Hello blog. Meet life.

So, I know it's been, well, forever. Long enough for some stuff to have happened that I guess you should get an update on. But I don't have that long so I'll just give you the point form (comment if you want me to expand on something).

1. Sadie Hawkins was spent avoiding PC at all costs because I realized that while he may finally like me, I actually no longer like him to the point of being repulsed by him. 
2. I like someone else now, who we'll call T. but I'm not getting all swoony over this one. Mostly because I'm slightly very embarrassed of all the: "I like him so much it hurts" and other nonsense. Emotions can do horrible, horrible things. NO I AM NOT CYNICAL. Maybe a little.
3. School's almost over--hahahahhahahahahahhaahahahahaha I am way too happy about this.
4. I really can't think of anything else momentous. So that just goes to show you that you haven't really missed much. Not that anyone's READING THIS (no hinting here) so I guess it really doesn't matter.
5. Oh yeah, I'm writing another play.
6. And starting a fitness club.
7. And helping out with a music camp.
8. I'm really done now.

Angel

Sadie Hawkins

Sadie Hawkins! What is it? What does it mean? Where does it come from? Today, we will be exploring all these questions and more as we delve deep into the history and symbolism ... okay, I'll just stop there. Basically what that means is I read 2 articles online about this and now I think I'm an expert. Well, not really. But I will attempt to tell you something you wouldn't already know about Sadie Hawkins. If you don't like learning new things ... well ... just leave. Now. Or start enjoying it!

WELL THEN. * ahem * The original Sadie Hawkins was actually a female character in the comic strip L'il Abner. I didn't read that much, but apparently in the strip, they have a "Sadie Hawkins Day" and all the female bachelorettes (including the absolutely hideous looking Ms. Hawkins herself) have a footrace with the male bachelors and if a female bachelorette manages to tag one before the finish line and drag him, kicking and screaming, back, he has to marry her. 

Sadie Hawkins herself!

I have to admit that it's fairly funny, although slightly degrading, implying that being a female bachelorette is very undesirable. Admittedly, it was in the 1930s, but still. Anyways, that's the history of the name. What Sadie Hawkins is now used as is a dance where the girls ask the guys, I guess instead of mugging them in a footrace. It's a pretty wide-spread phenomenon and even has a song written about it (check out the link at the end of the post)

I'm not super old fashioned, myself, and so I have no problems with girls asking guys out, though I probably wouldn't do it myself (for other reasons, though). And even when it came to asking someone to the Sadie Hawkins we're having at our school ... I was a little nervous. But I went out and did it. I got my guyfriend J. to slip a little ticket I'd written out asking PC to the dance on Friday. Unfortunately I didn't see him after that so I don't know whether it's a yes or no. But I'm not even that worried, actually. I feel more in control lately than I have for a while. 

I was going to write about the Horrible Grocery Store Embarrassment That Happened When My Dad Met PC And His Mom but I guess we'll have to save that for later because I have to leave now. I'm hopefully getting a new camera today and I'm thinking of starting to post pictures on here. Not of myself (I'm Ms. Anonymous, come on) but of different, cool things. Really cool. Let me know what you think and sorry for the somewhat lame post.

xoxo

Angel

► 2:55► 2:55

www.youtube.com/watch?v=dpzQWztuXow

PC Again

I like him. I like him so much it hurts. 
I kind of thought that I was over, or getting over him for a while. But it seems that either I was wrong or all the feelings have come back in a hurry.
I had an orchestra concert at the concert hall today, in which I played a solo piece. With my hair done up fancy and makeup and a tight dress and—I have to say—I felt beautiful. Which I normally don't, and I'd venture to say I did look pretty good as well. 
And PC came. Whether because my friend KA. invited him or because he liked my other friends C. and J., or, and I doubt this, because he wanted to see me. 
I would give way too much to know what went through PC's head the first time he saw me that evening, when I walked out on stage to all that applause and I could feel everyone's eyes on me. Was he thinking how beautiful I looked? Maybe just how dressed up I was? Or maybe he was just waiting for me to play, because he likes classical music and he would be the kind of guy to just enjoy the music. What I wouldn't give to know.

I sat between PC and J. on the way back home. We had a great conversation, interesting and more deep than the ones we usually do. It was hard to concentrate, though, when every time his leg touched mine it sent shocks up and down my entire body. I've never had such a physical reaction to somebody, when one touch can light your entire body on fire. It kind of scared me but at the same time I kept envisioning what it would be like to, well, this is embarrassing, but to slowdance with him again. To have his hands on my waist and him a lot closer than arms length away. Okay, I feel stupid saying that, but it's what I thought. 

I like him, and I'm going to admit it and not try to hide it. But I don't know if I want him to know that, yet. We have our last school dance in around two and a half weeks (ironically, on my older brother N.'s birthday) and it's Sadie Hawkins, which means the girls ask the guys. And I  really do want to ask PC. But I don't know if I can or should or if he'd want to ... or if I could dance or if he'd want to dance after the christmas banquet. 

I'm going to do my best not to obsess over it all weekend. It probably won't work.

Love,
Angel

Endings and Beginnings

I've always found beginnings more exciting than endings. When it comes to watching movies, reading books, writing, drawing, anything. A shining blank page, that new book smell, the opening credits ... but most of all, the feeling that anything, absolutely anything could happen. You simply don't know, and that's the beauty. When the surprise comes from yourself (and it's a good surprise) it's especially exciting. 

Endings have never been my favourite. I've only ever finished one story, and it was a short story. I just never seem to want to finish any of my stories, which is sad. Most things I finish out of sheer stubbornness because admitting defeat would mean giving up. It's a helpful trait for certain things (it's the ONLY thing that got me through Lent with no sweets), but for others, it's hard. For instance: if I'm doing something annoying and someone tells me to stop, my first instinct is to take it as a highly personal insult and keep going. It's stupid, and makes no sense, but that's what I think. There's many other things like that where stubbornness, or pigheadedness, as my mom calls it, can get in the way.

My Grandpa on my mom's side is a perfect example of that. I'm not exactly sure what he all has, but an array of mental issues stemming from some sort of PTSD that include dementia and 'mental' pain, as in pain that has no physical reason but messed up neurons or somethings. I'm no expert, but it's causing his pigheaded nature to go off the deep end. It's kind of like a real-life lesson of 'I don't want to be that'. 

But back to beginnings and endings. I've begun to suspect, recently, that the problem I have isn't really with either. I think it's more with the present moment. I start something and immediately start thinking about the end, what the finished product will be, without regards to how I'm getting there.The present moment, in other words, is what could use more work. Enjoying what I'm doing and just living instead of always thinking about tomorrow, which, after all, never comes.

My words aren't flowing as they usually do today, so I'll leave you with this to end that captures more what I'm talking about than I can. I think this may be my favourite quote of all time, and definitely my favourite from Lord of the Rings.

Masks

One of my friends was talking about masks: why we wear them and how we can take them off.

I thought I'd share a poem I wrote around a year ago in a darker period. It's all about wearing a mask and what it can do. 

Alone

Everyone looks, but they don’t see.

 That I’m smiling as I cry.

It’s my deepest secret.

I’m laughing, but inside I bleed. 

They think they know me. 

Everyone sees the mask on my face,

 Not the tears behind.

I’m a master of lies and cover-ups.

The real me is muted, hidden. 

Behind layers of glass

Face distorted.

The words I say—

They don’t mean anything.

Like a butterfly with new, crumpled wings, 

Not ready to show my colors to the world. 

I’m hiding, scared and small. 

Alone, but surrounded by people. 

Cold, but their smiles are warm. 

Alone.