(From a writing perspective, this entry is cringe-worthy, but I love it for the ending and for its honesty. Most though, I love that I used something of my surroundings to get at a story.)
San Francisco, October 22, 2003:
Yesterday, when we got off the ferry to Alcatraz, a man told us we just had one mandatory stop, then we could do whatever we wanted. He was telling us where that stop was, but somehow, Jesse and I got confused and didn’t know where to go. I was so worried, and I seriously thought we would get yelled at if we “got caught.” My worrying ruined what I could’ve seen because I was so concerned about making a mistake and getting into trouble. It also drove Jesse crazy.
As we were walking up an extremely long hill, I started thinking about my first few days at Calvin. All the Freshmen were supposed to do these things that I didn’t want to do. But if we didn’t do them, we wouldn’t get our schedules. All we were doing were these stupid get to know me games, and I hate those things. So I figured out my way around and got my schedule my own way. And I could’ve cared less that I didn’t “follow the rules.”
In contrast, the Alcatraz event is MUCH different than Calvin. I think what I did as Calvin was mildly worse than Alcatraz. First, because I didn’t mean to not follow the rules at Alcatraz. I knew exactly what I was doing at Calvin.
The other way is how different my reaction was. If someone would’ve confronted me at Calvin and told me I was doing something wrong, I would’ve said, “Screw you.” I just didn’t care. But if someone at Alcatraz “caught” me, I probably would’ve started to cry.
What happened to that girl? Where did she go? And who is this crazy young woman taking her place?
This is our last day in San Francisco. We have no plans. I want to be the Calvin girl, not the Alcatraz girl.
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