Realization

That awful awakening that stings somewhere deep inside you, a place where you can't reach or do anything about.

They would go on just fine if you left.

In fact,

They'd rather be with each other than you.

And there's nothing you can do about it.

In the Spotlight For Now

Tonight was our Far East drama showcase!
*shivers*

I was so nervous beforehand. But in those situations, you just have to pretend it's just rehearsal, that no one is watching but Ms. Deakins (who's really a harsher critic than our parents would be anyways), and that no one is going to notice if you mess up a line.

And guess what? It was AWESOME. 


I was even told that Bailey and my duet about being spies was good enough to make mainstage! Granted, mostly it came from my little brother, but it felt good nonetheless.


And now, there is only to wait until Sunday.....

Well that, and pack.
And buy gifts for my secret pal on the team.
And worry.
And do homework.

Come to think of it, I should go. 

Dear Geckos,

(specifically the ones that inhabit my house)

Thanks for brightening my day by scaring my mother when she walks into a room to spot your lone presence on a wall nearby. Thanks for making those happy chirping noises from behind the printer while I do homework. Thanks for fascinating me with the science of those tiny, rapid, sticky feet you have.

Watch out for the pets. If you hear the dog barking at you, run upwards and into some corner where he can't see you. If you even SEE my cat, run upwards and away. I don't even want to think about finding another of your members disemboweled on the floor.

All this is to say that I am perfectly happy to provide a warm shelter for you inside our home.

But sharing a shower with me is a little much.

At least try to refrain from letting your smaller members slide up and down the tile walls next to my head. Staying behind the translucent curtain is better, but still slightly unnerving. 

Though I hope you get an exciting, roller-coaster, life-or-death moment when I move the curtain.

Best wishes,

Abby 

Wallowing In Mutual Clingy-ness

Yet another great outpouring of feelings with Coree today helped me feel better about my past (and partially present) self.

Because I used to be (and still am) SO clingy.

I'd latch on to someone who I thought could protect me, or make me feel important, or let me cling to their backpack straps as they towed me through the in-crowd. But I didn't realize that not everyone will just let me cling and love me no matter what I do. That's just the way it is. Sad, right? 

Anyways. Turns out I'm not the only one!

Shocking I know. Hearing Coree echo the very same frustrations that I felt made my heart soar with relief and swell with happiness at the fact that we can have each other to fall back on when people shake us off their backpack straps unfeelingly. (Too much? I'm feeling dramatic.)

So thanks, Corenne Janera. ;) You're the bestest, regardless of what boyfriend-hogging, abandoning upperclassmen might seem to think. 

And now I get to go pelt inflatable excersize balls at people and bask in the SPIRIT OF THE LAWD! 

(insert Pentecostal pastor impression here)

Doesn't get any better than this. 

Oh wait. It does. I'm smelling pasta. GO MOM. 

When That Feeling Is Gone

Running a path over and over can only last so long before it wears through. 

She waits and waits for the next magic moment. That turning point when the world will turn to brilliant light and her feet will once again rise off the ground and hover there. She waits and waits without fail.

But it doesn't come.

And she realizes that stinging truth about magic moments. That they're not meant to come often. It makes the last one turn sour and the hope of ever finding one again grow dim and fade with the last remnants of leftover happiness. A couple times, she thinks she may have found it. The smile almost emerges. Her fingertips tingle with anticipation, but it's just her imagination. 

In one small dusty corner of her mind, she desperately attempts to trap the very last pieces of light that haven't yet been taken out since the last time she needed that joy. She tucks them away, savoring them with a new sense of appreciation, because it's all she has left. The magic moment didn't come this time.

And she doesn't know if it ever will. 

A River Of Emotions (You Bet It's Deep)

If Aaron or Michael are reading this (doubtful, but whatever), they'll understand the hilarious spasms of giggles this title sends me into. Aaron and I sketched out today in seminar, a completely accurate drawing of Michael's heart and emotions. They were- you guessed it- a river. Oh yes. So good.

Kay, sorry. Life. Blogging. Right.


In one of the finest conversations with Coree to this point, I realized some things about myself. About my dependency with friends. About her. About other people. About everything. Munching on chewy candy and wisdom, we were knee-deep in grownup-level issues like pros. *cracks knuckles*

Good stuff.

It was one of those moments (which seem to be happening daily) where I wanted to burst out to her how much I loved her. How much I wished she could understand how loved she is by everyone who meets her, and how brave she is for taking on the world like she does. The fact that she even took the time to trust ME with her emotions, instead of her best friend (well, more like in addition to her best friend, but still), swelled my heart with incredible happiness. 

I mean, ME. 

ME?

Needless to say, I feel awesome about today.

Getting Along Famously. Pun Intended.

Coree signed an autograph today.

Someone at school whom she'd been intimidated by since MIDDLE SCHOOL came up and told her that she reads Coree's blog every day and loves it so much, and could she get her autograph?

So proud of her. She was so surprised by this unexpected and completely worthy attention, yet ecstatic. From there, we started talking about the pros of blogging, other people's blogs (she'll kill me for this, but Liv, I told her about how awesome yours was and that she should check it out), being an internet sensation, and other such things. I wondered if I should publicize my blog more so as to become equally famous, but I don't post as often or as brilliantly as my friends, and who knows just how many secrets I want the population of the internet to know about?


Like the showtune I sang in the shower.


Or that cute guy who smiled at me the other day.


Or things that make me cry.

Or...or...


But then. It's not like I'm signing autographs. I have a feeling I've got nothing to worry about. :)

Coree's Blog:

corennajellybeana.blogspot.com 

Liv's Blog:

livindepth.blogspot.com 

For my tiny population of fans. 

Bucket List #1

I realized a while ago that my list of things I want to do before I die has gotten very long and needs to be organized. I also realized that I need to get cracking, because who knows when I will get hit by a car or something. So I've decided to start a series of posts dedicated to the great and incredible things I plan on doing before I kick the bucket. (That's why it's called a bucket list-wink.)

I don't really think that needs any further explanation. So let's begin, shall we.

#1: Wingsuit base-jumping.  

The greatest thing anyone could ever do with their time

This is by far the number one thing on my list.
I mean, come ON. It's the closest thing to human flight as you can get. It's freefalling with no parachute. It's pure and exhilarating freedom to literally soar over mountains. Yes, you have to undergo intense training, I'm certain. But I don't care.

Coolest guys ever

This video is essentially what I want my life to be like. 

You'll find that the top 5 items on my list are all things that branch off of this amazing feat. Until then, replay this video and bask in the wonder. :)

That Feeling

The feeling that envelopes her like a cloud is too much to convey to the world; it would overwhelm the senses, and in fact overwhelms her already. She is practically immersed in rays of inner sunshine, consumed by this euphoria bubbling up inside her. It is magical. A small giggle escapes, and she quickly must restrain the rest inside. Her toes curl as she concentrates on focusing this wild, gleeful energy into a small sphere of imaginary light. She tucks it into an invisible pocket somewhere, where it glows, and she can pull it out again later and bask in it. 


It will last for as long as she keeps it alive. 


Over and over again in her mind she replays the magical feeling. A sly smile. A hand across her shoulders. The small ache in her temple. The sweat on her brow. Everything. But especially the smile. That she cannot lose. As long as she runs through it in her mind, over and over again until it wears a path, it stays, and consumes every fiber of her being. This glorious cycle will continue until, little by little, it starts to fade. The path in her mind will be worn through and eventually, only the memory of that happiness will remain. And then there is only to wait. 


That is, until the next magic moment comes. And it always does. 

More Adventures With Expresso Machines

Just realized that this will be 2 posts in a row dealing with my endeavors making coffee. Ah well, the more the merrier.

3 hours working the cafe was not enough. It actually got more crowded than I expected, what with drama friends coming in, and a couple parents, and even (best part) my friends Aaron and Michael, which caused me to inwardly jump for ecstatic joy because they realized how AWESOME it was, and now they'll tell their friends, and they'll all start coming more, and...and...*sigh*. I feel so proud of everyone.

I was sort of worried that Calen and I would be the only people there. That there'd be a lot of awkward silence, and he wouldn't want to talk to me, and that he'd wish that someone else had signed up to work instead of me, because I was so boring and...underclassman.
Then I spilled milk or something and he pretended to be mad, and shoved a spoonful of frothy milk on my nose.
So much for silence. It was on. 


Of course I got him back, which sparked all kinds of empty complaints about his nose being sticky, and arguments about the correct way to spit like a man, and running times, and what would happen to me if I touched his hair.........

You get the idea.

It was the greatest possible end to my week. 

Kind of proud of myself for seeing this on the tea bag. Describes my cafe experience. :)

Conquering My Fears of Steamed Milk

I don't think people fully appreciate how dangerous expresso machines can be.

While in training today at the youth group cafe, I had to brave the scalding metal and bubbling steam. After a few fail attempts (I used the wrong filter and created ultra caffeinated shots, the nozzle made shrieking sounds when I used it, etc.), I finally mastered the art of frothy steamed milk. Soon I was cracking out lattes and feeling pretty awesome.

 I also would like to add that I am never, EVER going back to Starbucks' chai lattes.


It was also nice to exchange witty banter with people while pretending to wipe the countertops, racking my brain for something football-related to throw out at the right moment while also looking like I wasn't desperate for conversation, as well as resisting the urge to fix my bangs.
It's an art.

And now, belly full of chai and the sweet taste of victory, I shall retire to my beckoning bed.

Combing the Forest

As a child, whenever there was a phrase in a story such as, "They combed the forest searching for Pooh Bear",  an immediate mental image was conjured.

Of a gargantuan comb scraping the countryside,
its teeth raking through leaves,
ripping up grass,
bending trees in half,
uprooting vegetation and small creatures burrowed in the ground,
and eventually,

out would tumble Pooh Bear.


To this day, that image is what I imagine. One day, I'm going to build a giant comb and do it for real.

For Lack of a Better Blog Post

Have I ever mentioned how much it bugs me that the picture at the top of this page isn't the size I want it to be?????

Because it does. And it isn't.


Also. Why is it that it is impossible for a girl to spontaneously produce her own surfboard, drive herself out to some seawall somewhere, teach herself to surf without being surrounded by Japanese instructors and 6-year-old surfing prodigies, and be perfect at surfing on the first try? WHY?????
I recently watched Soul Surfer, if you can't tell. Gosh, I want to surf so bad. Not because of the movie though. I just do. I was born in California. I recently learned to like avocados. I tan easily. Why can't just round out the stereotype and be able to skate and surf like a pro? Shouldn't be all that hard.

But I'm too nervous to ask my friend with an extra surfboard if I can borrow his, because I can't actually surf. And I'm too nervous to take a class because I'd be alone and surrounded by little kids. And I'm too nervous to ask my friend to teach me because I'm convinced he'd laugh, make up some excuse, and then go off with his group of surfer friends and rip it up on the waves without me, and have a great time while he was at it.

GRRRRR.

I also have the spontaneous urge to make a music video. A diehard, rockin' music video with revolutionary screenplay and wild, awesome dance moves. But of course, I'm embarrassed of silent judgement if I were to post it anywhere.

And I have the urge to walk up to someone and say nothing at all. Just stare into their face. Then draw my fist back and deliver a blow to their face so hard that they yell out in pain and double over in agony, while onlookers marvel at my beastly-ness.

Not that I'm thinking of a specific person, I've just always wanted someone (preferably male) to do something horrible enough to me that I'd be justified in doing it.

I also have the urge to walk up to someone (possibly the same person that I punched in the face), stare into their eyes, and deliver a dramatic, movie-worthy kiss.

But of course. We all know these things are NOT happening anytime soon. Heavens no. We can't have shenanigans like that. I'm the good girl, remember?

-__________-

My prose has been exhausted. *sigh*
Good night, world.