Unrequited Love and Chance

Okay, today is the first day of this week, the important part being that Friday is looming. . .Now that I've reminded myself of that, I must continue on to more important things:
The French verbal EOC is on Wednesday, the written multiple choice part occupying two days of next week. Next, the band concert is a week from tomorrow, and my snare part is still hit-and-miss. I'm hoping that we'll practice that piece tomorrow in class. We are also going to be turning in our trip journals tomorrow, which isn't very stressful for me, because I admit that I kept up with it pretty nicely during the trip like a good little nerd child; however, others, as I heard today, hadn't even made it past the Antietam Battlefield questions, and so must be dying of overworkage as I type. Also, Alexis is being forced to do the whole thing ASAP (I hate when people say ASAP), even though she didn't go on the trip, which I personally think is a bit unfair and a lot to expect, though it might not be my place to say that, so I'll shut up.

It was very beautiful outside today; I woke up as usual at 5:50, took the dogs outside, and smelled the cool scent of rain, heavy in the air; it has just started to sprinkle now. Also, I did dream last night, but I could not remember it entirely, so I shan't communicate about it on here.

I was in a very happy skippy mood for most of the day; my mood dropped for some inexplicable reason over lunch, during which Shannon, Patrick, and I sang Bohemian Rhapsody and got strange looks from Kevin. Also of importance, Sylvia asked Mathew out, and he said yes, which is cool because they make a pretty cute couple in my opinion. Then, it was amazing, because on the way back from lunch, we saw the substitute, Mr. Anderson (aka, Harry Potter, or Buddy Holly) and he was wearing one of his awesome sweaters. Shannon, Lizbit, and I flipped out and were like, "Look! Look! It's Harry Potter!" so I think we scared him a little. As he passed us, Shannon sort of shouted at him: "Hey, hey Mr. Anderson!" he started to walk a bit faster, but then she shouted it again and he turned back quickly and gave a frightened little wave before scurrying off in the direction of the lunch room. We all dissolved into laughter, particularly at Shannon's reaction, but then Mr. Samora shushed us.

Today, after school, I did the dishes and what-not and decided to take a long walk since it was only about 4:10 and pretty outside. I put Juliet on the leash and walked up Glade Street, past the gazebo park, down Fourth Street, took a left on Cherry Street, and sort of circled around that block, getting back onto Fourth Street via Trade Street, where all the Friday night Summer Concerts are (I wonder when those start?). I'm pretty sure I saw two people that I know while walking: one was Elizabeth Eppley's mom, and this one I'm certain about because she beeped and conversed with me from her car; and the second was Matt (I think, though he did not converse with me from his car), who used to work with my mom back when she was at Cat's Corner. It was a sad sight to see, passing by the dark windows of Cat's Corner, with no one on the patio straightening the tables for closing.

Once my dad got home, we took both dogs for a walk and then went to this Japanese Steakhouse place on Stratford Road with Heather; it was delicious, as usual, and I ate way too much, as usual, though it's hard not to at those places, considering that you get a ton of food even if you order off of the children's menu, as I always do. I wonder when I'll be too old to order from there, when I reach the age when they flat-out deny any attempt of mine to try. It will be a very sad day.

Then, after dinner, my dad and I had a very interesting conversation while Heather was in the bathroom and the neighboring people at our table were discussing movies. Somehow, the subject of love came up, and he said something like, "Love can only be love when it's mutual." and then I replied with something like, "Well, what about unrequited love?" to which he responded that he believed unrequited love to be a myth, and that someone who believes themselves to unrequitedly love someone takes themselves too seriously or something like that. Which is interesting, because I'd never heard anyone say something like that about love before; hearing it from that point of view would make a person who is unrequitedly in love probably feel very mopey, or very self-absorbed, because of the whole idea of making the act more dramatic for the self-sympathetic part of it. However, it was just a new opinion, so I thought I'd put it up here for people (and myself) to ponder. (secret: I personally believe in unrequited love, but anyone else would probably say that I'm too young to know what I'm talking about!) (secret #2: I don't believe in love at first sight.)

Another important thing that I would like for you, my reader, to ponder, is the role of chance in one's life. I'm currently reading this book called The Unbearable Lightness of Being, and it's a novel about a relationship between these two unstable people, and the chapter I'm reading now discusses the amount of chance required for their meeting. The man, who seems to think rather negatively, counts and realizes that, because of 6 chance happenings, he was able to meet his wife; he believes that this proves that things could just as well have happened otherwise, that she could have fallen in love with someone else and that because of this, the fact that he was chosen has no meaning, the relationship was not necessarily "meant to be." But the interesting thing is the author's ability to examine chance from the other point of view as well, that the more chance happenings that it took to create the meeting made it more "fateful," so to speak, that the role of coincidences in our lives might urge us in the right direction and even, coincidental as they are, occur in a sort of pattern, adding observable beauty to our lives.

So, the reason that this is important is because yesterday, while I was walking through the park with Hope, she happened to have to go to the bathroom badly, and so we took a detour beneath the bridge (Glade Street) that separates Hanes Park from Brunson Elementary; as we passed through the fence that leads to the legendary snack-and-yack playground (where I used to frolick in the good old days of third grade with old friends, Elizabeth and Sofia), I looked over and realized something was out of place: the tire, which had been half-buried in the ground back in my day, and apparently up until recently, had been unearthed, and was leaning against the fence that borders the playground. Now, this wouldn't bother me if that tire didn't have such significance! Back in the aforementioned good old days, my friends and I would perch on that tire and observe the entire playground from it, and it became "our" tire, since no one else used it anyway. So the point is, I saw it was unearthed yesterday, and I told them both (Elizabeth and Sofia) the news today in French class, and they were equally as aghast as I. Then, again with a chance happening, I encountered Elizabeth's mother on my walk, and having just read this chapter on chance and its role in our lives, I decided to phone Elizabeth once I got back to the house, considering we haven't hung out in about a year.

So, in conclusion, ponder these things. . .and I am interested to see your views as well; comment me or email me your thoughts on unrequited love and chance (it'll be anonymous if you so choose)