Sunday

May 17



I'm starting to worry that the length and bulk of my prom dress will hinder my reckless, maniacal dancing. This cannot happen, not only because it would likely result in tearing the fabric of my dress with my heels, but also because dancing like an animal with no control over body movements is something I cherish very close to my heart. 

Today was the last show and now I hopefully will never see Bye Bye Birdie, or hear a song from it, or a reference to it, or a joke about it, or the words "bye" and "bird" in the same sentence, ever again, for as long as I live. I am very happy to be done with it. Today Oleg pulled a miniature American flag out of nowhere, waved it around a little bit, and then put it under his chair. Mr. Miller jabbed him with a bass clarinet and told him that you never EVER put an American flag on the floor, even when it is made of shitty polyester and was manufactured in Taiwan by hungry little seven-year-olds. I pointed out that Oleg wasn't technically an American citizen until last January, so shouldn't he be entitled to less patriotism than the rest of our dumb lot. This was disregarded by everyone but Oleg. When I was leaving the school I realized that I could walk down the entire hallway from the cafeteria to the outside door, across the street, into the parking lot, and to my car, entirely in a straight line. So I did so of course, and noticed for the first time how incredibly difficult it is to walk in a straight line. I drove home and stopped at Kathryn Shoro's house, where Kathryn Shoro wasn't, but Steve, Jeff, Nate, and Joey were filming a movie. I watched them film it, and it was so funny that at one point I had to press my nose into the pavement to prevent myself from laughing out loud and ruining their only take. 

David Sedaris is a really good writer and he went to an okay college and dropped out. Does this mean I can be a good writer even though I'm going to Umass? Maybe not, because I can't even squeeze out a graduation speech. The song of the day is "It Just Is" by Rilo Kiley. I don't remember why now, but this phrase has been bouncing around in my head all day. It's simply the truest possible string of words you can ever imagine.

2 comments:

J. Frixj said...

Being a good writer has less to do with what school you go to than your favorite animal has to do with what you ate for breakfast. Before I reached that paragraph, I was already thinking about how good of a writer you've become, no lie! That bit about the American flag was hella the funny

Mr. Bronson said...

I didn't know you were going to UMASS.... I am promising you that I won't give you any advice that you would find useless and overbearing. So, yeah, I guess I won't give you any advice. Except this one, you must take as many classes with Stephen Harris as you possibly can. Also, if you remember, tell him I said hi and that I want a copy of my thesis :)
UMASS will be better than you think. Take as many honors classes as you can, they are far more interesting and you get special treatment from the professors.... oh, treat that last bit as something other than advice.