Blogaday 15 of 20

Day 15. That's seventy-five percent completion. Three quarters of the marathon run. It hasn't been all of what I expected it to be, but I suppose that that's the point. Blogaday finds its beauty in its defenseless existence. It simply is. There aren't any official reasons that it exists, and that quality makes it nearly invulnerable. It doesn't matter if you hate blogaday, because blogaday doesn't have feelings. Blogaday's value doesn't change relative to how people feel about it. It's here because I said it would be here. It's defenseless and invulnerable. Kind of an interesting deal.

Today was Jimmy Falcon's, and I had a really good time. Everything went off very smoothly. The dance was a lot more fun than I expected it to be. I had my hair straightened for the first time ever. It didn't make much of a difference, but it was still a fun adventure. It was fun to dress up differently than I ever really have before. It was a very different style dance, but it was a good time.

I have a wound on one of my fingers, and I'm not sure where it came from. It's a pretty cool looking wound, just a long scratch really. It reminds me of how incredibly cool we really are. My skin is taking care of the wound as I sit here and type. It's been making progress on this baby since the moment I got it. Things have changed for that finger over the course of this day. Radical processes have been underway since 4 oclock this afternoon to make things right. It's cool to know I've got a man on the inside working on it. Those cells are pretty boss.

For many years, it's been against the rules for me or any of my friends to talk about the social ladder. Or the social circle. Or the social graph or anything else of that nature. It's been taboo to talk about where we stand, where others stand, and actions that people are taking to make sure they stand in one particular space. One can study pretty deeply into all of that nonsense. Me and my boys have always figured that the best way to solve the problem would be to ignore the problem, in this one, very particular, case.

This whole idea of a social caste system is interesting. I believe that it's a construct of our imaginations. I believe that if nobody believed in the caste system, it'd cease to exist. I've done my best to disbelieve in it. I try to not judge people based on how I think they fit into the spectrum. I don't like the idea of the system, and I still don't fully believe that it really is corporeal.

But I'm not necessarily here to talk about the "system". I would like to talk a very bit about this whole social business though. I've been wondering a bit lately about where I fit into things. I've been wondering about what my relationship is with certain people. What niche am I filling in this person's life, or this other person's?

Four of us made a little diagram of the social groupage in government a few days ago. As I understand things, I've always been in the same group as Levi, James, and Kyle. If all else fails, I can fall back on those guys. People have come and gone and got really really close to me, oftentimes a lot closer than I've been to any of those four. I've been better friends with people than I've been friends with those three. But things still remain, those three guys and I comprise a very basic unit in this diagram of groupage.

Mind you, the groupage isn't important. The diagram isn't important. It's just very interesting to note the niche that I fill in those three guys' lives compared to the niche I fill in others. It's interesting to note that none of those three even know I'm doing blogaday. James will occasionally stumble across the blog, but I'm willing to bet that's less than once a month, and I don't think he sticks around to read much. Kyle's not going to commit the time to read, and Levi is very rarely surfing the Internet. Even if those three knew how much I've been writing these past two weeks, I doubt they'd read it.

And really, I'm alright with that. I know that they are not in my audience. I don't pretend to fill that niche in their lives. Writing has been a big part of what I do lately, but that part of my life just isn't part of the crossing of us four's lives. It's just the way things are.

Parrish says I talk fast, and Kyle's mom doesn't understand much of what I say. A lot of people may perceive me as arrogant. Some people have never talked to me, but know my name. They've got no idea of the face, but they've heard the name or seen the pumpkin. Some people aren't aware of my existence. Some people were in my driver's ed class. What's my relationship with those people?

These past few weeks have been interesting in regards to relationships with people. I've been being attacked more than I have been in the past. I honestly have been attacked very very little- almost a negligible amount. But I've never been attacked before, it's a very interesting feeling.

I think my question here is, "where do I fit in with people?" I know that I fit in differently with every person that I associate with, but I'm asking that question for every single person. Is that the place I want to fit in with that person?

I fear that because of the way I've acted, I've become dissociated. I know it's taboo, but what if I really am just a name to some people? What if I've somehow become a legend to one single kid, but that kid doesn't know how I really am? What if I've never been anything personal to that kid?

I've talked with a few people about this stuff lately. It's been interesting to see their answers. I've been coming to this point for a very long time. Girls have said that I'm intimidating. That really surprised me when I heard it. I never aimed to be intimidating.

But apparently I am, and that's a very very interesting situation to be in. How could I become something that I never even tried to become? Did it just come with the territory? Was it bagged and lard'ed on to some other decision that I made?

And it's not like I'm intimidating just any girls. It's good friends that I've known for three years now. People I've talked with and done a lot of business with.

And I don't purport to have these girls shaking in their boots. But am I scary enough to prevent a girl from coming up to me and telling me something she needs to tell me? Maybe.

And I know that this is taboo, I really do. I know that I'm not supposed to be saying any of this. Perhaps this will be the very first post in a very long time that I want to delete come morning time. It's risky territory, because it's socially unacceptable, at least according to my feelings, to talk about stuff like this. It's in bad taste.

But perhaps it needs to be talked about. I want to be known by people for the way that I make them feel. I believe that I've got accomplishments, yeah. I know they're not huge, but they mean something to me. I know that my name gets tossed around a bit. I know they made that typo on the email. Yeah, I know that Harward talks about me to his juniors sometimes.

But I don't want to be a shadow. I don't want to just be a silhouette, where people only have an idea of me. I'd love to be accepted or rejected or feared or loved based on the kind of person that I am.

It's an interesting situation to be in. I think that we all, more or less, find ourselves in a situation. Some are complained about, others are rejoiced over. Some people air their grievances publicly, and others wet their pillows over it under the moon.

The situation is based upon this construct, and the construct plays with imaginary currency. It doesn't really matter, at all. This social ladder, this social whatever it is, doesn't even exist. But we empower it when we give it credence.

And for a construct that doesn't exist, it sure does interesting things to us.

I worry that the imaginary lines are getting in the way of real interaction. I worry that I'm missing opportunities because of the imaginary rules. I worry that I judge others, and that others judge me, based on this social constitution that's never been penned.

I suppose it goes back to a question we talked about a while ago. "When did I become me?" Who me is depends upon how we define our worth. Do I find my worth through accomplishments, through the perceptions of others, through my kindness and service? Is it my reflection in the mirror, the state of the minivan? Is it what my teachers think of me, my test scores and my GPA? How do I define my worth?

And how I define my worth leads to how I want to metered by others. What do I want them to look at? When they're evaluating me, what metric do I want them to use? What do I want to judged on?

I think that understanding that is pretty crucial. I also think that I don't have the answer to that question as firmly as I'd like to. I think I know what it is, yeah, but I don't know if I work on it as much as I ought to. If I do know the answer, I ought to be making that one of the most important things. Because if that's how I define my worth, and if I'm interesting in increasing my own personal worth, I ought to be working on it.

How do I see myself? How do others see me? Are either of those important? Are they the same, or different? If they are different, is that my fault, or theirs? If they are different, is that important? If it is important, what can I do to change that?

Now, I don't want one to get the idea that I'm incredibly dissatisfied with my life. I don't want you to think that I hate everybody, either. I don't think that I'm a victim, and I don't think that the world owes me. But this discrepancy between how I want to be seen and how I am seen is interesting. It's interesting because I didn't work to make it happen, but it did. It's interesting because I don't know what I can do to necessarily change it. It's a very interesting situation.

Do you remember that sandwich I wrote about a week or so ago? I said I'd made a sandwich, but had only finished half of it. I said I wouldn't finish the rest that night, and I predicted that I'd just throw it away the next day. You know, I didn't throw it away. I ate it the very next day after school. It was still on my desk, and it definitely tasted better the second day than it did the first. I was a lot more hungry the second day, I think that's why.

And why mention the sandwich, after going on for so long about something that looks a lot deeper? There are lots of reasons, really. Maybe I'm trying to make a point about how important things really are. I'm not, really, but it's not a bad idea. I think I wanted to end the sandwich story. I had started it, and wanted to do it justice. The sandwich did get eaten. It fulfilled the measure of its creation.

Indeed, friends, it's time to wrap blogaday day 15 up. It's been a good post to write. I think it's been good for me. In any event, I hope that you're all doing well. I hope that you find the happiness that you're looking for. This is the end of blogaday day 15.