No regrets.

This weekend I was in Southern California visiting my grandmother, who is in the hospital. She's dying. And I mean, dying dying. She's been dying for the past 4 years, but now its pretty final. She's in a comatose state, but seizing constantly-twitching. She's unresponsive. So, as my family went to the mortuary to make funeral arrangements, the man we were working with, his name was Robin Christopherson, asked us who my grandmother was. As it turns out, I didn't know everything about her. I knew she loved to sing, but what I didn't know was that she was an opera singer. She had a beautiful voice. She was on the cover of Look Magazine for the Top 10 Young Singers to Watch Out For. She was going to be famous and live the luxurious life she always dreamed. And then she met my grandfather, the minister. She willingly threw away her dreams of becoming famous and wealthy and a star, and traded them in for being a housewife and, later, a mother. She loved my grandfather so much, she would get rid of her life as she knew it, and start a new one with him. That's either the purest form of dedication or the purest form of silliness... SO this all made me think: what do I want to do with my life?? And I've decided: I am making a BUCKET LIST. Because I can help but think that if I were in my grandmother's shoes, I might have regretted choosing to completely abandon my hopes and dreams. And as she lays on her deathbed, I cannot help but pity her. Its like I'm looking into my possible future. So I want to get everything in. No regrets.

Bucket List

(I'll be progressively adding things on.)

1. Go on an archaeological dig.

2. Go skydiving.

3. Take an art class.

4. Take a photography class.

*On a side note, I finished my book! The Last Time They Met is absolutely fabulous. I highly recommend it, especially if you like romances and drama (but not the cheesy kind. The real kind). It'll have you hooked right until the very end, and then it will punch you straight in the gut. Or maybe that was just me...

Nothing much!

I'm almost done with my book! Its good. Sad. Romantic. And seemingly full of lust and love. But its very well written. It starts when these two people meet again after some 20 or so years (they're 50 something...) and then it works backwards, describing their lives (separately and together.) Its been really good so far and I have only about 100 (probably less!) pages to go. I'm so excited!!! I feel so accomplished. :) And I read fast, so that's a plus. hehe

Meanwhile, I'm procrastinating like a good little IB student. Ciao for now! I have to go get some caffeine. This will be a long night...

Resolution!

New Year resolutions. I never make any. Why? Well, I don't rightly know. (Perhaps, I'm subconsciously afraid of failing them and then therefor myself?) But, I've decided to make a slightly belated, but never the less fabulous, New Year resolution. And that would be *drum roll please*...

To read more!

God, I love to read. Its so important to me. It lights me up. I love opening my heart and mind to the words on the page. I love putting myself in the character's shoes, I love being inspired, I love being awed, I just love reading. And dammit, I'm going to do more of it! The books don't even have to be giant, huge, critically acclaimed novels that win a gazillion literary awards. As long as I'm reading, I'm happy.

Currently reading:

The Last Time They Met by: Anita Shreve

So far, so good!

Recant!

You know what?! I'm pathetic. Screw what I previously said. Psh, nah! I love dance. And if dance makes me happy, then I'm happy. And damn it, I will perform the parts that I do have to the very best of my ability. And ya know what? That's life. And I'm living. That's all I could possibly ask for.

Another Day in the Neighborhood.

Today was a bad dance day. The rest of casting was put up, and guess what? I'm actually in the ballet. Shocker, right. Yeah I know. I'm in four pieces and for that I am grateful. Its just... Frankly, I feel like shit. For five hours straight I just wanted to scream my head off in exasperation. Its not that I'm butt hurt because I wasn't cast in anything actually impressive or important, because I know I don't deserve it. But that's just it. It has finally come to light that I don't deserve good parts because I'm not good enough. And that's what truly sucks: them finally realizing what I've always known: I'm just not good enough.

And it makes me want to break down and cry.

"Happy Birthday?" The Post Never Posted.

Wow. Its my birthday? When did that happen? Wait, are you sure? Because I dont feel any older... Today I turned an unresounding seventeen. I know I should be excited, and I am! Dont get me wrong or anything. Its just. I dunno. I guess its just anticlimactic. I wasnt expecting fireworks or anything of the sort. Its just... I cant place it. I suppose I'm just unsatissfied with things at the moment. But hey, thats life. And today, I'm celebrating it.

So some girlfriends are coming over to spend the night around nine. It will be good! Its just that I'm not as close with them as I'd wish I was. We've kind of drifted apart a bit. Actually, we were always apart. I consistantly had dance, and they had each other. So naturally, I'd be the fourth

February 19, 2011. This is the letter never sent; the post never posted. I found it in a cyber pile of drafts. Nothing much has changed.

Except I can see R-rated movies now without lying and sneaking in to the theaters! woot.

The norm...

School is school. Whenever people ask me "How was school?", I always find myself replying "...educational." because that's basically all I get out of it. As my social life dwindles to the tiniest of figures, I realize that I don't care. I've got what I need in my life, and that's all I'm concerned about. I cant wait until I graduate so I can just stop fussing and worrying about all this pointless crap that will fall off our shoulders the second we step on that stage to graduate. And when I do, I'm never looking back.

Too bad that isn't for another year and an effing half...

*However, I had a wonderful day in Psychology class, as usual. Psych peeps! You know who you are!!

Speaking of nothing, dance is my best friend and my worst enemy. God, I cant even imagine the words to describe the passion and love and hate I have for dance. Dance is the only thing that matters to me; it will always be my number one priority. But its times like these when I realize just how much I kind of hate myself. Really. Dance, or specifically ballet, is quite possibly the absolute worst thing for me. I have the self esteem of a dirt worm. No, I have the self esteem of dirt itself. So being thrust in front of a mirror lined room, constantly staring at my own inadequacies of the body and the art form I hold so dearly to my heart, but cant quite manage to perfect, hurts more than one could dream. I'm so afraid I wont be able to dance as a profession for the rest of my days as a dancer. I'm terrified what I'll do with myself. I mean, think about it. I've made no real connections. I'm not the most intelligent. My grades are no where near superior. I'm a genetic dead end... I just want to be happy in my life, today and the day that follows. And the only option I can think of to obtain such happiness is through dance. And if I suck, well. Than that doesn't leave me many option.

Occupation/Lifelong career goals:

(in no particular order, except number one)

1. Professional dancer
2. English something (major, teacher, writer...)
3. Photographer
4. Archaeologist

Feasible? Who knows...

And to top it all off, I had a migraine today. Joy.

Hopefully, my tomorrow will be better. I mean, heck, it is my birthday after all...!

Brand New

So, I have previously maintained a blog. I haven't really written anything of value for quite some time, and what I had written had been pretty petty, even so. It was all drastically depressing and although introspective, perhaps a wee bit too melancholy. Thus, I've decided to turn a new leaf in the blogging community and voila! here it is. I am brand new.