Thoughts and Random Things

August 8th 2017 Rant

It's night. Here I lay, looking like shit: hair an unsalvageable mess, two annoying pimples dotting my cheek, dark circles under my eyes, etc. Yet my eyebrows--two dark, nicely shaped little blessings on my face--look killer, even without a spot of makeup. Really.

I guess the real reason I'm writing this is because I simply want to put my feelings into writing right about now. Not that I've been going through much lately, but it's good to keep an emotional log, right?

Summer is coming to an end. Tomorrow I volunteer at the library for probably the last time. Sunday I go away for vacation for a week. The week after that is band camp, which I'm weirdly thrilled for--I think it's just my shriveled-up social skills screaming for contact with other humans, please, or else they'll die. They can hold on for two more weeks, I hope.

In dance, there are two types of people: leaders and followers. I never wanted to be a follower--I don't have the right light, womanly shape--and besides, I'm not the girliest person in general. A random stranger could take one look at me and decide I'm just not meant to be a follower. A trained professional dance instructor, however, apparently thinks I'd be a great follower. The thing is, though, I'm not. I'm not a great follower--in fact, I can hardly follow at all. Is following really that hard?, I hear you ask.

And that's the thing. It's not supposed to be hard. All you have to do is move your feet the right way and let your partner pull and push and spin and twirl you.

I can't twirl. I can twirl another person, but I wasn't meant to be spun around while holding hands with a still, judging person. I complained loud and clear that I'd much rather be leading the dance, but the instructor either didn't hear me or just acted like he didn't. At the end of the lesson, he hadn't even bothered to teach me how to lead, meanwhile every other girl in the studio knew how to both lead and follow.

My mom was voted to be the marching band's new treasurer (woah, déjà vu for a minute there), and now the house is full of boxes full of paperwork. It's stressing Mom out. She has to get up at 7 tomorrow morning to transport more boxes, and still be at her job by nine. She needs this upcoming vacation. This year she said she'd actually go in the pool--she hasn't in the past years because she didn't like how she looked in a swimsuit. She and I went bathing suit shopping the other night and I was so happy she was excited about picking out a new suit.

I have until ~Friday to finish Macbeth, start and finish The Color Purple, and do my summer assignment. Rn it's 11:30 PM on Tuesday. If I finish Macbeth and start Purple tomorrow, finish Purple on Thursday, and work all day Friday, I can probably get it all done. Worst case scenario, I work while on vacation. It'd suck, but I could do it if it was necessary.

Anyway, those are all my concerns atm. I hope when I volunteer tomorrow they don't make me use scissors. Your hands start to cramp after using scissors for hours straight.

Goodnight boyos