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Repost: College Sucked

Posted on March 3, 2015 by funnygurl2

On Thursday I will be posting another excerpt from my new book, “The Wind Could Blow a Bug”.

The book begins with the lead character, Jane Riley, as a senior in high school. She gets her first boyfriend, then graduates. That is when things begin to fall apart in her life. She heads off to college seeing no hope in her life, and suffering from depression. The excerpt on Thursday will come from that section of the book. I wrote it heavily from my own influences. To get you prepped, here is a post I wrote over 2 years ago about how much College Sucked. Enjoy.

And come back on Thursday for a BOOK GIVEAWAY as well!

This was originally posted on 2/26/13. You can follow this link to the original post and comments here: https://imnotstalkingyou.com/2013/02/26/college-sucked/

I always measure my experiences in life to how they would be portrayed on a sitcom. As you might expect, my own experiences often play out much differently than in TV Land. College would be one of these.

College sucked. On TV, everyone is always a joiner who participates in every student activity. They make friends they will have for the rest of their lives. They go to parties. They learn to be deep thinkers. They find their soul mate.

Me? Not so much. I was a commuter with no car for 3 out of my 4 years of college. While waiting for my ride home every day, I had to kill hours in the library. There are only two friends that I made in college that I still keep in touch with. I never went to a single party. I am not a natural-born joiner. I joined some sort of academic fraternity that never had any activities just so that I could get a sweatshirt with Greek letters on it. Then I felt self-conscious in it and never wore it. I submitted some of the depressing poetry I wrote while killing time in the library anonymously to the college literary magazine. They published a couple.

My two closest friends were at two other colleges in two different states. It made for a very lonely time in my life. My best friend came back home after her freshmen year (she HAD found the parties), which was better. But she was attending the university across town, so we never saw each other except at night.

I also had an undiagnosed, then diagnosed, stomach problem during this time as well. So I felt miserable physically as well as mentally!

It was overall the loneliest year of my life. I don’t really think I look forward to coming back in the fall. -JLF 4/27/95

My other friend, my asbestos friend, had an even worse college experience than me. I told her this week how I was going through my old college free-writes to get a true sense of the misery to work on my new story (and this blog post). Her reply?

“I don’t think I could relive that time. I’ve blocked much of it out & I think that’s for the best.”

She has told me a few of her great miserable stories, including being sick with mono and all alone, and donating so much blood for money that she passed out in the parking lot at the donation place. (Those are two separate occasions. I think.) But my favorite story is the one where she takes her life back into her own hands. It’s the story where during her last semester she realizes college is making her miserable and she is an adult. She has her own job and her own place to live. She just leaves the campus and never turns back. She is my hero:)

I did not leave. I stayed, hoping to get my MRS. degree. I only went to college because my mom told me I had to either do that or get a job. I had gone to school for K-12 years. I had never had a job. I picked the option I was familiar with. I should have got a job. Now I have a Bachelor’s Degree and I am applying to entry-level store jobs at Meijer, Cash Advance, and Family Video. And they are not hiring me.

Compilation of 2 No Doubt drawings I made while in college

Compilation of 2 No Doubt drawings I made while in college

I had my first boyfriend for a month my freshmen year. After it ended, from my old writings, I seemed to be lonelier than before.

When I was in high school, I had a few hours after school everyday before my mom got home from work that was my time to myself. In college, I had no privacy. My mom was my ride. If she was home I was home and she drove me nuts. (This is probably the only way my college experience was worse than my asbestos friend’s.) My bedroom didn’t even have a door. I would stay up late to do homework, and find myself watching Beavis & Butthead marathons on MTV instead. I always said that I could feel my brain cells rotting away as I watched that show. I think it helped numb my depression. Then my mom, who always slept on the couch in the living room where the only TV was, would wake up. (Yes, I went to college in the Dark Ages. My college had text-only Internet my freshmen year!) She would ask me,”Are you watching Beaver & Buttface?” I mostly watched it for the music videos, which sucks, because any version released on DVD has only limited music videos. How much did I watch them? Here are a poem and some fan artwork from that time:

Lovin’ the Boys
By: JLF
3/7/95

If I make a video
Can I get on that show?
First I would have to make
A really cool video
You know,
One with lots of guitars,
And riffs, and drums.
I would stumble around
In a really short dress
And scream all the words
Really, really loud.
I would put in some shots
Of farm animals and livestock,
And throw in a toilet
(To give them something to talk about).
Then I would send it to New York,
To that video channel,
And wait every day & every night
For them to put my video on that show.
They could sit there on their couch
In their dirty T-shirts & stinky shorts
And watch my video.
That dark-haired guy and his dumb-blond friend
Could belch and fart
And yell “Fire! Fire!”
Then they would deem my video
As “Cool” or “Sucks”,
By how short my dress was,
How loud I yelled,
And the fact my video had only one
Toilet in it.
But I would be happy
Because I got to see my video,
With one of those yellow, pointy
signs with their names in it
In the corner of the screen.

And that would make it worthwhile. . .

Illustration I made based on a video that Beavis & Butthead mocked. (My son likes this pic a lot. Maybe I should be concerned about that.)

Illustration I made based on a video that Beavis & Butthead mocked. (My son likes this pic a lot. Maybe I should be concerned about that.)

I ended up getting an on-campus job, so I started interacting with my classmates a little more. It also got me out of the library. I got paid (!) to wait for my ride. That helped a little.

Then I got a better boyfriend. I couldn’t find him at college, because he was still in high school. (I should have flunked!) Those who know me know he is now my husband.

Then I got an off-campus job too, in addition to those other things. My best friend worked at the convenience store too, and helped me get the job. People who know me know it was one of my favorite jobs. I liked it so well that I saved up my earnings over the summer so that I could buy a car so that in the fall I could keep the job while I finished college. (Most people get a job to get a car. I got a car to keep a job.)

I should become a writer like Erma Bombeck & just write about “stuff”. -JLF (found in an old college notebook)

So, ya, college sucked for me. I can enthusiastically say that not everyone enjoys themselves at college. Accept this post and the accompanying writings below as evidence. Probably the worst time of my life. When my son gets old enough, I don’t know how I will ever be able to keep from talking negatively about it. I kind of feel about it the way I do about the Lord of the Rings films. I want my time and money back. I want my four years and my $18,000 back (I got a lot of scholarships).

Untitled
By: JLF
4/8/95

There’s a party tonight
General Admission – $2
There’s a party tonight
Everyone Welcome
Are you going to the party tonight?
I don’t think they mean me
Are you going to the party tonight?
Everyone would be happier if I didn’t
Everyone’s going
But I am not
Everyone’s going
I’ll stay home and listen
to my own silence.
Sometimes a person
has to look through the thick, black
copier ink lettering
And realize that circumstances
and situations and history
are the things that really predict
who will attend the ball
and who will stay home.

The Driving Rain
By: JLF

It is 9:06PM. It’s raining. I have a half a tank of gas. Will this be the night. Will this be the night I keep going and don’t look back?

I could change my life right now. It would be just as easy as changing channels on the television. I can see all my different options spread out in front of me, and the television channels just keep going. There is the music video channel, blaring sounds and images. There is Channel 25. All Hitler, All the time. The third reicht of the Chicago area. Heil! Channel 25. Then the weather channel. Do I want rain or do I want sunshine? Which road will lead me to what type of weather?

Oh. I’m on the road back home. But I still don’t have to go there. This road is so boring, so familiar. A person could die on a road like this and the drivers who travel it every day would probably not notice the body for months. Was the light I just went through green or read, not that it would really mater. The slick road is completely vacant of other cars. The only tire marks I can see on the wet pavement are in my rear view mirror. I could slip out of town now, right out of the city limits. No one would see me, no one would be the wiser.

God, to just keep driving. To have no pre-planned destination, no over-analyzed goals—it all sounds like a dream. For the first time since I walked into Kindergarten on Experience Day and was assigned a seat and pencils and crayons, I would be in charge for myself. New mothers complain about not having handbooks to care for their new children. It is too bad they don’t make handbooks for the children, to help figure out what is right for themselves. I feel like I have never done anything I truly wanted to in my entire life.

One more road until home. Is this it? Well, a few times I have done what I wanted. There was the time I went to the carnival by myself, and I kept playing games until I won a stuffed animal. But I felt as though everyone was staring at me because I was by myself. (I am always by myself. I am at this very moment.) I got a stuffed animal that day. But it wasn’t from the guy I flirted with or the games I tried the hardest at. I got my little stuffed bear from a crooked game and, even though I know that, I still think of him as a lucky charm.

Should someone as naïve as I be roaming around the nation’s highways? Probably not.

Ahh—I just passed the drive to my house. But it wasn’t a brave, meaningful decision of symbolism as I had hoped. I simply got too caught up in my petty thoughts. But there is always a last refuge of a coward. I click on my turn signal for the next road, like reflex. I will turn around and make my way back to the same house and my same room.

Tonight—tonight I just couldn’t do it. Rain can be romantic, but it is also scary. A half a tank of gas, well, maybe I’ll try it when there is a full tank. Maybe I’ll try it when I have more courage, or more caffeine coursing through my veins. Maybe I just need something more to run away from than familiarity.

So, I pull in the same driveway, unlock the same door with the same key, and walk through the living rom. I flick on the TV without even turning on a lamp, enjoying the flashes of blue that light up the room instead. I turn on the Weather Channel and see what it will be like tomorrow.

I hate life.
By: JLF
8/96
I hate life. I hate life. Life sucks so bad. My life is just one f***ing blackhole, which I don’t know what that is because I am too lazy & distracted to bother to read my astronomy book to bother to find out what a f***ing blackhole is! And why do I have to come back to f***ing school, which I f***ing hate! I have only had panic attacks while I had to go to school since I was in, like Kindergarten. I HATE SCHOOL! It makes me feel all yucky inside. It makes me feel dark & gloomy inside. It makes me feel like I do when I think about death–> DEATH, how stiffling & cold & lonely & empty it will be. That is what every second at school feels like to me…

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PURCHASE as a Paperback or eBook on Amazon.com TODAY.

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Yes, Kid Rock, I Have Stalked You, Part 2

Posted on May 22, 2014 by funnygurl2

This is part two of a long post.  For part one, please visit: https://imnotstalkingyou.com/2014/05/20/yes-kid-rock-i-have-stalked-you-part-1/

So, that video shoot my friend told me about? Turned out, the video shoot for “Forever” was going to be held at the Michigan State Fairgrounds (now extinct) the NEXT weekend, and it would be widely announced by the local media. It was also being filmed by MTV’s Making the Video show. I was so psyched!

My friend and I went to Meijer late the night before so that I could buy one of those red markers to draw on your car windows with. I also bought stuff to make sandwiches for lunch for all of us the next day. Then I drove all the way home. By then it was the middle of the freakin’ night, and I had to turn around and get up early and pick up my friends and drive to the Michigan State Fairgrounds.

While it would be 30 degrees warmer in 4 days, it was only around a high of maybe 40 degrees that day at the wide open fairgrounds.  The wind whipped through. The thrill of being at an actual music video kept us going for a while. First thing to be filmed was some monster trucks. Then we finally got to see Kid Rock, as he rode out on his own Monster Truck. My husband ran up with the rest of the crowd and took a picture.

Kid Rock on a monster truck

Kid Rock on a monster truck

Then there was more time waiting while they set up the stage for the performance scenes. I think we snuck off to our car to try and find some respite from the terrible windchill. We ate our sandwiches. We never really warmed up. We returned to the set.

The band finally came out and started getting set up. Uncle Kracker came out at the far end of the stage from us. By this time, he had already released his own album, toured, and had a few hits (depending on how you define a “hit”). And yet, no one was saying anything! So, my green-haired friend and I started chanting “Kracker! Kracker! Kracker!” The crowd picked it up. Then Kracker looked up at the crowd and smiled a big, goofy grin. We all cheered. That is my most favorite memory from that day. Uncle Kracker doesn’t know it, but that smile was for us, because we started the chant.

This is where we started. Trust me, we got closer.

This is where we started. Trust me, we got closer.

Then Kid Rock came out, explaining that they have to do several takes while lip-syncing to the original track. If I stood on my toes, I could see Pamela Anderson at the side of the stage. After that, he performed some of his hits for us. There was this group of young kids in front of us, 17 years old maybe? The one girl in their group had obviously never been in a pit before and just complained about EVERYTHING!  “Oh my God, stop pushing!” I was a concert veteran by now. I knew by now, you had to accept the pushing and shoving or get the f*ck out. Eventually, that party left, helping us to move closer to the stage. I may have pushed her a few times, on purpose, to speed that along 😉 Yup, Kid Rock had helped me find my inner American Bad Ass.

Kenny Olsen and Jason Krause of TBT, center

Kenny Olson and Jason Krause of TBT, center

After that, they shot a scene where a girl in a bikini was supposed to be thrown in the air off of an American flag. My husband was holding onto the edge, but somehow he did not end up still holding on to it when the cameras started rolling.

By the time that scene was over, it was dark. I was so cold and starving, that Kid Rock himself probably would have had to come out and convince me to stay. We got in the car and left. By that time, there were very few people still there.

When we watched the finished music video later, we would see that we probably missed our best chance at meeting Kid Rock. The final scenes shot were those of him actually walking through the crowd. And I can tell you, the people you see in the scene are the ONLY ONES still there. Everyone else had left due to the cold.

Here is the “Forever” music video. Try to find me in it. I still do…

I can’t believe that none of the four of us ended up in the finished video OR the MTV Making The Video. And my green-haired friend’s brother is like 7 feet tall (not quite). How does that not show up in every shot?

I saw Kid Rock on the Cocky tour three times in 2002. I stood in line to buy tickets when they went on sale to see him at the Palace of Auburn Hills. By then, there were so many people in line, Ticketmaster was doing a stupid random number draw to decide where people fell in line. I ended up purchasing my tickets about ten minutes after they went on sale. The seats I ended up with were clear up by the ceiling. It was RIDICULOUS! That would have been a miserable show, except for there were two college guys in the row in front of me who were dancing and singing along with every word, just as I was. That made the bad seats a little easier to take.

That same week, I bought tickets for Kid Rock at the Toledo Sports Arena (a MUCH smaller venue) four days after they went on sale. I was still able to get General Admission tickets. By the end of that concert, I had pushed my way up to second row from the stage. When Kid Rock came out with a shot gun to shoot out the lights, I was just a little scared! It was impressive. I was so close to my obsession, but there was no way to get closer.

In September, I saw him at DTE Energy Theatre. We only had lawn tickets. I had come to the conclusion that there was no way to get close tickets for Kid Rock in his “hometown” of Detroit. My green-haired friend and I had been to that venue many times by now. I knew the back way into the place that usually resulted in quick parking. But this show had a problem. People were coming and tailgating in the parking lot–PEOPLE WITHOUT TICKETS TO THE SHOW!!!! It caused a horrible traffic jam. It was then that I decided never to buy tickets for a Kid Rock show in Detroit again.  It was throwing your money away.  There was just no way to get close to him.

We were late. We ran as fast as we could from the gates to the stage. We could hear Kid Rock and Run-D.M.C. performing together. They left the stage just as we rounded the corner in view of the stage.  We never saw them.

Jam Master Jay would be shot and murdered a month later. We had missed one of the final performances of RUN-D.M.C. by 60 seconds. It haunts me still.

Somehow by the end of that concert, my friend and I made it into the top of the pavilion seats. Which was awesome, because during his performance of “Early Mornin’ Stoned Pimp”, when Kid Rock wears his long fur coat and pimp hat with the feather in it, metallic confetti was dropped from the ceiling. It may have even been one of his encores. It was just such an awesome and moving experience. Part of that could have also been that the people in front of us were smoking pot.

The following is a journal entry about the show.  Remember, I had already disclosed that I was obsessed…

Kid Rock @ DTE 9/13/02

I have been to church*
It has been such a long time.
Look at my fellow followers.
The congregation. Up at the sky.
We love our god. He gives us power, energy, life.
He is so trashy/rude-but at the same time points out things in our society that we take too seriously. He reminds us life can be fun, in addition to the misery. He melodically puts us on a higher level.

Look at the clouds. Look at the sky. Look at the congregation grooving en mass. Feel the worn but wonderful as it courses through our bodies. This may be my last chance for awhile to chant in unison with my god. I am at church.

*I think “church about every Kid Rock show I go to.

It was such a great show. On the way out, I found a Kid Rock wife beater laying in the parking lot, fresh from the souvenir stand. That was probably a $30 value right there. I would wear it to many future concerts.

In November 27, 2003, we went to see Uncle Kracker perform at the Emerald Theatre. And yes, I was hoping Kid Rock would make an appearance. It was a great show at a great theater, but no Kid Rock.

At some point in all this, my crazy friend’s best friend did the hair of someone who knew what road Kid Rock lived on in Ortonville. (It was pretty common knowledge that he lived in Ortonville, Michigan at that time.) So, we all planned a weekend field trip to try to find his house. Except, well, the best friend couldn’t remember for sure what road the customer had said. We saw lots of scenic Ortonville. We took pictures of the different roads and houses we found, in case they were it. We unknowingly drove past a bar he regularly visited like six times and never stopped.

My crazy friend had access to online real estate records at the time. When she got home, she did a property search. She emailed me both the parcel info, and an aerial picture of the house. I won’t include those here. I also won’t tell you the address, but the road rhymes with my maiden name. Here is the picture I took of Kid Rock’s front gate:

Kid Rock's front gate

Kid Rock’s front gate

It is my pride and joy. I used to display it proudly in my cubicle at my old office job. We didn’t try to go past the gate because we did not want Kid Rock to shoot us.

Although, that would have been a GREAT story!

I have no idea if he still lives there or not. That was over ten years ago.

Sadly, I have not seen Kid Rock since 2002. I saw him a total of six times.  I loved the rap rock thing, but I always liked the rare song on a CD where he sang, especially a dark version I have of the Hank Williams Jr. song “A Country Boy Can Survive”. I always wanted him to sing more. On his newer albums, he did just that. But, then, I wished that he would rap more.

I still love his old stuff, but my obsession has faded. I don’t follow his new stuff. I had to get rid of my cardboard standee. It took up too much room in my one bedroom apartment. All my concert T-shirts got worn out. My husband and I moved into our house, and my CD collection got stashed in a chest that gets cluttered on top, making it hard to access my CDs.

I have met a lot of celebrities. Probably more than my fair share. Check out my “When Stars Align” page if you don’t believe me. I wish I had met Kid Rock before he was famous. I am sure he was playing little dive bars in Detroit. It was possible. I just didn’t know that he existed. That is the dream, I guess. To meet a famous person before the fame sets in and they become unreachable.

I did actually get to meet the band Good Charlotte at the height of their fame. But, well, that is a story for another day.

At this point, I am waiting for Kid Rock to lose popularity. Maybe someday he will come to the county fair and I will be able to meet him when no one else wants to.

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College Sucked

Posted on February 26, 2013 by funnygurl2

I always measure my experiences in life to how they would be portrayed on a sitcom. As you might expect, my own experiences often play out much differently than in TV Land. College would be one of these.

College sucked. On TV, everyone is always a joiner who participates in every student activity. They make friends they will have for the rest of their lives. They go to parties. They learn to be deep thinkers. They find their soul mate.

Me? Not so much. I was a commuter with no car for 3 out of my 4 years of college. While waiting for my ride home every day, I had to kill hours in the library. There are only two friends that I made in college that I still keep in touch with.  I never went to a single party.  I am not a natural-born joiner. I joined some sort of academic fraternity that never had any activities just so that I could get a sweatshirt with Greek letters on it. Then I felt self-conscious in it and never wore it.  I submitted some of the depressing poetry I wrote while killing time in the library anonymously to the college literary magazine. They published a couple.

My two closest friends were at two other colleges in two different states. It made for a very lonely time in my life. My best friend came back home after her freshmen year (she HAD found the parties), which was better. But she was attending the university across town, so we never saw each other except at night.

I also had an undiagnosed, then diagnosed, stomach problem during this time as well.  So I felt miserable physically as well as mentally!

It was overall the loneliest year of my life.  I don’t really think I look forward to coming back in the fall.  -JLF 4/27/95

My other friend, my asbestos friend, had an even worse college experience than me. I told her this week how I was going through my old college free-writes to get a true sense of the misery to work on my new story (and this blog post). Her reply?

“I don’t think I could relive that time. I’ve blocked much of it out & I think that’s for the best.”

She has told me a few of her great miserable stories, including being sick with mono and all alone, and donating so much blood for money that she passed out in the parking lot at the donation place. (Those are two separate occasions. I think.) But my favorite story is the one where she takes her life back into her own hands. It’s the story where during her last semester she realizes college is making her miserable and she is an adult. She has her own job and her own place to live. She just leaves the campus and never turns back. She is my hero:)

I did not leave. I stayed, hoping to get my MRS. degree. I only went to college because my mom told me I had to either do that or get a job. I had gone to school for K-12 years. I had never had a job. I picked the option I was familiar with. I should have got a job. Now I have a Bachelor’s Degree and I am applying to entry-level store jobs at Meijer, Cash Advance, and Family Video. And they are not hiring me.

Compilation of 2 No Doubt drawings I made while in college

Compilation of 2 No Doubt drawings I made while in college

I had my first boyfriend for a month my freshmen year. After it ended, from my old writings, I seemed to be lonelier than before.

When I was in high school, I had a few hours after school everyday before my mom got home from work that was my time to myself. In college, I had no privacy. My mom was my ride. If she was home I was home and she drove me nuts. (This is probably the only way my college experience was worse than my asbestos friend’s.) My bedroom didn’t even have a door. I would stay up late to do homework, and find myself watching Beavis & Butthead marathons on MTV instead. I always said that I could feel my brain cells rotting away as I watched that show. I think it helped numb my depression. Then my mom, who always slept on the couch in the living room where the only TV was, would wake up. (Yes, I went to college in the Dark Ages. My college had text-only Internet my freshmen year!) She would ask me,”Are you watching Beaver & Buttface?” I mostly watched it for the music videos, which sucks, because any version released on DVD has only limited music videos. How much did I watch them? Here are a poem and some fan artwork from that time:

Lovin’ the Boys
By: JLF
3/7/95

If I make a video
Can I get on that show?
First I would have to make
A really cool video
You know,
One with lots of guitars,
And riffs, and drums.
I would stumble around
In a really short dress
And scream all the words
Really, really loud.
I would put in some shots
Of farm animals and livestock,
And throw in a toilet
(To give them something to talk about).
Then I would send it to New York,
To that video channel,
And wait every day & every night
For them to put my video on that show.
They could sit there on their couch
In their dirty T-shirts & stinky shorts
And watch my video.
That dark-haired guy and his dumb-blond friend
Could belch and fart
And yell “Fire! Fire!”
Then they would deem my video
As “Cool” or “Sucks”,
By how short my dress was,
How loud I yelled,
And the fact my video had only one
Toilet in it.
But I would be happy
Because I got to see my video,
With one of those yellow, pointy
signs with their names in it
In the corner of the screen.

And that would make it worthwhile. . .

Illustration I made based on a video that Beavis & Butthead mocked. (My son likes this pic a lot. Maybe I should be concerned about that.)

Illustration I made based on a video that Beavis & Butthead mocked. (My son likes this pic a lot. Maybe I should be concerned about that.)

I ended up getting an on-campus job, so I started interacting with my classmates a little more. It also got me out of the library. I got paid (!) to wait for my ride. That helped a little.

Then I got a better boyfriend. I couldn’t find him at college, because he was still in high school. (I should have flunked!) Those who know me know he is now my husband.

Then I got an off-campus job too, in addition to those other things. My best friend worked at the convenience store too, and helped me get the job. People who know me know it was one of my favorite jobs. I liked it so well that I saved up my earnings over the summer so that I could buy a car so that in the fall I could keep the job while I finished college. (Most people get a job to get a car. I got a car to keep a job.)

I should become a writer like Erma Bombeck & just write about “stuff”. -JLF (found in an old college notebook)

So, ya, college sucked for me.  I can enthusiastically say that not everyone enjoys themselves at college.  Accept this post and the accompanying writings below as evidence.  Probably the worst time of my life. When my son gets old enough, I don’t know how I will ever be able to keep from talking negatively about it. I kind of feel about it the way I do about the Lord of the Rings films. I want my time and money back. I want my four years and my $18,000 back (I got a lot of scholarships).

Untitled
By: JLF
4/8/95

There’s a party tonight
General Admission – $2
There’s a party tonight
Everyone Welcome
Are you going to the party tonight?
I don’t think they mean me
Are you going to the party tonight?
Everyone would be happier if I didn’t
Everyone’s going
But I am not
Everyone’s going
I’ll stay home and listen
to my own silence.
Sometimes a person
has to look through the thick, black
copier ink lettering
And realize that circumstances
and situations and history
are the things that really predict
who will attend the ball
and who will stay home.

The Driving Rain
By: JLF

It is 9:06PM.  It’s raining.  I have a half a tank of gas.  Will this be the night.  Will this be the night I keep going and don’t look back?

I could change my life right now.  It would be just as easy as changing channels on the television.  I can see all my different options spread out in front of me, and the television channels just keep going.  There is the music video channel, blaring sounds and images.  There is Channel 25.  All Hitler, All the time.  The third reicht of the Chicago area.  Heil!  Channel 25.  Then the weather channel.  Do I want rain or do I want sunshine?  Which road will lead me to what type of weather?

Oh.  I’m on the road back home.  But I still don’t have to go there.  This road is so boring, so familiar.  A person could die on a road like this and the drivers who travel it every day would probably not notice the body for months.  Was the light I just went through green or read, not that it would really mater.  The slick road is completely vacant of other cars.  The only tire marks I can see on the wet pavement are in my rear view mirror.  I could slip out of town now, right out of the city limits.  No one would see me, no one would be the wiser.

God, to just keep driving.  To have no pre-planned destination, no over-analyzed goals—it all sounds like a dream.  For the first time since I walked into Kindergarten on Experience Day and was assigned a seat and pencils and crayons, I would be in charge for myself.  New mothers complain about not having handbooks to care for their new children.  It is too bad they don’t make handbooks for the children, to help figure out what is right for themselves.  I feel like I have never done anything I truly wanted to in my entire life.

One more road until home.  Is this it?  Well, a few times I have done what I wanted.  There was the time I went to the carnival by myself, and I kept playing games until I won a stuffed animal.  But I felt as though everyone was staring at me because I was by myself.  (I am always by myself.  I am at this very moment.)  I got a stuffed animal that day.  But it wasn’t from the guy I flirted with or the games I tried the hardest at.  I got my little stuffed bear from a crooked game and, even though I know that, I still think of him as a lucky charm.

Should someone as naïve as I be roaming around the nation’s highways?  Probably not.

Ahh—I just passed the drive to my house.  But it wasn’t a brave, meaningful decision of symbolism as I had hoped.  I simply got too caught up in my petty thoughts.  But there is always a last refuge of a coward.  I click on my turn signal for the next road, like reflex. I will turn around and make my way back to the same house and my same room.

Tonight—tonight I just couldn’t do it.  Rain can be romantic, but it is also scary.  A half a tank of gas, well, maybe I’ll try it when there is a full tank.  Maybe I’ll try it when I have more courage, or more caffeine coursing through my veins.  Maybe I just need something more to run away from than familiarity.

So, I pull in the same driveway, unlock the same door with the same key, and walk through the living rom.  I flick on the TV without even turning on a lamp, enjoying the flashes of blue that light up the room instead.  I turn on the Weather Channel and see what it will be like tomorrow.

I hate life.
By: JLF
8/96
I hate life. I hate life. Life sucks so bad. My life is just one f***ing blackhole, which I don’t know what that is because I am too lazy & distracted to bother to read my astronomy book to bother to find out what a f***ing blackhole is! And why do I have to come back to f***ing school, which I f***ing hate! I have only had panic attacks while I had to go to school since I was in, like Kindergarten. I HATE SCHOOL! It makes me feel all yucky inside. It makes me feel dark & gloomy inside. It makes me feel like I do when I think about death–> DEATH, how stiffling & cold & lonely & empty it will be. That is what every second at school feels like to me…

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