Naturally

   So naturally I'm myself, right? What if I don't know who myself is yet? I know who I want to be and I know who other people think I am, but I'm not either of those things yet.
   I am pretty. I see it sometimes after a run when I feel so sweaty and gross and I walk in the front door and I don't look half bad. I see it sometimes when I've spent forty minutes getting ready only to wash all the make-up off and try over again just to realize it looked better the first time round.
   I am smart. I know I am. It becomes blatantly obvious when I get one hundred percent on a test that I didn't study for, and didn't do the homework for the unit. I can't deny it when someone asks me for help in math or chemistry and I can without hardly thinking. I realize it when I can give great feedback in class while my nose is buried in my book.
   I am great with people. I know I get crabby and unpleasant, but even on those days I can't walk down the halls without being stopped every fifteen feet. No wonder I'm so often late to class. Another thing, my teachers don't count me tardy because I'm a favorite student, despite the fact that I don't put maximum effort in (A.K.A. I fail their class for most of the term and still manage to at least get a C based on tests.)
   I can dance. I know I never acknowledge it, but my dancing is the thing that brings me most joy. I want to learn most disparately but I don't have the money or time. I love it when someone says I'm good, not gonna lie, but I never agree because even though I love it with my whole soul, I'm not very good. I'm slightly above average (if even that) but I am not anywhere close to being 'good'.

Maybe my blog needs a name change

   Before I start, some cautions: I know I need to be myself and no one else. I know I should live life for me. I know that my choices are my own and not anyone else's. 

   Now to start:

   I wish I was as friendly and positive as my oldest sister. I wish I was as pretty and smart and spiritual and tall as my second oldest sister. I wish I was as strong and sure and useful and beautiful and sincere as my third oldest sister. I wish I had as good of grades as my little sister. I wish I was as funny as my two oldest brothers, I also wish I knew how to work on cars and houses as well as they do. I wish I could be all of them combined. Don't get me wrong, none of them are perfect, but the way my mom lays into me every time I 'highly disappoint' her, you'd think they were all angels not yet passed through the veil for the first time. I wish I could be the perfect daughter, sister, and friend.I wish I didn't feel like dirt every time I talk to my mom. I wish I could be everything everyone else wants me to be. I wish I could be my mom's angel not every 'disappointing' her again. I know what my counselor would say, "Your life is not your mother's life, only you can control it."

   See the thing is, I want to dance, more than anything in the world. After 'talking' with my mom yesterday, I was pulled out of my ballroom class. I was told to limit social time to when I need help on homework. I never need help on homework. If I don't know how to do it, chances are no one else got how to do it either. I'm not bragging, but I get things a lot easier than most people. I'm the one most of my peers go to for help. 

   I wish I was someone else. Someone perfect. I'm sorry mom.

So....Ungrounded

I AM UN-GROUNDED!!!!!!!!!!!! MOVIE NIGHT TONIGHT!!!!!!! I'm so excited! Can't wait for date night tomorrow! :D

Unsaid Words

So I adore working with Gerber everyday. I LOVE the drama chickens. I have gained a great friend in Tenika thanks to Journalism, the drama chickens, and dropping out of AP chem together (Finals are next week and then I never have to try to warp my brain into separate universes at light speed to understand the topics brought up by those around me.) and I'm so glad to know her. Life is crazy, but I can laugh at it all and smile.

I really miss Michael, but am grateful every time I get to see him (I'm ungrounded end of next week by the way.) and can I just say that I love feeling comfortable with myself around him. I don't have to use small words (or define any words), I don't have to hold in my emotions around him for fear of him trying to run into semi's later, and I don't have to stress about being perfect every second of every minute I'm around him. (though admittedly we only get to see each other twice a week, for minutes at a time...did I mention I'm excited to be ungrounded?)

I love "The Hairnet", and I'm soo glad that it doesn't have to be reviewed by the Board of Directors. Gerber I'm working on a teen pregnancy piece, will it come before or after the 'Horrorscopes'? Also, I love the mock-ups of dearblankpleaseblank that Tenika and I wrote.

I am seriously considering starting private ballroom lessons, but don't have a partner. I would like to ask one or two of the guys from ballroom, but private lessons are expensive. I just don't feel like I'm progressing at all in our 'class' after school. It was supposed to be a team, with at least one coach who could teach cabaret, but there isn't. We haven't moved beyond basic steps all term because we've been reteaching the basics every single class, but without fail someone wasn't paying attention, or wasn't there the day before, so we start all over again. I dance because I feel so in sync with myself, my partner, and those who's problems are rolling around in my head. I feel like I'm more than whole, like I'm graceful and even a little beautiful. I can't feel that way if most of the class is spent on steps I learned four years ago. I love when Mr. Call comes and actually dances with the girls because I can feel in sync doing anything, any step, and mistake even. That's what it's about, it's about feeling right deep down to your core (though sometimes it's hard to feel that right and/or whole in your core when you can't feel your core after the first warm-up stretches.)

Maybe I will progress in ballroom and be able to compete internationally, but right now I'd settle for being able to compete at all. Actually, I'd settle for being able to feel the rightness of dance everyday.

The unconscious brain provides us with about four hundred words per second to say. Those words go through the filter between our conscious and unconscious minds. We never use all those words, ever. Those words we don't use that our brains have supplied up with, translates into our bodies. A lot of it translates into body language. Did you know that your body language can tell you where you store all those extra words? Well it can, and does. People that are really animated and use their hands to speak, will aways have a base position or motion. That tells you the place, or places, that bother that person the most with their body, aka the place they store their unsaid words. This can often translate into physical pain. My mom thinks that's part of why I've felt so sick. She wanted me to write something every week to help with letting the words out safely. That's how this post started I guess. The unsaid words wanted to be heard.

Also, Greg should stop trying to avoid Amanda. He's not tactful in the least. For now I say, 'Farewell.'

Today

What's your definition of a kiss? Just wondering.

Life is like a swiftly tilting planet, and the milkyway comes from the cow who jumped over the moon.

"Dear Mother,

 

"On purpose?" is not an appropriate response when I tell you I went jogging.

 

Sincerely, no, I was being chased by gophers."

 

I thought that was funny, thanks dearblankpleaseblank.com!

I know I'm not alone, but seriously?!?

So, I had a REALLY BAD day yesterday... I don't know why really. I just am so stressed over my AP classes that I'm kinda just shutting down. My body is on strike again. It's sending shooting pains through my arms (like fingertips up into the base of my neck) and also in my leg. Caffeine makes my head feel fuzzy and funny, and not in a good way. I had some for the first time yesterday, and it totally overpowered the Ibuprofen I'd taken earlier that day. But Dr. Pepper tastes pretty good... I talked to my cousin for awhile after that (maybe that's why I was in a bad mood not the caffeine...Not that my cousin makes me grumpy, but he made me talk about things that make me grumpy because he didn't know about any of it.) And then I went home...an hour late...my mom was so mad! I had been helping someone with chemistry which is why we had stayed, and then while I was talking to my cousin, she had been finishing her homework. My mom yelled at me when I got home. and I went into my room and cried, then I went downstairs to get more Ibuprofen, and my older sister (who normally is the one who comforts me) told me that my younger brother (who had had to wait at the school while I was busy) had told her that she was suppose to ignore me, and then she did just that. I was crying again before I turned around, but she kept ignoring me. I cried for several minutes before I calmed myself down enough to start on my AP History homework. I finished all of my homework before I had mutual, and I didn't want to go. I really think that life is just having issues. I'm sitting by some of my friends I've known since 8th grade, and they haven't noticed that I'm crying, they're to busy. GRRRRRRRRR sometimes I hate myself. I hate being jealous, I hate being small, I hate my nose, I hate how I never reach my potential, I hate that I know everyone, but almost no one knows me. I'm done writing for awhile because it makes me too upset.

loosely fitting skin # dos

I'm me. I know that's who I am, but who is me? Me is a little girl who spends more time consulting novels than her parents. Me is a girl who wanted to read so bad, but my mom wouldn't teach me until my older sister had almost finished. Me is a girl who has to look out for everyone while they think they're looking out for me. Me is a girl who just wants to be done with high school and on to college. Me is a girl who sat for hours on her bed reading, all through the night most of the time. Me is a girl who struggles to gain weight because when I was sitting on my bed reading, I wouldn't eat, I would forget. Me is someone who has nightmares every night, even though they're supposed to be for little kids. Me is a girl who went by the nickname 'nobody' in ninth grade. Me is the person who's best friend 'set her up' with her first boyfriend, and regretted it. Me is someone who can't hate anybody, but wishes she could sometimes. Me is a girl who is invisible to teachers and administration. Me is a girl who is slightly bi-polar sometimes. Me is a girl who adores Michael. Me is a girl who hears awful things everyday from people who are dating. Me is a girl. Me is, well, me.