(in 1998, it iced on christmas eve and we could not go to mississippi.
for young oline, this was the worst thing ever in the history of all the world.)
Thursday, 11:26, 24 December 1998
trans.: Christmas Eve of my senior year has come and is about to pass away. We ate Winnie the Pooh pasta with Daddy's spaghetti sauce. We opened our presents by the tree. Gran and Paw-Paw have no power and have no way of even boiling water. For the first time in our lives, Mummy and I did not spend Christmas with the grandparents. I've wanted so much for this to Christmas to be a culmination of all of the Christmases of my childhood. It has been none of those. Everything we had planned has come to nothing. All of my hopes for a special Christmas have faded into a depressed sense of finality: That this is it... My last Christmas at home and I'm more unhappy and discontented than I've ever been before. I'm scared to death about the future. I['m] terrified by the idea that in 6 months I will be a graduate. Life as I have always known it will be different. I feel horribly alone.