Like A Celebrity in The Stuff That's Not Interesting But Is The Most Interesting Stuff I'll Write

The time has come for me to start trying to figure out what I'm going to do when I finish school in March. Ideally, I would like to go back to France, but I'm not sure that that's very practical at this point. I do know that I want to get away from California as soon as possible. California is so needlessly expensive. I just very much dislike California right now.

Someone asked me to where I would move, whether that be some place I've lived previously or somewhere new. I thought about it and I couldn't move back to where my parents live. Sacramento is like a black hole that sucks time out from underneath me. When I'm there I become like a dead battery. Chicago is not the place for me; I learned my lesson the last time. As for New Orleans, as much as I'd like to move back, New Orleans was a time in my life reserved for my youth. It was wonderful and magical, but it is not my future.

I actually have been looking at Texas. I think I'd like Texas. I'm not psychotically into politics, I would like weather that is similar to mine but at least changes from time to time, and I like the pace of the South. It's so much slower than it is here. I have long since felt that going back to school was a waste of my time, and it's being compounded by the fact that I don't really believe staying in California was a good choice, either. I just really couldn't bring myself to leave my little brothers at that time.

As much as I don't believe those were good choices, I wouldn't necessarily call them regrets. They are choices I made with the knowledge that I had at the time. Would it only have been possible for me to know the future, I would have made different choices. But who knows of those choices would have yielded happier results? Perhaps this time of my life was meant for a kind of listless misery. I don't really let it sour too much, but I do spend far too much time in my life wallowing.

Last week, David and Michael invited me to their house to celebrate the tenth anniversary of Mean Girls. It was really fun because it was their group of close friends and myself. I felt very honoured to be included in the party. I was a little surprised.

I'm always surprised when someone likes me. I think it's because my mother conditioned into my head when I was younger that I was an asshole and no one liked me... plus, people weren't nice to me so it was easy to believe.

Today, I'm going with my friend Juan to see a band play. The band happens to be some friends of mine and Juan is president of the GSA at Cal Poly. I don't really know how we bonded, he's a big lumbering guy who is really nice and pretty patient. So basically my opposite. I haven't seen him since November, when the rest of the club chased me out for being too revolting to the rest of the population.

I suppose I have a kind of social paranoia because everywhere I went from the time I started preschool, people would hurl insults at me and talk about me. It continued throughout school, I saw instances of it happening when I worked in jobs, and I've seen it happen since I went back to school. I wonder if everyone has this sense. It's like being in the panopticon. There comes a point where I just accepted that everyone will form an opinion about me and that opinion will not be good, true or my problem.

But sometimes it gets exhausting. I'd like to be anonymous for one day.