Triumphal return?

It seems like everyone I know has a blog now. I had one in seventh grade (way back when I didn't understand the meaning of the word "discretion") where I talked about how it was so great to be a UU and ballet was my LIFE, just my whole LIFE. Maybe it'll be different this time around. I mean, it should be. Everyone likes to think that they've experienced some emotional growth since middle school.

But I digress. I was ahead of my time, and now everyone has a blog that's really, really depressing, and I always have to decide if I want to find out about my friends' deep, innermost feelings or maintain some serenity. It's a bad thing. But what the hell, I'm all in for now.

I've been feeling more and more Franny Glass lately. Now, rereading Franny and Zooey three times in two days may have contributed to this, of course, but I believe it also has something to do with the disgusting amounts of ego, ego, ego that one endures as a student at Centaur High. The other day in my English class, everyone was talking about how gay and simple it must be to not be burdened with vast intelligence, and to be able to partake of the satisfaction that comes from painting a house or doing something with your hands. (You can really tell I've been reading Salinger.) And nobody realized what a self-indulgent conversation that was! It's disgusting. I half-want to start reciting the Jesus prayer- but how redundant, especially after reading the book and knowing what I now know.