You know its true what they say about Mondays...They really do suck.

I know that it is a bad attitude to have, but I really dislike when my entire weekends are taken up by writing a stupid paper on some boring love story like "Sense and Sensibility" and then I have to go right back to school. Arrrgh! (Side note: I often don't like using onomatopoeia or exclaimations, but I just feel so upset!). The one bright spot is that Emma and I are still hanging out together despite Beth's efforts to turn her against me. Bitch! (Again...read above) I am so upset at Beth and can't believe how much she has changed since our Red Hill school days a couple years ago. We were at one time best friends and now that has completely changed. Tom, my other old friend from Red Hill has also turned on me, although that happened quite awhile ago. He is even playing football and is dating a cheerleader named Becky Feist. A cheerleader! He and Beth are now friends, which is unbelievable because Beth and I used to mock cheerleaders and 'deride' them for how fake they are. Deride is the word of the week, but more on that later.

One good thing to come from these 'shocking' turn of events is that I feel like writing again. Maybe its my new found fondness for Emma Osterman, but I feel more inspired than I have in quite some time. My therapist, Mr. Todd, has traced my previous lack of inspiration back to about one and a half years ago when my Grandfather, Jem Big Sky the first, passed away. He says that perhaps I wrote "as a means of connecting with him and his past" and that when he died I lost that connection. I think that he may be right because every time I have tried to write since, I start to feel loss and emptiness. He has helped me to express these feelings and as a result has separated my desire to write from those painful memories. Now, I focus on the strength I get from expressing myself and from creating thoughts, both fictional and non-fictional, that help me to "create my story", as Mr. Todd puts it.

Well, I wish I had more to write this week, other than to say that life is funny and people are funnier. I have trouble accepting change sometimes (like with my former friendships), but am glad to accept the positive change in the addition of Emma in my life. It scares me because I feel more and more that she is the reason I can get myself out of bed in the morning. Dad says that maybe that isn't so healthy, but almost always when you like someone, that for the first several days of that 'fresh' relationship, you can't think of much else but seeing that person again. He also said that "one must be careful (meaning me), not to be the only one in the relationship who feels that way". Of course it was natural for me to respond as if this were a question about Emma's feelings for me, in which I stated that I was almost positive that she feels the same way and that she has been about as lost as me at this 'monstrosity' of a school called Ronald Reagan High School since she came here. Also, we both feel like we have found each other for a reason. "What exactly is the reason?", he asked politely. I responded with "to help each other through the day". Apparently, that wasn't good enough for Jem Big Sky II and he said "what else you got?" I couldn't say anything at that point, but after thinking about it for awhile, I have realized that I just like talking to her about a lot of different things. She tells me stories about Arcata and I tell her stories about Red Hill. We talk about why we liked our schools so much better than RRHS and in what ways. We are both reminded by our Mothers that "the grass is always greener on the other side", but after real careful consideration, it isn't really that in our case. We both felt like learning was more fun and active at our other schools and less out of a book. We took more trips and learned 'hands on' as they say. I never felt dreadful about the idea of going to school, unless maybe if I had a Math test, although often Math problems were involved in projects like 'starting a business' or 'planning a trip'. I guess I could go on, but I think my readers get the picture.

Both my parents and Emma's mother have encouraged us (or maybe challenged us) to write letters to the school board and perhaps our principal with these thoughts about how best we learn in the hopes that maybe things will change. Both Emma and I think that it couldn't hurt, but sometimes it does give us something to "complain" about as Dad says and maybe we need that "bond of oppression" to make us feel isolated from everyone else. I guess he has a point, but I think we are not alone in how we feel about our current school and that we maybe shouldn't isolate ourselves like we have. Damnit! I hate it when my Dad is right. He is right often and that is why I come to him for advice I suppose.

Perhaps Emma and I could start a club at school that takes action against boring school work. Emma said that it could be called "More than the facts" club. I asked why and she said that maybe learning should be about more than just facts in a book and should be about "going places". I said "and doing real things". "Yes!" she said excitedly, and we could petition the school to spend more money on field trips and encourage the teachers to push for it too. We spent the entire lunch period writing down ideas and nearly forgot to eat our lunches. I think that we will have to start recruiting members or start a petition soon in order to get attention to the cause. "I think there may be enough students who aren't brainwashed completely" Emma said. "Yeah and perhaps we could convince them to put their cellphones down long enough to sign a petition", I replied. We both laughed and then had a nervous few moments looking at one another that made me feel a little queasy inside.

I think I am beginning to like that feeling.

Its 2-for-1 with word or words of the week. Deride means "express contempt for; ridicule" and the meaning of monstrosity is "something, esp. a building, that is very large and is considered unsightly" or "something that is outrageously or offensively wrong". I think both definitions of monstrosity work fine in this case.

Well, a couple of months have passed once again since I have written. For some reason, I have not had the desire to write about myself or my family in quite some time. Maybe its because I have to write all the time at school and a lot of time about things that don't interest me. I also spend a lot of time trying to remember figures like dates about historical events that have some interest to me, but I cannot seem to remember when exactly they happened because numbers don't seem to stick in my head for some reason. I definitely don't like writing book reports on books by people like Shakespeare or Jane Austen. I guess I would rather write about current events or fictional stories about precoscious cats or dogs. Unfortunately, I will not be able to take Creative Writing until next year and only if it does not fill up before I can sign up.

So, I keep a writing journal by my bed that I write in once in awhile, but not often at once to transfer to my blog. I do have a story that I feel needs to be written about and that is why I am finally entering a long, overdue posting. It does involve my friend, Beth, and the Sweethearts Ball that happened two days ago.
I asked Beth to go to the dance a couple of weeks ago and she said 'yes' and then a junior named Dylan asked her a few days later and for some reason she said 'yes' to him also. I think she was surprised by his request and somehow forgot about me asking her. I don't know exactly why she did it, but I think she has secretly liked him for awhile. Well, anyhow it really hurt when she finally remembered that she agreed to go with me and then apologized. She seemed to be really embarrassed by it, but I decided to forgive her and I think she sensed that I hadn't really.
I wasn't going to go at all mow even though I had bought tickets, but I heard my Grandpa's voice tell me to "get back on the horse, son". So, I decided to go by myself. I felt so alone and I thought that my time at Ronald Reagan High School had sunk to a new low. The only person I felt close to and could trust was Beth and now I felt so 'isolated' and depressed. 'Isolation' then has become my word of the, well, month. Just when I was about to call my dad from the payphone, a girl named Emma came up to me and started talking to me with just a little hint of hesitation; almost as if she was being encouraged by a distant voice like I was. She said "Hi. I'm Emma". "I'm Jem", I replied. At first, I sounded a bit confused and maybe as though someone like her was only coming up to me because of pity. I was also allowing some of my anger of the evening come through and I think Emma sensed this and said "Are you ok?" I said, with some hint of annoyance and sarcasm, "yes, I am great. How are you?" She stopped her answer and seemed ready to bolt at any moment, but the funniest thing happened; she didn't. She got this funny look on her face and as though she was sizing me up, processing what I had said, and thinking of her reply all at once. I don't know if I can remember feeling that uncomfortable, yet somehow free to be more than just a 'nice guy' for once. All of the uncomfortableness in the silence melted away when she finally said "Do you want to go for a walk Jem?" I was speechless. "Um...yeah, sure. I would like to do that"...not exactly a great line from a romance novel, but it made her smile.
So, Even though my first reaction to Emma was filled with distrust, self-pity, and a little bit of shame, she somehow saw through that. It was as if she knew exactly how I was feeling and exactly what had happened to me this week. Perhaps, even though we don't share any classes together and have never met, she somehow knew who I was. Well, I didn't ask her if she knew Beth or what our relationship is like, but it seemed like for an instant as we were leaving the multi-purpose space (MPS) that she shot a nasty look at someone. I glanced only once in her direction as we were headingout and tried not to look at anything else but the floor. I had decided that I didn't want to even know if she was somehow playinga joke on me or perhaps was sent by someone else to "tease the lonely kid" or "run salt in the loser's wounds". That was what was running through my mind as Emma and I departed the MPS and started heading toward the Arts wing. We walked almost the whole way down the corridor while she told me about how she moved here from Northern California at the beginning of the semester and how small the school was that she went to and how much she misses it. She also said that her only friend, Jordan, talked her into coming to the dance and how much she dislikes dances, but thought she could meet people, but that everyone seemed to know each other already and that she couldn't get "a word in edgewise" (not sure exactly the meaning there) and how she was really wishing she were back at her old town (Arcata) where right now she would be riding her bike to the beach and wishing she wasn't so alone, when she looked over and saw me. She said "you looked like the only person here more miserable than me", so she decided to meet me even though she was nervous. We stopped at a glass case at the very end of the hall by the art room and she pointed toward a painting of a beautiful, misty beach scene, but didn't say anything about it. I looked and saw her name on a small piece of paper next to it: "Emma Lynn Osterman" and it was simply entitled "Home". I looked at her and said "I like it, it rhymes. Um, your name, I mean". once I stopped studdering a little more about her name, I finally spit out "Your home is really nice". She smiled and then told me about how she drew it from a photograph that she took the day before she left. "Why did you come here?", I asked. She explained that her Step-dad's Dad was really sick and the family decided to move to take care of him. She said that also her real or biological Dad has had trouble finding work and thought a change would be good, so her moved her also with his girlfriend. "What does your Dad do?", I said. "He used to be in construction, but lately he has been making sculptures and a lot of times he has meetings with people about saving trees". This made me perk up even more and I told her that my Dad is trying to save our local rivers and lakes from being bought and drained by the "fat cats". "Well, our Dad's should meet", Emma said and I agreed.
We just walked around the school talking until Principal Preston told us to go back to the dance. I asked her if she wanted to dance and she said "I would love to sometime", just as she noticed a white pickup truck pull up in front of the circle. She gave me one of the best hugs I can ever remember receiving and off she went. She was almost out of sight when she ran back from the truck, which made my heart race even more, and said "Do you need a ride?" "My Dad will be here soon" I said and she ran off again and disappeared into the truck which drove off. I didn't even notice that someone was calling my name from the entry to the MPS. It could have been the music or the thumping of my heart, but the words "Hey Big Sky!" finally broke through. "Hi Beth", I said calmly, "Are you having a fun evening?" "Where have you been all night? I have been looking for you", Beth said. "Oh...I have been seeing the school in a whole different light, Beth", I answered.
"Isolation" means: "far away from other places, buildings, or people; remote" or "having minimal contact or little in common with others". An example of its usage is "The mysterious girl delightfully interrupted my utter isolation".



Isolated Mountain Goat painting by "Nick's Pocket Paintings" myspace site.