Friday, May 20, 2011


The beautiful thing about Rebecca Black's joke of a music video "Friday" is that now when anyone says anything-literally anything-about the days of the week you can always somehow slip in a sly reference to the song. Clever pop culture reference achieved.

Speaking of the days of the week, today it is Friday. Tomorrow is Saturday (Sunday comes afterward. But that's beside the point). Tomorrow my sister and I load up our storage unit with my dad. Woohoo! The only snag is that in order to fill up the storage unit, my room should probably be somewhat packed up. How much packing of my room has been accomplished? Literally none. Is this okay? Not really. When will I achieve this packing? Late tonight, probs. YAY Procrastination! Packing is definitely one of those tasks that so awkward to time. If you pack too soon, you're bound to pack something you're going to need. And if you don't pack soon enough, well then, you're stressed and scrambling at the last second. It's just grossness in a handbasket.

I'm not excited for move-out. Move-out Friday and Saturday last week were thoroughly depressing days. When I helped my BiFFle move out of her room, the reality of move-out hit me. And when my rommie (not a typo. Intentional Spelling Error.) moved out, the finality of move-out hit me. I'm never going to live in this room again. This cozy little room has seen me through so much. Two of my dear friends have sought refuge and slept overnight on the white carpet. That poor white carpet is significantly dirtier than it was at the beginning of the year. But it's still just as soft and cushy. I've hung up pictures from friends, watched many movies, stubbed my toe on the trashcan late at night. I've come in exhausted, defeated, dejected, and weather-beaten. I've entered that room at 5:00 in the morning dancing and giggling for joy. This room has held so many precious people in my life, and it's been a sanctuary for just me. It's been a place to get ready for dances, relax between the show and the party with friends, or pump the jams on the Disney Pandora station and toga it up. It's just amazing how the world around you spins at an alarming rate, and life happens in a blur of emotions and colors that sweeps you up in its arms and carries you off. And yet, at the end of the day, you always wind up in the same bed with the purple sheets, black and white comforter with the abstract floral print, and the softest, fuzziest Disney princess blanket in existence. It's very comforting. I love my room.
I'm really glad my parents got me this fuzzy princess blanket for my 18th birthday. Seriously, parents? What parents get their newly-minted adult Disney Princess items-multiple Disney items, to be precise? AWESOME parents, I suppose.
Someone once implied that my extreme admiration for the Disney Princesses was immature. And I literally couldn't comprehend why. Storytime: Once upon a time I did a show with a fantastic woman named Autumn. Autumn was a company member at that theatre, she was nearing 30, she'd been fortunate enough to be a working actor since she graduated college, and she aws married with her first child soon to come. Autumn was obsessed- and I'm talking literal obsession here-with the Disney Princesses (really all things Disney. But especially the Disney Princesses). Two of my friends created a tradition where they brought her something Disney Princess-themed every Tuesday show. Watching her shriek with joy over a Belle water-bottle, or a Cinderella purse, or Enchanted action figures was always hilarious and somewhat inspiring. That's exactly how I want to react to Disney Princesses when I'm 30. That's the little child in my I want to still be alive and well-the child that sees something beautiful and can't help but cry out with joy, because it's just so pretty.

I just find this utterly delightful. I think perhaps everyone reacts this way to their first kiss on the inside. But these little guys are child-like and open enough to react that way on the outside as well. This video makes my heart all warm and fuzzy.

Yesterday I went to a lake house with my choir. And we went out on a boat around the lake, we played volleyball, we ate hamburgers, we soaked up the sun, and we sat around a fire late at night and looked up at the stars and marveled at their beauty and brilliance. And I felt like summer has now begun. Even though I'm still at school, it now finally feels like summer.

I've been writing on this blog very regularly recently. Part of what contributes to this spurt of regular blog-writing is the fact that I've been wanting to practice my writing more regularly and consistently. And part of it is that I've gotten a new journal, and I don't like it as much as my last one yet. :( I miss my old journal. There's nothing worse than getting really attached to a journal and missing it and not wanting to move on. Maybe, gentle readers, ya'll have never felt that feeling, and maybe you have. But you have mostly likely felt the feelings in your soul that the passage of time-that sense of wonder and bemusement at how fast time moves and yet how slow. The sadness and the joy. That's what moving from one journal to the next feels somewhat like. It's a very physical and material manifestation of the passage of time. And it's a very permanent sign that you're growing up. And growing up is always exciting, and often bittersweet.

For our First Year of Studies department, freshies had to answer a survey of self-reflection questions at the beginning and end of this semester. One of the questions was "How are you becoming the person you want to be?" Which prompted me to think: Who do I want to be? And what on earth could possibly stop me from being that loving, patient, intelligent, and cool person today? My laziness? My cowardice? My selfishness? And why on earth would I want to waste one day not being the person I want to be? Obviously, I fail at being the person I want to be every single day. But the point is that you try. And try. And try some more! Life is actually pretty simple. You've just got to keep on trying and not give up if you fall down. But just pick yourself up and brush yourself off and move on. And that, as Gandalf would say, "is an encouraging thought."

Go outside and look at the sky sometime today. It'll take your breath away.

We have our end-of the year choir concert today. We we we so excited. And on that note, I'm going to head to rehearsal.

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