chrifu

My english teacher isn't that dumb.

Although she's kind of rude.

Mayby she's just getting frustrated?

I tried to make it easier by speaking up, but I felt like she treated my answer like it was wrong. You're the wrong one, lady. Luckily, two classmates supported me. I thought that was nice.

I'm right though. The speaker in Frost's 'Mending Wall' isn't looking to change the tradition of the reparing the wall each spring. He's merely providing a commentary on his thoughts and views while building it. He may or may not approve of the wall, but he likes the tradition of going out each spring and mending it. It's also a time for the neighbors to 'mend' their relationship, as stupid as that sounds.

Chrfwzrd: I'm alot like you, only I hide it better.
Vickiooos: ?
Chrfwzrd: Goodnight.
Vickiooos: lol wtf

Do you ever get that odd feeling of numbness? Actually, I wouldn't really call it numbness. More like an overwhelming of feeling.

I look at something. It gives me this odd feeling. I sit in my chair, looking at this thing. I give it a good few minutes before the feelings almost overwhelm me. Then I say, "Okay, enough. Don't do this to yourself anymore." So I stop.

But it's not until I stop looking at this thing that I realize that the feeling was so overwhelming. When I stop looking, the hairs on my arms and head all stand up. I start shivering. And a knot gathers in my throat. I unconsciously push back the tears.

I want to cry. But I rarely do. It must be a guy thing.

It's my mom's birthday party, and outdoor swimming/grilling/ping-ponging get together with her school friends who have never met us before, but know almost everything about us. My father and his work, staying at home all day. Daniel and his VW bus, his State ring from the football team he barely played on. Julia, her middle school drama, swimming and volleyball. Ollie and his near OCD status, which I feel like no one but me will actually recognize. Me and my gayness. My paganism. My theatre. And even our friends. Daniel and his friend named Anus. Me and Yma, the bald girl.
Needless to say, I don't feel too comfortable.
Needless to say, I don't necessarily want to be here.

The women sit in or by the pool, chatting away, while they force their family and husbands to mingle with eachother. Awkwardly. For a whole five minute, some dad and I watched Daniel and my dad play ping pong. This was after ten minutes of watching two other dads play ping pong. In near silence.

Of course, I'm over-dramatizing. But oh well. It's a lark.

In which some celebrity finds out that my tarot readings come true, and they start this huge fad where all the stars come to me for readings. I keep telling the press, "I"m not psychic or anything. People believe what they want to believe, and people believe that my readings are true."

So this day dream starts with me in my two bedroom apartment that I share with Elizabeth in Boston or L.A. or San Fransico. I get a buzz from the front door, and someone says, "Mr. Efron would like a reading, Mr. Bernal." And I say, "Mr. Efron should know that I don't give readings afer five o'clock without an appointment." Than Zac's voice comes on. "Chris, come on let me in. I just need to see you." I sigh, and let him in, because I've always been a sucker for cute suck-ups. He comes up, and he sees that I'm writing a blog, which has become nationally read since I made the D-list. "Ugh," he ughs. "I hate that blog of yours. I read it everyday in fear that my name will be on there." Then we fight, because he thinks he should be able to control me, and I think that he's a snob. I tell him, "We're not even going out anymore, and it's not my fault that some drunk you fucked in a bathroom took a great oppurtunity to out you to the world." Then he sighs and says, "You're right, I'm sorry." Then he spends half an hour trying to get me to let him stay the night, which I can't because I've got an 8:00 reading with my favorite client, Jennifer Aniston. Besides, I broke up with him, and if I give him any ground I'd be slightly ashamed. Although my sister, who's just graduated highschool and is going to some great school on a volleyball/swimming scholarship, doesn't understand why I don't just use him back. She doesn't understand that I would never use my clients celebrity to get my plays published, which I've now started writing under a pen name.

I'm gonna call up that old boyfriend you said still has it bad for me.

Gonna take him into town, flaunt him around, for everyone to see.

Well, you say 'Watch yourself, baby.' Well, you know the deal.

Nobody holds a candle to me in my red high heels.

If only I felt like that all the time. This song will be popular with the fans of the Brokeback Boys. I just need some red high heels to fit my feet.

God, I spent the last two years of highschool becoming way more self-confident, more friendly, and less shy. Now in a single week, that's all gone. I'm this moody middle schooler again, who doesn't talk to anyone, thinks he's smarter than everyone, and reads way too much. I feel so uncomfortable in my own skin. I keep telling myself that it'll change, "You'll lose weight, you'll get to know people, that zit inbetween your eyes will fade." And deep down, I know that it's true. It's just that right now I don't feel good at all.

Now that I think about it, I realize that it's only on mondays and wednesdays that I feel like that. Tuesdays and thursdays I'm with Daniel in chem, and Stefani in algebra, and I enjoy those classes. If only because I'm with people I've known for a good while.

And english isn't bad, just my dumb teacher. But I guess it's just tennis and acting that I feel awkward. I'm really reconsidering this acting thing. But it's the only real thing I can think of that could pay the bills. That and teach, hahah. Which is probably what I'll end up doing. Teaching english, theatre, philosophy, or theology. Whatever, you know.

Okay, now it's time to actually pay the bills. Work.

We were talking about symbols, and someone suggested the dove. "It represents peace?" the girl said, as our teacher gave her a dumbfounded look.
"Oh, yes," said the teacher. "Like in the Vietnam war, with the doves and the hawks. The represented the people for and against the war, the one in Vietnam. The doves were obviously the hippies, because they were getting killed and drafted."

I metaphorically beat my head on the desk.

Like real life, this play has too many story lines. Too many broken hearts. Too many inside jokes.

JENNY. Do you not want this?

STEPHEN. I don’t know if you want this.

JENNY. Well.. [She kisses him. They make out.]

DOUG. What do you want from me Matthew?

MATTHEW. Nothing. I… You don’t need to give me anything.

DOUG. What does that mean? Do you want me to still like you?

MATTHEW. No. I mean… I don’t know.

DOUG. What? Do you still like me? Do you want me to tell you that I never stopped loving you? Even when I tried to cut you completely out of my life?

MATTHEW. No, I just… I…

DOUG. Well?

JENNY. Say something.

STEPHEN. I… I can’t.

MATTHEW. Well..

DOUG. [Stands, and grabs Matthew’s chin.] Just look at me. Look.

JENNY. [Grabs Stephen’s chin.] Just look me straight in the eye and tell me. Tell me we'll never go out again.

STEPHEN. Okay. We'll never go out again.

MATTHEW. Okay.

DOUG. Tell me. Tell me that there's nothing there.

JENNY. Absolutely nothing no matter how deep down inside.

STEPHEN. Jenny…

JENNY. Break my heart, Stephen. Please God, just break my heart.

MATTHEW. Doug, don’t.

DOUG. Tell me.

MATTHEW & STEPHEN. I really like this girl.

Black out.

Spotlights up right and down left. Up right, Doug is seated with his arms around his knees. Matthew stands uncomfortably, shivering in the cold. Down left, Stephen is sitting on a chair, with Jenny straddled over his legs. They are making out. He stops her.

What if I started talking to people at school?

What if someone asked me out on a date?

What if try out for a part at the Alley and get in?

I think that's enough for now.

If I started talking to people at school, I'd have more friends here that I could talk to. I never see Kayla, Michelle, Morgan, Sara, or anyone I could sit with. It's nice that I have Daniel in Chem, and Stefani in Algebra, but it'd be nice to be able to talk to someone now, during my break in the library.

If someone asked me out on a date, and he was cute and I was interested, I'd say yes. I don't know what would happen from there.

If I tried out at the Alley, and got in, it would be bittersweet, because I would be lonely, and it might be hard for me to meet new people.

I think that's what life after highschool should be about. Meeting new people, and finding your way in a much less secure enviroment. At least, that's what it's like here at Cy-fair. There are no jocks, no cheerleaders, no band nerds, no theatre kids. At least, not yet.

Wow, college. Just wow. I mean, it doesn't necessarily feel like the 13th grade. I still see a few people I saw at school, but the classes are pretty easy. The teachers still treat us like high schoolers. My english teacher was teaching us how to write a sestina, and she gave us the first stanza to use in our sestina. What the heck? Plus, I'm pretty sure that each 'end-word' is supposed to be a noun. But whatever. She's nice, she just seems a little too emotionally available. Does that make sense? You know, lovey-dovey, 'lets share our feelings', kind of stuff? Eh, we'll see. It's only the second day of class. She simplified the form, but I'm gonna try and write it right, and stay true to the original form. I hope she isn't bothered by it, but come on. I'm also the youngest one in the class, since it's Comp II.

Okay, well I'm gonna grab some breakfast, and than head to tennis.

I hate sleeping badly. It took me forever to finally fall asleep, and than I was completely restless all night. I hate it, because when you sleep bad, you wake up knowing that you could've had a more fulfilling night of sleep. So, no I'm awake. Maybe it's because after a week in a small twin, I'm not used to my lovely Queen. And my dreams definitely caused a problem too. It's hard to even remember.

Anyway, today should be fun.

Tall and tan, and young and lovely, the girl from Ipanema goes walking
And when she passes, each one she passes goes - aah
When she walks, she's like a samba that swings so cool and sways so
gently
That when she passes, each one she passes goes - aah
Ooh, but he watches so sadly. How can he tell her he loves her.
Yes, he would give his heart gladly,
but each day when she walks to the sea,
she looks straight ahead not at he.

(saxaphone solo)

Ooh, but he sees her so sadly. How can he tell her he loves her.
Yes, he would give his heart gladly.
But each day, when she walks to the sea
She looks straight ahead, not at him
Tall, and tan, and young, and lovely, the girl from Ipanema goes walking
And when she passes, he smiles - but she doesn't see
She just doesn't see.

I'm starting college on monday. I rearranged my room, which I really like. It looks weird from outside, but how often do I see my room from the hallway? Or how often do I really care?

I'm ready to start the college life.

This is my last night on the island, and it's been a very nice week.

Friday morning I went to Cy-fair to pick up my student ID, my stomach was hurting. I also called my boss Dave to tell him that I wasn't coming in, because I was quitting. Later he called to tell me that I needed to find coverage or I'd be fired instead of quitting. Eh, I don't care. I wanted to do it the right way, go the two weeks, get a nice recommendation, but my parents convinced me not to. They held up a 2,200 dollar car fixing over my head, what can I say? Than we left, and drove for about an hour and a half. We passed a burning car on the way.

Saturday was nice. I slept in late. Daniel and I are sharing a room with two sets of bunk beds, so we each get two beds to ourselves. Lulu also seems to like this room alot, and she sleeps on the floor between us. We went to the beach. I flew a kite. Than my dad barbequed for dinner.

Sunday was also nice. Basically the same thing. Wake up, eat lunch, beach, eat dinner. We went into town, and I got a seagull kite from Academy.

Most everyone in our area left after the weekend, and we had the beach to ourselves on Monday. The seagull kite was hard to fly.

Tuesday we went into town for an early lunch. Julia, Ollie, and Mom went to Moody Gardens, and Daniel, Dad, and I saw Superbad. It was pretty much what I expected. Stupid laughs. I still enjoyed it. Oddly enough, the movie theatre was playing musicals with the regular music. It was odd. That night we had a bonfire on the beach. I roasted a bratwurst, and had burnt marshmallows. I love burnt marshmallows. As I looked up at the clear stars, all I could think of was the vast empty space that it really was, and I realized that I would probably never leave Earth, even if I was given the chance.

We hung out on Wednesday, than went to Schlitterbahn around 2:30. You get in cheaper at 3, since it closes at 6. On the way in I saw Chelsea from Seussical. It was totally unexpected, and a little awkward. Of course, this world is so small.

Today was nice. We went to the beach after lunch, which had huge waves. The tide was very high.

We should be leaving around 10 tomorrow.

It's been nice, a great chance to bond with my family. But I'll stll be glad to be home.

I had a movie moment today. It's my life, just normal everyday things. The only that makes me change or think is a half hour swim lesson once a day, monday through friday, with an autistic boy.

I just feel depressed right now. My car just got back from the shop, and now Daniel is out driving it who knows where. What the fuck. He doesn't even have to pay for any of the fucking repairs. Goddammit.

It's been windy/chilly during afternoon swim lessons for the past few days. Not that it's necessarily cold, but the water is way too hot. Any way, hot water and cool air make me think of fall lessons, which make me think of being in love and being heartbroken at the same time. Which is emo, as Chelsea expressed to me when I explained this to her.

I'm slowly populating my neighborhood with people I know. It's fun.

I feel like the Jane Austen of my time. Don't ask.

Zach, Nicole told me about you reading my blog. Heh, it made me feel really good, thanks.

I have this overwhelming urge to write, and maybe it's providence. Lately, I've just been thinking more, and blogging more, which is awesome.

"How bout me not blaming you for everything.
How bout me enjoying the moment for once.
How bout how good it feels to finally forgive you.
How bout grieving it all one at a time.

Thank you India.
Thank you terror.
Thank you disillusionment.
Thank you frailty.
Thank you consequence.
Thank you, thank you silence."

After a long while, I slept in your arms again last night. Metaphorically, that is.

Why is it that whenever I get the need to cry, I squash it back down. I don't want to squash it, I want it to come out.

Randomocity makes for confuzing blogs. Sorry.

Today's philosophy is drawn from the ongoing struggle between Chaos and Order.

I was lifeguarding on the corner, just standing and watching the pool, when a little boy wih highlights approaches me. "Look what I did." He said, and pointed to the ropes. All the bouys on the rope were facing the same direction and were evenly spaced apart. I nodded approvingly, and he went on his business. Five minutes later, I return my attention to the rope in front of me and I see a little mexican girl moving the bouys around, purposely taunting the boys who had organized them. In a matter of seconds, it was was a battle. The girl and her male cohort would swim around the ropes messing with the bouys, while the three boys would either cry or get mad and try to fix them. Eventually I had to step in and say, "Hey, stop playing with the ropes!" The little boy who had originally approached me came back, almost crying. "Thank you." He said, and I almost laughed.

Basically, the metaphor is that no matter how much order is put down, chaos will come back and mess things up. It just all depends on what you like better

It hurts.

One of my co-workers friends is wanting to get a job at the Y as a lifeguard. He's gay. People are asking me if I'm excited that another gay guy might work here, and I don't really want to tell them the truth. No. Why?

Because if he's like me, he'll immediately judge me as a certain type of gay. Than he'll find out whether or not we could work as a couple, and[if he's like me] he'll decide no. Then it'll just be awkward, because everyone else will be expecting us to hook up, and neither of us will be wanting any kind of non-professional relationship.

His name is Will.

My eye hurts.

It's not that I'm feeling left out or anything. I'm just missing it. Zombie Prom rehearsal started today, a few minutes ago, and I really wanna go. But I can't. I mean, I could, but it would be bad. I'm supposed to be done with highschool. And I am! But not with highschool theatre. Which is understandable, considering that I was well-liked there and I was pretty much guaranteed roles in shows. And I'm going to a bigger place, with stronger actors, and of course I'm worried. 'Sigh'

Of course, add that to the fact that a parent was telling me how to teach their kid today, and the fact that they were right. It just totally showed me that swim lessons aren't for me. And, of course, my horoscope: "On August 6, your ruling planet Jupiter turns direct after four months of backward movement." All summer I've been hating work. "This forward shift in your 10th House of Career and Community is likely to expand your understanding of your role in society and even lead to new professional opportunities." When I read this my jaw dropped. So I'm learning more about my role in society, but where does that place me on the job market? I don't know.

"But this is not allowed.
You're uninvited,
An unfortunate slight."

I really hate work. And like, I know it's a great job, with great pay, but that's all besides the point. I really don't like to work. It's something genetic, like my brown hair or my homosexuality[hah, notice how I threw in a controversial subject]. The Laziness is sunken deep down in my DNA strands. I think I just need to find a guy who can keep me, maybe a Capricorn or Taurus. Yeah, that's great. I've found another way to lower my already shallow dating pool. That's actually my dream. I haven't told many people about it. I'm going to meet a nice Harvard law school grad, that is taller than me, slim, dark-haired, and named Chad. We'll live together in New York. We'll get up in the morning, I'll make breakfast[waffles and coffee for him/tea for me], which I'll then take back to bed. He'll grab a waffle, kiss me goodbye, and make his way to work. I'll spend the morning perusing a script/practicing a new song/writing. On good days, he'll surprise me at lunch time and we'll have sex. In the evenings we'll meet up and catch a show, or just spend it at home by the fireplace, cuddling.

That's the basic set, and from there it can other places. I may be a part of the Country cover band the Brokeback Boys. Or I'll be on Broadway performing as Peter in Bare: A Pop Opera, and when Chad sees me he'll get secretly jealous of the actor playing Jason, and fiercely make love to me that night. Or I'll teach classes in Philosophy, Theology, or Theatre at NYU.

God, I miss blogging.

The wheels are turning. You'll see.