You'll go backwards, but then you'll go forwards again...

Today, I do not feel strong.

It feels good to get that out in the open.

Most of the time, I feel the need to pretend I'm okay, when I know I'm not. I'm a pretty good actress. Then I find I get frustrated when people don't ask me what's wrong, if I'm okay. I get angry when they can't see past the guise I'm presenting.

And I'm the one who's biggest pet-peeve is insincerity and dishonesty?

What a hypocrite I've become.

I've forgotten that, sometimes, it's okay to not be okay.

And I've forgotten that it's okay to let the people that care, know.

I did a lot of thinking today.

I know. Big surprise, considering one of my greatest habits is over-thinking everything.

It was a good think, though. Stress-free. More of a musing, I suppose. I was thinking about God's grace and how far I've come since I decided to walk with Him. I thought about how I used to be...pessimistic, lazy, spiteful, judgemental, violent, self-centered...and while all these things haven't been completely wiped from my system yet, I know He's working with me, and I'm so much better off.

Being at Judson has done nothing but push me further into this relationship. I can't believe how much my roommate and I have been tested already, and how thankful I am that I have her to listen to my concerns, and she trusts me with hers. People and disagreements that one day may have brought me to tears with doubt in myself, now only make me want to dance and sing with praise to God for pointing out the true friends he has blessed me with.

I'm really just brimming right now.

Even with the early-morning music theory class. Even with the horror that is yet an other ear-training, sight-singing test. Even with a choir concert, and later rehearsal afterward. Even with an impending confrontation.

I cannot stop smiling.

Jackson Eduardo Gomez Montez

Age: 4

Home: Nicaragua

Family: Mom, dad, two sisters

Household duties: Running errands

And I get to pay for his education.

And Another Thing...

Congratulations, Ben! I can not tell you how ecstatic I am for you, my brotha from anotha motha.

Amazing

It's amazing how God can completely turn a day around. You can be wondering for a week whether you mean anything to one person, then be used to uplift someone else who needed your time more, and neither of you knew it until then.

I love my God.

This past week kinda sucked. I got another job, at a small, family-owned chocolate/icecream shop/cafe in Kewaunee. It's a really great job: they work around my KC schedule, $8 an hour, tips haven't been lower than 10 bucks, and I don't have to pay for lunch. But I have been opening there and then closing an KC for the past week, and I'm exhausted. All for a laptop and piano fees at Judson. Doesn't help that a...I dunno..."former friend"? "Friend that says "let's do something", and then disappears?" Anyway, she came in and treats me like any other servant to her and, while I'm working my arse off just to give her her freaking two quarts of rock-hard mint fudge swirl, starts flaunting her brand-new macbook in it's brand-new American Eagle case. Neither of which she had to pay for, because her boyfriend's mom is rich, and her parents need some way of shutting their daughter up. Argh. Not that big of a problem. Just an annoyance. A really big annoyance.

Tourists have infiltrated Kewaunee. Really rude, loud, stupid, slow-driving tourists, that treat this place with up-turned noses and leave their taco salads and custard and sodas all over the table and floor even when there is a garbage two feet away.

Stupid teen-girl rant: If you have been sending and receiving e-mails for the past month and a half and said you wanted to do something with them, knowing full well they liked you, then, even if you are working, please be sure to send word after you get home, instead of setting your status as "____ is sad he couldn't find the lyrics to a song." or "____ is happy he knows how to drive a forklift!"

My grandma and grandpa McCambridge probably aren't coming to my graduation party. They don't like my mom anymore, now that my parents are divorced. They'll be divorced 2 years this coming November. You'd think if my brother and I can get over it, or at least deal with it, they could. And mom doesn't need to be treated like that. Maybe it's better they aren't coming. Lord knows we don't need another whiskey confrentation like Larissa's wedding.

I found out Pat Burger, my grandma Smitka's best friend, one of the most kind, thoughtful, generous women in this world, is dying of cancer. Pacreatic and liver cancer. Pretty much non-treatable. She has a month.

This is a Good Day

Despite having to get up early from three hours of sleep, despite my throat being so full of plegm because of the 50,000 cubic centimeters of second-hand smoke I've had to inhale this week, despite Nate telling me now that I have to sing tomorrow...today is what we call a Very Good Day.

It's funny, what power one e-mail contains.

I thought summer was suppose to be stress-free...

Today, my dad and I went to the Bellin Health Sports Center to sign me up for summer soccer training. Dad and I have this deal: I try out for soccer, he pays for training. We met my trainer, and he showed us the building, which is amazing. Then, in the middle of the tour, after explaining the muscles I'll need to work on to improve my keeping skills, he said, "Squat." I know I stared at him blankly for longer than I should have, but did as told, because he scares me. "No, you're doing that wrong. You have to use these muscles as keeper, not those. Now do a lunge." So, timidly, because I figured I'd do that wrong too, I did a lunge. "Okay, that's a side lunge. This is a lateral lunge." He continued to show me everything I was doing wrong until, basically, I realized I've been taught nothing right. Not to mention, my trainer reminds me of Mr. Murphy. The whole time, from initial handshake to signing the medical release forms, he did not once crack a smile. When he made jokes, I did not know whether I was allowed to laugh. And he warned me that sessions start on time, as if I was planning on arriving late to something my dad's paying for.
I know trainers are supposed to be tough. That's their job. And this is really important to me. But this is a completely different world than I'm used to. Two years ago, collegiate sports was never anything I considered doing, because I never saw myself as a serious athlete. I was the girl that told her dad that the one-act play was her sport. Now I'm in training. I'm going from "all-nonsense because it's acting" to "no-nonsense because it'll kill you if you actually suck." I'm going from "ask Ashley, she'll know" to "you know nothing, you're at the same level as 14 year-olds." And I'm really worried about my asthma getting in the way. I try not to think about it, but last time I did that, I almost had another bad attack. I can run to the beach from my house, and back, up all the hills, without wheezing now, but can I make it through a game?
8-week session, 2 days a week. My initial assesment is on Monday. I've got to be able to do this.

Haha...Two-faced people make me laugh...

It amazing, the amount of people that didn't like you that suddenly turn around when they find out you're the casting director for the next one-act...

The End of an Era

Yesterday was my last official day of highschool.

It took me three hours to clean out my four lockers (regular, band, soccer, art).

Wow.

It's done.

I don't know whether I should do cartwheels, or become really, really nervous.

Nervous cartwheels, perhaps?

Hmm.

Well, to think positively, now I no longer have to suffer under Tarazona or Persinger's rule, won't have to ask to go get food or go to the bathroom, receive truancy warnings for not wanting to waste my time in AA, or feel obligated to be a leader in...everything.

To think rather negatively, however, as I am prone to do, I no longer have a structured schedule, which means I actually have to plan things and prioritize, both of which I am not very good at doing, I'm leaving a place in which I actually felt masterful in the arts, a place where people actually looked for me for guidance and asked me my opinions so they could make good decisions.

Well, at least Mr. Leahy and my parents think I'm ready.

Normally, if I publish a post I don't like, I just leave it, because I figure the point of any journal, online or not, is to be yourself, ugliness and all. But I reread my post from last week, and realized just how ugly I could be, and that at that point, I wasn't even getting started.

I dwell on things too much. My first step in working on that was deleting that ridiculous post.

Let's move on, shall we?

April Showers Bring...My Agony

I had to go to a wedding shower today. It went from 12:30 until 4:30. Four hours of watching my cousin open up box after box of mixing bowls and spatulas, while poking my plate of untouched roast beef. Four hours of listening to aunts talk about what's wrong with the other. Four hours of trying to find a window to jump out of.

I'm sorry, I'm not what you call a shower person. Bridal showers, baby showers, April showers that turn into horrendous torrents in which the wind is blowing in your face and you can't see the ball during a soccer game you know you could have done better in...

You just can't force me to enjoy watching kitchen utensil after kitchen untensil with a bunch of people I don't know and/or dislike. Trust me, I've tried it. It's not like I'm not happy for the people the party is ever intended for. It just hard to get around the point that the only reason there is a party is to get things. I would have no problem just sending them something. But thanking me with a beefsteak?

My graduation party will involve a water balloon fight, and baseball. And I will show no mercy.

Every 15 Minutes

On Wednesday, I got my driver's license (finally), and then I got in a car crash. Well, a fake one.

I was a part of the Every 15 Minutes program, which is a demonstration to explain to teens the consequences of drunk driving. Apparently, someone dies in a drunk driving accident every fifteen minutes. For the first part of the day, students chosen to be "the living dead" are taken out of class by a man dressed as the Grim Reaper throughout the day. The kids come back with a black t-shirt and white face paint. For the rest of the day, they are not allowed to speak to anyone. This simulates their being "gone."

I was a part of the accident scene. The role they gave me was "the hysterical victim." The nurse said she wanted me to do it because she knew I could. Her words, not mine. So I agreed. At 11:00, I got my own make-up on. They gave me an arm laceration, a head wound (which looked like an exit bullet wound), and a sprained knee. They used this really thick fake blood to paste the wounds on. When I saw myself in the mirror...it was crazy how real it looked. I had blood all over my face, clumping at the chin, and down my arm. Bender and Krueger looked just as bad. Bender was going to be another wounded victim, and Krueger was the surprise death. We were in the atrium of the gradeschool, and a bunch of kindergarteners were trying to see inside, peeking in the crack of the door. Bender and I went over and entertained them. It was funny, they weren't even freaked out by the makeup. They thought it was hilarious.

At about 12:45, they took us to the accident scene. It was like being on a movie set. One car was crashed into a pole, and the other was flipped over. Spencer, Zack, and Elisha were in the car that crashed into the pole. They were the ones that had been "drinking." Krueger, Bender, and I were in the flipped over car. Krueger was the driver, I was the front passenger, and Bender was in the back. The police and nurses explained some of the details while a photo journalist asked us our names, and then we heard "Quick, get into the cars, they'll be here in three minutes!" It was really difficult getting into the car. It only had two doors, plus it was flipped. Krueger managed to put herself in this really uncomfortable position in her seat where her neck was all cramped up against the ceiling. My legs were all tangled in the bars of the head rest, and my face was pressed up against the back side window. Bender was halfway out the door, because he had to be the one to get out first. Then they covered up the cars with a tarp.

We heard the junior and senior class fill the surrounding bleachers. Krueger had asked me earlier if I knew what I was going to do, or if I was just going to ad-lib. I said I had some ideas, but I was mostly going to ad-lib. Couldn't make it too staged, right? My heart was pounding like mad. I had ad-libbed comedy before, but drama? It couldn't be fake, they had to take this seriously. If I screwed this up, no one would get anything from it. I had to be hysterical, but not stupid.

They pulled the tarp off.

The "living dead" started screaming for 911.

I screamed for every ounce of pain I had ever felt in my entire life.

The whole scene just...it came to life instantly. Bender crawled out of the car as he was told, and stumbled over to the other car to see if they were alright. There was an electric cord that had fallen on the car, so he fell back as if he had been electricuted. The rest of the scene he had to play unconscience. Spencer had to act drunk, so he didn't say much. He just looked around blankly. Zack was the other dead person, and Elisha had a leg laceration, so she just sat in the back seat. Krueger was "unconscience" next to me. I screamed for Bender, I screamed for Krueger, and I screamed for help. I started crying. I started hyperventilating. Neither were real at first, but after awhile, it became real. It was so surreal; everything was a blur. I recognized the officers that ran to our car; with dad's job, you pretty much get to know everyone on the department. Their reactions when they got to me made it really difficult not to break character. Schydel kept repeating "m'am, calm down, everything will be alright." I didn't, of course. If it were a real accident, would some cop be able to order you to calm down, when you just saw one friend get electrocuted, and the other is nearly dead next to you? I think not.

They took me away on a stretcher, in an ambulance, next to the dying Mrs. Krueger. They never really told me when I had to stop acting, and I couldn't see where I was with the neck brace, so when the nurses were asking me what hurt, I told them my fake injuries.

"My head hurts a lot...and my arm's cut...and I think I did something to my knee..."

"Your knee?"

"Yeah, my left one."

"Wait, seriously?"

Pause.

"Um...no, it's a part of the-"

"Oh, I thought you actually hurt yourself!"

We joked on the way to the hospital, Krueger once again very much alive. Then the camera crew showed up and we had to put on the act again. The doctors thought I was going to pass out, so I've heard. After the filming was done there, we waited for Mrs. Derenne to pick us up in the FFA van. We waited awhile, and when we were in the waiting room, a little girl came in with her mom. She looked petrified of us. Bender waved. I hit him. The girl hid. I wanted to walk back to school (it's only a block away from where we were) but they wouldn't let us. They obviously didn't realize when dressing me up like a zombie does for me. I wanted to walk around public places, darn it! But they wouldn't let me. So I did the robot for Brennon's camera instead.

I guess all of it worked. At least, from what I've heard so far. Kim said "I was fine all day, even when Alex was walking around as a dead person. Then you started screaming. Then I lost it. Why do you have to be so damn good at acting?" Dani said "You used your powers for evil. I hate you." Mom and Dad said they were glad the fire trucks were so loud, because they saw me screaming, but if they heard it, they would have ran over. Abby said that she heard me scream all the way from Daley's classroom during English, which is all the way on the other side of the block from where we conducted the scene.

I hope it all worked. I hope some people learned. I hope now Kewaunee understands.

My Mouth Is Going to Get Me Into Trouble

In my AP English class, my teacher and I are...less than polite to one another. In fact, because of an event I am about to relay to you now, I have decided I should no longer drink coffee before this class. It tends to make me lose control of my mouth.

Before class, I had consumed 5 1/2 cups of coffee. The effects of this made me forget what I was saying, and to whom. And how loud. Said teacher (whom we will now refer to as Satan) talks about being drunk, or drinking, or drinking parties, with students all the time. Satan had said that her and her friends used to play a game in which they would pick a verb or adjective and come up with as many synonyms as possible. This time they picked the word "drunk." Satan said her parents used to call it "being tight", but that didn't make sense to her, because she liked the term "loose" because it made more sense to her, because she said that's how people were when they were drunk.

Without thinking AT ALL I replied thus:

"Well, you would know."

You should have seen the death fire in her eyes. Luckily, Avery's friend Paul from Pensacola was there, so she quickly laughed, said "You are a stupid girl. You forget I still have control of your grades for 6 more weeks. You really are stupid."

That is why my mouth is going to get me into trouble, and that is why I should not drink that much coffee.

I know I've been posting some really short entries lately, but I'm sorry, this is going to be another one, because I wasn't even planning to post at all today. But this is funny. I am doing a scholarship search on The Princeton Review right now, and I got to the "Hobbies and Talents" menu. This is what I read when I got to the "Es".

Entrepeneur

Entrepeneurship

Environment

Environment Activities

Epilepsy

Now, please, class, can you tell me which one doesn't fit?

Happy Belated B-Day to Me

Yay! I'm 18 + 1 day!

Fun Fact

Did you know that liquid coffee molds?



I sure didn't.

Idiots

There's a bomb threat at school. It was found yesterday, in the boys bathroom.

Girls' room = gun threat (last year)

Boys' room = bomb threat

They cancelled all after-school activities yesterday and today, and cancelled our choir concert. Meg and I are trying to reschedule some soccer practices for the team. It's not working out too well. Either there are people not coming to school until the threat is gone, or our equipment is moved because of the searches.

On a positive note, we're watching "Hero" in advanced video production. That's one of my favorite movies out of about a billion. Hooray!

Judson it is!

It's nice to have finally made a decision now.

Higgle

For some reason, not that I care for an explanation really, but for some reason I have been filled with unexplainable joy lately. Which is awesome. Maybe it's 'cause I unplugged my TV. Maybe it's because I've made amends with the fact that I just plain suck at math. Maybe it's because my monologue for forensics rocks this year, and I realized that even being a chorus girl gives me the same rush playing the lead does. Who knows? Who cares?