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current mood: The current mood of lostintranslation at www.imood.com

The end of something.

February 24, 2003 - 12:47 PM

    The play is over. I am free once more! What will I do on my first day of freedom? Oh, right. I�ll immediately start back at work. I sure do know how to live. (To be fair, this was not my idea. I simply didn�t specifically request the day off, so they�re making me work.) It�s a little depressing, but it probably wouldn�t be wise to call in sick.

    I have not written in a while, so I have a lot to say. I�ll try to leave out the less interesting things. This is not to say that everything will be interesting. Let�s just say that on an interest scale, I usually peak at about a 7. This entry will not be below a 3. How�s that? Does that make sense? No? Okay. Moving right along�

    On Friday, I actually woke up and went to my 9:00 class. Afterwards, I had to do some Statistics homework for my 11:00 class. During the hour between classes, I began feeling very anxious and nervous. I didn�t know why. By the time that Statistics class was over, I felt like I was having a panic attack. I kept having strange thoughts about my heart tightening. I had another class at 1:00, but I felt the need to get out of there. I left, got some lunch, and watched TV for a while. I still felt uneasy, but I didn�t know what had triggered my panicked flee from school. Then my mom called. My grandma was in the hospital. They had called the ambulance around 10:30, which is about the time my anxiety began. I told my mom about the panic attack, and she blamed it on caffeine. I was starting to wonder whether I had had some sort of psychic experience. I told my dad, and this was his theory too. My grandma does not usually believe in that sort of thing, but when my mom told her she said, �That�s probably it.� The next day, doctors at another hospital found out that my grandma had suffered a heart attack. It was very strange because I remembered all the weird thoughts I�d had about my heart during the panic attack.

    On a side note, I don�t suffer from anxiety. It�s common in my family, but I�m not prone to panic attacks. This was a bizarre occurrence.

    Meanwhile, I had to do a show every night. I had to completely shift moods, which I was surprisingly pretty good at. Friday night was the big party at one of the director�s houses, and I managed to stay there for quite a while. I drove Elle there and discovered that she loves the movie Romy and Michele�s High School Reunion, which endeared her to me even more. When we actually arrived at the party, Elle spent most of the time getting drunk and sneaking off with Nick, who was in the play with us. There�s a lot of weird chemistry between them, but Elle already has a perfectly nice boyfriend. I felt a little bad for him right then. I sat at a table, sipping Pepsi. People acted like I was drinking rat poison. I finally allowed Jack to mix me a drink, which was fruity and pale green. After that, I had another Pepsi, which caused more concern. People don�t understand that I like being sober, especially since I have to drive home. I�m only nineteen, so there�s a zero tolerance law. Around 2:00, I decided that it was time to go home. I went around saying my goodbyes (Elle and Nick were mysteriously absent) and went home with only some minor protest from others.

    �I�ll miss you,� Cynthia told me, sucking on a Popsicle soaked in vodka.

    �No you won�t,� I said honestly.

    �I will,� she insisted, but she wouldn�t. Why would she?

    Then Simon started pressing himself all over me, while I calmly told him I�d see him tomorrow. Thinking back on it, I was a little disturbed at how unaffected I was. He�s a pretty good-looking kid. Many girls have a crush on him, but I only indulged him for a moment before walking away.

    Saturday: I slept. When I got out of bed, I stumbled around for a while before deciding to watch Manhattan, a Woody Allen movie that I rented last weekend. It was not long after that my mom came home with the news that my grandma had a heart attack. I became depressed all over again, but I still had a show to do that night. A pseudo-critic from another school was coming to review us. After the show, we listened to what he had to say about it. It�s kind of nerve-wracking, but he totally floored me with his praise. �I just wanted to hug you,� he told me. �You were terrific.� It felt good, but I paid for it later. He didn�t hand out praise to everyone, and he flat out ignored a few (including Elle). This resulted in me getting the cold shoulder from those who felt jilted (including Elle). I went home and watched the movie Heathers.

    Yesterday was the final performance, and everyone was nice again. Or at least they were faking it well. The director told me that I did especially well, and I was thrilled. While everyone took down the set, Elle and I were in charge of cleaning the dressing room. Suddenly we were back in �best friends circa eighth grade� mode complete with people giving us funny looks as we giggled hysterically at things that only we seemed to think were funny.

    So now the set is gone, the play is over, and life can get back to normal. I might even miss it.

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