Cuteness, Trust, and Other Random Ramblings of a Wednesday Afternoon

Today I started ready to go out for the evening. I'm running errands beforehand, so I started getting ready fairly early. Besides, traffic can be a beast.

So, I'm wearing a shirt I don't wear often because I forget about it and don't always think it looks well on me, so I glanced in the full length mirror to see how I looked. I thought, "wow, I look cute."

I don't often feel this way. I grew up feeling that whenever someone said they thought I was pretty or cute they were lying. They were always leaving something off. Like, "you're pretty (but you need to loose weight)." "You'd be prettier if you wore makeup." "You'd be pretty if you wore more girlie clothes." I felt like I was being continuously compared with other girls who were skinner, prettier, smarter.

Weight has always been a "problem" with me. I remember going to doctors when I was little to see about loosing. I got the lines about more exercise from my parents along with bribes. I got told again and again about remembering the summer I lost weight and I should do that again. Or reminded that I've gained weight in the few months I've been home from being away all summer. I didn't get this just in my formative and teen years. I got it well into my 20's and early 30's.

I, like so many, have all those voices in my head telling me that it's not okay to be me. That I'm not pretty and never will be. I had actual voices tell me to not see "those people" because they didn't like me. They didn't think like me so I shouldn't listen to anything people with different beliefs said, even if they were friends. But these were the voices that never stopped to hear what I really had to say in the first place. If they would've listened, they would have realized I wasn't the person they wanted me to be in the first place.

In spring of most likely 2011, I remember standing in the lanes of the High Road at Scarborough Faire telling myself that, as much as I wanted to- or even might want to as this was something I liked doing- I would never audition to become a member of Scarborough Faire. Most know the end of this story. I didn't listen to the voices. Eventually I gave in and tried.

It was hard as it was telling people. I was afraid of what they'd say. I was afraid of them too saying no. But I took the chance anyway. I can honestly say, I'm glad I did. I'm glad I tried and told people and conquered my fears. I found a group that likes me for me. They don't care about my weight or tell me to go exercise. I've gotten to where I enjoy doing certain sports that I never tried before now.

I found a group of people that I enjoy being around. I don't tell them this as much as I should. I don't tell them that several I look at as the brothers I never had but always wanted. I don't tell the person whose parenting skills I admired that I want to grow up and be like her and several other women because my mother was never even close to them and I look to them like a better mother than I'll ever have.

Even though it's been years that I've been here, it's hard for me to trust people or let them in. I'm always afraid of what they'd say. I'm always afraid that they wouldn't like me anymore. A lot of days I feel like the onion nobody wants instead of a parfait; I mean, really, everybody likes parfaits right? It's not that I don't want to trust people, I just haven't gotten to that point where I'll let myself trust people.

I suppose there is really no point to this rather long post, other than just letting a few things out. I need to stop holding things in so much. Off to the races of things to do before I go out this evening.

Wanderlust

A year or so ago, I did one of those meditations to find out my spirit animal. Mine is bear. Over the years since and looking at the years previous, I realize this is rather true. In winter, I feel like staying home. I'm not a fan of driving too late or after dark.

Then, then comes spring.

In spring, I love going out and about. I love driving places, especially if the music is just right. I mean, if the radio keeps playing good songs, I just want to keep driving past my exit and on to Oklahoma.

Spring is when my wanderlust awakens.

I start wanting to drive more at night to pretty much anywhere, though I'm more inclined towards north (I'm around 30 or 40 miles from the border) or west.

I'm the type who often wants to just run away from things (as opposed to other so called "solutions"). Being an adult has more moments of let down and hard times than we ever imagined as kids. "With great power (or age) comes great responsibility." We all go through things we don't share. In those times, I'm more inclined to just want to run away and start over. It's been like this for ages- at least college.

I've decided that, should I ever finally get to go to massage school, I'd like to eventually get certified in several other states; included but not limited to: Louisiana, New Mexico, Colorado, Oregon, California, Maine, and Michigan. I'd like to take sometime and just go. Do as the song from Legally Blonde: the Musical says, "climb in the car and just drive."

This is how I see it. I'd get one of those camper trucks or a small camper that can attach to my car or current vehicle. It would have a bed and kitchen area, TV and DVD player, loads of books, yarn, and stuff to be crafty, etc. Plus, enough room for at least a massage chair. A couple of weeks after faire is over, I'd say bye to everyone for a summer, and just head out. I'd probably have some semblance of direction. I'd stop at places and do massages. Maybe I'd catch ComiCon. Maybe I'd hit Salem in October. I'd find a few places to dance. Maybe I'd go to Arizona and hit the Renaissance Faire there. I'd just earn my way around the place giving massages.

Yay for wanting to live the life of Jack Kerouac.

But, by fall I'd  be back. I'd spend the winter and spring here and maybe do it again the next year.

There are times these days I do just want to start running and going somewhere. To live a little while somewhere else. But, like Timothy Olyphant said in Broken Hearts Club, "something always keeps me here." There's a birthday or a party or faire. But, someday. Someday I will be a massage therapist and I'll travel somewhere and send lots of picture postcards.

Maybe I'll start a new blog.

Or maybe I'll just extend the great lawn of life. I'll become the modern day Steinbeck or William Least-Heat Moon in their books Travels with Charley and Blue Highways. Those are two of my favourites. The latter still has the drum corps schedules from the summer when I read it.

Until then, here I remain. But, that's alright.

Faire starts next week.

Talk, Talk

There are times where I really just want to do like the Green Day song says,

Do you have the time
To listen to me whine
About everything and nothing all at once?

But, instead of whining, I just want to talk to someone- or a small group of someones- about everything and nothing all at once. Yes, there are things I want to talk about and questions that have yet to form from mixed up thoughts that I really want to ask and things I really want to talk about; but right now, I just really want to talk.

One of the biggest things is the people I really want to talk to. I'm afraid of asking. I'm afraid of what they'd think of me. I'm afraid of having nothing whatsoever to say and of being extremely uninteresting.

I'm afraid of getting too close.

I moved several times growing up and just started not getting close to people. What was the point when you'd be gone in nine months. Even letters stopped after awhile.

I'm just in a very odd place right now. I can't seem to be getting through a lot of my own personal barriers from years gone by. I'm afraid of things that may or may not happen. I'm scared of certain people from my life showing up at faire again. I feel like I can't really tell those I know about things because I'm afraid of being judged and what they would say. The things I want to talk about include all of these things and more. But I can't seem to find the words to say, "hey, can we talk?" because it scares me.

Life Under the Radar

I'm one of those people that has a hard time opening up to people. I'm also an introvert and an only child. Early on, probably partially due to moving a lot, I learned to keep to myself. You don't get hurt if you don't get to know people or talk to them.

Even now, with as many people as I know and like, I often feel really alone. I will get asked to stuff, but not all the time. Sometimes, it feels like not enough. And when I invite people to things, few ever show up and the people I really want to attend don't bother even looking at the invitation. I'd rather at least have a no.

So, I end up getting let down. A lot. And it sucks.

Too often I am- or feel that I am- overlooked, ignored, and unliked. Even when I try to start to change, nothing changes. Then, people get busy and things start and there's no time to really get with people because they live too far.

It gets lonely in the Sahara.

Most people never really understand what it's like to be an Eponine. Not all of us are shot at the barricades like our patron saint. Most of us still have to deal with day to day life. And it's not all wooing after Marius. There's the things we're never invited to. There's the times we're overlooked for something.

I'm not the type of person to just go up to someone and say, "hey, it bothers me that you won't even say one little thing." No, I'm not pointing fingers. I'm just rambling.

♫Girls like me aren't hard to find
We grow like roses on the vine....
And if you somehow love us back
We think there's something wrong with that♫

Birthday Blues

My birthday is less than two months away. My plan last year for this birthday was don’t plan anything cause you’ll only get disappointed.


As of late, that’s pretty much how I’ve felt about my birthday and trying to do anything- I end up getting disappointed. Barely, if anyone, shows up. Okay, last year there was a good crowd of roughly ten-ish for the movie we went to. The year before, only person who didn’t live at the duplex showed up for a grand total of three guests.

Yeah, my birthdays can be rather disappointing at times.

I like having a something for my birthday. Dinner, movie, whatever. I like occasionally getting gifts or cards and making my amazon birthday wishlist. I like having an excuse for cake. I like getting to hang out with people that I like.   But, again, not a whole lot of people tend to come. Even when I am co-hosting a party, I'm pretty sure most people come because of the co-host and not me. And no, this isn't a pity party and not it isn't always true. But it's been pretty evident in previous year's birthdays. Yes, they were fun parties. Yes, I enjoyed and was grateful for the people who showed up. But, alas, most were guests of the other person with a limited number of mutual guests.   I know I'm not an outgoing person. I'm always the shy one and often feel rather overlooked. No, this isn't always true. It just feels like it is.   Will I do something for my birthday? Probably. Maybe. I would simply because I want to do something and would be more disppointed in not doing something.   Will a lot of people (ie, a good chunk of the people I invite and definately more than 15) come? Probably not. If they do, I'll be INSANELY surprised.    Is this a good year for a surprise party/dinner/whatever? Oh yeah. Speaking of which. My birthday (September 30) is on a Monday, so the Saturday before would be a great day. I'll be working all day (til 6:15). The following Saturday I will hopefully be at FenCon and am more than willing to miss some of the evening's activities if you wanted to steal me away. Oh, and FenCon is in Addison.    And don't get me wrong; I've had some good birthdays. Last year's FINALLY getting to seee Serenity in the theatre on my birthday (it opened September 30th 2005) was great and I love the people who came and were glad they were there. I even had a theatre full of people singing 'happy birthday' to me, wchich is something you don't always get. The year I turned 26 (aka- the birthday I had pnuemonia and didn't know it) was fun even though Tia's closed it required a last minute venue change to a restaurant I now love- El Guapo's. An an evening at the pink flamingo lounge (which I'd love to redo sometime since a good chunk of people I know now I didn't then) was a fun idea that I'd love to expound on. Turning 30 was good too. Turning 16.... well I didn't have a sweet 16 if that's what your asking. I suppose that's why I dream of a dance party.     At this point, I suddenly have no urge to plan anything. I may just stick to dinner at El Guapo's on the day of, if I'm not working late (there's always that possibility and I'd get off at 8:15) and partaking in my annual tradition of listening to Green Day's Wake Me Up When September Ends so that the songs ends just as October begins. Truthfully, Green Day is the only thing that's planned.   ♫She's thirty-three this time around♫

Time of the Season

Repeat after me:
Drum corps is NOT marching band.

Again:
Drum corps is NOT marching band.

Alright, now that we've gotten that out of our systems, we can go onto bigger and better things. Tomorrow is the best, recurring Thursday of the summer: DCI Denton Day! Can't you just tell that I'm excited?! Several corps from all around come down and put on a really great show. And, thankfully, I'm within walking distance of a high school where one usually stays so I can go and hang out and watch them practice while working on some crochet projects.

So, what is drum corps you might ask? Well, as mentioned, it's NOT marching band. It is, according to the Drum Corps International (DCI) website, "marching's major league." It includes drums, brass, and colourguard. Sorry woodwinds.

November usually brings auditions for corps. You travel to the designated place, audition over the course of a weekend, then go home. There may be multiple auditions at different places depending on the corps. Me, my audition was in March in a band hall in Lewisville. My corps is in Milwaukee. Anyway. November is the first camp. You return, once a month, from December through April. Technically, May is a regular camp too, but it can be associated with move-ins too, which happens Memorial Day weekend. If I remember correctly.

So, from Memorial Day weekend until the early middle of August (around the 10th or so), you travel, perform, and practice elaborate shows. You'll also be competing against other corps in your class. Back in my day (which is very weird to say), there were three divisions- I, II, III. Div I were the "big" corps; II were smaller and generally local; III was pretty much local and only performed on weekends or not as much. Some organizations are big enough to house all three levels. Div III was the youngest kids at maybe 8-12; Div II was 12 -15 or 16; Div III was 16 to 21, which is the overall age limit. Then you teach or go to alumni corps. But, I digress. Now, there's just World Class (Div I) and Open Class (everybody else).

Days are long. You sleep in buses and gym floors. Everyone usually slept in the same room with a gender side. We always had the snare line right smack dab in the middle, their sleeping bags in the line they marched in, as the dividing line. Yeah, it's rough. We'd do a show, pack the truck up with instruments and uniforms, maybe have some down time with a snack as we waited on scores, then left on towards the next place, sleeping the miles away in the bus. We'd get a little floor time and then start the day over.

Mornings, we had a run and stretching. Then, breakfast and get ready for the day. Then practice. During early rehearsals, we'd have a marching block to learn the show, sectionals to learn the music, then more marching with instruments that may or may not include playing. As the season went on, it was more on perfecting the show. And never be surprised if the staff suddenly decided to change an entire number. On a show day. And you had to remember the new stuff that night.

But, in the end, it was really rather worth it. I"ve gotten to march some cool stadiums like in Indianapolis and Denver. I got to do something that most people probably never will. I know a girl from college who didn't get to though she had a spot. I'm glad I got my one season as a rook-out (someone who's both a rookie and age-out). I'd rather that than none or some other season. To this day, I mention that I"m happy I didn't have to do three parades on 4th of July.

I remember, many many moons ago, sitting in a dorm room watching drum corps videos. One of the guys said, "wouldn't it be cool if we all marched next year?" When we were at the San Antonio show, I was walking to put my uniform up when his drumline, all in formation, walked by to go and take the field. He gave me a head nod, and I returned it. Most of the guys who'd been sitting in his dorm room that night were on that line. The only other one was in a different corps and I'd seen him and another linemate then too.

So, in the future, you should go see a drum corps show. Dallas is coming up soon too.

Oh, and if you want extra brownie points from me, my birthday is in September and I REALLY want the world championship CD's for EACH year from 2002 to 2012. I'll want 2013 when it comes out too. And the videos would be nice. Blu-Ray is fine. But I REALLY want the CD's. Or, maybe, take me to the big screen show on August 8th. It's air conditioned and you can watch too!

Since I can't find a video of me marching (hey, it was 2002), I'll leave you with the Cavaliers from that year. This segment still gives me goosebumps (and why I'd like the videos too). Cavaliers 2002 Fight Club

And Carolina Crown performing Ben Folds' "Time" is here

Alright, so you don't see me in this, but trust me, I"m there. 2002 Milwaukee Circus Parade And, sadly, I had NO idea that was Custer's march until, oh, right now. And I played that song sooo much.

Well, off to listen to stuff.

So, as many of you know, my roommate's been out of town for a bit now. Her total absence will be 10 days. While, yes, it's been nice having the place to myself for an extended time, there are certain things that I've learned; or at least had reiterated.

I really shouldn't live alone.
Really, I shouldn't. Though I may lean towards introvert tendencies, I really need to be around people. I know a lot of that has to do with gas right now, but in the long run I just need to be around someone. Even for a few minutes.

While, yes, I can "enjoy the silence" (hey, I'm an only child, I do this well), I can't do this for too long a period.

I'm not a person to go out and seek company
I'm just not. I tried. I failed. I didn't try anymore. Not for feeling like a failure, but just not being the type to go out and try seeking people a lot. This is something I really need to work on. It just didn't work too well over the past few days.

On the other hand, I did get to go to a party, which was great since I got to see a lot of people I like there.

And puppies. Can't forget the puppies.

I'm not a talkative person in big groups
In the aforementioned party, I didn't say a lot when I was in a larger group. However, as the night wore on and I was sitting in a group of 3 or 4 around the dinner table, I opened up more. The group tended to change like the topics, but I still talked more then. Not something I can really explain other than I feel a little more comfortable. Or at least enough to talk more. And that's not to say I didn't feel comfortable around everyone else because, believe me, I feel WAY comfortable around them. I just work better in small groups. Someday, I'll do better in a bigger group. I just have to work up to that.