Perhaps it might be of some interest to you fine folks out there (though not me in the least) to read some of my journal entries from my senior year in high school. I never kept a journal for very long, and these were written for an English class, but be that as it may, they are still a slice of Matt history:
Sunday, November 3, 1996
I can’t believe it’s already November. It seems like September was just yesterday. Although the closeness of winter does not warm too many hearts, the transitional season is certanly not without its own joys. The leaves are one of the them. Looking out the car window last week, when I was on the youth retreat in the mountains, it was as if God had spilled on purpose His celestial paint bucket on the hillsides. The deluge of vibrant color was overwhelming.
I went by a discount store today to pick up some film and they had their Christmas decorations out. Their Christmas decorations! Halloween has just passed! This is, in the opinion of the author, rampant, insane, and totally out-of-control consumerism. I could not believe that. I think stores should at least wait till the beginning of December.
Monday, November 4, 1996
Anoter typical Monday (if you want the definition for that , see the October 7 entry). This week is crunch time for school with a capital “C.” This is week 9 out of 9 for the first quarter of the school year. That means, quite simply, that if I don’t have 9 weeks worth of work in an envelope on its merry way to Washington state where my correspondance people are, my head will be severed quite painfully from the remainder of my body. But this is a PG-rated journal, so I can’t go into details.
Attended Shakespeare Club meeting today. It was fun; we’re making progress with the play. I’m really not making any progress, though, fitting into the group. Not that I’m trying too hard; I do believe there to be much merit in being an individual, it’s just that it would be nice to be included in discussions and things like that sometimes.
Saturday, November 9, 1996
Today was the only day in one and a half yars of woking at Harris Teeter that I have witnessed the arrival of more than enough baggers. We actually had enough baggers to supply each register with one and have one bring in carts from the parking lot. I guess you really had to be there to experience the feeling, to know the thrill.
My parents and I saw a concert this evening at the Arts Center in Chapel Hill. Many different kinds of musicians were there. Every band, we noticed, had its own unique style, but a common theme united the concert: NC folk music and folk music from around the world.
We really had a lot of fun. The atmosphere was great–sort of like a coffeehouse, with the tables and all; dim lighting by exposed bulbs in a ceiling with its inner workings bared. A former teacher of mine performed–one David DiGiuseppe, a wizard of the accordion. Yes, I used to play the accordion. No kidding. As you may have inferred, I love accordion music, and the master did not disappoint, with a smattering of folk tunes spruced up with some of his own compositions. It was great to hear that instrument’s reedy voice and nostalgic, European sound after such a long hiatus
Monday, November 11, 1996
I really need to finish my work for this quarter. It is now the 11th week out of 9. This discrepancy does not make for a happy mom.
This was the third night in a row that I’ve been out for the evening. Today it was to a Wycliffe Bible Translators banquet with my parents. In case you haven’t heard of the organization, their title pretty much says it all. The banquet was a lot of fun, though. The chicken and cream dish was top-notch, and the speakers for Wycliffe were great. One of them was a missionary pilot, and he told us some missionary anecdotes and stories the way only missionaries can do (you know).
I would like to be a missionary pilot. I have always loved airplanes and flying, and that career choice would let me fly and do God’s work (though I suppose God’s work is whatever we choose to do anyways).
Tuesday, November 12, 1996
Physics class was this evening, yet again. She talked about “circular motion and forces” in great detail, confounding everyone except me (who did Saxon Physics last year) and Aaron (the brainiac). This gives me a sort of unfair advantage that I like.
Wednesday, November 13, 1996
Today was totally out of character for a Wednesday; it was quite busy.
Most of today’s busy-ness revolved around my car. You see, I replaced the front tires on it; actually, I swapped the front tires on my car for another Toyota’s that had been totalled; actually, I didn’t swap tires, I paid a mechanic muchos simoleans to pry the tires off the rims, switch them, and reattach them to my vehicle.
I was thinking about our cat, Cleo, today, and I just marveled at how God created such a consummate example of grace and fluidity. A cat is so poised and elegant in everything she does. Cats are well-proportioned as well, with their sinewy strength. They are just living works of creative art to me.