Today the rain has gotten to me. Yesterday was a happy day in the rain, where everything seemed vibrant and dripping with life. But today is different for some reason. As I am walking in the rain to campus this morning, I am alone with my thoughts and the drops of water falling from the sky. Ironically "Purple Rain" comes on my iPod, so I leave it on repeat. It's such a beautiful song, and it made my mind start turning. I suddenly get a pang in my heart to tell everyone close to me that I love them. The urge to simply apologize overwhelms me. Apologize for many things- for not always being the best daughter, for not doing something small when you asked, for not spending time with you because I suddenly changed my plans. There are people in my life that mean so much to me, and I have at some point hurt them all. I don't know about you, but that's a lot for me to take in. I keep walking and I get this feeling that I don't have anything figured out. I think that I can do things, but really I know nothing and am not ready for the world I will so soon have to join. I've had such confidence in myself and my directions, but now this rain is making me feel like a child. I am hopeful for the future, but I also fear for the future. By personal experience I know that in the end, everything will turn out alright. But the uncertain road between where I am and my happy ending sometimes eats away at me like a termite. Who am I going to be? What am I going to do? Who will I disappoint along the way? I realize that I in no way can dwell on these things. It would literally eat me alive. I would be left with nothing but an empty shell- and hollow places can often become filled with undesirable things. I know that things will be okay, but I really want to know.
To those close to me- I love you. You'll never know how much you have done for me. I might not be able to say it all of the time due to reasons of stupid pride, but even when I act like I can do everything on my own and that you are the last person that I need, you are actually the ones that I need the most.
To those that I have ever disappointed- I'm sorry. I'm only human, and I am very naive. Sometimes I am guilty of thinking with my heart and not my head. I'm still learning, even though if it is the hard way at times.
Sadly enough, those that I care most about are the ones that I have disappointed at some point in my life. It breaks my heart, but all I can do is learn from my mistakes and love like there's no tomorrow. My family and my love, you deserve the best life has to offer. I'll do my best to be the daughter, sister, or girl that you deserve. I might be in over my head sometimes, but I do know this much;
All I want's to see you laughing in the Purple Rain.
I love my birthday. I know that sounds incredibly narcissistic, but it's true. It's not so much the fact that I get gifts that I love (though you will never hear me complain about it), but it's more so the fact that I have something to look forward to. I will give you periodic countdowns just to keep you on your toes. (One month and one week from today, by the way). I also love the fact that my birthday happens to be nestled in the greatest season of all times- autumn. Fall. Whichever you prefer, I love the rain, grey skies and endless opportunities to wear sweatpants and boots that fall has to offer. This time of year just makes me feel so energized and gets my creative juices flowing. But anyway, back to my birthday.
Now I have never not been excited for a birthday. In fact, until just a few minutes ago, I've been excited about my upcoming birthday for years on end. I'm finally turning 18! I'll be a legal adult of the United States. I and only I will own me, I will be the one calling the shots in my newfound adult domain. Sweet liberation! I mean, who wouldn't be excited? Well, leave it to Abba to ruin it for me. I just heard the song "Dancing Queen" and instantly got really, really sad. No longer will I be able to sing along and think of myself as the dancing queen. Once October 13 rolls around, no longer will I be young, sweet, and only 17. When you are a young girl and hear that song, all you want is to finally be 17 so that Abba would be singing about you. Even though the only tambourine that you will likely be feeling the beat of will be during a rehearsal for your high school band class, that's not the point! The point is that being 17 makes you free, young, and sweet. You can dance and jive to your heart's content and never get arrested for it because you are a minor. Once the dancing queen is 18, that becomes a whole different song. That turns into Ke$ha's "Blow", where:
Dirt and glitter Cover the floor We're pretty and sick We're young and we're bored
Granted, you are still young, but you are no longer sweet! You got bored of the tambourine and are now on the floor covered with glitter and dirt. You go crazy and lose your mind and wear blue lipstick and studs on your eyebrows. Dancing queen is no more. Let's just compare a young and sweet dancing queen to her 18 year old counterpart;
Nothing screams innocence more than an 18th century costume. The beauty of being young is you are allowed to be naive, obviously. Now let's look what happens after Dancing Queen's metamorphosis into wild and crazy adulthood...
Lord have mercy. Your mythological unicorn friends are now alcoholics. You're dressed like Britney Spears and making out with a one eyed unicorn. You rip off your bra in the middle of a party. There is no hope for you as an outstanding citizen once you surpass the Dancing Queen stage of your life. Quite frankly, this makes me a little sad. I don't want to make out with one eyed unicorns. Give me a tambourine and I'll be entertained for at least an hour. All I want it to hold on to that innocence a little longer. I doubt that Abba would agree to bump the dancing queen's age a year, so I suppose I will just have to resign my crown when the time comes. I'm sure that I'll find another song to celebrate being 18. Though all I've got is Alice Cooper's "I'm 18" ('cause I'm eighteen I get confused every day, eighteen I just don't know what to say, eighteen I gotta get away').
Going from a young and sweet dancing queen to an angsty, confused adult. I suppose that is life.
These are the things that I hear on a somewhat daily basis in my house. In my house resides three strong willed women. Two LOUD ones, and me- the quiet, reserved one. My mother and sister aren't afraid to tell you how it is, whether it crushes your feelings or not. (My sister just openly and truthfully told my mother that she can't sing, there is a prime example). They just don't care. I could never be that way. I'm too afraid to hurt people's feelings. Either that or I am being passive aggressive and storing my frustration for another time when you least expect it (this is very unhealthy, I don't recommend it). No, I'm the quiet one. I like to keep to myself, and I very much enjoy it that way. I'm the sensitive, emotional one. I can not handle the amounts of estrogen in my household. My feelings get hurt easily. I get cranky easily. And people wonder why I can be unpleasant at times! I'll tell you why- estrogen overexposure. I recently found out from a scientific survey that I am what you call an introvert, and introverts like me need peace and quiet. There is rarely peace and quiet in the environment that I am living in. Also, let it be known that my sister just called me a turd bucket in hopes of making me cry.
What I really want is to move away somewhere obscure. Somewhere that's green out in the middle of nowhere where quiet really exists. I want to grow flowers and water them amidst the morning dew. Maybe I would actually learn how to cook and do so. That would be the day. I want to wake up in the mornings and do yoga in front of my big picture window. I want to be able to sit and read while my dog lays curled up somewhere in a corner. I want to be barefoot all of the time and drink herbal teas. I want to have really really long hair and feel comfortable with my translucent, mascara-less eyelashes. I want to do crafts and give them to people as gifts out of the kindness of my heart. My cabinets will be filled with organic foods, my mind will be full of wonder, and my heart will be full of love. Love for my sweetheart. Love for the earth. Love for the quiet that will envelop me out in the middle of my nowhere. And don't get me wrong, I love my family and would never want a life without them. But sometimes, baby birds just have to fly out of the nest.
As of today, I have realized that I have come to the point in my life where I really don't care about what to wear. You might be calling a B.S. on that one- but it's true. I have other, less materialistic things that I want to focus on. As long as I am somewhat color coordinated and comfortable, I'm not going to lose sleep over what I am going to wear the next morning. Shockingly enough, I wouldn't mind blending in for a while. I don't feel like being noticed for the textiles on my body. Quite frankly, I don't care if I get noticed at all. The only people that I am interested in noticing me are people who see my potential and can help me fulfill it. I am attending college to learn and find something to do with my life. I'm not paying thousands of dollars to socialize. Now don't get me wrong, some socialization is a key factor to a healthy life. But being the introvert that I am, fulfilling the "college life" stigma is not at the top of my priority list. I am here to impress my professors, not my colleagues. And as long as I am not scantily clad, I doubt that my professors care what I am wearing. If I wanted to impress anyone, it would be myself. Or my boyfriend. Luckily for me, he thinks that I am amazing just the way I am (props to Bruno). I want to focus on discovering what to do with my life. I want to love the earth and help those who need helping. I am more interested in enriching my life than enriching my closet. So give me yoga pants and nostalgic t-shirts. Give me Zak's clothes that I steal from his house and my ugly periwinkle Vibram Fivefingers. My mind is subject to change, but as of now I am standing my ground.
Life is seldom easy. I understand that. I accept it, even. That still doesn't mean that don't wish it to be another way. Where everything is good, wholesome and pure. There are many things that I do not understand- myself included. I would actually put myself at the top of the mystery list quite often. Are people like clay, malleable and ever changing due to the people and things that handle them, with the ability to reshape to the next set of hands? Or are we like slabs of marble, where once we've been carved there's no going back other than natural erosion or someone chipping away at you? I do not know. To the question of whether or not people can change, I say definitely. Absolutely. When you find something or someone that you realize you love more than you love yourself, anything is possible. If you really have the desire to change, you will find a way. Unfortunately, there is no way to change the past. What is done is done. Fortunately, the past is the past. Learn from your mistakes. Know what to not do again. That is the beautiful thing about something so painful; mistakes can be learning tools. If you are ever given a second chance, take it. That is called grace, my friend, and you won't come across it very often on this earth. Grace is a blessing that need not ever be taken for granted. Now we must accept that we are all humans and sometimes we can let our gratitude slip, but constantly be reminded of the gift you have been given. Do everything in your power to keep what you have, because someone gave it to you despite the fact that they had no reason to do so. Grace can not be explained, it is not logical, so save yourself the trouble and don't even try to figure it out. Just accept it and be thankful. Grace is a beautiful thing. Appreciate beautiful things.
Life might certainly not be easy, but gold will shine when it's encompassed with dirt. As Switchfoot brilliantly claims;
