The Diary of One Who is Truly Focused

 

That one, being one of your humble webmistresses. We all know quite well of those fateful days: June 5th and 6th. Well, for the 168th birthday of the tragic adventure at the barricade, I celebrated.

June 4th, 2000

The 4th of June was a slow day. (Mostly because it was my Grandmother's, may she rest in peace, birthday. You know how that goes.) Sitting alone in my room, listening to Michael Ball belt out 'Love Changes Everything', I decided to get a little revolutionary with my... nails, yes. Figuring that ten can't be divided by three, I painted the first three nails blue (Whitney and Manda insisted that it was purple... bugger to you, too), the four white, and the last three red, I had turned both of my hands into the French flag.

"Oh my God, get that off your nails, Jai." My mother protested. Did I listen? Of course not. So my nails stayed tricolour, which added to my Revolutionary garb for that Monday at school.

June 5th, 2000

For Monday, the fifth day of June, I searched through my closet for anything red and black. (Which, I assure you, was not hard. That mostly... would have been everything) Settling upon a black pair of obnoxiously tight bell bottoms (Anything for my boys...) and a quarter-sleeved red shirt, I felt pretty Revolutionary. But just to tie the rest of the outfit together, I pulled my hair back with two red scrunchies, and two black, alternating of course. With my black combat boots, I felt about ready to head to the Barricades.

On the bus, Manda looked to me. "It's that day, isn't it?"

"Oui. Where's your red and black, young lady?"

"Uh.. I've got my maroon shirt, and look! Black lining!" she told me, pointing to various patches of Red and Black on her backpack and shirt. "I'm revolutionary!"

"YAY!"

Upon arriving to school, I was greeted at my locker by one of my best friends from Homeroom, Whitney Pappas. Whitney only smiled at me, and then broke into giggles. "Jai... what's with the nails?"

"Oh, you, Manda and Mum... you all have odd tastes."

"That's you... Anyway, what's with the... outfit and nails?"

"The barricade was erected today... one-hundred some-odd years ago."

"Um... yea!"

That was basically my conversation all day from all my friends. I found myself humming 'Red and Black' and 'Do You Hear the People Sing' all day. It was great!

During Life-Skills, my teacher Mrs. Kliener, was taking attendence. Usually something I replied to with very low interest.

"Nathan Graves?"

"Hi!"

"J'Aimie Graham?"

"Oui, Madame,"

"Excuse me?"

"Er... here."

And so my Revolutionary Day progressed. Later that afternoon, I had tap lessons. INSISTING that I leave the house in Red and Black, just because, I found my favorite red cris-crossing (in the back) leotard, and... MY BLACK SLINKY PANTS?! Where were they?! I told my Mum I would *NOT* leave the house without my black pants, so I tore through the house searching. Being the dork I am, I realized the entire time they were shoved in the back of my closet, so pulling them on happily, we were on our way to Manchester for my lessons.

The 25 minute ride was only signifigant as we listened to the Tenth Anniversary Concert Recording in the car. Singing happily along with my men, my brother complained and my Mum only sighed.

My friends Ashley, Michelley (Michelle... I just talk funny), and my other friend Whitney were already at the studio, and upon my arrival, I ran to Ash, who's also a Les Mis fan (Actually, close to my twin too, but that's another story), and showed her my nails and outfit.

"What's today Ash... you know this really."

"Uhhh... Bastille Day?"

"Nooooo... think of my boys and the Barricade."

She shrugged, and I reminded her of the glorious day. She smiled, and shoved me into the dance room.

That night, before heading to bed, I frantically searched for a pair of red and black pajamas, and... my search failed me. Grumbling, and heading to bed in *NORMAL* pjs, I swore to celebrate more the next day...

June 6th, 2000

Tuesday was really no different from Monday. I wore black Union Bay bell-bottoms, a red shirt, and black vest over it all. Because I had... that horrid, wretched class known only as Gym, I had to wear my hair in a simple ponytail, but I added red and black streamers just because.

My nails stayed the same, I'm sure you're all thrilled. The day progressed slowly, bar the Math Test, which... I only hope Combeferre 'assisted' me with. And then came... Gym.

Of course, this too was colour coordinated. Black Nike shorts and another red shirt made me look all the more... Revolutionary, yes. I whispered to my Whitney:

"Get this, I represent the rebels... Mr. M is the National Guard."

Because I really don't care for Gym (or my teacher, actually), this worked nicely. Though... I couldn't get my hands on a saber or carbine for the period, so I shrugged off the blood.

After the period had finally ended, I entered the Girls Locker Room with a patriotic cry of "VIVE L' FRANCE! LONG LIVE THE REPUBLIC!" which only got a roused cry of "SHUT UP JAI!" from all present.

So what if Goffstown isn't Patriotic? I'll still celebrate next year. And the year after... etc. It's kind of neat when you look at it, because several of my online friends, I'm sure (RIGHT online friends?), did the same. The next day, 'cause I feel like it, I'll wear lots of black... to mourn. So shoot me?

Maybe... I'll be lucky, and next year... and... No... nevermind.

~~J'Aimie Michelle Graham : June 6th, 2000~~

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