Notes on Friends (which will probably deviate off somewhere else) - Post #208

My friends are better than yours. Example one, I get this scrawled in chalk on my front steps,

"Iona, come hang out. -Danica"

Doesn't that just say it all?

I've been doing a lot of thinking lately, and I think I've realized that my friends make me happy because they give me hope. Rachel gives me hope for forgiveness and understanding, Danica gives me hope for staying strong and being reckless, Dan gives me hope for remembering the past and communication, and Tom gives me hope that maybe I'm not a total loser after all. And that's not even close to everybody. That's just some junk off the top of my head.

Happiness is a fickle thing, I feel like a yo-yo bouncing between happy and sad, hyper and exhausted. There is no middle ground. Half of me says I'm crazy, half of my says welcome to high school.

There's another part snorting, "Ha, welcome to life."

When I was a kid I used to have this thing for rocks. I would bring home loads from the beach, to the complete dismay of my parents. There were the typical pretty white ones, shiny ones, ones with funny patterns. But there were always several that looked completely dull and ordinary.

Those were the ones I liked the most. They were ones that, when I picked them up, seemed to fit into my hand like a puzzle piece, right into the curve of the palm of my hand.

I think friends are like that. They just...fit. They feel right. Like they should be there.

There's friends and there's friends. My head is exploding right now, trying to figure out how to do this. Like I've been a friend and a sister and a daughter for so long that I know how to be one. I'm like an expert in the role. There's a way to be and a way to act, and it's good. But this is so new...and totally unexpected. No one was surprised but me.

And I like it. It's probably the best rock I've ever found. Like a diamond, in a pile of quartz. And it fits in my hand perfectly. But sometimes I find myself looking down at it with the sinking feeling that someone's going to realize I found it, decide it's too nice for such an accident to happen like me picking it up, and it'll be gone before I even get to look at it properly.

Hmm, almost as bad as the toy store metaphor, no?

I've been cleaning all afternoon, blaring my music, and it's making me feel restless. Four days, 22 hours, 30 minutes until the summer season of swim team starts and I can get rid of all this energy. I can't wait.

Things to look forward to...
Friday ~ Seussical with Tom & whoever else goes, and Andy's going to sign the book he leant me and I lost because I already replaced it for him
Saturday ~ Americares in the morning, then Dan's party, then Burn's night with the church crew which means SCOTTISH DANCING
Sunday ~ sleeping over at the church from Saturday
Monday ~ swim practice starts
Tuesday ~ I feel dead but totally happy, more swim practice
Wednesday ~ practice, then leave early for the walkathon with the Hershey Park kids
Friday ~ PA invitational with the robodorks
Saturday ~ invitational continued

So yeah. It's going to be wicked awesome unless something goes wrong. -crossed fingers- And all that jazz.

Peace, my homeslices.

--Iona