It might seem meaningless to you -- but it means everything to me
For the record. I love "Rocky Horror." It was a bit like old times, minus the "serious" rules (WTF) and the like. I love it. I love it and sometimes am just very, very happy to have it. And Vesna never called me...I asked her today and she said that her sisters weren't up for it and Nahir never called her. Boo. But Chelsie wasn't on stage or on tech, so we all sat together (me, Chels, Mollie, and Lauren). It was familiar, it was safe, it was lovely.
I've been 'working' on my 'speech' for tomorrow. Sucks. I hate it. I don't want to. I really don't.
My aunt Lynne brought her dog Hunter over to my grandparents' house today, and Cameron was there too. I really largely despise the majority of my mother's family. I tolerate them, and their gigantic overenthusiastic smelly dogs, but Cam and I are kind of close. Poor kid. I drove him home so I could play him the Matt Skiba/little kids singing "Rock and Roll High School." I think he's all excited to go to school tomorrow and tell all his friends. Oh god, what have I done?
Speaking of. It's stupid, but the other day I just, like, looked at that picture of me with the Skiba from last November. It's in the collage I made. On the wall. Because I'm awesome. But anyway, I saw it and for once, I think, I was really seeing it. I felt it. I felt the bitter Cambridge cold and heard the ringing in my ears, felt his arm on my shoulder and remembered the rough jacket against my cheek as I tried ever-so-subtly to just get as close as I could. Then I almost burst into tears, and it was one of the most brilliant things that's happened to me lately.
I need to realize that things will not be perfect and that I cannot win everyone over, and I need to be okay with that. I reckon I like to think that I am, but it's never really been hard for me to fake it. I should probably come clean. But it's one thing to be honest with myself and another thing entirely to do the same thing with everyone else. It's far easier to just have everyone thing I'm awesome. Aren't I? Thought so.
Stupid speech. Goddamnit!
There's so much to do and so much to worry about. I don't want to think about it. How safe is that? I'm not sure. But it's gotten me this far.
Stupid, stupid speech! Bother!
I've been 'working' on my 'speech' for tomorrow. Sucks. I hate it. I don't want to. I really don't.
My aunt Lynne brought her dog Hunter over to my grandparents' house today, and Cameron was there too. I really largely despise the majority of my mother's family. I tolerate them, and their gigantic overenthusiastic smelly dogs, but Cam and I are kind of close. Poor kid. I drove him home so I could play him the Matt Skiba/little kids singing "Rock and Roll High School." I think he's all excited to go to school tomorrow and tell all his friends. Oh god, what have I done?
Speaking of. It's stupid, but the other day I just, like, looked at that picture of me with the Skiba from last November. It's in the collage I made. On the wall. Because I'm awesome. But anyway, I saw it and for once, I think, I was really seeing it. I felt it. I felt the bitter Cambridge cold and heard the ringing in my ears, felt his arm on my shoulder and remembered the rough jacket against my cheek as I tried ever-so-subtly to just get as close as I could. Then I almost burst into tears, and it was one of the most brilliant things that's happened to me lately.
I need to realize that things will not be perfect and that I cannot win everyone over, and I need to be okay with that. I reckon I like to think that I am, but it's never really been hard for me to fake it. I should probably come clean. But it's one thing to be honest with myself and another thing entirely to do the same thing with everyone else. It's far easier to just have everyone thing I'm awesome. Aren't I? Thought so.
Stupid speech. Goddamnit!
There's so much to do and so much to worry about. I don't want to think about it. How safe is that? I'm not sure. But it's gotten me this far.
Stupid, stupid speech! Bother!