So, they tell me I'm depressed... Man, after all these years of vehemently defending therapy and surrounding myself with friends who are depressed... you'd think I'd be just a little less embarrassed about this. Oh, well. I've always had a bit of a double standard problem.

It's been a pretty interesting week and a half, this. I guess it started when my parents complained bitterly about my lack of effort on the draft of a college essay I showed them. As per usual, they started in on me, being exactly as harsh, sarcastic and obnoxious as they pleased. I tried to tell them to stop, that I hate feeling attacked like this when all they're really doing is trying to help, but of course that just makes it worse and,. though I don't recall their exact words, they basically told me that I was getting what I deserved. I think they got the point, though, when I dropped all the paperwork in my father's lap, told him that I give up, and wandered off almost in tears for the first time in the better half of my life.

Mum hailed me on the intercom a few minutes later, and I told her, as I have several times before, that I need a therapist or a psychiatrist. She listened this time, though, and so now we're trying to find me a decent therapist. I did manage to get a psychiatrist, who I don't like very much. After all, everything I told him, he told my folks. Just as well that I recalled my aunt's advice (she's an actual therapist) and didn't tell him anything they didn't already know. He says I should just completely quit pot and cigarettes and even told my parents to drug-test me. I guess I see where he's coming from, you know, that I'll do it myself but this is sort of a little extra motivation in case I feel myself getting tempted to light up a bowl, but really. Talk about no trust.

A few nights after my very small nervous breakdown (or whatever it was), my mum arranged for me to speak to my aunt who is a therapist. I originally set out to simply talk about college, maybe get some advice for dealing with my parents, but in the end, I told her everything about myself, even some of the stuff I don't like to tell my friends. I guess I was really desperate for someone to talk to, because I would've thought even I would be more cautious than to tell my aunt things that I don't feel I could put up here lest the police find it. She was really good about it, though, and very reasonable. In the end, we went with the suggestion of my parents and pared my college apps list down to four schools that I'm at least sort of likely to get into. That's seriously a lot of pressure off... I drove home that night with the weak-kneed feeling that one gets after having either thrown up or a load lifted.

Anyway, I guess I really don't know where I'm headed, now. College, maybe, or a gap year. I suppose we'll see when the time comes.

Until then, though, thanks for reading.

-Forever Elegiac

Ska, a musical genre defined as the precursor to rocksteady and reggae characterized by a walking bassline and accentuated guitar on the offbeat, has been in and out of my life these past few years like an on-and-off girlfriend. It's very interesting to me as a genre, actually. The more mainstream, "3rd Wave" bands like Reel Big Fish (what you're listening to now) and Less Than Jake manage to combine desperate, depressed, dead-end lyrics with a stoic, reflective attitude and positively cheerful instrumentals. This audio cocktail manages to capture perfectly a certain feeling that I don't even have a word for. I usually just describe it as when you feel like you wanna laugh, cry, drink and sing all at the same time.

As I mentioned a bit earlier, ska's been a sort of on-and-off-again love of mine since the moment my old friend Poe sent me the song Gainesville Rock City by Less Than Jake, all those years ago. Since then, it's been a soundtrack and more to my life... it's full of good memories, many of which simply wouldn't have happened without it. Ska (SGR, in this case) was playing when I read my first word in another language. Ska has seen me through wild, week-long excursions to New York where my childlike innocence (I used to be a good kid. Really.)was cast aside for just those seven precious days. Ska was the topic of the evening when I met Guardian that chilly spring night. I still remember snuggling up to her through our sleeping bags, my face close to hers in the dim glow of the streetlamp, as we whispered endlessly to each other about our favourite bands, still smiling despite the cold and the fact that dawn was going to break in less than half an hour.

Ska even followed me through my brief "punk" phase last year. A far cry from the upbeat, cheering dance music of Save Ferris and other 3rd Wave bands, the rough, dirty beats of Leftover Crack and Morning Glory are popular with the sort that tend to wear studded leather and bondage pants. Songs like Crack Rock Steady and Atheist Anthem were what played as I sat on Zaknefein's mussed, worn bed and blinked lazily through the haze of marijuana smoke at whatever his latest video game obsession was. So You Wanna Be A Cop was what I listened to as I shot down Airport Road, freshly-showered and dressed in my best suit, to present before the school board in defense of Sensei.

Ska isn't just limited to 3rd Wave and Skacore, though. Not by far. Many popular bands are technically classified as ska, although one hardly thinks of them as such. For example, Flogging Molly is ska, although most of the people who listen to it have never even heard the word before. They sound rather like pirate music, thanks to their heavy Irish influence. It's catchy, though, and I once spent a month downloading all that I could find from them. Flogging Molly was what trickled from my car's 12 year old speakers as I meandered my way back home after a fencing demonstration, once... it's wonderful night driving music. Sublime, the poster-band of stoners everywhere, is also ska despite its conspicuous lack of a horn section. I once had an entire Sublime Christmas when my cousin and her now-ex-boyfriend came to visit us. It was what was playing the first time I tried drugs... worst decision of my life (including taking AP US History), but that's what I was hearing at the time through my cheap, $5 earbuds that frigid winter night.

Most of the concerts I've ever been to were ska shows. Deafening bass pumping through the gargantuan speakers of the Cat's Cradle, combined with the swaying, jumping, dancing, screaming bodies surrounding me on all sides... diving bodily into the frenetic moshpit, arm around my friend, skanking for all I'm worth and singing at the top of my lungs...

Ska; it's a beautiful thing.

-Forever Elegiac

So, I was just listening to This American Life. For those of you who don't know, it's a radio program on NPR... it's hosted by Ira Glass. I'd like to tell you more, but some things just defy description. If you wanna check it out, just go to http://www.thislife.org/

It's worth a look.

I haven't been writing so much, these days. I tend to either be out running around, doing college apps or something else. I need to start again, though. Writing can be very theraputic and god knows I should probably be in therapy.

Have a good one, guys.

-Forever Elegiac

So, it's Senior Quote time for me. Now, I think I'm like most other people when I say that, prior to now, I never really gave it much thought. Alright, so once or twice when the yearbook came out, I made some jokes as to what ridiculous, hilarious thing I could put, but I never actually bothered to remember any of them or come up with actual, plausible suggestions. But now, with senior quotes due in maybe fourteen hours, I have a bit of deciding to do.

There's really only two things people do with senior quotes. Some people take it seriously and try to come up with something really meaningful, really insightful, that'll leave readers feeling contemplative. Truth be told, it's a noble idea, but it rarely comes out as well as we'd like. And, when the quote is anything less than mind-shattering, it usually comes off as a bit stuffy. The rest of the people tend to go for something fun and silly, which usually works and makes us laugh (unless the person is an absolute blathering idiot and has a terrible sense of humour, in which case we just roll our eyes), but it's not exactly a very meaningful way to leave the only official memorial of your high school experience.

In the end, I settled on a few nice quotes that I felt combined both.

"Oh, the past. Glad that's over." -Dana

"Life is so beautiful." -Don Vito Corleone, The Godfather

'night, guys.

-Forever Elegiac

Well, guys... tomorrow's zero hour. Finally, this 8-month long annoyance will be on its way out.

What? What do you mean, what am I talking about? Oh, right. So, um, I found out awhile back what's wrong with my ankle. Turns out, it's a... bone tumor!!!! *high five!*

It's alright, though, 'cause it's benign and so I don't have cancer. It is, however, very annoying, which means it's going to have to go. Unfortunately, for it to "go" means they have to slice my ankle pretty much wide open.

Wheee!!! They'd better give me a lot of drugs.

Anyway, listen, um... I think I'd like to write more about this, but right now... let's be honest. I'm pretty scared. I'm not very coherent right now. Also, I have surgery in like, five hours (it's at six AM).

See you all tomorrow!

-Forever Elegiac