Keep in touch? What bullshit. Mlle. Smith hasn’t called me once save for the one occasion regarding the Hurricane Harbor trip. We talked for less than a minute because our call got dropped. I called her back multiple time during various time that evening in various location, but once I got home, she’s Facebook messaged me and said, “Sorry. I was at [M. Smith]’s.” And that’s the end of that.
Before, when we were incredibly bored during the school year, I thought it was because I was boring; but when I hang out with Mlle. Jang or Mlle. Johnston, we have tons of fun. So I suspected her of being the killjoy, but I remembered how she has fun with her other friends too. Maybe it’s just the two of us that aren’t compatible.
When Mlle. Velasco and Mlle. Yasakova left, Mlle. Smith and I clung onto each other for dear life. I think we both forced ourselves to enjoy the other’s company and we both were aware of it. I think that’s what happened. We forced ourselves because we ought to stay together to preserve the memories of our little group. But I’m glad that we did because if we didn’t, I’d have to sleep in my car every lunch, something I occasionally did when I felt tired or anti-social.
So, I got home and was talking to M. Foghi on Skype when my mother sat next to me and went on and on about how I ought to live my life: no parties, no dating, no friends. She said she wanted me to be like a horse with the side blinds because it wouldn’t get distracted by the things around it so it’d go down the only path that it saw and would get to the finish line faster. What’s the finish line? Death. I don’t want to live my life like that. A life devoid of emotions, other people, joy, and art truly is a pitiful existence; it’s worse than being dead.
But, the whole time while she lectured, I was fuming inside. Monsieur Foghi was still on camera, witnessing my facial expressions, but I had it muted. I signed out of Skype after awhile to avoid M. Foghi further witnessing and my mother noticing that I was talking to a boy. She made a correlation between low grades and relationship; there are no such correlations. It all depends on the person in question. How ridiculous.
But I was pissed. I signed on Skype again when she left and M. Foghi asked if she was off my ass. Monsieur Dow was online so I was like, “Oh my God, I’m incredibly pissed. Can I tell you about it?” He was like, “Sure. I’m all ears.” So I told him everything.
Oh my God, I miss video chatting with him so much. He’s such a great listener and his responses are appropriate. He tells me to take emotions out of the equation. I don’t know if I can do that, but that is very good advice. At one point, he says he misses talking to me too and that he wants to keep track of me. It’s cute.
After I’m done talking about my mother, my mood goes from a -8.5 to a +7 on the happiness scale. I’m happy, so I tell him about M. Patterson. He agrees that it’s harmless fun but it’s not going anywhere. He says I should flirt with someone whom I’m interested in real life. But, at one point, he says that whatever I do, “no boobies, no flashing, nothing that he can take pictures of.”
Um…why can’t you live near me so I can have a proper best guy friend?
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