Letters from Greece... that I didn't send
Hello love-
I'm writing tis from the CDG airport, and I just facebooked you a few minutes ago. And yes, I just used "facebook" as a verb.
You probably won't read this until I get home, but it's mostly the thought that counts, right?
You know what newspaper I want to have delivered to my house? The International Herald Tribune. It's printed by the New York Times. But I really think that it's the most relevant newspaper I've seen.
Have you heard the song "Green Eyes", by Coldplay? As a fellow green-eyed girl, I think you'd appreciate it.
S yes. Now we're on the plane. We're in business class, easily distinguished from economy by the table-like aparatus that folds down over the middle seat in every row in the place of a third passenger. I usually like the aisle seats because they tend to feel less clastrophobic than other seats, but I'm by the window and I'm excited for what I'm thinking could very well be a beautiful view.
Oh, I met a boy! His name is Neville; he's a tall French boy in his 20's who works at the Park Hyatt in Paris. He has charmingly bright blue-green eyes and a darling British-sounding accent when he speaks English. He helped me with my luggage this morning.
You know what song makes me feel "honey"? (Check with me for clarification of terms). Panic! At the Disco, I think it's called, "Lying Is The Most Fun A Girl Can Have Without Taking Her Clothes Off". I'm listening to my ipod right now. Well not anymore, becaue we're preparing to take off. Which makes it pretty bumpy, which makes writing htis pretty difficult. So I'm going to take a break until we're flying high.
Well we're over Greece now. We were supposed to have a layover of over 2 hours in Athens, but this flight was delayed an hour and there's an hour time difference here, so now we're going to have to rush to make it on time.
Oh darling, I'm sorry you didn't get the part you wanted. I know how that feels all too well. But don't let anyone's cast list define you. As much as you do become it in a weird way, you are not your part. Besides, some of the most fun I've ever had was when I was in ther ensemble. I've made some of my closest friends that way.
I dout this is very serious or extremely Upsetting to you, and I'm probably partially reacting to my own past emotions and sympathies. I do have som actress in my heart, so I seem to be a bit dramatic about matters regarding the stage and things in close proximity to it. There were times I got a too set on a role or placement and a little too disapointed with my casting, or lack there of. But yoou live and learn; I always learned something from it or gained an determination or passion or sense of realization or clarity. And it's part of the job.
You know, I think I fancy myself a princess sometimes. Or not a princess, precisely. More a mixture of princess, daring herione, engenue, fairy, mythological goddess, and romanic lead- which I suppose is practically the same thing as engenue. I almost can't believe I just wrote that. I sound so vain and self-important. And maybe I am. I mean, I've been told a few times that my glasses are a shade too rosy and a little to bright to be realistic or quite condusive to my own good. And though this isn't really a matter of optimism, I'd say it could be a matter of idealizing and romanticizing, and a small multitude of other things that I struggle with. Something I really struggle with is balance. Relating to this case, I often disgust myself. I hate myself. I fear that I'm nothing, and I feel like I KNOW I'm nothing special. I won't use the vrious unflattering words and terms I could and have used to describe myself.
And I'm not insolent or percocious enough to truly believe and think all of those lovely and brave and good things about myslef. I want to, I suppose. But I suppose most girls want to. But I am struck with reality. In glaring daylight, in full-lenght mirrors, in burning eyes, in the weight pressed down upon me and in defeated normalcy, reality clutches at me and tries to sink them. But at night while I"m thinking up delightful daydreams to replace the ones I so rarely remember while I sleep, in the galloping of a horse, gliding under a cool wave, in a stolen glance of my own eyes in the dege of a small mirror, and in the sky, my imagination is alive and my dreams are delightful.
Well, we're taking off for a quick flight to Mykonos, after a mad dash through the Athens airport. I suppose this letter is lengthy, and after I'm done admiring the island veiw, I should try to work on my homework or write a letter to someone else.
I love you terribly, and I miss you.
God Bless, baby.
Muah!
I'm writing tis from the CDG airport, and I just facebooked you a few minutes ago. And yes, I just used "facebook" as a verb.
You probably won't read this until I get home, but it's mostly the thought that counts, right?
You know what newspaper I want to have delivered to my house? The International Herald Tribune. It's printed by the New York Times. But I really think that it's the most relevant newspaper I've seen.
Have you heard the song "Green Eyes", by Coldplay? As a fellow green-eyed girl, I think you'd appreciate it.
S yes. Now we're on the plane. We're in business class, easily distinguished from economy by the table-like aparatus that folds down over the middle seat in every row in the place of a third passenger. I usually like the aisle seats because they tend to feel less clastrophobic than other seats, but I'm by the window and I'm excited for what I'm thinking could very well be a beautiful view.
Oh, I met a boy! His name is Neville; he's a tall French boy in his 20's who works at the Park Hyatt in Paris. He has charmingly bright blue-green eyes and a darling British-sounding accent when he speaks English. He helped me with my luggage this morning.
You know what song makes me feel "honey"? (Check with me for clarification of terms). Panic! At the Disco, I think it's called, "Lying Is The Most Fun A Girl Can Have Without Taking Her Clothes Off". I'm listening to my ipod right now. Well not anymore, becaue we're preparing to take off. Which makes it pretty bumpy, which makes writing htis pretty difficult. So I'm going to take a break until we're flying high.
Well we're over Greece now. We were supposed to have a layover of over 2 hours in Athens, but this flight was delayed an hour and there's an hour time difference here, so now we're going to have to rush to make it on time.
Oh darling, I'm sorry you didn't get the part you wanted. I know how that feels all too well. But don't let anyone's cast list define you. As much as you do become it in a weird way, you are not your part. Besides, some of the most fun I've ever had was when I was in ther ensemble. I've made some of my closest friends that way.
I dout this is very serious or extremely Upsetting to you, and I'm probably partially reacting to my own past emotions and sympathies. I do have som actress in my heart, so I seem to be a bit dramatic about matters regarding the stage and things in close proximity to it. There were times I got a too set on a role or placement and a little too disapointed with my casting, or lack there of. But yoou live and learn; I always learned something from it or gained an determination or passion or sense of realization or clarity. And it's part of the job.
You know, I think I fancy myself a princess sometimes. Or not a princess, precisely. More a mixture of princess, daring herione, engenue, fairy, mythological goddess, and romanic lead- which I suppose is practically the same thing as engenue. I almost can't believe I just wrote that. I sound so vain and self-important. And maybe I am. I mean, I've been told a few times that my glasses are a shade too rosy and a little to bright to be realistic or quite condusive to my own good. And though this isn't really a matter of optimism, I'd say it could be a matter of idealizing and romanticizing, and a small multitude of other things that I struggle with. Something I really struggle with is balance. Relating to this case, I often disgust myself. I hate myself. I fear that I'm nothing, and I feel like I KNOW I'm nothing special. I won't use the vrious unflattering words and terms I could and have used to describe myself.
And I'm not insolent or percocious enough to truly believe and think all of those lovely and brave and good things about myslef. I want to, I suppose. But I suppose most girls want to. But I am struck with reality. In glaring daylight, in full-lenght mirrors, in burning eyes, in the weight pressed down upon me and in defeated normalcy, reality clutches at me and tries to sink them. But at night while I"m thinking up delightful daydreams to replace the ones I so rarely remember while I sleep, in the galloping of a horse, gliding under a cool wave, in a stolen glance of my own eyes in the dege of a small mirror, and in the sky, my imagination is alive and my dreams are delightful.
Well, we're taking off for a quick flight to Mykonos, after a mad dash through the Athens airport. I suppose this letter is lengthy, and after I'm done admiring the island veiw, I should try to work on my homework or write a letter to someone else.
I love you terribly, and I miss you.
God Bless, baby.
Muah!