Oh, starry eyes, standing alone in the night...

You could see her cry, with a smile and a wink and a sparkle in her eyes. She calmly sighed, "I will be alright."

The Motley Crue concert kicked my ass. I have never been so content with my music choice. The New York Dolls were fantastic, Poison were preposterous but fun, and Motley Crue just about destroyed me. There were fantastic. My concertmates (totally a word) were splendiferous as well. I really enjoy hanging out with those two, and it was some much-needed time with the guys. I love the many girls I have learned to be friends with over the past few years, but I definitely needed some time with guy friends.
This weekend, so far, as revealed to me some self-truths. I'm going to do some blatant word vomit processing here.

Truth #1 - I swear too much.
I think that it is a healthy thing to be comfortable swearing around specific people. I think it is good to not be afraid of a word just for the connotations - not judging a book by its cover, to be cliche. I do not think that it is okay to swear whenever the hell I want just for shits and giggles. The fact that "shits and giggles" is even a common phrase in my vocabulary says something about my swearing policy. I'm not afraid of words like fuck or cunt, but I know that both of those words offend a lot of people. I know that most swearing is done by people in my age range. This time in life is all about finding the balance between living for yourself and respecting other people. A lot of my swearing is rude and disrespectful. I didn't realize it until I caught myself saying "shit" in front of my siblings, to my parents. I'm not sure what I'm going to do about it quite yet, but the realization itself was an important moment.

Truth #2 - I am far too stubborn about being independent.
I've known this for awhile - I mean, who fights boys when they open car doors for you? (p.s. thank you, tumnus...) - but a recent injury has really brought this to light. I rolled my ankle on the walk to Dana's tonight. It was dark and I was in all black. Luckily, Katie was with me and patiently waited for me to be able to stand again. It's not terrible (i think) but it hurts. I wouldn't even let Katie help me stand up. I remember sophomore year tripping up the risers in Stage II and literally bruising half of my body, and refusing Mike's help for at least an hour before it hurt so much that I gave in. Balance again, right? It's a good thing to be independent. That doesn't mean that I shouldn't allow people to help me when I do need it. Especially when it puts me in danger to refuse the help. I do not have to prove myself to anyone.

Truth #3 - I take far too long to move on.
I don't hold grudges, at least not thus far in life. But there are other things to move on from, crushes being the top of my list, and I seem to struggle with that. I have this friend who can't seem to hold on to a crush for longer than a week. I've never understood why, because I hold on to them for ages. I'm sure that friend does not understand why I can like someone for an entire year without them ever showing signs of reciprocation (or why, even after I'm 'over' someone, I get random flare ups that endanger my friendships). I don't know why I'm so prone to hold on. I used to think it meant that I was meant for a long relationship someday. I'm not so sure any more, no matter what my mounds of guy (and gay) friends say. It doesn't mean as much coming from someone who will never so much as look at me like that. I appreciate it all the same, but it is less convincing than ever right now.

Truth #4 - My love language is decidedly touch.
And it sucks.

And in the darkest light, if my memory serves me right...

I'll never turn back time, forgetting you but not the time.

On an entirely different note than the rest of this blog, I feel rather rooted down suddenly. I feel content in who I am. I've come to appreciate the unique beauty of being a wallflower - the perks of being a wallflower, if you will. I know that a lot of my friends struggle with similar things. We're all just looking to be loved and to be happy. It's hard to find that in yourself, but I don't think you can really find it in someone else. Happiness has to come from within. I'm not saying I've found that happiness within myself, but I think I've found the road that I must travel.
I'm reading The Hobbit to my little sister over the phone, and it is one of the most rewarding experiences I've ever had the pleasure to discover. Madi reached out to me and asked me to read to her sometimes, and she wanted to hear the Hobbit (which, luckily, we both have a copy of). I called her today and read her the first chapter, and she made me makes up tunes to the songs. It was so good to just hear how happy my sister was because she was "spending time" with me. The fact that we also got to enjoy one of my favorite books together was just a bonus. I never put much stock in family until I came to college and found so many people who aren't as lucky as I am. I have two parents who still love each other very much, and two obnoxiously talented and beautiful younger siblings who are just starting to blossom.
My trip to Walla Walla this summer was so much better than last year's trip. I thoroughly enjoyed the musical, Hairspray, and spent quality time with some friends. As crazy as it sounds, some of my best friendships have grown out of crushes, and I'm very grateful for the friendship that has taken root between Preston and I. For all the crap I give him, he really is a wonderful friend and he puts up with a lot of shit from me.
Goodnight, my friends. Thank you.

I could lie to myself, but its true...

I should be happy. I should be gloriously happy. My life is wonderful. I have spectacular friends. I'm surrounded by uplifting, genuinely honest and beautiful people. I love my job, even when I'm doing the boring stuff. I have so much good in my life, and yet the tiniest thing can get me down. I swear there is a disconnect in my brain. It's like my heart/mind refuses to be happy. I am so proud of where I've gone since I decided I was going somewhere, and yet I react like I have done nothing. No, worse than that. Like I am nothing. I know that isn't true, and yet I can't seem to act on that knowledge. I should be happy. Why am I not?

It's so nice to have people around me. People who stop me from doing stupid things. People who give me hugs and save me ticker tape because it was the best free souvenir they could find from the concert that I should have gone to with them. I need to find a way to connect the part of me that is so happy and grateful to have friends like mine with the part of me that feels continually alone. For all of the happy things I am experiencing, I still find myself writing things like this entry and this little bit of poetry that refuses to grow:

the words have a song
and the song isn't me
i think the song's you
but you don't want to be

I don't understand how I can have a disconnect this severe in my mind. I am worth something, and I am sick of the rest of me not remembering that. I feel like I'm a pathetic high school kid all over again, but I know that this is not something that will be fixed by letting it slide away. I've been trying that for too long. It's like I live inside my head. I don't participate in my own life. I'm so passive, and that's why I end up discontent after I've successfully made everyone else happy. For all the people I love and all of the lives I work so hard to improve, I do nothing for myself. I don't think I can even pass it off as being Christian or unselfish or anything at all that is so good - I'm just neglecting myself in every way I can that isn't obvious to the naked eye.

...you should probably not know how much I'm falling apart right now, but I'm sick of being the strong one.

It was really, really good...

You made me happy every single day, but now I've got to go away!

I am rather extremely dissatisfied with my life right now. I'm trying to figure out why so I can fix it and thus be somewhat happy again. It has something to do with the showing of Rocky Horror that I recently attended with people that I consider to be good friends. I felt uncomfortable and out of pace all night. Rocky Horror, for me, is something special that isn't about how hot you are or how talented you are - it's about being yourself and having fun and making a fool of yourself. I just couldn't enjoy it like that this time, because all they said all night was "Damn! Look at how hot we are!"... except that I didn't feel "hot" - I felt uncomfortable and out of place. You can tell in the pictures. There is just such a disconnect between how I see the world and how all of them see the world.
As we were getting ready, we were watching Taken - which I had never seen before. As it came to the big final battle where Liam Neeson is badass and kills everyone in order to save his daughter, I got increasingly uncomfortable. There was a point where he injured someone enough that he could have gotten away and kept moving, and instead took the time to kill the man even though he had a wife and children waiting for him (which had been stated in the movie). In true Maery fashion, I yelled at Liam Neeson not to kill him because he had children. Isabel gave me her utter-disgust-with-how-awful-you-are face and said something along the lines of "I don't fucking care. He's evil." I left it at that because Isabel could probably kill me if she wanted to, but it bothered me for awhile. Obviously, it is still bothering me since I'm writing about it here. The fact that he was still human and still had a life worth living rung so true in my heart that I couldn't understand how they didn't agree with me, but then I think about how elated everyone was when Osama bin Laden died and I'm shocked at how bloodthirsty Americans are when it comes to those deemed "evil". Then again, I've always loved the darker characters in books...
On a completely unrelated and entirely lighter note, Weird Al Yankovic's mother is named "Mary Elizabeth" and it makes me really happy.

What's an angel like you ever do with a devil like me?

The end of this school year (my junior year of college, for those who can't keep up) has reminded me just how introverted I am. Friendships I thought were lost have suddenly grown back due to some much needed one-on-one time, and friendships I never thought I'd have blossomed quietly. I'm still the quiet girl in the background, but I've learned (at least a little) to be okay with being a wallflower. Having just re-read The Perks of Being a Wallflower for the millionth time since jolsby gave it to me freshman year for Christmas [when we were not on speaking terms], I know that there are many blessings to being the observer. I just need to learn to participate in my own life a little bit.
I'm so sick of sitting around and waiting for things to happen. While my current frustration is romantic in nature, I've come to realize that if I had just spoken up about a couple of different issues this past year, things would have turned out much better. I don't think I'll ever be able to speak up about how much it bugs me to be the 'ugly' girl of the group, but that is mostly because none of the girls would ever agree with me. Being as close as I am with so very many guys, it is something I've come to accept about myself. I would never trade what I do have - incredible friendships - for what I've seen so many of my beautiful friends go through. While I wish desperately at times to be loved and cherished, I know that there are more important things, like God's love for me and the fact that I am finally at least a little bit proud of who I am.
My new room is really cold, mostly because it is in the basement. Maybe also because we haven't figured out how to turn the heat on yet. I'm loving having my own room, and living in a house, but I don't spend much time here since I'm working so much and always seem to end up at Caitlin and Dana's house. I definitely need to spend some quality time just relaxing in my room (and maybe finishing the organizing). The worst part of this summer (that I can foresee) is my current utter lack of guy friends. As a girl who spends most of her time playing with the boys (...forgive me, I just watched Top Gun for the first time...), trying to survive without any male presence other than a few of the staff at work is awful. I love the girls to death, but there is really no one I can be nerdy around now, let alone someone that can read my mind the way so many of my guy friends have learned. I really, truly miss having nerdy conversations and learning nerdy things because all of my guy friends are nerdier than me (except Kurt). I'm literally counting the days until Preston comes to see KISS because it means I get to have a guy friend for a few short hours.
Speaking of Preston, I'm going to see Motley Crue (with Poison and the New York Dolls) in August with him and Reid. It will be so incredibly epic. Thank you, God, for friends like those two.

'cause baby you're not alone...

Clearly, I do not write regularly. I suppose it would help to have only one place to write, rather than here and my livejournal and my physical purple/orange journal. Things sort of sporadically go between them all. I do apologize for never finishing my journals about London - maybe when I move back onto campus I'll get around to it.
I have absolutely loved living in the Holland Girls' House this summer. We've definitely found the spirit of the house, and it has been so much fun. I love the girls I have been living with - Jessica, Caitlin, Dana, Sally, and Andrea. I don't think I've ever had a summer that was this fun before. I mean, I've loved my houseboat trips and mission trips and growing experiences and camps. This summer, however, has actually been enjoyable at all parts, rather than just a week here and there. I've really appreciated that. I've never liked summer very much, but this one has been pleasantly surpising.

Aside from that, school starts super soon and I am beyond excited. I basically insane, since I'm taking on 16 credits, a part-time job, and Assistant Stage Managing the main stage production. I might die. I might love it. I'm really excited by this challenge and I can't wait to cross each bridge as it comes - or maybe before! I'm getting closer and closer to getting my license, which is also awesome. My mom also informed my this evening that she bough Ben's old car so that I can start driving a small automatic. I'm so honored to be inheriting his car. =D It makes me happy.

That was just a quick update so that my blog isn't completely outdated. I'm gonna go to bed to I can be fully awake for my last full day of work at the Civic.

Second week of London, summarized

11 January
Today, we completed the dream of every actor - we toured the Globe. It was a gorgeous theatre, and the way it works seems very interesting. Open air, costumes limited to time period, no lights, and a visible audience! Also, there was a bear hiding backstage that you could see if you peered into the murky depths. It made me giggle a little. I really wanted to be on that stage performing. I've never felt that much like I needed to be performing before. Normally, any aspect of theatre satisfies me, but I absolutely knew that I had to be on that stage someday. We'll see. We had an acting class as well, that was really more of a Shakespeare history class. It made me really excited to take Shakespeare with Doug this next semester though. After a brief lunch at EAT (hahaha, right?), we explored the Tate Modern. I love modern art - I saw Warhols and Pollocks and Cahuns and Picassos and Monets! It was an amusing experience because Ben was in our group and he abhors modern art. He was so grumpy the entire time. My favorite painting was "Bursting Shell" by C.R.W. Nevinson. It looks exactly like it fell out of Labyrinth and onto the canvas. After all of that excitement, Ben, Caitlynn, and I went to Cat on a Hot Tin Roof. We got our cheap seats upgraded for free, and ended up sitting in amazing seats. After the show, which was spectacular, we waited at the stage door to meet James Earl Jones! It was so cool!

12 January
Class day trip to Stratford-upon-Avon, Warwick, and Coventry Cathedral. It was still snowing in places! I got sorted at a little Witchcraft and Wizardology shop hidden in Stratford - into Hufflepuff. I was angry at the Sorting Hat for that.
An excerpt from the journal I kept: "Today is our first day trip. I'm really excited to see part of this country other than London. I really love London, every bit that I've explored, but the rest of the country must be just as incredible." It's been a few weeks and I don't know why I so clearly remember writing those few sentences. Everything about me is perfect for London, but already I was ready to break out and see more. I'm not good at staying in confined spaces, apparently.
All of the shops in Stratford were named creatively, and most of them in the theme of Shakespeare. There was definitely an inn named "The Twelfth Night". We didn't make it to the church where Shakespeare is buried, but we saw the cottage that Anne Hathaway (his wife, not the now-famous actress) grew up in, and we saw the house that Shakespeare himself was born in. Actually, we saw a reconstruction of that house, which included one original floor. It wasn't as "religious" of an experience as the Globe was, but it was definitely cool. They have one of the original windowpanes on display, where hundreds of people have etched their names into the glass - including some other famous authors! There was an adorable statue of a Jester with quotes from As You Like It, Twelfth Night, and Hamlet on the base. It was a delightful thing - truly, I was filled with delight.
When we made it to Warwick Castle, I was half in awe and half almost disgusted. The castle itself is beautiful in the creepy, old, historic sort of way. However, they advertise it like Disneyland. There's a princess tower where 8 year old girls can go play dress-up (and Rick was disappointed that he couldn't go in). The part of Warwick that I was most excited about was walking up on the castle walls, which, OF COURSE, was closed due to the weather. England is apparently as bad as Western Washington when it comes to snow. The coolest part of Warwick makes me sound morbid - Nicki, Alyssa, Lauren and I (I believe - I could be wrong about people) climbed down into the "gaol" (read: jail) and explored the creepily lit area. And hidden off in a corner was something I'd only read about in The Phantom of the Opera and seen briefly in Labyrinth - an oubliette! Since it is pretty much a hole in the ground that is ten thousand times creepier than the gaol itself, there wasn't much to see but it made the line from Labyrinth so much darker: "It's a place you put people to forget about 'em."
Finally, we arrived at Coventry Cathedral. It was a little overly emotional for me, actually. The cathedral is gorgeous, as is everything else in this country (honestly, even cows are pretty here). There are a few small chapels scattered around the main cathedral and everything has meaning - it is the perfect place for someone like me. I happened upon The Chapel of Christ in Gethsemane - a chapel for those who are suffering or those who wish to pray fervently for the salvation of those suffering (whether emotionally, spiritually, or physically). At the front of this beautifuly room, there is a gate - shaped like a crown of thorns. To enter the chapel to pray, you have to pass through Jesus' suffering. I leave you to think about how profound praying there would be.

13 January
I was rushed through the British Museum, which, surprisingly, is full of the history of everything but Britain. (Not really, but it sure felt like it at times) There was an exhibit on the history of the United States, and I was impressed by how similar it felt to walking through a museum at home. We saw all of the epic requirements like the Rosetta Stone and Egyptian mummies and such. The top floor was devoted to Japanese art and history, which was very interesting because I've never really been exposed to true Japanese art - Manga certainly doesn't count.
The class saw Shakespeare's Twelfth Night as performed by the Royal Shakespeare Company. I fell in love. Literally. If I could do anything in this world, unlimited by my own talent or means, I would work with the RSC. I've always loved Shakespeare - probably partially thanks to my refusal to read any version of The Bible besides NKJ as a young child. Twelfth Night is also the only Shakespearean play I've seen performed (if you don't count being IN A Midsummer Night's Dream) and I've seen it a few times. Never have I understood and absolutely loved it like I did during this performance. Miltos Yerolemou as Feste was positively brilliant. If someday, I get the chance to go back to England, I am most definitely making a point of somehow becoming involved with the RSC.

14 January
Today was an adventure day. I had lunch at this cutesy restaurant called Tiger Tiger (Restaurant Restaurant) which we later discovered becomes a nightclub at a certain time. The food was good and cheap, and the waitress was hilarious. We walked in and asked for a table, and immediately she went "OH, I love Americans!" She regarded us as a white peacock - interesting and beautiful, but abnormal nonetheless.
I may have also done something extremely "unlike" me, according to my youth leader. My mom was okay with it when I told her. I haven't told Dad yet...oops. I finally got the tattoo that I've been thinking about since high school.
This evening, a few of us got really epic cheap seats to see The Habit of Art by Alan Bennett. Richard Griffiths was in it (i.e. Uncle Vernon from the Harry Potter movies), and the play itself was incredible. I can't really describe it, so please, if you love theatre, go look it up and then figure out a way to go see it.

15 January
We went to a lunchtime concert by the London Symphonic Orchestra at St. Luke's. It was a brass quintet, including the youngest principal trumpet player London has ever seen (22). There was a gorgeous piece of music by Michael Berkeley that was inspired by Chaucer! I've never really been one for classical music - I love Clair de Lune and listening to Chris H. play everything ever, but aside from that...not much. This concert was interesting because not only was the music simply astounding, but they explained the context and the importance of each piece. It really helped me grasp the story that the music was telling.
And today, I completed a four-year quest. I saw Wicked! - the untold story of the witches of Oz. The musical is based on the book by Gregory Maguire and the music is by Stephen Schwartz. Sadly, the dancers were sloppy, the sound was a little off, the mics cut out once or twice, and Elphaba... Oh, dear. Alexia Khadime was an incredibly talented singer -she hit all the notes well, yes. But her ability to stay in character did not present itself to us once. She slipped between something that was possibly Elphaba and something that was decidedly not. I know I sound like a theatre snob, but its true!

16 January.
Wet got up early to queue today. Doesn't that sound so much better than standing in line? Queue. It's a fun word. We got the last seated tickets (and one standing) for Red, a lovely play by John Logan about the painter Mark Rothko (among other things). It was very hard to watch at parts, because it is very deep and abstract (like a Rothko painting, actually). Surprisingly enough, Alfred Molina was in it. If you don't know who that is, don't worry. I didn't either until after the play, we were kind of hanging out in front of the theatre and he came out to a crowd of fans - some of which had "Doc Oc" posters for him to sign. Yes, that's right, Doctor Octopus himself.