January 01, 2003
old journal two: review
I should probably be writing some kind of "Hey, it's a new year, let's look back at 2002 to see how it was" entry. Well, I'll get to that after I've had time to absorb the fact that it's 2003.
At any rate: on to Undated, Untitled Entry Found Folded In Half And Stuck In Book.
Sometimes I really wonder where I fit in.
I really hope I don't start all my entries like this.
In fifth grade, I was basically "Little Miss Genius," but this year my grades took a nosedive.
I was. In elementary school, I was known mostly for being an intellectual geek. And they did. In sixth grade, within the first report card, I'd gotten my first B, C, and F.
I can't draw all too well,
I learned to draw in eighth grade. Strangely enough for someone going to art school now.
I'm not very pretty (by standard), popular, or bold, I don't have a boyfriend or even want one (except one person, no name)
*giggle* I remember who it was. Heh.
I'm in band. Big deal. Soccer? No one cares. Clayworking? No one knows. Poetry? That either. Singing? Acting? Stage fright. I dress like a tomboy (not good), I'm kinda shy about some things (worse) and everyone thinks I have no friends (I do, but my schedule is light-years away from theirs, so I never see them anymore). I listen to alternative when pop is "in," I'm a brunette surrounded by ditzy blondes (even my sister)
In case no one's noticed, I have... issues... about my older sister.
long- and straight-haired surrounded by wavy and short hair... in short, I'm doing everything wrong. With all that, I've taken to using music as an escape. I played piano, but quit, play oboe, listen to the radio every spare minute, and I'm working for a guitar.
I got the guitar. Lessons were another story. I still can't play it.
I think the reason I like music is that I'm a creature of rhythm. I run by my own schedule, dance to the beat of a different drum, a.k.a. I thrive on rhythm.
-end-
This was an unusually pensive entry for that time period. Most of mine were angry and angsty.
At any rate: on to Undated, Untitled Entry Found Folded In Half And Stuck In Book.
Sometimes I really wonder where I fit in.
I really hope I don't start all my entries like this.
In fifth grade, I was basically "Little Miss Genius," but this year my grades took a nosedive.
I was. In elementary school, I was known mostly for being an intellectual geek. And they did. In sixth grade, within the first report card, I'd gotten my first B, C, and F.
I can't draw all too well,
I learned to draw in eighth grade. Strangely enough for someone going to art school now.
I'm not very pretty (by standard), popular, or bold, I don't have a boyfriend or even want one (except one person, no name)
*giggle* I remember who it was. Heh.
I'm in band. Big deal. Soccer? No one cares. Clayworking? No one knows. Poetry? That either. Singing? Acting? Stage fright. I dress like a tomboy (not good), I'm kinda shy about some things (worse) and everyone thinks I have no friends (I do, but my schedule is light-years away from theirs, so I never see them anymore). I listen to alternative when pop is "in," I'm a brunette surrounded by ditzy blondes (even my sister)
In case no one's noticed, I have... issues... about my older sister.
long- and straight-haired surrounded by wavy and short hair... in short, I'm doing everything wrong. With all that, I've taken to using music as an escape. I played piano, but quit, play oboe, listen to the radio every spare minute, and I'm working for a guitar.
I got the guitar. Lessons were another story. I still can't play it.
I think the reason I like music is that I'm a creature of rhythm. I run by my own schedule, dance to the beat of a different drum, a.k.a. I thrive on rhythm.
-end-
This was an unusually pensive entry for that time period. Most of mine were angry and angsty.
# posted by Liadan @ 6:18 PM 
