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I think I'm getting better. Today is "j.a."'s birthday. I didn't remember until I was typing in the date for the title of this entry... and it was 11:55pm. I missed the whole day and forgot even once to think about sending a card. That seems pretty amazing to me, that I never felt bad that I couldn't send a card.
She's 18 today. That sounds so old. I mean, I haven't really talked to her since she was 15. I'm pretty sure she was still 14 when her parents first forbid her to talk to me. I guess it's about time I forgot her birthday. Angelfire has a new editor. I don't think I like it. I might have to shop around for a different server. If I had a job or access to money I would probably look into buying my own domain name... but that's really not an option right now. I might move somewhere, though. I really hate the name of this page, anyway. I didn't know what I was doing when I typed in "sarahindex" as directory name. I had no idea what a directory name was. (I was thinking that that would be my index page, period, not that all my pages would stem out of that one.) I would hate to even begin updating all those links though. I'd feel obligated to e-mail everybody who has a link to me on their webpage, and there are actually quite a few now. Okay, granted, most of them are webrings I asked to be on, but still. :-) Our trip was really great. After the first few days, anyway. The first few days were spent sitting around a hotel room waiting for my cousin to call saying "we're home, come on over!" and she never called until three or four hours after we expected her to. But we left there New Year's Day and headed toward's D.C. ...We've been there several times before, so we skipped most of the museums, since I know most of them inside and out (I love the American History museum.) ...we went to Arlington National Cemetary, the Newseum, and a bunch of monuments. I talked my dad into eating at Planet Hollywood three times. We went to the Star Wars exhibit twice (I ran out of film the first time.) ...but the best part of the trip was our tour of the capital building. We have a very distant link to a guy who works there (he's my dad's sister's husband's brother. Or my aunt's brother-in-law, depending on how you look at things.) and he agreed to give us a tour. He took us through all kinds of places that say "members only" or "this hallway closed" Plus he took us down on the house floor and into the senate chamber. And he showed us the cloak rooms and the porch where Senators smoke cigars. It was great. :-) I guess I never wrote about Christmas... that was good too. I don't get as excited about Christmas as I used to. I tried. I wanted to get excited about it. It just didn't happen. I hate feeling grown up. I got my grades- my average was a 3.47 and I couldn't figure that out, because I was sure I was over 3.5 by quite a bit. Then I looked closer and discovered that in foreign governments I got a B+ - I had been averaging in at least an A- and probably an A. I could not figure out how that happened, since that's the class I got an A+ on my term paper in... and the lowest grade I had in that class before finals was a B+. I couldn't figure out how my average was the same as my lowest grade, because I was sure I had done pretty good on the final. I figured it out. The teacher in that class (are we supposed to call them professors now? I can never keep titles straight.) ...said on the last day of class that if we wanted to get our final back to leave him a self-addressed-stamped-envelope and he'd mail it to us. I did that, because I have him again next semester and I thought it might be useful to see his comments. I finally got the test back yesterday and I couldn't believe it when I saw I got a C+ on it. I studied so hard for that test. So I started looking at the breakdown of the grade... and next to Part II he wrote "missing" and I was in the house by myself but I started screaming at myself in my head, "How in the world could you have done that Sarah???" thinking that I must've missed an essay somewhere along the line... and then I looked. I didn't miss that essay. It's in there. It's two and a half pages long and I don't know how he didn't see it, but it is there. Even better, there is another essay (which he graded me on) later in the book, so you can tell I didn't just add that essay onto the end when I saw my grade. I'll go talk to him when classes start again. My dad was really mad... I have no doubt I'll get that grade changed. I just hope that I can talk him into letting me do it myself. It seems to me talking to teachers is much more effective when you do it yourself. I always feel like they see me as a coward when one of my parents takes over. It's hard not to let them take over, though. It's so easy to sit back and say "fix it." ...I've done that my whole life, and it really always worked. Sometimes it worked too slow and sometimes I should've defintely done it myself... but sometimes it's worked out really well... like when I told my parents high school wasn't working (and that if they didn't do something about it I would.) ...that one worked pretty well. The problem is, I am way too dependant on them. There are so many things I want to do, that I probably won't do because they wouldn't like it. I want to spend a semester in Washington and a semester abroad. I want to go to an expensive ivy-league grad school, even if it means putting myself in $40,000 of debt. I want to travel. But my mom panics if I even mention leaving the state by myself. She clams up and quits talking. And she starts doing this monotone "I'd love you to do that someday." speech even though I know we both know it's not going to get any better. She blames it on my age, and I can kind of see where she's coming from. She expected me to still be in high school now, not living two and a half hours away from home. I think she's havig a hard enough time with that. She keeps telling me I should put it off.... but what am I going to do in the meantime? I'm going to graduate next year. If I'm going to spend a semester studying somewhere else it has to be now. Does she expect me to wait until I'm 24 to take a semester off from whatever I'm doing and try to enroll in a Washington Semester program? That doesn't make any sense. I can't put it off unless I put off my whole last year of school, and what sense does that make. The real problem is- I need to stop listening to her. I need to stand up and do it, even though she doesn't want me to. It's hard, though. Because it's not even a simple matter of her being mad. Anyone who knows me knows I have no problem with doing things that would make her mad. The problem is she'd panic. It's hard to describe my mom panicking. She panicked a little over a year ago... when I was enrolled in a class that required a trip to Europe for a simulation. I asked her about it before I signed up. We talked about it and I explained it. But somehow, after I had already started the class she decided something wasn't okay about it. And she stopped talking to me. I would try to bring it up and she would say she didn't see why I had to go on that trip, that she wanted me to get out of it, and that she didn't want me to go. And I was screaming inside and trying so hard to stay calm when I tried to tell her that if I didn't go on the trip I would fail the class and I would have to withdraw and that I couldn't just withdraw after spending four weeks in a class. And she just said "well..." which in momspeak means "too bad. Do it anyway. End of conversation." And I did it. I withdrew. And it still makes me mad that I gave in. I gave in to everybody there, though, not just her. Nobody wanted me in that class, it seemed like. I found out later that my advisor and a dean had had to talk the teacher into it. I had had him before... twice. But before I signed up for the class I asked my advisor if there would be any problem with my age (I was 15) and taking the trip and she said she'd find out... and apparently that teacher thought he'd have to baby-sit me. Or something. Anyway, at the time I couldn't figure out why he seemed weird to me. (It was a tiny class... 7 people, I think. It wasn't just my imagination) ...but he didn't want me there either. That part didn't really matter, though... I didn't give in to him, and I wouldn't've either. I gave into her. And I don't know if I can do that again, and win. I don't know if I can take spending the whole summer here, with her, if she knows I'm going to Washington in the fall. I think I would probably give in again. Partly, I think, because there is a pretty big part of me that thinks she's right. I am really good at school work and research and things like that. There is a really huge part of me that is not at all sure I can handle an actual job. Nobody around here seems to think I can... I can't get a job anywhere. (I think they look at the check by "under 18" and the check by "not in high school" and throw it out. Either that, or they look at the check by "under 18" and the education boxes and think I'm lying and throw it out. Either way, I cannot seem to get a part-time job. Anywhere.) And I think that all her talk about "You're only 16!!" (she hasn't said it recently... maybe 17 sounds older to her) has kinda infected me too. I think about living by myself commuting to an internship job somewhere and I know I could do it. But then I start thinking about how much it would take to get there and I start doubting everything. During a major's convocation a month or so ago the head of the department was trying to sell people on the idea of spending a semester in Washington... and he started saying how you're name tag just says your name and your title- nothing about being a student. And how when you're down there you're really professionals. And I started thinking, I don't want to be a professional, I want to be a student. And I realize that has more to do with what I know than anything else. I know how to be a student. I know how to be a really good student. I have no idea how to be a professional. I wouldn't know where to begin. (well, actually I'd probably begin by shopping. Professionals can't wear jeans, can they?) But, see, that's why I think I need to do something like that internship program. Because I think if I tried, I could do it. And then I wouldn't worry about it anymore. But I'd have to try it. And the more I think about it, the more I don't really agree with the lyrics y'all see on your way in here: I'm gonna go ahead and go boldly cuz a little bird told me that jumping is easy that falling is fun right up till you hit the sidewalk shivering and stunned |