Anytime You Need a Friend (81/90)

Darn, I got home 12 minutes later than I wanted for this post.

The reason for my tardiness is because I was at Anna's house, jumping on her trampoline and sitting around a fire. It was the usual suspects: Anna, Krista, Chelsea, Brendan, Brandon, and myself. We've been dubbed "The Disney Group," and make a point to try and get together every time we're home. Usually there's Smash Bros. involved. Over the summers there's a lake house trip. We've been doing this for four years now.

The reason we're "The Disney Group" is because we all got to know each other in Disney. During my junior year, the top three jazz bands at Neuqua got to go to Walt Disney World to participate in a jazz clinic. They invite bands from around the country to come in, play with professionals, perform in a restaurant, and tour the grounds. Neuqua has made this a tradition to go every two years, I believe, and I was lucky enough to try out for jazz that year.

I had already known Brendan through mutual friends of ours, and we were pretty close before this. I knew Krista from marching band, and Brandon from PJ. I was finally in a band where I felt appreciated. Not only was I in one of the top three bands, but I was also first tenor. Which meant that I got a lot of the solos written in my part, and I couldn't switch around. My band director was my favorite, and I was happy every jazz practice.

Chelsea was in my section, and Anna was on piano. When it came time for room sign ups, I found out there were only 7 girls going. Since I knew Krista and got along with her, I decided to room with her. Chelsea, being the only freshman at the time, didn't have anyone to room with and asked to join us. So we were the room of three girls. I didn't know the other girls very well; they were in different bands through school or from choir.

I was nervous to go to Disney, not only because I would have a solo, but also because there weren't too many people I'd know. But on the bus ride to the airport that President's Day weekend, Krista, Chelsea, Brendan, and I started talking a lot. I got to know them, and genuinely liked them. My nerves were leaving me.

I stuck around Krista, Chelsea, and Brendan. I had a crush on Nick, who was also on the trip and friends with Brendan. I met Anna through the girls Nick was friends with, and Anna slowly disengaged herself from that group and toured the parks with us. Brandon, being one of Brendan's best friends, also walked with us. I got to know them all a lot better and quicker than I would have in jazz practices.

That weekend is still one of my favorite weekends of my life, not just of high school. I met a great group of friends and got a break from the drama that was going on at home. I had an escape from the mess with PJ, and I didn't have to deal with Zack at the time. All I had to worry about was getting everywhere on time, and not screwing up my solo. And I met an amazing group of people.

We all have different personalities. Brandon never misses an opportunity to poke fun at anyone, especially Anna. Brendan might be one of the sweetest guys I've ever met. Chelsea, being the youngest, is the most naive, but brings a freshness to the group. Krista is calm, cool, and collected. Anna carries herself with poise and has a thirst to live. And there's me, the quiet observer who tries to throw her two cents in when she thinks it's relevant.

Even though we really don't talk during the school year, since we're all in different places in our lives and schools, I know that every summer nothing will have changed. Sure, we'll have new stories to tell each other, new events in our lives to catch up on, but in the end all we really want to do is sit around a fire, roast some marshmallows, and enjoy each others' company.

And then kill each other in Smash Bros.

Sweet Child O' Mine (80/90)

I'm home! No more beach!

And, once again, I'm staring at the screen with nothing floating through my mind to write about. Although I did just hear that there is now a video game out for "The Bachelor." That's not really much to write about, except that I think it's a ridiculous idea. If you're interested, you can read up on it here. From here it looks like "The Sims" with more recognizable names, and not as much fun.

I realized something this vacation, though. I'm not as bad with kids as I thought I was. At least, not with younger ones. I found myself actually playing with my nephew, instead of ignoring him or pretending to be engrossed in something else. It might be because he's an adorable child, or it could be because he makes noises that almost sound like he's talking, but you don't really have to pretend to be interested in what he says.

Here's the thing: I normally don't like kids. I don't want to be in their presence for hours on end. I think they're adorable, yes. But I just don't see the appeal of always having one around. Newborns need constant attention, and cry and smell a lot. I hear they don't sleep too well either. Then you hit one year, like my nephew, and they start teething, so there's not a lot of sleep with that.

After that, they start talking. And about mundane things, like what color their shirt is or something. I'm not sure, I try not to be around kids a lot. After that, there's potty training and school. While you do get a variety of stories from them when they get into school, it's still simple things about how recess was canceled because of the rain so they stayed inside and played Heads Up Seven Up all period.

I think about middle school is when I could deal with them, possibly. But that's when the hormones start to kick in. High school is even worse, the hormones are on alert all the time. But that's about the time when you can have intelligent conversations with them, so it's not too bad. And then they're not kids anymore.

Because of all those reasons, I've opted not to try to be a teacher. I could probably only deal with teaching seniors, because anything younger would probably be too much for my patience to handle 9 months of the year. And, to extend it, I used these reasons when I was thinking about if in the distant future I want to have kids.

I go back and forth on it a lot. Before, my main motivation to have children was so I could name them. I should probably have a better reason to have a kid then that. I just don't think that I could deal with kids. People say that it's different once you have your own, but I'm not too sure if I believe it.

But when I was watching my nephew this weekend, I could deal with him. It could be because he's at that adorable stage where he doesn't really do anything. Or it could be because he can't talk yet, so that was someone I didn't have to listen to this weekend. Maybe it's because he's my nephew, though. Which could mean that if I can deal with a relative's child, then maybe they're right.

Maybe I will have kids, then.

Pictures of You (79/90)

We went shopping today.

I'm tired. I've either been in a car or walking around all day. It seems like this whole vacation has been about everyone else, and what I've wanted to do hasn't been taken into account. I really don't have much going on in my brain tonight, though. We'll see what happens with this post. I don't really have any reserve ideas left.

Nothing's really coming to mind though, and I've been sitting here for about five minutes while staring at my screen. I spent most of my day catching up with my half-sisters, so there hasn't been any really stimulating conversation, just the goings-on of our lives. And I've been with the rest of my family for the rest of the time, so there's really nothing new there either.

One of my sisters wanted to try to model for this clothing store called Torrid. There's one back home, and both she and my dad wanted me to go for it as well. There were a few things wrong with that idea, though. One, I wasn't really dressed for the part. And two, I can't really fit into anything in the store. The smallest sizes in there are too big on me.

I'm not sure if my sister realized that, or even thought about it, but I deflected her by saying that I wasn't prepared and there wasn't one at school. In reality, though, I wouldn't be able to fit into whatever I was supposed to be modeling. Not to gloat or anything like that, but it makes no sense for me to try to enter this contest when the models and I clearly have two different body types.

Not that I wouldn't like to model eventually. I'd much like to do that, if I had the chance. But with school and not having a car, it makes it hard to try and pursue that idea. Another thing is that my body is about three different sizes, depending on what part we're talking about. My chest is plus-sized, my waist is normal, and my bottom half is average. I could possibly do commercial work, if I could find a catalog to take me in.

But I'm thinking of pursuing this idea next summer, if I get a chance. Depending on where I do my internship, I may be close to some companies who need a spare. And once I start making some money at my job this school year, I'll probably head into a portrait studio and get some head shots done. At the very least, I'll have them for myself, if I don't pass them out.

But I'd really like it if I could get booked. It's something I've wanted for at least four years.

Why Worry (78/90)

Traveled, sat at the beach some more, and saw some family.

I've had a lot of time to think today, since I've done nothing with my time. But it was a lot of passing thoughts, none of which I could really write a complete entry on. And I feel compelled to write a nice entry tonight, since last night's really wasn't up to par.

I've noticed something before, but never really thought about why I do it. I'm someone who always needs a situation to worry about, no matter how trivial it actually is. I can take a simple situation and blow it out of proportion just from thinking about it too much. And a good part of the time, whatever I'm thinking about really isn't something that deserves that much thought.

I think I just need to have something to think about. I'm not content unless I have something to worry about. I worried about what was going to happen over the summer in regards to college relationships months before the summer holidays, and about seemingly innocent sentences I've heard around my house. I'm a worrier, I know, but sometimes it's a bit ridiculous.

This vacation hasn't been any different. In fact, it's one thing about myself that I haven't attempted to change. It's something that keeps me sane and gives me something to do with my downtime. It's something that I can bring up in conversation with my friends when it seems like we've run out of things to talk about. It's something that will stick with me until I find something else to worry about.

I don't really mind it, in the long run. That's probably why I haven't tried to improve on it. But it's funny to think about, since that's all I've been doing. I've had this single situation to worry about since the end of May, and it seems like I'll have to make a concrete decision and follow through with it in about a month. I'm not sure if I want to let go of the worry yet, because I haven't found something else to replace it with.

I've got some smaller situations that have been at the back of my mind, but they really don't have much of an impact on my life as much as the situation does. So I can't cycle them to the front of my mind as the major situation I have to deal with, worry about, and stress over. I'm not sure what I'll do once this thing comes to a head, because I haven't got a clue what my new worry's going to be. But maybe that's a good thing. Maybe I'll be able to have a few days without any worries, and learn how to just live without being scared of consequences.

More than likely I'll end up finding something to worry about from that situation, though.

Ocean Avenue (77/90)

I spent the whole day at the beach.

The beach isn't really for me. I mean, I like the sand, and the ocean. That stuff is cool. But laying there for hours on end, doing absolutely nothing, isn't my cup of tea. Sure, I brought things to do. But it seems like after awhile you either get too hot or too cold, and have to adjust to bring yourself back to a more comfortable temperature. And then you see everyone else with their perfect bodies, trying to get the perfect tan, and you wonder what else there is to do at the beach.

I was going to write about how frustrating it is being at the beach, surrounded by the perfect bodies and not having one for yourself. I was going to bitch and moan about how having that perfect beach body seems to be a requirement for everyone in my age group when they go to the beach. I was going to start hating on myself once again.

But now I don't want to. Probably because I've been thinking about this since we first set out from the house, about 12 hours ago. And I was next going to write about how I prefer to be cold rather than hot, because I just can't deal with heat very well. And there's only so much you can take off when you're hot; you can usually put more on then take off. But I realized that there's not much else you can say on that topic.

I thought being at the beach would inspire me to write something. But so far all it's done is make me feel worthless. I mean, it's beautiful to look at, but the picture is marred when you see all the people on it. The power behind the waves is inspiring, but nothing has come from watching them break onto each other. The people on the beach were off in their own worlds, not talking to anyone who wasn't in their original group. Most of the females were trying to tan; a lot of the guys were smoking. The kids were playing in the sand or walking into the waves.

I didn't want to be on the beach these past few days. I almost feel like it's let me down. So has this post. I apologize.

Your Urge (76/90)

We spent about three hours at the beach today. I traveled for about five hours. I haven't done much but sleep and be lazy.

When we got to the beach, I didn't know what to do. I had slept for the ride down, so I couldn't sleep any more. I had a book I tried to read last summer, but my parents kept interrupting me with mundane beach conversation. So I laid on a towel on the beach and plugged my iPod in. I was going to try to write, but nothing was coming out. I just laid down and thought about the music I was listening to.

Usually before I go somewhere or about halfway through the month I try to get a new CD from iTunes. Last night I bought Colbie Caillait's album, Breakthrough. Most of her songs were about the love that she was struggling to be with, or about the break up that was inevitable or just passed. And I just listened to those. I paid attention to the lyrics, but they didn't really mean anything to me.

And then tonight, while my family was huddled around the TV as usual, I started to erase some pictures on my camera, since we're supposed to be taking pictures. I only deleted pictures that were before Spring semester, but imagine my surprise when I realized that a lot of them had Dave in them. And then, even more surprising was the sadness that seemed to settle over me.

So to counter it, I started a conversation with one of my friends who is in a similar situation as I am. Distract myself from one potential problem with another one that was coming to a head sooner rather than later, as I previously expected. And that was the time that I wanted to write. I didn't realize it until now. I tried to talk to people to distract myself from the pull I was feeling to write.

I haven't felt the urge to write for awhile. I did have that poem, but it really was just about fireworks. I had been throwing around ideas about seeing fireworks in my head the week up to that poem. But before that, I can't remember. Writing just to get everything out, not because I have to with this, or because I should with my seven deadly sins idea.

But it's left me now. Now, I'm not sure where this post is going, and whether it's ending soon. This might just be a meaningless post, because I've already written something today on little sleep, and I'm trying to do it again. But I have learned my lesson, not to write when I'm tired. Usually it comes out the way I speak when I'm tired.

Slightly amusing, but overall a waste.

Be Safe (75/90)

The closer I get to the end of my 90 the more often it seems I have to make up entries.

I'm writing this from the sky. Hand-writing this. It's been awhile since I've had to write anything by hand, and you can tell. My writing is worse than usual. I'm writing from a plane because our flight left at 8 this morning, and I went swing dancing last night. And the reason it's being done about two hours before next post is because I've been without Internet access all day.

There are times when I don't enjoy flying. today is one of them. Mainly because I couldn't fall asleep last night and have a full day ahead of me. I also hate the way my ears pop, and not having space to stretch out. In fact, about the only good thing in flying is getting there sooner.

We took a taxi to get us to the airport. $50. Plus place tickets for who knows how much. I think in the end the cost of gas would equal it out. And then I could sleep and we wouldn't have to worry about leaving on time or going through security. All we'd have to deal with would be a 12 hour ride. Not too bad. Then again, I've never driven for longer than an hour at a time.

The thing that bugs me most, though, is the amount of security. Yes, I know it's for my own safety and I am grateful for it. It would be an interesting way to go out, but I'd prefer to live a little longer. But taking off shoes, belts, and jewelry can be a bit of a hassle. So can taking out your laptop.

I would normally avoid all this if I could, but some things I need. Like shoes. Everyone needs those. And there is never a time when I don't need a belt, thanks to my body type. I don't wear jewelry often. And I'm not leaving my laptop at home, or putting it in my suitcase, even if I don't use it. So I deal with all of it.

At least this time I got smart about it. I untied my shoes quickly, got my belt off without being reminded, and took out my laptop charger. The last time we traveled they had to search my gab because they couldn't tell what it was.

We've been flying for what seems like at least an hour and above the clouds now. The seatbelt sign hasn't been turned off yet, we're hitting a bit of turbulence, and I'm sleepy. It's not a big traveling weekend; I'm sure we could've driven easily. I'd like to sleep, but it's too loud. And I have nothing to entertain me, because once we land we're going to the beach and I'd like to have a charged iPod when we get there.

Maybe I'll do my mom's sudoku.