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Brian just told me that he can't come tomorrow. I'm not sure why I bothered asking. He'd rather me be a concept than an actual person he has to deal with. I did want him to be there. And I'm unhappy that he can't and he's sorry.
So it really will just be my mother there. No one else that I invited wanted to go, either.
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It's the day before graduation, and I feel nothing. I'm not excited, or even really looking forward to it. It's just something I know I have to do... But have no real problem with. I spent today cleaning guinea pig cages, laundry, packing, working out the bugs in the group money fund (which was like pulling teeth to accomplish), and I worked for roughly an hour until they sent me home. I only had a 3 hour shift, so. I won't miss $13. My parents got me a cake from Giant with my picture on it, as well as the OCHS hornet in a corner. When I decided I wanted to cut the cake, my mother lightly dropped a card with "For Our Chrisy" written on it. Inside was a nice card, as well as $200. Yes 
I'll be able to afford the digital camera that I wanted. Yay.
I wish I was excited about tomorrow? Why does it mean nothing to me? Am I just treating it like work, as something I do not want to do, but am using the learned trick of just not caring. Could it be because I've seen too many graduations? Or because I could really care less what they say at the ceremony, as it is always what everyone else says. I am looking forward to hearing Lindsay's speech for Valedictorian, as well as the two other people who are getting the same honor. I don't really know of anyone else who will be speaking, except maybe for Anglea. I just... What is there to look forward to? Why is any ceremony looked forward to? If you have seen one, you have seen them all. There is nothing original, and there are no surprises to wait on the edge of your seat for. Blah.
My mother is the only one who's coming. Not because my father is an asshole, but because his foot hurts so bad that he can barley walk. And even if the thought he could make it, I would tell him he's not going, because I would be too embarrassed by him hobbling around pathetically, breathing the way he does, and grunting to himself to try to suck up the pity he can. He's dumb. If it was that bad, he should have gone to the hospital instead of waiting from Wednesday until Monday for a Doctor's appointment, when in reality, the doctor probably won't be able to do all that is needed and will send him there, anyway. Or just schedule another appointment with another doctor that he would need to wait for. How can people become so ignorant just because they're old?
I'm so calm and bored that that will probably be the reason why I cannot sleep. That is in contrast to all the other people who are as of right now tossing and turning on the verge of nervous sleep in hopes for tomorrow to come faster. Uggggghhh.
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It's over with. I went into school a litter earlier than 9, walked around the halls with Lindsay before second period, took my Algebra exam, and now I am home. I don't have any feelings of loss, or any feelings for that matter. Everything feels so normal that the very fact of that is almost upsetting. That was the last time I will be in that school, unless by some rare chance I come back to visit. I used my locker combination for the last time, talked to Sandy at our cars, pulled out of the parking space that will be someone else's from now on, and drove out of the parking lot for the finale. I'm wondering if all of this really is supposed to mean something - should I really be concerned with trying to imprint my last couple of hours I spent before officially being apart of the "real world." I want to cry about it. I want to be sad for all the times I was happy with being there, and being innocent and protected. It hasn't sunk in. No matter how many times I have phrased it, nothing has been able to cause that wave of panic over me. I left the school almost as if I was hurrying. How sick is that.
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I think my father quit his job this morning. I overheard him talking on the phone, in a pathetic soft tone. Fucking pathetic. Oh well, I guess. His job was pointless, anyway. He had been working since February and not a penny was saved.
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Yesterday morning me and my father had an argument because I was running late at getting to Stephen's house and I had been trying to ask my father a simple question, but after I had repeated it for the 6th time, and even once explaining why I was asking, my father was basically ignoring me. Actually, he repeated twice "The guinea pigs don't have any kale" in place to where the answer to my question should have been. So, I blew up, and said, "Would you answer my god damned question so I can leave?!" He proceeded to whip around, and start screaming like a small child at me. I got the information I needed from him, although, he was being stubborn and childish as possible, and I heard him call me a "dummy" in a very hateful tone. I snapped back, "Don't call me a dummy you son of a bitch." He then called me an asshole, and I responded with verbally abusive asshole. Then I left.
Then yesterday afternoon, while he was sturring his cup of copy, I heard him say to my mother (and to me as well) that I had called him a son of a bitch that morning, and because of that he wasn't going to my graduation, because he didn't see any reason to honor me, and that he didn't want to discuss it. Good. It's amazing how people like my father actually think they deserve apologies, and that making threats like that are supposed to be good enough persuasion to develop regret. If anything, I am glad he is not going, because everytime I have ever had a stressful event/situation to go through, sometimes I make mistakes, and then he yells at me and makes me cry and ruins everything.
Blah. I don't feel like writing anything else.