entertainment!!!!!!!!
So I was convinced that I wouldn’t devolved into Emily Whalen mode when writing in this livejournal partly out of guilt for having one and partly because my dad seems to think that one day all of these random entries are going to be collected and sold as a boxed set or something. And that I wont make any money off of it. ………….
I started The Bell Jar today down at the pool when it randomly started sunshowering and the pack of kids that hang around the pool drifted off somewhere. Its something that I’m embarrassed to say that I’m reading for school because I feel like its one of those books that I should have picked up unprompted over the past year, if just because its one of those coming-of-age novels that everyone between the ages of 15 and 18 is supposed to be magically drawn to because of its cutting clarity. And I didn’t want to go into it thinking, This is going to be depressing just because everyone who has read it says it is, but halfway through I am really finding it hard to get through just because it is so disheartening, like being beaten with a stick for the sake of art.
I was going to say something about reading Andy’s diaries and how fucking boring my life is, but then I would have sounded like an ingrate. After a while all of the parties and shows and dinners seemed to blend together too. Now Ive said it. Fuck me.
AJ sort of asked me if I wanted to hang out with his little group today, and Meghan k. answered for me but I don’t know whether out of an apprehension to hang out with me or a respect for the fact that I don’t have an affinity for getting plastered and driving home to confront my parents while plastered. I think I just come across as a prude to all of them. Like AJ asks me all these retarded questions like I’m a prepubescent nerd who just discovered masturbation and Russell treats me like….hes my boss. Which he is. How dare he. But they all hang around together and get drunk and have capital Fun and I have this latent desire to be part of that, but at some point it seems like every word that comes out of their mouths is just noise about some girl or party or drink and never anything else. We’re going to breakfast on Friday. Maybe I can pretend to be cool and like them and then go home and pout about it. Sounds like a plan.
I doubt that I will ever write in this again. Farewell.
I started The Bell Jar today down at the pool when it randomly started sunshowering and the pack of kids that hang around the pool drifted off somewhere. Its something that I’m embarrassed to say that I’m reading for school because I feel like its one of those books that I should have picked up unprompted over the past year, if just because its one of those coming-of-age novels that everyone between the ages of 15 and 18 is supposed to be magically drawn to because of its cutting clarity. And I didn’t want to go into it thinking, This is going to be depressing just because everyone who has read it says it is, but halfway through I am really finding it hard to get through just because it is so disheartening, like being beaten with a stick for the sake of art.
I was going to say something about reading Andy’s diaries and how fucking boring my life is, but then I would have sounded like an ingrate. After a while all of the parties and shows and dinners seemed to blend together too. Now Ive said it. Fuck me.
AJ sort of asked me if I wanted to hang out with his little group today, and Meghan k. answered for me but I don’t know whether out of an apprehension to hang out with me or a respect for the fact that I don’t have an affinity for getting plastered and driving home to confront my parents while plastered. I think I just come across as a prude to all of them. Like AJ asks me all these retarded questions like I’m a prepubescent nerd who just discovered masturbation and Russell treats me like….hes my boss. Which he is. How dare he. But they all hang around together and get drunk and have capital Fun and I have this latent desire to be part of that, but at some point it seems like every word that comes out of their mouths is just noise about some girl or party or drink and never anything else. We’re going to breakfast on Friday. Maybe I can pretend to be cool and like them and then go home and pout about it. Sounds like a plan.
I doubt that I will ever write in this again. Farewell.