i feel like billy elliot

There's a very poignant scene at the end of Billy Elliot where he gets a letter from the ballet school and takes it into his room, reads it and then cries. It's wonderful. It's still real, yet we're left in suspense. Today, I totally relate. I got into Sheridan's musical theatre program. I know this might be the tackiest way of finding out.

I'm scared. I'm excited. What the hell is going to happen next year?

Billy: I think I'm scared, Dad.
Jackie Elliot: That's okay, son. We're all scared.
Billy: Well... if I don't like it, can I still come back?
Jackie Elliot: Are you kidding? We've let out your room.
[straight face then laughter]

i wish my life was like a 1950s musical

Then the answer to most of my problems would be to dance and sing.

mr sun!

I love the sun. Not like the California beach sun, but I love the sun when it makes the difference between being able to wear a coat or not. I love closing my eyes and feeling the warmth on my face. It's this time of year, when you're still caught up in your normal routine, but the new weather seems to put everything in a different context.

Sometimes when I write on this blog, I'm just venting about how sad I am. Sadness is a complex thing. Not to say that happy people don't think as much, but when you're sad and you're not sure why, there is certainly a lot to sift through in search for the reason.

I'd just like to let everyone know that I'm okay. All the reasons I bitch about still apply, but there are bigger things that beat them out. Like the sun.

I just have to keep that in mind while I deal with people I don't understand, life decisions, school work, and boys.

Thought of the day: I wish I was a poet so people would listen to me.

how to hurt me

I've found that there is a certain way that people always can get me. Just follow the following steps:
1. Disagree with me.
2. By seeming completely logical and in control:
- Make me feel stupid and unreasonable for offering a differing opinion.
- Make me feel stupid and unreasonable for having a differing opinion.
If you succeed, I'll walk away thinking I did something wrong and that I'm a bad person.

You probably need to be a certain type of person - the type of person who I could probably respect, with good opinions. This horrible thing about this is that these people don't seem like assholes and bitches! In fact, they seem like friends! If you're able to be my friend, first - if you're able to be someone I trust - these steps become 550% more effective!

Maybe if I was a little less proud, these steps wouldn't be as effective. Maybe if I wasn't as insecure as I am, this wouldn't bother me.

I hate that I let people get to me. It's funny - while I do have the longings of a young girl to be loved, sometimes I feel like it would be easier if I was a rock.

"And a rock feels no pain,
And an island never cries."
- Simon and Garfunkel

slaying green-eyed monsters

Skule Nite is over. I worked hard and long with so many other people, and now I find that there's going to be this large gap in my life for a bit. This year, I found that Skule Nite has revealed my lowest parts to myself. I've been so tired and so annoyed and, most regrettably, I've found that I've been so jealous.

I once heard a preacher say that being jealous was a sin because you are refusing to rejoice with others in their blessings. Sounds pretty bad, eh? But what if you can't help it?!

I tried for a long time to just ignore my feelings, but it didn't work. They bubbled to the surface in ways that I couldn't imagine. So what's left? - Accept your feelings. But then I feel like such a horrible person because of these incredibly petty responses and the even pettier ways they bubbled to the surface.

A friend told me that it is ridiculous to be upset with the way you feel - emotions are usually completely reasonable. I suppose the trick is to not let your jealousy get in the way of loving people. (I'd rather learn to juggle.)

Shouldn't I be changing, though? Shouldn't I be beyond these grade five emotions? I thought the deal was transformation, but in many ways, I still feel like a child.

When getting communion today, I prayed that I would change, but, in the meanwhile, be okay with who I am. It's hard to deal with a broken world, especially when that broken world is inside of you.

Good night, my friends. Tomorrow, everything will be new again.

naive security

So I have this dream, this fantasy - to be a musical theatre performer, an actor, even. I hope to attend theatre school. After a really good audition, I began, slowly to let people know of my plans. Before this, I had too many conversations like this:

"So what are you next year?"
"I don't know."
"No grad school?"
"No!"
"I guess you're getting a job."
"Yeah, I guess I should look then."

So, to a few groups of people, I've been telling them of my aspirations. It's a little scary. You never really know what people are thinking. Sometimes it's "Oh! That's really cool! You're a cool person!" or it's "Maybe I can do that too!". I love those responses. But sometimes I feel the response is more like, "Do you know what the hell you're getting into?" Those are hard to deal with - I'm unsure whether it's because I haven't really thought about this question, or I think about it too much.


I feel like this dynamic duo: Mindy and Buttons. You know the story (if not, educate yourself). I kinda feel like Mindy - too young to understand danger. But the Thing is Mindy is always safe! Buttons always takes care of her. She never gets hurt, because while she's naively climbing skyscrapers, Buttons has got her back. This is how I want to feel - safe even in naivety. Often we're scared because we don't know enough, but today I want to be happy that I don't know anything, except that some cosmic dog has got my back.

wanting to be heard, not wanting to speak

Bea, Bea, wonderful Bea sent me an email yesterday. As my heart fluttered in joy, I was a little worried because the beginning was quite serious.

"uhm. Esther. this is something I actually have been meaning to ask you for some time..."

Pretty intense, right? Does she need a kidney? Does she want me to send her Canadian drugs? Is she going to ask me out?!?

Turns out, Bea, in her masterfully tactful way, was asking me if she could link my blog on hers. For some reason* she thought that I might be uncomfortable with it. To be honest, I'm not sure if I am or not. On one hand I want people to know me, to see what I'm thinking. On the other hand, I don't want to people to read it and judge me - think I'm too naive or trying too hard or being too religious.

I guess it's like what Julia was talking about: vulnerability. I posted on my church message board that "Blogging [was] like running around naked. It might be inappropriate, but, you know, some people just gotta." I have a feeling that was totally inappropriate, and I thought I heard crickets laugh in Christian cyberspace. I've mentioned this before: I want to be heard, but I don't want to say anything.

I want people to read this. I want people to know who I am. I'm just totally afraid of being so tacky with neediness. Many of you reading this are my friends to whom I've casually mentioned the existence of this blog. Some of you are my friends who I don't know read this, and found this by some other secret avenue. And maybe some of you are strangers. Well, welcome, whoever you are. I hope you see something honest here.



*That reason being the contents of many entries on my blog.

men are dogs (metaphorically)

I think I have a phobia for dogs. I want to be like the people I know who like dogs - you know, they're always bright and energetic - and I really try. I approach stranger's dogs and pet my friend's dogs, but every once in a while, there's this moment when I freak out and think the dog is going to get angry and bite me and there won't be anything I can do because kicking a dog is wrong.

I think this is, generally, like my attitude towards boys. I will happily name off my many husbands, I can often be found claiming that I'm 'in love' with... well, anyone, but as soon as there's any hint of returned interest, I freak out. I think I may have an irrational fear of relationships. I mean, don't get me wrong - I don't want to be alone. Like the dog phobia, I do want dates and flings and romance, the whole cake, but I'm also afraid.

It's pretty weird. I often find myself going so far as to make sure that the guys I liked thought the opposite. It's understandable to want to ensure that guy friends you definitely don't like don't get the wrong message, but with the rest? I'm messed up.

As I've declared 2006 The Year Without Fear, I have decided to not be afraid of being the object of anyone's interest - kind of like the woman in this article, but to a smaller extent.

And do you know what? Maybe it was totally egotistical to think that I was in danger of being liked. So I really had nothing to be afraid of in the first place! Score! ... wait...