31 December, 2010 / 1 January, 2011
Everyone writes at the end/beginning of the year. Well, everyone that writes, anyway. But because I haven't written as much as I wrote last year, I guess I just need to kind of relive all that this year was.
I remember thinking that 2009 was a fantastic year of growth and discovery. But in actuality, 2010 was an even greater year for all of those things.
It is my hope that there will never be just THAT year in which we regard as the year of growth, but rather a year that STARTED many more years of that same mentality. I think there is a year in which we become someone we were not aware that we can be, we learn to become comfortable in this new skin, and we move forward in it. And when we do that, things happen to us. Magic happens. Life becomes bigger and exciting in all sorts of ways because we see things differently.
Last year, I grew immensely into my own identity. I learned to not live my life for other people.
I did this on the Habitat for Humanity trip to New Orleans last year. Every single time I have hopped into one of the big vans to trek for hours on the highway, I have mentally gone over the list of those people I would call my family for the week. They have always been people I typically don't talk to or hang out with. They are not people that know me like my good friends know me.
And last year while I did this, I asked myself, "Why do I still sign up for these trips and hope that I will be chosen to go if I have not ever had substantial small talk with any of these people?"
Not only that, but I was choosing to go on this trip instead of staying home at Band Camp, where many people would say I should've been, because I was needed there. I felt extremely guilty for not being there. I even brought my music with me to practice and memorize.
I always find myself surprised at the seemingly stupidest things on these Habitat trips. Having Sheehan be the first person to wish me a happy birthday on the day I turned 18 really made the day start off wonderfully. Will Schnabel wished me a happy birthday every ten minutes that day, it seemed. As I started work on building a staircase, I could hear a marching band playing in the distance.
I should've been guilty, then. I know I should've thought about everyone at home, almost see them marching and see the hole in the formation where I should be. But while I thought about them, I didn't feel bad.
I learned such a lesson that day. I learned that we are never placed where we are not meant to be in this life.
If I was not supposed to be in the heavy 90-degree weather of the Deep South, building homes among a group of people I barely knew, then I would've not been chosen for this trip at all.
And New Orleans has become a place of home for me. I think about that trip so often, and I think about the littlest things. They're the things that make me happiest.
Snoballs (especially my Hurricane-flavored one). Me holding up Aubry as we got the job done. The lunches underneath the houses. The day in which the port-o-let was sucked out and cleaned. Wheelbarrows. Screws. Nails. Beignets. Bourbon Street. Mr Schoch singing "Baby Got Back" and pulling a Z-formation. Line-dancing with Jeff Gutzweiller. OmNom (I seriously think about that dog, out of the blue).
Another way in which I've grown into my own was by realizing who I treasured in my life...and how some didn't treat me as well as people could have.
I learned that I was giving a lot to someone that never gave anything in return other than a "thank you so much." I figured that if I just kept on giving and being as good of a person as I could be, then maybe I'd win his heart. I tried to put myself in his shoes and do all the things that would win ME over, if I was him.
Looking at it in retrospect, while I wouldn't call it pathetic, it's still painful. And to think that I was totally blind to it...
The old adage is true, that "love is blind." Blindness comes in many different forms, too. And while I know that this was not love by any stretch of the imagination, it was still infatuation, and it still hurts to remember how I was willing to do absolutely anything by means of a good deed in order to earn his attention.
Do he and I talk, anymore?
Yes, seldomly. It's funny how, after looking at someone a certain way for so long, something changes and you're asking yourself "Wow, what did I see there?"
And that's perfectly okay. Because it only opened up the door for someone else, someone who treats me like I should be treated without me having to try and win him over.
In 2010, I didn't "become" anything, because people never stop growing. But I certainly have blossomed into someone that is growing and living in the most positive way that she knows.
There's been some hurting (directed at me as well as being directed from me), there's been some helping, there's been some laughter as much as there's been tears.
I continue to learn how to love in all the different ways that life has to offer. I know it sounds cliche and kind of corny, but living life, for all that it is, is the best thing in the world for me. It's a no-brainer to prefer to be alive rather than dead, but being alive and soaking it all in is what makes everything fantastic.
The next 12 months are going to be stellar. Even the worst moments are going to be stellar. I just feel it.
God, am I an optimist or what?
Friday, December 31, 2010
Tuesday, December 14, 2010
A Good Thing.
I haven't written.
Last year, I would always write stream-of-consciousness kind of stuff. And this year it seems like I can't write anything.
Part of it is time, and how busy I've been. I got caught up in actually DOING stuff so much that I hardly found time to sit down and just think.
I didn't even write my novel for NaNoWriMo. Shame, shame.
But lately I've wanted to write. In the way I did last year.
--
In the past few months, I have felt myself grow up. I would read things I wrote last year - even this past summer - and I want to slap my then-self across the head. I was ridiculous, selfish, and thoughtless with the things I would write sometimes.
I remember thinking how I used to grow as a person while writing. But I was wrong.
In these past few months, when I didn't write, I've grown so much more in ways that truly matter. I've often had to sit back and realize how much of a different person I am now.
That is what I hope life is supposed to be like. Constant growth, constant change...with important things (the things you can't see with your eyes) remaining constant as a heartbeat.
--
In the last month, I have lost a friend. I've known this person for twelve years now. We met in kindergarten, we were in Girl Scouts together, we shared absolutely everything with one another. No matter what happened between us, we would always forgive each other and move on. It was almost like the kind of friendship you found only in a storybook.
But then...a twist in our plot occured and we parted a little sooner than I had expected.
I remember how vindicated I felt when I sent her a note, telling her that I was not about to be bogged down by her old ghosts concerning Seth, and that I wanted to take a break for a while.
It just...felt so good to stand up for myself. To say, "Look - I'm tired of dealing with your bullshit. Nobody's getting anything out of this other than hurting one another, intentionally or otherwise, so just stop it."
While I have a feeling that she and I will encounter each other again someday, I'm pretty darn happy where I am right now in my life. I'm more okay now than I have been in so long.
I have wonderful friends from all walks of life, good communication between my family, I'm involved in wonderful activities in my high school, I'm going to college next year, and I have a boyfriend who makes everything fall into place in the healthiest way.
I remember about a week into Seth and I being together, Dr Dawson ran into me in the hall one morning and asked me if I had coffee for breakfast. He said, "You just look so...perky, for some reason."
Funny, the things you don't notice about yourself until someone else points them out to you.
--
Just because you're happy doesn't mean you're permanently floating in air, your problems far away.
I have discovered that it is possible to keep your feet on the ground and your head together...while being happy beyond what you could've ever imagined.
Do I know where this'll lead or how long it'll last? No - but it doesn't matter.
I'll take it anyway. This is a good thing.
--
Remember when I said that I saw things differently than I did even just a few months ago?
Or maybe I didn't say that at all...but you get it.
Anyhoozle.
At the Christmas Concert about a week ago, I was walking down the hall with Mom and Seth when I saw Andy Sturm walking toward me with a big smile on his face. I greeted him and he gave me a big, bone-crushing hug that I wasn't expecting from him.
Now, this next part I did not see, but Mom told me two days later...
Apparently when Andy gave me that hug, Seth walked on with Mom, and Mom said that Seth's face looked like his little heart was breaking. Mom wanted to tell him, "No, don't worry, it's okay..."
When she told me that, after me not even noticing it (when I came back to Seth's side, he looked perfectly normal and happy to have me there), I felt like the worst girlfriend ever.
Unconsciously, I somehow got the hint that I had to place some establishment. When Andy came back, I immediately said "Andy, I'd like for you to meet my boyfriend, Seth."
Apparently I said the magic words, the title that Seth now had in my world. I watched as Andy and Seth shook hands in that awkward stand-five-feet-away-from-each-other way that guys do, and as Seth slid back to my side, I noticed something else.
It might've been for a fraction of a second - had I blinked, I might've missed it. But I saw a flash of something cross Andy's eyes as he kept on looking at me, then at Seth, then back at me again. There was something in his eyes that I had never seen before in him.
Was it jealousy? Was it defeat?
It was sort of like a look that silently said, "Huh...so this is the guy."
No matter what it was, it was just so very strange. If I had more guts in me than I do, I would've said to him (which I'm doing now, I guess) exactly this:
"You had your chance, man. You had a MILLION chances. Now go and be happy with the girl you're with now...and care for your baby daughter."
I wish I knew how to break the tension that was filling the air.
I was facing a young man I was head over heels for last year...
...and I was standing next to a young man that makes me happy beyond measure simply because he fits into my life in such a way that I can't really describe it.
I mean, how do you think of small talk while all of this is blowing through your mind?
Looking at someone you once thought was the bee's knees not so long ago...and thinking, "Did I REALLY think of them that much?"
Not to say that Andy isn't my friend and that he isn't a good person, innately.
He is...but I just don't know how to regard him anymore. And that kind of makes me sad. I realized it would've been better to know him more as a friend rather than as that day at the Canal, had either of us wanted to potentially pursue a relationship. In my sixteen-year-old mind, that day had become my main reflection of Andy. And now, looking back on that, I realize that was very naive and self-destructive of me.
Because that day will never happen again. And I'm perfectly fine with that.
That is a very big difference between Seth and all of the other boys that I've liked.
Seth and I were best friends for about a year before we became a couple. We still keep that "friendship" part alive, too, which is the really cool thing about all of this.
We jokingly make fun of each other, we're not afraid to be silly and stupid together, he is patient with me as he teaches me card games (everything from Hearts to Magic: the Gathering), we don't mind that one likes diamonds while the other likes pearls or that one will eat pretty much anything while the other only eats American and Chinese, for the most part.
But anyway.
I think about Andy's face, and the way that I broke Caleb Tucker's heart.
It makes wonder how to maintain friendships with these two guys. I know that I'll learn eventually, but it's so interesting...seeing who makes that leap of faith and who doesn't. And there are so many different ways to leap, too.
So many ways to grow, so many different people to witness it. You have to give those people credit. Watching growth isn't easy - especially for adolescents and young adults because it can get so snarly and bruised. So much confusion.
Some of us are flowers. You know, you flourish in great glory for a while, but then you die for a time. But there's always that promise that you'll return as glorious as you were before. You give optimism and hope. No matter what happens, everyone knows that you'll bounce right back. You are spread all over when the wind blows. You are contagious in the best way.
And others are trees. You're planted, and you keep on growing. You go through seasons of warmth as well as seasons of vulnerability. But you keep on growing, and you only get bigger and greater as you get older. Your brances reach further out and you begin to have little pieces of yourself spread to anywhere that the wind blows.
...wow, what IS it with me and metaphors? Mr Potter, I'm sorry I can't seem to use this stuff when I write for your AP class.
--
Maybe I can't always keep everyone that once meant the world to me, especially if I don't see them in the same light as I used to. Oh well - that's a part of life, I guess.
Not quite sure how to end this right. I ended up jumping from topic to topic like I used to.
Hey - I guess I did this right, after all.
Happiness, happiness.
Last year, I would always write stream-of-consciousness kind of stuff. And this year it seems like I can't write anything.
Part of it is time, and how busy I've been. I got caught up in actually DOING stuff so much that I hardly found time to sit down and just think.
I didn't even write my novel for NaNoWriMo. Shame, shame.
But lately I've wanted to write. In the way I did last year.
--
In the past few months, I have felt myself grow up. I would read things I wrote last year - even this past summer - and I want to slap my then-self across the head. I was ridiculous, selfish, and thoughtless with the things I would write sometimes.
I remember thinking how I used to grow as a person while writing. But I was wrong.
In these past few months, when I didn't write, I've grown so much more in ways that truly matter. I've often had to sit back and realize how much of a different person I am now.
That is what I hope life is supposed to be like. Constant growth, constant change...with important things (the things you can't see with your eyes) remaining constant as a heartbeat.
--
In the last month, I have lost a friend. I've known this person for twelve years now. We met in kindergarten, we were in Girl Scouts together, we shared absolutely everything with one another. No matter what happened between us, we would always forgive each other and move on. It was almost like the kind of friendship you found only in a storybook.
But then...a twist in our plot occured and we parted a little sooner than I had expected.
I remember how vindicated I felt when I sent her a note, telling her that I was not about to be bogged down by her old ghosts concerning Seth, and that I wanted to take a break for a while.
It just...felt so good to stand up for myself. To say, "Look - I'm tired of dealing with your bullshit. Nobody's getting anything out of this other than hurting one another, intentionally or otherwise, so just stop it."
While I have a feeling that she and I will encounter each other again someday, I'm pretty darn happy where I am right now in my life. I'm more okay now than I have been in so long.
I have wonderful friends from all walks of life, good communication between my family, I'm involved in wonderful activities in my high school, I'm going to college next year, and I have a boyfriend who makes everything fall into place in the healthiest way.
I remember about a week into Seth and I being together, Dr Dawson ran into me in the hall one morning and asked me if I had coffee for breakfast. He said, "You just look so...perky, for some reason."
Funny, the things you don't notice about yourself until someone else points them out to you.
--
Just because you're happy doesn't mean you're permanently floating in air, your problems far away.
I have discovered that it is possible to keep your feet on the ground and your head together...while being happy beyond what you could've ever imagined.
Do I know where this'll lead or how long it'll last? No - but it doesn't matter.
I'll take it anyway. This is a good thing.
--
Remember when I said that I saw things differently than I did even just a few months ago?
Or maybe I didn't say that at all...but you get it.
Anyhoozle.
At the Christmas Concert about a week ago, I was walking down the hall with Mom and Seth when I saw Andy Sturm walking toward me with a big smile on his face. I greeted him and he gave me a big, bone-crushing hug that I wasn't expecting from him.
Now, this next part I did not see, but Mom told me two days later...
Apparently when Andy gave me that hug, Seth walked on with Mom, and Mom said that Seth's face looked like his little heart was breaking. Mom wanted to tell him, "No, don't worry, it's okay..."
When she told me that, after me not even noticing it (when I came back to Seth's side, he looked perfectly normal and happy to have me there), I felt like the worst girlfriend ever.
Unconsciously, I somehow got the hint that I had to place some establishment. When Andy came back, I immediately said "Andy, I'd like for you to meet my boyfriend, Seth."
Apparently I said the magic words, the title that Seth now had in my world. I watched as Andy and Seth shook hands in that awkward stand-five-feet-away-from-each-other way that guys do, and as Seth slid back to my side, I noticed something else.
It might've been for a fraction of a second - had I blinked, I might've missed it. But I saw a flash of something cross Andy's eyes as he kept on looking at me, then at Seth, then back at me again. There was something in his eyes that I had never seen before in him.
Was it jealousy? Was it defeat?
It was sort of like a look that silently said, "Huh...so this is the guy."
No matter what it was, it was just so very strange. If I had more guts in me than I do, I would've said to him (which I'm doing now, I guess) exactly this:
"You had your chance, man. You had a MILLION chances. Now go and be happy with the girl you're with now...and care for your baby daughter."
I wish I knew how to break the tension that was filling the air.
I was facing a young man I was head over heels for last year...
...and I was standing next to a young man that makes me happy beyond measure simply because he fits into my life in such a way that I can't really describe it.
I mean, how do you think of small talk while all of this is blowing through your mind?
Looking at someone you once thought was the bee's knees not so long ago...and thinking, "Did I REALLY think of them that much?"
Not to say that Andy isn't my friend and that he isn't a good person, innately.
He is...but I just don't know how to regard him anymore. And that kind of makes me sad. I realized it would've been better to know him more as a friend rather than as that day at the Canal, had either of us wanted to potentially pursue a relationship. In my sixteen-year-old mind, that day had become my main reflection of Andy. And now, looking back on that, I realize that was very naive and self-destructive of me.
Because that day will never happen again. And I'm perfectly fine with that.
That is a very big difference between Seth and all of the other boys that I've liked.
Seth and I were best friends for about a year before we became a couple. We still keep that "friendship" part alive, too, which is the really cool thing about all of this.
We jokingly make fun of each other, we're not afraid to be silly and stupid together, he is patient with me as he teaches me card games (everything from Hearts to Magic: the Gathering), we don't mind that one likes diamonds while the other likes pearls or that one will eat pretty much anything while the other only eats American and Chinese, for the most part.
But anyway.
I think about Andy's face, and the way that I broke Caleb Tucker's heart.
It makes wonder how to maintain friendships with these two guys. I know that I'll learn eventually, but it's so interesting...seeing who makes that leap of faith and who doesn't. And there are so many different ways to leap, too.
So many ways to grow, so many different people to witness it. You have to give those people credit. Watching growth isn't easy - especially for adolescents and young adults because it can get so snarly and bruised. So much confusion.
Some of us are flowers. You know, you flourish in great glory for a while, but then you die for a time. But there's always that promise that you'll return as glorious as you were before. You give optimism and hope. No matter what happens, everyone knows that you'll bounce right back. You are spread all over when the wind blows. You are contagious in the best way.
And others are trees. You're planted, and you keep on growing. You go through seasons of warmth as well as seasons of vulnerability. But you keep on growing, and you only get bigger and greater as you get older. Your brances reach further out and you begin to have little pieces of yourself spread to anywhere that the wind blows.
...wow, what IS it with me and metaphors? Mr Potter, I'm sorry I can't seem to use this stuff when I write for your AP class.
--
Maybe I can't always keep everyone that once meant the world to me, especially if I don't see them in the same light as I used to. Oh well - that's a part of life, I guess.
Not quite sure how to end this right. I ended up jumping from topic to topic like I used to.
Hey - I guess I did this right, after all.
Happiness, happiness.
Tuesday, November 16, 2010
A Fiery Buzz.
Screw it. The only way I'm going to truly work through this internally is by writing it out. So here I go.
I told my mother about St Baldricks back in July. At first, she said no. Then "no" became "a year into college."
She kept on saying, "I admire the cause...and you're brave for wanting to do it. But...please take prom and graduation into consideration. I mean, once you shave, you can't put your hair back on. I know it's selfish of me to think like this for you, but...please try and consider these things."
I have. And I am.
But what's really making me angry is that I'm actually having second thoughts.
I looked at all the pictures from prom last year. My hair was not much longer than what it is now...it was curly and bright. I won't lie - it looked beautiful. I felt beautiful that night, in all my finery.
And I'll admit it: I take pride in my hair. It makes me stand out.
Almost as much as being semi-bald will.
When I look in the mirror in the morning and late at night, I push my bangs back and try to picture myself with red fuzz. I try to calculate the shape of my head, see if I'll pull it off awesomely like Natalie Portman in V for Vendetta, or if I'll just look awkward.
And the thing is...my hair won't even be short as Natalie's had to be for that movie. I won't be "bald", necessarily...just buzzed.
For this, I'm actually not thinking too much about graduation. It's prom that's got me stumped. What could I do with not even an inch of hair to work with?
This year, I won't be going to just one prom. I'll be going to Southport's, too, roughly a month before mine. If I shave my head, I'll have to brave the questions of a couple hundred people I barely know or those that haven't seen me for seven years.
At Perry, it would be different. I'd ask them to donate some money towards the St Baldricks Foundation about a month before I'd shave my head. I'd tell them what the organization is all about, that thousands of men, women, and children shave their heads in solidarity to represent those with cancer. I'd tell them that all the money they gave me would go directly to cancer research.
I'd be doing it for everyone I know that has experienced cancer, of all types.
My grandmother.
My dad.
My friends Carrie and Julie's dad.
My mom's best friend Brian's parents.
And my hair would probably be up for high demand. I'd give some girl a chance to be a ginger, no matter if she was one before cancer or not.
I donated to Locks of Love the summer before 8th grade, and when they cut my hair they told me that my hair would make more than one wig. That was pretty sweet.
But despite all of this...I still step back and I think. This will be my last prom. And since I'll be going to two proms, it's going to be even more special.
I don't want to not go through with it. I told Andy Sturm that I'd shave with him. And his hair's getting awfully long and shiny and whatnot. It's the only reason he's growing it out at all. I don't want to let him down by saying "Let's wait until the end of May." Besides, March is the "official" time to participate in St Baldrick's events.
A week ago, I proposed the idea to Seth. I had already told him that I was going to shave my head, but after we decided to go to our proms together, I got second thoughts about shaving.
I mentioned waiting until after graduation.
He asked, "Why would you wait?"
I told him that a part of me wanted to go through with it at the right time, but that I realized that these were events that would not happen again. That once I shave, there's no going back. And besides, wouldn't he miss my hair?
He said, "Yes, I'll miss your hair. But I'll be right behind you no matter what. You don't care what others think - I admire that."
In a carefree manner, yet cutting right to the edge, I replied, "Well, thank you. If I end up shaving my head, I'll commend you for taking an almost-bald girl to prom."
And to that he replied,
"Well, hair grows back. Good memories don't."
Call me a sissy, but that made my eyes get misty. It still does.
I still want to shave my head. I just need to get over these second thoughts.
If not, I need to make a decision before January or February and stick with it.
But no matter if I shave in March or after graduation in May...
I am going to shave. And I will not be alone.
I told my mother about St Baldricks back in July. At first, she said no. Then "no" became "a year into college."
She kept on saying, "I admire the cause...and you're brave for wanting to do it. But...please take prom and graduation into consideration. I mean, once you shave, you can't put your hair back on. I know it's selfish of me to think like this for you, but...please try and consider these things."
I have. And I am.
But what's really making me angry is that I'm actually having second thoughts.
I looked at all the pictures from prom last year. My hair was not much longer than what it is now...it was curly and bright. I won't lie - it looked beautiful. I felt beautiful that night, in all my finery.
And I'll admit it: I take pride in my hair. It makes me stand out.
Almost as much as being semi-bald will.
When I look in the mirror in the morning and late at night, I push my bangs back and try to picture myself with red fuzz. I try to calculate the shape of my head, see if I'll pull it off awesomely like Natalie Portman in V for Vendetta, or if I'll just look awkward.
And the thing is...my hair won't even be short as Natalie's had to be for that movie. I won't be "bald", necessarily...just buzzed.
For this, I'm actually not thinking too much about graduation. It's prom that's got me stumped. What could I do with not even an inch of hair to work with?
This year, I won't be going to just one prom. I'll be going to Southport's, too, roughly a month before mine. If I shave my head, I'll have to brave the questions of a couple hundred people I barely know or those that haven't seen me for seven years.
At Perry, it would be different. I'd ask them to donate some money towards the St Baldricks Foundation about a month before I'd shave my head. I'd tell them what the organization is all about, that thousands of men, women, and children shave their heads in solidarity to represent those with cancer. I'd tell them that all the money they gave me would go directly to cancer research.
I'd be doing it for everyone I know that has experienced cancer, of all types.
My grandmother.
My dad.
My friends Carrie and Julie's dad.
My mom's best friend Brian's parents.
And my hair would probably be up for high demand. I'd give some girl a chance to be a ginger, no matter if she was one before cancer or not.
I donated to Locks of Love the summer before 8th grade, and when they cut my hair they told me that my hair would make more than one wig. That was pretty sweet.
But despite all of this...I still step back and I think. This will be my last prom. And since I'll be going to two proms, it's going to be even more special.
I don't want to not go through with it. I told Andy Sturm that I'd shave with him. And his hair's getting awfully long and shiny and whatnot. It's the only reason he's growing it out at all. I don't want to let him down by saying "Let's wait until the end of May." Besides, March is the "official" time to participate in St Baldrick's events.
A week ago, I proposed the idea to Seth. I had already told him that I was going to shave my head, but after we decided to go to our proms together, I got second thoughts about shaving.
I mentioned waiting until after graduation.
He asked, "Why would you wait?"
I told him that a part of me wanted to go through with it at the right time, but that I realized that these were events that would not happen again. That once I shave, there's no going back. And besides, wouldn't he miss my hair?
He said, "Yes, I'll miss your hair. But I'll be right behind you no matter what. You don't care what others think - I admire that."
In a carefree manner, yet cutting right to the edge, I replied, "Well, thank you. If I end up shaving my head, I'll commend you for taking an almost-bald girl to prom."
And to that he replied,
"Well, hair grows back. Good memories don't."
Call me a sissy, but that made my eyes get misty. It still does.
I still want to shave my head. I just need to get over these second thoughts.
If not, I need to make a decision before January or February and stick with it.
But no matter if I shave in March or after graduation in May...
I am going to shave. And I will not be alone.
Sunday, November 14, 2010
Prior to Blue Man.
October 20th? Really, almost a month since I wrote for this thing?
Holy Moses.
--
As of late, it feels like my life's being timed. Time by due dates, assignments FOR those due dates, and considering other obligations (like job hunting).
It makes me tired. I go home and fall asleep without saying goodnight.
--
I had my first college audition on November 5. I wasn't scared or anything, and I don't really know what else to say except that it went better than I thought it would go.
I thought about Mom, and how she kept on talking to me about how excited she was about me being accepted to Ball State. I didn't feel indifferent to the acceptance on purpose.
And I also heard her talk about DePauw. If they gave me a full ride, why don't I just go ahead and go there? And didn't I love it a lot when I went there sophomore year?
It's hard to explain.
Marian's my home. I remember thinking that on the very first day I went to the campus back in March. I remember feeling like I fit. I feel that way every time I go back. If it's money she's concerned about (and I don't care if it is...), then I'll live at home. I'll go home late at night and come back to school early in the morning, so it's not like I'd totally miss out on the college experience.
Do I want to live on campus? Yes, I'd rather do that, living on my own.
But hey. I'm willing to do anything in order to go to the school I want to go to.
--
Now for something completely different.
It's not karma, because it isn't biting me in the butt. But it's rather...a proverbial mirror. I'm now on the other side.
I remember every time Andy Sturm would like me but choose someone else in the end, and the hurt I would feel. The burn in my chest, the sick feeling in my stomach, the confusion buzzing around my head.
The tears. All the tears.
On November 12, I finally got to be in Andy Sturm's shoes.
At least, for this kind of situation.
And now I'd like to address one person.
--
Caleb Tucker, I know you don't want me to say that I broke your heart. But I know I did, just a little bit. And over time, if you'll allow me, I want to help you heal that crack.
We both knew that Seth was going to ask me. And we both knew that I would say yes.
But I know you still felt sad despite your preparing for this. I felt sad for you, because I've been in your shoes before.
I've been where you are right now many times.
Do I not like where I am now? Of course not. I do. I don't regret saying yes and I'm not backing down from it.
But now I realize the desparation Andy Sturm felt every time this happened between him and me.
I hear the sincerity in the plea that he used to say to me, which I am saying to you now: I can't lose you.
You are important. And I recognize that I hold a place of high importance in your life, as well. Please don't think that you're going to take a backseat just because I have a boyfriend. I'm not that kind of friend, that kind of person.
I'm still here. Just as much as I always have been, and always will be.
--
Okay. So you've gathered that November 12 was a rather happy day not just for me or Seth, but for many of our friends. It's almost comical to see everyone elated at the news. What made me smile the most, I think, was when my friend Kirst simply said "Finally."
When I visited Mom and Mark the day after, Mark said to me, "So you're in love."
I paused and looked at him quizzically, not sure if he was joking or not. "Uhm...I don't think so..."
"You're in a relationship? You're not in love? I'm in a relationship with your mother and I'm in love with her!" he smiled.
"You're married," I chuckled, "that's different."
Am I in love? I don't know- I've never loved romantically before.
I've loved unconditionally, without explaination. That's the way I love Seth right now. Grandly. Deeply. Wholeheartedly.
But the romantic way, the way Mark's talking about? I don't know...that's a love I might have to grow into...which is the best way to grow into love, in my opinion, anyway.
Holy Moses.
--
As of late, it feels like my life's being timed. Time by due dates, assignments FOR those due dates, and considering other obligations (like job hunting).
It makes me tired. I go home and fall asleep without saying goodnight.
--
I had my first college audition on November 5. I wasn't scared or anything, and I don't really know what else to say except that it went better than I thought it would go.
I thought about Mom, and how she kept on talking to me about how excited she was about me being accepted to Ball State. I didn't feel indifferent to the acceptance on purpose.
And I also heard her talk about DePauw. If they gave me a full ride, why don't I just go ahead and go there? And didn't I love it a lot when I went there sophomore year?
It's hard to explain.
Marian's my home. I remember thinking that on the very first day I went to the campus back in March. I remember feeling like I fit. I feel that way every time I go back. If it's money she's concerned about (and I don't care if it is...), then I'll live at home. I'll go home late at night and come back to school early in the morning, so it's not like I'd totally miss out on the college experience.
Do I want to live on campus? Yes, I'd rather do that, living on my own.
But hey. I'm willing to do anything in order to go to the school I want to go to.
--
Now for something completely different.
It's not karma, because it isn't biting me in the butt. But it's rather...a proverbial mirror. I'm now on the other side.
I remember every time Andy Sturm would like me but choose someone else in the end, and the hurt I would feel. The burn in my chest, the sick feeling in my stomach, the confusion buzzing around my head.
The tears. All the tears.
On November 12, I finally got to be in Andy Sturm's shoes.
At least, for this kind of situation.
And now I'd like to address one person.
--
Caleb Tucker, I know you don't want me to say that I broke your heart. But I know I did, just a little bit. And over time, if you'll allow me, I want to help you heal that crack.
We both knew that Seth was going to ask me. And we both knew that I would say yes.
But I know you still felt sad despite your preparing for this. I felt sad for you, because I've been in your shoes before.
I've been where you are right now many times.
Do I not like where I am now? Of course not. I do. I don't regret saying yes and I'm not backing down from it.
But now I realize the desparation Andy Sturm felt every time this happened between him and me.
I hear the sincerity in the plea that he used to say to me, which I am saying to you now: I can't lose you.
You are important. And I recognize that I hold a place of high importance in your life, as well. Please don't think that you're going to take a backseat just because I have a boyfriend. I'm not that kind of friend, that kind of person.
I'm still here. Just as much as I always have been, and always will be.
--
Okay. So you've gathered that November 12 was a rather happy day not just for me or Seth, but for many of our friends. It's almost comical to see everyone elated at the news. What made me smile the most, I think, was when my friend Kirst simply said "Finally."
When I visited Mom and Mark the day after, Mark said to me, "So you're in love."
I paused and looked at him quizzically, not sure if he was joking or not. "Uhm...I don't think so..."
"You're in a relationship? You're not in love? I'm in a relationship with your mother and I'm in love with her!" he smiled.
"You're married," I chuckled, "that's different."
Am I in love? I don't know- I've never loved romantically before.
I've loved unconditionally, without explaination. That's the way I love Seth right now. Grandly. Deeply. Wholeheartedly.
But the romantic way, the way Mark's talking about? I don't know...that's a love I might have to grow into...which is the best way to grow into love, in my opinion, anyway.
Saturday, October 16, 2010
Run And Tell That, Homeboy.
Dear Perry Meridian Drumline -
I just wanted to write a little something to you all. I wasn't one of the loud ones on the line, and I feel like explaining a few things that I couldn't find words for until now.
I didn't join Marching Band because of someone older whom I looked up to, or because a spot was needed, or whatever. I joined mostly because Sascha Simpson was a friend of mine that I lost contact with a few years ago, and I wanted to do a little something in honor of his memory while joining something I've always wanted to try.
My first year in Marching Band, I was playing vibes in the pit. For my senior year, I decided to join the battery.
From the first day I put that drum on my shoulders, I have not regretted it. I'll never forget those June and July practices, the day we practiced outside and it rained off and on with choking humidity in between. All those days that we didn't have a full line. I remember missing Band Camp so that I could be in New Orleans, building a house - and there was a Band Camp going on a block away from the site.
I remember how some practices made me ask myself if I had a place in this line. For the longest time, I felt like I was holding you all back from greatness. A principal violist in the Chamber Orchestra on the drumline? A senior marching for her first - and last - season, just NOW learning the ropes? What could possibly come from that?
Well, the person I am today came from that. I'm not only proud of how I've personally improved and grown as a drummer (you have no idea how much I love calling myself that - just as much as I love calling myself a violist), but I'm so proud of ALL of you. We've all grown from what we've accomplished this season.
Looking at it from a personal view, I will tell you honestly that I was not here for the competitions. I was not here to be the best drummer ever. I was not here to escape anything in my life. I didn't walk into this to find a place to fit in. I didn't join drumline for a lot of reasons. I still don't know half of what you all know about drums and playing them - I always learned from you all, and I learned a lot.
I joined drumline because I wanted to make music, and I wanted to make music that I couldn't possibly play in any other venue.
I ended up marching what has been the best show I've ever seen at Perry in my six years of being on this side of the township.
Could we be better? Yes, there's always room to become better.
But right now, the only thing that I can see holding us back is negativity.
Don't let anybody's bad attitude or bad habits - not even your own towards yourself - get in your brain. It'll only fester and grow if you let it in, and that never helps anybody.
Here's a random epiphany I came to not long ago.
We are a powerful line, concerning personalities. We're loud, we're boisterous, and we're proud of who we're becoming.
That's great that we have that family feel going on, the kind of family that always makes fun of each other and makes a ruckus in public settings.
But never let your ego get in the way of your sticks.
As some of you know, I'm not joining winter. It's not entirely because of money, or needing a job, or people on the line, or disinterest.
I have not lost my passion for drums. I'm marching next year when I go to college, for crying out loud. It's not a loss of interest whatsoever.
It took a while to find words to go with reason.
It's simply due to a feeling of needing to move on, almost.
I had such a time with you all. I loved some of it, I hated some of it. I wouldn't take any of it back for the world.
But it's time for me to focus on other things, learn rudiments for college and whatever instrument they decide to put me on at Marian, and keep up my position as a violist.
I know you all may not understand this. And I know you all may be disappointed in me, a little bit.
But I have faith in you. This drumline has an aura of greatness, an aura of passion. That alone is rare. Every single one of you has it, and you won't lose it.
I'm going to miss being with you every day. I'm going to miss making perverted jokes, Kirsht's fist pumps, Owen's troll face, quoting Pulp Fiction, Chris rapping, Katie calling me a million different names. I'm going to miss you all.
But my place isn't in this winter drumline. My place is on the outside, watching you all perform your hearts out, potentially shedding a tear or two. I'll be there.
In short, I guess all that's left to say is simply thanks.
Thanks for teaching this old senior how things roll. (haha...punz)
You are my family. And I love you all.
-Foxy
I just wanted to write a little something to you all. I wasn't one of the loud ones on the line, and I feel like explaining a few things that I couldn't find words for until now.
I didn't join Marching Band because of someone older whom I looked up to, or because a spot was needed, or whatever. I joined mostly because Sascha Simpson was a friend of mine that I lost contact with a few years ago, and I wanted to do a little something in honor of his memory while joining something I've always wanted to try.
My first year in Marching Band, I was playing vibes in the pit. For my senior year, I decided to join the battery.
From the first day I put that drum on my shoulders, I have not regretted it. I'll never forget those June and July practices, the day we practiced outside and it rained off and on with choking humidity in between. All those days that we didn't have a full line. I remember missing Band Camp so that I could be in New Orleans, building a house - and there was a Band Camp going on a block away from the site.
I remember how some practices made me ask myself if I had a place in this line. For the longest time, I felt like I was holding you all back from greatness. A principal violist in the Chamber Orchestra on the drumline? A senior marching for her first - and last - season, just NOW learning the ropes? What could possibly come from that?
Well, the person I am today came from that. I'm not only proud of how I've personally improved and grown as a drummer (you have no idea how much I love calling myself that - just as much as I love calling myself a violist), but I'm so proud of ALL of you. We've all grown from what we've accomplished this season.
Looking at it from a personal view, I will tell you honestly that I was not here for the competitions. I was not here to be the best drummer ever. I was not here to escape anything in my life. I didn't walk into this to find a place to fit in. I didn't join drumline for a lot of reasons. I still don't know half of what you all know about drums and playing them - I always learned from you all, and I learned a lot.
I joined drumline because I wanted to make music, and I wanted to make music that I couldn't possibly play in any other venue.
I ended up marching what has been the best show I've ever seen at Perry in my six years of being on this side of the township.
Could we be better? Yes, there's always room to become better.
But right now, the only thing that I can see holding us back is negativity.
Don't let anybody's bad attitude or bad habits - not even your own towards yourself - get in your brain. It'll only fester and grow if you let it in, and that never helps anybody.
Here's a random epiphany I came to not long ago.
We are a powerful line, concerning personalities. We're loud, we're boisterous, and we're proud of who we're becoming.
That's great that we have that family feel going on, the kind of family that always makes fun of each other and makes a ruckus in public settings.
But never let your ego get in the way of your sticks.
As some of you know, I'm not joining winter. It's not entirely because of money, or needing a job, or people on the line, or disinterest.
I have not lost my passion for drums. I'm marching next year when I go to college, for crying out loud. It's not a loss of interest whatsoever.
It took a while to find words to go with reason.
It's simply due to a feeling of needing to move on, almost.
I had such a time with you all. I loved some of it, I hated some of it. I wouldn't take any of it back for the world.
But it's time for me to focus on other things, learn rudiments for college and whatever instrument they decide to put me on at Marian, and keep up my position as a violist.
I know you all may not understand this. And I know you all may be disappointed in me, a little bit.
But I have faith in you. This drumline has an aura of greatness, an aura of passion. That alone is rare. Every single one of you has it, and you won't lose it.
I'm going to miss being with you every day. I'm going to miss making perverted jokes, Kirsht's fist pumps, Owen's troll face, quoting Pulp Fiction, Chris rapping, Katie calling me a million different names. I'm going to miss you all.
But my place isn't in this winter drumline. My place is on the outside, watching you all perform your hearts out, potentially shedding a tear or two. I'll be there.
In short, I guess all that's left to say is simply thanks.
Thanks for teaching this old senior how things roll. (haha...punz)
You are my family. And I love you all.
-Foxy
Wednesday, September 29, 2010
Whoof. These Are Thoughtful.
I was Googling "deep questions" the other day in the hopes it would get me thinking about the novel I'm going to write in November.
I found this set. I answered them. And I have an idea for my novel.
Feel free to answer these questions yourself, when/if you have the time or interest. These were really good things to dwell on.
I discovered a lot about my own personal character through these questions. It may be just me, but lately I've seen myself be really crazy, rushed, and hyper (...my band self, really) rather than compassionate and kind and introspective.
But read this. And potentially copy/paste, if you want.
--
1. Why not me?
We're not meant to do absolutely everything well. For example, do I wish I could be more involved in Creative Writing Club? Yes I do. Do I wish I made the FOCUS staff? Yes I do. But I am unable to hold an Editorial position in CWC and am not on the FOCUS staff because I am supposed to be devoting more of my time and energy somewhere else. And my life is soon to be beyond high school (thank GOD)...and who knows what kind of things will happen then?
2. Am I nice?
I like to think I am. But I've heard myself think, and I know for a fact that some of the things I've thought have been anything BUT nice.
3. Am I doing what I really want to do?
Well, I'm making music. I write whenever I'm inspired. I laugh every day. I surround myself with good people. I'm working towards my college education for next year. So I guess I am doing all that I want to do at this point in my life.
4. What am I grateful for?
I am grateful for love and passion, vim and vigor. If I didn't have those two things in my life, I would not be able to appreciate life or have any desire to wake up in the morning.
5. What’s missing in my life?
Self-assurance. I am constantly wondering if I have any place in the lives of the people I hold dearest. I try to tell myself that, even though I may doubt it a lot, I AM loved and valued in my own little ways. And I don't need people to tell me that.
6. Am I honest?
Yes. Especially when I write.
7. Do I listen to others?
Yes. I like to listen to others more than myself, sometimes.
8. Do I work hard?
In some areas of my life.
9. Do I help others?
I try to.
10. What do I need to change about myself?
I need to change my outlook of myself in other people's lives. I have no sense of self-worth, especially at my worst. I always wonder if I've ever impacted another life positively (or negatively). I always wonder what role I could be playing.
11. Have I hurt others?
Yes, I have. And it hurt me.
12. Do I complain?
Not as much as others, because I hate it when people complain. But I do let out a little whine every now and then.
13. What’s next for me?
Currently, some hardcore sleep. But in general...who knows. That's the fun part. :)
14. Do I have fun?
Yes I do. I try, anyway. Life has to be fun.
15. Have I seized opportunities?
Oh yes. Many many opportunities. And I have yet to regret a single one.
16. Do I care about others?
Probably more than what's necessary.
17. Do I spend enough time with my family?
Lately, I have not. And it bothers me. I've been so busy with Marching Band, and after Marching Band I'll be busy with the fall play for a couple of weeks. But after that I look forward to having some down time with them.
18. Am I open-minded?
Probably to the point of being a little obnoxious about it.
19. Have I seen enough of the world?
Not nearly enough. I still have to go to New Zealand and Australia.
20. Do I judge others?
Initially, like everyone else. But I try to look past initial judgments.
21. Do I take risks?
More than some people I know. But not nearly enough. That will soon change.
22. What is my purpose?
I have yet to answer that.
23. What is my biggest fear?
Not living an enthusiastic life.
24. How can I conquer that fear?
Keep on living enthusiastically as much as I can.
25. Do I thank people enough?
I try to thank people a lot. But still I feel like it's never enough.
26. Am I successful?
Relatively speaking. It's still a little early, though, to be asking that.
27. What am I ashamed of?
Being too hard on myself when it isn't necessary.
28. Do I annoy others?
I'm not sure. I probably do, sometimes, to people that I don't know.
29. What are my dreams?
Extremely varied. I've had premonitional dreams, and the weird dream I had last night that made no sense.
30. Am I positive?
Very much so. I try to be sunshine-y and progressive.
31. Am I negative?
Only towards myself, sometimes.
32. Is there an afterlife?
Yep!
33. Does everything happen for a reason?
Yes.
34. What can I do to change the world?
Keep on doing what I do best. And keep my head up with my feet on the ground.
35. What is the most foolish thing I’ve ever done?
Define "foolish"...
36. Am I cheap?
Ehh. Probably. I make all the cards I give to people. Haha!
37. Am I greedy?
I try not to be.
38. Who do I love?
You, whom I have tagged in my FB note. And a few others that were not. And someone I have not met yet, whoever he/she may be.
39. Who do I want to meet?
Someone that likes all aspects of me. Someone that can tolerate my writing.
40. Where do I want to go?
Out into the wild blue yonder.
41. What am I most proud of?
Being true to myself intensely, and I'm proud of all of my friends for some reason or another.
42. Do I care what others think about me?
Everyone does, to a certain extent. I do sometimes, but to be honest, as I've gotten older I've cared less and less.
43. What are my talents?
Love. Music. Writing. Memory. Honesty. Drawing.
44. Do I utilize those talents?
Constantly.
45. What makes me happy?
Everything mentioned in #43. My friends. Family. Exploring. Life.
46. What makes me sad?
Negativity.
47. What makes me angry?
Shallow-mindedness.
48. Am I satisfied with my appearance?
For the most part. I like my unique features.
49. Am I healthy?
Pretty much.
50. What was the toughest time in my life?
Sixth grade, sophomore year as a whole.
51. What was the easiest time in my life?
Fifth grade. That was a pretty cool year.
52. Am I selfish?
I try not to be.
53. What was the craziest thing I did?
Whoof. I don't think I've lived enough to think of that one.
54. What is the craziest thing I want to do?
Shave my head for cancer awareness. Which I am going to do in March. :)
55. Do I procrastinate?
Yes...for some things...
56. What is my greatest regret?
I don't regret things. I learn from them.
57. What has had the greatest impact on my life?
Music has a great impact on my life. Writing does, too. Witnessing the struggles and triumphs of those I love is also something else that makes an impact...that actually correlates with my writing.
58. Who has had the greatest impact on my life?
Thus far, a lot of people have had an impact on my life in some form or another.
Sascha Nolan Simpson, Andy Sturm, Taylor Peters, my mother, Seth Worland, Mr Wall, Miss Sheehan, Ortwein.
And I'm sure there are others that have made little impacts, too.
59. Do I stand up for myself?
If I am being challenged.
60. Have I settled for mediocrity?
I never settle for mediocrity.
61. Do I hold grudges?
No. At least, I try not to.
62. Do I read enough?
No. I remember when I was little, I was that bookworm that read in the car, in restaurants, in church. Now I have so much assigned reading that I hardly have time to read for enjoyment.
63. Do I listen to my heart?
Yes. And my gut.
64. Do I donate enough to the less fortunate?
I don't really donate with money. But I go on trips with Habitat for Humanity - does that count?
65. Do I pray only when I want something?
No - I pray when I'm asked to pray, and when I'm thankful.
66. Do I constantly dwell on the past?
I try not to. My future's more exciting to look at.
67. Do I let other people’s negativity affect me?
I tend to make my friends' problems become my own. I worry about them. But when it comes to general pessimism and all of that...it annoys me, but I try to ignore it.
68. Do I forgive myself?
Not easily. There - I said it.
69. When I help someone do I think “What’s in it for me”?
No.
70. Am I aware that someone always has it worse than me?
Yes. That keeps me in check when I think my life is rough.
71. Do I smile more than I frown?
I try to. I laugh a lot.
72. Do I surround myself with good people?
I believe I said this somewhere in here. And when I say I DO surround myself with good people, I don't mean "obedient" or "novel" people.
These people are imperfect. One has hurt me a lot in the past...I'm still sorry for the most recent complication. One has a (beautiful) daughter. One wants to go off to college with me. One lives in Maryland. One has long hair (for a guy) and wears a different hat every year.
I mean, they're not all honor roll students, they've made mistakes, and they're living life to the best of their ability with a dream in mind, trying to figure out who they are. I love these people with all of my heart. Even if I don't remain this close with each and every one of them in the future, they will forever remain in my memory. And if you know me, you know how good my memory is.
73. Do I take time out for myself?
Not nearly enough.
74. Do I ask enough questions?
No - I only scratch at the surface.
75. What other questions do I have?
Well, let's find out.
I found this set. I answered them. And I have an idea for my novel.
Feel free to answer these questions yourself, when/if you have the time or interest. These were really good things to dwell on.
I discovered a lot about my own personal character through these questions. It may be just me, but lately I've seen myself be really crazy, rushed, and hyper (...my band self, really) rather than compassionate and kind and introspective.
But read this. And potentially copy/paste, if you want.
--
1. Why not me?
We're not meant to do absolutely everything well. For example, do I wish I could be more involved in Creative Writing Club? Yes I do. Do I wish I made the FOCUS staff? Yes I do. But I am unable to hold an Editorial position in CWC and am not on the FOCUS staff because I am supposed to be devoting more of my time and energy somewhere else. And my life is soon to be beyond high school (thank GOD)...and who knows what kind of things will happen then?
2. Am I nice?
I like to think I am. But I've heard myself think, and I know for a fact that some of the things I've thought have been anything BUT nice.
3. Am I doing what I really want to do?
Well, I'm making music. I write whenever I'm inspired. I laugh every day. I surround myself with good people. I'm working towards my college education for next year. So I guess I am doing all that I want to do at this point in my life.
4. What am I grateful for?
I am grateful for love and passion, vim and vigor. If I didn't have those two things in my life, I would not be able to appreciate life or have any desire to wake up in the morning.
5. What’s missing in my life?
Self-assurance. I am constantly wondering if I have any place in the lives of the people I hold dearest. I try to tell myself that, even though I may doubt it a lot, I AM loved and valued in my own little ways. And I don't need people to tell me that.
6. Am I honest?
Yes. Especially when I write.
7. Do I listen to others?
Yes. I like to listen to others more than myself, sometimes.
8. Do I work hard?
In some areas of my life.
9. Do I help others?
I try to.
10. What do I need to change about myself?
I need to change my outlook of myself in other people's lives. I have no sense of self-worth, especially at my worst. I always wonder if I've ever impacted another life positively (or negatively). I always wonder what role I could be playing.
11. Have I hurt others?
Yes, I have. And it hurt me.
12. Do I complain?
Not as much as others, because I hate it when people complain. But I do let out a little whine every now and then.
13. What’s next for me?
Currently, some hardcore sleep. But in general...who knows. That's the fun part. :)
14. Do I have fun?
Yes I do. I try, anyway. Life has to be fun.
15. Have I seized opportunities?
Oh yes. Many many opportunities. And I have yet to regret a single one.
16. Do I care about others?
Probably more than what's necessary.
17. Do I spend enough time with my family?
Lately, I have not. And it bothers me. I've been so busy with Marching Band, and after Marching Band I'll be busy with the fall play for a couple of weeks. But after that I look forward to having some down time with them.
18. Am I open-minded?
Probably to the point of being a little obnoxious about it.
19. Have I seen enough of the world?
Not nearly enough. I still have to go to New Zealand and Australia.
20. Do I judge others?
Initially, like everyone else. But I try to look past initial judgments.
21. Do I take risks?
More than some people I know. But not nearly enough. That will soon change.
22. What is my purpose?
I have yet to answer that.
23. What is my biggest fear?
Not living an enthusiastic life.
24. How can I conquer that fear?
Keep on living enthusiastically as much as I can.
25. Do I thank people enough?
I try to thank people a lot. But still I feel like it's never enough.
26. Am I successful?
Relatively speaking. It's still a little early, though, to be asking that.
27. What am I ashamed of?
Being too hard on myself when it isn't necessary.
28. Do I annoy others?
I'm not sure. I probably do, sometimes, to people that I don't know.
29. What are my dreams?
Extremely varied. I've had premonitional dreams, and the weird dream I had last night that made no sense.
30. Am I positive?
Very much so. I try to be sunshine-y and progressive.
31. Am I negative?
Only towards myself, sometimes.
32. Is there an afterlife?
Yep!
33. Does everything happen for a reason?
Yes.
34. What can I do to change the world?
Keep on doing what I do best. And keep my head up with my feet on the ground.
35. What is the most foolish thing I’ve ever done?
Define "foolish"...
36. Am I cheap?
Ehh. Probably. I make all the cards I give to people. Haha!
37. Am I greedy?
I try not to be.
38. Who do I love?
You, whom I have tagged in my FB note. And a few others that were not. And someone I have not met yet, whoever he/she may be.
39. Who do I want to meet?
Someone that likes all aspects of me. Someone that can tolerate my writing.
40. Where do I want to go?
Out into the wild blue yonder.
41. What am I most proud of?
Being true to myself intensely, and I'm proud of all of my friends for some reason or another.
42. Do I care what others think about me?
Everyone does, to a certain extent. I do sometimes, but to be honest, as I've gotten older I've cared less and less.
43. What are my talents?
Love. Music. Writing. Memory. Honesty. Drawing.
44. Do I utilize those talents?
Constantly.
45. What makes me happy?
Everything mentioned in #43. My friends. Family. Exploring. Life.
46. What makes me sad?
Negativity.
47. What makes me angry?
Shallow-mindedness.
48. Am I satisfied with my appearance?
For the most part. I like my unique features.
49. Am I healthy?
Pretty much.
50. What was the toughest time in my life?
Sixth grade, sophomore year as a whole.
51. What was the easiest time in my life?
Fifth grade. That was a pretty cool year.
52. Am I selfish?
I try not to be.
53. What was the craziest thing I did?
Whoof. I don't think I've lived enough to think of that one.
54. What is the craziest thing I want to do?
Shave my head for cancer awareness. Which I am going to do in March. :)
55. Do I procrastinate?
Yes...for some things...
56. What is my greatest regret?
I don't regret things. I learn from them.
57. What has had the greatest impact on my life?
Music has a great impact on my life. Writing does, too. Witnessing the struggles and triumphs of those I love is also something else that makes an impact...that actually correlates with my writing.
58. Who has had the greatest impact on my life?
Thus far, a lot of people have had an impact on my life in some form or another.
Sascha Nolan Simpson, Andy Sturm, Taylor Peters, my mother, Seth Worland, Mr Wall, Miss Sheehan, Ortwein.
And I'm sure there are others that have made little impacts, too.
59. Do I stand up for myself?
If I am being challenged.
60. Have I settled for mediocrity?
I never settle for mediocrity.
61. Do I hold grudges?
No. At least, I try not to.
62. Do I read enough?
No. I remember when I was little, I was that bookworm that read in the car, in restaurants, in church. Now I have so much assigned reading that I hardly have time to read for enjoyment.
63. Do I listen to my heart?
Yes. And my gut.
64. Do I donate enough to the less fortunate?
I don't really donate with money. But I go on trips with Habitat for Humanity - does that count?
65. Do I pray only when I want something?
No - I pray when I'm asked to pray, and when I'm thankful.
66. Do I constantly dwell on the past?
I try not to. My future's more exciting to look at.
67. Do I let other people’s negativity affect me?
I tend to make my friends' problems become my own. I worry about them. But when it comes to general pessimism and all of that...it annoys me, but I try to ignore it.
68. Do I forgive myself?
Not easily. There - I said it.
69. When I help someone do I think “What’s in it for me”?
No.
70. Am I aware that someone always has it worse than me?
Yes. That keeps me in check when I think my life is rough.
71. Do I smile more than I frown?
I try to. I laugh a lot.
72. Do I surround myself with good people?
I believe I said this somewhere in here. And when I say I DO surround myself with good people, I don't mean "obedient" or "novel" people.
These people are imperfect. One has hurt me a lot in the past...I'm still sorry for the most recent complication. One has a (beautiful) daughter. One wants to go off to college with me. One lives in Maryland. One has long hair (for a guy) and wears a different hat every year.
I mean, they're not all honor roll students, they've made mistakes, and they're living life to the best of their ability with a dream in mind, trying to figure out who they are. I love these people with all of my heart. Even if I don't remain this close with each and every one of them in the future, they will forever remain in my memory. And if you know me, you know how good my memory is.
73. Do I take time out for myself?
Not nearly enough.
74. Do I ask enough questions?
No - I only scratch at the surface.
75. What other questions do I have?
Well, let's find out.
Friday, September 24, 2010
Works of Fiction and Memory.
I never write fiction anymore.
But here's something I came up with. Is it taken from real life? Sure, some of it is. I tried to tweak it some while making a fine balance between fictional and real.
This is going to take some practice.
Andy Sturm wants to write a novel. I've wanted to write a novel for...years. But now I'm inspired to really start on it.
So here's random schtuff that came to me. Here goes nothing. I hope it sparks good things.
--
He didn't know when it started. It might've been the night they were both a little frazzled and jittery (for different reasons), lights dancing off her hair. God, he couldn't take his eyes off her hair.
It might've started a week later, or two weeks. How long has he known her? It feels like they should've met a long time ago.
So why now? Why her? And why wasn't he stopping all that he was feeling deep within his heart's core?
He found himself trusting her with things he hardly shared with anyone. His dysfunctional mother, his phenomenal father, how he truly viewed himself as a person. He noticed how she hardly said a word as they walked, but listened carefully. It seemed like she was taking every word he said and letting them roll around in her heart, experiencing all the pain and triumph word for word.
And here they were now, on her sofa, watching a movie that he couldn't find himself focusing on. His arm had somehow wrapped itself around her, her head now nestled in the crook of his neck. Her hair smelled like sunshine and fresh air.
The world began to fall away. His logic fell away, that part of his mind that says "Wait a minute" at times like this. It disappeared into oblivion. All he knew was his heart (which was beating very fast), and her presence next to him.
This is right.
Her head suddenly turned in his general direction, and his head dipped a little. He could ever-so-faintly feel her lips. The tension was there. It was almost unbearable...the electricity was insane.
He felt her inch closer to him, a little doubtful, testing to see if this was real. A little more, a little closer yet. What was going on? All was focused on the way her lips opened slightly, her head tilting to the side just so...
The few moments following seemed to fit the description of "forever." No - not even that. It was like time simply ceased to function. When her head found its way to the crook of his neck again, he felt logic trying to crawl its way back in.
What the hell? it asked.
Yes, he agreed. What the hell, indeed.
Why did this feel so right? Why did it feel like he had kissed her before? And why was he wishing to do it again?
The world ceased to exist again soon after those thoughts flew. He became one with the air, his mind away but his heart ablaze. With each kiss that trailed down her neck, he became even more lost.
He found himself whispering something to her, and her replying with a voice soft as a breeze. His hand arose to her breast, cupping it gently, every moment like a poem. Upon that initial touch, he considered himself finished. He was gone.
Later, he awoke with his head on her chest. Her heart beat steadily with slumber. Holding her hand in his, he touched the callouses on her fingertips with his thumb. He kissed each callous lightly, so he wouldn't wake her up.
He soon slipped back into sleep, himself, his cheek grazing the soft fabric of her thin sweater. He wanted to memorize the feel of her, in case this never happened again.
--
And it never did happen again.
Only after months of memory-dreams and rearranging her mind throughout the day was she able to let herself reflect upon that day again.
It was quite a feat, really, to be able to remember it all without a trace of negativity. She could not remember anything beyond touch, or the scent of fresh detergent on his shirt that was soft to the touch. If she made herself be perfectly still...and close her eyes...she could recall the energy burning in the eternal seconds before his mouth enfolded hers, testing the waters while still not backing down. She could still feel his hand tracing the outline of her face, holding it close, and the gentle agressiveness of him biting her neck that one time.
It was a relief, to remember it all without crying or feeling a little sick to her stomach. It was so much better to regard it as a happy day rather than a day consumed by "what-ifs" and mixed signals from that day forward (yes...no...someday?).
But she couldn't help but think "what if" sometimes. In fact, "sometimes" didn't suffice. She always wondered "what if."
And she always wondered if he remembered that day...and if he did, was it anything like she remembered it?
But here's something I came up with. Is it taken from real life? Sure, some of it is. I tried to tweak it some while making a fine balance between fictional and real.
This is going to take some practice.
Andy Sturm wants to write a novel. I've wanted to write a novel for...years. But now I'm inspired to really start on it.
So here's random schtuff that came to me. Here goes nothing. I hope it sparks good things.
--
He didn't know when it started. It might've been the night they were both a little frazzled and jittery (for different reasons), lights dancing off her hair. God, he couldn't take his eyes off her hair.
It might've started a week later, or two weeks. How long has he known her? It feels like they should've met a long time ago.
So why now? Why her? And why wasn't he stopping all that he was feeling deep within his heart's core?
He found himself trusting her with things he hardly shared with anyone. His dysfunctional mother, his phenomenal father, how he truly viewed himself as a person. He noticed how she hardly said a word as they walked, but listened carefully. It seemed like she was taking every word he said and letting them roll around in her heart, experiencing all the pain and triumph word for word.
And here they were now, on her sofa, watching a movie that he couldn't find himself focusing on. His arm had somehow wrapped itself around her, her head now nestled in the crook of his neck. Her hair smelled like sunshine and fresh air.
The world began to fall away. His logic fell away, that part of his mind that says "Wait a minute" at times like this. It disappeared into oblivion. All he knew was his heart (which was beating very fast), and her presence next to him.
This is right.
Her head suddenly turned in his general direction, and his head dipped a little. He could ever-so-faintly feel her lips. The tension was there. It was almost unbearable...the electricity was insane.
He felt her inch closer to him, a little doubtful, testing to see if this was real. A little more, a little closer yet. What was going on? All was focused on the way her lips opened slightly, her head tilting to the side just so...
The few moments following seemed to fit the description of "forever." No - not even that. It was like time simply ceased to function. When her head found its way to the crook of his neck again, he felt logic trying to crawl its way back in.
What the hell? it asked.
Yes, he agreed. What the hell, indeed.
Why did this feel so right? Why did it feel like he had kissed her before? And why was he wishing to do it again?
The world ceased to exist again soon after those thoughts flew. He became one with the air, his mind away but his heart ablaze. With each kiss that trailed down her neck, he became even more lost.
He found himself whispering something to her, and her replying with a voice soft as a breeze. His hand arose to her breast, cupping it gently, every moment like a poem. Upon that initial touch, he considered himself finished. He was gone.
Later, he awoke with his head on her chest. Her heart beat steadily with slumber. Holding her hand in his, he touched the callouses on her fingertips with his thumb. He kissed each callous lightly, so he wouldn't wake her up.
He soon slipped back into sleep, himself, his cheek grazing the soft fabric of her thin sweater. He wanted to memorize the feel of her, in case this never happened again.
--
And it never did happen again.
Only after months of memory-dreams and rearranging her mind throughout the day was she able to let herself reflect upon that day again.
It was quite a feat, really, to be able to remember it all without a trace of negativity. She could not remember anything beyond touch, or the scent of fresh detergent on his shirt that was soft to the touch. If she made herself be perfectly still...and close her eyes...she could recall the energy burning in the eternal seconds before his mouth enfolded hers, testing the waters while still not backing down. She could still feel his hand tracing the outline of her face, holding it close, and the gentle agressiveness of him biting her neck that one time.
It was a relief, to remember it all without crying or feeling a little sick to her stomach. It was so much better to regard it as a happy day rather than a day consumed by "what-ifs" and mixed signals from that day forward (yes...no...someday?).
But she couldn't help but think "what if" sometimes. In fact, "sometimes" didn't suffice. She always wondered "what if."
And she always wondered if he remembered that day...and if he did, was it anything like she remembered it?
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