When you leave comfort behind. . .

There are 15 minutes left in 2006 for me.
I'm oddly sad. But, again, I get sentimental about these things.
My resolutions. Well, I haven't really thought about them. Because they're the same as they were last year. Although, they were very vague and some of them rather immature.

I want happiness. I want friendship. I want honesty. I want love. I want good luck. I want to be myself.

I hope to be more outgoing this year. And less reserved. I'd like to finish some of my homework too.

Please. Please. Please. Let 2007 be as wonderful as 2006.

I'll miss you last year.

A message from the past

It's 2007 for some of the rest of the world. I suppose a Happy New Year is in order. I know I promised different posts but, it's time for the present and future. I'll visit the past tomorrow.

I feel oddly serene. And rather uneasy.

Well, this isn't really how I want to start a new year. I have lost my voice. I have a cold. My room is a mess and I have work hanging over my head. I hope this doesn't symbolize (I'm about to get very metaphorical) that this year I will have a heard time being heard, my opinions will be over-looked, I will always be swamped and trapped in a fog. But, that would be silly. I would just have to get over that.

You know, it's funny. I start these blogs feeling one way and it takes me so long to finish them, because I'm always doing something else, that by the end, I feel another way.
I have a friend who is coming to rescue me from my lonely state. We're going to eat and write a script for my movie. Yes, this means I will have homework to do tomorrow and I probably won't finish it even then, her coming over does give me motivation to clean my room! That's an accomplishment. The two of us have spent a lot of News Years together.
I think this is a good sign.

Happy New Year, world. I hope for peace and unity. Good luck in everything you do.

I'll probably be back latter tonight with another post about resolutions or something. But, if not, I'll see you next year!

I'm leaving on a jet plane. .

I'm in a new city. Well, an old familiar city really. But, it's Christmas and I'm staying in St. Louis with my family.

I haven't been able to get internet access anywhere but near the window of my new bedroom while standing on one foot and jumping up and down. So, I thought I'd post one goodbye-for-the-moment post as to not leave anyone hanging.

When I return you can look forward to posts on, but not limited to, the following subjects:

*The closing of the show that had been eating up my life.

*My ex-boyfriend who is newly gay with a very good friend on mine.

*A full analysis of my extended family including entertaining stories and pictures of the celebrities they most closely resemble. Very closely.

*A dedicated account of the very long three days I will spend in hick country Ozark-land MO. I will take copious notes and try to recount all entertaining quotes.

*My Christmas and the surrounding parties

I hope you all have a wonderful holiday. May you have good health and all of your most fantastic dreams become a reality.

Things I NEED to say.

Screw my mom.
Screw the fact that I am deliberately not doing my Scarlet Letter essay.

I have something to say:

I am going to the college I want to. I won't say what that school is because you'll think I want to go there for reasons other then the true ones. I need to go to this school because it's in the city I need to be in and I can't think of any other way to get there. I need to go there. I need to make the connections that will follow in a hopeful career. In fact, I've already sort of started to make slight connections that I can't throw away.
Yes, it's true I don't want to be a doctor. Yes, it's a lot of money. But, I already regret not doing too many things in my life so this is one decision that I'm promising myself I won't look back on a regret. Regret hurts more then any emotion I've ever known. And it leaves a deep scar.

Mom:
You are so much better then the person you used to be. You and I have come so far from the years of pointless arguments and abuse. The days of running away, your ridiculous outbursts, when you would hit me and throw me to the floor. So far from the bitter letters and the sob filled make-up hugs. You are a different person. But, I am too. Please, start taking me seriously before I lose respect for you again.
I never asked you for help in paying for college. I always hoped you would but I've never expressed the need for it. I'm going to stop telling you about the things that go on in my life if you stop supporting me. Please stop being so dramatic. Also, please stop joking about you and dad's marital situation. It's not funny and just because I don't express it, I'm upset that you would mention it again. You love him and there are bigger things in life then my wanting to go to college to spilt you two up. There are bigger things in the world then you. Look at the big picture.

For once, I want you to be the one to come to me asking for forgiveness.
I only want your support. And if you're not going to offer it- if you are going to judge me- then I'll be leaving a lot sooner then you hope.

You think I'm not serious.

I still love you.

More on this later. . .

My mother just basically told me that I can't go to the college that I want to and that am I indirectly responsible for the fact that she and my father might be splitting up.

I'll give you Christmas cheer tomorrow

I have a little Christmas tree of my own for the space in front of my window. It's perfect for years like this one when my Christmas celebrations are not going to be up to the standards I'm used to. They'll still be warm and comfortable and happy, but different. Anyway, inside of the box that houses my little tree, I leave myself notes from the Christmas before.

I suppose I'm a sentimental freak.

Every Christmas card I've received from the time I first got the tree, I've stuffed into that box. I make an event of reading all of them as I decorate my tree. I like my little memoriam. I leave myself notes. And left over gifts from the year before. The thing is though, I always remember what I've left myself instead of it being a little surprise like I hope.
There is something else I put on my tree. It's an odd tradition I started last year.

I have little glass ornaments and inside I put the names of the people I'm missing. Or ones belong to the dead.
I want to dedicate something to them. Most of the names are relatives or friends in college, but there are some names where I didn't know the people they once belonged to. In fact, I can think of some of the additions I'm making this year and I don't personally know some of them.
Perhaps this is odd.
But I want to look at that tree and know that those people have a place where they are remembered at Christmas. I know that their families are hurting. I'm sure for them, the cold of December and the merry songs of Christmas are like salt in the wounds of mourning. But, I remembering the happy pieces of their stories.

Anyway, on to some less creepy aspects of my personality.

I'm going through what is always one of the busiest parts of my years. It's my fault. I know it's coming but I never prepare properly.
Opening night is on Friday. I want to be excited. I am excited. But, the school work that's been dumped on top of me is a bit of a damper on mspiritit. I'm worried. I've lost all of my drive. I don't want to spend time with most of my friends. I don't, certainly don't, want to go to school. I enjoy adult's company the most.

I was assigned an essay today. It's due Wednesday and I don't have any time to do it.

Whenever my family says I need to simplify my life, a piece of me breaks off inside. I don't want to be ruled by grades and conquered by sleep. In order for my future to go the places I hope it goes I need this theatre experience. Screw the fact that I get 4 hours of sleep on a good night. Screw the 10 hour school days followed by the 5 hour nights at the theatre. I'm lucky to get the opportunity to work such hours.
College better recognize how dedicated I am.
Please, don't let these premature wrinkles and over-cautious, responsible attitude go to waste.

Please. I want to be an actress.

If You've got it, Flaunt it. . .

. . .The Producers. Which is a musical I am very sick of. I've seen it in this country and in London.

But, that is not the point. I should write more blogs on the spot and post them. That last entry started out as what I hoped to be an angry rant. But, turned out very, as ironic as this is; nicely. He called. iTunes was all knowing. And creepy. It was nice.

We talked about the dance. I apologized. He disregarded it. He brought up how no one complimented his outfit. I thought he looked great. From the moment I saw him in his all black suit, I thought he looked great. He's an attractive person. And he is friends with a lot of people I like. And, he's sweet. And gets along with everyone, even strangers. Yet, I feel like he's an every girl's guy. I'm nothing special. Which, is fine. Because, at the moment, and I'm hesitant to put 'at the moment' because it implies I think something will happen and our friend situation will change, still, at the moment we are just friends. And he can be with whoever he wants.

Oh, Camelot's playing again. If I Ever were to Leave you. I really love this musical. Look it up.

I told him I thought he looked great tonight. I almost wished he would have said something back. But, I wasn't even wearing a dress so I understand why he didn't compliment my simple purple top. Even though it was from Top Shop in London. I didn't feel very pretty. I wish I had been wearing a dress.

But, we had a great conversation. I like him.
I like him a lot.
But, that makes me nervous.
How can I be so picky?

Sending Signs from the Speakers. . .

The speakers mock me. I'm sitting in my room. Eating a sandwich. Alone.

Songs from Keaton's Cd are playing. Ironic. I thought about him a lot tonight. At the dance. The winter formal. I didn't want to go.

Gah! Camelot is playing. Damn iTunes party shuffle. Every song that just played describes my life with an uncanny resemblance. Lets examine this:


Blue Comb '78: FIF *You must hear the beginning of the live version. It sums up what I didn't do tonight. I feel awful. But he stayed with me the whole night even thought I was a total wet blanket. He's an amazing guy.*
You Really got a Hold on me: The Beatles *This is what I wanted every time anyone asked me to dance and I said no.*
How to Handle a Women: Camelot *Not only does this song make me remember so many happy times, it's so beautiful and it makes me hurt inside all at once. I was with Keaton at the time. It was confusing but Camelot was a wonderful day
How Could I ever Know: The Secret Garden. . .

.....I'll get right back to list in one second Something's happening. The boy is calling. This night might be okay after all.

Oddly, my all-knowing iTunes is now playing Everything is Alright by Motion City Soundtrack.