Monday ~ New Year's Eve

I could tell more or less what has happened lately ~ but for a few things it would be pretty boring. I didn't mention that I'd gone to the library ~ in the last four days or so I've read Flashman, Flash for Freedom, Beyond the Tomorrow Mountains, Rendezvous with Rama and took out also Gravity's Rainbow and The Tale of Genji. The R. with R. was a very good book. Arthur C. Clarke did it again.

As I predicted (it's a pity I didn't write it down somewhere so that people would believe me) the Vikings and the Dolphins are going to the Superbowl. I look forward to the game, I just hope GBYSO doesn't conflict with that.

That brings up the main event of interest lately. I called up Haynes and they agreed to overhaul my flute right away, since I told them about my concert and auditions. Driving home in the car without it I felt like I was lost, because for a long time that instrument has been my only interest. Of course I was also worried about the audition, and whether I'll have time to get used to the instrument again before the audition. J has agreed (Thank God!) to let me use her flute for a week while she works on some other project, and then I'll have to go on some kind of schedule with her, borrowing it for an hour and a half or so before I get mine back.

I wonder what it'll look like all shiny and new-looking again. I hope it doesn't tarnish up as quickly again. Mr. K once told me that they stay shiny longer when they've been polished a second time (although I don't see why). I'll try to take better care of it than I used to before I changed my mind about keep a web swab rag inside (!) the flute.

In a way I'd like to think of it as a new start. A clean fresh attack at the whole business. I sure hope it helps, although in the music department things have been going alot better than everywhere else. I don't want to go back to school. I have no purpose, no drive. I don't really have friends, I have friendly acquaintances. There is nothing that makes me eager to go back. My hope and energy are dead, except the faint flicker that perhaps in that deadness I'll find a new beginning. It does not strike me as too likely.

Perhaps I can make the whole thing as painless as possible by detaching myself slowly considering whatever feelings I may have built up in a different areas at school. Winding them up or withdrawing them so that I won't keep getting hurt. I'm tired of getting hurt. Maybe if I can inure myself enough so that I really don't care then it won't happen anymore. And that'll leave only one area to be hurt in ~ music, and I think I can take that. I have in the past anyway.

P writes in a letter that B- liked me. I could tell . Now explain to me why I can't run into someone unattached and a little more my own age? If T can find someone who likes her the way she is (and she's not the world's most ordinary person, either) why can't I? Hm? Of course there is no answer. I may spend my entire live and never know.

I fixed up Daddy's Montblanc ($49) pen for him and he won't use it. I find that a wee bit annoying. Such a good pen should not go to waste. The only thing is, I don't want it (it's too fat and expensive for me) because I like this one. My trusty Rapidograph No. 2 with the sienna ink. It's slim and trim and I'm used to writing with it.

I just ordered a fantastic music stand and carrying case and that is good. Another thing to be done that can be checked off my Red Pad. The most important thing I still have to do is with that damned L'étranger paper, and it's the last thing in the world I want to do right now. I would give anything to have a decent excuse not to do it. Of course it's due on the fateful Wednesday. Another horrid thought strikes me ~ were we supposed to have read another Bible assignment? If so I am sure sunk, for I haven't looked it over to grasp the main concepts, although I did read it, late last night (one or two) for some ungodly reason.

I am going to start the new year off right by doing all the things I want to do each day. I will meditate twice, practice 2 hrs at least and be helpful and courteous all day if I can stand it (doubtful). I will also do some exercises, methinks. I occurs to me that on Tuesday I may be able to get all my homework and practicing done in the afternoon and that I could go to Mom's yoga class. Problem: Mom may not be going to yoga classes anymore if it is too far away and uses up to much gas in the car.

All in all I feel that the "energy crisis" is a good thing. It's about time that people realized that our resources are not going to last for ever. I only hope that we don't the good things along with the bad an dthe luxurious, and the unnecessary. Pollution controls for instance, and other such vital ecological measures. I hope we don't lose communication of the arts and between countries. I hope we do lose the automobile, big cities as we know them, and so on and on. We could benefit greatly from this situation. We could also suffer drastically.

In a way I do like the house colder. Then the things that are warm are appreciated more. I haven't used my electric heater in weeks, but I revel in the warmth of my bed. Things like that. I feel healthier when it's cooler. It would be easier for people to adjust to all this if we were cold-blooded. But despite the fact that it distresses my father I don't mind my cold hands and feet. Although I like certain luxurious things, I also like alot of things that aren't, or are the opposite. I don't see why some day we couldn't have simple but culturally rich lives, and a technology to support that. I wish Mom would turn down her radio, it's positively blasting and the music although nice is distorted and sounds terrible. I'm going to go fix it.

Tuesday, January 1, 1974 ~ New Year's Day

Last night just before midnight while washing the dishes I had an idea for a short story. It was about someone home alone new year's eve who decides to commit suicide. They leave a note that explains why they cannot face the new year, and describing that they will kills themselves at exactly midnight. The body and note are found by relatives coming home later at night. The clock by which the person killed themself was five minutes past. (I used "them" because I don't know whether it is to be a man or a woman.)

I still haven't written that damned paper yet. I will absolutely have to. But I really don't want to, because more than anything, that is admitting that I really do have to go back to school tomorrow. The thought scares me. I really don't want to go back to school at all. But it is my duty.

J2 called and related to me the latest traumas in her life (well at least she's having excitement). She went up to AH last wkend. She says that while she and J- were drunk she did "everything but one." That may be a vague hyperbole. Also it seems E was in a very bad way when she was drunk. She had better be careful.

I have to decide whether or not I'm going to AH again this summer. What about some place like G, where AL went? I've heard alot of good things about it. Then again I think I'd be scared to go someplace where I didn't know anyone at all. I really am a chicken about lots of things, although every now and then events set off my brave streak. That's pretty rare though, and all in all I'm quite a coward. That's pretty sad.

Mom seems to be doing her best to find out what's wrong with me, and although I appreciate her concern, I wish she wouldn't keep asking me those things. If I plan to confide (if that's possible) to her or anyone else then I'll just do it, I won't be pried into it. But I really haven't got anything constructive to tell anyone.

I've decided that I'm not too wild about J's flute. It can be very loud (perhaps because of its length) but it isn't very flexible. It doesn't sound as good when it's soft. I like mine better I guess, even though it doesn't have as much power. It will probably perform better when it's been overhauled. I really miss it though. Practicing on J's flute just isn't as satisfying. I can't feel like I've practiced.

As usual all the radios in the house are blasting away at high volume. I shut my door to block them out. I see no real pt to listening to someone's voice droning away about some uninteresting topic. Good music at the appropriate level, yes.

I have started reading The Tale of Genji am already at 109/1135 (gag!). I expected it to be dull or convoluted, but on the contrary it's quite absorbing and the plotting is not overly complicated. I only wonder how much of it I'll be able to read before I have to start writing the paper about it. What will be the main subject of the paper? The literary style? The content? God knows. I shall have to come up with something, won't I?

Were we supposed to have read Some Prefer Nettles by now? I have the funny feeling we were and I haven't finished it yet. I read some of it in November or October. I remember the general drift of the story, but not alot of the details. Hell, what a drag. Je dois faire quelque chose alors, mais quoi. Je sais que ma grammaire est probablement descendu pendant les vacances. Oh sheet. Ou plusieurs milles fois merde. Je fais des dessins parceque je ne vois pas rien d'autre put m'amuser. Faux, faux! C'est une mensonge. Tout est une mensonge, le monde, la vie, mon amour, mes amies, des gens, etcetera. Est-ce que ça vous ennuiez? J'espère que oui. Nasty, eh what? I hate the telephone because I hope for calls from no one and yet my heart leaps each time, with hopes that it may be the voice of someone who I've not thought of asking for me. Très pathétique, n'est-ce pas?

I wonder what T did for her New Year's Eve. No doubt she went (I'm running out of ink I think) to that Palfrey Street party (maybe I'm not). I hope she enjoyed herself more than I did. I could never go to one of those parties. The drug thing is not my thing. At least T doesn't smoke cigarettes, foul habit. There's absolutely nothing that smells quite yucky-way as dead ciggie butts moldering in an ashtray which hasn't been emptied for too long. (I remember I dreamt last night that Mom was smoking.)

I'd like someone to analyse my handwriting, just to hear all the wrong or funny things they'd say about me. Something like because it leans forward I'm an optimist or something to that effect.

The only reason I'm at all glad to be getting back to school is that because if I'm numb with running around busy as hell and working my ass off perhaps I won't have time to think about the superficial things that are bothering me. I won't have the time or volition to be distracted by the emptiness inside if I concentrate on a very full life on the outside. I'd even make a bet with anyone who care to that no one will notice. Let's see if I can put up such a good front that no one can tell. Of course I wouldn't mind a little sympathy (pity is demeaning or condescending or unhealthy) or a little attention of some other kind. But after expecting it someday for so long, perhaps now I'll get wise and give up. Let the world come to me. I'm sick and tired of chasing it. And trying and trying. I won't do it anymore. I won't. (Do you believe this? I wonder if I do. Do I enjoy lying to myself, even when there's no one else to hear? Pretty sad.) At least my handwriting looks good. Smile, kid.

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