A Variety Of Topics For This Post

Firstly, I want to apologize for not updating recently and for not being overly active (or really very active at all) in my commenting. I do read most posts within a day or two of them being posted.

Secondly: After a rather stressful chain of events this afternoon after school (which involved Han, a library, and oreos), I stormed out to my truck, entirely intent on either doing myself serious physical harm, throwing things until I was instituted, or refusing to move or speak for a week. You think I'm exaggerating, well I'm not. Fortunately, I fell asleep, and Han was there when I woke up. I will admit that part of my tantrum was due to the events of 7th hour (Drama), which I will relate to you momentarily. And part of it was the library situation. Most of it, though, was left over distress from school, which only managed to manifest itself into an expressible form about the time we were at the library...

And now: Today. It was horrid. First, my sister and I nearly got killed by a semi. He was going about 35-40 in a 60 zone, and I was coming up behind him at 60, so I switched lanes. Right after I switched lanes, he put on his turn signal and pulled into my lane in front me. Keep in mind that I am gaining on him this entire time. It was incredibly close, but I was able to get back into the other lane. But oh man, it scared the crap out of me. And then the rest of the day went okay (oh except that I forgot all my pencils and makeup at home... but Mom brought that to school for me) until 7th hour.

First I think I need to tell you: I was very disappointed in the choice of play that my class voted on. It is about an airplane full of people whose pilot is brainwashed by an alien who makes him crash land in the Bermuda Triangle, where they meet "natives" that are actually aliens who have come to stop the brainwashing alien. It is somewhat humorous, but has no plot or theme--and I need things to have a theme. If there is no theme, I don't see a purpose for it, and I am not interested in it. But after much deliberation, I decided I could cope with it. It would be fun and a good way to relax--and there's still the publicity crew.

Today I was told I'd be the head of the publicity crew. I was really happy--we're in charge of the posters, advertisements, programs, t-shirts, all that. I was really excited, because in the last few years I have been VERY disappointed in the t-shirts. I saw this as my opportunity to actually have a say in something and make sure it was good.

Yeah well nevermind that. Have I ever told you before how much I loathe Tony? I will someday. For now, all you need to know is that he's a jerk, he's not on the publicity crew, he punched me in the stomach in kindergarten, and he thinks he's hot artistic stuff because his grandpa can paint. So what does he do? He draws his own idea for t-shirt design or whatever, which consists of the following: the cover that came on the script (an island, a spaceship, and a plane) with a big alien's head behind it. Then he came over and was like, "Look what I drew." I'd have less of a problem with this if: A. It looked good, or B. He'd signed up for publicity crew. But he didn't sign up--meaning he should have stayed with his group and kept his ugly head out of mine. And in addition, everyone loved his really ugly, unoriginal design. I know it's hard to believe that everyone would love an ugly design, but it's true. So there went my hopes of having attractive t-shirts. And it's not only that--it's that those were my responsibility, not to mention my only chance to have any creative outlet, or any say-so at all, and it was totally snatched.

It seems to me like any time I want something, do something, or suggest something, it is either ignored or upstaged. Every time.

It is so very frustrating. I usually love entering Project eXcel with drawings and poetry, but I've never won, and now I'm not sure that I want to even try. I've been working for a little while on some illustrations for a scholarship--but judging by the reaction I get to my work and ideas from most people, I don't know if it's worth it. It's very discouraging, and I'm about sick of trying.

Another example, and no offense to Elsa: but in her yearbook class, the Photoshop instructor noticed that she was familiar with Photoshop and offered to let her teach a 1-hour class for $100. What the heck is that about? A. She only has and can use Photoshop because I gave it to her, and I did help her some. I'm certain she would have learned it on her own with all the tutorials online, but I did help, and I provided tutorial sites for her as well. B. I am better at Photoshop than her. I don't mean to sound like I am putting her down, because she is very good. However, I do have more experience, and have done a larger variety of things with it. I don't believe there is a single feature or tool on the program that I have not used or at least played with. and C. I have tried for forever to get a job at various establishments doing various things... and she gets this incredibly amazing job offer just like that? How is that even the beginning of fair in any way? And for once, I do not want to hear, "She's in a wheelchair, she should get some advantages!" Everyone totally underestimates her--she is perfectly capable of applying to jobs. I understand that there are fewer jobs for her to apply for, so it's good for to get some kind of experience. But on the other hand, there are all kinds of jobs for me to apply for--and I do, but it doesn't work. It is very difficult to get a job in town, and it's very difficult to get a job out of town because of gas--and the only vehicle at my disposal is a 14-mile-per-gallon truck that is highly unreliable. So, I've been working my freaking butt off trying to get a job. And that is just incredibly frustrating. I don't blame Elsa at all, but I have to say I am somewhere between outraged and insanly envious. Because it's again: I am gone completely unacknowledged. Completely.

I don't like to be ignored. I don't. I freaking hate it and it seems to be the story of my life. I can't possibly live up to Emily's reputation of perfection, can't win a single art contest (despite my friends' claims that I am "really good"), can't even get a job, and continue to go completely unobserved in any and all other areas--even when I am in charge.

I could just scream, if only my walls were thick enough for it to go unnoticed.

<3 o.

Dream No Small Dreams

...for they have no power to move the hearts of men.
- Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

# 1
I don't know if there is anything that would be more fun that working in Disneyland. Being a character, especially Alice, would be a dream come true, but even working with the entertainment and theater, character design, visual developement, or as a photographer would do the trick. It would be perfect if, during college, when I am apart from my friends, I could take a summer to go with Elsa and Han to live in California and work in Disneyland. And why not? Save up for a year or two, get a van or a truck, and rent a house. We can build ramps for Elsa, and if she's uncomfortable with us helping her with personal things, we can always hire a nurse (provided that we either save up enough or our parents would be willing to chip in). The hardest part, I think, would be guaranteeing ourselves a job in Disneyland. There are college programs, though, and we could always take advantage of that.

# 2
I would like a career that revolves largely around children and teenagers, possibly with some involvement in art as well. As far as children go, I wouldn't mind being a social case worker... I know that they are often fought against and disliked for taking children out of their homes, but I have seen too many children left in homes that were unsuitable, and someone has to do it. Pain that is inflicted on children is my least favorite kind, because children are so unable to defend themselves against it. I also would "enjoy" doing therapy with children from abusive homes, troubled youth, or people with personality/emotional disorders. Particularly when it comes to teenagers, my heart breaks for those who have such a loss of hope as to attempt suicide. I have a strangely strong desire to prevent it. As for the art, I think it would be great to do art therapy, or even make advances in that field (as it is fairly new), but if not, then I'll just do it on the side.

# 3
How long have I wanted to write a book? Several years. Writing seems to come naturally to me, based on teachers' comments and how easy it is for me to come up with stories. The real challenge is completing anything. Someday, I will write a book, maybe more than one. I can only hope that it will be good enough to be well-known and well-liked.

# 4
Of all the hurting people that I can think of, my heart goes out to two kinds in particular: Depressed teenagers (See # 2) and enslaved women and children. For a while now I have desperately wanted to go on some kind of trip to help somehow with the slave trade issue. I don't know how one goes about actually getting people out of slavery, but I would be much, much more than happy to help freed slaves develope the skills they need to build a life for themselves, whether it means reading/writing or an art form. I don't know if I can think of any other experience that sounds that gratifying.

# 5
I don't know how I feel about actually giving birth to a child. I am not very big and I am somewhat weak, but I still desperately want children, and I think that with my feelings for children born into bad environments, adoption seems like a good plan. I want to design and build a large house with my husband, with a really nice garden (on the roof, maybe?) and provide a good environment for children. I am scared half to death with the idea of not being able to raise a daughter or son correctly (a.k.a., my daughter sleeps around or my son is abusive), but I am too thrilled with the idea of providing a happy childhood to a child who would not have normally had one to let that hinder me... too much.

# 6
If there is ever a cure found for Elsa's condition, I'll be the first to help pay for it. And, as unlikely as it would ever be, if I ever find myself in the position to fund a large amount of research, it will be for her. I certainly can't imagine myself in her position, I'd be spiteful half the time and catatonic the other half, and it must be very difficult for her to keep cheerful sometimes.

# 7
To me, this seems more far-fetched than the last one, but I would really like to be known, at least a little, for my art. I don't know how one would go about doing that, but I can only hope that I will figure that out, as well as find the time and concentration to finish my "art" more often.

# 8
I want a big, beautiful wedding to share with the most perfect man ever. *coughHancough* It will be the most beautiful wedding that anyone has ever seen. The music will be perfect, the atmosphere will be perfect, the decor will be pure, elegant, and still unique. It's my only chance for a fairy tale, and I intend for it to be one. I'll design my own dress (and I will be a princess), I'll have a beautiful ice cream cake (complete with roses), and my ring will be simple, but graceful, with one (very, very shiny) diamond. Everything will just be... perfect. (Beware to anyone who tries to mess it up...)

<3 o.

The Rise and Fall of My Art Career

Have I ever mentioned that I am an artist? I am an artist.

I could have been an artist.

I rarely, if ever, find a chance to draw anymore. A couple of posts ago, I listed 12 things that you probably didn't know about me, and one of them was that my drawing skill has actually diminished. I can pinpoint this occurence:

Mr. T. Cox.

In Junior High, our art teacher was not very well-liked, because she was supposedly "mean." I would be mean, too, though, if none of my students cared enough to even try to draw something. She was always very nice to me, and though people said it was because I was good at drawing, I maintain it was because I actually listened when she talked. That is the minimum a teacher should expect, I think. On the last day of Junior High, she stopped me in the hallway to tell me that I'd better take Drawing in high school. I told her of course I was, and she told me she was glad, because I was one of the best art students she'd had for several years.

Emmo warned me against the high school art teacher. "He's crazy," she told me. "No one likes him. Well, some people like him, but only the crazy ones."

I should listen to Emmo more often.

As the prophecy foretold, Mr. Cox was a nutcase. Freshman year wasn't that bad, but Freshman always like him. (Which is odd, because he doesn't like Freshman at all. All he does in his other classes is complain about the "stupid Freshman" that are all "sluts".) But come Sophomore year, he can be seen for all he truly is: A madman.

This man, with the aid of the cluttered schedule that befalls every Academic Honors student, has completely squandered my artistic potential. He will assign us an assignment, then we are to come up with an idea and a plan, and present it to him. If he likes it, we can start, if he doesn't, we change it. Here's the thing: He never likes it, and we are hardly the ones who change it. It usually goes more along the lines of: We present an idea, he tells us what to do, and it usually has nothing to do with the original plan. I feel like he use a molding couch cushion to smother my creativity in his back office.

But this year, Junior year, is the year that I lost all tolerance for the man.

I was working on a painting he'd assigned. It was a very difficult painting for me, because much of it was a landscape. I'd decided to do a landscape mostly because they are difficult for me and I wanted to improve. Now, the art department got new tables this year, and they are considerably smaller than the old ones, so I have to push two of them together in order to hold my canvas, paint, water, and towel. The tops of the tables also have kind of a habit of falling apart. The plastic that covers the wooden top doesn't stick right. So, Mr. Cox was having Thurman check the tables to see which tops needed replacing, and we had to separate my tables to check them.
While he was doing this, I went to look for my paintbrushes, because someone had moved them again. So I'm looking for my brushes at the counter where Han is painting and Thurman is checking my table, and out of the blue, Mr. Cox starts screaming at me for not working. And I mean knocked-over-his-chair, red-in-the-face, shaking-hands screaming. I tried to tell him what I was doing, but he would have none of it, so I did what he said and went to go get my paint tray, which was behind me. As I turned around, all I could think was, "I really hope he doesn't hit me."
I went to the back room to get water, and I was still upset, seeing as it'd only been approximately forty seconds, and I started crying. I wasn't going to go back out there crying, because my table(s) were right next do his desk, so I stayed there for a couple of minutes. Mr. Cox eventually came back there and started yelling at me again, while I was still in tears. All he kept saying was that I never work in his class, which is a lie: I had a nearly complete painting to show for the last few weeks, and I'd even asked him a couple of days before if that was enough for the grade for the last six weeks, and he had said yes. I finally asked him what he wanted me to do. He said,"I want you to finish your painting," and I told him that that was all I had been trying to do.
So I went back out to my tables and started painting, and Han asked me if I was okay. "I will be, but don't expect to see me in here on Monday," was my response. I said it quietly, partially so my voice wouldn't crack and partially because I didn't want him to hear. Well, it didn't quite work, and he started yelling/screaming... again, because he thought that I had said that to him. I said, "Mr. Cox, if I had intended that for your ears, I would have said it to you." He told me if I felt like that then I needed to go to the guidance office, and otherwise, I needed to paint. I tried to paint, but my hands were shaking, and I got a big ugly squiggle done the side of my girl's dress, so I decided to ditch the canvas and go see Mrs. Thompson.

Long story short, I ended up staying the class, but I cut Ceramics out of my Senior schedule. This is disappointing to me, because I was really looking forward to Ceramics. Three dimensional art had a growing appeal to me, and I was sad that I was going to miss out on the opportunity to further my abilities in it. But I am emotionally unstable enough without having to spend an hour every day with a psychopath with an inexplicable loathing for me.

As important as art is to me, I think that my emotional health is far more important, and I think that as long as I have to endure his company, the memory of him screaming at me red-faced and my brief fear of being attacked by him will not leave me alone.

I wish I didn't have to trade in artistic advancement for some amount of emotional security, because I've always looked forward to a career in art. There were many flaws with this plan, which I always thought I'd be able to work around, but I've moved on. My number one passion is no longer self-expression anymore, anyways.

I've decided to get a double major in Social Work and Psychology. The one thing that I think bothers me most in the world is the emotional condition of children and teenagers. I would like to be a social caseworker to help get endangered children out of dangerous households, or a therapist for "troubled youth." I'll still minor in Art, more than likely. Who knows, maybe I'll make a breakthrough in "art therapy." :D That would be really cool!

<3 o.

This Is Not What I Have Been Thinking About

As of late, my brain has not been very well organized. In fact, it has been somewhat of a mess. It is as if my head is full of tiny, poorly-trained ballet dancers, and they are all intent on mastering the dance to a different song, so they are all leaping and twirling about to different music and running into each other, and then bickering about who was in whose way and why my slippers are better than yours and that is precisely the reason that you should learn my dance and turn off that silly music that you're hopping about to.

Needless to say, it has not been all that pleasant of an experience for me.

I have had many things I want to write about, which include my stress level, the book I am currently reading, why the world does not need a Grand Theft Auto 4, and my older sister. I am certain that I will discuss all these things in due time. However, I have decided that since I seem incapable of organizing my thoughts on any of these subjects, I will have to pick an entirely different topic.

Ahem. (I just cleared my throat.)

Presenting :

12 Things That You Probably Don't Know About Me Yet

1. Before I eat my m&m's, I arrange them in creative, map-like patterns. I start with the brown, and have red branch off a few directions off of that, then orange, yellow, green, and blue. I eat them from the inside out and always eat blue last.

2. I cannot turn a cartwheel. Okay, I turned one once when I was six. Once.

3. I sometimes sing what I mean to say, and it really isn't on purpose. It gets me some weird looks, particularly from check-out people and teachers.

4. When I was younger, I wanted to be an artist. I drew all the time, and I got really good. It's sad for me to admit that without the time that I use to have to practice, my skills are diminishing. I find myself going through old drawings saying, "Wow, I wish I could draw like that!"

5. Han Solo has been my hero since childhood, and he always will be. Indiana Jones is my second hero, a decision made before I even realized that they were both played by Harrison Ford. I try to ignore the fact that Indy is a player...

6. I think books are undeniably better than movies.

7. When I read books, I always pick favorite male and female characters. The male almost always inevitable turns out to be evil.

8. I have little to no respect for people who follow fads of any kind. I am a great believe in individuality, and that conformity should be avoided if at all possible. (By the way, it is always possible.)

9. The only time I have used a curse word was once in fourth grade, on accident, at recess, and I immediately went wide-eyed and covered my mouth. I still feel bad about it.

10. I want to kill myself every time I see a beautiful woman.

11. I once convinced my little sister that Santa Claus wasn't real. All the Christmas presents came from the Whiffle Bird, who would lay eggs that hatch into presents and leave feathers in stockings to turn into candy. Unfortunately, she had a fight with a friend at school about it and I was found out and forced to apologize.

12. I desperately want to own and wear a cute Lolita outfit! (If you don't know what Lolita is, you can look it up in wikipedia. :] )

<3 o.