I played for a funeral today at the Methodist Church. It was a lovely service. There was no coffin, just a plain stone urn and plenty of loved ones. Mrs. Leonard always gives a great message and today was no exception. She seems to be one of those people who have a hyper-sensitive emotional antennae, so to speak. Simply reading a letter from a missionary group can nearly bring her to tears, right there on the altar. She astounds me with her capabilities of kindness; her husband is in the hospital, her son is 21 and can't take care of himself, and she carries a church on her back. I read once that the "winner" is the one with the most people at their funeral; very bittersweet. Is there a single more descriptive word? I can remember the very first day of my own journey towards concrete self-awareness. I opened a notebook and started writing about a journey towards discovering who I am. Funny thing is, there is no destination. Self-knowledge is not a place, but a state of being. I suppose that's why I'm not all that surprised to see some of us still writing away here.

Things are never what they seem. I'm divided as to whether I want a snow day tomorrow; I think a nice delay would really be the best option. We can't use up too many days before we've even hit January, that would never do. Besides, I think I want to see everybody in school before the weekend. It's really not all that bad, this highschool experience. I'm starting to appreciate it, actually. You and your friends, all on the same intellectual journey, it can be fun if you have the right attitude. And the right teachers...one thing is for sure, the quality of instruction has stepped up quite a bit from last year. Mr. Battisti, Mr. Kaufman, and Mr. Nelson in particular are definitely the cream of the AHS crop. The transcendentalism story today was pretty incredible. It's a story like that that makes me believe it can be truely noble to simply love someone and make a family. Life lessons from Mr. Nelson? Pretty funny. Going to the gym was a lot of fun today. It had been a about a week since I had last worked out, so it was good to get back into it. Everybody else seems to enjoy it too. I'm glad about that; at least we're not slugs who don't even want to get healthier. It's good for the soul, if you ask me. Exercise, that is. There's something uplifting about pushing your body harder than it's used to being pushed. And you're guaranteed results. That might be the best part of it; as long as you have the will power, you can and will make progress. Working out might seem like a purely physical experience, but there's a hidden mental aspect that most people don't understand is there. No matter what happens with the weather, tomorrow will be tons of fun.

I awoke this morning in a malfunctioning body; I so hate it when that happens. It's true what they say about health, and the value of having it. Tendonitis is about the worst it has ever gotten for me, but even that is like a betrayal. To work so hard, and to have it all taken away by the very thing that you've worked so hard for...anyway, this is completely irrelevant. I stayed home sick for the first time in my entire high school career, and by 10 in the morning I was wishing I had gone to school. My day was basically spent singing at the top of my lungs to my Chicago soundtrack while practicing slidey-socks dance moves on the kitchen floor. After a missed day of school, it feels strange that tomorrow will be Thursday already; Christmas is coming so fast. Yesterday's entry proved to be prophetic. Just remember, when you're knocked out on the floor, there's nothing left to do but get up and go back to your corner. And despite all the levels of intruege we layer on our interactions with each other, in the end we're all just human beings desperate to connect with anyone from the pit of our solitude. Every man is an island, but that doesn't mean we have to be alone in the world. Your friends are always there for you, no matter what happens or how you feel. I truely believe that; we misunderstand each other as a rule, but if we could only know each others' true feelings we would realize that we're all basically the same. Just give it a chance sometime. Nobody is ever completely abandoned. One of my activites today was giving some serious thought and research to what I might be doing after I graduate from AHS. For a while I've thought that I wanted to follow my sister's path to France, but now I'm reconsidering. How amazing would South America be? I just wish Brazil was a Spanish-speaking country, because it's such an incredible place. Wherever I end up going, I just have to remember to take my time. That's a mistake young people make a lot, so I've heard. We think we have to do it all right now, seize the moment, cram it all in before we lose our dreams or big vision thing. Maybe it would be better to slow down a little; life is long, if you ask me. Make it full, but realize that there's going to be a lot of "next year"s, and the only thing you need to enjoy the entire ride is your imagination. This line of thinking has brought me back to Clara...we really need more randomness in our lives. How's that for a segue? You know you love it.

Does self-discipline require a little bit of self-loathing to get itself started? It seems it needs a lot, in my case. Not prolonged, dragged-out misery, just a strong spoonful of extreme disgust. You have to go down before you can go up, at least for me. Strange how I cycle through periods of extreme work-ethic and periods of sloth. The day is really much longer if most of it isn't whiled away on the computer...it's quite interesting how much can be accomplished if the mind is set to its tasks. "Tomorrow is the first day of the rest of your life." The Drama meeting today was full of drama. The club is probably going to see The Producers in NYC, which I approve of. The position of historian is still not filled, because some people need to get in their applications in on time. And Ashley, your covert operation blows. Word on the street is that there's some kind of Shakespeare contest going on at school. I really want to get involved in that, but I'm having some trouble working the meeting Mrs. Murray part of it into my Wa. I'd love to give that a try. It's really simple at the school level, but the contest progressively gets broader as you move up the levels. I wonder if I could win from AHS? I'm sure there would be some very stiff competition. Funny how this time of year is always so filled with teenage angst and emotion...damnable hormones. Everybody sees everybody else for the first time since last year in September, and things start happening right away, but it's always early Decemberish when they work up the gumption to do something about it. Like clockwork, really. Just when you think you're all nice and secure in your little clique of friends, somebody comes along and throws a bowling ball into your pond. And that's what this wonderful highschool experience is all about.

Dance class is great. The first two times I went I felt like an absolute klutz, but this time I felt like I was starting to pick something up. Even after the show is over, I want to continue the lessons. It's definitely a valuble skill to have, as artsy stuff goes. I had planned on making it to Mohawk Vally Chorus today, but I was just too tired. I managed to set my alarm to go off at 5:40 this morning, and I had taken a shower and gotten dressed before I realized it wasn't time to go to school yet. I made it through most of the day in good shape, but I was crashing by 1:30. The little after-school chorus rehersal was a daze... So Ben and I are going to work out Thursday. Ahh, I can remember back when I was a young'un, when I first visited 21st Century Gym with Dan and didn't know a seated row from an oblique...those were the days. I think I can point back to last winter as a pretty significant point in my life. That was when I was really starting to get to know my class outside of the SMI graduates, and moving in circles I had previously been outside, not to mention starting to work out on a consistent basis. It's good for the self-esteem. It's that feeling of starting something new and becoming pretty good at it. It would be so cool if I could become pretty good at dance; that should be a new goal of mine. I wish I had more specific instructions on how to practice it, because I can never really tell if I'm practicing wrong. All of us who are taking the class should have group practices, I'll bet we would make some real progress then. Funny how I'm eager to take up something new, but something I've been doing forever and have some experience at, such as piano, sometimes gets forgotten. It sure is easier to get excited about something new than something old. We should learn to hold onto the old things a little better. My "experiment" was sort of sabotaged by my faulty alarm today, but I intend to try again tomorrow. Something as simple as talking to an old friend that can change a day from ordinary to unusual.

What do you do with your life when your head is in the clouds? I'm not one to wonder if there's a purpose or a point to life; if you ask me, the point of living is whatever you want it to be. If your purpose is to hold a job, start a family, and raise kids, that's just as noble as divining universal truths or whatever highfalutin' BS floats your boat. Thanks, Mr. Battisti. I just find it interesting how we juxtaposition our musings on philosophy with "real life", as if they were separate. What ever happened to applying how we think to how we act? According to Emerson, "True happiness can only be found through the triumph of principles." If you ask me, no truer words were ever spoken. Sometimes action isn't as hard as deciding how to act, though. Maybe that's the real challenge: putting together all the slippery pieces of a jumbled-up worldview. I'm finding I don't know very much about Andrew Jackson. This damn paper is due Wednesday, and I've never actually read anything about him outside school. Wikipedia.com is a wonderful source, I'm starting to see why some people are in love with it. The coolest thing about it is anyone can write their own entry for anything they like; this, of course, is exploited. Don't you love human nature? Nothing is sacred, really. Today was very relaxed. Church, church, and more church. That last church was more of a recital, though. The Messiah is definitely a great piece of music, even if it drags occasionally. I wasn't in the best condition to enjoy it though, as I was on the brink of sleep for some of the solo sections. We got in late last night from Chicago, and I didn't exactly head straight for bed. Ben and I had another long talk, and I think we decided that it's possible to envy a friend and still have nothing against them. That's not really envy then, is it? More like admiration. And Ashley and I had another long talk, and we decided that people do indeed change. Not too much, though. I rest my case. ^^ So I'm going to run an experiment tomorrow. Keep some thoughts in mind, and see what I can use.

The gloves were mesmerizing. I'm not sure what it was about the white kid gloves Amos wore, but they grabbed you and wouldn't let go. He pulled the little white gloves out of his pocket, put them on, and weaved patterns that stunned in their elegance. Was that a form of miming? It was so cool...the sort of thing that looks simple, but is deceptively impossible to do for us mere mortals untrained in the esoteric arts of theater. The final number with the shimmer curtain was magic. It was only a roadshow of Chicago in Proctors, but it worked. Truth expressed, mission accomplished. That's the dazzling allure of the theater; it's the pursuit of truth. It feels like my life has become divided into two parts. One half is dedicated to my friends, the other half dedicated to my schoolwork, my obligations, and my family. Unfortunately, lately I've been more and more deserting the latter half in favor of the former. I wish I was a more logical person...then again, logic can have its drawbacks. No logical person would ever enter into a silly, temporary yet intimate relationship during high school that is almost inevitably doomed to failure, for example. Yet we do it, and we are the better for it, I think. It's getting to that time of year when you want someone to be close to, but there isn't always somebody there. Everything that we have ever observed is logical except ourselves, really. The universe is governed by two unalterable laws: Nothing can be created nor destroyed, and all systems tend towards disorder. It's thermodynamics, and everything obeys it. Everything except ourselves. The physical world is supremely logical, all events predictable to within a mathematically determinable probability. How did we, supremely illogical beings that we are, come from this universe of logic? Is our sentience proof of a power beyond this plane of existence, proof of God? I'm a hopeless romantic, I guess. The Messiah and other Christmas-type choral events are working out nicely for me; my voice was completely out of practice, but now with all the concerts I'm getting to sing at least a little. Hopefully by the time the spring show rolls around, I'll be back into the swing of things. Seeing Chicago made it that much clearer how mediocre we are at AHS Drama...it's not exactly a fair comparison though. They're pro, we're just kids. I wish I wasn't just a "kid", though. Not in the sense of wanting to be older, but wanting to have that level of expertise. Who wants to be "just" something? It would suck to be "just" something your entire life. Who's judging though? I don't know. We are usually our own harshest judge. Ben, Ashley, and I went to dinner at Ruby Teusday's before the show, and ran into some of our other friends who were also seeing the show. It's always so great to see Shane and Meghan and Marc and the rest of them, I wish I could get to know so many people better than I already do. We always end up getting sucked into our own little groups of friends, and shutting out the rest of the world; it's not really a bad thing, but we end up missing out on other people. That's the way it has to be, I guess. For some reason I'm finding that I write much more interesting things in this space than I did in my written journal. I'll probably just start printing these entries, and saving that in my papers. I don't know if they'll ever be good for anything, but I feel like I need to save my papers. Vain self-preservation, perhaps? It might come in handy someday.

It's a good thing we got started early. At about 5 AM this morning I woke up and checked how the weather was outside, and continued to wake up every 15 minutes to see if there was much snow. I felt a certain responsibility; after all, I had "called" the snow day, so to speak. It didn't look good at all until about 6:20, when suddenly a layer of fresh white stuff appeared. Lo and Behold, we had a snowday on our hands. Communiques were quickly exchanged, sledding times arrainged. This was a day that would not be wasted, gosh damnit. And a magnificent time was had by all... This was one of those days that we're going to look back on and say, "hey, lets do it again", but if we do try it again it probably won't be as good because it can never be as good as the first time. Those are good things to have in life; they're collectors' items, really. That being said, lets do it again real soon, OK? That's what makes sitcoms interesting, I guess. The characters never change, but the plotline is a little different every time. I think I was a little high for that snowball fight...exhilaration is a powerful substance. I'm glad everybody liked the movie, too. I was nervous that it would be a letdown, but people apparently enjoyed it. Memories are a grand thing. "Chicago" tomorrow at Proctors...it's going to be sexy. We should see more shows, you know. Movies kind of suck in comparison. Sorry if I kind of dropped the ball on that one Ashley, it was out of my hands. No, really, it was. Seriously. Next weekend, I promise. It seems strange, but today felt a little bit like summer. No obligations or due dates, just a day of letting it all out. Too bad it's not going to last for the next few months...hey, in a few weeks, it'll be Christmas. I'm asking for a guitar. I might even learn to do something with it. Let's have a sleepover real soon.

In a movie I once saw someone said that happiness is the hopeful expectation of good things to come. It's not simple satisfaction that can end at any time, it's the belief in the boundless opportunities and possibilites of the future. I've been having that a lot lately...it's not a bad feeling. I got that one from The Hours, a fantastic film. Meryl Streep is truely an amazing actress; that was the first film I've seen with her in it (I think), and I was blown away. She dominates every single scene she's in. It's an acting clinic...everything her character feels is expressed on her face, all in logical, flowing procession. I could watch a full-length film of just her in character. It's very interesting to watch movies from the acting perspective, it peels back the layers of meaning behind every line and camera angle. Of course, tons of movies dont have much depth, but good ones do. I read an article in the paper the other day about how there's so many young actors coming out of schools, and fewer and fewer roles to play. It's kind of disappointing, considering how acting is sort of my dream. According to Mr. Nelson, an acting career is something to be avoided at all costs...oh well, some dreams are just better left unexplored I guess. I don't think I have what it takes to make it in that field anyway. There are other dreams to chase. My Thanksgiving this year was much cooler than usual. Usually it involves going to Lexington to share the meal with my upper-crustish family from my mother's side. Not upper-crust really...more like middle class that pulled themselves up an echelon. Anyway, it's usually a pretty boring affair. This year was about the same, except in Connecticut with another uncle's family, and the day afterward we visited the other side of my family on the coast. It's such a contrast between the two sides, as it probably is with most families. My mother's side is very all-American, my father's side is a bit more erudite, more cultured. They have the feel of old money, even though they lost most of it a while ago. Not snobbish at all, just more refined. They're all artists too. The output of paintings and etchings is incredible, really...we ran out of space for it all years ago. We actually went to New London to visit my Uncle Bob and Aunt Ruthie in order to pick up some more artwork by my late Grandpa Roger, my dad's dad. After we had loaded the stuff onto the roof of the car, we went for a stroll on the amazing New London beach. It's so beautiful. There wasn't any snow, but it was bitterly cold, and the wind whipped up short little breakers on the surface of the ocean. The beach itself is massive, stretching for as far as you can see in both directions, and at least 100 meters wide. The sand is white, calcium carbonate grains created from the shells of ancient creatures millions of years old and ground down into tiny bits by the pounding waves. It was quite a feeling...what it is about the sea that makes us feel so much closer to our dreams? Is that what happens whenever we approach the infinite? Victor Hugo wrote that the only thing bigger than the sea is the sky, and the only thing bigger than the sky is a human soul. "To approach the infinite is to approach the mirror image of our own soul, which is God." Or something like that. I picked up a nice seashell to keep the place fresh in my mind. This has gone on long enough, I'll end it right here.