Dream a Little Dream of Me

   I finally got the guts to post a video of me singing. This is the start of a series to help me get my voice out to the public and start branding myself as a performer. The bad news is that I'm posting it in my blog because I'm too chicken s*** to post the video directly to my Facebook page. I'm a stickler for people just coming to see me perform live rather than posting a crappy video that doesn't do my voice any justice. It's because I'm my own worst critic. I'll cry you a river sometime.
   The quality is really terrible because I have a crappy PC and I have no idea how to manipulate the sound without getting all kinds of feedback. You'll also notice a very irritating whooshing noise coming from my laptop's vent. I guess it's time to take a can of WD-40 to that bad boy. If anyone has tips and tricks to better the sound quality of my videos, please enlighten me. Pretty please. I've spent 2 hours trying to make this video somewhat good. I've been a singer the majority of my life, but I feel like I'm only as good a singer as the quality of my videos. It's depressing me. Seriously.

Why I Can't Have Nice Things

  My behavior the last few days has just proven to me that I can't have nice things. NOTE: This post is only explaining why I can't have nice things, not that I don't have nice things. I have lots of nice things (that I'm surprised are still intact), but that's besides the point. I really hope that you find this as humorous as I do. I'm overdue for a blog post rife with dry, self-deprecating humor that demonstrates the farcical circumstances that make up my every day life.

I like saying smart stuff.

But really, I can't have nice things because...

1. I knocked Santa over with my ear buds. Poor Santa.

Please don't ask me why we have a Santa Claus candy dish year-round.

2. I can't even take care of my 4 year-old EnV2. Notice the broken hinge. The speaker doesn't work because I dropped it off my bunk bed at school. The pound key doesn't work either.

3. I have a potty mouth. Anyone with such an ineloquent vocabulary surely doesn't deserve nice things.
4. My room looks like a storage unit.

Looking at this give me a headache.

Notice the box of shoes. Just notice it.

DISCLAIMER: This isn't the nice pretty Hollywood room at my dad's house. This is a 10 year-long redecorating procrastination nightmare that is currently housing all of my college stuff and tons of miscellaneous crap. And more stuffed animals.

I don't know which is more horrifying, the fact that I still have stuffed animals, or that headboard.

5. My car is also a disaster.

Don't kid yourself. Your car is a mess, too.

6. ...of my bank account. #collegekidproblems #yesihashtaggedablogpost #dontjudge

7. I have one year-old dorm dust remaining on my laptop from Smith Hall. 'Nuff said.

You can barely see it... but it's there!

8. ...of this face.

And that hair.

And finally...

9. Because apparently my picture-taking skills are still in the Myspace phase.

I feel it's all the funnier to leave it sideways.

Short Post About a Nice Guy Who Didn't Get Permanently Stuck in the Friend Zone

  The best thing I ever did was give the nice guy a chance. I took a risk and went out on a date with a confident, intelligent, fun guy who I had known for years (and secretly wanted for a long time).

  I had chewed out and said my goodbyes to the "bad boy" (who I had also wanted for a little while) who strung me along because he wasn't interested in anything more than fooling around after he told me he was still talking to his ex. I had had enough. I already had been given the heave-ho by another guy I was with for two years for another woman, and now this idiot thought he could two-time me (For a second time. Don't even get me started.). I was irate, but at the same time relieved. I was free. Free from my curiosity of what would never have been. I no longer felt the need to get this lost cause out of my system lest it cause me to take a good guy for granted. It was over before it began. So I took the plunge and took the nice guy out of the friend zone and went on a date with him.

  The best friend guy is everything I never knew I wanted in a guy. He loves me unconditionally, but he likes me. He's secure enough to value my independence and doesn't complain that I'm not needy enough (That's a huge peeve of mine. Why would you want a woman who depends on you to make decisions and do everything all the time? That's not laying the pressure on yourself too heavy or anything.). He always encourages me to grow as a person and to constantly challenge myself and improve. He appreciates my flaws and doesn't complain about the ways that I fall short as a human being (and that's saying a lot considering that I screw up a lot). He's honest with me, too. He doesn't lie or keep secrets from me (also another peeve of mine). And yeah he's pretty handsome, too.

  Two and a half years later I've been with the same wonderful guy, and it's been the most fulfilling relationship I've had the privilege to be half of. We've had some challenges, like my moving across the state for college, but we've both grown as people as has our relationship. I can only hope the rest of the female population catches on and finds their other half like I did.

Goodbyes Are Always the Hardest

  I lost my best friend today, my poodle Ginger. Her health had started deteriorating rapidly a week and a half ago. She had an enlarged heart and while she was doing well on medication and diuretics, her health took a turn for the worst last night and she began suffering from edema of the lungs near the point of suffocation. She kept my mom up all night last night gasping for breath. Rather than take her to the emergency vet again and put her in a stressful situation and possibly cause a heart attack, my mom waited until our veterinarian's office was open and decided to put her to sleep somewhere she would be comfortable. We had a very kind and friendly vet who treated Ginger very well, so she was never scared or anxious at her appointments. Her health was so deteriorated and her breathing so labored that all she needed was a sedative. She went very peacefully in my mom's lap. I'm really sad that I couldn't be there in her last moments, but I'm glad she isn't in pain anymore.
  There are so many things Ginger taught me about life and love in such a short time. I really learned some of the most important things just by watching her be a dog. It's funny how our pets have that effect on us. I learned to enjoy the little things in life. I learned that true beauty comes from your happiness within, your essence, and not solely from your appearance. Most importantly, I learned unconditional love.
  Ginger was one individual who really knew how to live in the moment. I'd take her to the dog park and she would just go to town taking in all the smells and sights. She loved to frolic. Watching her wander and sniff the ground around her, occasionally stopping to look up and wag her little stubby tail (or her nub, as we called it) at us if we called out to her was just the cutest thing to watch. Let her wander around outside and she was happy. It was comical to watch her play with her toys all by herself. She would toss them around and trot around the living room floor and growl and grumble at them like she was a little child making up dialogue between herself and her little buddy. Then after she would shake them silly, she would proudly trot off dragging her toy alongside her to her retreat under the computer desk, thrilled with her victory.
  She was well-traveled, too. We took her on almost all the family vacations to Tennessee, Georgia, and she even came to Tallahassee when my family came to see me in The Rocky Horror Show. She always enjoyed a good car ride, especially when it took her to her Grammy's house. We all knew it was because Grammy spoiled her rotten. However, she did not enjoy her car seat, in part because it didn't allow her to stick her head outside the window and smell the open air. It also kept her from jumping to the front seat and into my mom's lap.
  It's funny how dogs never have self-image issues like humans do. They could be the goofiest, ugliest looking things in the world and be the happiest creatures put on the earth. Before my mom caved and finally started investing in a groomer, Ginger always won the award for "Worst Haircut" by a landslide. She continued to enjoy being a dog just the same. Even when she put on a few pounds with age, it never stopped her from enjoying her food. She enjoyed a wide culinary variety. Everything from cheeseburgers to spaghetti to cannoli filling. She even indulged in my mom's wine once, we discovered one night when we came home to find my mom's wine goblet tipped over with a few drops of leftover white wine pooled in the side. Ginger also learned the pains of a bad hangover the next day when she spent the entire day sprawled out on the couch sleeping. But I think her favorite was the whole cheeseburger she would have all to herself on her birthday. She got older and rounder, but never stopped eating like a puppy.
  The most important thing Ginger taught me was unconditional love. She must have seen me go through hundreds of good days, bad days, crying spells, fits of rage, breakups, sick days and you name it in the last eleven years and yet she never thought any less of me. She was around when I would get ready for shows and dates, she would be home to greet me when I came home. She didn't judge me when boredom caused me to uphold conversations with myself at home alone, and she didn't mind my living room karaoke sessions. She was there for a cuddle when I was sick, and she didn't mind me crying all over her fur when I got my heart broken by a boy. One morning after a really bad breakup, she stood outside my bedroom door whimpering for my mom to let her in so she could jump up on my bed and cheer me up. She was the Official Poodle Date Approval Department for every guy I've ever dated. She liked Patrick the most. She never held anything against me, or brought up my past wrongs. She loved me in spite of my many flaws.
  That's only the tip of the iceberg. As much as my heart hurts at this new empty space her passing has left behind, I know I will forever carry these things with me and always remember to be genuine because of her. So thank you, Ginger. Thank you for teaching me what's really important and for bringing our family such joy over your life. We will always remember you.

A POEM FOR THE GRIEVING...

Do not stand at my grave and weep.
I am not there, I do not sleep.
I am a thousand winds that blow,
I am the diamond glints on snow.
I am the sunlight on ripened grain,
I am the gentle autumn's rain.
When you awaken in the morning's hush,
I am the swift uplifting rush
of quiet birds in circled flight.
I am the stars that shine at night.
Do not stand at my grave and cry,
I am not there, I did not die...

-Anonymous

Things People Do On Facebook That I Do Not Understand

  Alright, so I'm going to try not to write a book about this because everybody and their brother has posted about this at some point. Google "annoying things people do on Facebook" and the results go on for pages and pages. I'm also not trying to get on some sort of high horse either, because let's face it, I'm guilty of doing some of these things too. I just find the patterns of behavior humorous and I feel the need to point out the ones that bug me the most. That said...

1. Feed-bombing
  This one is annoying for obvious reasons. "Going to the store. Text me." 5 minutes later, "Omg this traffic is aaaawwwwful!" Another 5 minutes later, "Hey, I saw a turtle crossing the road! I wonder why it was doing that." Another 5 minutes, "This grocery store sucks! They don't have [insert random item or name brand here]." 2 seconds later, "Ok, I'm coming home now!" 10 minutes later, "Phew! So good to be home and unpacked." 2 minutes later "OMG! Check out this article about cats doing stuff!" And it goes on and on...
  Only someone who is extremely stuck in the lowest realm of boredom would feel the need to post a play-by-play of their mundane daily life all over Facebook for everyone to read. Seriously. Are you lonely? Is this irritating manner of grabbing people's attention your subconscious telling you that you need to get a hobby? 'Cause I really think you spend way to much time on the interwebs. I mean, really. Get some real friends. Until you stop you're hidden from my feed.

2. Overzealous religious/political posts
  I really don't care about your judgmental stance on everybody who doesn't agree with you. I happen to be one of those rose-colored glasses-wearing people who prefers to post positive things about God online. I prefer to post things that lift people up, because lezbehonest, nobody wants to hear that God hates them. I also shy away from political posts because what seems like a little debate often times starts wars between people. We've been through it in real life. People cut off communication with each other over politics. That's way too intense for me to even go near that!

3. Taking pictures of food
  I really just don't get this one. I'm not talking posting a picture once and a while of a really impressive cake you made or cupcakes or whatever. I'm talking about the people who take pictures of every single meal and post them on Facebook. Unless you are a food blogger or chef and it is your profession to do so, you really don't need to share your culinary routine with us. I really don't get it! I'm sorry! I just don't! Are you seeking approval for your taste in food? If so, good for you for eating your vegetables! You go, Glen Coco!

4. Vague status
  I'm guilty of this one. "Things are so hard right now. I just don't know what to do. I'm gonna cry. I hate when these things happen. :(((" That person who posts a vague status because they want people to ask what's wrong. I know because I do that. It's a way of indicating that something is wrong without airing out your laundry. It's really annoying. It's even worse when they post a whole long paragraph about feeling like crap and they just end up talking in circles about feeling like crap. My only word of advice is just that you be prepared to answer people when they ask what's wrong. Don't say "Oh, nothing." Because it's pointless for you to post the status without telling anyone anything.

5. Inaccurate spelling/poor grammar
  Two words: pet peeve. Seriously, I will judge you if you're not using proper grammar, spelling and punctuation. Mind you, I have slip-ups every so often as well. But at least... I don't know... FIX THEM! "Oh, but it's just Facebook!" NO! There is no excuse for you to stop applying all those years of English classes only to slowly dumb yourself down. You never know who is reading your statuses. It could be your boss, and they could decide that you're not as smart as your resume makes you look. And then you might get fired or passed over for someone who is more consistent. I'm not always the sharpest bulb in the crayon box, but even I knew that! Shame on you. Now, go study your spelling and grammar and other smart people stuff!

6. The "Call me/Text me" status
  I'm also guilty of this one. Chances are you, like the feed-bomber, are bored out of your mind and need someone to talk to, yet you don't actually want to take the initiative to pick up your phone and text/call someone. Just pick up the phone and do it! You won't need to ask people to do it for you!

7. The TMI.
  "I have the worst diarrhea today! It's a race out my *** and everybody wins!" Um, ick! I don't think I need to continue on why this bugs me. 'Nuff said!

I just realized that I ended up writing a lot more than I said I would. Whoops.

Speak Up... Or Else.

  I wanted to say something. Anything. I wanted to leave my thoughts on yet another reason why this country is headed towards "Idiocracy." I had it planned out perfectly. I wanted to say "how disgusted I am at this situation. This is not a story of a troubled person. This is a story of an altruistic person who is spread way too thin and needs to be helped, not punished." I had spent fifteen minutes staring at the post coming up with a whole beautiful, well thought out rant just waiting to be typed out. I was going to conclude it with "the judge who made this ruling needs to be reprimanded for stupidity. This lack of common sense is why we're headed towards 'Idiocracy.'" (You can venture a guess on the issue if you are caught up on current events). However, I hesitated.

"That's crap," I thought. "Nobody will even notice that, let alone like it." I didn't post anything at all. Again.

  This is just another one of those times where my voice goes unused. It happens all the time. More often than I'd like to allow or admit. I don't like starting debates with people because I fear they will become more heated than I plan. Or I might sound unintelligent. Or I might sound very intelligent but someone will insult me anyway. I try to brush it off like being controversial is not really my style and that I don't really care. But I do care.
  It's never been difficult for me to be intelligent from an artistic standpoint. There's so much leeway to think and analyze with an artistic piece, it's almost like you can't really be wrong. Politics and law are a completely different story. There are so many biases that you really have no idea what's right and what's wrong until you get the facts. Did I mention that because of all the biases and noise the hard facts are always the most difficult to obtain?
  I really don't get why it's such an issue. There are far dumber people out there who can't keep their mouths shut and just babble forever without a single inkling of what they're even saying. So many times have I wanted to retort back at them and make them eat their words and think twice about opening their mouth again. So many. I think that's one of the downsides of having become so introverted in the last year. I think and think and think, but I won't speak unless it's important (Or I'm at work. My job involves a lot of talking.). I think too much and speak too little. Actually I've always thought too much. I've always been introverted as well (technically I'm an ambivert because I switch back and forth), but due to my involvement in performing arts I always assumed that that made me an extrovert. But I digress.
  I have an idea. Not just for myself, but for other ambiverts/introverts in the same boat (and extroverts too, although I can't see how you would even have this problem). Let's make a five-month-late-not-so-new-year New Years resolution to speak up. To voice our opinions without fear of sounding stupid. To take risks and openly run with our ideas. To not be so inhibited.

Time to step into my running shoes.

You Know You're a Grownup When...

  I haven't posted anything in a while, and for some reason whenever I get around to it I almost always happen to be in a bad mood or intensely pensive about something. I figured I'd post something lighthearted and funny. I know a lot of my friends can relate to this because we're all pretty much in the same boat. I got the idea from the blog of a high school classmate to whom I am subscribed.

Without further ado.

You Know You're a Grownup When...

1. You actually make an effort to make sure your room is in at least a state of ordered chaos because you feel that excessive clutter doesn't match the furniture in your bedroom.
2. You have guilt about leaving messes in somebody's house, leading me to #3.
3. You tidy up your room and bathroom without your parents having to ask.
4. You shake your head with disapproval at the lack of fruits and vegetables in your parents' fridge.
5. You actually enjoy grocery shopping.
6. You don't mind cooking for yourself. You also don't mind not cooking for yourself. You also don't mind going without dinner because you're too lazy to cook for yourself.
7. Seeing dust on the furniture and messes in the kitchen make you crazy.
8. You put your laundry away instead of leaving it in a "neat" pile on the floor (!!!).
9. You become health-conscious because you're afraid you'll end up spending your life savings and then some on medical care.
10. Staying in and watching movies become your favorite thing to do on Friday night rather than clubbing.

Clearly clutter doesn't go with the theme of this room.

Maybe the guilt is from Audrey Hepburn staring into my soul...

Mind you, these are very minor and a lot of these are particular to my personality type.

Don't fret though, I still am very much a kid in other ways.

1. I still watch Disney movies. And I sing along to them. Spongebob is my favorite cartoon. Don't judge me.
2. I revel in the glory of being able to eat cake and chocolate for breakfast without anyone having a say otherwise. I don't actually do that, but I could if I wanted to!
3. I enjoy having my apartments/houses to myself solely for the purpose of dancing around in my underwear.
4. I would still wear bows in my hair if I had bows to wear in my hair.
5. The "Diary of a Wimpy Kid" series cracks me up.
6. I dance in front my mirror to my ipod while lip syncing into my hair brush. Still (You know you do, too! You just won't admit to it.).
7. I'm still not ready to part with my stuffed animals. Again, don't judge me.
8. I don't understand why everyone is getting married. No, please. Enlighten me on what your hurry is.

I can't believe I posted this on the internet. At least they're all hidden in the corner.

I guarantee there's more. I'll probably continue this post later on or something.