mindy. Perhaps I’ll call Kelly when I get home today. I won’t have to bother with Jordan today, I hope I remember to call. I’m going driving today after my dad gets off of work at four. Since Jordan didn’t show up at the beauty school yesterday they left a message on his machine saying he’s skating on very thin ice. He doesn’t care. He told me a while ago that you have to be there every day or they kick you out, and now he’s saying they can go screw themselves. Ms. Vega hates him because he’s going out with me–he underestimates her zeal. They’ll kick him out of the school, then his parents will kick him out, then his goose will be cooked, so to speak. He’d have to get a job, apply for financial aid, and go to community college. I sincerely doubt he’d make it, but I’ve never been in a class with him. He studies diligently, so that’s one thing in his favor. Nine tenths of most grades are busy work. However, if he can’t write essays, do college-level research, or read books, he’s going to be out of luck when it comes to many classes, especially transfer-level English. Hm.
Valley of the Dolls is beckoning me as it sits right by the keyboard. I have a feeling from the snatches I’m reading as I glance at it that this part is going to be very poignant. More later.
