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2001-11-03 04:18:11 (UTC)

If you laugh...

I've always been too self-critical. I don't really know
why, but I'm a little too aware of how I'm behaving in
certain situations. I have this annoying little conscience
that'll whisper in my ear: "no matter how you try and
convolute this, you're always going to know that you lied
here." This extends to when I do embarrassing things, I
tend to bash myself over the head with them for the next
couple years. I still remember one time in 7th grade, we
were learning about STDs in science class, and Mr. Mixon
was telling us about genital warts. I had somehow managed
to miss the whole concept that genital warts are *gasp* on
your genitals... and when I was younger I used to have a
wart on my elbow (hence, the hideously ugly scar on my
right elbow)... so as I was walking out the door with this
girl Carla, I turn to her and say "I used to have those..."
or something remarkably stupid like that. Undoubtedly,
Carla has completely forgotten about this incidence by now,
but every once in a while, I am reminded of this and I
laugh at my own stupidity. When I do this, I then go on to
chide myself for being so overly sensitive about such a
stupid little thing... and I get caught in this vicious
cycle where I'm alternately remembering things that make me
feel really stupid and trying to forget them by scolding
myself for remembering the stupid little things.

Another facet of this is my tendency to be sitting with my
friends and to just mentally ridicule my generation to
myself. I sit at lunch and listen to people talk and think
to myself "oh my God, listen to what we're obsessing
about." We spend our lives worrying about what we're going
to wear to school tomorrow, or how we'll do our hair, or
whether we got invited to that party next weekend. We worry
about whether or not we have a boyfriend at this very
minute, not realizing that we have probably at least
another 60 years to find a true love. We waste our lives
trying too hard to grow up fast, to fit in, to be exactly
like everyone else. We crush every semblence of
individuality into our high-heeled shoes and tight little
pants and try desperately to fit into society's definition
of the perfect teenager. And as much as I hate to admit it,
I do exactly the same thing. I wear "trendy" clothes, I
worry about how my hair looks, how my body looks if I wear
a swim suit. I spend my life stressing about how I don't
have a boyfriend, how I still have braces, how well I did
on that one last test, because it's going to make or break
my dream of attending Brown and becoming a doctor.

Kids at my school drink a lot. Arguably 80% of the people
who attend my school have tried alcohol at least once. I
listen to my more "popular" friends talk about the party
they went to last weekend where they got really trashed. My
friend Jess tells me about her friend Mike who, at the ripe
old age of 16, is already a total drug addict. A girl I
talk to online a lot, Farah, tells me about Charlie's
latest escapades with drugs for ADD (which he does not
have) which will probably end up burning holes into his
brain. And all I feel is an intense sadness for my
generation. I'm sad because I rebel against my peers by NOT
drinking, by NOT smoking and by NOT doing drugs. What kind
of world do we live in, if being a rebel involves refusing
to do things that harm your body? I have friends who
ridiculed me for not wanting to drink. Someone once told me
that I'd never fit in at Brown when I got there because I'm
straightedge. He said I'm too innocent. I hope so.

Sometimes I hate myself for thinking like this. I think
that if I could just stop thinking about stuff like this,
maybe I'd fit in better. Maybe I'd be happier. Maybe I
wouldn't spend a lot of my life wishing I were back at CTY
where the majority of the people who go there agree with at
least some of this...

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