LOLA
Once again, Oscar has guilted me into writing a quarantine entry. (Thanks a lot, pal.) I suppose I should be more driven than ever to be writing and researching and putting together pieces, but at this point (what is it, week eight? Week nine?) I just... didn’t feel like it was worth writing one.
Don’t get me wrong. I’m proud of The Eagle’s Scream– immensely proud— for continuing to put out content. And mentally, I know that in a few years these entries are going to be important documentations of what life under quarantine was like. That just by recording this unprecedented instance in time is doing our part.
But as conditions worsen and I find myself with less and less work to do, the existential dread has started to seep into corners of my headspace. And even though I’m really not doing much around the house— cooking/baking, walks, and reading new books lent by Eleanor’s mom (thank you to the OG homie Alison Dalton)— every day more and more Catch 22’s are popping up and paralyzing me from doing... anything.
I’ll explain those in a minute, but the point is that even though I’m more relaxed on a daily basis than I’ve been for years, I’m also in a very high-strung, nerve-flaying limbo that keeps me from doing things and thus, somewhere along the line, I wondering how doing nothing could merit an entry.
However, a couple of days ago I started reading through old scrapbooks and diaries. Though it’s hard to fill a notebook up, I noticed that every year of my life was more or consistently documented.. except for junior and senior year. Bombarded with work and stress and squirming under the awful, stinking weight of upcoming college applications, I consistently told myself I no longer had time for writing. In reality, it was more like I was hiding from it. I essentially censored myself– a ticking time bomb of stress— for two years. And now I realize what a huge disservice it was to myself. (I can barely remember junior year anymore, just a vague, foggy sense of doom that diluted all the bright spots).
Mourning the loss of two years’ worth of writing is pointless, but I’m grateful to have caught it when I did. Writing is an important outlet that helps us make sense of very confusing times, and forces us to slow down, focus on the details, and spot emerging patterns. Patterns like those pesky little Catch-22’s.
Catch 22’s That Enter My Brain Every Morning
I need to exercise. Run, do yoga, something. But I need to motivate myself to do that, and I’m only motivated when I feel like I have a fresh start, and that feeling only comes after a shower. But I can’t shower and then go sweat. Then I’ll have to take another shower. Dammit.
I need to stay off social media today, or at least temper the time being spent on it, so that I don’t start thinking of it as a source of validation again. Time would be better spent and validated talking to friends... through social media? Dammit.
I need to catch up on the news. But before I do that I need to refresh myself on which outlets are staying objective... by turning to other news outlets... Dammit.
I should make a slam poem out of those. The chorus refrain would be dammit.
Anyway, I guess my point here is that nothing of much import has happened because I keep getting stuck in little whirlpools of my own design. But I’m also grateful, because I have lots of time on my hands for writing myself out of them. And I laud my fellow journalism classmates for doing the same.
And that’s not to say nothing good happened this past week, either!
Crunchy Nuggets of Awesomeness, Week of May 12th
I turned in my Northwestern Housing Contract and finally FaceTimed my wonderful new roommate, Yulan Guo. We had fun roasting my theatre kid past and her school’s enthusiasm for lacrosse (which I guess exists outside of Gossip Girl?? Wild.)
It was announced that Rick Riordan (known to many as ‘Uncle Rick’) is developing a second go at adapting the Percy Jackson novels into a Disney Plus series. My friends and I have been rehashing opinions, favorite passages from the books, fan art (did Viria do too good of a job illustrating Leo Valdez? Discuss) and, of course, [CENSORED]-ing on the movie adaptations.
I baked a skillet cookie. It was glorious.
Toodles, Lola
PEARL'S SIGNIFICANTLY WORSE ENTRY
I don’t have anything cute n introspective to say like Lola did; all I’ve really been doing is nothing.
That’s not even true, I feel like I’ve been doing a lot, but when I pause to think about it I can’t think of one thing that’s notable enough to even mention.
I’ve completely given up on English, and I keep ignoring notifications so I don’t feel guilty about seeing Ms. Ortiz’s name and knowing she would be disappointed I’m not trying harder. :(
It’s just so much work. I have tests coming up this week. I have two for math that will determine whether or not I pass or fail the class (woo!) and I still don’t know how exponential growth/decay works so
I was going to finish that sentence but I got distracted by the band 100 gecs, which I guess I’m a fan of now. I’m glad y'all got to see my distractibility firsthand.
yo 100 gecs kinda slaps tho
My dad’s quarantine buzzwords: antsy, lethargic, productive, useless
I’ve been watching the reality show Terrace House, which is cool because it satisfies my weird never ending urge to spy on other people in the name of discovering exactly what other people talk about. This is why I love seeing screenshots of conversations and listening in when other people talk. Does this make me sound creepy? I probably am. The show is more or less just like watching hot roommates: a) go on the occasional date, and b) try to further their careers.
bruh i hope this isnt what like, historians base teenage quarantine life off of because like,
i am not sure i am a particularly good example
Ive been eating almost exclusively pasta and rice for the last three thousand years,, im surprised that my stomach isn’t like suspiciously pasta shaped
anyways im hungry for pasta dinner so i gotta post this so i can eat and u guys want me to eat right ur willing to sacrifice quality content for a content stomach right ok cool thanks guys i knew i could count on u bye