The story of my license

So today I became LEGAL!!! I have me a shiny, pretty license. Woot!!
Here’s how it went down.
I’ve spent the last I don’t know how long bugging my parents to let me get my license, so they finally relented and we decided on this Friday (today), and I’ve quietly panicked up until today, when I not-so-quietly panicked all over the place. I learned to parallel park, and didn’t learn to three-point-turn until today, when McKenzie’s angel mother lent us her little car for the test (thankyouthankyouthankyouthankyou) and I learned to three-point-turn at the park. Then we were off to the MVD or DMV… It seems like they switch names all the time. We waited in line FOREVER, I freaked out, and finally we got called! We signed a bunch of papers, and then went off to do the drive test! Well, I did anyway. Mom had to stay behind. They told me to go drive the car around the building  to the orange cones, so I drove to the orange cones, and parked comfortably in between them. Then I waited for a while. After waiting for a little bit, I started to feel stupid, thinking I should go back inside but not being sure, and then I finally gave up and went inside. I told them I drove to the orange cones, and the lady looked at me like I was some kind of idiot.
“Was I supposed to wait?” I nervously asked.
“Well, yeah.” The lady replied coolly.
“Oh. Sorry, I didn’t know.”
“Well, you should have just assumed you should stay there.” She smiled coldly, and shooed me off. Face aflame, I walked briskly back to the car. I got in, gave myself a stern talking-to, and then settled back to wait. Soon a man who looked very much like a tourist came and I performed the three-point-turn….
Perfectly! My hands were shaking like crazy and I got ready to escort him on the driving test, leaning over to open the door for him (the handle on the outside was broken) when he said,
“Uh-oh. This door is busted?”
“Yep… Why? Will that not work?” I asked shakily.
“No. Here, I’ll give you this paper, and you can go switch cars and then come back before 3:00. You passed this test, so you don’t have to do it again, but it’s a safety violation to have a broken door. Sorry.”
“That’s fine. Thank you!” I gave him a sunny smile, then sped off to the parking lot where I beautifully parked the car, then dashed inside to break the news to my mom. She was irritated, but I really didn’t care- I was too relieved that I finished that cursed turn and PASSED. So we switched cars, and I took the driving test. The test lady was really nice, and we chatted lightly as I drove expertly around a small neighborhood, finishing the test nicely. She told me I passed, gave me my papers, and I was off! I snuck a peek at my score, and…
I GOT 100%!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I was NOT expecting that at all. I knew I’d pass, but with flying colors?? Way better than I initially thought.
I said a quick prayer of thanks, then fairly pranced over to my adoring mother and told her the joyous news. Then, I got my license! Signed, sealed, and picture-perfect!

 Ain’t it just PURTY??


Funny things my siblings have been saying as of late.

Maybe there’s something in the water, but my siblings have been saying pretty silly things recently. Here’s some of them:

  • While on a walk Sunday, I was talking with Lincoln and he was talking his usual scattered chatter, about this and that, and then he asks, “Why are people bad?” I answered, “People aren’t all bad, sometimes they just make bad decisions. He piped up with: “Yeah, like when people put sticks in their mouths and say ‘hey, let’s light this on fire!!’ Who DOES that??!”
  • Last night at Fuddruckers, Licy and Savannah were watching the TV that was mounted on the wall, which was playing sports, as usual. They had just found out that the Suns play basketball, when Licy asked “So, do the Diamondbacks, like, play soccer?” -By the way, Savannah has requested that I clarify: SHE knew the Suns played basketball. I was mistaken. Sorry.
  • And finally, this afternoon (just a few minutes ago, actually) I walked into Savannah’s room to complain about my wrist (I have no idea what I did to it, but it KILLS), and I noticed she had a sheet of paper with “Hunger Games Deaths” Written over the top with a column of names running down one side, a “District” column in the middle, and a “Death” column on the far right. I asked her what she was doing, and she replied, “I’m making a list of my friend’s deaths in The Hunger Games”. “Why?” I asked her. “Because it’s entertaining!” Savannah said. She has a bit of an obsession, no?
I love my siblings- they keep me laughing.

An exciting new development.

Well, folks, even if I’m not IN a play right now, doesn’t mean I can’t WRITE one.
Story? Oh, very well.
Wednesday(?), my aunt Theresa extended a tantalizing offer to Geneal and I, which was this:
Write a play, get paid $100 for it. That’s $50 each! And for doing something that I love, too! Woo hoo!
So we are writing a version of The Princess and the Pea, and it’s going so great so far! I absolutely LOVE writing, and now I am doing a real play! It’s easier than I thought it would be, probably because Theresa gave us a basic outline- but still, it’s so, so great. And I really need the money, so it’s a great deal. She’s also going to have us write a few more plays, so that’s even more money in our pockets. It’s actually a pretty funny show thus far. I think she’ll like it.
Gah, did I mention how much fun I am having writing this? It’s totally awesome. :^)
Maybe I’ll post a preview of the play sometime!
In other news, I disappointingly enough did NOT get my license this week, but SOON, MY MINIONS. SOON. I am craving independence soo bad right now it’s crazy.


Music feature of the week.

Okay, in order to dispel the awfully gloomy post that I previously wrote, I am introducing a new feature on my blog that I’m quite happy about!
Every week I will do a special music spotlight, whether it’s the latest song in my head, or an artist I like, or some free music you should snatch up RIGHT NOW before it’s too late. So here we go!

This is kind of an odd song- it took me about three listens to get into it, really, because her voice isn’t “pretty”, and there’s not really a rhythm at all. It’s one of those I-can’t-decide-if-I-like-it-or-completely-loathe-it song, but the video is charming, and after a while the song becomes catchy to the point of it getting stuck in your head for a while. My only regret is it’s not on iTunes, of I would definitely have it right now.


Still not over it.

Dec. 3rd. 8:30 AM.
Shaking, tired, nervous, ready. 
That’s how my audition for Seven Brides… Went. I did AWESOME. Best audition I think I’ve done in a while.
Didn’t get it.
Three months later I still can’t think about that play without feeling sick and depressed. I feel like such a snob, thinking I should have gotten in, and feeling bitter and sour whenever any of my classmates/teachers bring it up. The worst part?
They’re thinking of doing it at the MAC this year- first year they’ve ever had a play there.
And I’m not going to be onstage, sharing in the excitement.
I’m trying so hard not to be a diva, but stifling all these emotions hurts too much, and I need to talk to someone about it- trouble is, nobody’s here and I don’t want to make them listen to my sob-story. So I’ll just write it here and hope someone has patience enough to read it.
One reason this kills me so much is that in seventh grade, I made a goal to be in every production until I graduated. Well, so much for that goal. I hate not being able to follow up on my goals and aspirations! It feels like I’ve failed miserably, and that is a feeling that’s downright awful.
I know I should be grateful for what I have, and yeah I was Seussical, and yeah I was nominated for a Zoni, but I miss the Heritage experience- the closeness you feel in the cast, the inside jokes that last, and being able to crack play jokes all the time. Not to mention, with AYT there’s going to be people you never see again, but with a school play you see them EVERY DAY.
I am going to miss the shared excited glances during play week, when every day during announcements cast members advertise the play, and I’m going to miss the crappy stage makeup we have to wear, and I’m going to miss costume fittings. I am just generally suffering, here!
I don’t even want to see the play. Am I a bum or what? I hate myself for admitting it, because I know I should be all gung-ho and excited to support my fellow actors, but it’s like rubbing it in my face! I don’t want to be in the audience! I don’t want to pretend I’m enjoying it!
I know that I’ll probably end up going, and I’ll probably love it, and I won’t regret seeing it, but guess what? This is how I feel right now.
Depression sucks. Period.
I’m going to be done with my diva rant right now. I hope I haven’t tarnished your view of me as a performer- because, yes, I DO get bitter when I don’t make it into things. So there.


Blissfully clean

So I have a confession to make.
My room is usually very messy.
But Geneal and I have taken matters into our soft, capable hands, and made our room pristine.

 I am SO IRRITATED that this stupid computer doesn’t know how to rotate pictures!

Anywho, Our room is absolutely gorgeous, and I feel very happy to have carpet space once again. :^) To keep us motivated, I’ve put up a “This Room Has Been Clean For __ Days” sign on our mirror- the goal? Make it to 50 days! Woo!


The Sadies Situation Part 4

Well guys… It happened. I actually went on a date again! There’s hope for me yet. All week, since receiving his answer, I have doubted, and stressed, and generally freaked out. I was worried that although he wrote this:

He really meant this:
“Of all the fishies in the sea… Why the heck did ya have to choose me?! NO!”
I’m just grateful that he hid his disgust well. Otherwise Sadies would have stunk. But it didn’t stunk! In fact, it was awesome!!
The night before, I made a lovely little tutu, because I was told everyone was wearing one. So I made it blue and poofy to match my blue and un-poofy shirt, and it was fabulous.
Then came The Night. I frantically did my nails in an adorable Cookie Monster design- SOFREAKINGHARDTODO. I painstakingly painted my right hand with utter skill and perfection, and then moved on to my left. I had to redo it twice, but finally I had it ready. Then I smeared it. Then I screamed and tried not to cry. Then I had my mommy fix it for me since I was at my wit’s end. Here’s the design:

SUPER cruddy picture, I know, but I took it on my phone. Don’t judge. It looked cuter in real life, okay?
I finished getting ready, just barely in time for Sarah to show up. I ran out the door, pulling on my shoes and stuffing my mascara in my purse. The tutu was forsaken in the mad rush, and it was okay because Sarah didn’t have one either. Oh well. We sped on over to Chandler’s house and I shyly knocked on the door. Country music was blaring from the house, and there were no cars in the driveway. I got nervous. I knocked louder, and still nobody answered. A couple shouts emanated from the house, however, scaring me half to death in the process. Sarah came over and started knocking on windows- she even tried to just open the door at one point, but I shoved her back in the car. I couldn’t screw this up! He didn’t know me well enough, and I didn’t want his only memory of this night to be me walking unceremoniously into his house to find him dancing to Taylor Swift in his skivvies- of course, I’m sure he doesn’t do that, but on the off chance that he does, I didn’t want to be unpleasantly surprised. Ugh. So I went back to the car, slightly deflated and wondering if I would be doomed to go stag on this date. But hope was not lost! We’d come over half an hour before I said I would pick him up, so we simply drove over to Sarah’s date’s house to pick him up. There we laughed, and enjoyed ourselves until the time came to pick Chandler up for real. Then we were off to Polar Ice! I was afraid that Chandler would feel awkward, but he seemed to enjoy himself- turns out he actually knows Clint! (Sarah’s date)
We got to Polar Ice, and got our skates on. I was instantly amazed at how easy it was- walking on the carpet in ice skates. I would have this skating thing in the bag!
Boy, was I wrong.
We stepped out on the ice, and I immediately lost all sense of balance I thought I had. I clung to the wall desperately, and skated nervously around. Chandler began skating without the wall almost as soon as he was on the ice- he long boards, so apparently that means he has mad balance skillz.
Whatever. As soon as he got the hang of it, he took in my sad predicament and helped me out by holding my hand. It was nice that he wasn’t completely repulsed by me, to the point of actually venturing to take my hand. It was comforting, in a way, having someone to lean on (and I really mean lean on- turns out his mad balance skillz translate into being able to hold up my wobbly crazy self on the ice). And he caught me whenever I fell (all twelve times!), and even though I squeezed his hand hard enough that he commented “You’re really strong!” (translation: I would yank my hand out of your death-grip, but I’m too much of a gentleman), he never let go of me. Soo nice. And I don’t mean that as in, ooh, yummy, he’s touching my phalanges, because that’s not what I was thinking at all. Okay, maybe I got a little fluttery inside when he put his hand around my waist to steady me, but who wouldn’t?? So we skated, and then skated some more, and then I fell, and then the Zamboni came out to smooth down the ice we had mercilessly shredded.
Picture time! Because what’s a school dance without a cheesily over-posed picture of you and your hot date? I warned him on the way that we would be posed like Barbie’s and he accepted. We walked in, and I proved him right! I almost had to put my hand on his chest (gagagagagagagagGAG), but I saved the day and we just did a hands-on-hips.
The rest of the date went like clockwork, and I got a gnarly bruise. Here’s pics:

 We’re holding hands (sshh don’t tell)

Isn’t he CUTE? All in all, it was a fabulous night, full of slipping, falling, and Chinese firedrills.