Bells and Whistles: The Extras Come Included

So I've been using my summer vacation '010 (WOOT!) to re-think my life. My life, as in, what colleges I want to pursue, what books I wanna read, and what activities I want to be apart of before I'm officially a SENIOR:) in the fall.
I've decided that I'll stay in-state for my undergrad degree...
Which hurts my soul dearly, believe me. I want nothing more. Than to Leave. Georgia!
But it looks like that dream won't be realized for another FOUR years. O well. I'm thinking about seriously double-majoring, which apparently is a harrowing feet of unspeakable dimensions (people say it's impossible, whatever). Or else I'll major in Psychology or something, and minor in theatre. But. I refuse to give up the arts. I will major or minor in an art. Preferably theatre.
I am wondering what will happen to my vocal endeavours...
I have books!! Can I just list them first?

*Life of Pi by Yann Martel (Required Summer Reading)

*An Acrobat of the Heart by Stephen Wangh

*Being and Nothingness be Jean-Paul Sartre

*How to Be an Adult by David Richo

*Audition by Michael Shurtleff

*The Richest Man in Babylon by George S. Clason

*Going After Cacciato by Tim O'Brien

...& more!

Ha, that looks like and advertisement. These are all books I haven't read or haven't finished and I am going to finish them this summer. What a challenge...yum.

OMG.
So I auditioned for this summer program and made it--so exciting. It's the first summer program I've ever done and it's acting! Doesn't get better, I swear. Because it's also FREE. It's called the Collision Project and it's being hosted at the Alliance Theatre in Atlanta. I don't know much about the details of the program, except that they invite 17-27 teenagers from around the area to write and direct a play structured around the them of a classic text. It's all about "colliding" ideas and movements to make a show, and at the end, we tour a few high schools with our show. I'm so glad that I'm gunna stay active in acting this summer, since I love it, and it's what I wanna do. And YAY YAY YAY, I get to act with an all new crowd. This is gunna be awesome...
Enneagrams. I'm starting to believe I'm a 5/4...
As in, my ennneagram personality type is a core 5 with a 4 wing of influence. I used to thing I was a core 4 with a 5 wing of influence. But I want to read up on all of the personality typings now. This thing is like the Myers-Briggs personality typing--in fact, they are directly related. Where Myers-Briggs tells you what the dominant characteristics of your personality are, the enneagram system explains why you poses such traits, your recessive characteristics (wing of influence), and the level at which you function (healthy, average, unhealthy). So, it's a fantastically more in-depth look at personality typing, involving steps to integration to achieve a balance of all types. It's fun! I love it and it is very insightful...I'll probably end up talking about this every time I post...
Well, I am working on working more efficiently so I should go. And do some other things I'd like to do. Like live. :)

Multiracial Hair

So I decided to get a book about mixed people and see what other people feel like. And now I feel like I'm melo-dramatic//

Melodrama: 1. a drama, such as a play, film, or television program, characterized by exaggerated emotions, stereotypical characters, and interpersonal conflicts.

2. behavior or occurences having melodramatic characteristics.

The book turned out to be a whine fest; so far, it's only multiracial kids complaining about not fitting in. And being descriminated against. And it's not what I wanted at all. I mean, I've only read about 30 pages in...maybe it changes. But what I was hoping for was. Deeper analysis of the multiracial. Critical essays from young multiracial people. How they feel about being mixed. What their life is like, in detail, not just surface level. Not "Everybody envies me because I'm mixed" or "I hate when people ask me what race I am (but secretly I like it)". That's baby stuff. That's middle school. What I want is an intellectual analysis. I want it to be beyond.. Stereotypical. I want it to be. Not racial. Which doesn't make proper sense. But I want it to be better. When I read these stories about sensitive mixed people, I hate it. Because I feel as if it were a reflection of me. I'm not weak. And I don't pitty myself because of my race. Which would be an elementary school of thought. "BOO HOO, I'M THE VICTIM". It's so stupid and un-true. Maybe that's why I hate it, because it isn't the truth. Not for me. I don't even think about my racial identity. Maybe I should write something.

P.S. I don't know why I felt melodramatic. I think I was talking about the last post I made?

I do tend to over-exaggerate. Like this post.

Incorrect Association Methods

So I was depressed about not making GHP. It's this summer camp for students in Valdasta, Georgia, at Valdasta State University, six full weeks, and free. It's said to be awesome. It's said to be life changing. It's effing free. And I didn't make it. I got through the first audition but the second one was not for me. I guess. I wanted to go. I was pissed when only one person made it. and it wasn't me. Because I think I'm unique and different and deserved to go more than anybody. And I think it's a good thing that I didn't go. Because I'm a mild racist and on the Valdasta GHP website there was nothing but pictures of skinny white people. And I feel left out around large hoards of white people. And black people. And asian people. I wish there were large hoards of multiracial people, like obviously multiracial, not "I'm Swedish-Irish with a German grandma"; that's still white. Or "I'm 1/16 Semoian, my mamma thinks she's dominican, and my daddy's grandpa was Nigerian", that's still black. I mean "I'm Mexican-African-American" or "I'm Korean-French-Native American" or mulotto, or black&somethingelseobviously. I want multiracial friends. I don't have any. And I feel isolated everyknow and then.

Nobody to relate to.

But it's not dramatic or dire or serious it's just me.

No, it's not important.

I just want it.

not being sarcastic.

It's so dark now I can't see my keyboard.

I don't need to see it, but you know.

Where is everyone?

I'm in a dark house alone.

Oooooooooo. The sun is setting...

I went to go watch it.

I was wondering what it would be like to do gruetosky out there.

Peanut, Peanute Butter...

AND JELLY !

yumm. I just ate a sandwhich and it was delicious.

I'm gunna right a few more posts so this one doesn't get outrageously long.

"Drake"_Lost%found...

I Found him.
My Drake.
Someone gave it to a friend who gave it to a friend who gave it to me.
Oh yeaaah.
Thank you Universe.

I Lost My Drake

His name was drake and he was only 11-months old. He was black. But covered in white, and had a few nicks and scratches, but that's what gave him his character, and that's why it's going to be so hard to replace him. I know I can just get another one, that isn't the problem. I want him back. Exactly him. Not a look a like, I want him. That's the problem. I put so much love into him and I never even saw this coming. I can't believe I never even saw this coming. But I have to move on, I want to so bad. I really just want to forget I even left him unattended even for a second. Why did I just leave him in that room? I almost took him. I almost took him with me. I almost did. Almost. But almost doesn't count, right. I hate this. I want to kick myself but I can't. No, literally I don't know how to do that. I'm not even sure if it's physically possible. Is it? Uhhhhhhhh. This is like torture. It's my fault. fault. fault. fault. It's like that, I hear an echo in my head. And it never stops. TORTURE. I miss you drake. You were the best friend a girl like me could have. I hope that if we ever meet again, you don't hate me.

-In Memory of A Lost Drake-

Instant Gratification

I'm rich. Not in the way you think, though. Well, maybe. I knew this would happen to me one day. That I would just wake up and be okay. I am feeling the love. Wow, I'm actually. Ya know, that. I'm one of those. I can do anything I want. I can do whatever with my life. Why am I just realizing this? I've always been famous and it just hit me in the freaking face right now. I could always do whatever I wanted and I never thought about it. Until now. Nothing has changed. I'm just rich now. Rich in knowledge. Love. Friends. Happiness. Stress. Potential. Hope. Courage. I have the whole world in my hands.

Cadence Upsidedown

Paradise.

I can see it out the back window. In between the shadows of the twilight, specks of starlight jump and dance in the sky. There, in my rear-view, is the most lovely length of bruised sky stretched across the line beyond everything. And the sun, so clever, begins to lean on the horizon nonchalantly, moving in on the earth until it is swallowed whole. It is beauty. There is a scent in the air that drifts through my window, light and fluffy with innocence. I'm in a hurry, but can't bring my foot to swell the speed; it's too nice to miss, even for a mile. Now it is dark. The half-hearted sun has accepted defeat, and now the moon gives her stolen light back. I slow down, slower, slower, even slower yet, and I feel the stopping and I see the stillness and I hear the silence and I smell the dry, cold, relentless draft and I taste. I taste it all. All and all, I taste everything about it. And everything is nothing at all. Nothing that never will be, ever, even on the occasion that it is that or this or him. I can see it out the back window, creeping closer away from me. I have seen it, yes, but it is nothing to see. I have heard only that of nothing. Being and nothingness, it is all the same. For all in all, there is no such thing as such things that--