April 20, 1997 Sunday
I have been home for less than ten minutes, and here I am, in front of this McIntosh LC II. Sometimes I wonder if a tumor is developing in me because of this thing.
This day was a lot of fun. Sidney and I went to Peoria in the afternoon. It started off slowly, and then ended on a high note. Let me explain.
Around a quarter ’til one Sidney called again. We decided to go to Landmark Cinema and see a movie. She came by around two-thirty, and on the way in to town she talked about her birthday yesterday (Again, you’re welcome. I don’t know I did it–I just thought of flowers and said, “Yeah, that’s what I want to do”). She said her mom hadn’t told her about the flowers waiting for her when she arrived home, and just discovered them herself. She was immensely surprised, and quite curious why I would do it. When we arrived at Landmark, we went bowling (Maybe bowling is more fun with a larger group). She beat me both times we played. She’s pretty good, but the pins were biased.
We needed a break from the non-stop blast we were having, so we went to Steak n’ Shake before going to the movie (these putdowns are purely self-directed and , I believe, highlight that today seemed a little different for me, different than walking down the school halls or the usual cafeteria conversation. I’m showing I was having a hard time opening up in a sense, and very much wanted to relax. And soon I did). We were done with forty-five minutes before the movie started, so I suggested we go to Willow Knolls and see it there.
The movie was Anaconda. I HATE SNAKES! The movie wasn’t that bad, but the entire time I also couldn’t forget the snake was a computer generation. Anaconda was worth seeing, but Sidney was more scared than I was.
It was after the movie that Sidney showed me the nearby former neighborhood and house. It was interesting yet surreal to see this other side of her I never knew. It is like she has lived several different lives, each with different people, interacting in completely different settings. I got the feeling that moving from one place to another was not a pleasant reality for her. My own reality of one long, unbroken setting leaves me wondering how I would react to moving. I wouldn’t mind seeing new people and experiencing new places, but to leave behind everything that you were accustomed to? It has to be hard. I would be constantly asking myself how the people I left behind were doing and getting along. That’s what I’ll be doing in a few months too, I know, but college is different. College is something I’ve seen coming, and prepared for, and chosen for myself. Also, because everyone else in my class is doing the same thing, for most part –leaving–I wouldn’t feel like I was missing out on what everybody else was doing and experiencing together.
We then stopped at a local snack shop Sidney would ride her bike to for ice cream. As we ate there outside, holding my own ice cream, and sharing a batch of jalapeno poppers, we talked about our class Mexico trip from two years ago, and European trip to Spain in a month, and other assorted knickknacks of knowledge.
On the way back to my house she asked my why I had gotten the roses. It could have been because of the surprise. It could have been because I wanted something fun to look forward to her getting. It could have also been because it sounded like a nice thing to do? We also talked about memories of different things. She said she was finally over Lance (all but his eyes). She then basically asked me why I didn’t like him. Well, it isn’t that I dislike him. I am really having a hard time, even now as I sit here, coming to the right thing to say, while being honest. Lance isn’t really that bad, but I can’t hold in high regard a very smart person that makes fun of others that might be “beneath” him. I don’t really know what to make of this quiet, brooding style, who can also instantly make a brilliant or brilliantly cutting remark. I’d like to pitch, or play baseball in general, as well as he can. So he intimidates me some. Again, there’s nothing majorly wrong with Lance, but he’s not my best friend, and will not be. He’s just one of those people I let “be.”
I have to go now. My dog Lindsie needs to be fed. I had a lot of fun, really, and thanks for going with me. I just wonder what you are writing. Thanks for the new journal pages. Finally I have something of value to read in French. Stop reading now. The following is just another one of those stupid endings you detest (You call it “dumb.” I call it writing with wit and creativity).