Stupid Ideas.

There's this event on facebook called "Most Beautiful Teen Contest" and I think it's one of the stupidest things I've ever heard of.
Teenage boys and girls are supposed to take a picture of them self and post it on the wall, and the person with the most likes by March 31st wins.
I'd think it's stupid either way, but what really annoys me is that no one's liking anyone's pictures.
They're just making rude comments and calling people ugly.
When did this all matter so much?
I guess maybe it annoys me that I have such self-esteem issues, because I really want to be a roll model and not care quite so much about what others view me as.
I guess life is more about growing into your own skin then I thought it was?
I guess, in  a way, I'm not one to speak either?
I can say that I wish I could like all those pictures, because I truly believe everyone is beautiful in their own way, and that's something I've always known, but just learned.

Nothing was left for you & me.

It sucks to not get what you want.

It was kind of like a dream had come true, not because I'm head over heels in love with the guy, but because I knew it would be a great night and live up to those prom expectations everybody sets, but the assistant principal made sure that didn't happen.

HE'S NOT EVEN 21 YET!

& HE DOESN'T DRINK!

Man, screw prom.

For Philip.

Have you ever met someone and just felt like they could be your best friend in a matter of minutes?

That's how I felt about Philip Hamel.

He's the first person I met at Washington and he was the one who convinced me to do drama. I was just gonna plan on being a choir kid.

He introduced me to all his girlfriends and I'm pretty sure for a time there, we had an inside joke that he was Papa Philip, because I remember telling his girlfriend she had to think of me as a daughter. Nothing was ever awkward with Philip Hamel around.

I wish you the best in your marriage, my friend.

Thanks for being such a great friend, and giving awesome hugs.

Nothing but Blue Skies.

For some reason, I remember a lot about my freshmen year.

Like, I remember looking with awe upon the classic senior drama boys, who really set the stage, and demanded peoples attentions.

I also remember thinking they were all idiots and jerks, because they all started smoking the minute they turned 18 and got high all the time, and preyed upon freshmen girls, with the exception of one of them.

I'm happy to say he's my prom date.

You know, the cute one that bags groceries at Market Place?

Yeah, him.

Everybody's Falling In Love.

Okay, well I guess not everybody.

But, my grandma,

and the brothers I like to hang out with,

and one of my good friends with a boy who lives over 3,5000 miles away.

I know I should be happy for them, but let's be real.

I'm jealous.

The importance of being someone else.

There is nothing I love as much as theatre, and in the WHS theatre, I've done more growing than anywhere else.
My first play was A Midsummer Night's Dream, where I replaced another girl a week before the show, which made a lot of people angry, but I learned my lines within a day, and I fell in love.
And not with that ever wonderful Brian fellow I once knew.
Or the incredibly attractive Evan.
But with theatre.
With Fineman and the way she worked, and the cast, and the set, and the giant tree trunk, and the man make-up I had to put on every night.
I loved all of it.
Then, it was over.

Then, the next season came around, and I grew to hate theatre, because it turned into drama that didn't just take place on the stage, but in the seats and backstage. I really didn't like the people I was surrounded by and for the first time ever, in my life, I was actually depressed.

Then, the spring play came and I got a lead part. It was difficult at times and there were still a lot of people I had no respect for, but I didn't have to be Casey. I could be Penelope Sycamore and I could deal with these people. Not to mention Charles Chittim would dance with me backstage right before I went on and would speak in this great Italian accent that took all the nerves away.
And then there was getting to know Charles Wallace. He was probably one of the biggest goof balls in the cast, but he was fantastic, and I will never ever forget the crush I had on him or his dedication to drama. Like when he walked to the whs theatre from downtown Tacoma in the rain. And I don't want to forget Tyrone who held my hand every night. Or Doug, who bailed the night before the show, which sent the whole cast into panic mode. I'm happy he came back.

Then, I gave up theatre for a semester. I didn't like the people in the class or the things they were doing, or the things they convinced my once best friend to partake in. I was sick of all of it. My grandpa died a few days before the start of junior year, and I needed theatre. I needed to lose myself in someone else, and to laugh like only drama kids can make me, but I was running from love and everything else.

Next semester, I knew I needed to go back, and it was a new group, but a lot of the same issues remained. The Yellow Boat had its rough patches, but I loved playing the mother of a dying child, and being in love with an incredible husband, even if he did give the most awkward hugs. (hahaha, Daphne.)

Then, there's this year. I have no complaints. Antigone was practically flawless, and the class has no divas. If people party, they keep it to themselves and don't go around bragging about it. No one cheats on their boyfriend/girlfriend backstage. For the first time, I am in love with no exceptions.
And now, I'm preparing to leave. I know I'll miss a lot of things about Washington High School, but I won't miss anything as much as I will miss the theatre.

I've really just made a home there, full of incredible people, and a great Momma Fineman that watches over and guides all of us, and listens to us rant and rave about boys(me at least) and I'm really, really going to miss it and all of you.

Who's ready for Annie?

Loving Me.

I was venting to Micah about not feeling good enough about myself and being so self-critical, and he told me to write a blog about liking myself, so I'm trying that.

I feel like it's strange and slightly egotistical, but here I go.

I like my hair, because I've never died it, but it still has natural highlights. I hope it stays blond a while.

I like my eyes. I'm not exactly sure what color they are. Like, remember that one time we broke off into groups of those that have blue eyes and those that don't? Yeah, I've never thought I had blue eyes, but I went with it.

I (sometimes) like being tall. I can reach things on high shelves and can easily stick my feet out from under the blanket if I get too hot on warm nights.

I like my sense of humor, and cheesiness.

It's getting kind of strange to say I like all these things about myself. Maybe this just means we should tell each other what we like about each other more?

Yeah, maybe we should try that.

Leave me something to remember you by.

If you'll be my star
I'll be your sky
You can hide underneath me and come out at night
When I turn jet black and you show off your light
I live to let you shine
I live to let you shine

And you can sky-rocket away from me
And never come back if you find another galaxy
Far from here with more room to fly
Just leave me your stardust to remember you by

If you be my boat
I'll be your sea
The depth of pure blue just to probe curiosity
Ebbing and flowing and pushed by a breeze
I live to make you free
I live to make you free
But you can set sail to the west if you want to
And past the horizon till I can't even see you
Far from here where the beaches are wide
Just leave me your wake to remember you by

If you'll be my star
I'll be your sky
You can hide underneath me and come out at night
When I turn jet black and you show off your light
I live to let you shine
I live to let you shine

But you can sky-rocket away from me
And never come back if you find another galaxy
Far from here with more room to fly
Just leave me your stardust to remember you by
Stardust to remember you by

The Ice is Getting Thinner.

It's nice to be cradled in someone's arms when your eyes can't stop themselves from watering.

Thanks IanaMae.

I can't form sentences to say how I'm feeling.

How much pain can one experience in the short timeframe of a year?

It's like actors are just bound to experience difficulty.. Either they get hit by cars, or trains, or. or. can't pull their crap together enough to love someone with all their heart. Or can't look in the mirror and say "wow, I look good today." Or, right when happiness comes, someone swoops in and snatches it up, with the uttering of words like cancer.

It's just not fair.

What I want.

1. I want you to fall in love with someone, and be happy. I don't want you to go out partying on the weekend and cry yourself to sleep.

2. I want you to feel that you're beautiful, because you are. You really really are.

3. I want you to win. I think you put up enough of a fight to emerge the victor.

4. I want you to pursue your dream.

5. I want to know what I'm doing with my life. I want to not give in to the persuasion of this stupid one night event and make all these huge changes to myself that no one will care about anyway. I want to feel okay being who I am and having the flaws that I have.

I guess I want a lot, don't I?

Hey, remember that time?

Do you remember that time I could be myself around you?

Yeah, the days were few, but I was enjoying them.

I was enjoying being comfortable with me.

But, I did what I was scared to do and I might have done it in the stupidest way possible(Thanks for going with it Brenna), but I did it. That has to count for something.

I probably should have left the matter alone, but I just didn't want to.

So, my awkward days are not behind me.

I was dumping all my problems on one of my favorite teachers and he told me that Prom will not be the highlight of my life, and I agree. There are much more exciting things coming for me, and Prom would be made super uncomfortable if I went with someone who I can't even hold a decent conversation with.

So, my plans for tonight are to go to the Powder Puff game, cheer my butt off for the girls, and then to hit up Denny's afterward. I won't think about this wonderful experience again for a while. I could say maybe one day I'll be able to laugh at myself, but I already am.

And sometimes, I don't mind being awkward if it involves being bold and taking a risk.

I'm learning a lot about myself and the world. Can you tell?

“When everything seems to fall apart, remember that leaves may fall before winter but that does not mean the trees are breaking inside, it is just a way to mold and hone them as they become ready for another season of their life.”

Not Enchanted, but Happy.

There's this thing on my fridge that says "Today, I'm feeling" and then lists all these different emotions. Every morning, when I pull creamer out to pour in my coffee, I change my emotion for the day. Yesterday was an emotion that barely ever gets picked, but today was happy, which is what it usually is.

I woke up this morning feeling well rested, and the first thing my mind went to was what consumed it yesterday. Today, I realized just how bogus the whole thing is.

I'm still going to say something, but I just care a whole lot less.

I like being happy.

Another lesson on growing up.

If you're feeling a little bit bummed, don't tell everyone about it.

Sometimes, people do this crazy thing called listen to you.

And sometimes, they want you to win the boy. Just this once.

Oh, and if you're going to discuss it with people, you should probably look around and make sure the area is rascal-free.

That's what I learned today.

I will get the guts to do this.

I read this quote today:

“Most of us won't see one another after graduation, and even if we do it will be different. We'll be different. We'll be adults--cured, tagged and labeled and paired and identified and placed neatly on our life path, perfectly round marbles set to roll down even, well-defined slopes.”

-Lauren Oliver

I didn't like it or the way it made me feel. I don't want things to be cut and dry like this.

I don't want to be cured, tagged, labeled, paired, identified, and placed neatly on my life path.

I guess this is one of those great opportunities that life presents;

To not only make a fool of myself, but to do something that scares me.

Here's to Senior Year.

If this blows up in my face, it'll all be behind me in 3 months.

Nothing else will do.

I've gotta have you.

I feel like I need to write this blog for the purpose of sanity, and to say all those stupid things that people just don't understand, but make it aloof enough so that no one knows what I'm talking about.

But tonight, I'm just not feeling it.

Tonight, you are not allowed in my heart or my head.

Here's one story that I'd like to tell.

One time, after a play, the whole cast went to McDonald's, including this one guy who I had liked for about a year and a half at this point, but he had a girlfriend, so it seemed pretty hopeless. Any who, a friend of mine, at the time, who I had gushed to multiple times about my feelings for this boy, took it upon herself to tell previously mentioned boy about my crush. That was an awkward moment, and for some reason, it's one I still remember.

I read in a book today that women have the ability to remember what they want to remember and forget what they don't, but I have to disagree with Mrs. Hurston.

I decided to let you into my head, but my heart is under wraps for now.

How does it end?

These feelings that won't go away.

I wish I could stay.

Wait around forever, until you see.

That you and me,

Well, we are....

NOT meant to be.

It'd be a huge fat fail.

I'd hate you after a week.

Not to mention, you'd probably cheat.

So screw poetry, because these feelings aren't real.

They are all based off your visual appeal.

Let these next few months come and go.

And when June comes, I'll know.

I'll know.

I'm not the next Norther Winslow.

How I got to where I am.

You see the smile that's on my mouth?

It's hiding the words that won't come out.

And all of my friends who think that I'm blessed
They don't know my head is a mess
No, they don't know who I really am
And they don't know what
I've been through like you do
And I was made for you...

 

These stories don't mean anything when you've got no one to tell them to.

It's true.

I was made for you.

I just really like this song.

He's All Yours.

Even the ones who've got it all figured out...

Don't.