Shouting the Poetic Truths of High School Journal Keepers

April 9, 1994

2006-04-09T08:18:00.000-07:00

Yesterday marked too important events in the grand scheme of life. For starters, it was Shanna's birthday. Secondly, and probably more importantly (though not to take anything away from Shanna), NIRVANA lead singer Kurt Cobain (which is an anagram for "ROCKIN' TUBA") was found dead in his home, an apparent suicide. This is not something that you can just hear & brush off like most celebrity deaths, because most celebrity deaths occur when the star already lived most of his/her life, or in the rare case of, say, River Phoenix, who died last fall of a drug overdoes, well ... I don't think he meant as much, at least to me, as someone like Cobain. I find it ironic that in the Jan 27, 1994, issue of Rolling Stone, the interview with Cobain makes the following remarks:

"he's never been happier in his life"
"his life is pretty good. And getting better."
"I'm a much happier guy than a lot of people think I am"
"every month, I come to more optimistic conclusions"

Jesus, and nobody realizes this. While listening to In Utero last night and the Katherine Johns ¹ WLS-AM talk show on Generation X, it became obvious that everyone thought of Cobain as (as he put it) "this pissy, complaining freaked-out schizophrenic who wants to kill himself all the time." And sure, he had a heroin addiction (due mostly to his stomach ailments) and he was uncomfortable with fame, but this isn't how he was all the time. I mean, he got married (to Courtney Love, of the band Hole) and had a daughter (Frances Bean) and as the interview indicates, was finally beginning to piece his life together. I was looking forward to a new Nirvana album, which Cobain envisioned as "pretty, ethereal, acoustic, like R.E.M.'s last album." He was recovering from his addiction ... that is, until early last month, when he fell into a two-day coma in Rome by overdosing on some Italian drug ² & champagne. And, of course, just days ago, it was announced that Nirvana wouldn't perform at Lollapalooza '94 ... that seems fairly obvious now. So I suppose he has been falling back into his past life recently. But it just seems like so many people don't understand the real, complex Kurt Cobain. I don't admit to being a huge Nirvana fan, but I think that I understand better than most.³ It was just such a tragic shock...
-JMC 11:05 AM

1 sic: The WLS host's first name was Catherine. What's most interesting to me about this part of the entry is how, in the pre-Internet days, the first place I turned for instant discussion and analysis was talk radio, where the perspective was understandably skewed. Man, I would've loved an online community that night.

2 Huh?

3 Okay, so here's the really weird thing about this entry: how did I really "understand" Kurt Cobain? Because I read a Rolling Stone interview with him three months before he died? I mean, I seem to be pretty frustrated with the mainstream media, but the position I'm coming from is the only-slightly-less mainstream media. And since I really wasn't a huge Nirvana fan -- I mean, as a 15-year-old burgeoning rock fan, I owned both Nevermind and In Utero, naturally, but they weren't like my favorite band or anything -- reading this entry makes me cynically speculate that the emotional effect Cobain's death had on me was just so media-influenced. I think I really wanted to identify with Generation X (I'd read the Coupland book, seen Reality Bites, etc.) -- despite being on the tail end of it (most demographers don't extend Gen X past 1981) -- and so the effect of Kurt's suicide was more symbolic than genuinely emotional: "This is my generation's hero, you adults don't understand." I'd never had anyone I could've said that about, and it probably made my life seem important.

April 6, 1992

2006-04-06T16:32:00.000-07:00

MICHIGAN vs. DUKE or DUKE vs. MICHIGAN -- take your pik!¹ -- (Hint: They're the same) Baseball starts today w/ the CINCINNATI Reds taking on the Padres of the city of San Diego You've gotta admit both teams have improved - The Padres solidified (What a cool word) their infield & the Reds did the same w/ pitching & outfield. So, the Sox play 2morrow vs. CALIFORNIA -- I wuz reading the TV guide -- Hell, what else am I gonna do -- I wuz bored -- And on Tuesday on the CBS Schoolbreak Special or whatever the hell it's called -- They have this show called - "Different Worlds: A Story of Interracial Love" -- Hey, U know I'm taping -- It sez - two high school students who witness a murder during a robbery form an immediate bond, but their different cultures, blah blah -- God I hope it's a white guy & a black girl!²
-JMC 12:28

I'm here at lunch talking to Steve and Plato, which is actually Aar0n M@rsh under an assumed name. That's fine and good, but now I've got to go.
JMC 12:54

This is science -- Salv1a Sm1th's mom is our substitute -- I wuz at Chris T0desc0's hourse on Saturday cuz he had this confirmation party -- only 4 people showed up -- I wuz playing some of my songs!³ -- I played "Bohemian Rhapsody" & Michael & Ian were like, "What is this?" & I say, "BOHEMIAN RHAPSODY - QUEEN, #9, 1976, #24, 1992"⁴ They were cracking up -- Michael told me his favorite group was Boyz II Men, at least he's listening to pop music ⁵ -- What else? Probably nothing -- This VCR - $129 or NUTTIN'⁶
-JMC 1:42

1 My pick was Michigan, because I liked the Fab Five and couldn't stand Duke, who seemed just as spoiled as the New York Yankees later in the decade. (Two years prior, after a screening of Joe Vs. the Volcano on my birthday, it was announced that Duke had beaten UConn in the quarterfinals, and my friends proceeded to mock me by singing "Duke of Earl" in the car on the way home (wtf).) The whole week before the 1992 final, my 8th-grade English teacher wrote "Go Duke!" on the chalkboard -- I think she had a son who'd gone there -- which I would try to erase, along with the kids who altered her daily "P.M.A." (Positive Mental Attitude) reminder on the other side of the board by substituting an "S" for the "A."

2 It wasn't. As hinted in other entries, I was obsessed around this time with interracial romance and especially with white male/black female pairs, triggered by a dream that I had in 7th grade in which I kissed an African American girl in the school boiler room.

3 I don't know what "played my songs" means -- most likely, I brought a cassette tape with songs I'd taped off the radio, although part of me wondered at first if I'd sat down at the piano at Chris's house.

4 By this point, I was an inveterate chart-watcher. By the way, the song actually made it all the way to #2 on the Hot 100 in 1992 when all was said and done, propelled by its iconic appearance in the Wayne's World movie. It was deeply weird to hear it every night on the B96 countdown, next to the usual dance-pop tracks the station generally favored -- as if Queen were this total one-hit-wonder novelty band.

5 This is an interesting reaction to me, because on one hand, "pop music" can be seen as sort of lowest common denominator, what you listen to when you're not adventurous enough to seek anything else out, since all you have to do is turn on the radio. But clearly as a 13-year-old, I felt like my pop-culture savvy elevated me above the out-of-touch nerds I hung out with. A sense of coolness at that age was still dictated by mainstream culture: you're either with it or you're not.

6 Probably parroting some long-forgotten TV commercial.

October 20, 19961

2005-10-20T08:18:00.000-07:00

There's something strange about writing in a moving vehicle: sometimes, if there's too much turbulence or a bump in the road, the writing suffers appearance-wise & you begin to think it's not worth it in the first place. Regardless, I shall try my first entry on a train tonight, as a necessary commentary on my first trip home from Kalamazoo... I stepped out into the Lisle Metra station parking lot Friday night at 8:22 PM Central time to find my brother motioning me over to the '95 Mercury. The train here was nothing special; I spent much of the time reading Henry Louis Gates' Colored People for C, R & E ², and only when I saw the images of Ron Magers & Carol Marin (WMAQ-TV anchors) on the Union Station walls, and the TIVOLI theatre marquee at the Downers Grove Metra stop did I start to feel the incipient pangs of weirdness. But getting into that green wagon of ours set my mind racing: I was finally home. Before I left, too, Gail Gr!ff!n ³ had said to me, "Remember: home is a black-and-white Kansas" or some such thing, making an effective Wizard of Oz allusion -- but I wasn't about to let any pessimism stand in the way of progress. I peeked my head in my bedroom: how low my bed was! How bare, too, the place looked, strangely proportioned; quite familiar, but still odd. I sat at the kitchen table with the family, eating cereal (special care was taken to select a kind that Marriott would never have: Blueberry Morning won out) and running my mouth about all my classes, etc. Set my fingers down on the piano & remarked on the fact that it was still painfully out-of-tune, as always, but still retained a certain charm. "Someone to Watch Over Me" was opened before my eyes, as it was when I left it.

After all the preliminaries described as above, I asked for the car keys & at 9:52 or so, headed off to Bolingbrook High School, where my Homecoming date & countless other friendly souls would be, decorating for the night to come. The night road was weird: driving, for one, was an activity I had not partaken in for a month's time, though it was hardly forgotten. The best phrase that I could apply to the experience was "eerily familiar" -- like the Boughton/Rte. 53 stoplight I slowed down at was for the millionth time; and yet there was some detachment with it, some sense that I simply shouldn't have been there. My mind daydreamed to Joe Hill ⁴ cast members, and these thoughts, experienced while turning onto Blair Ln., created a strange juxtaposition of sorts. Alexia would make the comment later, in reference to herself, but more eloquently put than anything I've said (more concisely, more like): "I feel like I'm leading a double life." Exactly. Anyway, when I entered the door, there was Paul W3bst3r, Jas0n Cud3bec, & ~~Mandy Z3ppi3ri~~ (what the fuck -- I just wrote Zippy) J0hn Wr1ght, the recently coronated Homecoming King -- which meant, then, that the plan worked out & my very own date, Miss Kr1st1ne Emi Pr0v0 ⁵, was Homecoming Queen 1996! I was so happy for her -- it was such a breath of fresh air for two honors students to be royalty & I made such a comment upon seeing her & hugging her, for the first time in 3 weeks. Well, as it turned out, she was being quite busy with the various decorations & I ended up chatting w/ Jase for a majority of the 20 mins. I was there, before the custodial staff kicked everyone out. It was okay with me: we'd have plenty of time the next day, I figured, although her seeming lack of interest in my presence left me feeling less than satisfied.

When I came home, I soaked up this "new" environment in which I now found myself & called Stace to see if she wanted to possibly go to the game on Saturday. Of course, we talked for longer than for just that -- 2 1/2 hours, as it turned out, but even though she said her seeing me was possible, the conversation was somewhat undesirable. She talked about Hyles-Anderson, I talked about Kalamazoo, and back & forth just like that, till I began to think, "I'm at home now -- I just DON'T want to think about college" -- but at this point, it was the common denominator ... I fell asleep in my own bed that night and worke up in a still, quiet, light-filled room, myself the only occupant. I was awake at 9:30 am, and though I knew I had missed the parade (or would miss it, unless I drove over right away in my PJ's!), I went over to school an hour later, anyway & chatted w/ Chr1s Carl3y, Julie Dus3k, Diane Br3ining3r & other such folk about matters of trivial importance. Fast forward now to the game -- the first ever varsity football game at BHS these eyes have ever seen -- and though Stace had called me at home to say she couldn't make it, I felt somewhat glad, in light of the fact that Kristine would be there & the circumstances might be awkward. Plus, I was sitting next to Adam & Alexia, hardly poor company to be in -- it felt like the Comiskey Park trip the three of us had gone on this past June, where the actual action on the field took a backseat to whatever gossip & conversation we had in our seats. Midway through the 2nd quarter, I ventured down to where Kristine, as drum major, was standing; we exchanged some polite conversation & I met her Japanese grandmother, "Bachan" (a nickname, I gather). Arrangements for the night were made after BHS's 44-0 victory over Reavis; we hadn't actually had a good chance to sit down & talk, but that's what I figured I was spending the night at her house for -- and I was, too, Barb having suggested it all, and my parents allowing it, albeit grudgingly at first.

So this begins the section of the entry devoted to the Homecoming dance, a godawful roller coaster of emotions for yours truly -- and you'll understand the reasons shortly. Kristine showed no signs of ignoring me initially: the pictures taken at each of our houses went well; we were each cordial with the other's parents & in a generally good mood. "This is it," I said, as we walked into BHS, she in her simple but elegant black dress, hair styled up, cool shoes, my wrist corsage carefully placed on her arm. (I wore a grayish dress shirt, burgundy & silver-striped tie & slacks) "It's Homecoming!" -- as if to suggest that what we had been waiting for for the last month was finally here & wasn't life great? She kind of nodded and kept quiet, though I knew she had a lot on her mind as chair of the dance committee, so I didn't make a fuss about it. She had her picture taken w/ Mr. Wright, and when the rest of the students poured forth into the Commons, I took my place next to her in preparation for the danceable fun I was soon to have with her.

The first person I became jealous of was Collin, energetically sweating & bumping with my date, his hair all loose & shaking down his face. Granted, I'm not the type to "get all into it" like he is, but she didn't have to seem like she was enjoying his risque moves -- especially, and this is what initially bothered me, especially when any dancing she did with me around lacked any specific eye contact or smile. She'd glance around, looking for Aimee, or suddenly walk off to talk to J3yne Ladag@, making me feel like some stranger who had merely chosen to occupy the same spot on the dance floor with her. What was up? I came here feeling proud that I was escorting the queen & yet nobody would've ever known I was her date if they saw us together. Meanwhile, since I don't know but a select group of students at BHS now -- my own class having graduated -- feeling close to someone was of dire importance, lest I find myself leaning up against the wall, all alone. A slow song was announced & I looked in her direction, assuming that it was assumed, and instead received a worried-ish look on her face, her asking, "Do you ... want to dance?" Well, fuck yeah -- isn't that the point after a month of talking about it? We weren't even that close either: I glanced around & saw Aimee's arms arond Joe's (R0senmay3r) shoulders; Kristine's hands lightly touched me. Needless to say, I was feeling disappointed. But still only that.

It wasn't until the next slow song came on & I see her already on the dance floor with her head buried in Russ M3i3r's (14-year-old freshman brother of Megan) shoulder, then dancing to the subsequent dance with her hand taking a hold of his, and his sad eyes looking into his that I said, "There's something going on. What the fuck is going on?" "Everything okay?" I said, as I tried to make eye contact with my "date." She nodded, unsmilingly, and said softly, "Yeah." What bullshit. I danced with Aimee in the meantime, confessing my feelings to her & comforted somewhat by her support: "She's acting very bitchy tonight" the trumpeter ⁶ said. I hinted at my frustration with bits of sarcasm directed at Jase, Kaci B!ddle, St3phanie Dy, Chris, etc., and still no acknowledgment made on her part of me OR my feelings; she was occupied, talking to Russ about God-knows-what, something that looked very serious, though, by the forlorn expressions on both of their faces. At one point, they disappeared: I was stuck on the sidelines with her camera in my pocket, about the only thing it seemed I was good for, and about ready to cry, went on a mad hunt for the two. Finding them by the ticket table, I hovered around her until it was obvious I was invisible & proceeded to slump down in front of the Pepsi machine, a sorry sorry case. Stephanie lured me back up, and no longer wanting/able to feel sorry for myself lingering around the choir room, as I had been, saying hi to Dave G0nzal3z as Kat!e $zum walked up, without anyone to show off for my own -- I went straight to Kristine and asked the same question: "Everything okay?" ... and got the same response. "I almost feel like I should leave," said I, wallowing in misery. "What's going on?" "Nothing" she said twice. Knowing ths was a lie, I said, "At least tell me that you can't tell me" -- and she did just that. Responding to my first comment, she inquired, "Well, do you want to leave?" "No," I said weakly. "I want to be here with you. But ... do you want to be here with me?" Thoughts in my head of me trying to take her hand while going to fetch her tiara, she shrinking back & almost pushing me ahead ... "Yes," she replied, "but... (a squinting of her eyes, a shrug of her shoulders, a biting of her lips) ... (and then:) I think I'll go dance by Joe."

I felt like I was in a Seinfeld episode, like when George says to his date, "I love you" & she replies, "I'm hungry; let's get something to eat." Everything was beyond all hope; I could no longer even dance with anyone and had to pull Aimee aside to tell her what had just happened. Slowly, the truth was revealed: "I kept telling her to say something to you about it," Aimee said, the "it" being the loss of feelings Kristine had for me in the last week, to be replaced by those for Russ. "So what about tonight?" I asked angrily. "Am I going to Salerno's?⁷ Am I still spending the night?" -- I apologized then for my huffiness, and on Aimee's suggestion, went up to Kristine yet once more in an effort to work everything out, find some answers, etc. This time, she was willing to speak and revealed the same information I had already heard, us sitting down finally at a table in the back. Unsurprisingly, it was much more painful coming from her lips, and I put my head in my hands in grief. She'd always said he was a great guy, Russ, but I never caught on; she asked me earlier that week if I thought things were awkward & I brushed it off; slowly, all of her little behaviors from the previous evening were beginning to make sense: she was avoiding me because she didn't know how to break the news to my heart...

"So," I said, "am I still spending the night?" "Don't you think it would be awkward?" she asked. (This after another exchange: "Do you hate me?" said she; "I could never hate you" said I. "Are we still really cool friends?" said she; "Yeah" was my optimistic reply) And so I didn't quite understand why staying at her house was no longer an option. Believe me, I despised her behavior at the dance -- actively pursuing the interests of another guy while your own date sits idly by is not only tacky, it's cruel -- but now the dance was over & I was ready to accept this new role in her life. We didn't talk at all during clean-up; Russ was still around actually, and I found out that the gist of those serious-looking conversations was that she wanted him to come to Salerno's w/us, but he had to be home by midnight... But while I went around collecting various decorations from the Commons floor, I took on a strange calm: It was simply bad timing, I said. This will be good in the long run, I said. For chrissakes, we were never anything in the first place and why should it be my place to care who she likes now? Never mind that she betrayed me; I remained -- or tried to be, at least -- positive-thinking. With Russ having to be home early, Kristine thought it best to go with him in Aimee's car so as to be with him when he got dropped off on the way to Salerno's. Whatever. But since I just wasn't about to drive there alone, I hopped in the backseat of Chris' 87 Chevy, Sara Rich@rd (his date) in shot-gun & left any car behind.

The ride was therapeutic: I bounced my feelings off Chris & Sara, both of whom were supportive & sympathetic, and arrived at the restaurant having reached the final stage of those "4 Stages After Receiving Bad News": acceptance. (I think the other 3 are anger, denial & fear, and though I can't say I was ever afraid ... well, no, I take that back, I'm sure some sort of sinking sadness can be classified as such ... shows you how much a Simpsons episode can teach you: it was the one where Homer ate the poisonous fugu fish at the sushi bar & had 24 hours to live -- coincidentally, K.P. mentioned this episode in an e-mail once) Kris put her arm around me and said, "Is everything cool?" and I said "Yeah." What I was feeling for sure then, I'm not sure, but I wanted to believe everything was okay, and the fact that she initiated te question (and physical contact) put me at ease. We sat ourselves in perfect order at a round table for six (each of us both next to our dates & our next closest friends: me w/ Chris; Aimee w/ Kristine; Joe w/ Sara -- fellow juniors the latter couple are) and talked freely, bubbly, a good prompt meal & comfortable conversation. I was glad. Kristine was exhausted and therefore slap-happy; with my jacket draped over her bare shoulders, she giggled profusely over a bowl of soup & looked ilke a little old woman, the way her face gets scrunched up when she laughs. And it was with this same expression on her that I asked Kristine, as we walked out the door, what the final decision was. Things were looking promising already: though she said, "You don't think it will be queerish?" when I expained that I thought we needed time to try on our new romance-deemphasized relationship, instead of me abruptly leaving with an image of her in my head as a heartbreaker (though I didn't mention this last part, just as I didn't say anything cynical like I could have: "Guess you just have a thing for red-haired tubists, huh?" OR "I should've believed everyone who's said you screw people over"⁸), she consented, and we moved into Aimee's car for the ride home, during which she slept soundly.

The drive from the BHS parking lot to 649 C0chise was equally quiet; upon walking into her bedroom, Kristine fell flat on the bed, dead tired, and Barb & I had to remove bobby pins from the girl's hair. Only when we both got changed into our pajamas and curled up onto her bed, though, did she become for me again the Kr!st!ne Pr0v0 I know and love. It was as if nothing had changed: we laughed and talked and behaved no differently than I expected us to have, regardless of what happened earlier. Or maybe even if I had mused on how cool it would have been to really be close to her that night, the fact that she was so comfortable with me again, encouraging me to lie down next to her instead of merely sitting (when a few hours earlier I was invisible to ther eyes) made me forget that anything more was possible. I was satisfied once more, and I was happy. Things were clarified, too, and as we each crawled under our covers (I was in her soft bed; she in a sleeping bag on the floor), I felt good (such an empty statement, I know). This morning, Barb made us pancakes from scratch; we showered and had coffee and gossiped about Homecoming outfit no-no's (I was with 2 females, you have to understand). And when I said goodbye at 1 PM or so, she treated me to a beautiful, close friendship hug.

The next few hours I spent at home, feeling that same sense of weirdness that had occupied my being on Friday night and which had been wonderfully absent on Saturday & Sunday morning (this morning, I now realize) as so much was going on (at one point in Salerno's, I came to the startling realization that I was in college & none of the rest of my party was)... And as I sat down for a lasagna dinner courtesy my dad, my appetite disappeared again, the same ache arose from within my stomach, not so much lovesick anymore, but the pain one gets when he leaves behind a truly wonderful friend.⁹
-JMC 10:31 PM

1 Part of the reason why this entry seemed like a good and interesting one with which to start this blog back up again is that in the last few weeks I've gone back to visit Bolingbrook High School and Kalamazoo College and have had to deal with the dissonance of both these past lives with my current life in Chicago.

Also, NB: there were no paragraph breaks in the original entry, but I added some here to make it easier to read.

2 "Class, Race, and Ethnicity," my first sociology class at Kalamazoo, one of several classes I took taught by B0b Stauff3r.

3 Gr!ff!n taught my first-year writing seminar, the topic of which was "No Place Like Home." She was also my advisor, senior-thesis director, and favorite college professor, hands down.

4 A new, original play about the early 20th-century labor leader produced at K College during my freshman fall. I played two roles: the country doctor and Pres. Woodrow Wilson (hott pince-nez action!).

5 Since I haven't yet posted any of the build-up to the events described herein, a brief summary is probably helpful here. A mere week before I left for college, I went out a couple of times with K.P., since most of my friends had already departed for school and she was still a senior. It was the first time we'd really hung out one-on-one, and both of us felt an immediate connection. During my first month in Michigan, we e-mailed every day and talked on the phone regularly, and she even came up to visit one weekend after apple-picking in St. Joseph with her dad and stepmom. Long story short, I had totally fallen for her. Before I went away in September, she asked me if I would be her date for Homecoming. Of course, I said yes.

6 Aimee played trumpet in the band; she's now the BHS band director.

7 Some pizza place, I guess. That night was the only time I've been there.

8 Both references to my friend Jay J0rdan, whose relationship with K.P. I first mentioned here. (It is odd that he and Russ were both red-haired tubists, though.)

9 Oh boy. Some of this entry is painful to read because I can see how my behavior has repeated itself at other times in my life -- i.e., someone I'm close to hurts me, I refuse to hate them, and even still cling to them to preserve as much intimacy in the relationship as I can. This notion that K.P. and I are going to be great friends in the future is obviously delusional, one drunken night in Scotland two years later notwithstanding. (Ha.)

March 8, 1993

2005-03-08T06:22:00.000-08:00

Well, well. Where has the time gone? It is now 10 o'clock pm. Actually 10:03 but who really gives a damn? Ron Magers is enticing us to watch the rest of the news by offering a special health report on second-hand smoke. The last time I wrote this late was last March, in fact, when Bill Clinton "won a slew of primaries," my words. So, anyways, it sez in my last entry that I should write about Shanna 2day, but I think I would've written anyway. Don't U? How would U know? Actually, I think she is kinda replacing Stacie, if U know what I mean. Numero uno. U may be shocked at this, but I've kinda liked her for a while. Talk amongst yourselves. See, in theatre 2day, we all got up on stage to practice our monologues, and she was standing right next to me, so we were talking about how non-verbals have no point and other meaningless things. In fact, U were probably just about 2 say "Boy, that sure is meaningless", but the whole thing w/ Danielle started w/us talking about my Wendell cartoons (that seems weird spelled -- "Wendell" -- since I am used 2 Arrested Development's "Mr Wendal" song)

I even had the same feeling with her today as I did with Danielle, talking like that, looking into her hazel eyes. Actually, Danielle's eyes are brown; Shanna's are hazel, to clear up the controversy ... Well, I don't know, I just thought I'd tell U. More will come later. I don't think this time sets the record, but I wanna see the rest o' the news.
--JMC 10:22 pm

March 5, 1993

2005-03-05T22:00:00.000-08:00

On March 30, 1993, at precisely 9:40 pm, our beloved President William Jefferson Clinton will have been President for exactly 100,000 minutes. One-hundred THOUsand minutes. That's right: extend the pronunciation of THOU. It should be two times as long as "sand". I'm planning on calling Becky R0senmayer to remind her of this fact, but first, I shall write. CAST LIST for A One-Act Play: JOHN CUNN!NGHAM---Tom Hanks, DANIELLE TH0MAS---Tisha Campbell, STEVE K0VEN---Jason Alexander, MRS BUTTERWORTH---Angela Lansbury, CAJUN MAN---Adam Sandler, DELIVERY MAN---Rob Schneider, MRS GAWL!K---Bea Arthur, R0NTAYA BA!LEY---Halle Berry, JIM---Charles Kimbrough, GARY---Grant Shaud, VOICE---James Earl Jones, TED KOPPEL---Dana Carvey. That's all I have so far. I think it's an excellent cast. Moviegoers will flock to it in herds. It will be produced by Larry David, producer of Seinfeld. I should also add that Jerry Seinfeld and Tony Randall play themselves. So, what else is new? I argued with MR WILSON for almost the whole period yesterday, but I think it unnecessary commenting on since everything I sed on Wednesday is what I sed to him. I've been thinking that I'm not putting enough information in here, but the reality of it is that I might even be putting 2 much in, if there is such a thing. I just think about everything about my life that U don't know and I feel that I should put it all in. Like how my mom got a job two weeks ago. I mean this is big stuff cuz she was unemployed for like a year and a half. But I only tell U now. And at the same time, I ramble on about how Tenille Jacks0n is singing Bobby Brown songs which has virtually no significance whatsoever. What's with that? Well, I just had to get that off my chest so U don't think that stuff is my whole life. But I gotta go now. Let me put a reminder here that I need 2 talk about Shanna.
JMC 11:55 am

March 3, 1994

2005-03-03T21:57:00.000-08:00

I just finished reading a collection of disturbing poems and stories by Marie Rutk0ski. Very dark and deep and, like I said, disturbing. But why don't we begin on March 1st, 1994, approximately 3:00 PM, to start this story, when Scott Malz@hn (whose birthday, coincidentally was yesterday, March 2nd, along with Dan Gr@nt and Dan W0lfe) concluded his rendition of "Loch Lomond," the famous Scottish folktune. You see, when our pal Scott finished, it was Marie's turn to get up on stage and perform whatever she had to perform, because March is not only the month of her birth (March 9), it is also the month that she was selected to perform at the March 1st Thespian meeting. And that she did, reading three brief poems she composed herself, very powerful, especially her last one (and I have a copy with me now, so I know the title), "Black and White Photograph: Autumn Hanging, 1941." Marie introduced this piece by saying what inspired her to write this piece of what I call suicidal poetry, which is no way to be interpreted as something bad, because the people who write this haunting style (Karina Kramer-Sch3vers comes to mind) I admire very much because of this quality, and in no way are these people suicidal. But they write like it. I don't know; maybe I'm barking up the wrong tree here. So, anyways, I really loved the poetry and yesterday I began a poem of my own based on Marie and her poems and her personality and her verve (!). Or when she told me about how I could've been a preacher if I lived in the 19th century. I began it in Spanish class, which oddly enough, is where I do my best writing nowadays, (my Spanish notebook is chock full o' poems, plays, transcripts, etc.) and even more oddly enough, is where I am now, as Sra. Rosa comes around to check our homework, which I didn't do because we had play practice from 5-9 last nite, as we always do. So, anyways, as I'm thinking of an anagram of Marie's name in Mass Media, and as I finally title it "RIOT IS RUM KAKE" (Do you realize her name is made up of all five vowels?), Becky R0senthal, whom I have branded as my favorite person in the junior class, not including Brandon G0rte (Take it easy; I'm being "faaah-cetious," as Marilyn would say), comes up and says (I'm paraphrasing here) "What's that, John? A poem? Can I read it?" So I'm like, "well no, not really, it's not really done yet," even though it was. And Becky says, "So what's it about?" And I say it's about Marie, and she just about died because "Marie is my bestest friend in the world; I have to read it." And she bribed me with handwritten copies of Marie's three Thespian-read poems, so I couldn't refuse. Becky loved it. And she said she would show it to Marie. Okay, I guess. Fast-foward to 6:55 am, Thursday, March 3RD, 1994, a date that will be most remembered by me as the 2nd anniversary of my spat with Ryan over Danielle. ("Don't get demonic, John.") Marie approaches me before Sunrise and hugs me, whereupon she goes on about how she liked the poem, and would've liked it anyways even if it wasn't about her (if she was someone else?) like if she had read it in a book. She gave me some more of her work to read, which I did, as you already know, in English class. "But don't read it now," she said, because I had cast a glance down at the paper, just to look at it, I guess. We both felt kinda awkward, I suppose, after I reveal to her some things I've thought (in the poem, that is) and she tells me how she enjoyed it. Reminiscent of "Share a Garment Sea" and Wendie (see 7-22-93). Okay. So Marie & I haven't said anything since then (not as if we've had a chance to) but Becky beckons to me after 1st period, and tells me that even if Marie was acting kind of embarrassed (like I said, I think we both were), she (Becky) wanted to reassure me that (well, no reassure, because she never told me anything before then; how could she?) Marie was absolutely flattered and she did, in fact, as Becky did, love the poem. So that made me feel good. Just thought I'd share this story with you.
--JMC 11:12 am

March 2, 1996

2005-03-02T21:57:00.000-08:00

Think of the last few weeks in February as my sabbatical. And let's just leave it at that. But my friends, today I thought I must write because now -- this very instant -- I am (although I don't suppose I am very good at estimating) thousands of feet above ground level, and since you know I am not one to frequently volunteer w/ NASA, your next guess is right -- up up & away in a jet plane! I'm on the return trip (it's about 9:45 PM or whatever) from the beautiful, but oh-so-frigid Minneapolis/St Paul area, as I was this morning competing for a scholarship at Hamline University in the latter city. But don't jump the gun, muchachos. There's a 90% chance I won't be going there. At least I hope not. But as I was advised, I kept my options open -- and they still are, for the most part. Yeah, I'm so indecisive. But as you may have guessed, too, I am starting to narrow down the BIG EIGHT that once were (smallest to largest, by degree of latitude): Hamline, Macalester (St. Paul, too), Kalamazoo (MI, which I visited last weekend with my dad to compete for a writing scholarship -- some shit about Frankenstein I had to B.S. my way through -- but some otherwise pleasant experiences, like driving there at night on a fast highway listening to Herbie Hancock jazz & talking with a student over lunch whose name is now curiously forgotten** -- he was a swingin' fellow, though, reminiscent of several characters I've met over the years, including a boy named Jesse who works at Record Swap), U. of Iowa, Washington U. (in St. Louis, which looks like it's my current favorite -- but then I probably shouldn't have written that, should I? Not when I haven't even been accepted or gotten any money or -- Jesus, I'm hunched over this dining tray with a plastic cup of ginger ale & I feel like a sportswriter drinking gin & tonic at midnight, pecking away at his typewriter, smoking his cigar -- anyway ... it was unwise of me to have said that lest I disappoint myself), University of North Carolina @ Chapel Hill (or UNCCH, if you, like I do, prefer), Duke U. (hell of a long-shot -- there's one scholarship that I could possibly get, but if I don't, it's way out of our league), & last, and it might as well be least, too, since it's already out of the picture, Emory in Atlanta, to where I wasn't named a finalist in their Emory Scholar Program (made it somewhat easier on me, though, since the scholarship weekend was on one of the performance dates for the musical). That's without a doubt the most I have ever written in this book about my college plans; don't know why I've been so reluctant -- maybe cuz it would've been akin to talking about my family (although a) I'm not sure why, and b) I'm not sure why I don't like talking about them, either... -- not interesting enough? too embarrassing? hmmm....) I'm sure Kristy Rav3n has written reams about M.I.T. -- a whole page on the actual process of running to the mailbox & retrieving the envelope... but then again, I'm not Kristy. And even though I dearly love the girl, that's not necessarily a bad thing, either. -- JMC 10:35 pm (and right on-time too, for landing!)

March 1, 1995

2005-03-01T21:56:00.000-08:00

Today is Ash Wednesday, so I thought I'd ruminate on a few things before the night is through (it is quickly, my clock says, coming to an end). Becky, for one, is preoccupying my mind & has been since yesterday when she made her famous "it's not genetic -- it's a choice" remark which got me very much riled up that I was stewing over it all during dinner. And I wrote a poem last night to capitalize on my incense. Because I can't very well explain to her what I know for a fact. And Susan just laughs about it -- her own mother -- which to me is sad because it indicates views shared by parents, who of all people, should be steering their daughters clear of such ignorance (forgive the Ryan B@ttista-like vocabulary ... wait a minute -- how am I writing this now? I thought I didn't exist...). Good Lord, Becky -- if you only knew. But none of this matters because she has Steve, the perfect person in the whole goddamn world (Here, Sohail, I do swear), who makes us all look inferior. And he's cute & he's catholic & etc. And he agrees with her about statement made above, so I can't possibly be right at all. This has preoccupied me since 5 PM yesterday. She has continued today, saying that step aerobics is God's work -- and I don't know what to say because although it makes perfect sense when she explains it (it's a Lenten resolution), you still have to accept such notions as God, for example. And I think I'm a deist; that is, I believe that God created this world, but has left it in our hands. I'm not even sure about that -- because really, who's to say? Why can't the Bible have been a cruel hoax, written by a couple guys in Jerusalem with some good stories, seeing who will believe them. It's like Orson Welles' War of the World or some such thing. Why must this be true? And Stacie said this afternoon, as she explained her Baptist upbringing, that it's all a matter of faith. And I suppose that's true. But I am no less of a person because of my lack of it -- I know that much. I am content in my straying from Christianity. People like Becky I think I admire somewhat but am also confused by. To be able to sit there & say there is definitely a God & a Jesus Christ & to plan your life around such (to me) unclear ideas -- which she has -- I don't see how a rationally-minded person could agree with that without proof. It's one of those things that we are forced to accept without question: There is a God, end of sentence. And in closing (what an awful linear thought process!), I would like to say that this blue erasable pen, licorice-scented, gives me vivid flashbacks to sixth grade & Rita Cl3house. These pens are vastly underrated.
JMC 10:42 PM

February 28, 1994

2005-02-28T19:39:00.000-08:00

Today would be the last day of February, a month which set a record for February snowfall in the Chicago area. Tomorrow is March 1st, a day which besides being Ian E. Kinc@id's 16th birthday, is also Stacie's & my fourth monthaversary since there is no 29th of February (this is not a leap year, folks, although there was recently an Olympics, which concluded yesterday, in Lillehammer, Norway. Maybe, since we have not really discussed this international event, we could do a little examination so that my readers don't think that I have completely blown off this worldwide spectacle. FIGURE SKATING! Here is the final standings:

(GOLD) Oksana Baiul, UKRAINE
(SILVER) Nancy Kerrigan, USA
(BRONZE) Chen Lu, CHINA

Our blessed little sweetheart Tonya Harding ("That would be TONE-YA Harding," says Mark Elli0tt, native Kansan and dinner party host of mine this past Saturday. But of course Michel the Frenchman would probably pronounce it as such anyway because of his thick French accent. And Yolanda's voice was so smoker-like that ... well, she probably said TAHN-YA, too, but I really have no preference. Personally, I feel that if she (Harding) says "TAHNYA" then that's how its pronounced. I mean, that's what her parents named her; she's not an orphan like Oksana Baiul, the anorexic crying ballerina from the Ukraine, who probably wouldn't know whether her name is OK-sana or OKE-sana because her parents like died in a plane crash or something.) finished 8th because of the WORN SHOELACE INCIDENT. Boo-hoo. Then the Canadian girl had to skate. Canada's cool. I wish they won in something. I mean, like in short track or something, roller derby on ice. More Olympic coverage later.) So that's the way it is.
JMC 1:15 pm

February 27, 1995

2005-02-27T19:38:00.000-08:00

Here I am in my Crown Alloy phase, the title of the very pen I write with, having received it several months ago from my good friend Jason Cud3bec. It has an unfamiliar area code on it -- maybe it's best not knowing, just to wonder -- like the name of Alejandro's wife at ISSA (see Vol V ... July 1994). Alejandro reminds me of Juan Ramón Castiglian0, the Peruvian foreign exchange student who wears a lot of wool sweaters and is quite brilliant at the mathematics, always up at that chalkboard on John Wilson's beckon. Confused by the lovable lunch ladies serving of gyros a couple weeks ago... There is something, I think, to be said of courage. Such an admirable trait & it can get you far -- to have the courage to speak up & be able to get what you want, rather than sulking in the corner like a nobody. You're on top of the world. Once you have it, that is. Someone procure me a potion of courage relatively soon... Not that I'm particularly shy or anything -- because as revealed in some middle school counseling session with Theresa M0e -- I only "used to be shy" -- she got that out of me & I could tell she was proud of herself because that was her job. And many times, I'm quite outspoken. But that only allows me to function normally. How about going beyond the call of duty, John M Cunningh@m? That would be nice. But allow me to realize my limits, too. If my potion were to do that for me, I'd squeeze a couple of drops into my breakfast cereal or school lunch. It'd be a daily dose, like Katy's Advils & Bayers & the like just because of her arm -- which I'm sure hurts like the devil -- but she knew that, dammit, when she gave blood. Stop bitching to all of us. She's becoming quite annoying & Mr Schuli3n doesn't like her, either. Maybe all of her pomp & circumstance is only relative to Stacie, who is usually quite sullen & spaced out come the end of the day -- but that's also due to a low chemistry grade. The truth is I think it's the people & her surroundings -- because we're fine alone -- she just gets sick of the noise & overactive students like Collin... That's my theory, leastwise... What did EJ say? That Stacie must have "waves of vacillation"? Over the Ryan incident, as I wrote about that for my district writing test... (Rola: "Aren't you & Ryan really good friends?") He got a haircut today. Mr Schuli3n said his beard looked fake. He looks less scruffy, Ryan does. Anyway, enough of that, lest I get overly hung up on it. Maybe I should have gone to see "Hoop Dreams" tonight, as there was a free screening of the Academy Award-snubbed film at North Central College, complete with chat w/ Frederick Marx, filmmaker. I had little homework & I spent the evening watching "Murphy Brown," addressing Thespian newsletters (the way I like them -- birthdays included, to be sure), and staring at the sample JETS test in preparation for Saturday's big event. But may the Good Lord come down & bless us with a beautiful four-day weekend, as they are certainly rare in this day & age. And God bless the superintendent... (never done anything to cause my disapproval) -- JMC 9:37 PM

February 26, 1992

2005-02-26T19:37:00.000-08:00

Only four months til Steve's birthday -- And I don't even know what 2 get. I was thinking on the bus today -- for I don't know what reason -- what I should write in Danielle's yearbook if she asks me to -- But Golly, that's almost as long as Steve's birthday -- I hope I could get a picture of her or something -- I don't know -- Steve says I should ask Danielle out on Friday -- I should ask her out soon before she starts going out w/ someone else -- or worse yet, starts going out w/ Marcus again -- Oh god -- Can't think of anything to say -- I got the new top 10, though -- I can't fill you in til Friday --
JMC 9:22 am

I was coming back from lunch, going to Mr. W@llin's room. Steve & I were talking (Hey, he gained two on Danielle already today) [See 2-25] Oh well, so Steve went into industrial arts and Danielle & some other girl were talking and then I passedby to go to Mr. W@llin's room and she kinda looked at me & whispered something to the girl, and so then the girl smiled & looked at me -- So I (being the mind-reader that I am) figured, "Hey! Danielle said something about me." And I know I'm right -- it's just what did she say? -- JMC 1:44

February 25, 1992

2005-02-25T19:37:00.000-08:00

Mrs. G@wlik's still a bitch, but she really didn't do anything recently except for telling me to turn around in my seat -- actually, she thinks I was talking to Steve, but thats really comfortable & plus, its easy to get a glance at Danielle. Oh well -- Steve started a journal, too -- it's actually patterned after mine, but what the hell do I care. Mrs. G@wlik doesn't even do anything this period -- she jus' sez do your homework or read a book -- which is good, I guess, but that's really not what we're supposed to do -- Steve informed me that this is my one-month anniversary writing this (actually, it was Saturday) So now, let's present the most often-mentioned names. (These do not count)

1) Danielle 56
2) Steve 46
3) Marcus 13
4) Mrs. G@wlik 12
5) Julie 7
Adam G 7
Jay 7
8) Sami 6
9) Mrs. Nawr0t 5
10) Marilyn 5
11) Summer 5

--JMC 9:26

Pretty neat-o, huh? I did that in library last Friday when I was bored -- I wanna write a play or something kinda like "Jungle Fever" which is one of the best movies I have ever seen -- I saw that on Saturday night -- don't read this if U haven't seen it --

OK -- Wesley Snipes is married to this lady who's half-black, half-white, but she considers herself black, like she almost hates whites. OK, & they have a daughter who's about 7 or 8 years old -- at the beginning Snipes & this lady were having sex, and the girl wakes up in the morning & says, "Why does mommy always make those funny noises" & then she has to explain it & everything & then the girl says "I know, I was just testing U" -- Then Flipper (that's Snipes) goes to work, and learns that his new partner is this Italian lady from Bensonhurst (Annabella Sciorra) and he's really pissed off cuz he wanted some black person, so then he becomes really attracted to her and then they have sex, and he finally tells his best friend, who is played by Spike Lee -- However, Spike tells his wife, and his wife tells Flipper's wife, and then she kicks Flipper outta the house an' then there's this almost documentary-type thing going on about interracial relationships with all of Flipper's wife's friends. There's a sub-plot, too, involving Pauly, Sciorra's ex-boyfriend. He works in this store with all these Italian racists who really hates blacks. Pauly ends up going out with this black woman, and this is so weird cuz when he asks her "Would you be attracted to a white boy" & she sez "Why me?" that's exactly what Steve said Danielle would say to me when I called her. Anyway, there's also another part about Flipper's brother, some crack addict whom Flipper's parents have to kill. So, back to the story -- basically cuz I don't wanna say anything more, they realize they can't work it out & so Flipper goes back to his wife & they have more sex -- and then thats it -- Oh no! I never mentioned the prostitutes -- they wanted to suck his dick for like $3 -- my God, they're desperate! -- JMC 12:52

February 24, 1995

2005-02-24T19:36:00.000-08:00

I'm on a lucky streak this week -- I'm Mr Lucky all of a sudden (lucky me, lucky you for knowing me and hoping my luck will rub off on you). Cite the following examples: three straight 100%s in MATH, of all things ( where I got about three A's all year in Hon Adv Algebra -- maybe B3rnie Kill was just out to get me), including a chapter test. I feel like I'm in seventh grade doing 3x+2=7 or finding the area of a rectangle with dimensions given to you in that I'd be getting 100%s in those days. Not that what we're doing now is particularly easy... I'm setting the curves. And then in history -- well, what do you know? Another 100% -- on my paper about the Repub. party after 1877 -- which I really wasn't expecting -- and then a 99% on this latest test, the hardest one all year. And everyone hates me for it... I must have heard three people call me "Mister 99%" Well, in a class with 88% of the people getting C's below on that exam, they have every right to be mad. I would be. Definitely. I'd raise a commotion. And I honsetly did think the test was mighty difficult. Things turn out this way. Mr Buss asked me to be on the JETS team today, a prestigious academic competition group. My only obstacle now is getting this approved with Karen B Kru3ger, for the IHSA Music Contest is on the same day. I'm getting sick of choir. It just seems like I'm having no fun with it. Hmmm.. That almost looked like Adam Gri3ve's handwriting. Anyway, that's my lucky streak. I hope that one day it won't just end & I'll plummet into a pit of mediocrity. Stacie said I was all smart. Oh -- lest I forget -- I also have the highest grade in chemistry. Well, enough gloating & ego-boosting for the time being. I'm not about to get up & imply how good & dedicated I am, like some choir presidents would -- I refer, of course, to Ronnie Fals0n (our "friend/bitch" Mindy Oft3dahl, screeching absentee, graduated already -- whatever...) who was "mulling over choir all night like I always do" -- and as she said this, Karen is hanging all over her in admiration. It's been rough for Karen, I bet -- I wonder what Ken S0rrick thought of her Sunday school teaching the other day ("Then God got very angry & sent down a drought to the people," as she pulled out her big Bible) -- he was just sitting there. And then the male members of Madrigals (alliteration!) don't like the song "Scarborough Fair" and she takes it personally. Maybe because her son Charlie is out screwing some girl in the back of her car & she's upset. I always think I see that kid in school, but he goes to RHS. Collin, go join him, you little Spartan wanna-be. You and your grunt-laugh & overeagerness toward choir (it's disproportionate to his talent). So then for Karen to have me approach her & say -- "whoops -- can't sing for you Saturday" -- it might be a little too much for her. Especially if she's only getting three hours of sleep a night & thinking she's immune to anything (after the Charlie incident). That's not to be confused w/ Chuck Thyn3 -- you know, Snoopy's brother. Snoopy -- that's just so perfect -- thank you, Stacie. Melissa just sounds wrong. Or Pelican Girl. --JMC 7:04 PM

February 23, 1993

2005-02-23T17:59:00.000-08:00

Thank God I have this extra 20 minutes in Spanish now, or else this would have to be another *THIS SPACE FOR RENT* since I drew the design in geometry. And the reason I have all this time now is becuz Sra. Rosa is not here and I'm finished with the homework that Mr. Gould (EL REPUBLICANO! AACK!) passed out. That reminds me that 2day is election day. Down with MAYOR CLAAR! Actually, I bet no one in this littl etown really even cares about the damn election anyways, and if they do, they're major Republicans. Or at least conservative becuz B3cky R0senmayer denies that she is a Republican (HA!) but sez she's conservative. Where's the logic in that? I can see a moderate Republican, or a moderate Democrat, if that's what she is. But a conservative Democrat? I think she's independent, like Mary O'C0nnor, who voted for Perot. But we were talking about MR GOULD, weren't we? The thing is, I wouldn't have any knowledge of his views if it weren't for Anne's reports on him when we were going out. He hasn' shown any signs of Republicanism to me yet, but this is only the 3RD time I've seen him. Why are we talking about MR. BOULD? I don't know, but who am I to judge? I only write this damn journal; I don't pick the topics. Well, maybe I do, but still ... HOMEWORK this evening is the following: Geomertry - Section 8-8, Classroom Exercises 1 and 2; English - finish Act I of WEST SIDE STORY and project due for ROMEO & JULIET. That was actually a pretty good story, I thought. Am I the only one? I'm sorry, I liked it. The movie was pretty good, too, and not just becuz of the sex scene. I'm not going to divulge, U can rent it on your own (ROMEO & JULIET, 1977. Directed by Franco Zefferelli) I also have study 4 history too. No español. YIPPEE. Was that redundant? "I also have to study 4 history too"? What was that "too" doing there? I must not be paying attention. God, do U know how long it's been since I mentioned Steve? Shit. What's there 2 say? Well, I haven't talked about the motion pictures I saw over the weekend, or for that matter, the rest of my OSCAR PICKS. It'll have 2 wait.
JMC 2:14 pm

February 22, 1994

2005-02-22T22:43:00.000-08:00

It must be obvious to all my readers that today is George Washington's birthday; I am certain that everyone is well-read about matters as such and therefore, I shall refrain from discussing it. All right, next issue: I am carrying a pencil with me right now that reads on it, in orange lettering (the pencil itself is black), "The Oh'Lantern Family." Now, I'm not too concerned with things like why there's an apostrophe in the name or why this name actually exists in the world today or if this is some kind of cruel Halloween prank -- I just wanna know how this pencil managed to fall into my hands. My last name, if you'll read the heading, is Cunningh@m, not Oh'Lantern, and furthermore, I do not know anyone named Oh'Lantern, which I imagine, if this name does exist, is a Chinese family. Speaking of which, last week the school served Chinese food, and egg roll - fried rice - Oriental chicken soup - mixed vegetables entree, which is an extremely refreshing change when you're used to the standard school blah lunch. In fact, today, thy served feta cheese and baklava (w/ the gyro) for Greek day! -- JMC 1:15 pm

February 21, 1994

2005-02-21T22:36:00.000-08:00

Today marks the twelve-year anniversary of my brother's three-week-old anniversary, if you could really call it a weekaversary, I mean, if you could really call it an anniversary, because it's more like a weekaversary. I kinda blundered that one up, if you could use that phrase, because I think "blundered" is acceptable as is without the "that one up."

Having completed my letter to Monsieur René Magritte last night for Ms Breining3r's class, I watched the 1991 flick What About Bob?, the role of Bill Murray's life, not including Groundhog Day, which was (I swear) the funniest damn movie EVER. But before that, I had some turkey & baked potatoes and before that I started the biography on Mr. Magritte, the popular Belgian surrealist artist. Of course, who could forget putting together a dumb-ass jigsaw puzzle of a castle on the computer, which came with a little elementary school program my cousin Matt received for Christmas. It reminded me so much of New Year's Eve, which I fondly recall as being a feel-good mix of Border's Book Shop, sparkling beverages, Entertainment Weekly magazine, mixed nuts & cheeses, The Piano, Penn & Teller, George Carlin, Holly Hunter, and Pearl Jam. In fact, I was listening to Pearl Jam (the group's name, I hear, is derived from Eddie Vedder's grandmother, Pearl, who makes jam) about four times on yesterday (Sunday) because Q101 played "Daughters," "Glorified 'G'," "Alive," and "Elderly Woman Behind the Counter in a Small Town" about maybe an hour and a half apart, as I was typing my paper on the computer, or maybe doing the Tribune magazine crossword puzzle. (This reminds me now of last summer when I completed an entire crossword puzzle from Tempo one morning while listening to the Best of Blue Note CD I just received in the mail from the CD club, and I only used a dictionary about twice, and then maybe I went on a bike ride up to Downers later that day). More reminiscences later --
JMC 1:15 pm

February 20, 1992

2005-02-20T22:30:00.000-08:00

Adam Gyn@c got into this big fight with Steve today at lunch, which I didn't want to get into at first, but then became reminiscent of Adam's and my fight last year, ie Adam bragging about how he can really kick Steve's ass & saying what an awesome vocabulary he has (well, actually only implying it) and how he can think of much better things to say, and saying "My hobbies are my own business" (referring to D&D) and my God, I'm on the 11th line already and I haven't even mentioned Danielle yet. Oh well, the spelling bee is tonight and I figure if I can somehow get rid of Andrew Web3r, Mike Lawl3r, and/or Katie R3h (well, actually I'd need to get rid of two), then Danielle would get in.¹ Yay! Wouldn't that be great -- I could ask her out tonight -- but two people are really going to not be there -- but I hope that she'll at least show up beforehand & wait until everyone gets there -- I can't really say her name too much, cuz Sami wants to see it, and it wouldn't really be very nice for her to see it -- OK Sami knows now, and I've confirmed (well, actually Sami did) that she broke up w/Marcus, although I don't know if it was about Julie or not. Anyway, after Sami asked Danielle if she did or not, it sparked a conversation at that table, which Steve has been moved to. I hope he's listening cuz I wanna find out what she said -- JMC 2:30

1 Danielle was second-alternate for the district bee and thus would have only competed if two other contestants couldn't participate. After losing in the last stages of the county-wide bee in sixth grade, and accidentally failing to show up for the grade-level bee in seventh grade, this was my last chance for spelling bee glory.

On ILX, I told the story of what happened that night: "...I was given the word 'tentative.' Feeling too confident, I guess, I breezed through it: 'T-E-N-T-I-T-I-V-E.' I couldn't believe I had slipped up and wound up bawling in the backseat of the car on the way home. The weird part is that I was semi-embarrassed that I had spelled it so that 'TIT' was in the middle of the word; I had a notion that people would think that I had misspelled it because I was distracted by thoughts of breasts.

February 19, 1993

2005-02-19T20:23:00.000-08:00

Actually, I must apologize for Thursday's entry because Leo ¹ came into class and we were talking about MALCOLM X, and I got into the conversation. Today is Friday, in case U couldn't tell, and my name is J0hn Cunningh@m, which U probably couldn't tell because it looks like "JOHN CGH."² That's my fault, really. We are on an assembly schedule today, which means that 10 minutes are taken off PERIODS 1, 2, and 3 so that we can have a happy fun assembly commemorating *SPIRIT WEEK*. That means that it is really 11:09, if U can believe it. If U can't, then douse your head in a barrel of ginger ale for approximately 2 minutes, then balance a loaf of bread on your head and whistle "Kiss of Life" by Sade while skipping down the hallway. I realize, though, that I haven't been giving U QUEEN updates, as promised. Again, my fault. I'm kinda mad, though, cuz I accidentally taped Part Three over Part Two. That doesn't matter, though, becuz I saw Part Two already and shall fill U in now: (Do U realize that I've written the word "though" in the last 3 sentences? ¡Qué raro!) QUEEN has left the plantation and has gone to South Carolina to find work. Immediately, she stumbles upon Lonette McKee, who, in fact, played Wesley Snipes' wife in Jungle Fever (see Feb. 92)³, who is also biracial.

Then she falls in love with a white man, the only problem, though, (SHIT! I did it again) was that he didn't know she was half-black, and once he found out he raped her. Of course, McKee was steaming becuz Queen had told the guy in the first place. It's amazing how much racism there was in this period to begin with. Maybe it's just becuz it was the Deep South, but it was all "nigger" this and all this shit. So many problems, even w/the newly-found freedom. (Why is Newfoundland pronounced "NOO-FUND-LIND"? It should be NOO-FOWND-LAND) I guess all the Southerners were mad that they lost the war and were still harsh toward the ex-slaves. But, anyways, Queen is forced to move out of the community where she comes across these fat white religious lesbians (or at least I think they are lesbians. To tell the truth, I don't even know if kd lang is either, although I'd wager that she was) who are trying to get her to be Lutheran or whatever they are, and always insulting. So, I'll tell U the rest later.
-JMC 11:24 AM

1 A "peer leader" who periodically visited our freshman homeroom and led us in various activities or discussions.

2 That is, in my signature at the top of the notebook page.

3 Upon seeing this cross-reference, I said to myself, "But I thought I didn't start journaling until March 1992." And then I dug out the first journal, and it turns out I actually started on January 27! So get ready for some very early entries, from 8th grade, to be integrated into the rotation.

February 18, 1993

2005-02-18T20:23:00.000-08:00

* THIS SPACE FOR RENT *

February 17, 1995

2005-02-17T22:11:00.000-08:00

The week draws to a close soon; I like to think that week & weekend are completely separate entities, that the weekend isn't even part of the week which begins on Monday and ends on Friday. Then, we have a little break & then a week again. It's one of those things -- like if I go up to someone & make mention of something school-related I did "last year" -- it is not assumed I mean 1994. I could very well, for example, be referring to the fall of 93, which was last year -- that is, I am a junior now & I was a sophomore then. Sophomores are always so nice. It's a good grade level because -- well, once you come in as freshmen, you don't know what the hell you're doing, you haven't quite carved out that niche for yourself yet, you're making new friends -- but as a sophomore, you've found all that, but you're still young. I am so glad that, with our new yearbooks, which came on Tuesday (and which I got through some ... what some would call "complaining" ... and I guess that would be right, because they didn't have my name on the list of yearbook orderers, even though I dutifully paid my fee... Mr Paskiewicz ¹ was feeling generous -- or something) there are some faces below us to stare at, last year's freshman crop -- the sophomores of which I speak of now. Yearbooks are great reference books, more than anything, to just get lost in & while away the hours. Stacie & I have picked up the old 1993 edition quite a bit in our times together & conversed on the phone about such oddities as the double-photos of Cathy Mey3r (the strange young evil twin "Casly Never")² & Bernice Weg3rich, whom you may remember as the German "teacher"/choir accompanist/knitting fiend/victim of a box falling on her head... that was a staff member at the high school last year. It was a cold October morning ³ when Ryan started talking to her about The Nightmare Before Christmas and its animation techniques -- like any of us cared or had the effrontery to talk to the old lady. Anyhow, Ryan did finally break his month-long silence: "Excuse me, I was talking" and "Bye, asshole" on Wednesday. I am doubting the chances for repairing this feud ⁴ (bridging the chasm sounds better) at all, though, given how worked up he is about it, i.e. all the trouble has gone toward blatantly ignoring me & the like. It seems childish, really. And how the hell did we get to Ryan? Via Mrs Weg3rich? Mmmm... ("Everything tastes good to you..." -- Dan (?) to Adam Gri3ve ⁵) I think the reason I mention any of this, the sole purpose for why I picked up this pen off the living-room carpet (other than the fact that one should never leave pens on the carpet ⁶), is that Stacie is off in Missouri to visit her dear grandmother for the weekend & who knows -- maybe we might have been on the phone all this time. Because we sure have been the last two weeks. Talking very late, I mean, about anything & everything. Some things are much more comfortable after four hours, I think. And these past few days have been enjoyable: The opera yesterday was a pleasant diversion if anything, marred only by my sleepiness & feeling a bit under the weather, as I like to say. Those damn Sudafeds didn't do me a bit of good. Damn them. I guess things like the AHSME math test & the Sunrise trip to Hubert H. Humphrey (my alma mater, of course -- see Vol. 1 (!)) serve to break the awful monotony of school schedules -- and it was a balmy 52° today at 3 o'clock. It was downright gorgeous. I remarked yesterday that whenever I leave school on a field trip, I get a sense of freedom, of having escaped from that routine, that while everyone else is sitting through lectures, I've slipped through their watchful eyes -- such privilege. And the temperature gave it the feel of all of us taking a Sunday drive in the country, enjoying the open air. The new is what keeps us going [...]
--JMC 11:39 PM

1 "Mr. P" was the yearbook advisor and the boys' soccer coach, and also had a bit role as a gambler in Guys and Dolls my senior year. He died in 2004.

3 Okay, so check this out: on p. 120, there's a photo of Cathy Mey3r: she has straight brown hair, bangs over her eyebrows, staring at the camera with her mouth slightly open, not quite smiling. Four rows down, in the same vertical column, there's a photo captioned "Casly Never," and apart from the fact her mouth's closed and she's looking off to the side (and holy shit, I just noticed this, is she even wearing a different shirt?), it's the exact same girl.

3 On the bus on the way to Northern Illinois University for a choir field trip.

4 I honestly don't even remember anymore what triggered the falling out between Ryan and me, except that he had suddenly, a few months before, become distrustful and accusatory toward me, and the fact that I found his behavior ridiculous only exacerbated his sense that I didn't support him. It later came out that he was jealous of my friendship with Stacie, which had lately grown closer and more exclusive. Because the three of us had once hung out together, Ryan understandably felt left behind. In general, though, he wasn't the most stable dude, especially if there was any truth to the stories he told about his family.

5 Adam had this somewhat affected habit of saying "mmmmm," sometimes with a raised eyebrow, which gave the impression of a gay man with a delicious secret. (And despite much speculation, Adam never admitted he was anything but straight.)

6 I'd been admonished enough by my dad.

February 16, 1993

2005-02-16T20:06:00.000-08:00

"TODAY IS A GOOD DAY", or so says Ice Cube in his little ditty. Mrs. Offerman just sed that Thursday is OPPOSITE GENDER DAY, which means that we must dress up as the opposite gender. Where's kd lang when we need her? And how come so many people misspell her name? KD Lang, no I don't think so. Actually, I like her songs, but she is a major cross-dressing Canadian non-effeminate roller derby-loving slut. Well, slut is such a strong word, but I needed a noun to complete the sentence.¹ So, what's up? Alex Haley's new movie is out, entitled QUEEN, which I am recording off CBS TV. It is a six-hour long epic tale which is being presented as a mini-series over three days, not unlike his best-known work ROOTS, which had a similar process of presentation in he mid-70s, when it was shown. ROOTS traced Alex Haley's mother's heritage back to Africa; however, QUEEN, which follows Haley's father's ancestors, goes back to Scotland, where his great-great-grandfather immigrated from. It is important to know that this man, Haley, whom we are talking about, so often associated with the black experience, is actually 1/8 white, as a result of the child born to Haley's great-grandfather and a slave woman in the 1840s. The child was named Queen, which of course, is the name of the mini-series. That is the background information. This is how it came about: The story begins on a Southern plantation in 1841. Haley's great-grandfather (played by Tim Daly) owns the plantation, or at least his parent's do, and there are a multitude of slaves on it. One of these slaves, Easter, (played by Jasmine Guy) falls in love with daly, and vice-versa, and pretty soon, Queen (played by Raven-Symone, and later, Halle Berry) is born. Easter denies that Daly is the father, and he will have no part in it either. Queen only finds out about her father when she is sixteen years old. Actually it's probably around 20, becuz the CIVIL WAR is going on. Anyways, that's the basic jist of Part One. Part Two airs tonite, and Part Three will air on Thursday. Stay tuned for updates.
--JMC 11:55 am

1 I'd cringe at this description, except I find it too amusing ("roller derby-loving"!). I was clearly confused as to how I was supposed to respond to someone like lang. I did like "Constant Craving" a whole lot, though: I remember enjoying it on the radio in Steve's parents' car several months before, on the way home from the only BHS football game I ever attended.

February 15, 1993

2005-02-15T19:47:00.000-08:00

Well, so, I'm back, and I'm not going out with Stacie. I think the only way that I would've asked her was if Steve had asked Tara, and he sed that his interest in her dwindled. Actually, I think my interest dwindled w/Stacie, too, becuz the only reason it was up was because of what I told Ami, and she was always asking me "Oh, do U still like Stacie?" Now she probably thinks I really like her and is acting differently toward me, as I am too becuz she knows and I know, etc. I probably should say something to her. It's interesting, though, cuz Steve seems to think that Tara likes me. He sez we'd be a perfect couple becuz "we listen to the same music."¹ I don't know. I think he's feeling sorry for himself though becuz he's beginning to think he can't have her, and that's why he's urging me to go for her. It's all really confusing, so I thought I'd interrupt with an excerpt of "Red Hooded Sweatshirt" by "Saturday Night Live's" own Adam Sandler:

MY MOM BOUGHT YOU WHEN I WAS JUST THIRTEEN
THE BRIGHTEST RED SWEATSHIRT THAT I'D EVER SEEN
SHE GOT AN EXTRA-LARGE SO I WOULDN'T GROW OUT
"THAT'S TOO BIG FOR YOU!" THE OTHER CHILDREN WOULD SHOUT
BUT WE STUCK TOGETHER, WE DIDN'T QUIT,
AND NOW THE CHILDREN SAY, "WHAT A PERFECT FIT."

It was on "SNL" on Saturday, and I copied all the words down becuz this Adam Sandler fellow is just hi-larious. So, anyways, back to life, back to reality. "A One-Act Play (Part X)" is finally finalized, pardon the redundancy. The main conflict is that Stacie has broken into Dimension 5 and proclaimed herself leader due to the fact that she has stolen Steve's BURGER KING crown. Then, in alternate story-line, I had promised both Danielle and R0ntaya that they would get 2 be the next leader of the dimensions, and they get to talking, and discover this information. It's all leading up to a climax that will take place in Part XI. Ryan sed that he'd give me what he has of Part IX and we could work from there. Steve also sez that we could maybe collaborate on Part XII. Shane is now reading Part X. Wouldn't it be funny if someone who didn't know Roman numerals was reading this and they're like "What the hell? X I?" -- Ha ha. What else is going on? Godparents was semi-fun. The first part of the meeting was okay. Actually, it was pretty boring, but it was also cool becuz Tara was sleeping and her head was tilted toward me. Ahhh... What the hell? I'm not supposed to like her. Or am I?
-JMC 11:55 am

¹ In other words, we were both white and liked rap and R&B.

February 14, 1994

2005-02-14T19:26:00.000-08:00

At present, it is 6:15 pm; that is, the big hand is on the three and the little hand on the six. On the clock at the BHS auditorium, Act I, Scene 7 of Rodgers & Hammerstein's classic musical SOUTH PACIFIC. Marilyn Bi3lby's six-year-old brother Tony is drawing a little color marker scene on notebook paper. It looks like an upside down tree. I'd like to clear some things up if I may. First of all, if you've been reading this journal chronologically; that is, not in any special collections like "Best of JMC Journals 1992-94!" or the poem "Quotations,"¹ you may be sensing that it seems like every day that I've been thinking about Shanna or Katie or that Stacie & I are on the verge of splitsville, to use this hip teenage jive (or gossip column lingo), and of course, that logic has absolutely no merit. Rather, we're having a pretty lovely Valentine's Day ourselves ... (Awww! Tony drew a palm tree!) ... and she's actually wearing (get this) jeans today. I cannot fathom my level of disbelief.² Speaking of which, Amy O'Bry@n and Kevin Mehn3rt might have a little romance evolving. And speaking of evolution, Mr. Sch00b ³ alluded to it this morning as we started Chapter 11: REPRODUCTION! Mr Schoob ... what a guy. I think Chris T0desco said it best when he said (and repeated to our favorite April-born teacher, John W@llin, at Family Fun Night), "Mr Schoob is like a videotape. He's on > PLAY during the school year and goes on << REWIND in the summer." "And it was the biggest organism in the world!! Well, maybe not the biggest..." He's trying to convince us that we should really start thinking about science as a career. Yeah, right. He says, "Well, if you wanted to be, say, a writer, and there aren't a lot of writing opportunities, then it would help to be a chemist." I say, "There are a lot of things in between writing and chemistry." And he goes off on this lecture to me. I mean, he's got a point, but really, for me, I'd rather take up a job I like for less money than to be a chemist, no matter what it pays. 10 minute break!
JMC 6:36 pm

1 "The Best of JMC Journals 1992-94" was exactly as it sounds, a typed-up compilation of some of my favorite entries (ah, the beginnings of my impulse to archive my life), and "Quotations" was a poem-collage based on this document, where I first isolated all of the quoted dialogue and then rearranged it.

2 Stacie always wore skirts, a habit I always chalked up to taste until she admitted a couple years later that it was at least partially informed by some edict in Leviticus or Deuteronomy against women wearing men's clothing. Her churchgoing ways hardly got in the way of our close friendship until she decided to go to a very conservative Baptist college, and I feared it would put strains on our relationship past graduation.

2 Soporific, sandy-mustachioed biology teacher.

February 13, 1995

2005-02-12T21:37:00.000-08:00

A sad fact widely known ("Rubber Ring," The Smiths) is that my "kid brother" -- that sounds so Wally & the Beav -- has written a hell of a lot more than I have lately, albeit for classroom English assignments, as he has Rita E Cl3house as his 8th-grade language arts teacher. But never fear. I will be soon back in the swing of things, especially since my doting month is upon us soon, lovely harbinger of spring, sunny cold afternoons of melted snow that is March. It seems to me that I have not yet encountered the innocent person that will turn my heart aflutter, but I am confident that my yearly cycle ¹ will not be interrupted now. The only thing that I believe might disrupt this annual event is the lack of desire or need for a companion in this stage of my life, as I have my wonderful friend Stacie to chat with most every day & night when I feel up to it. And I cannot imagine how I could function without her -- so that effectively ruins the mental aspect of it. But hormones cannot be controlled or held back. It really doesn't matter who you are -- if you are a sixteen-year-old male, that's the way it goes. Just a tip to the kids, there. I look forward this week to quite a few things, namely the opera on Thursday. The Barber of Seville is not something to be taken lightly and I am sure that I will enjoy myself, especially in the company of the Sunrise Singers. What else have I got going for me, besides my daily dose of stage crew w/ Stacie, Chris, Genevieve, Rosalie ², Mandy, & the like... I suppose there's not much else -- maybe the opera fills at least three things to look forward to because of its magnitude -- three was an arbitrary number, by the way. I'm not exactly on a "kick," if you haven't noticed, so I won't waste much space with thoughts I have trouble with retrieving. Feb 3 -- now that was a kick. JMC 9:02 PM

1 For three years running, I'd developed mad crushes on girls in the springtime (1992: Danielle Th0mas, 1993: Shanna Pr@naitis, 1994: Marie Rutk0ski) and assumed the trend was inevitable. It didn't happen this time, though.

1 "Rosalie" was actually, for some reason that's no longer apparent, my nickname for fellow stage-crew worker (on Little Shop of Horrors) N3rissa Caball3s.

February 11, 1996

2005-02-11T20:31:00.000-08:00

I was going to start off this entry by saying (yeah -- I had it all planned out; in fact, I had this very sentence planned out, too, while brushing my teeth just now): "Well, what the fuck. Another week, another party." And then I began to look at it from another angle, a new perspective, if you will, because now maybe this is my calling. Maybe instead of coming down on myself for seemingly only writing after parties or other "social outings" I should exploit my knack for good post-party journalism. I should report on parties for the Raider Review ¹, goddammit. I should be like that guy who was on when Fox-32 News was trying to be ultra-hip (über-hip??) who went to parties so "you don't have to." Well, anyhow, tonight's party (sorry, just spent the last 15 mins. watching music videos in JBTV ² ... back now, though) was for Alexia's 18th birthday, and it only reinforces my theory that more people are having fiestas this year because we're all seniors. Like, I think Jesaida's having one next Friday (oh, and by the way, I think I've all but completely doubted the whole September thing w/ Ryan ³ -- like I said 2 wks ago -- cuz I told more people & they just laughed & pretty much said "Yeah right!") But of course it was a much different mix of people. Some sample names: Sean Mulv!hill, Ronnie & Dan Gr@nt, Jase & Zippy (I can't even bring myself to call her "Mandy"; it's so unnatural, like it would be another person), some All-State joker ⁴ named Justin, Ryan (who left for about an hour and a half & then came back with his hair out of place -- and gossip, of course, flowed freely, conjecture about who he was out fucking or whatever), Adam, Stacie, Krista Pet3r (came late), and then Monica K0enig & Maryanne Mall0n. I mention them last if not only because they were the most out-of-place people in attendance (not really so much, not Monica at least, especially since we think that she & J Cudeb3c should hook up -- and have thought that ever since Duke
⁵ took us to the Country House on Oct. 26, 1995 after the NHS Convention; Maryanne maybe cuz for much of the evening, she was kinda quiet) but also because they meant the most to me in terms of what lingers afterwards. It turned out that the two of them, Adam & me, & Alexia, of course, were the only ones remaining during the last (first hours of Sunday) hour, and so the conversation is much more meaningful, significant. You have conversations, actually, and don't just shout things across the room, hoping, in vain, for someone you admire/are intimidate by/enjoy their company/etc. to hear you & reply with a laugh, or at least a knowing smile. And you always know what everyone's talking about, even if it's not as delving-deep as Cyndi's party. Even if it's just about Mr Bu55 or something. Anyway, since I've been attracted to both of the named girls at some point or another in the past year(s), it was very pleasurable, indeed, to converse with them, the two blondes (although vastly different, too, I might add -- appearance-wise, that is) ... Hominah, hominah, hominah (excuse me if this is spelled wrong -- not sure there is an authorized standard, though) -- Yeah, whatever. I don't know what I'm feeling at all. I'm thinking of them, trying to feel something, even just a satisfaction at having mentioned them, and then onto a new topic like my killer test week this past week or how I want to see a movie this weekend or being at Stacie's last night or Jesus, I don't know, some philosophical, agnostic ranting with some mention of the Unitarian Church or the book we've been reading for English, Hesse's Siddhartha ... or something about the newspaper or what I do in gym these days or how NHS is going or how Stace wishes Zippy would just leave since she's pretty protective (possessive?) of Jase herself. No, but before, what I was thinkig of was Monica's orange-ish hair hues or Maryanne's "butter on a baked potato" aura & ubiquitous black eyeliner. Monica's lioness appearance/resemblance & Maryanne's soccer-playing ponytailed girlishness. Monica's loquaciousness, and ... oh whatever Mr Strl3 called her, "vivacious" maybe. Oh, and Ronnie was wearing her "Rita" glasses ⁶ tonight, too. As my good pal Jason Cudeb3c would say, "Very nice."
-JMC 2:18 am

But oh how that lacked finality. Maybe I should B.S. an entire page to waste paper & look like I'm getting somewhere in this journal -- nah. But it was a pretty good party overall, that I should say. That's what I needed to reiterate. And I think now, only now, shall I be able to go. Just thinking again: one of the best x-mas presents I received: Crooked Rain, Crooked Rain by Pavement (or do we put album titles in quotes?) -- funny thing was, it was from Chris who just up & bought it for me, then laid it to sit on the car seat when we went to see Mighty Aphrodite at that crap theatre in Glen Ellyn. But man, that's been getting quite a few spins on my CD player. I should really be looking into working at Record Swap ⁷ this summer. You know it'd be better than the Brothers (CBS)⁸ -- a lot more fun, at least. But fuck it, I don't wanna think about it. (although I do need the dough). But then I said, or implied, I wouldn't ramble, based on my sarcasm and use of the word "nah" -- and now I'm just contradicting myself.
-JMC 2:30 AM

1 The high-school newspaper, of which I was co-editor during my senior year.

2 JBTV, which I'm surprised still exists, is an "alternative" music-video program airing on a local UHF station and hosted by Jerry Bryant, this dorky guy with long, stringy gray hair and beard. Since I didn't have cable, it was one of the only places where I could see videos, and their "alternative" bent meant they played some songs that I couldn't even hear on the local alt-rock station. (Of course, this didn't signify "indie rock," exactly: videos I disinctly remember waching include Smashing Pumpkins, Stabbing Westward, Catherine Wheek, and Gigolo Aunts. Sort of a video equivalent of Alternative Press, now that I think about it.

3 I think this maybe refers to speculation that Ryan and Jes@ida had consummated their relationship?

4 An actor in the All-State play, featuring talent from high schools across Illinois and performed, after months of weekend rehearsals, as the culmination of the Illinois High School Theatre Festival. The play that year was Man of La Mancha; both Alexia and Ryan participated.

5 "Duke" was the nickname of William Dutki3wicz, a guidance counselor and National Honor Society (NHS) sponsor, who I came to know through my duties as NHS secretary. He was among the friendliest faculty or staff members I knew in high school, and he took a great interest in his students' lives (some claimed that his interest in female students was perhaps untoward, but I never personally observed this). On at least one occasion I asked permission to leave a class where we weren't doing anything (e.g., on the day before winter break) so I could hang out in his office. He also offered to take several of my friends and me to see Mandy Patinkin live -- or maybe it was Crazy for You?

6 Cat's-eye-ish glasses that, for whatever reason, made Ronnie look like her name should be "Rita." (I mean, I'd conjecture that the glasses gave her an air reminiscent of an old Hollywood actress like Rita Hayworth, except I've never seen a Rita Hayworth movie and don't even think that she wore glasses.

⁷ Now-defunct Naperville record store where my friends Chris, Becky, and Marie all worked at various times and thus where I sometimes hung out. Probably the first "cool" record shop I'd been to, with stacks of old marked-down vinyl in the corner and CD rack dividers with band logos meticulously replicated in Magic Marker. I bought a Pavement t-shirt there, and Glenn Branca, Rachel's, and Chavez CDs (among others I can't recall).

⁸ Christian Brothers Services was the insurance company for which I file-clerked the previous summer.

Just You Wait

2005-02-11T10:22:00.000-08:00

I know I've been lax with putting up new entries in the last week: I've been unbelievably busy lately, as my band has been preparing for the biggest show of our career to date, and I'm easing into a new role as a contributor to Stylus. I'm hoping this weekend I can put some up -- I'll probably just backdate them.

February 10, 1993

2005-02-10T20:24:00.000-08:00

A One-Act Play (Part X) is just about done. It's three pages long so far. Here's a sneak preview: The part begins when John and Danielle argue about haggis, "the Scottish dish, commonly made of the heart, lungs, and liver of a sheep." What a riot! And then R0ntaya ¹ comes over for dinner and John begins a lengthy conversation with the queen of the syrups, Mrs. Butterworth. Wait, it gets better! Ryan calls John and announces that Mrs. Jan0ski will be coming over for dinner, too. That's where I am right now. Hoo boy! I could hardly keep myself from laughing. Well, actually, I could because that paragraph isn't funny at all. U don't seriously think I would reveal all the humor in my journal, do U? Pardon me for a second while I write in the top five. I should stress, of course, that the top five that appears beyond the margin in my journal is stolen from Billboard magazine's Hot 100 Singles chart and is not, in any way, intended to resemble or reflect any or all of my favorite songs. That would be ludicrous because I've never even heard #s 2 and 5. Just to clear things up. Actually, I've been thinking that I should start of the JMC ² Top Five within this journal on Thursdays or Fridays, instead of sporadically sprinkling them about at random. (Is that redundant? Sporadically / at random? Can I be sued for that by my faithful readers? Do I have any faithful readers besides Jay and Clarissa?3 Will this ever be published? Why hasn't Clarissa been in school for the past week? Should I care?) Those were my inner thoughts let loose. Most of them are irrelevant, as is my life. Of course, I'm kidding. All of them are irrelevant. Anyways, I think I should write a book of questions, seeing as I'm so good at them. They just flow out smoothly like fresh wine from a spigot at the bar mitzvah we call life. Damn, that was a good metaphor. I'm just rambling; can't U tell? Why else would I be talking about bar mitzvahs? Actually, that's probably the first time I mentioned "bar mitzvah" in the journals. I like to get in touch with my Jewish background. But wait, you say, I have no Jewish background! That's why I like to get in touch with it; because it's not there and I need to find it and experience it. I'm going crazy; can't U tell? Jerry Seinfeld is God.
JMC 11:55 AM

1 Googleproofed because previous, unGoogleproofed references to Ms. Bailey by first name alone resulted in the girl herself e-mailing me a few weeks ago (after 12 years!) and wondering what I was doing writing about her. (Apparently searching for "r0ntaya" only turns up five total hits, and the first one is this blog. Oops.) She claimed to be "flattered" at the mention of my crush, but since she has absolutely no memory of me at all (which certainly doesn't surprise me: we sat next to each other in Spanish but hardly talked), I can't help thinking that I may have creeped her out, just a tiny bit.

2 I was mildly obsessed with my initials: not only did I sign all my journal entries "JMC," I referred to the series of notebooks as "JMC Journals." Hence, my personal favorite five songs comprised the "JMC Top Five," and my favorite movies every year received honors in the "JMC Movie Awards."

3 It's amusing to me now that I so willingly let others read my journal, but for the first couple of years (1992-93), I didn't have any secrets or emotional crises or even embarrassing thoughts, really, and so I mainly wrote just to waste time during homeroom (which didn't stop me from having an inflated sense of myself as a Writer who would someday be published).

February 8, 1993

2005-02-08T09:53:00.000-08:00

Monday, oh Monday. The first day o' the week, the second day o' the month, second month o' the year, etc. etc. Well, let's recap the weekedn: FRIDAY, FEB 5, 1993 I went back to visit my alma mater, Hubert Horatio Humphrey Middle School for FAMILY FUN NIGHT. Now U must think "What the hell?" but, see, there were a lot of people from BHS there that I was hanging out with. Oh, shit! No, Laurie Dann didn't break into school again ¹, but the damn peer leaders have. Well, I'll write later. This is getting interrupted 2 much. -- JMC 11:39 am

¹ I vaguely remembered the case of a woman killing several children at a North Shore elementary school (see link above), but it wasn't until my middle-school band teacher made macabre jokes about it whenever someone knocked on the closed classroom door that I put a name to the killer.

February 5, 1993

2005-02-05T23:05:00.000-08:00

Yay! It's Friday. It seems like this week has gone by mighty fast. I just turned in my schedule to DR ROBERTS ¹, which includes the following courses (or "CURSOS" in español) --> Honors English 10, Honors Advanced Algebra, Honors Biology, PE, Homeroom/Lunch, Spanish II, and Journalism/Mass Media. Actually, I'm not sure about Journalism becuz I thought I might take Sociology, but I can always change it if I want 2. Hmmm... what else? How BOUT MY TOP FIVE? 1. Rebirth of Slick - Digable Planets 2. Hip Hop Hooray - Naughty by Nature 3. Nuthin But a "G" Thang - Dr. Dre -- Actually, that's my top three becuz I can't think of the rest. Oh well. Anne UPDATE: I was sitting at the lunch table on Wednesday, thinking 2 myself about what a bitch Anne was ², so I asked Jay to write a fake note 2 her. HA HA! What a riot! Jay wrote the following: "Dear Anne, I think you are really hot. Please call me:" and then he left Scott Sw33ny's ³ phone number, and signed it "Scott" -- Then I dropped the note in Anne's locker to be read by her later. Hoo boy, this is good! I could just purchase a Crystal Pepsi RIGHT NOW and drink the contents of it in a minute! HA! You'll never guess what happens next.
--JMC 11:55 am

So, anyways, Wednesday afternoon, Jessie (?!) calls me up and sez "So, John, how are U? Do U know anyone named Scott?" and I'm like "No, no, who's Scott" and she goes, "Well, Anne got this really weird letter from a guy named Scott and it doesn't look like your or Steve's handwriting, so I was wondering if U knew him." And I sed, "Well, no. No I don't." And she's like "Oh. Okay. Bye." But then ... here's the kicker (and it's not Steve Christie) Jessie calls me up again and sez, "John, have U seen Aladdin?" And I say "NO" and she sez "Do you want 2 know where it's playing at what time?" And I'm like "No, no, not really." But then she goes into this long-winded conversation with me about how she's moving to Dayton, Ohio, blah, blah. I don't get it. It was like we were friends or something.⁴ Hello? U don't just call someone up like that out of the blue --
Well, gotta go
JMC - 1:19 pm

1 That is, the schedule for the following year's set of classes; Dr. Roberts was a guidance couselor who I believe retired after my freshman year.

2 I'm really not sure why Anne was such a "bitch": I suspect that part of it may have been simply that she was my ex-girlfriend, and exes were supposed to be bitches, right?

3 Sw33ney was a chubby little greaseball whom Jay was friends with but still made fun of. I recently learned that for the past few years he's been fronting an alt-rock band (their bio references Foo Fighters, Matchbox 20, and Incubus) that's toured nationally and opened for Michelle Branch, Local H, and Lucky Boys Confusion (sold-out Metro show, bro). In the ensuing years, he's gotten taller and leaner, but you can still kinda tell it's him beneath the Abercrombie sweater and sculpted hair.

⁴ The thing is, we were, though. Sorry, 13-year-old me, I'm gonna have to side against you on this one.

February 4, 1996

2005-02-04T23:39:00.000-08:00

Let's just say I've been on hiatus or some shit like that ¹... there've been reruns of my life playing in the downtime, I'd like to think...but now that we're back, writing live & in color! (blue), I have a few things to discuss. The major one, of course, is the minor auto accident I found myself in Wed. morning, foolishly trying to park into a space too tight for my car (or at least I'd like to think that it was so as to have something to blame) & in the process denting a 1996 black Ford Probe owned by Aimee S@ss, who transferred here this year from Benet & I am now scared out of my wits to face. It was a highly traumatic experience, compounded by the fact that it occurred at 7:35 AM in the school parking lot and everyone knew by an hour later. And everyone thought that it was much worse than it was, that it was a hit & run (well, kind of maybe, becuz when I hit it, I panicked & got the hell onto the other side of the lot & didn't leave a note or anything ... but dutifully, I reported it, as I should have, so it didn't really matter what my prior actions were), whatever they said to me, even if it was mere curiosity about the matter embarrassed & upset me, and the day was marred by that morning's incident because I sat with a lump in my stomach & a total lack of concentration. But it's almost over. That is, I reported my wrongdoing to the Mountie ² (Ken Tepp3l, police officer) after a first period of wondering what to do nervously, and wrote a note to Aimee that night to be delivered on Thursday, and my dad phoned her dad, and estimates on the damage are awaiting. Shit, but it was an unpleasant thing to go trhough -- and damn it if the car wasn't three (3) days old that I hit. Me in my dirty black 91 Mercury Tracer that no one really cares about. That has paper plates & notes from Diane Breining3r & Dunkin Donuts bags strewn about the floor in the passenger's seat. Some Shakespearean playbill inthe backseat. Radio station buttons sticky with cola spilled a year ago & frozen up in the subzero weather nature has been recently providing us. And now a broken bumper. So that's been the big news. Also, the scoop on the musical ³ -- even though i knew what the lowdown was last entry, I failed to repost it. I'm having mixed feelings, actually. My audition didn't go as well as I had hoped (Debbie ⁴ kind of fucked up the piano part of "Luck Be a Lady" & not being familiar with the play in full, I was somewhat at a loss when Di asked me to "role-play"), and perhaps it's not worth blaming, but the part I received is that of Lt Brannigan, a trash-talkin' NY cop, which is cool & all, but not a singing part. Really, my first significantly smaller part. And so I'm wondering, am I sad & jealous of people like first-time-out-of-the-gater Aaron M@rsh, who plays Nathan (the role I'd kind of been eyeing) or Collin Br0wn (his role fits him more than me, I realize, but he gets to sing)...? OR is it just nice to not have to worry so much about line memorization & the like? Both, I suppose, but then I start wondering if I'm really that talented or if Di likes me or if I could have done it over, what would I have done (the audition, I mean)? It still should be fun, though, especially since three of my very good friends are in it (Stacie, Jason, Adam) & then people you just enjoy being 'round or like to look at (like Abbey P0we maybe -- and speaking of which, Ryan was kind of annoying me Sat. at dance rehearsal cuz he kept saying "Who's that girl eating the pretzels? Is that Angel?" even though it was actually Abbey, and despite the similarities -- both very young-looking sophomores who sometimes wear glasses -- he should know who Abbey is at least & not mistake her not once, but twice ... I mean, Abbey's just much cuter ... that's what it comes down to). The camaraderie being what I love about theatre most, so I've said, too, in various college application essays. (Proud to say those are all completed as well -- now we just watch our timepieces & calendars to see who wants to give me some extra dough). So many reminders of just how short my time is at BHS. As for more recent events, my life is full of irony as when Chris & I went to see Four Rooms yesterday & -- here's the irony -- we get carded! Ha ha. I apologized to him for being sixteen (he is 17 & 12 days), but I thought it funny that only now has this started to happen. Never before have I so looked forward to a birthday. It was okay, though, because then we went out to record stores (my "strikeout," if you will, at Record Swap indicated to me that there are absolutely no area locations that sell either Motorhome ⁵ or Cibo Matto ⁶, although a boy named Jesse ⁷ at RS who I had met through Marie back in August was willing to order one of them for me) & to the coffee shop, where I had yet another mocha (!) -- (I'm so fond of their mochas I'm afraid to try anything else). He had a date with some RHS ⁸ chick at eight, so I was back home with plenty of tiime, and in fact, took the opportunity to go have dinner with Stacie at TGI Friday's when I returned. And that was quite pleasant, too -- she was very relaxed & not feeling anymore the initial doubt as to whether I really wanted to do something with her (it's that part that sort of annoys me, like when she jumps to conclusions & thinks I don't like her, I don't want to talk to her ... and then there's her possessiveness, too, self-admitted & recognized in one of Mr Abney's guitar songs he played for us on Friday called "Don't Love Me to Death"⁹ ... but let me not, for heaven's sake, dwell on her faults!) We drove around for like an hour & a half after our dinner (me: blackened-Cajun-chicken sandwich, her: chicken enchilada) talking about minutiae & looking at people's houses, houses of people we know like Zippy or "Ferg" (the despised nickname of Matt Fergus0n -- I despise it at least cuz I don't hold much respect for him ¹⁰) or Adam Gyn@c. And so it was very nice. But now I run out of my room & should be going, so I will put my tag here to end.
- JMC 11:21 PM

1 I hadn't written in eight days, despite promises to the contrary.

2 Security Officer Tepp3l acquired the nickname "the Mountie" because of his young, rugged good looks and blank-faced stoicism.

3 Guys and Dolls

4 Student accompanist Debbie Gr0ver

5 Who I found about from Sound Opinions, after Jim DeRogatis raved about them. (And while doing some reconnaisance just now, I discovered that one of the members of Motorhome is in Evil Beaver and another's in Light FM, both currently active local bands.)

6 After finally acquiring the Cibo Matto, I wrote the following review for my high-school paper, The Raider Review:

CIBO MATTO: MADE IN THE USA

One doesn't normally expect big names at a record release party for an obscure band's debut album. Quirky Asian hip-hop groups aren't exactly "the thing" in modern music, either. It's all the more reason to notice Cibo Matto, a pair of Japanese women living in Greenwich Village, whose first musical celebration was attended by, among others, Yoko Ono, Lou Reed, and performance artist Laurie Anderson. Although the music Cibo Matto creates consists of mostly hip-hop rhythms, layered with broken English, jazz riffs, and other various sound effects, these elements, which initially may seem disparate, result in a wonderfully effective fusion of genres, as witnessed on the album, Viva! La Woman.

Probably the first sign of Cibo Matto's uniqueness is their name, which means "food madness" in Italian, and which is appropriate since seven of the ten tracks have as a title some sort of food or drink. "Apple," for example, gives way to "Beef Jerky" at the four minute mark of the album. Understandably, this unusual obsession also makes for some bizarre lyrics, a feature compounded by the fact that the group's songwriter, Miho Hatori, has only spent three years in the United States and is not fully accustomed to the English language. The instantly catchy "Know Your Chicken," boasts the puzzling line, "We got 2 babies / Isn't it cool? / One is Magenta, the other is Blue."

Like the Manhattan neighborhood in which they live, Cibo Matto's musical style is a melting pot, a mix of jazz, dance club beats, trip-hop, rap, and even, on one occasion, 1940's Andrews Sisters swing. In "Sugar Water," for example, Hatori (also the lead singer) begins the song with a spoken intro, which when accompanied by synthesizer, resembles the audio to some narrated Epcot Center ride. Soon, a bass-heavy rhythm ensues, and by the end of the song, we've encountered eerily detached backing vocals, a touch of acoustic guitar, and a dance-pop chorus of "la's." What may be the group's strength, however, is that whicle all of the tracks on the ablum certainly contain similar elements, not one really sounds like another. "Birthday Cake," released as a single last year, is an aggressive Beastie Boys-style rant, whereas "White Pepper Ice Cream" is a slow, moody poem, its lazy reading and muted trumpets bordering on beatnik pretention.

In some ways, paradoxically, this variety works to Cibo Matto's disadvantage as well. The first few times I spun Woman on my CD player, I found myself wishing there were more songs like "Le Pain Perdu," apparently a paean to maple syrup, which relies heavily on a Duke Ellington sample. An album chock full of horn-tinged, energetic nonsense would delight me to no end; however, since Cibo Matto is still in the experimental stage of the band, I must also put up with "Artichoke," a long (6:38) and repetitive ballad of piano chords.

And yet in the end, the good does outweigh the bad. Although they don't necessarily have pop hooks as strong as Pizzicato Five (the "other" Japanese dance group, responsible for last year's novelty hit "Twiggy Twiggy"), Cibo Matto make up for it with a lot more depth structurally. There's a moment in the opening track, "Apple," in which the beat stops to reveal a muffled melody that could have been lifted from a classical Oriental opera, complete with percussive bells and woodwinds. A minute later into the song, Hatori repeats the simple theme, but takes it a step further; with a strong, clear voice, she extends the high notes, more or less "breaking free" of the constrictive Eastern sound. It reinforces the idea that although the women's roots may always be in Japan, the band Cibo Matto is concerned with far more than just Asian styles. And when that means an album as strangely fun as this one, it's definitely a plus.

7 Fun facts about Jesse, who was skinny and had shoulder-length dyed black hair and a pale complexion yet apparently was not a goth (as he frequently asserted):

a) There were four bands he was a completist about (and by completist I mean buying import copies of albums that were identical except for the number on the spine) -- I know for sure one was Morrissey/Smiths, because he had a huge Morrissey poster next to his bed, and I want to say the others were, like, Trent Reznor, Jon Spencer (and related), and (wait for it) They Might Be Giants.

b) He built his own theremin!

8 Romeoville H.S., the other high school in the district, whose student body was drawn equally from Bolingbrook and Romeoville, a smaller community to the south.

9 First verse and chorus (copyright Chuck Abn3y):

Well, you worry when I'm driving down the road.
You wonder if that stuff I use ain't tea.
Why do you carry such a heavy load?
I am blue because you're strangling me.
Everything I do you seem to know.
Do you trail me everywhere I go?
Honey, won't you loosen up those arms around my neck?
'Cause I love you, so don't love me to death.
I love you, so don't love me to death.

10 I don't recall any specific animosity held toward Fergus0n except that he was the embodiment of preppiedom, with his cologne and white sweaters and being on the tennis team. He ended up at Tulane.

February 3, 1995

2005-02-03T18:18:00.000-08:00

This is actually quite nice for D0n Bu55 ¹ to give us some quiet time after that test we just took, my fourth of the day. And I had meant to write here last night, but it was sitting alone in my locker because nothing that I need do I ever have, in terms of non-essentials like journals and lists of classmates' birthdays, a new-found hobby of mine. Plus, I was fretting over the fact that I forgot to copy down the math homework; never fear, big JW ² didn't collect it. Perhaps what was most on my mind was not the ongoing, 3-week-long dispute between Ryan & I, a story I have told countless friends and lovers, and teachers, like Nick Schuli3n & EJ Br0nkema, both of whom are pro-Ryan, but this new kid from South Dakota, one Les Lawr3nce, who has threatened to disrupt the famous "intellectual clique" we have carved out for ourselves among the junior class. I realize our competitiveness has really gone too far (I am demanding to know of Mr Bu55 whether he changed Shanna's chem grade or not, mistakenly typed on the report card as an "A"), but it just really pisses you off when Mr. Advanced Placement himself, a preppy jerk in calculus, of all things, calculus! As a junior!³ -- comes hopping along & decides to place himself in the top ten or some such forbidden place. The boy is eligible for valedictorian, which would be an immense crock. But I promised myself & Stacie that I wouldn't talk about him, and this a form of talking. It's for my own good, anyway -- that way, the prosepct of Les Lawr3nce writing beautiful essays and scoring perfect quizzes in his four AP classes will not trouble me as much. Mmm... there is a circle (a hexagon, rather -- a diamond, to be more specific, geometry experts) of gossip running about this chemistry class that I shall be delighted to join soon. And praise be going home directly after school today -- although I have been enjoying stage crew. More Lawr3nce talk... look at all of us, though.
JMC 1:19 PM

1 Bu55 taught chemistry and, with his patient demeanor and nondescript tie and slacks, had an air of the 1950s about him, like you could almost imagine a black-and-white Jack Lemmon inhabiting his lean frame.

2 J0hn Wils0n, in addition to teaching 9th-grade geometry, also taught my 11th-grade math class, the precise name of which escapes me.

3 The way our school tracked students allowed only seniors to take calculus.

February 1, 1993

2005-02-01T20:58:00.000-08:00

Don't U hate it? Songs running thru your head. It's gotten out of control. This is really weird: I've been getting up in the morning and these songs going thru my mind are coming from nowhere. Last Friday's song was "The Best Things in Life Are Free", last June's #10 song for Janet Jackson and Luther Vandross. A fine song, of course, but where the hell did it come from? When was the last time I heard that? This morning's was Bobby Brown's "Good Enouh," slightly more current, but still, I don't even like it that much. I would've thought it would be something like (this gives me a chance to subtlely announce my top five) "Rebirth of Slick (Cool Like Dat)" or "Nuthin' But a 'G' Thang" or "Hip Hop Hooray"¹ -- I mean, what gives? Okay, Dallas won the SUPER BOWL, and although it has nothing remotely to do with my topic o' the day, I thought I'd let U know so U can look back in 50 years, and say, "Oh yes, the Dallas Cowboys won the Super Bowl in 1993 by trouncing the Buffalo Bills 52-17, and it should've been 59-17, but there were too many damn fumbles and this defensive player who recovered a fumble and was about to score fumbled, too, and it gave Buffalo a touchback." Of course, U wouldn't know this unless I told U, but I'm not about to tell U since U can just read your quote for yourself. So now I'm sitting here at 12:46 am [sic] and am getting reading to tell U about a dream I had last week, but forgot to write down, or somsethin becuz VOLUME I was chock full o' them. "Here's the deal, see?" That was my famous Ross Perot impression.² Pretty good, eh? But, anyways, the dream is as follows: I'm going to THEATRE class one day, except when I get in there, Mrs. Will3tte -- Sally Will3tte, I should say, from Humphrey ³ is conducting a class on economics. Actually, it isn't even Sally Will3tte. I mean, everyone calls her that and I know it's her, but she looks exactly like Zoë Baird, the subject of the great American attorney-general scandal of 1993. Anyways, my theatre class is in the band room, so I began to exit the auditorium -- but wait, Mrs. Will3tte-Baird is beckoning me to stay. All of a sudden, she turns into Mr. Fer@k ⁴ and the class is a history / current events course. I'll fill U in on the rest later on in the day.
- JMC 11:54 am

So where was I? Oh yes. Mr. Fer@k. Anyways, he led the whole class down to the basement of the school and we were all standing amidst three doors, one of which was ROOM 109 -- which if funny becuz last week there were these banners proclaiming "Come to Room 109 for the Leisure Group", an obvious ploy by the seniors to get some dumb-ass freshman to humiliate themselves. So, naturally, we opened the door to Room 109, and vóila, we stumbled across a huge damp, dark boiler room w/oil and septic tanks and all this other shit -- And that's when the dream ends ... Black History Month YAY! Like I'm going 2 do anything. Well, actually, I might actually try 2 do something this year becuz it's so important. They're including black history trivia questions in the announcements -- such as today's "Who was captain of Christopher Columbus' Nina?" The answer is some guy named Pedro Alonzo - something. I don't know. Well, I must leave now becuz lunch is over, so I'll try 2 write later on 2day. If not, then --
JMC 12:25 am

[MARGINALIA: 1. I Will Always Love You - Whitney Houston 2. If I Ever Fall in Love - Shai 3. A Whole New World - Peabo Bryson & Regina Belle 4. In the Still of the Nite - Boyz II Men 5. Saving Forever For You - Shanice]

1 Digable Planets, Dr. Dre, and Naughty by Nature, respectively. Within a few months, the Digable Planets debut record (Reachin': A New Refutation of Time and Space) was competing with, and perhaps edged, P.M. Dawn's similarly new-agedly-titled Of the Heart, of the Cross, and of the Soul: The Utopian Experience as my favorite album ever (to date). The Dre single is significant in that it spelled the dawn of G-funk and gangsta within a mainstream context. I stuck with hip-hop long enough to catch these first few whiffs, but had abandoned it by the time Doggystyle was released later that year, which means I'm still pretty foggy on Tupac and Biggie's entire careers.

2 And by "my" I mean directly swiped from Dana Carvey.

3 Mrs. Will3tte was a teacher at Hubert H. Humphrey Middle School; I never had her for class, however.

4 One of my favorite high-school teachers, J0hn Fer@k taught 9th-grade world history with an arsenal of good-natured cliches at his disposal.

January 30, 1995

2005-01-30T23:56:00.000-08:00

Back to school once again. Love those weekends, don't you? Well, second semester is in full swing, so they say, and of course the always-entertaining report cards came out, and I am pleased to say that I have done mighty well, leading me to pen a song entitled "I Got an A in Drivers Ed," an uncertainty plaguing me ever since that fateful September 23 (cross-reference yourself)¹ But everything is fine, except for the weather, which has kind of been mucky lately, but I mean, what do you expect for this time of year? Also on my agenda today is to report on one kick-ass movie, one Pulp Fiction I finally came about seeing with Marie & Chris on Saturday. God, was that a great movie. It was just so alive & entertaining. Mmmm. That's my report. I've been quoting dialogue since Saturday night; that's how much I liked it, because it entered my subconscious. That is a true measure of if you like something, I believe, because if something just enters your head without you forcing it in there, that's when you like it. When it preoccupies you. How wise. And as Mia Wallace said, you can tell when you're comfortable with someone when you can just be quiet & don't say anything to the person & you just don't fucking care. Or words to that effect. I'm paraphrasing the film there... I think it was Friday, though, that I had my grand epiphany, when I talked to Stacie on the phone & realized how much I like her & how much she truly means to me, at quarter to eleven at night, philosophical friendship discussions... It's a high of sorts, I think, a drunkenness of goodness & contentedness with my life ². I sometimes just get those pangs that say to me that despite it all, my life is good. And then I'll remember some impending homework assignment of some sort. But I truly think -- when compared with others, my old "friend" Ryan, for example (God, how much things have changed in such short a time ... the boy gets up & drives away when I enter a room) -- that I have a relatively happy life, good friends, etc. I am not angst-ridden or anything. Nor am I an affluent orchestra-playing suburbanite from Wheaton or Winnetka, which might be the opposite end of the spectrum, who's got it too good. Not that it's their fault that they're fabulously wealthy, I'm just saying ... It's nice. And it's nice that Diane Breining3r isn't in this English office anymore, especially since I didn't audition for the musical ³ & she might be giving me evil glares the whole period.
--JMC 10:55 am

¹ Ah, the perils of a print-based culture. Without a September archive yet, I'll just say that I skipped class on a day we had a test -- the only time I ever skipped in high school -- and subsequently received a zero, which led my average in the class to plummet.

² It's worth noting, perhaps, that I'd never been drunk or high in my life at this point.

³ Little Shop of Horrors, for which I eventually worked stage crew.

January 29, 1993

2005-01-29T11:05:00.000-08:00

216 hours. 29 minutes. U should know what that means. The big news, I suppose, is the report cards, accompanied by our CLASS RANKING out of 416 students ¹. #1: Cyndi J0hnson. No surprise there. #2: Kristy Rav3n #3: Sh@nna Pr@naitis #4: Chris Kal3y/Adam Gyn@c/Stacie Fr33man I don't know who's 7 and 8, but Ryan is #9 and Allison H0ffert and I are tied for #10. Yay! Other noteworthy rankings: Chris T0desc0 #35 Becky R0senmay3r - also #35. What a coincidence, don't U think?². Becky won't comment on the fact that Bill Clinton is in the 217th hour of the Presidency, but who cares? Jason J0rdan #45. He sed that he's probably the lowest honors student, but that was before I mentioned that Steve is #200-something (?!) -- Hey, we're playing Jeopardy!³. -- I'm gone -- JMC 11:43

That was fun and/or exciting. We lost, but the Alex Trebek-type person screwed up the scores so I don't know what the scores were really. Back to rankings. Well, actually, there's only one other person I know and that would be Mike W0nderlin ⁴ at #397. I must to the lunch line now for I must eat my lunch ⁵.
--JMC 11:54 am

1 It embarrasses me to think how invested I was in class rankings, a not entirely healthy mixture of curiosity and competitiveness.

2 Since they were dating at the time.

3 I think some kind of peer-leader group came into homeroom and conducted a quiz. I'm not sure why.

4 This scrawny rat-looking motherfucker who made fun of me in gym and health class. I wasn't really teased all that much in high school, but Mike got in his share of "get a girl you fag" remarks and insinuations, via a K-Y jelly joke, that Ryan and I were gay. It didn't last past freshman year, though.

5 Odd syntax deliberate, borrowed from a line in A Midsummer Night's Dream.

January 27, 1996

2005-01-27T17:47:00.000-08:00

And to think that at 5:45, I lay curled up in bed, lights off, head pounding from the aggravation my stiff neck was inflecting upon it, and I was just about sure that I wouldn't be going to Cyndi J0hnson's 18th birthday party. To even think that at 6:45 I figured I'd probably have to leave early, knowing that at any time the headache could return, have its revenge against the gel-caps I squashed it with, and I'd just be in too much pain. And then to walk back into the door of my house at 2:25 AM, having spent the last 3 hours in a deep conversation with Cyndi, Kristy, & Carolyn, an unforgettable discussion of sex, religion, politics (the three no-no's!), and general gossip. We want to meet often; we want to form a club, a society of thinkers; at least that's what we all joked about as we left roughly 45 mins. ago from now. But it was simply wonderful & more deserving of written remembrance than the night I spent with Adam Gri3ve last night (we finally got to see the excellent 12 Monkeys & spent more cash at TGI Friday's in an exuberant, but always shallow conversation). The evening began rather ordinarily: Stacie & I rang the doorbell at 7:30 or so, since it is understood that we travel to parties together, and were met with a handful of Cyndi-friends, girls like Becky & Allison & Jes@ida, etc. The night progressed pretty pleasantly, too, not counting, of course, when Cyndi broke down & cried (but that's a common occurrence -- she cries easily, and the situation is trivial at best, so it doesn't bear repeating). Jason J0rdan & Angela Zar0 both made separate, brief appearances; we played a party game ("Inklings"); there was pizza, etc. The night only really kicked in, though, in the greater scheme of things importance-wise, when Stacie left at 11:30, the only remaining guest outside of the aforementioned four. And that's no offense to her by any means, but ... This is what I mean by deep, by important: what I told those 3 girls -- well, first of all, I did tell them the bisexuality thing, cuz I mentioned that Kristy's crush on Chris (or the idea of it, as she distinguished) kind of mirrored my own -- but that was only after I told them the story between Stacie & me, a subject I've kept locked up for the past year & a half, known only by Ryan, but then, he didn't know that much, either. What surprises me now, in retrospect, & also I guess there, too, is not so much that I told but who exactly it was I told. I don't consider any one of them "best friends" of mine, but actually they were very easy to tell because of the nature of the conversation & also because they think rationally, logically, not so much emotion-wise; that is to say, they don't care what Stacie & I did, but more about how things happen that way, about relationships in high school, universal feelings of sexuality, etc. Not to say either that they were cold & heartless, though. The fact is, I spilled my beans & I don't regret it because they were interested & tolerant & everything, like friends should be. I really love great conversation, and when you bring matters of a personal nature into it, like Kristy's relationship with Chris "Loserboy" Cap0cy or Carolyn's flirting with atheism (or whatever) or Cyndi wondering whether guys are intimidated by her ¹, well then man, wouldn't you think it would be just so much more the interesting? Stimulating, and too, feeling privy to things otherwise unspoken. But here is, in case I ever wondering about it again, is how I spilled the beans: We had been talking about Becky, since she's a paragon of Catholicism that we can compare ourselves to & speculate as to whether she & Steve have done, as Chuck Abn3y ² likes to say, the "dance without any steps" (basically, she represents what all of us are against, value-wise, although we still "love her to death" [Cyndi]). But anyway, such speculation then prompted me to wonder aloud Ryan & Jes@ida, whose escapades are presented in lurid detail in the 9/1/95 entry; alleged escapades, anyway, since everyone there seemed to doubt anything happened. To which Kristy then said she found it terribly ironic to voice such a question, since Jes@ida had once asked her virtually the same thing, but concerning Stacie & me. I was silent, & of course, they weren't demanding a response, but my silence was surely an indication, and as Kristy went on talking about "Loserboy" & sleeping w/him, I left hints merely by nodding with identification of similar circumstances or making a terse comment. And then the story came spilling out. Oh but it was fun. Kristy talked about sometime in February when her parents will be away for 4 days & she feels the urge to do something illegal, so she thinks she might -- well, originally she was just going to have a big come-one, come-all party -- but now she just thinks she might invite the other three of us because our conversation went so well tonight & in an effort to repeat it, we can't risk inviting anyone else. We don't want to, anyway. I can't talk about my sexuality with Allison H0ffert, for godssakes! Well, anyway, we might spend the night, I guess, that's what the plan was. It almost seems like we're elitists or something ³; at the same time like we're a famous group like the Algonquin Round Table or the Beat Generation when they were all still in college, talking crazy philosophy in dorm rooms ⁴. But a combination like what we had (coincidentally, too, the same group that went to Mr U's house [5/27/95 entry]) must continue because the potential for great conversation & life analysis is there. It can't just wither away, lie dormant, and especially not now. I doubt I would have "said anything" had this not been our last semester at BHS, but still, graduation day is fast approaching & advantages must be taken...
Z (like sleeping now!)
JMC 3:53 AM

1 She was our valedictorian, after all.

2 12th-grade English teacher, a small, wiry man with a sandy mustache who gave up his plan to be a wrestling coach when he started writing folk songs in college and decided to study poetry instead. He was all right, though I thought he'd have done a better job teaching younger kids.

3 I can't tell whether this was said approvingly or not.

4 It seems trite or banal now, maybe, but I think the key to my excitement about this conversation was that it was basically my first late-night existential/self-absorbed college-dorm chat; it just happened nine months before I started college.

January 26, 1994

2005-01-26T14:01:00.000-08:00

Well, wouldn't you know it? Someone of ordinary stature or class might be thinking to themselves right about now: I suppose finals must be over at that Bolingbrook High School educational facility we hear so much about; therfore, out amigos (or nuestros amigos, si prefieres) must be on shiny brand-new sparkling clean schedules and -- wait, let me guess -- (Diane would appreciate my use of the dash) John is in homeroom right now passing around small bite-size crackers which have been poisoned with the exact same 15-year-old Kool-Aid Jim Jones used in Guyana, and deciding the fate of every single student in this here, Mr. Ken/Brett G0uld's classroom, run instead not by Mr Ken/Brett Pick a Name and Go With It G0uld (Maybe I should explain: It seems as if his name is Ken Brett G0uld, yet he prefers to go by Brett, rather than Ken. Go figure. Anyways ¹, he's a Republican ².) but by Mrs. Lisa B0d0uris ³, who is currently reading about "[Princess] Diana's Lonely Battle."⁴

1 My entries up through 1994 are littered with the word "anyways," which I used freely until Ms. Breining3r informed me one day that it wasn't a real word.

2 This evidently enough to permanently tar him in my mind! I never actually had him for class myself (he taught AP European History), but he always rubbed me the wrong way. Fun fact: he was an amateur rugby player.

3 P.E. teacher. (The homeroom she supervised had to be held in G0uld's room as she had no classroom of her own.)

3 Presumably in People.

January 25, 1993

2005-01-25T23:35:00.000-08:00

Bill Clinton has been President for 120 1/2 hours now. Actually, Shane ¹ just killed him, but they never caught him (Shane, that is) and by some freak of nature, Shane is President. I suppose he killed the whole Congress too becuz he sez he's Pesident without having to go through the whole system. Anyways, getting back 2 reality, I'm not doing the survey exactly yet. Number one, Ryan is not going 2 homeroom 2day & Number two, Steve doesn't want 2 do it. Which I can understand, becuz people might make fun of him. I just hope that if I do it, people will take it seriously, becuz I don't really have a reason for doing it other than my own enjoyment. Hmmm... what else? My brother got the SPIN DOCTORS CD on Friday, which is okay, I suppose, if U like that kind of stuff. Well, actually, it's pretty good for being rock ², cuz it has some good songs like "Jimmy Olsen's Blues" -- but, ... U know, I was thinking about getting SOUNDS of BLACKNESS cuz it has "OPTIMISTIC" on it, but I want to hear it first. Damn. Nothing much 2 write. Zoe Baird withdrew from her Atty. General position becuz of illegal aliens from Peru that worked at her house ... Oh, I was talking w/ Chris & Becky on the phone on Thursday (this seems like 2 many subject changes. I know, but it should stay on the same topic for the time being, I hope) -- So, anyways, Becky was rattling on about this letter she wrote to Senator Paul Simon persuading him to become pro-life. Come on. He's not gonna change his mind becuz of one 14-year-old blonde girl from Bolingbrook who thinks that mothers have come murderers ³. Actually, I'm writing a letter to Paul myself, which pleads to disregard Becky's letter. It's not really for any purpose, becuz my letter is of the same piddly importance, too, but it A) gives me an excuse to write to a US Senator B) gives me an excuse to attack pro-lifers and C) I don't know -- it just seemed like a fun thing to do, -- Anyways, I'm not pro-choice by the conventional sense of the word -- becuz I don't believe KILL THE KIDS! or anything like Mrs Gawlik sez ⁴, but I do believe women should have the right to choose ⁵. Well, Shane would like 2 read this, so I shall leave U with some words o' wisdom: HAVE a Nice DAY
-- JMC 11:50 am

1 Shane Cr3ma sat in front of me in 9th-grade geometry class.

2 I feel like this statement speaks volumes about my musical tastes, then and now.

3 One of the best things about being friends with B3cky R0senmayer in high school was that she was a staunch conservative Catholic, and we used to argue politics all the time.

4 Gawlik was my 8th-grade English teacher and one of the worst teachers I've ever had. Still, I'm not sure she ever said, or even implied, "KILL THE KIDS!"; there was a rumor that her daughter had had an abortion, but seriously, that was it.

5 Note that I've said, essentially: "I'm not what you'd call pro-choice, but I do believe a woman should have the right to choose." Umm?

January 24, 1994

2005-01-24T23:58:00.000-08:00

Now, an ordinary citizen might think to him/herself: Well, I guess second semester has started and our little friends at Bolingbrook High School whom we are quite fonding of reading about are on a brand-spanking-new schedule. Not so fast, Pedro!¹ Actually, Mrs Weg3rich ² is crocheting in the corner of the auditorium as we sit here in 4th Period Study Hall, part of our FINALS "WEEK" schedule, seeing as school was cancelled on Jan 18-19 due to extreme weather/temperature conditions (How does 25° below sound?)³. So now I'm writing notes to Winter H@rt & Regan Bi3lby, becuz for some reason Stacie & Katy want to make me paranoid. I don't know why; maybe becuz ... well, I don't know. Notes fascinate me. I'd like to take them all & type them all up and publish them as correspondences. Stacie's now passing around notes I've written to her. Some strange kid is asking me who I am. Apparently he knows Stacie, though, so it's like one of those instances when I want to say, "Hey, she's my girlfriend," but I can't really, due to the circumstances. Katy has just been sent down to the end of the row for talking (?!) Maybe I should study biology. But I heard (from Shanna & Katy) that it wasn't that hard. Shanna's birthday, by the way, is April 8. Just thought I'd throw that in there. Umm ... which reminds me ... Ryan & I have been talking lately about ... well, let's just say the problems of a long-term relationship (we're talking 3 mos. on Saturday for me; Ryan & Shanna are about 2 mos and a week). Becuz U know there comes a time when you're not thinking about your girlfriend all the time.

And really, what is love? I'm not saying I'm going to be doing anything drastic; I still love (?) Stacie. I mean, I guess I love her. Okay, yes I do. But do I know the true meaning of love? It is the best relationship I've ever had, and no one else, I think could replace her and still have the same loving relationship that we have, but... I guess what I'm getting at is... They say it's better to love than to "LUV" (infatuation), but with infatuation, there's that MAGIC SPARK. At least for me it seems that way. But then it goes back to the fact that maybe I haven't experienced true love ⁴. Katie 5zum ⁵. Ryan claims that (from personal experience and otherwise) she's real easy to get hooked on. She was the 3rd person I was thinking of when I wrote "Sweet,"⁶ and I think I'm developing a Danielle/Shanna infatuation for her. Notice how all of them have come at the beginning of the year. And I guess Wendie ⁷, too, would fall into that batch. Ryan says he's having the same problem, but to me it seems like he probably loves Shanna more than I love Stacie ... (?) ... and I kinda feel jealous, maybe becuz I coulda been going out w/ her, too. I mean, I was first ⁸. His problems are w/ Jamie Z!te, who constantly flirts w/ him in chemistry. Mine are w/ Katie. We hope they'll be worked out.
--JMC 11:54 am

1 This sentence strikes me as possibly influenced by Dave Letterman.

2 Somewhat dotty older woman officially employed in the foreign language department (she spoke German) but not a teacher; her actual position was always uncertain.

3 During the two days off, my family and I braved the cold to see Schindler's List, but otherwise I tiptoed around the men installing a new staircase banister in our house and pretty much just played computer games all day.

4 At this point I can say with certainty that I've been in love, and yet that whole "magic spark" problem is still something I grapple with. Odd, though: I thought that I'd first theorized about it when I was 19, not 14.

5 A short, perky brown-haired soccer-playin' kinda gal: more here.

6 A poem I wrote that ended up being published in the Phoenix, the school literary magazine:

sweet
darkhaired mystique
is what it is
curiosity of green boots &
white t-shirts
simplicity &
a short pure kiss
with pianos and
such is what
is incredibly attractive
to me

7 Wendie was a girl I met at Illinois Summer School for the Arts in 1993 and became borderline-creepily obsessed with. You can expect more of that story come July sometime.

8 I dated Shanna for all of a day the previous spring; the possibility of the relationship had been slowly building for weeks, and then she broke up with me suddenly with barely any explanation. Again, more on that soon.

January 23, 1995

2005-01-23T11:38:00.000-08:00

It's the beginning of a new semester, always a little odd at first, but something we all grow into. It's something you have to get used to, even though it may be slightly unpleasant. That's why we rely on the comfort of tradition & exact same chemistry table / lab groups, but really wish there would be more of a balance & not an empty half of the room. And of course there's the good old physical education, but minus the pleasures & people to fall back on when the going gets tough, no more Jason Cudeb3cs or Jason J0rdans to at least have meaningful conversations with. God, the lonely hours I will spend without the comfort of a good fresh sheet of paper to scribble these words on -- the agonizing minutes of sweating, basketball with Steve K0ven ¹ or other uninteresting souls -- just standing there -- oh, why did I not realize all that was good about Chris when I saw him daily last year? First semester P.E. w/ Jason Cudeb3c & Marty Kruszk@². Did I ever luck out my sophomore year ... did I ever. And even without the realization of Chris, at least I saw him on a different level, as a not-very-good basketball player, who was sort of shy, but we let him in because who were we anyway, all ragtags, Dan W0lfe's outside shots, inevitably (ineluctably) followed by a resounding "I suck!" at the first instant the ball hit the metal rim -- that was us. And P.E. is just so awkward without friends. So very awkward, and especially for me coming from my shielded honors classes into this free-for-all. I mean, it is so much varied than elementary/middle school, my classes are -- that goes without saying -- but you realize, there are a whole lotta kids out there I'm not seeing every day. I guess that goes for everybody. -- Forgive my delay (punctuated by the dash), but I have only now returned from a rousing game of Upwords with the fam, highly entertaining shit, I must say, non-sarcastically. It was, as they say, good clean fun. But that also explains the interruption of thought. Which is why I have nothing else to say. Hmm... have you ever just been -- not romantically attracted to a person -- but more intrigued about, kind of like you enjoy talking about them a lot, and harboring a sort of "affection" for, even though (I repeat) there is no romantic interest. That's been troubling me, but I can't say that I've ever really reached that point.³ But you know how I can't define love (see Jan 94). How many people have I thought I loved? How many have I harbored an affection for? Chris is the only boy that has gotten that far, but I can't say as I'm really interested anymore. Maybe just when I think about it. He doesn't invade my thoughts. He's sixteen today, the boy. Aahh... I resort to my little teenage love curiosities once again. But I hope they're nice to read about, if nothing else. I guess what I'm driving at is like on TV, someone will say "so-and-so's great" & someone else will say "what's going on with so-and-so and you?" and the first person will say "oh, nothing, we're just friends." But this is usually a lie anyway, because there is something going on. So can it ever really be true that you can talk about someone so much & just think they're great for the sole reason of being great? There's probably some unwritten movie dialogue rule siding for or against me. I should ask Dan W0lfe. Cripes, that took up a whole page, or at least the equivalent of it... Well anyway -- just off on my little ponderings -- JMC 10:10 PM

¹ By this point, Steve had turned into a gearhead who had a mullet and listened to Rush. The fact that he also had dropped out of honors classes, and thus I only saw him in gym, only heightened our drifting apart.

² Kruszk@ was a gym teacher, who once asked me, dripping with condescension, "So Cunningh@m, what'd you get from San-tee Claus this year?"

³ I'm pretty sure I'm referring here to Carolyn M@rr, who I liked and respected as an intellectual equal, a sort of affection that was different from a full-on crush and thus somewhat new to me.

January 22, 1993

2005-01-22T10:31:00.000-08:00

Anyways, more on the Bruessel death ¹ -- She died either Wed or Tue nite, I don't know which. I seem to think it was Tuesday cuz that's what Chris T0desco sed - & he would know cuz his paretns run the choir at St. Dominic's and she was in it. Damn. I only wish I hadn't made fun of her, especially when Steve + I were gonna prank her and say it was her long-lost cousin Olga -- or when we were imitating her when she said to Maria, "Maria, you can't carry that water in the hallway." - She was nice, though. A good decent woman. I was reading the obituaries, U know, and I found out that she was like President of the Filipino Friendship Society ² or something for the entire western suburbs -- U know cuz I don't realize that she was actually someone. Well, another death. It seems like there have been more & more lately. People I know. -- I don't mean to rush out of the subject or anything, but I was thinking about doing another music survey. Like I did in May '92 ³. I've got about 100 copies of a survey form, asking the questions: GENDER (M/F), RACE or ETHNIC GROUP (Black/White/Asian/Hispanic), FAVORITE MUSIC RADIO STATION, 2nd FAVORITE, FAVORITE MUSICAL ARTIST, and Top 5 Songs. I was going 2 have Steve or Ryan or Chris or Jay pass them out 2 their homerooms, which is the best class 2 do it in becuz it wouldn't distract from the class and it has the best RANDOM students -- good racial mixes, etc. Hmmm... so that will be on Monday, hopefully. I'll get U results as soon as possible. MY TOP Five stands as follows: 1. OPTIMISTIC - Sounds of Blackness 2. U - Arrested Development 3. I GOT A MAN - Positive K 4. IT'S GONNA BE A LOVELY DAY - The S.O.U.L. S.Y.S.T.E.M. 5. GET AWAY - Bobby Brown. If I were to venture into the realms of below the top five, U would see such songs as "Sweet Thing" by Mary J. Blige and "I Got a Thang 4 Ya!" by Lo-Key? or "Two Can Play at That Game," a cut off the Bobby Brown Bobby CD. But I'm not venturing, so U won't see that. Well, actually, U did since U just saw it when I wrote it there -- HEY, Bill Clinton's been President for 48 hours and 53 minutes!
-- JMC 11:53 am

1 Pacita Bru3ssels was a secretary at Humphrey Middle School, ripe for mockery because she was sort of old and out of it and spoke in a soft but thick accent.

2 At 1,315 people (2.3% of the total population), Filipinos represent the largest Asian ethnic group in Bolingbrook, Illinois, closely followed by Indians at 2.0%.

3 In the 1992 survey, I asked various classmates only what their five favorite songs of the moment were. I was hoping that the results would look something like the Billboard Hot 100 and was surprised when some responses fell outside the world of current, popular hits -- e.g., Sex Pistols and Charlatans UK -- which were nowhere near my radar at the time.

January 21, 1996

2005-01-21T00:38:00.000-08:00

Only now do I realize that I scribbled "1995" two entries ago. Ah, well, I was mad, forgive me. But by now you should realize two things: a) I am seldom true to any promises I make, & b) I am fond of marking momentous occasions. The latter came into play today as 1/21/96 marked the first, & let's hope the last time, I was carded at a movie theater ¹. Adam & I had gone to see the much-hyped Twelve Monkeys & well, I'm going to try not to attach too much blame to him for proceeding directly to the only middle-aged cashier, but she fucking asks us how old we are & if she can see IDs! It was cruel & insulting, because I'm not so sure two months from now I'm going to be so much more mature as a wise 17-year-old, and then, when you think about it, I must be a lot more mature than a substantial amount of post-sixteeners. Suck these, Jack Valenti. The funny thing, of course, is that it was indeed the first time, and I'd gotten into Natural Born Killers (mega-violence & sex) when I was 15, Interview with the Vampire, The Crow, etc. (why were these all movies with Ryan, I'm wondering? did I get in because of his then-beard ², now recently shorn?). Dracula when I was 13, though I didn't buy the ticket ³. Whatever. It'll change soon enough. The rest of this weekend was a bizarre blend of pleasant relaxation & down-to-the-last-minute/against-the-wire things -- well, really just my Hamline Univ. scholarship application, which I was putting the finishing touches on barely nine minutes before the post office closed. It got there, though. So, I mean, apart from that, it was pleasant, if not boring. Attended Jay J0rdan's 18th birthday party & won a fierce game of pool, Ryan & I vs Katy Blanch@rd & Cyndi J0hnson, in which, if I may boast, I sank all of the balls (we were only playing nine-ball)⁴. Stayed at Stacie's house practically all of Thursday afternoon & evening, something like 3:15-10:45 PM. Had a couple good dreams in between days (hey, that's a Cure song) -- one involved auditioning for a play, but an overwhelming sense of setting in my dining-/living-room, and me sort of running things, like saying hi to Robyn Ly0ns, but calling her "Denise," which would've been an insult because that's implying that I though Robyn was as large as Denise C0bb & easily get them confused ⁵... And then, whatever, but I saw some guy who I guess is on Saturday Night Live, but I couldn't remember his name, and none of my fellow auditioners could either, since virtually nobody watches SNL anymore. The sole name that came to my lips was Cheri Oteri -- but she's a woman of course. Turned out to be Will Ferrell ⁶, as I discovered last night. That's kind of pointless, but who cares? A sense of blackness, then a dark overcast, very early spring or very late autumn sky, like a scene out of a foreign city in a foreign movie where white Volkswagens are always parked on steep cobbled streets, under balconies with flower pots. Don't know how that came into play or what it signifies. Maybe it'll all come to me later...
Good night -
JMC 11:37 pm

1 It actually wasn't the last time! A few weeks later, I was carded trying to see Four Rooms.

2 Ryan had grown a beard for the All-State play two years in a row (Man of LaMancha and Fiddler on the Roof), which certainly called attention to himself, as having a beard at that age was a pretty big deal. Teachers, even, made jokes about him all the time.

3 It was a cast party for A Midsummer Night's Dream.

4 I'm perfectly comfortable with this boast, since I was then, and am now, no better at pool than I am at bowling or any sport or game that requires a modicum of coordination.

5 As it was, both were hefty African-American girls.

6 ! (You mean there was a time when Will Ferrell wasn't a household name?)

January 20, 1993

2005-01-20T13:37:00.000-08:00

By now, Bill Clinton has been sworn in and has been President of the United States of AMERICA * for approximately 32 minutes. Yay! But seriously, I was reading Steve's ¹ "Just as Good as a One-Act Play" plays, and it struck a chord in my mind becuz I've got to start working on Part X -- Hey, I'm not gonna let Ryan's incapabilities ² get in the way of my outstanding playwrighting. Hmmm ... I wonder if they spell it that way - "PLAYWRIGHTING" - I don't know. Maybe I'll coin it. But, anyways, Steve has written like 60 pages of notebook paper full of these plays which include such offbeat and quasi-humorous characters such as Anne, George Stephanopolous, J0e Triner (Steve's health teacher), the Spoon Guy from Baskin-Robbins, Melanie Hutsell, Robert M. Haft (President, Crown Books. ["At $19.95, Danielle Steel's Jewels costs too much, so I priced it at $10.95"]), Lorne Michaels, Kevin Meehan ³, Kevin Nealon, the entire cast of Saturday Night Live, Jerry Seinfeld, and Dagmar (Steve's model girlfriend). I really wish that Ryan would finish up Part IX, though, cuz it's easier for me to write if I have something to follow. I mean, I know the general plot, but I need some one-liners to allude to or something. Bill Clinton has been President for approximately 44 minutes. Just thought I'd let U know in case U were wondering. Actually, his real name is WILLIAM JEFFERSON BLYTHE III, but that whole stepfather deal resulted in his name change. It's ironic, too, that his middle name is Jefferson becuz he went to the White House by bus from MONTICELLO in Virginia. Which is also ironic because his mom's name is Virginia Kelley. Which is doubly ironic becuz I always picture Virginia as being green -- not necessarily kelly green, but green nonetheless -- U know on the map. If it's not green, it should be. Maybe I'll protest Rand McNally, whose store I visited when I was at the WOODFIELD MALL. Now this is interesting; Am@nda Br0nersky (BITCH) just asked Sinny who he was going with and he kind of shook his head or shrugged or something. I don't know, but there was no vocal movement whatsoever. Speaking of Rontaya, her sister's kinda hot too. Her name's Shaista - I believe that's the correct spelling, and she's in my Spanish class too. But, see, I can't sit by them anymore cuz Senora Rosa's seating chart puts me 2 rows away from them. Damn. Still thinking about Danielle...
JMC 11:55 am

¹ Steve K0ven was my best friend from 8th-9th grade.

² Ryan B. had volunteered to write Part IX of the series but was apparently dragging his feet.

³ Steve's 8th-grade social-studies teacher

January 19, 1993

2005-01-19T01:18:00.000-08:00

First day o' second semester. I am in homeroom once again, and incidentally, Sinny just walked in cuz he couldn't find the classroom. I suppose he's another Marcus, if U know what I mean.¹ But anyways, all has gone well thus far. English is kinda boring now with the absence of KRISTY RAV3N, Becky R0senmayer + Clarissa, but, still, I have few complaints. What can be interpreted as good news is the fact that Danielle's in my 2nd, 3rd, + 4th period classes which might attract me to her more. Especially in Speech/Theatre, where I might get 2 do stuff w/her. That actually looks like a good class becuz there are a lot of hands-on activities. Although I don't know how much writing we'll do. Health is OK too, but it might be kinda boring. As I'm sure I'm boring U with this senseless yapping about my classes. And speaking in incomplete sentences. So I was at. The mall yesterday. In Woodfield. And I got the sheet music for the soundtrack to "Boomerang", which I saw FRIDAY (the movie) and will elaborate on later. Plus, I got this nifty poster that sez "If everyone's brain was on drugs, then it would be..." and it showed like Dan + Dave - with Dan frying in the pan as an egg and Dave on the side cracked. Actually, that should be the other way around becuz, of course, Dan O'Brien was the one who failed 2 qualify for the OLYMPIC GAMES, while Dave Johnson didn't. Also, it had Michael Jackson as an egg (brain on drugs): 1975 - brown egg TODAY - white egg, if U get the symbolism -- And this new song he has out -- "Heal the World"? What is this shit? I mean, it's a good message and all, but this sappy folksy shit -- give me a break. I'm sorry, but really? Anyways, that about wraps it up for now becuz we have to leave in 3 minutes. Normally, I'd keep writing, but this seating position in the back corner has toyed with my mind
--JMC 11:53 am

1 Not really. Although I suspect that "Marcus" refers to a certain star running back listed here.

January 17, 1996

2005-01-17T11:05:00.000-08:00

I am presently 60% through with my finals on this foggy day in Jan. & things seem to be looking up. First of all, the Strle situation ¹ was resolved yesterday when I worked furiously, from 2nd-6th period, to finish (or even begin!) that lab, and was able to hand it in seventh period without any difference in grade. Little did I know, of course, that he ended up accepting them right this very morning, too, but blurting out answers to the psych test in class while simultaneously making a data chart, markers sprawled out on my desk, was a fun, worthwhile experience. I should have an "A" in physics, seeing as the most I could've missed on the final was probably 5 out of 50 and that doesn't even count the 20 x-credit points he seemingly just gave me (it was for a homework notebook that I turned in for the hell of it; I didn't actually expect that without any actual notes, I'd still end up with maximum extra-credit). Also, I am proud to announce that I pulled off a "B" in calculus this semester -- God love the genius who determined that exams would only account for 1/4 of the semester grade, since I pretty much bombed the final... God love Kathy M0gy's ² generous curve, too. That's all I cared about -- a "B," seeing as an "A" was mathematically impossible & a bit of a joke. I just took psychology right now, and to tell you the truth, I don't really care what I got. I mean, I figure I got more than half right, and with my quarter scores in the low 100's (104.4%), I'm not in any trouble at all with a 50%. Not that I'd get that low, but you know what I mean.

1 R@y Strl3 was my physics teacher, a tall, bearded, loose-limbed dude who always seemed to be scowling about something or other. The "situation" referenced was the fact that I completely forgot about a particular lab assignment and was afraid I'd get a zero if I didn't turn it in during the early-morning class period.

2 My calculus teacher, a mostly genial woman with what my friend Adam called "birthin' hips."

January 15, 1995

2005-01-15T14:26:00.000-08:00

Just about a half-hour ago, I finished typing up my chemistry notes for the final, a process that took about five hours, including time for dinner. This is killer, how they put you through this insane finals ritual. But I'm feeling more than confident, especially since all I need is an 80% on this thing, as I have just barely managed to get A's in the class the last two quarters. Enough already though. I should be using this time for cooling off. Veruca Salt's, been in my mind the last two days, with their highly infectious song "Number One Blind." And this is another thing about this studying business -- because of course, I must have some audio stimulation, I am bombarded by song after song on the radio, most songs I have no desire to hear because I've heard them damn often enough -- and everything new sounds the same anyway -- I keep running through CDs I haven't listened to for a good long time -- and sometimes, I just need not silence, but anything different. But God, did I ever accomplish what I needed to. You know, the day's over, but I feel good about what I did. I'm growing weary. I think I've just about exhausted this issue of Rolling Stone ... where's that soda pop I had? Aaah ... It was over sitting on my "wonderfully cluttered" desk, amid cassette tapes & first-aid kits & magazines & books & trophies & Canadian flags. You know, the usual. The point is I found my drink. Let's see ... I should set some goals for myself, actually not really goals -- but Things to Do. What I really mean to say is -- Jesus, I can't concentrate at all tonight -- I want to see that movie Pulp Fiction and everyone keeps saying -- well nothing really specific -- but talkin & talkin good shit about this intriguing flick. And I, myself, have to wait for Marie & Chris to be able to see it with me -- because we made a promise to see it together. But I wanna wanna wanna. Kill me. Shame on me. Immerse me in culture and tell me all I want to know. I thought this didn't have caffeine in it -- why does it make me jittery? I want to be independent. If this mood were a band, it would be Luscious Jackson. Then again, I've got other shit swimming in my cool red liquified mind. Stop me please. (No affectations here; I mean, I'm not trying to be all "angsty" or whatnot -- I just seriously feel like this. Shut up.¹)
--JMC 10:14 PM

1 In some ways, the stilted pretentiousness of this entry embarrasses me more than anything else I've posted so far!

January 14, 1994

2005-01-14T01:05:00.000-08:00

Today has been officially proclaimed by me as "Celebrate Your German Heritage Day." Although I just decided that not more than a minute ago, I think it makes sense, seeing as fritag is one of about five German words I know, PLUS we sang and analyzed some little German death tune in Sunrise¹ this morning (Mark Buechs3l, Mr. Ketchup himself ², even translated the piece for us; something about rest in piece: Ruhn...). But anyways, seeing as I myself have 1/8 German blood, I figured I could get in on the act myself. Maybe I'll change my name to Helmut and eat sauerkraut all day. Or not. Thought for the day: (although not related to Germany) If any of the four major TV networks offered Mr Kill ³ a lucrative deal to show his life story in some big-time sweeps month ("Not bloody likely!" But we're talking hypothetically here), in an exposé entitled BERNIE K!LL: Algebra Teacher, it would probably be NBC, seeing as they already have a contract with Homicide: Life on the Street's Ned Beatty (most famous for the 1972 Burt Reynolds movie Deliverance) who would be perfect for the role. Think about it. Picture Beatty with thick-framed glasses ... Speaking of educators, Mr Anderson ... oh wait, I said educators now, didn't I? Ah yes ... I meant to say classroom supervisor and personally depressed psychotic ⁴. Apparently, our friend Richard (who has decided to take the rest of the year off, in effect, eliminating sectionals, section leaders, the Jan 23 Schubert recital, state music contest, the SICA contest, and just about everything else in order to become more like a regular choir -- to have what he calls a "laid-back" style ⁵) said today in Concert Choir that there are 40,000 homeless people in Chicago, and when someone told him there weren't that many, Anderson replied, "Well, tell that to the asshole on Channel 9 I heard it from." -JMC 12:19 pm

1 In 10th and 11th grades, I sang baritone in the Sunrise Singers choir, so named because we met before school, at 7 AM.

2 Mark was a lanky, fey foreign-exchange student from Germany; "Mr. Ketchup" refers to some joke he made while on a choir field trip that I don't totally remember now.

3 My 10th-grade advanced algebra teacher, notable mostly for his psoriasis and his habit of tucking his left hand behind the seat of his pants while writing on the chalkboard.

4 "Personally depressed": heh, as opposed to what? Mr. Anderson was the choir director through my sophomore year, after which he was fired for his obvious mental instabilities (most apparent when he would erupt at us for no apparent reason). (I also heard rumors of his having taken photos of female students in bathing suits and someone having found a porn video in the VCR in his office.)

5 This was particularly strange because he was known for being such a hard-ass and slavedriver most of the time.

January 13, 1995

2005-01-13T01:29:00.000-08:00

I don't know where my "Lockport Strike n Spare Bowling" pen disappeared. It was a beautiful pen; that is, it's writing style was quite nice and easy. I feel like I'm straining with this thing. Well, it's been an eventful eight days since I last wrote, especially in terms of my story above. The entire weekend last was just a really enjoyable time & I wish to always keep it in my memory, because it was just really enjoyable. I don't quite know what to say without delving into a full-fledged account of it. Truthfully, I'd like to maybe turn it into a narrative short story. But I guess the upshot is that Chris & I remained close throughout the weekend and slept on each other's shoulders on the way home, much to the dismay/curiosity of Adam Gyn@c, whom we all dubbed "the vampire," for no particular reason except to talk about him while he was present, which was pretty much always. He latched on, like a leech, and expected that if he were hungry, we would accompany him. But this all must be saved. The ride home made me feel good. God, it was great. What else do I say? I had to comfort the boy because he was feeling depressed Saturday night, and I guess we all were, sitting among freshly-mopped McDonald's floors, eating meaningless not-quite-right fish sandwiches, an off-taste, little Chris frowning about L@nay Martin's ¹ screaming at him to hurry up when a homeless man approached -- Chris empied his pockets... This is too involved... Such rampant homophobia.² But listen to what Marie told me this morning, or listen to what she implied. Go on, listen. Call the girl up. Well, she implied to me that Chris & Laurie have, so to speak, had sex. Marie agreed that it ruins the notion of Chris-ism. That's not what he should be about. Well, I shouldn't say what he should be about, because that's just how Laurie is, I think, treating him as her little pet, saying how she wanted to "deflower" him -- and just because she adores him -- not because she truly loves him... I don't like that image of them. Just like Meredith & Scott ³ -- Let's go slice that fat bastard up...⁴
JMC 2:11 pm

1 One of the parent chaperones on the IHSTF trip. She had a son named Chris, who probably catches a lot of flak now.

2 I'm not sure exactly what this refers to. I was probably being sensitive about certain people's reactions ... but to what?

3 I had a crush on Mered!th Kas0wicz, who was dating Sc0tt Malz@hn, but I don't understand the analogy: did I feel, perhaps, like they didn't belong together for some reason?

⁴ A quote from a Seinfeld episode that aired in spring 1993, which I suppose I'm applying to the stocky Malz@hn, but again, I'm not really sure why. Sorry, I'm no help today!

January 11, 1996

2005-01-11T11:15:00.000-08:00

You know why I am the coolest? I have not yet written "1995" erroneously on any homework assignment, college application, etc., whatsoever. That's why, since it's probably the first time in my life. But anyway, as I may have mentioned before -- I don't remember -- finals are upcoming next week & the end of the semester is upon us, which calls for a time of reflection & meditation on being 7/8 complete with high school. I don't know whether this has anything or not to do with what I'm talking about, but it's kind of been pissing me off lately that I probably won't get to participate in any Scholastic Bowl meets because of the musical. The connection may be that I'd like to do all I can before I make like the Ramones and say "¡Adios Amigos!" But that's what I've been feeling. On the surface, I like Scholastic Bowl somewhat better, but you gotta figure that after Guys & Dolls is all over, I'll be glad I did it. (I've simply forgotten that at this point, it's not appropriate to say that you'll make it -- even though, come on, gimme a break, she needs all the guys she can get, and forgive my pomposity, but I'm one of the premiere ones ¹) Just needed to rationalize that within myself for a moment. I haven't much thought about leaving everybody, but I guess that's what the new year does to you, when you realize that it is 1996, the year that you've known forever is your high school graduation. Anyway, I had a few more dreams lately, but they're recorded elsewhere; they were all last night actually & pretty bizarre. Hmmm ... new topic ... ta ta ta ta ta ... no new loves in my life, I don't think. That gets pretty boring after a while, when there's not -- suddenly, pop! -- a new girl or boy to start keeping your daydreaming busy, every 90 mins or whatever the interval is (don't have to know it for the psych final; not going to bother, since I spent enough time making a study guide tonight). [...] Gotta sleep now. Better entry soon (at least before Monday) JMC 11:52 PM

1 Which maybe explains why I was disappointed when I was cast in the non-singing role of Lt. Brannigan.

January 10, 1994

2005-01-10T10:50:00.000-08:00

I've decided to delight you folks ¹ with a dream I had last night (and can I ask you a question? Do I or do I not have better handwriting than Dave D0re? Well, I suppose you wouldn't know.) I'm walking down the streets of Seattle ² when a woman with two daughters (like 7 and 4 or something) approaches me and asks me if I know where a certain place is. Sure, I say, I'll take you there. So suddenly we approach a cornfield right then and there, and of course, we can't walk directly through the cornfield because there's quite a few piles of cattle excretion. So we walk around the cornfield, just as a jaguar runs by. It wasn't a real jaguar, mind you, probably more like a cartoon jaguar or the logo for the NFL Jacksonville franchise, but scary nonetheless. But now where is the woman or the cornfield, because I'm standing outside a cabin with all the lights out inside. In my hands is a present for Mr. Wilson ³, who is holding a party for all of his former geometry students. The room must be dark because the jaguar is inside and if it were light, it might start attacking people. So just as I hand Mr W his present, which is for some reason abstract (humor), the lights go on, he thanks me, and ... the jaguar doesn't do anything. End. -- JMC 1:20 pm

1 Early in high school (though not so much later) I imagined my journal as a document intended for a public audience, if not at the time then perhaps later in my life. (For the record, I wasn't imagining a serialized blog, haha.)

2 My family took a vacation there the previous summer.

3 My 9th-grade geometry teacher.

January 8, 1996

2005-01-08T23:58:00.000-08:00

Waiting until the last minute, am I? Well, yes, but in compliance with the resolution ¹, it's getting done regardless of how much procrastination was put into it. Not that I deliberately waited. I mean, I was planning on writing on Saturday night when I came home (funny -- I just pictured coming home Sat night but instead my mind recalled a week & a half ago, the previous Saturday, driving home from a holiday afternoon w/ my former English teacher EJ Br0nkema at her house, and when I came home, in out of the dark & snowy skies, there was Polish sausage for dinner & the Bulls were on TV) but after my parents walked out the door on their way to see Nixon (I vow to go this coming weekend)², I retired to my room, determined to only rest my eyes, but instead forming the first few minutes of what would become a 13-hour-sleep-cycle. It was the longest I've slept in God knows when, and man, it felt good, because if you hadn't guessed, I wasn't getting much sleep down-state ³. Not with Mark & Adam blaring the HBO Fri morning and mindlessly chattering under too-well-lit bulbs. Or, for that matter, staying up by own volition Sat morning when we had J0hn Wright and Chris as guests in our room. Three-and-a-half hours of peace/sleep does not suit me well; I know I wasn't appreciating The Musical Comedy Murders (Errors) of 1940 (46) (parentheses indicating Jason Cudeb3c's mistaken title) as much as I could have been, especially since my old school "chum" ("classmate" would probably be a more suitable word, actually) John Schmitt ⁴ was filling a sizable role. And this is Saturday morning I'm talking about again. Overall, I don't think I had as much fun as last year, either, although last year was pretty incomparable, and this year wasn't chopped liver. The same holds true for each, though: as I noted on Jenny Sill!tti's newspaper questionnaire, "Screw the workshops & performances; the best part of the festival is spending 2 days w/good friends.." The way that Stacie, me, Jason, Chris, & John W were bonding, I almost grew to dislike Adam & Mark for whatever reason. But that has other factors, too, like Adam's conspicuous grumpiness at Denny's Sat afternoon (having something, I think, to do with Zippy ⁵, who incidentally broke up w/ Jase today ... I think it's finally over ...). Anyway. But you can't beat the memories: breakfast at McDonald's; the Infamous List (all the girls on the rip ranked by personality & appearance; Mandy & Stacie made a similar one for us), the effeminate, intruding Brandon as I was explaining to Chris why male pool/ping-pong talk made me uncomfortable ⁶, scampering out of The Fantasticks at precisely the right time (during applause; we had to be back at the student center by 10), etc etc. More Adam Gyn@c ⁷ stories. Right now, however, to touch briefly on last night's dreams. (sorry for the abruptness) (but I'd like to go to sleep soon) Some images for you to meditate on: (A) I'm at Carolyn's house, which in the dream looks like Becky's, and her mom's at the dining room table talking about Steely Dan, about Walter Becker, and the lights are off on an overcast afternoon, and I've got a test to study for. (B) Speaking of tests, I'm taking one in the comfort of my living room, something like a nationally-standardized exam for something, and it's a bit difficult, but I don't care. I know it's important, but I just stare blankly and don't try; somehow this worries me. (C) They've published a list in the newspaper of the cultural interests of math students in the area; apparently, one desiring to be included on this list needed to send in a postcard, probably, informing the paper of your musical tastes, etc. For some reason the results are ranked, as in listed by number, although all they are are sample preferences, like #17 reads, "Chris Kal3y, 2 (de lo Ritual)," an album I surmise to be by Jane's Addiction. Funny, I think, though, that Chris was actually published. (D) I'm trying to set up an appointment for a college visit and having an awful time talking face-to-face with a Gwendolyn Brooks / Eileen Ch3rry ⁸ -type woman, who's not helping me out one bit. Later, before my family and I make the trip up to 2814 (as my late grandma's house is now affectionately known ⁹), we decide to stop by Zappa University, in some vaguely northwestern suburb of Chicago. Yes, the college is named after the late musical great, and when I'm told I may get to meet the legend on the college campus tour, I wonder if he'll take offense to me buying his greatest-hits package (as I'm sure Jen Patters0n's dad ¹⁰ would were I tell him -- he told me to steer clear from it, yet I got it for x-mas). The day is morning, sunny and brisk. Dew on the prairie. That's it. --JMC 11:46 PM

1 My new year's resolution for 1996 was to write in my journal at least once every three days.

2 Man, I really didn't get around to that, did I?

3 My final year attending the the Illinois High School Theatre Festival.

4 I went to elementary school with Schmitt, but his family moved to Naperville when we were in middle school.

5 Nickname I bestowed upon Mandy Zeppi3ri, who I found kinda ditzy despite her dating my friend Jason.

6 The same old mock-homoeroticism striking me if not as outright homophobia then as a trivialization of my feelings (particularly for Chris).

7 A friend of mine from roughly 4th-7th grade but after that an increasingly bizarre outcast who I attempted to defame in 10th grade with a list entitled something like 30 REASONS TO DISLIKE OR UTTERLY DISASSOCIATE YOURSELF FROM ADAM GYN@C.

8 Cherry was my creative writing teacher at the Illinois Summer School for the Arts, who I mentioned in the same sentence as G. Brooks probably because both were aging black female writers.

9 Owing to its address: 2814 76th Ct., Elmwood Park, IL.

10 Who owned a used record store in Woodridge and thus had a daughter I befriended senior year who was into bands like Urge Overkill and the Wonder Stuff.

January 7, 1993

2005-01-07T01:01:00.000-08:00

This, without a doubt, is the last journal entry of Volume II -- Watch for Volume III coming soon from JMC Publications which will be from January-May 1993, most likely. Anyways, I'm sitting here in the library again with my geometry homework completed and nothing better 2 do. Well, actually, Mike McCaskey asked me to coach the Bears but I declined. So, I suppose the inevitable question is, since the departure of Anne, what female(s) have stirred my interest lately? Well, there are three, all of which have been mentioned in this journal before: Danielle (I just can't let her go), Rontaya (cuz I've been talking w/her a lot [well, maybe not that much, but enough to be stirred] in Spanish) -- and ... Stacie, although I am hasty to add that she's still just a friend, even though when she pretends she's married to Jay in history, I get jealous becuz I have to be their son. -- That would be the easiest for me to ask out, yet at the same time the hardest -- becuz U know she's a really good friend & I talk 2 here a lot, but at the same time, I don't really think of her romantically. Rontaya hardly knows me, plus she likes Sinny Childr3d, which is a drawback, I suppose. I don't know what Danielle's status is. The clock on the wall here sez that it is 10:21, so I have four more minutes. Damn, but I still like her -- Danielle I mean. It's not like last year when I was obsessed w/her, like w/the Valentine ¹ or anything, but she's in my top 5 for like the 50th week in a row -- not that I've been counting, but I never really liked 5 girls more than Danielle in any given week. Even when I kind of liked Anne, I still dreamed about Tyrone & Terrell & City, USA.² It's an ongoing fantasy that will never end. Well, I'm sorry the end of this is not as party-like as last year's entry, but hey! that was the end of school & this is not, so have a happy day and keep reading JMC Journals ---
JMC 10:25 am
--1993

1 On an ILX thread about your crush history, I wrote the following:

I sent [Danielle] a Valentine on Feb. 14 in which I quoted some Yeats poem, as found in Bartlett's Quotations, theme: love, and then mustered up the courage to call her that night to see if she got it. It was an awkward conversation. She said the quote sounded familiar and thought it was from All My Children. Later in the year she dated P3ter Ros3ngren, who was nearing 6'0" by then -- convinced she only liked tall guys, I propped myself up on several textbooks one day in English class. It didn't work. She went to Spelman College, have no idea what happened after that.)

2 I wrote a short story in fall 1992 that was basically a domestic fantasy, in which Danielle and I were married and had preschool-age twin boys named Tyrone and Terrell. I don't know what City, USA means, though.

January 6, 1993

2005-01-06T21:28:00.000-08:00

As U may have noticed, I've changed back 2 my old "fiesta-like" heading.¹ I think it looks better, to tell you the truth. Anyways, New Year's Eve was really cool cuz I went downtown again to Watertower Place. There wasn't really much 2 do in the mall itself besides peeping in Waldenbooks & Musicland 2 see if they had the DEC 26 Year-End Issue of BILLBOARD. Alas, they didn't -- See, I had gone to virtually every book & music store in the entire Chicago area on my conquest to find this issue: Barnes & Noble, Oakbrook; Borders Book Shoppe, Oakbrook; Waldenbooks, Yorkville; Musicland, Yorkville; B. Dalton, Yorkville; Recordtown, Yorkville; Coconuts, Naperville; Musicland, Aurora; Waldenbooks, Aurora; Recordtown, Aurora; Sam Goody, Aurora; and Kroch's & Brentano's, Aurora. None of them had BILLBOARD. I want a subscription so bad (although Mrs. Offerman ² would be mad at me for saying "so" because it's a cliche), but U know, it cost $205 - A YEAR, no less. Shit. So I have to travel around the greater Chicago area until finally I come across RIZZOLI BOOKSTORES in Chicago, which *SURPRISE SURPRISE* has the Dec 26 issue! -- Actually, Steve has it right now in Spanish class cuz I bought it for $7.95 and loaned it 2 him 2day. Hmm ... so that was cool. I didn't really do much at nite to welcome the new year except watch Channel 2 with B96 personalities Eddie & Jobo obnoxiously chat with people like ... actually, I don't remember who they chatted w/, but it was really obnoxious -- What kind of a name is Jobo?³ WGCI's morning man is Doug Banks, then Shannon Dell or AJ Parker, then Tom Joyner or LaDonna Tiddle, then Mark Young or Rick Party -- All good, nice Christian names, I suppose -- Jobo is what religion? Hindu? He doesn't look Hindu -- He probably doesn't even know what the Vedas is (the Hindu scriptures) Anyways, on JANUARY 1, I finished up some of my homework and watched (of course) college football as Alabama soundly defeated the MIAMI HURRICANES to win the nat'l championship. -- What? We're done! The whole Christmas vacation summed up in 12 pages -- almost one for each day. Now, I suppose you're dying 2 know what the hell's been going on the past few days -- RYAN still isn't finished with Part IX of A One-Act Play ⁴, but it really doesn't matter 2 me cuz I know that he's been under a lot o' stress lately, especially since finals are next week. Speaking of which: This is the schedule: Monday - no finals - regular school day; Tuesday - 1st period final, rest of day pretty much normal; Wednesday - 2nd, 3rd, and 4th period finals then we go home at 12:20; Thursday - 5th, 6th, and 7th period finals then we go home at 12:20. This is cool, though, becuz on Wednesday. I don't think I have 2 come 2 school until like 10:45 becuz I don't have finals in 2nd period (gym) & 3rd period (creative writing) -- Which means that I can come in late on Thursday too w/no final 5th period (lunch/homeroom). Oh well, this is getting boring, so I suppose I should fill U in on some current events. I guess the biggest one is: MIKE DITKA FIRED! Yes, I know, you're probably gasping 4 breath, but it's true, as sure as I am sitting here waching Clarissa glue pictures of her parents as kids to a sheet of notebook paper. Mike McCaskey fired him yesterday at 1:30 pm becuz of the Bears 5-11 record this year. I don't really have very many strong feelings becuz I hate the Bears ⁵, but, personally, I think he should have stayed becuz he knows how 2 coach. I mean, he's only had like 4 losing seasons out 11, y'know, with like 5 straight division titles and a Super Bowl win -- U don't just stop doing that -- He tried to win, It's not like he's losing for money or something -- OR IS HE? Maybe Walter Jacobson should dress up as Mike McCaskey and do an investigative reporting ⁶ -- I don't know. But c'est la vie -- I am a wizard at French, if U didn't know -- That's one of about 5 -- yes, 5! phrases that I know. And it's only cuz I'm 31/64 French. Anyways, they're looking back at the Jaclyn Dowaliby case -- She was murdered back in 1989 and they still haven't found any evidence of who might have killed here -- The latest suspect is Tim Guess, Jaclyn's uncle, and his many spirits -- He says all this stuff like the light in her closet was on, she had a comforter w/lots of animals on it -- All of which is true, but he sez he's never been to her house and that he gets his information from a spirit that inhabits his mind. He's a diagnosed schizophrenic, but still, I don't believe him. Senator Carol Moseley Braun was sworn in yesterday as America's first black woman senator -- An oil spill in Scotland may become the worst spill in history, even surpassing 1988's Exxon Valdez, led by Capt. Joseph Hazelwood. I suppose that's most of it, -- OH wait, other big news -- Chris T0desc0 is finally going out w/ Becky -- I don't know the details of it, but it had something 2 do w/ New Year's Eve and Kristy R@ven. Play auditions are tomorrow for OLIVER!, but guess what? I'm not trying out, much to the chagrin of my parents (well really only my dad) - but U know, there's a whole slew of people who aren't -- like Sara K0larik, Adam Gyn@c, Steve, Clarissa, Deepa Gupt@, Carrie K0lar, Angela Cutl3r -- AND all of these people were in "Midsummer" -- except Clarissa, of course, but she attended the meeting before break for those people who wanted 2 try out. Her hair is red (or light auburn) anyways, so of course she would be scorned -- I'm kidding -- Have a nice day -- JMC 10:25 am

1 I've written the day of the week (Wednesday) in a stylized font, surrounded by various squiggles and shapes as you might see on a party invitation.

2 9th-grade English teacher. Her voice always reminded me of Eleanor Clift's.

3 For the record, it's a nickname for Joe Bohannon. Side note: I had the pleasure of seeing these perved-out leathery 40-somethings live at B96's Halloween Bash in 2003!

4 A One-Act Play was a project I began in 8th grade, a semi-sci-fi and very meta, inside-jokey script. Its characters were mostly me and my classmates (and an endless parade of celebrities who delivered lines swiped from NBC sitcoms and talk shows), and much of its plot revolved around me actually writing the play as I was going along. (Essentially Pirandello meets Charlie Kaufman and the fourth season of Seinfeld -- witness the scene when Ryan goes on Jay Leno to plug the play itself -- though at the time I thought I was so goddamned clever.*) There's also a gradual joke in the play's title, in that what began as a simple experiment on a single looseleaf page blossomed into a 72-page (typed) rambling, multi-chapter behemoth, with contributions from my friends Steve, Ryan, and Chris, that I eventually wrapped up halfway through 10th grade.

*Although to be fair, I'm rereading it now, and at one point this guy Chris Gandhi, who played Bottom in my high-school production of A Midsummer Night's Dream, shows up as that character, who is in turn playing Pyramus in Shakespeare's play-within-a-play "Pyramus and Thisby" and who is then informed that he is simultaneously in another play: the one I'm writing. That totally just blew my mind.

5 Oddly enough, this had nothing to do with a distaste for football. For some reason I think I liked the Green Bay Packers around this time, and before them, the Denver Broncos.

6 A reference to Jacobson's "Mean Street Diary" series for Channel 2 News, in which he disguised himself as a homeless person and lived in a cardboard box on Lower Wacker Drive for 48 hours. It was roundly ridiculed and seen as a low point for the station, the moment when the "line between news and shtick vanished."

January 5, 1995

2005-01-05T09:29:00.000-08:00

So I'm here at the Best Western, right? (EJ Br0nkema-type intro ¹) You know, it's the Illinois High School Theatre Festival and here we are, us six guys (me, Chris, Dan W0lfe, Peter, Mark B3irn & Adam Gri3ve) with this whole roommates deal. We're like living together, on our own, in a condo (complete kitchen set! two stories!), but you know, it's very fashionable these days to act like you're gay, to make fun of it, which, needless to say, fucking pisses me off. What the hell am I supposed to act like when Dan has Chris thrown onto the bed, engaging in full-clothed mock sexual activity, asking him to "squeal"² -- everyone having a good chuckle, of course ³ ... But let me see -- apparently, Mark asked Stacie "what the deal was" between me & Chris because I was becoming perturbed or something -- I didn't realize it was that obvious. But Jesus ... I'm getting disappointed as it becomes apparent that Chris & I can't sleep in the same bed (not that anything would happen) -- and when they do all that shit to him, it just riles up the emotions. Oh, I'm having a good time here, I suppose. When you discount everything I've said. But as I've said, the rest doesn't influence me. Although it's been nice. Things are generally good. What the hell am I saying? It's 12:44 AM. I was all talking to Stacie on the phone. Fuck -- Diane almost caught Chris & I in the girls' penthouse. We were running, you know? That would have been nice to just be in there. Hey, well everything's relatively sane now. Peter's reading, Chris is watching TV, Adam's playing solitaire, Dan & Mark are working on a monologue. Kinda quiet. I don't know why Adam is trying to stay up all night; he seems quiet. I mean, compared to how he's so dramatic-phony lots of times. Chris has absolutely no affectations. We're like this big family -- the 6 of us -- it's like a house here. It's 12:53.
--JMC (do I really have to say?)

1 Ms. Br0nkema had a habit of starting stories with this sort of locution: "So I'm talking to Younce, right?"

2 An homage to Deliverance, obviously.

3 As someone who considered himself bisexual in high school (as I suppose you've guessed by now), I was acutely sensitive to gay-bashing. ("Oh haha, male rape, very funny! (Fuck you.)") Little did I realize that two of my five chuckling housemates that night were gay themselves and would come out after high school.

January 4, 1993

2005-01-04T01:22:00.000-08:00

How cataclysmic -- or catastrophic, perhaps (HEY, IT'S A PABLA DE VOCABULARIO EN ESPANOL) -- Shit -- For some damn reason, I thought that I had left this at school, and I could not write in it -- BUT the truth is that it was in my bookbag all along at home -- DAMMIT -- Well, I suppose I should stop wasting time & recap the last 2 weeks -- FRIDAY DEC 18 -- I was getting really really sick of Anne¹ and so I decided "to hell with going to the damn library" so I stayed home.

Well, I'll tell U² the outcome of it all later -- JMC 7:49

Okay so I ride the bus instead & talk 2 Stacie who was so thoughtful as 2 give me a x-mas card -- So later Anne calls me up & sez "John, where are U" and I say "Home" and she sez "U were supposed 2 go to the library" & I say "I know" and she sez "Why aren't U here" -- And I say, "Becuz I don't want to" -- And she's like "Well, okay, bye" -- Anyways, a couple hours later, Jessie³ calls me up and sez "John, I have just six words for you: I hope U fall into a chasm" and then she hangs up -- But I'm thinking -- hey, that's seven words so I call her back up and say "Jessie, that's seven words" and she sez "Oh well, I'm not very good at counting" -- Apparently, she must have told Anne after that becuz not too long after, she sez "John (this is on the phone -- Anne), I've been thinkin about it, and, it's over. Bye" -- AND I'M ECSTATIC cuz she's finally outta my life -- THANK GOD! I don't like this pen -- it's too fine for me -- I mean how it writes -- as opposed to 2 thick. Anyways, getting back 2 the past few weeks -- I called up Steve (who Winter is now laughing at becuz she's looking at the photos of the play⁴) and I sed what happened and he was posing questions or things that I could tell Jessie like "I have six words for you: Greasy pizza boxes make good pets" or other shit like that -- SATURDAY DEC 19 I went downtown to Chicago & witnessed one of the best films I've ever seen (Incidentally, Winter sez that downtown is beautiful) -- I went 2 the Fine Arts Theatre 2 see "FLIRTING", and if U know the movie, U probably will know why I liked it⁵ -- but it wasn't just becuz it was interracial -- It downplayed that -- Anyways, it was really good -- And Thandie Newton is hot. She plays the Ugandan girl at the rural Australia high-school where the story takes place -- I'll talk more later.
JMC 11:55 am

1 Anne Bazi1e, my very first girlfriend, who I dated for about six weeks from Nov.-Dec. 1992. She was a sophomore. We met in A Midsummer Night's Dream, in which I played Demetrius and she played a fairy.

2 A note about the usage of "U" and "2" in this entry and others from this period: It was less about shorthand (as it's used now with AIM and text-messaging) and more about appearing "cool" and down with black culture (viz. dozens of Prince songs, Hammer's "2 Legit 2 Quit," etc.), which I admired to the point of only being attracted to African American girls. (Anne was mixed: half Haitian, half Belgian.) This entry, however, is nowhere near as bad as one from March 30, 1991:

Don't U be payin' no attention to that damn thing over this page -- Man, homies -- that be 5 years ago. Easter's tomorrow! Easter Vacation! Man, that be dope, boyyy! - Hey, chill - this be the style of talk people use along with baggy mustard-yellow pants with black polka-dots and overalls with one strap down -- (That not be talk, that be dress) Man, there be a big scandal at HHH (I'm in 7th grade -- These girls -- M@ria Akl, Natalie Br00ks, & T@ra Frump -- everybody be sayin' they cheatin' an' all -- & I know they did, but they jus' be denyin' it They also got the lowest grades on the math test too -- Hmmm -- I'm like really into music & music charts -- It's pretty chillin' -- So - the Top 5 Songs This Week -- ? 1 - Coming Out of the Dark - Gloria Estefan (the worst #1 since Madonna's Justify My Love - Jan 5 & 12) 2 - One More Try - Timmy T 3 - This House - Tracie Spencer (she's only 13!) 4. Hold You Tight - Tara Kemp (awesome song! Or Should I say DOPE!) 5 - Londonbeat's I've Been Thinking About You -- One of my favorite TV shows is Fresh Prince of Bel Air -- It's pretty chillin' (& they actually use those words!) In schools, I got this mutha fuckin' teacher -- Mrs. Greever -- The teacher from Hell -- She constantly yells at us & makes us do damn worksheets and shit, I could go on but I don't gots enough room -- Oh yeah, I'z got another honey -- LISA GROVER -- She's the only girl I haven't told anyone about cuz most people know her brother, MARVIN, She's black, but so gorgeous!⁶ I jus' got a couple new tapes, well actually, one -- C&C MUSIC FACTORY, they're pretty dope -- for my B-Day - Yup Yup - 12 years old, God! Well, Homies, gotta go! Stay cool (who am I saying this to -- me 20 years from now?) CHILL! Peace (The Persian Gulf War is Over, Don'tchu Know?)

3 Jessie, was dating my best friend Steve, and as such, the four of us often hung out together. (The two of them were also in the play: she was a fairy, and he was one of the mechanics.)

4 Like many entries from this period, I wrote this entry during homeroom.

5 Not only was I was obsessed with African American culture, I was interested in interracial relationships, specifically those between black women and white men, which were (are) nowhere near as prevalent as vice versa. Several months earlier, I'd read with interest Studs Terkel's Race, which contained an interview with one such couple.

6 The "but" in this sentence grates every single time I read it. Ugh. Incidentally, I'm guessing "another honey" just means a girl I found attractive, because to the best of my recollection, I never even spoke to Lisa ever.

January 3, 1995

2005-01-03T15:53:00.000-08:00

As I've been reading the Great Gatsby for EJ's¹ class (and also as some fine holiday entertainment; no sarcasm intended), I ran across a passage that I think fits these journal entries perfectly: (I'm paraphrasing here, as I don't exactly have my copy with me) "Looking back, I realize you may have falsely gotten the impression that my summer in West Egg consisted only of three evenings, spread out among weeks..." -- Which is also what/how you may have thought about these entries ... that I only talk about parties or Chris C@rley because that is what rules my life, which is frightfully untrue. But I was talking to Jessie Benens0n the other night and she said that it was perfectly fine because "the rest is assumed," which is an explanation that I suppose has its merits. And then again, this is (I'm sorry -- that transition was poor -- I'm not trying to show contrast) all just mine anyway. I guess I'm just trying to provide an accurate portrayal of my life, but I suppose that most of that would be boring. I worry too much about things like this, that don't matter whatsoever. Like that these pages don't seem wide enough. Why, for chrissake, do I have to be so meticulous about my journal margins?

So at the risk of falling back into these habits (neither good nor bad), there are several things that I think need to be discussed that this journal is good for & yes, it is about Chris C@rley, whom I even specifically mentioned in the preceding paragraph & maybe it was just because he was on my mind. I must admit -- I'm slightly disappointed with Diane's² IHSTF³ Penthouse plan; that is, six of us "men" share a room (while Adam Gyn@c & Collin Br0wn are relegated to the DOUBLE ROOM) rather than each of us having separate roommates, the painful part being that Chris was overjoyed when I asked him to be my roommate, a question that had been floating about in my head for about a week now. Actually, more than that -- just check my Vol. 5⁴ for a specific date. But indeed I asked him & the boy wrapped his arms around me. That deserves my patented question mark-exclamation enclosed in parentheses punctuation, but that would ruin it, drive it into sensationalism & making me look like a boy-crazy lonely person, set off by the slightest thing. It was an awfully good feeling, though, all spoiled by this non-chalant -- "oh yeah, there are penthouses" (actually, the board screamed it out in her classroom) remark. And I'm not that hurt by it, I don't think, I guess because I accurately predicted that nothing would come of it, but in these past few weeks, I've been thinking -- "how can I make it work?" and I don't think I need to go into details regarding what I mean. I had it all planned out -- and maybe things are better this way because I'd probably be preoccupied with him the entire time (or maybe I still will). And I thought that maybe I'd scare him and we could never be friends. If Friday night existed, I mean. There's still a glimmer of hope, I guess. But then here comes Mark B3irn, everyone being so non-chalant, saying that Chris is going out with Laurie Paw1ak, who maybe I will harbor an intense dislike for, and me sitting there thinking that she's still seeing Se@n McQuinn & then remembering Marie's comment that the two had went someplace together & Marie wondering if they were going to kiss (because nobody could kiss Chris, she said, he's just like a little brother). And I think the whole thing's wrong, very wrong. It would be something if it were a Jay-Kristine thing because they are both good & both right for each other & happy.⁵ I can't see Chris with anyone at all -- it just ruins everything for me -- that he likes Laurie? I don't like to think that. But I think it will be okay -- for now, I mean. It's not like I'm obsessed -- well, to some extent -- it's just not "ruling my life," which kind of draws everything together. -- JMC 4:21 PM

1 Ms. Ellen J0y (E.J.) Br0nkema, my 11th-grade AP English teacher and the first teacher I'd ever had who I considered a friend, whom I made excuses to hang out with after school, whom I let borrow my Raymond Carver book, whose house I visited during winter break of senior year, etc.

2 Ms. Diane Breining3r.

3 Illinois High School Theatre Festival, an annual three-day event held in January (alternating between University of Illinois and Illinois State University), in which students attend workshops and watch other high schools' dramatic productions. I attended from 1994 to 1996.

4 This journal being Vol. 6.

5 A year later, Jay J0rdan and Kristine Pr0v0 endured one of the worst, most bitter breakups I'd seen. Of course.

Some reflections

2004-12-28T09:18:00.000-08:00

So I won't have any new entries until 2005, since young-me was apparently too busy enjoying his Christmas presents to bother writing in his journal. But I just wanted to let you all know I appreciate the positive response I've gotten so far, especially from those of you who have surfed in from elsewhere.

Going back to these journals has given me odd bouts of nostalgia mixed with faint embarrassment. I didn't think at first I'd have to censor anything, but I guess I forgot about several 1995 entries that actually pain me to look at now. (I'm realizing that during my late teen years, I probably felt less self-conscious about writing about private matters than I did either before or after that period.) On the whole, though, I look at these journals with much bemusement, and the vast majority will be presented completely unadulterated. (Apart from Googleproofing, that is -- although I have a wicked urge to let someone Google themselves and find that one of the hits is some terrible catty remark I made about their sixteen-year-old self.)

Another note, for the curious: the seven journals from which these entries are culled are all Mead 70-page college-rule notebooks. I've chosen to end at 1997 partially because I don't have enough distance yet from more recent events, but mostly because that's when the Mead phase ended and I started writing, with considerably less regularity, in small blank books.

Anyway, have a happy New Year, and stay tuned.

December 25, 1995

2004-12-25T11:14:00.000-08:00

It's been Christmas for about a few minutes now, since I tend to write after midnight nowadays. Ordinarily, I'd be tucked away in my little bed, of course, but I thought it fit to transcribe my thoughts, as they pertain a few things, most my grandmother's death. Which occurred this past evening at 7:30 pm. Quite frankly, I don't have a whole lot to say about it and acutally was ashamed of myself for thinking that the death occurred at a most inopportune time, Christmas Eve, that is. I mean, I'm not six years old and care about presents, first and foremost. I am a rationally-thinking, mature sixteen year old. But it kind of upset me that my dad couldn't be with us for the tradition brother-to-brother gift exchange and Christmas cookie-eating delights that we usually partake in. Oh well. And I should probably mention it now, that we had been expecting her to pass away for quite some time now, since she had pretty much deteriorated both physically and mentally, and it was just a matter of days. I should say that so no one accuses me of not feeling anything. I do feel something, despite the fact that I began laughing once I heard the news (a nervous reaction), but it obviously isn't as intense as if she died when she was in perfect health, like this past summer, when she journeyed to Ireland. It makes everything kind of awkward, though. As for the present, the here and now, I'm typing this away on WordPerfect 6.1¹, listening to my Pizzicato Five CD, not on my portable CD player, but through the computer's CD-ROM drive and the Windows Media Player. All very fancy, I should say, but that's what this new computer's all about. I realize I'll look at this later and laugh at my reaction. Like we'll be living in space in twenty years and the world will be our oyster. This CD's cool enough, I suppose. All in Japanese, and infused with dance-laden pop hooks (God, I could be a rock critic)². It's so much of a step aside from those alternative rock bands we all know and love, but that's both good and band. Don't want to get into it now. I'm hesitating with my typing now because I fear that I'll start writing more seven-word sentences like the one above, and punctuating every comment with some filler like "Well." It's craziness, I tell you. But that just tells me that I should stop for now, becayse I think I've said what I meant to say. Except for maybe I thought I should record my dreams for yesterday: Diane Breining3r³ with Abbeduto-length⁴ hair looking at Adam's Human Animals List⁵. and saying we should put it in the program for the musical; Jay C0llins writing a review of the Jayhawks for journalism class simply to rip the band apart, to spite Dan Piw0warczyk, who in the dream is a slightly embarrassed Jayhawks fan, and me humming a Jayhawks song when I see the idea for the article on paper; in my grandma's house, Shar0n Battista⁶ telling Bob that he was the third man she's seen naked in her entire life, she talking about shower stalls and me standing by; soaping up the sides of those giant castle-like towers so no intruders can enter by hoisting themselves up; I know there must be at least one more. But Santa should be coming soon, and I should be in bed. Or should I?

1 I was toying with keeping a computer-based journal, but it didn't last past Christmas break. A couple months later, I dutifully copied this entry out by hand (!) into my notebook.

2 Heh. Some people seem to think I am.

3 My sophomore-year English teacher and director of the six plays in which I acted in high school: "Midsummer Night's Dream," "See How They Run," "South Pacific," "Rumors," "Lend Me a Tenor," and "Guys and Dolls."

4 Ms. Abbeduto was a French teacher who I never actually had for class. I think "Abbeduto-length" means short.

5 My friend Adam loved coming up with animals to which he could compare our teachers and classmates (cf. 12/20/95 entry re: Genevieve W. looking like a bat). Some were oddly specific, such as "snow owl" (Megan M.), "aardvark" (Collin B.), and, bizarrely, "pigeon with eyes like peeled grapes" (Debbie G.). He kept a handwritten list of his best ones.

6 My friend (and sometimes rival) Ryan's mom. Bob is his dad.

December 20, 1995

2004-12-20T01:11:00.000-08:00

Tonight was quite pleasant, as I still marvel at how immensely satisfying good conversation can be, especially when among people you know and love. It was the Thespian Christmas Party, you know, at A1exia Kruger's house, for she is our President, despite the fact that she doesn't do much -- or so says Adam. He's been doing more than his share, apparently. But that's neither here nor there. Anyhow, quite a few alumni were present: Mike C0rtez (USC), Pe+er Tinaglia (Northwestern), Becki Aske1and (Ill Wesleyan), Sc0tt Malzahn (Valparaiso), Nathan Miku1cik (NIU), Holly Hami1ton (Bradley), etc., the latter having recently been arrested for stealing stop signs. But of course, good Genevieve Webs+er was also accounted for, and she is a sparkling conversationalist, as we chatted about movies and other such things. I really like that girl, to be sure. I honestly do. I was staring at her tonight and thikning she looked like child actress Christina Ricci, but maybe just because of the forehead. Otherwise, she looks like a bat. That's what Adam says, and I agree. I thought Tatyana M. Ali on last night's "Fresh Prince" looked rather Christina Ricci-esque. Genevieve, now at least she's white. She had her coat on the entire evening, too, because she said she was fine, and Alexia asked her if she could remove it for her, and again, she said she was fine. What happened eventually is that everyone kind of split up: in one room, the alumni and the girls who love them (J Sillitti, A Hoffert, M Meier, just absolutely fawning over Tinaglia and Cortez like they were some sort of movie star); in the next, some folks playing a game called Aggravation; and then we (Stacie, myself, Holly, Genevieve, Chris Carley, M@ndy Geiger) playing Scattergories in another room. But it got too loud so we left. It was a fine party overall, but it just got too loud and we wanted our conversation unhampered by that crass commercial alternative rock that kept blaring from the stereo speakers. "Reality Bites"? Give me a fucking break! Counting Crows? Don't think so, pal. And yes, I do realize that that was all me circa February 1994, but that was in my youth and so I have a bit of an excuse.¹ I've grown up tremendously since then. Anyway, it was just Chris and I that got really offended, since he's my buddy in the music department. We make each other tapes and such². So we went to Chili's and it was closed. Daniel H0rn yelling from Mandy's brand new red car, "Hello!" and me thinking what the fuck, you're only at this party because Becky R0senmayer thought you were a Thespian and accidentally slipped you an invitation before she realized it was too late. And then of course we went to Denny's, and of course, typical-typical, Stacie just said "bye" very tersely and left off on her merry way, on her voyage home. I like Stacie very much because she's my best friend and everything, but I don't know if I can always handle her mood swings. As I said to Chris later, I'm a pretty happy-go-lucky guy, and if you're not happy when I am, it's just like, whatever. She had to be home by 11:20 anyway. What happened then was that at Denny's, we pop in and I end up talking with M@rk Beirn and Kyna Smi+h and Becky R0senthal the entire time, because it's not often that I get a chance to talk with them, and they just happened to be there, sitting in a booth, almost ready to go when I showed up. Genevieve and Mandy and Daniel were already at a table, ordering french fry and sandwich-filled baskets, and Chris would make periodic visits to the Mark, etc. table, but I just stayed there the entire time. Talking to Becky mostly, though, because Kyna and Mark together are just, as Becky said, "unnerving." It was quite a good visit and reminded me that I need to call Marie tomorrow to just chat. We haven't personally done so since August and that's quite a long time when you consider that I truly enjoy Marie's company and consider her a good friend of mine. Well, that I must do and a zillion other things. Chris and I decided that we're going to put off seeing "Nixon" until Thursday³, since I'm obligated to have dinner with my great-aunt tomorrow as a sort of a Christmas visit. And I'd truly like to drive up to EJ Br0nkema's house next week sometime. We'll see. It all kind of hinges on my grandma's death, that is, when, in the next few days is she going to actually die. It's hard to talk about it without using such blunt terms, but I mean, Christ, why bother with the euphemisms? She's going to die, and that's it. There's positively nothing erroneous about that statement. Okay, okay. I'll stop with what must be coming off as macho-ism. I won't really know how I feel until it happens. But yeah. Christmas will be kind of weird this year. Let's see. What else went on today that's notable. Nothing much, and that's kind of sad because without a job I have no excuse for not getting things done. Worked a bit on my Duke University application. Talked to Stacie on the phone, had lunch, went over to Stacie's house for like three and a half hours. [...] Much of the afternoon was spent caring for Paula, who was awake for a ridiculously long amount of time, for babies, that is. She'll be three months in six days. And we watched "Jeopardy!" togehter. Ho-hum. I think Adam wants Alexia to be like Stacie is to me. Kyna said something about him having to affirm his heterosexuality, but I don't think that's it. It was a joke anyway. But I just don't see how he's going to accomplish that kind of friendship if he keeps making fun of her constantly. Adam's a very fun person to be around, to talk to, but he can't be very serious at all. He can be serious about things that matter very little, like social etiquette and such, but not really about sex or relationships or things like that. That's what I told Becky tonight, along with the gossip about Ryan and Jes@ida, and about Becky and Steve: people who've had sex.⁴ She's the girl that wanted to know, and I guess I don't care anymore about telling people. Becky took a chance when she told Mandy. Ryan, whatever. He told me he was sorry he wasn't able to make it to my party on Saturday. Don't even give a shit. Hmmmm. [...]

1 It was not even two years prior! Although the next sentence seems to signal that I was speaking at least somewhat ironically.

2 Liner notes to a mix tape I made for Chris two weeks later:

1. "Smooth Control," Dambuilders
The almost-obligatory hard-drivin', fast-playin' punkish-type song that must begin every mix tape. Yeah, I know, it's not like Pennywise punk, but I feel all the cooler for at least knowing who Pennywise is and being able to effectively make an allusion to them in the October 1995 issue of "The Raider Review," thus earning the respect of Jas0n Rainwater. Anyway, the Dambuilders are pretty cool. And this is a pretty good song. Check it out.

2. "Stillness in Time," Jamiroquai
True to your wishes, stated both at the Osman cast party and, I think, at my Christmas fiesta, I included some Jamiroquai on this tape. Described by "Rolling Stone" as, and I paraphrase here, "a salt-and-pepper British combo" whose singer has "a Stevie Wonder jones," Jamiroquai has taken the world by storm, earning the praise of critics and audiences alike, as evidenced by their 8-million-copy-selling debut "Return of the Space Cowboy" and a spot on the main stage of Lollapalooza. Ha ha. Just kidding. Actually, no one outside of Aar0n Marsh has ever heard of them, and I prefer to keep it that way. This is one of the mellower tracks; you'll hear the heavy funk later.

3. "El Camino," The Rake's Progress
I realize now that maybe I should've bought this album when we were at the MusicMart place instead of fellow Buy-Product artist St. Johnny, which I later traded to Jenny Patterson's dad for two bucks. But actually, had I bought this album, whose cover contains a tiger, I would've had two albums in which the cover contains a member of the cat family (the other being the tiger on "Ruby Red"), and that would've been beyond my one-wildcat quota. So this is all I have to offer.

4. "Ponderosa," Tricky
Don't be swayed by Amy Kh@n's hasty judgment of "Maxinquaye." She also has the words Pearl Jam and Alice in Chains scribbled onto her bookbag in black marker, showing she's a true alterna-teen. To quote, "I like the sound of guitars, whether they're heavy or not." In my opinion, this and "Washing Machine" may be the top two albums of 1995. Then again, I only had about a dozen to choose from. You decide for yourself.

5. "Bodhisattva," Steely Dan
The story behind this song: I'm picking my brother up from his guitar lesson some dreary Monday in autumn, and good anti-Alanis, anti-Live boy that I am, I've got the dial tuned to WXRT. Needless to say, this song comes on and I'm so blown away, I slam on the brakes in the middle of Boughton, thus causing a multi-car pile-up and injuring a helpless bicyclist. Okay, slight exaggeration (I've got to stop doing that), but you get the point. Since the song wasn't on my dad's only Steely Dan record, I high-tailed it to the library several days later and picked up the greatest hits compilation. The liner notes were rather skimpy, and because it never cracked the Top 40, I can only tell you that "Bodhisattva" was released sometime between 1972 and 1980.

6. "Hit," The Sugarcubes
I'm kind of annoyed by the fact that I haven't kept in contact with my friend Jessie Benens0n, whom I met at Illinois Summer School for the Arts in 1993, and again saw in 1994 (we were only really friends in 1994; she thought I was a scary stalker-type the year before) At least I mailed her a letter; she's the one who never wrote back. But enough bitching. She supplied me with three items in my music collection, all of which I dubbed off the only CDs she had at the time: Sonic Youth, "Experimental Jet Set..."; PJ Harvey, "4-Track Demos," and of course, this release. Fun fact: Bjork's "Post" is Marie Rutk0ski's #2 album of 1995.

7. "In-Betweener," Sleeper
Could they sound any more like Elastica? I bet lead singer Louise Wener snarls in her videos, too. A shrewd purchase by yours truly at the MusicMart extravaganza, for I like them quite a bit, but I'm stumped as to why anyone would buy a full-price CD single that only contains one track. I mean, you have to figure you're paying a quarter of what it costs for a regular CD for roughly a twelfth of the music. And most singles are songs that have already been released and thus, played on the radio. So just tape em, I say. Or buy the goddamn CD already.

8. "Plastic," P.M. Dawn
Still the only artist by which I've bought two CDs (Arrested Development, The Dambuilders, and Sonic Youth have all had at least one dubbed). Their debut was also the first CD I ever bought, in March 1992, birthday and Catholic confirmation money freshly received. So naturally, P.M. Dawn holds a special place in my heart. Note: the chorus should go, "Plastic, what? Plastic, y'all," NOT "Plastic, what? Basketball" as your good buddy Steve K0ven jokingly claimed one day as he was shooting free throws in my driveway.

9. "White Trash," Southern Culture on the Skids
Man, this song makes me feel dirty. Reminiscent, I think, and you can readily dispute this, of Blues Explosion. To tell you the truth, though, I don't know a whole lot about Southern Culture on the Skids, other than that if you get sick of saying all seven syllables of their name, you can use the acronym SCOTS. It'd save some much-needed breath, and plus, you'll earn the respect of your peers, who will immediately peg you as a rock aficionado, like those Hollywood types who are so absorbed in the industry that they talk about having lunch with "Chuck" Heston. Then again, maybe not.

10. "Africa's Inside Me," Arrested Development
This wasn't coincidental, following a Confederate-flag-raising song with a Black Power anthem. It's all part of my attempt to shake things up as much as possible, juxtaposing black artists with white, trip-hop with rock, slow beats with fast, etc. I think you'll thank me for it later. Unless, of course, you're one of those change-styles-gradually types. If so, then I'm terribly sorry. But you'll live. I hope.

11. "Becuz," Sonic Youth
Okay, if you have this album already, just listen to the song and don't go polluting up the air with your ranting about how mix tapes should expose the recipient to music they haven't heard. Besides, I owe you a Soul Coughing incident, too. If, on the other hand, you don't own this album, then what the hell is your fucking problem? The CD came out on September fucking twenty-sixth, all right? And where were you? Watching re-runs of My Two Dads? I don't fucking think so. You've had your chance, Chris. If this song doesn't entice you to buy the album, you're in a sorrier state than I had thought.

12. "Good," Pizzicato Five
I don't actually think that any of the songs on this album are as good as P5's freak hit of last year, "Twiggy Twiggy (Twiggy vs James Bond)." And there are some tracks on it that just need to be fast-forwarded through (here's a tip to the band: stick to pop; don't try ambient). The reason I like it, though, is its cheesy- and bubble gum- cuteness, ordinarily a potential problem, but also kind of a refreshing dip after listening to serious "alternative rock." Plus, I dig Japanese chicks. Especially when they speak French.

13. "9 Fingers on You," Shudder to Think
I wouldn't go so far as to say it's half the fun, but a good percentage of the fun in listening to this song is knowing the lyrics that lead singer Craig Wedren spouts. Therefore, I've reprinted them here. Turn the volume up and laugh laugh laugh.

Hello It's a long road You've got some ape-guy eight-by-tens and I know what you're thinking You've got to hustle for your muscle machine Hey! I've got nine fingers on you The 10th/pro/get foxy/bottom bin dollar record A record player entitled "Biddy, I Gotta Bump"

14. "Peaches en Regalia," Frank Zappa
This is your first instrumental on the tape and one that I hope you'll enjoy, especially since it isn't exactly a "safe-bet-Chris-will-like-it"...track. I almost said "song" but then was reminded of Debbie (Humphrey band director) Brubeck's rule that "songs" must be sung, and this, of course, is an instrumental. And then I was reminded of a dream I had last week that I was visiting fictitious Zappa University, named after Frank himself. What-evah (pronounce like Aaron Sinclair).

SIDE B

1. "Sophisticated Catchy," Pizzicato Five
So you just flipped the tape. What do you think so far? God, I'm getting so self- conscious, aren't I? Either you've pressed the play button hoping Side B is as good as Side A, or hoping that it will get better soon. Well, I'll alert you to something right now: you're going to be hearing a lot of the same bands, since I think it's only fair someone should hear more than one song by an artist in order to form an informed opinion. Plus, I don't have all that much music to go around. This song, by the way, is the trademark John/Chris quasi-instrumental first track on Side B thing. Think about it.

2. "Christmas at the Zoo," The Flaming Lips
This would be a lot more relevant had I given this tape to you over the holidays, which I had primarily intended. But no matter; it's a good song, anyway, I think. I rather like this Flaming Lips album I bought in late November cuz they understand what I think is basic to my musical tastes: a little off-kilter, but with lots of catchy melodies and good hooks. However, understand that I did not buy "Clouds Taste Metallic" because of what is now known as the "Jelly song"; the Sound Opinions guys just about drooled over it and I thought I might use up my Musicland gift-certificate while I still could.

3. "I Can't Imagine the World Without Me," Echobelly
The last song you're going to hear from my stack of MusicMart purchases (I know, you're crying over the fact you won't hear any Tara Kemp). But what to say about Echobelly? Ignore it if I've already told you this story, but one time I was talking to Kjell and he was going on about how great the Wilco/Jayhawks/(insert roots rock band here) album was, and how the best music is All-American, not that "Euro-crap like Echobelly." I told this to Marie, who then e-mailed me and said that Kjell was full of shit/blatantly lying/etc. because he had once told her how great Echobelly was. I still don't have the definitive answer. I, for one, like this euro-crap for at least one reason: lead singer Sonya Aurora-Madan, is, with Bjork, one of the two cutest women in rock.

4. "Gang of $," Shudder to Think
For some reason, I have nothing whatsoever to say about Shudder to Think, other than that this song, for your reference, also appears on the "Tonnage" CD. ("I Smoke a Lot," "Faster") Therefore, I will address another Washington, D.C., band in this space: Please tell me that some "Red Medicine"-era Fugazi lies ahead for me on a tape sometime, specifically the song "Target," which I heard on the Best of the Big Beat 1995 program, but also remember from that time you played the CD in my room. It's been going through my head lately and to hear it again would brighten my day. Thanks!

5. "Filthy," St. Etienne
When my brother bought this CD, "The Trip-Hop Test," it didn't really match my expectations of it, since all I knew of so-called trip-hop was Portishead and Tricky, and this album contained several 8-minute-long excursions into ambient and, dare I say, techno. Although it took me a while to really appreciate most of the tracks, this tune...right here...won me over instantly. But be patient: at five and a half minutes, it's the longest song on the tape.

6. "Need Some Air," Urge Overkill
Q101's Local Music Showcase Listeners' Poll recently voted Urge Overkill most overrated local artist, but I disagree (that would be an honor reserved for Liz Phair, who's got some clever, punchy songs, but can't sing to save her soul). I think they're quite decent gents, actually, and they've got some lovely songs. If the sound on this track is not quite up to speed with the rest on the tape, it's because my copy of "Exit the Dragon" is a dub courtesy Jennifer Patterson (# 7), whom I forced to lend it to me after she had kept by Dambuilders CD for longer than I had initially had it. Naturally, I wasn't about to ask for it back. But you should note: it is the only non-CD song on the tape, so thank your lucky stars and feel special like you should.

7. "Wild Wood," Paul Weller
Paul Weller, if you're not familiar with him, was the lead singer for British punksters The Jam (1977-1984). He's also put together a solo career in the 90's, which has been described as "tastefully emotional in a soft-soul mode." Yet you wonder: What is Paul Weller (not to be confused with the Minnesota senator Paul Wellstone doing on a trip-hop album? Two words, which should hopefully clear up the confusion: Portishead remix. By placing this song on your tape, I've also included 100% of what I consider the true vocal tracks on "The Trip-Hop Test."

8. "Ono Soul," Thurston Moore
Thurston Moore, if you're not familiar with him, is the lead singer for a New York art-rock band, Sonic Youth (1981-present). He's also put together a solo career in the 90's, which regrettably, I don't have a quote for (damn Spin Alternative Record Guide publishing deadlines!). I do know, however, that this song is from his '95 release "Psychic Hearts." Think maybe I heard it first on WCBR...Anyway, yeah, I'll shut up now. But just remember this: "Thurston Moore: He's one tall motherf**ker."

9. "The Kids," Jamiroquai
Okay, deep breath, just five more to go...So check this out. I'm sitting at home, writing up my psychology notes for the final, right? and I'm listening to the 33 record of Stevie Wonder's "Songs in the Key of Life." I'm on what must be the fourth side (it's a double album) when these stringed instruments kick in, at first only vaguely familiar, and then my God! It's "Gangsta's Paradise" right there on the record, thinly disguised as a ditty called "Pastime Paradise." Okay, forgive me if you knew that Coolio copped off Stevie, but it was a shock to me. By the way, I'm allowed to mention this in the Jamiroquai space since I've a) already talked about them, and b) alluded to Stevie Wonder in the midst of that discussion.

10. "Tomorrow," Morrissey
Although I've liked this song for a while, its presence on your tape is a sheer coincidence, only here because I found the album at the Romeoville Fountaindale Library a few days before I recorded everything. Interesting tidbit: D0ug Beaver won't admit it (because it may infringe upon his masculinity), but he's a Morrissey fan, or at least Liz once said she bought him the "Suedehead" single for his birthday because he liked it. Kind of odd, actually, when your Morrissey's your guilty pleasure, and Bush is the band you go around advertising on your chest.

11. "Overcome," Tricky
I feel it necessary in this space to mention that, because Tricky was once romantically involved with Bjork, and because Bjork's "Post" was Marie Rutk0ski's #2 album of the year, that Marie Rutk0ski's #1 album of the year was "Glow" by The Innocence Mission. Now that that's out of the way, here's another person who doesn't like Tricky: BHS alum Becki Aske1and ('93), who just kind of cringed when she asked me if I liked that "letter from the government" song. Maybe I should write an article for the paper about who did the original versions of songs, since people seem to have little if any clue. I'd start with "Gangsta's Paradise," then proceed with "Black Steel," (Public Enemy/Tricky), "Sweet Jane" (Lou Reed/Cowboy Junkies), etc. It'd be a nice little service to the community.

12. "Teenage Loser Anthem," The Dambuilders
In thinking about this song, I've realized how wrong I was earlier regarding why people buy CD singles. I guess I understand the logic now: maybe you just hear something somewhere and you're unfamiliar with the band and you don't want to take a risk with the entire CD. Like this song for example. Had I not known who the Dambuilders were when I heard it for the first time (JBTV), there's a pretty good bet that I wouldn't have bought the album. Then I got to thinking. Here's a list of 10 great songs I've heard, but whose accompanying CDs are absent on my shelf:

"Hell of a Hat," Mighty Mighty Bosstones
"Bonnie & Clyde," Luna
"Ticking," Loud Lucy
"Dive Bomb," Number One Cup
"Idiot Son," Red Red Meat
"I'm On Fire," Motorhome
"Underground," Ben Folds Five
"Man-Sized Rooster," Supergrass
"Fluffy White Clouds [sic]," The Orb
"Red Right Hand," Nick Cave & Bad Seeds

13. "Valley Girl," Frank Zappa
And then we're back to Frank. What a great 80's song this is, sung by his daughter Moon Unit. Every time I hear it, it reminds me of someone, although I can't quite place who exactly it is. I was thinking Mary O'Connor for a while, or at least Mary's impression of her bitch-punk sister Erin, but that's only the voice. Can't place any faces. But oh well. At least I got it to fit on the tape; that's my genius at work. It fit in its entirety, without such previously-used [last name omitted] methods as splicing or fading. And that's why you've got to give me props.

3 We actually never saw the movie together. I saw it the following summer on video.

4 Six months later, commenting on this entry, I said: "both couples quite unlikely at this point ... that they ever have, that is." Rumors, rumors.

December 18, 1994

2004-12-18T02:08:00.000-08:00

It should be said, I suppose, that the Dec 12 entry¹ was copied over a span of two or three days and I only now finished it so I could write tonight, hence the hurried-looking handwriting. Here I am again, past midnight on an eventful Saturday night outing, when I should really be deep in sleep, resting. It's not like I don't have any free time for the next 2 weeks. It's just I don't want the feeling to dissipate. Because it was a good night. Generally speaking. What happened was that Jason, Ka+ie Szum, Kris+in Sanders and I ended up eating at our brand-new Chili's restaurant here in Bolingbrook, the hotbed of retail & fine eateries. It just seems weird, I guess. I don't hang around with those girls. But what really happened, how it started was when we were at Oak Brook and there was Stacie & Jesaida & Karen Krueger², because we sang for about a half an hour, then she had an appointment of some sort, we will never know. But the singing was secondary to good times & the Christmas spirit. It is a truly wonderful time of the year. We were shopping, well mostly just looking, in a fascinating little shop called Sharper Image for quite a bit, a quirky little business of $4000 rubber monsters and talking language translators and gumball machines and vibrating chairs. Katie apparently gave some 33-year-old guy named Al her phone number when he asked, so that was the big controversy of the evening, producing a ten-minute argument with the guy & Kristin about what was he doing talking to her in the first place. But then, of course, our little eight-member group had to part ways, and Stacie³ went home with her mom, who I have negative feelings about, just because she got lost on the way there and I knew where to go, and I didn't like the fact that she was going anyway. But I understand Stacie not wanting to drive on 355. It's just awkward being in the car with someone's mom, I guess. So anyway, Jason & I attempted to get to Chili's because hey, it was something to do afterward, and wasn't it funny that we were a perfect SATB⁴ quartet (Jason: "Suck this quartet")? And wasn't it an interesting quartet anyway? And plus, Katie & Kristin were really hungry. So the two of us got lost & had to call up Sid⁵ around Westchester, at some little gas station. So many highways, it just gets really confusing. But we're having a good time. That's the main point. But we finally get there, though. Now this, I just find fascinating, the four of us. It's like, who are we? It felt like some double date or something, kind of awkward, kind of enjoyable. Of course, I liked it, but when Katie started sliding down the seat and pushing her stomach up and down and giggling about it, what are you to do? It wasn't as if we were just friends because I don't consider them really to be friends, per se, but it wasn't anything else, either. It was just a random grouping. I think the fact that Katie's just so damn attractive throws a wrench into the system (I think that's the right idiom). She's just ... mmmm ... I don't know. Interpret that however you want (some people "mmm" when they're thinking and it sounds kind of like a delighted yawn, but the letters also have other lovely connotations). How else do I say it? Anyway, that was my evening. A thought just crossed my mind, which was that if I were to write a book or something, I would certainly include detail & personality & physical characteristics, which I don't always do here, such as the fact that Katie has brown hair & wishes she was 5'3". That is, of course, that she's shorter. Thus my attraction. But in this journal here, that's not my purpose. Maybe it would make for better reading, though. I like to think I have several good images, but I don't have to go so far as to describe Kristin as having a face too wide for her features, rosy apple cheeks, etc. It's not important. That should be the key: importance. Because maybe Katie's sparkling eyes and little-girl voice are important. -JMC 12:50 AM

1 I'd written my entry for Dec. 12, 1994, outside of my official journal and thus had to transcribe its contents into the official journal over the past couple of days.

2 My inept, goody-two-shoes choir instructor.

3 My best friend, from sophomore to senior year.

4 Soprano (Katie), alto (Kristin), tenor (Jason), bass (yours truly).

5 Jason's dad. We often spoke fondly of "Sid and Betty."

December 17, 1993

2004-12-17T01:13:00.000-08:00

...because apparently she was confused over when OUR monthaversary actually occurred.¹ I don't know; I didn't press her on it. But anyways, today is last day o' school before holiday vacation. I hasten to say "Christmas vacation" because of course, not everybody celebrates Christmas. It's sad, really, that they have to be subjected to it, especially if they're too shy to point out that they don't believe in it. Why must we assume that everyone gets presents on Dec 25 and sings Christmas carols (by that I mean those mentioning the baby Jesus, etc.)? I was reminded of this on two separate occasions, the first being Sra. Rosa's² non-stop "Christmas fiesta" this and "Feliz navidad" that. In our Christmas carol singing yesterday, I would have gladly sung CASCABELES, but O PUEBLECITO DE BELÉN or LA NOCHE DE PAZ, I think is blurring the lines of church and state. Apparently, a Mississippi principal was fired last week for reading a prayer over the PA (while I disagree w/ the extent of the punishment, I do believe it shouldn't have occurred.) Mike Royko also spoke of a similar situation in the Tribune on Wednesday. I'm thinking, though, how much religion impacts us. For example, I was ushering for the Marilyn Bie1by-directed A Christmas Carol (which does not count as a religious inclusion because to try out for the play or view it is not forced upon someone), when Becky R0senthal comes up to pay for her ticket and remarks, "Hey, have you seen the Seinfeld book? It's so good. I got it for Hanukkah." I had never thought twice that she would be Jewish. But it makes sense, though. Rosenthal, Seinfeld ... So now I can't see her without thinking "Jewish." I don't know what it is about the Jewish faith that does that. I don't think *METHODIST* when I see Katy B1anchard or *LUTHERAN* when I talk to Jay J0rdan. Oh well... -JMC 10:55 am

1 This ellipsis carries over from the previous day's entry, which was abandoned mid-sentence: [Dec. 16, 1993: Today, friends, is Ryan & Shanna's monthaversary; that's what Ryan told me today, and I suppose my Nov 17 entry confirms that. Stacie was upset...]

2 My daffy, inept Spanish teacher.

December 14, 1992

2004-12-14T10:24:00.000-08:00

That's real chinsy, don't U think? It looks like some dead tree. Of course I'm talking about my decorations.¹ We got one of those fake trees this year which really got me upset cuz it's like a tradition, but what got me even more mad was that we put it in a different spot, which was even more untraditional. Well, anyways, I finally started on my shopping yesterday and I bought my brother the BOBBY BROWN CD cuz he'd kill me if I didn't -- and, plus, I got my cousins' friend the exact same CD at half-price. What the hell? It wasn't half-price. It was only 2 dollars off. Damn, it's like last year when I inadvertantly referred to Mrs Gawlik as Ms Brubeck. Well, anyways, I have to give him a present (his name is Luis) cuz he's staying w/the family for a few months instead of his hometown of Guatemala City, Guatemala, and I figured this was as good as any. If it wasn't on sale, I'd probably get MTV Party to Go Vol. 2 or Boomerang cuz I could dub it. Speaking of which, Steve still hasn't given me his tape 2 dub even though he's been telling me for months that he would. We had a volleyball tournament in Godparents² last nite where we ended up at an even .500 record of 2-2. We won the first game against Dudkowski, which featured an old bag that Steve + I called the "OH SHIT" lady becuz whenever the ball came near her, she'd always miss it and mutter "OH SHIT" -- What a bitch! Anyway's we won, 15-10 even though we clearly could've scored more. The second game we lost to Monica Koenig's team -- I don't remember the score -- but we lost 15-5. The third game was the oddest of all becuz we were down 5-3 when someone on the other team tipped it over the net where Steve was. Steve complained that the basketball hoop was in the way and so he was arguing with the ref. Meanwhile, the other team was serving, and Steve realized that it was coming right at him so he raced in and hit it. Well, that was good, but he hit it over this really tall wall onto a platform that no one could reach. Eventually, Jim O'Brien ended up scaling the wall of a back room to get to it, but everyone was blaming Steve for it. So, then, after the game, which we lost, Steve was coming down real hard on himself. However, I was scorekeeper in another rare game taking place at that time, which I will have 2 discuss later due to the unusual circumstance that the bell will ring soon.

[Marginalia: 1. I Will Always Love You - Whitney Houston 2. If I Ever Fall in Love - Shai 3. Rump Shaker - Wreckx-N-Effect 4. In the Still of the Nite - Boyz II Men 5. I'd Die Without You - P.M. Dawn]³

1 I've drawn the date in the corner of the page and attempted to dangle ornaments from the numbers.

2 A Catholic youth group I belonged to. Each kid was assigned to an area couple (mine was the Biddles), who led a group of eight or so in religious discussions every Sunday night.

3 These weren't my favorite songs but the top five songs in the country that week. Around this time, I was obsessed with the Billboard charts.

2004-12-14T08:01:00.000-08:00

Prefatory Notes:

1. This blog will only contain journal entries I made between the ages of 13 and 18, from 8th grade (1992) to sophomore year of college (1997).

2. Entries will be out of yearly chronological order, but I will attempt to post on the same day and month as the original entry.

3. "Shouting the poetic truths of high school journal keepers" is a line in Sonic Youth's "Skip Tracer," a song I loved when I was 16.

4. Though I had an inkling to do a blog like this for a while, it was recently inspired by Sarah's similar project.