The party today was pretty fun. Jen is right - Renee does look like Gaga. And I don't know what Charlie was talking about because the cupcakes were lovely. Haha, but I don't think I will be putting on "my trunks" anytime soon.....haha
Family, you know? :)
So, I finally found our television parallel (a year too late). Don't laugh....that much.
Xena and Gabrielle
It would have been a perfect fit. But now, knowing what I know about myself and about you, it's inappropriate.
The show is still good though, in a corny-90s television-kind of way.
YOU GUYS, THIS SUCKS. After ending our last conversation (blogged about below) rather abruptly, I have YET to talk to Kellan. I am really going insane here. It's kind of like that time in seventh grade when he left to El Paso (sp?), Texas to visit his Dad for Christmas early (OR SOMETHING, I don't remember exactly, it was six years ago and I was very distraught). He left about a week early and I assumed the worse: Either he died or he moved away without telling me. Half of me was angry and the other half was mortified.
Yeah, it's like that but approximately 7418529637418529637589456123 TIMES WORSE.
Sure, you can try to tell me that there is a perfectly logical and non-lethal reason for him not being able to communicate with me, but HELLO - I have Ruschenberg blood running through my veins. I will worry, and I will continue to worry until I have proof he is alive and well. Telling me not to worry just sounds like ignoring the fact that there is a reason to worry--regardless of whether or not I blow it out of proportion.
To try to cope, my mind does one of two things.
1. Retreats to past memories - I'm talking 2005 here
2. Propels into possible positive future situations
I am sure that both are unhealthy in their own ways.
The future situations are kind of like those dreams I've been having in that they are so convincing. In full on state of catharsis, I believe that this is my future - not a possible future. It's almost as bad as when I was 12, guys.
But then again, there was a certain beauty about being twelve. At least, that is what I have come to realize. When I was twelve, I was going to be a rockstar and I was going to write a book by the age of fifteen that was going to be so good Oprah would want me on her show. When I was twelve, I thought I had met my soulmate - I believed in soulmates, no question - and he was my best friend too. So cool. And it wasn't just about me. When I was twelve, Jordan was going to be an accomplished pianist when he grew up. Rory and I were going to be in a band together. Kelsey was going to be in the Olympics, Tara was this really amazing singer who secretly liked that genius, Ryan Carpenter, and Laura was going to be an amazing artist, and why in God's name would Karlee ever pursue a career other than being a vet?
This was my past, present, and future according to me when I was twelve. Everything was only a matter of time.
But now I'm smarter than that, right? How many people hold onto the futures they set for themselves when they are twelve? Not many. That's only practical - things change, people change, opportunities come and go - life just happens, you know? And we adjust. The futures we set for ourselves at any age evolve and adapt to what happens in Life. Through it all, a path is cleared, and that is your life. Call it Fate, call it God, call it the Force, it doesn't matter. What matters is, that at some point or another, you get to a point and you know that this is your life. At that moment of revelation, the important thing is that you are happy where you have ended up.
Okay, so go back to Life According to Natalie at Twelve. Go through and see how many of those possible futures are still valid. Some are. And of those that aren't, it's not like that many of them were ridiculous. Personally, I don't see how I am any better than how I was at twelve. In fact, I would say that I am worse off. Now, if you ask me what I want for myself, I say that I want to end up employed. Soulmates exist, but I don't know if that applies to me. In regards to anyone else, all I can say is that I hope that they end up happy. Not even happy, but content enough not to consider themselves unhappy.
At least at twelve, I was confident and articulate. At twelve, I wasn't afraid of Life at all - it could only hold great things for me.
Yeah, Life at Twelve was unrealistic, but it was still good. In Life at Twelve, it was only a matter of time before everyone ended up happy. The eventual path that cleared could only lead to happiness. And I really think whether or not those possible futures happened or not made that much of difference. I just knew that at the time, that's what would make everyone happy, so that's what hoped and prayed for, and eventually that is what I believed in.
So I guess what I am trying to get to is why I am afraid to believe that I could possibly end up happy. Why is it bad that I am believing in Life at Twelve (at least in regards to me) again? Why do I feel like that is wrong or stupid? What's wrong with it?
It's so scary. That's what it is. It's freaking scary. Now, at nineteen, Life is scary. And I can't really tell whether or not I was young and blind at twelve or if I just have my blinders on now. Does living make you wise, or stupid?
Right now, I guess, I'm just worried. Yeah, worried and scared. The path seems clear, but there is a lot of underbrush to clear away first.