Apparently, when one leaves grade school behind, one 'culminates', not 'graduates'. The reason being, I suppose, that they will never again be in grade school.

Huh. So the youngest 'culminated' yesterday, along with seventeen other fifth graders who are going on to middle school for sixth grade. (It's a choice in Simi Valley - stay in grade school, or ramp up to middle school.) He has another day of school today, but it's mainly fun stuff, an auction, play time, and they get out at noon. His last day of 'easy' school, bless his heart.

The eldest, on the other hand, was 'promoted' to high school yesterday evening, along with 719 of his classmates. (So they neither culminate, nor graduate, from middle school. Fascinating.) He, on the other hand, is now looking forward to his high school career, trying to figure out now what classes he'll need to take in the summer between 9th and 10th grades so he can fit in his computer animation class. He is so relieved to see middle school in his past, it's almost not funny!

We celebrated the events by going out to dinner last night at El Patio, our neighborhood Mexican restaurant. It was packed, as were most of the restaurants around town. We have four or five middle schools, I think - and if all of them had as big a promoting class as my son's, then there were a lot of families out on the town, celebrating. It's a good thing.

Now I have to think about what to do with them for the summer. Something to stretch their minds and keep their bodies healthy - and perhaps give them some skills, too, for everyday living. All that and write a novel, too. This'll be interesting...

*****************************************************
Got up around 2:30am, unable to sleep. After wading through emails I opened my novel file and wrote. Or, rather, embellished. It's starting to feel like painting - the outline of the story is all there, the shape, the sense; now I'm adding the brushstrokes that bring the story and the characters to life. It's a terrific feeling, if somewhat inconvenient - to be writing at this time of the morning - but after the drought I've gone through, I'm beginning to see the light.

And the truism remains true - when you don't write, the fears become magnified - you're worthless, you can't tell a story to save your soul, hang it up, go flip burgers. And when you write - there's the flicker that, yeah, perhaps it doesn't suck and this story is worth something and that you should stick with it.

So in a funny way, writing takes away the hurt that not writing inflicts.

It's amazing how brilliant one can feel on four hours' sleep, two pieces of toast, and a cold cup of sleepytime tea.