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My SAT, issues with my age, and my mom got in a fight with a baseball and lost...
11:27 AM|06-02-2002

Yesterday, I took the SAT for the first time. After it was over, I had a strangely profound feeling course through my body.

I just can't help but remember back when I was about nine, and I was reading the Sweet Valley Twins book about their SATs, and how Jessica got a higher score than Elizabeth. And I remember that I couldn't wait to be in high school, and take my SAT, because then I'd be "grown up".

Now, I look back on the memory and realize that it wasn't so long ago. Nearly nine years ago, but it feels like a day or two has passed.

Granted, it was an eventful day or two, but that's not the point. The point is that I've grown up way too fast. And I wanted it to be that way.

Which, looking back, surprises me. At the same time, though, it doesn't.

I hate being young. I had people looking down on me because I don't have the life experience that they do.

And I get insulted when people say that I have "typical teenage problems" and "typical teenage angst" just because I'm depressed. It pisses me off, even though I know that it's OK to have those problems. I just hate being "typical". And I'm unbelievably insulted when someone tells me that that I'm normal.

I don't know. Ignore all that.

*****

After the SAT, my family went to Canoe Creek and had a picnic, which started off well enough. My only issue was the damn video camera that my parents insisted on having fixated on me for about five minutes.

I realize that isn't a long time, but I hate cameras with an unbidden passion, so I have the right to be a bit frustrated.

Anyway, after we all finished eating, my brothers played home run derby with my dad beside the picnic table. My mom taped it on one of the seats at the table, and I sat right on top of it.

My brother Alan was up, and he hit the ball with his usual force. Which, as he is a baseball player, is pretty strong.

So, he hit the ball, and in the next second, my mom was screaming. Apparently, Alan hit my mom in the eye with the ball...while it was still open.

That's when I realized how strong my mom really is. She wouldn't let my dad rush her to the hospital, she wanted everything to make it home safely first. We probably would've gone straight to the hospital, but we had the dog with us, and she had to stay home.

When my mom got home, she said that her brain wasn't bleeding. She's just going to have one hell of a shiner today.

I haven't seen her yet, so I don't know about the shiner, but last night she couldn't even open her eye.

The doctor gave her some pain pills, so I think she'll be fine, but I needed to write that down, because it's important.

See you all later.

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