I Was In Such A Good Mood Today, Too.

Song of the Day: You Don't Know Me - Michael Buble

If I were the protagonist of a Greek tragedy (and I am so often compared to one), my tragic flaw would, without question, be jealousy.

It's ridiculous. I am continuously shocked and a bit disgusted by how insecure I must be to get as jealous as I do. One of my best friends talks about how awesome her new roommate is: Jealous. A friend goes out with her boyfriend instead of me: Jealous. A guy friend shows interest in or even just hangs out with another girl: Jealous.

Let me break down just how fucked up that last one is. A good amount of my energy is spent making sure I don't get romantically involved. I'm gonna be really real: when nobody wants you, it's a lot easier on your ego to "not want" them first. Thinking this way makes it feel like things are on my terms and the whole situation sucks a little less. Plus I have this awful little thought cycle in which I would prefer to be friends with someone before deciding to date them, but I would never want to date a friend because things are never the same after you break up. Don't want to risk that.

So to me, it is excessively ridiculous that I care when one of my guy friends hangs out with other girls when I don't want anything to happen in the first place. Then the stupid little voice in my head goes, "It's because you hate feeling like you aren't special, meheheheh" and then I yell at it that I'm not that arrogant. And then I hit the voice with an imaginary baseball bat. Repeatedly.

After the voice regains consciousness, it says, "But you have guy friends. What does it matter if they have girl friends?" At this point I wave the bat threateningly and say, "Difference: Nobody gets jealous toward/at/because of me." Wow that sounds really self-centered/self-pitying/stupid when you put it out there. But there it is.

I hope I'm a good actor and hide my stupid jealous tendencies. Because nothing is more annoying than having your bubble burst. I'm generally pretty good about being happy for people whether I'm actually pleased or not; I do try to be truly happy for them, because I know I'm not gaining anything by raining on the parade. OH MY GOD SO MUCH SELF-PITY GET IT OFF ME GAAAHHHHHHH.

One day I'll construct a satellite / and I'll name it after you / --'cause you were the greatest friend of all / except for when you split my lip in two -- / To see the look upon your face / as I launch you into space.

The Lights

Song of the Day: Awake My Soul by Mumford & Sons

You know what I love about humans? We love to wonder. I used to feel really hurt when my friends talked about wanting to leave and get away; but it's because they had realized just how much there is to see in the world and got the itch to go see it all. And having acquired that itch, I know that scratching won't do a damn thing.

This occurred to me as I was listening to the "Tangled" soundtrack ('cos I'm awesome). In this newest version of the story, Rapunzel is consumed by all the things she hasn't seen, mostly because she is not allowed to see them. It's human nature to immediately want to do the things we're forbidden from doing.

Rapunzel is first worried about the lights not being as amazing as she imagines them to be; she's built them up in her mind so much that it's totally possible that they won't be as wonderful as she thinks. But there's also the possibility that they will be every bit as spectacular as she expects--then what? A majority of her life has been an effort to get out of her tower to see this one event, so what does she do after she sees them? I like Flynn/Eugene's answer: "You get to find a new dream." When your dream is realized, appreciate it, but don't stop dreaming.

I want to try to be more like Rapunzel and get excited just for leaving the house (though obviously my situation is rather different). I go on the same walk every Monday morning, and every time it takes my breath away. And I'm hoping I can be that appreciative throughout the rest of the week too. It's just really difficult when I'm trapped in the mall.

This evening when I got home, the first thing I noticed when I stepped out of my car was how bright the crescent moon was. And I was ridiculously happy that I could see stars. And more than anything I'm thankful that my mood never clouds my ability to see how gorgeous the world is.

Lauren, I don't know if you read this regularly or not. But if you happen to see this one, thank you for reminding me that I have time to see things. And until I see the places I've built up in my head, I'm doing my best to marvel at things right here. Because the world is really fucking cool.

All those days watching from the windows / All those years outside looking in / All that time never even knowing / just how blind I've been. -I See The Light, Tangled soundtrack

Please Reply At Earliest Convenience

Song of the Day: Madman by The Jayhawks

To Whom It May Concern:

I wish to inform you that you make me sad. As much as either of us would deny it, we are viewing each other's lives through monitors and nothing more. And sometimes I'm pretty sure even that is only going one way; I doubt you spare the time to check in on me.

The things you say are so sad because I can feel how upset you are. But that's all I can do. You will tell the entire internet and you won't tell me. Maybe I shouldn't care so much about someone who hasn't asked me how I am in months, but old habits die hard. But I can never compete with the people you WILL tell. The exciting people. I guess you prefer the transition from screen to human rather than the other way around. I should have waited and introduced myself over AIM or Myspace. Would I be exciting then? Would I be mysterious enough to warrant your attention? Just what does it take?

If you would just talk to me, I think we'd both feel better. I don't know if I'd be able to say anything that would help; you're really fucking stubborn. But so am I. And that's why I will continue to wish you spoke to me. I will continue to regard you much more highly than you regard me. And no matter how angry or frustrated I get, I will pick up on the first ring and listen intently, no questions asked. Because chances are, the only question that WILL get asked will be me asking how you are. I really hope that one day the answer will be, "I'm happy." And I hope you'll tell me why. I love you.

If you will not have me as myself / perhaps as someone else, perhaps as you / I'd be worth noticing. -I'll Be That Girl, Barenaked Ladies

Vulnerable

Song of the Day: Shadow On The Wall - Brandi Carlile

I had this nightmare a few nights ago that I've become obsessed with. And I think I just need to write it out.

Now first of all, it wasn't technically a nightmare. It was what I have come to call a "limbomare." There's a point where you're lying in bed waiting to fall asleep--if you're like me, it takes an effing long time to fall asleep--and your brain becomes very vulnerable. Maybe it's just me. I'll switch to first person. So when my brain gets to this relaxed and vulnerable state, I often find myself entertaining thoughts that I keep at bay during the day, but sometimes they're totally random and not necessarily repressed. Either way, my brain sort of takes an idea and runs with it without my guidance, and so even though I'm still technically awake and aware, they feel like dreams because I don't feel like I'm scripting them.

On the night in question the thought of being shot crossed my mind. My brain took this idea of a traumatic injury and ran with it, and ended up with me losing my right arm. Now on the surface it's easy to think, "Well, at least I'm left-handed already so that's one less hurdle to jump in getting used to this." But losing my right arm would mean losing the entire way I live. Cello, gone. Guitar, gone. Piano, gone. I found myself getting really worked up as my mind tried to navigate what my new lifestyle would be like, and tried to deal with the idea of not being able to create music anymore. I had to figure out everything from how to get my hair into a ponytail to convincing my school to let me continue studying music education so that even though I couldn't play, I could pass on my passion for music. I could conduct with one hand, right?

It was comforting that my brain went there first, when it was tired and vulnerable and allowed to think anything it wanted. It still pointed me toward teaching and conducting.

Yesterday, I wanted to see if I could do it. Live with one arm, I mean. Starting around noon I tucked my right arm into my sweatshirt before I drove home from my weekly walk in the park. Turns out I'm kind of a pro at driving with only my left hand, and only had real trouble when I got home and tried to set the parking brake. But I managed to make myself lunch. And even though those are fairly simple tasks to modify for one-handedness, it was reassuring that I could do them. I think I tend to doubt myself quite a bit, so overcoming any obstacle feels really good and I savor every "Hey-I-can-do-this" moment, no matter how small it is. And if, heaven forbid, I ever were to lose my right arm, it's good to know that I would be able to wallow in the loss of my lifestyle and not need to worry about going hungry.

The last car on this train of thought is one that came to me today, when my brain was alert. I really didn't want to think it, but it forced itself in and won't let go. I have to wonder if this whole scenario didn't pop into my head because part of me wants it. I think I really like the idea of overcoming such a huge obstacle because it's not just losing the convenience of two arms, it's losing the ability to do what my life revolves around. Part of me likes how strong I hypothetically feel after accepting that I can't create music anymore and moving forward with a modified plan. Of course I don't want that. I want to keep playing music for as long as my vital organs are functioning. Maybe it's the fact that I've never really had a significant obstacle to face that makes my brain create really extreme ones like this. Either way, if I ever actually lose one of my arms, I'm going to a) hate myself for suggesting it to the universe and/or b) be simultaneously terrified and stoked that my psychic powers are finally showing themselves. Seriously. Psychic dreams run on my mom's side of the family, and it seems to have stopped at me. I've only had one that I can remember, and it was EXTREMELY minor. Boo.

This probably won't make me stop thinking about how I would deal with this situation. I keep revising it whenever my mind wanders. It's probably as simple as a phobia of commitment; now that I've applied to college and will be auditioning soon, and then going off to pursue an education, my brain is like "HOLD UP. Stop all this growing up and being serious nonsense. I mean really." That little voice tends to be really loud sometimes. But I think my cello is louder.

I just need the passion that's burning within me / we all know that's much more than enough. -Without Walls by GraySkiesBlues