"August 17, 2003 - 11:57 PM
I just got off the phone with Lizzie. Miranda is moving. To Australia. Lizzie is absolutely freaking out. She doesn't know what she's going to do without her. I mentioned that whatever Lizzie is feeling, Miranda's probably feeling it ten times more, since she's the one leaving everything she knows. Lizzie said that she thought of that, and mentioned her cousin, Riley. She says that Riley seems to be having a really hard time adjusting to living here. How could she not be? She's never going to see her parents again and probably won't see her friends for a really long time. Lizzie said that Riley's really upset that she won't be with her boyfriend (Dimitri, I think) for their three year anniversary. Who wouldn't be? Sometimes Lizzie is just so damn superficial; she refuses to see anything below the surface.
Sometimes I wonder what I see in Lizzie. Like I said, she can be so superficial. And she acts like she won't have anyone now that Miranda's leaving. What the hell am I? Apparently nothing. Nothing to Lizzie, nothing to anyone. Even nothing to my parents. I can't believe how much they've been fighting lately. I don't think they've said a civil word to each other in weeks. You'd think that two freakin' shrinks would be able to work out their own problems, but apparently their own issues are too far beyond their reach.
What I really want to know is why can't I get my mind off of Lizzie? She's all I think about. I even dream about her at night. I know that last year I had a huge, monumental crush on her, but I thought I outgrew that. Over the summer, I really started realizing how different we are. All she seems to care about is hair and makeup and popularity. Almost all she talked about all summer was how she hoped that in high school she would be able to be popular. And she still thinks that Kate is going to try to ruin her life. Well, I've got news for her. Kate is going to be just as lost as Lizzie will be in this school. Four middle schools combine to make Hillridge Central. That's four times the amount of kids that was at Hillridge Middle School. Neither Kate nor Lizzie is going to know what will hit them.
But then again, I probably won't either. I don't understand why everyone always thinks I'm the one with all the answers. Probably because I'm the "A-student." But just because I'm smart in school doesn't mean that I know all the answers to life's problems. Like Lizzie was asking me how she should handle, as she puts it, "The Riley Situation." Leave it to Lizzie to depersonalize and completely dehumanize Riley's problems into "a situation." How the hell am I supposed to know what Lizzie should do about it? I haven't even met Riley. And I have no way of understanding what she's going through. I've never lost someone in my life the way she has. She lost her parents. I haven't lost my parents. They're still here. In all their arguing glory."
He slammed his journal shut and threw it against the wall on the opposite side of his room. He was so sick of hearing his parents yelling at each other. That was all they ever did anymore. Sighing heavily, he walked over to the window, glaring out at the summer rain. His rambling thoughts also were driving him crazy. He thought about what he had just written in his journal. He had jumped from topic to topic. Gordo usually knew what was going on with everyone around him, but as of late he was realizing how difficult it was to know what was going on inside his own head. He checked his watch. 12:31. 'Well, I should probably try to get some sleep.'
Walking over to his bed, he flopped down on top of it. He did not know how long he had been lying there, without sleep, until he checked his watch again. 3:12. 'What did I just spend three hours thinking about? I don't even remember. What is wrong with me?'
Voices from down the hall pulled him out of his bed. He leaned closer to his door, straining to hear his parents' argument. 'What the hell are they yelling about now?' He stood there for a moment, before shaking his head in disgust. "The same old shit," he mumbled. Stumbling to his bed, Gordo dropped onto it again, this time face down. He sighed heavily, still not able to fall asleep.
Standing, he looked in the full length mirror attached to the back of his door. He was dressed in baggy sweatpants, without a shirt on. Contently, he noticed that all the working out and life guarding he had done over the summer had paid off. He softly ran his palm over his developed abdomen, noting how tan his whole chest and arms were. Smiling slightly, he noticed that he was not longer able to see his face in the mirror. The growth spurt most boys in school had had when they were eleven or twelve had waiting until this past summer to take hold of Gordo. He now stood at a striking five foot ten. He leaned down to inspect his face. Nothing different there, except a little less baby fat and a little more hair. Lizzie had spent half the summer trying to convince him to cut his hair. Apparently, it would be more mature, more high school if it was shorter. He did not really care what was more mature or more high school. He liked his hair; it suited him.
He crossed the room to where an acoustic guitar sat in the corner, behind a music stand filled with music sheets. Sitting on the floor, Indian style, he began to strum the strings softly. He played some of the chords of John Mayer's "Quiet," humming quietly along with it. Part way through, a deep, but soft, voice sang out one of the lines, "I can't seem to find, the quiet inside, my mind." Another change had come over Gordo that summer. His voice had deepened to a smooth baritone.
Gordo placed his guitar back against the wall, and walked over to the window again. The rainstorm had slowed to a soft drizzle. Leaning his head against the cool window pane, he sighed quietly.
"I can't seem to find, the quiet inside, my mind."
**A/N: John Mayer owns "Quiet." If you've never heard it and like John Mayer, I suggest picking up his self-released album "Inside Wants Out."
I just got off the phone with Lizzie. Miranda is moving. To Australia. Lizzie is absolutely freaking out. She doesn't know what she's going to do without her. I mentioned that whatever Lizzie is feeling, Miranda's probably feeling it ten times more, since she's the one leaving everything she knows. Lizzie said that she thought of that, and mentioned her cousin, Riley. She says that Riley seems to be having a really hard time adjusting to living here. How could she not be? She's never going to see her parents again and probably won't see her friends for a really long time. Lizzie said that Riley's really upset that she won't be with her boyfriend (Dimitri, I think) for their three year anniversary. Who wouldn't be? Sometimes Lizzie is just so damn superficial; she refuses to see anything below the surface.
Sometimes I wonder what I see in Lizzie. Like I said, she can be so superficial. And she acts like she won't have anyone now that Miranda's leaving. What the hell am I? Apparently nothing. Nothing to Lizzie, nothing to anyone. Even nothing to my parents. I can't believe how much they've been fighting lately. I don't think they've said a civil word to each other in weeks. You'd think that two freakin' shrinks would be able to work out their own problems, but apparently their own issues are too far beyond their reach.
What I really want to know is why can't I get my mind off of Lizzie? She's all I think about. I even dream about her at night. I know that last year I had a huge, monumental crush on her, but I thought I outgrew that. Over the summer, I really started realizing how different we are. All she seems to care about is hair and makeup and popularity. Almost all she talked about all summer was how she hoped that in high school she would be able to be popular. And she still thinks that Kate is going to try to ruin her life. Well, I've got news for her. Kate is going to be just as lost as Lizzie will be in this school. Four middle schools combine to make Hillridge Central. That's four times the amount of kids that was at Hillridge Middle School. Neither Kate nor Lizzie is going to know what will hit them.
But then again, I probably won't either. I don't understand why everyone always thinks I'm the one with all the answers. Probably because I'm the "A-student." But just because I'm smart in school doesn't mean that I know all the answers to life's problems. Like Lizzie was asking me how she should handle, as she puts it, "The Riley Situation." Leave it to Lizzie to depersonalize and completely dehumanize Riley's problems into "a situation." How the hell am I supposed to know what Lizzie should do about it? I haven't even met Riley. And I have no way of understanding what she's going through. I've never lost someone in my life the way she has. She lost her parents. I haven't lost my parents. They're still here. In all their arguing glory."
He slammed his journal shut and threw it against the wall on the opposite side of his room. He was so sick of hearing his parents yelling at each other. That was all they ever did anymore. Sighing heavily, he walked over to the window, glaring out at the summer rain. His rambling thoughts also were driving him crazy. He thought about what he had just written in his journal. He had jumped from topic to topic. Gordo usually knew what was going on with everyone around him, but as of late he was realizing how difficult it was to know what was going on inside his own head. He checked his watch. 12:31. 'Well, I should probably try to get some sleep.'
Walking over to his bed, he flopped down on top of it. He did not know how long he had been lying there, without sleep, until he checked his watch again. 3:12. 'What did I just spend three hours thinking about? I don't even remember. What is wrong with me?'
Voices from down the hall pulled him out of his bed. He leaned closer to his door, straining to hear his parents' argument. 'What the hell are they yelling about now?' He stood there for a moment, before shaking his head in disgust. "The same old shit," he mumbled. Stumbling to his bed, Gordo dropped onto it again, this time face down. He sighed heavily, still not able to fall asleep.
Standing, he looked in the full length mirror attached to the back of his door. He was dressed in baggy sweatpants, without a shirt on. Contently, he noticed that all the working out and life guarding he had done over the summer had paid off. He softly ran his palm over his developed abdomen, noting how tan his whole chest and arms were. Smiling slightly, he noticed that he was not longer able to see his face in the mirror. The growth spurt most boys in school had had when they were eleven or twelve had waiting until this past summer to take hold of Gordo. He now stood at a striking five foot ten. He leaned down to inspect his face. Nothing different there, except a little less baby fat and a little more hair. Lizzie had spent half the summer trying to convince him to cut his hair. Apparently, it would be more mature, more high school if it was shorter. He did not really care what was more mature or more high school. He liked his hair; it suited him.
He crossed the room to where an acoustic guitar sat in the corner, behind a music stand filled with music sheets. Sitting on the floor, Indian style, he began to strum the strings softly. He played some of the chords of John Mayer's "Quiet," humming quietly along with it. Part way through, a deep, but soft, voice sang out one of the lines, "I can't seem to find, the quiet inside, my mind." Another change had come over Gordo that summer. His voice had deepened to a smooth baritone.
Gordo placed his guitar back against the wall, and walked over to the window again. The rainstorm had slowed to a soft drizzle. Leaning his head against the cool window pane, he sighed quietly.
"I can't seem to find, the quiet inside, my mind."
**A/N: John Mayer owns "Quiet." If you've never heard it and like John Mayer, I suggest picking up his self-released album "Inside Wants Out."