theatre is my therapy

This is currently my favorite picture. 

Every time a show is put on, a family forms. A group with a bunch of inside jokes and secrets that only they really get. Non-theatre people can usually spot a theatre person from a mile away. Mostly because the theatre person is shouting at everyone who will (and won't) listen to come to their show. 

Because it's really good. I promise. Like, the best thing to happen onstage. Seriously. Come to the show. You won't regret it. ...please?...

The picture above is the 'Act One people' from The Devil and Daniel Webster. But that's not the whole picture. I see the horse collar that someone put Horace Oats on for opening night. I see the scruff marks on the devil's knees from being shoved to the ground every night. I see walls that have quotes and jokes written in Sharpie on the back. I see a podium that, on the last performance, had a microphone and phone taped to the back (a failed attempt at a prank). I see a Daniel Webster who had to down painkillers every night because of a serious knee injury. I see four people who rehearsed a play approximately 30 times and still got along after the fact.

(Shout-out to the ten 'Act Two people' who had to wait backstage for their chance to come onstage and be completely terrifying and awesome. I give extra props to the ones who managed to fall asleep while waiting.)

I just so happened to be lucky enough to get to be a part of the ideal cast. (Twice) And I'm so thankful for the impact these people have had on my life. During this in-between stage of my life where I'm not in school, it was such a relief to be a part of this group that accepted me in all my quiet craziness. There were multiple times when I was just behind the set, listening to the audience during the funny parts of our show, hoping they would laugh, when I thought I'm so glad I stayed home. This is why. This. Right. Here. Being a part of a collaborative effort got me out of my 'all of my friends left' slump (which is totally not true. The majority of my friends either haven't graduated yet, aren't at college, or are a Facebook message away. I just like to feel sorry for myself sometimes.) and back into reality. 

Not a ton of people came to see the show. But the ones that came got a good show. I'm not even biased. We put on a good show. So, thank you to my cast mates. Thanks for being amazing. I can't wait to work with you all again. 

Today is the Day

Today is the day I would be moving in to my dorm and unpacking my things ready to start a new chapter in my life. People would be giving me life advice and well wishes on my Facebook wall. My stomach would be flip-flopping and I'd be trying not to cry as I hugged my family good-bye. My friends from camp and I would be reuniting after years of not seeing each other. 

But today isn't the day. Today is just another day. The only thing that makes this day different than yesterday is that my social media is blowing up with pictures and exclamations points and '#Classof2019' plastered everywhere. 

Since I was little I had planned on going to college right away. To be honest, I never really wanted to. But I had a plan. Until I changed my mind. Until I turned down my ideal school three times for what seemed like no reason at all. I answered phone calls, explaining why I couldn't take money and would they please wait for a year for me to figure myself out a little bit.

So, no. I'm not joining my peers at college today. I won't be #Classof2019.

Today I'm working on homeschool blog posts for the upcoming 50's musical. I'm memorizing lines for a show where I get to yell in the devil's face and profess my love for a hell-bound farmer in front of a jury of dead people. I get to go to work and train one of my dear friends on how to serve up fudge and count up the till. I'm knitting up sweaters. 

I won't be experiencing the same things that my friends will. I get to do different things. Crazy, weird things. And that's okay. I cannot wait to hear stories about school and college. I've loved this summer of spending time with people I won't be seeing this year. I've loved paying in cupfuls of change at WalMart, going on rollercoasters and not throwing up, getting my ears double pierced in front of passersby at the mall, catching shoplifters in the act, helping some awesome people write up puppet scripts for day camps this summer, and getting back into community theatre after a year off. 

I have to continually remind myself that just because the things I'm experiencing and going through are different doesn't mean that they aren't just as important. Even though I won't be studying from a curriculum like my siblings (BTW, it's super weird not being a part of the school year in my house. Watching my siblings studying without having the feeling that I should be doing the same is something I wasn't ready for. I've resorted to curling up in my room to read and knit) I will still be learning this year. I have the opportunity to stretch myself outside my boundaries and figure out who I am outside of school. 

 I've gotten a good deal of confused - or even pitying - looks, but the incredible amount of support that I've received far outweighs any negativity. I'm thankful for the people that I'm surrounded with and I can't wait to spend this year with them. 

July

July started out with a family reunion/mass graduation, birthday, and anniversary party/cheese factory tour (because how else would you want to start out the 4th of July weekend??). Check out the super-fashionable booties pictured above and feel free to be as jealous as you like. 

Family reunions are a ton of fun especially when stories about flying planes, driving with past presidents, and getting struck by lightening start going around.

Two days *after* the family extravaganza I was bagging candy at work when the realtor next door to the candy shop started knocking on the storeroom door. Turns out tornado sirens had gone off and I had missed them. A few minutes later the phone call from my boss confirmed that there was in fact a tornado and that I should go in the backroom or the flower-shop basement to stay away from the windows (yes, in case you were wondering, half the stores in my town are connected to the candy shop). 

Except for -really- needing to go to the bathroom, we made it out of the backroom without a scratch. Plus, I got to chill with a realtor behind shelves of taffy and gummi worms for forty-five minutes. That's not something you go through everyday, We decided that if we didn't make it out of the storm alive, death by being smothered in candy wouldn't be the worst way to go.

Meet Camellia. My new partner in crime. She's pretty fantastic. We went on our first adventure together this past week when I got called in to be the un-official official photographer for my church's VBS.

I'm super excited to work with her a lot more this year...

untitled

The inward battle of right and wrong.

Heavy metal vs. quiet love song.

Bending memories to forget the truth.

Destroying evidence to remove the proof.

Ashamed of yourself. What you've become.

Wishing to go back, retry, move on.

Stuck in a cycle - you can't quite break free.

Still learning to live and beginning to see

That you aren't defined by the things that you've done. 

You aren't a mess. Your battle's been won.

The past will stay there. It cannot be changed.

The future's what you make it. Just don't be afraid. 

Since Everyone Else Is Doing It

I got back from a week of vacation to find the internet had blown up. Facebook is full of rainbow filtered profile pictures and hate comments. I became exhausted just reading everything. I do want to put my opinion out there, however. At the end of the school year, I wrote up a paper about gay marriage. I'm going to post it below and not return to this subject on my blog because, like I said, I'm tired of it. 

There tends to be two sides portrayed by the media when it comes to the issue of gay marriage. 

The 'no tolerance'-'God hates gays' extremist Christians and 'everyone deserves 

happiness', understanding liberals. The topic seems to have been wrung dry by online bloggers, TV 

newscasters, and argumentative friends at the lunch table or Facebook comment feed. There's a 

group that tends to get left out of these discussions, and that's the 'observer who doesn't want to 

argue, but disagrees with both sides of the issue'. Christians need to treat everyone they talk to 

with a love that stems from Jesus. Remembering that all humans, including themselves, are soaked 

in sin and deserve hell is necessary when discussing the wrongdoings of others. 

The Bible straight up says that homosexuality is a sin and should, therefore, be avoided. It is 

a sinful perversion, and veers from the guidelines put in place from the start of the world. 

Purposefully living against those guidelines and not making any effort to repent and change sinful 

ways shows rejection toward God and his creation. Gay marriage is a blatant way of expressing 

the sin of homosexuality. 

God made males and females different for a reason. Adam and Eve needed each other to 

build each other up and to populate the earth. Even from an evolutionary standpoint, being in a 

gay relationship doesn't reap the benefits that a relationship between a man and woman would. It's 

physically impossible for two males or two females to naturally have a child together and continue 

the human race. It's not denying happiness to say that marrying someone of the same sex is wrong, 

it's a way of looking out for people who have sinful urges. 

An argument that is heard frequently in favor of gay marriage is that they were 'born that 

way'. This is completely and 100% true. Every single person is born with sin and they live with 

that sin their entire lives. Each person's struggles are different. Their struggles could range from 

anger issues, lust, jealousy, fear, homosexuality, etc. How people deal with those struggles 

determines who they are and their faith life. Someone could identify themselves as gay, but later in 

life go to God and counselors with their problems. Someone else could grow up going to Sunday 

school and church every week, but fall out of faith because of an alcohol addiction or drug 

problem that they refuse to seek help for. 

People don't want to hear that what they feel or the things that they do are wrong. It's the job 

of a Christian to help others and tell them about Jesus. Part of helping others is telling them 

when they're doing something wrong. In some circumstances, this duty gives Christians a 

judgmental sense of entitlement where instead there should be a desire to help rooted in love. When 

approaching the subject of homosexuality, Christians should keep in mind that they are talking to 

humans who are just as set in their mind as they are. Too often, a desperate need to be right 

overcomes the need to be kind. 

It's important to remember that although there will be homosexuals in hell, there will also be 

people who claimed to be a Christian. Only God can see into people's hearts and see what sort of 

faith they have.

Graduation

Graduation caps are ugly and there is no way to fix that. People may decorate them or scour Pinterest for tutorials on how to pin them back (note: while this sort of works, it will feel like you're always about to lose your cap. It's probably not worth it.), but that doesn't hide the fact that it's a piece of cardboard resting on top of your head. Let's not even get into tassels, especially dysfunctional ones that fall apart every few minutes.  

But seriously. Like I've said before - I don't like being told I don't get to do something. I was jump up and down in my seat excited to wear a cap, gown, and tassel. But Pomp & Circumstance started my stomach totally flopped. 

Why was I so nervous?!

Seriously, there's nothing to be scared about, but I'm pretty sure every graduate feels similar right before the ceremony. That sort of rush of *is this really happening?* *I thought only grown ups graduated* *Does that make me one of the grown ups? That's weird.* *What if I fall or drop the diploma or something?*

I didn't fall. I didn't drop my diploma. I am an adult (with no intentions of growing up ;) -kidding-). I didn't give a speech (except to say thank you :) ). I walked down the aisle. I pledged allegiance to the flag. I watched and laughed at pictures in the slideshow. My stomach flopped again when it was announced that the presentation of the diplomas was about to begin. My mom gave a wonderfully sweet speech, my dad handed me my diploma, and that was it. I got to stand up and turn my tassel in front of a church of people. -I got to toss that hideous hat off of my head- 

Since I didn't make a speech, I thought I'd write a few words here instead. 

I mentioned in my 'thank-you' that my parents were supportive. To give you an idea of just how supportive they are, I came downstairs one day and said that, even though I'd been planning on going to a particular college for about five years, I wanted to stay home to make a documentary and start a theatre group. Instead of telling me that it probably wasn't smart to put off education, they told me that they loved the idea and would support me regardless of what I decided to do. 

I don't know how to express in words all that my parents have done for me. Especially when it comes to my education. I'm so thankful that I was homeschooled. It's not right for everyone, but it was just right for me (even though I didn't always see it). As the 'test child' ( ;) ), I got to experience a large variety of curricular. We joke about how my mom doesn't like to stick to one curriculum, but in all seriousness, I liked it. I liked switching it up before I got bored. I like consistency, but when it comes to learning, I tend to zone out when it gets monotonous. Thankfully, it never did. :)

When I say that I like consistency, I mean that I don't like change. I don't like trying new things because it's scary. I need to be pushed into things. My poor parents have had to stay up with me talking and talking and talking to convince me to make decisions. Because of those talks and gentle pushes, I've become a more decisive (and sometimes impulsive, but in my case that's a positive) and independent person.

So I'm sending this big thank you out to my parents for always being there for me, supporting me, and pushing me when I needed it. 

In Defense of Harry Potter

I didn't have a picture for this post, but I still have a plethora of old photos on the computer thanks to graduation slideshows and poster-boards. I'm thinking this one could tie in to the family aspect of the below post. Maybe? I don't know. 

Warning: I wrote this post up during a two-hour quiet spell (pun intended) at work. It probably doesn't make a whole lot of sense (as if anything I post on the internet does ;) ), but it's something I've been thinking about, so there you go. Feel free to read or not read.



My parents didn't want me to read Harry Potter. I didn't want to read Harry Potter. My seven

year old self thought it sounded silly. Then I started hearing more and more about it from 

my cousins and people I met at camp. I have a memory from the summer of 2006 when my 

dad was working on building our (then) new garage. I went up to him and asked if I could  please read Harry Potter. My parents came back to me with the decision that yes, I could buy Harry Potter *if* we did it as a family read-aloud.

All sorts of articles were swimming around the Internet at that time (and now) about the evils of Harry Potter. And understandably so. Witchcraft, spells, potions, all sorts of controversial topics made parents uneasy.

Harry Potter isn't for everyone. I lent my first three books to a friend a few years ago, and they enjoyed the books enough to read them, but not to continue. There are people who read Harry Potter or Hunger Games and disagree with the messages of the books, or simply don't like them. I have absolutely nothing against those people! I don't even have anything against people who don't want to read Harry Potter for religious reasons. I do think people should give it a chance.

I remember waiting until dad got home from work so he could read to us. I remember his Hagrid voice. I remember once he was so tired that he dozed off while reading and I thought it was the funniest thing in the world (I didn't have enough respect for his exhaustion to let him stay asleep. I had to know what happened next!). I remember my feeble attempts at making scarves in Gryffindor colors. I remember being spoiled on what happened at the end of book six. 

I remember waiting for book seven to come in the mail (and waiting until after mom read it and a week of camp to be able to read it myself). Going to my first ever midnight release with my mom and friends to see the very last movie (and seeing it later that day with dad and brother after sleeping for a few hours). 

Over the past few months, my little sister has been reading the books. My parents were a little hesitant to let her read the last two books on her own, so we listened to the audio books as a family.

It was absolutely great watching her react to the things that happened in the book. It was like I was reading them again for the first time. She cried and had outbursts of triumph at all the right parts. We were able to pause in case she had questions. My sister's two favorite characters were Dobby and Neville, so for those of you who have read the last book, you can imagine the reactions she had. ;)

Personally, I don't think there's anything wrong with Harry Potter. There's magic, yes. There is divination and spellcasting, but that's not what the book is about. -cue cheesy music- Harry Potter is a story about Good vs. Evil wrapped up in spiderweb plotlines, seasoned with about five complex characters with Latin-roots. Taking apart the names is a school lesson in itself. ;)


I'm thankful for the family experience that Harry Potter was for me. I'm thankful for the world it was able to take me to, and I'm thankful for the stories I hear from around the globe about the positive influences Harry Potter has had on other people's lives. I don't think Harry Potter is a substitute for religion, however. People *shouldn't* let their world's revolve around a boy wizard who had dorky, relate-able friends. There's a difference between getting wrapped up in a story and letting it take you to a different place, and trying to stay in that place forever. 

That's true for any young adult series, but Harry Potter fans in particular get portrayed as manic and obsessive (in an unhealthy way).

This is one of my favorite videos on YouTube when it comes to describing healthy enthusiasm. (0:42 - 1:41 for Harry Potter stuff :) )

In short - as one of the few Potterhead homeschoolers in existence, I feel it's my duty to speak up and say that Harry Potter didn't scar me (pun intended) and it didn't turn me into a rebellious, spell-casting teenager. I urge you to give it a chance, and if you don't like it, or find something objectionable in it, I wouldn't be offended in the slightest. In fact, I'd really like to hear what you have to say in the comments below. 

Thanks, guys! 

In Which I Got To Be Cinderella

After actively planning prom for six months (and mentally planning for four years...), it actually happened. 

I don't like being told that I don't get to do something. I didn't like answering 'So, what do you do for prom?' whenever anyone found out I was homeschooled (anyone else notice how that's usually the first question? Access to prom does not define an education, people. They can be incredibly fun, though. :) ). When the opportunity to head up the prom committee fell in my lap, I couldn't say no!

1 week before-

Who knew it would take over an hour and a half to add straps to a dress? Not this girl. 

When I was done, though, I stayed in the dress for about an hour because, well, why not?

I found shoes last minute at Goodwill. After a two hour supper, the shoes made it into the prom building, but came off before the first dance. I don't recommend going barefoot at prom. You're feet will get stepped on and will get covered in dirt, but hopefully the adrenaline will cover up any pain until you get home at 1am. 

2 days before-

I tried out my fake nails so I could get used to them by dance day. Probably not the best idea. Two of them disappeared into thin air over the course of prom night and one of them got stuck in my hair -during a dance- -with a boy-  (I don't think he noticed me casually toss my fingernail onto a nearby table...I did pick it up at the end of the song, in case you were wondering.)

Day of-

I woke up at 5am, showered, set things out, and headed out to start decorating. Mom warned me that decorating would take longer than I thought it would. I didn't believe her. 

But I should have.

I was so thankful for my committee. After over three hours of tulle twirling and lantern hanging, everything was done.

One Wal-Mart and Burger King stop later and I got home to curl my hair in ten minutes before dance class. (Going out into the world with curlers is an experience that is not only humbling, but hilarious.)

The after.

To my little sister's dismay and not my own, I didn't have a prom date. However, while taking pictures, mom noticed this iguana/lizard thing. I decided that I should take a picture with him. He was my official date for the five seconds it took to take the picture. He then got tossed in the grass.

I didn't take any pictures during prom itself, so you'll have to trust me when I say that it was one of the best nights of my life. I was definitely biased, but everything turned out just as I hoped it would. Doing the grand march to Through Heaven's Eyes from Prince of Egypt, taking committee pictures in the photo booth, and laughing about obnoxious things made all of the planning and stress absolutely and 100% worth it.

Take down was made less depressing by the fact that we had a bunch of food to eat up. Plus, I got so distracted by talking to wonderful people, that by the time I had changed out of my dress, other wonderful people had taken care of the worst of it. 

Even though it was quarter to 1 by the time I pulled into my driveway, I couldn't sleep until after 2am because of all the adrenaline rushing through my brain.

I ate very little at prom itself. The next morning, however, I had one of the amazing left-over red velvet cupcakes for part of my breakfast. Even though it hurt to move (definitely regretting the 'no-shoe' decision), the cupcakes and boxes of masks, lanterns, beads, and candles made it all better.

My Two Cents on Modesty

I know it's over-talked about (especially in the homeschool circle) but modesty has been on my mind lately. 

By my definition, modesty is a way of respecting yourself and the people around you. It's not a matter of how high or low or tight your clothes are. 

When you respect yourself, you're not only keeping covered the things that should obviously be covered, but you're comfortable. When you respect yourself, you feel confident. Not self-conscious. 

When you respect the people around you, you're aware of how you dress and if the clothes that you have on would offend the group that you'll be interacting with.

I have very little to say about this topic, and anything else I would say has most likely already been said in a more eloquent fashion (see what I did there?). I just wanted to explain to the world why I think it's okay to wear a shirt that goes over only one shoulder, or a swimsuit that shows your belly button. 

I'm not saying I advocate flaunting your body everywhere. I do advocate being comfortable and confident. I advocate respect and I advocate keeping modesty simple.

It Feels Weird

Throughout my whole education, I had this voice at the back of my head telling me that I should be doing schoolwork. I should be catching up or working ahead. This voice didn't drive me crazy. In fact, I was pretty good at ignoring it. I shot down that voice with excuses reasons such as 'I need to reply to these e-mails', 'I'm hungry', 'I'm sick', and the most frequent 'It's just too cold'. If I hadn't been such a procrastinator, I may not have had that voice. Being homeschooled, I (for the most part) was in charge of my own schedule. My poor parents. They should have had t-shirts made with a list of reminders like 'It might be a good idea to switch your laundry', 'how's that Chemistry test coming along?', and 'you should probably do your history reading'.

I killed that voice today. It feels weird. I definitely feel the absence. I finished high school. I finished my home education. 

I survived Driver's Ed (even though I got asked questions about school bus rules and regulations on the second day. Why the instructor picked the awkward homeschool kid in the back row is still a mystery to me. ;) )

I lived through science co-ops complete with organ-less crayfish and smoking blenders.

I managed to get through Pre-Calc; braces; the PSAT, ACT, and SAT; takings tests while sibling sat on my head; and late night paper writing sessions.

I also survived The Haircut of '08...one of the more difficult challenges

I loved doing schoolwork outside until it got too cold/windy/rainy. I loved curling up under millions of blankets and listening to schoolbooks on tape. I loved going into town in the middle of a school day when the store were quiet (I probably could've done without the young mother comments and looks, though).

Now the voice is dead and it's sinking in that I'm done.

I made the decision (after hours of talking and crying and talking and crying) to stay home for a year (Note: the crying wasn't because I didn't want to stay home. The crying was simply from the frustration of not knowing what I wanted to do) and do a bunch of things that will be fun, random, and a little bit scary.

I have an entire year ahead of me to push myself. To get out of my introvert shell and become more me. I closed my schoolbooks for the last time today and I also ended this chapter of my life (How's that for cheesy?). 

I'm really excited to start the next one. 

Here's a picture of me almost falling off of a camel. Just because. 

The Do's & Don't's of Planning Your Homeschool Group's First Prom

Source

Do rely on your committee members because without them you are nothing. Sorry if that hurts your ego, but it's true. It's impossible to plan a prom by yourself. Well, maybe not impossible. It is impossible to plan an *amazing* prom by yourself. Different ideas, talents, strengths, and resources are crucial. I've been incredibly blessed with the committee I get to work with. It also helps to have a mom who's willing to paint for hours and contact the venue after you've given up hope. :)

Don't try to do the music list in one sitting. Attempting to do so may result in losing all motivation for months at a time. Having Spotify on in the background while doing more productive things will work wonders. Plus, you're being super efficient. ;)

Do scour Pinterest for hours on end.

Don't spend so much time on Pinterest that you end up in the weird part of the internet (taco cake pops, anyone?)

Do walk up and down the party aisles of Wal-Mart and the Dollar Store. Spend as much time as necessarily going through any GoodWill you happen to drive past. Not only will you find some awesome deals (five pounds of Mardi Gras beads and a wooden birdcage for 50 cents, for instance), but you burn all the calories you consumed appetizer taste-testing.

Don't spam your friend's Facebook feeds with prom updates/questions. Especially if the majority of your friends won't be attending prom or aren't even homeschooled.

Do be prepared for concerned parents and students. I promise that they aren't mad at you or what you're trying to do. 'Prom' tends to have negative associations, and it's important to take into account everyone's concerns. A homeschool prom isn't (and shouldn't be) a public or even a private school prom. Homeschoolers already do things a little differently, prom will be the same way. (And that's seriously fantastic! Where else would you find a prom during which there will be rocking out to Cotton Eyed Joe, Disney, and Broadway? That's what I thought ;) )

Don't take your committee members for granted. This is pretty much the same as what I mentioned before, but it's important, so I'm saying it again.

Do research places that sell reasonably-priced, modest (or easily alterable) dresses or dress patterns. This is one of the most difficult parts of the whole prom experience. Unfortunately, it's not very easy to find modest dresses, but it is possible, and when people ask you for dress shopping recommendations, you'll have someone to direct them.

Don't wait until last minute to alter your dress. Even though everything will turn out fine, the fact that you have a dress-code-breaking dress in your closet will gnaw at you. ;) This should probably go for buying your shoes, purse, jewelry, etc. Things will get hectic and in the whirlwind of planning the actual prom, you may forget that this is also your prom.

Do relax. Everything will be fine.

Don't freak out at any point. Everything will be fine.

It's actually really fun to plan a prom. Especially with the right committee and attendees.

The Aftermath

Putting on a musical is a lot of work. Every year I forget and then re-learn just how many elements need to be put together to put on a show. Advertising & fundraising; costumes, make-up, and hair for the cast (in this case, 74); mic co-ordination, sound effects, music, and lights; and trying to get into a locked theater make for a crazy-amazing experience.

I can't gush enough about how amazing the casts that I've gotten to work with over the past six years are. Some of my peers have become family. Getting dandelion/random weed bouquets from younger kids on the last day is one of the best feelings in the world. I really, really love my fellow cast members.

Theatre itself has taught me so much about myself and what my limits are. I've grown more through the past six years than I ever thought possible. Being onstage with the group for the last time was strange. I was feeling so many things it felt like I was feeling nothing at some points and everything at others. Okay, enough mushiness.

As a high school senior, I'm told every other day to really take in and savor every moment. I came to the conclusion a while ago that I can't really savor moments any more than I do when I just 'live' in the moments. In an attempt to 'savor' my last homeschool musical, I decided to put together a backstage, all-access pass, behind-the-scenes video. Enjoy ;)

Every Girl Needs a Tiara

Because sometimes everything goes wrong. And when that happens, a tiara has the magical power to make problems go away. 

Princesses don't have time for problems. They're too busy being a princess.

I'm Thankful For...

...a theatre family that puts up with me spinning into them, petting a stuffed skunk for half an hour like a crazy person, or nearly ripping their face off instead of their ski-mask/helmet. Fellow cast members that go on adventures to the post office with me to pick up a stage manager's car keys (even if they did plot something sinister with bobby pins and mud holes...).

...a dad who helps me figure out how to fix the program for the musical. Before I could even go into full-on freakout mode...You just needed to save it in 'landscape' instead of 'portrait'...*facepalm*

In case you're wondering, this is what 123 business cards look like. 

...friends who will drive to a friend's wedding to see you for an hour between the ceremony and the reception. And stuff you so full of chicken nuggets and fries that you're barely able to eat any of your 'actual' supper.

...a job at a candy shop. I'll stop talking about it someday, but that day is not today. Last week, for the first time, I got to be the only person working. The first customer I had all by myself said he'd never been in the shop before, but ended up buy five pounds of fudge. He told me his father had esophageal cancer (something I learned about this summer) and that because fudge practically melted in his mouth, he was able to eat it without any pain. This customer also told me how lucky I was to have my first job in a candy shop instead of hauling boxes into trucks. It is pretty cool. Even if kids spit out jelly beans wherever they feel like. 

...the ability to stay in bed most of the day. When it hurts to move and you can't talk, it's a relief to not have to call in sick. All I have to do is tell my mom (in a super-attractive husky voice, that is).

What are some things you're thankful for? :)

Another Post About Adulthood & A Candy Shop Horror Story

Check out my wonderful co-worker :) (We aren't that blurry in real life)

Adulthood is a series of numbers to memorize. That, and paperwork ( I can fill out my basic information backwards, with my eyes closed, and one hand tied behind my back). But mostly numbers. I've learned memorizing your social security number as soon as possible is incredibly helpful. If I would have memorized mine when my mom first suggested it, I could have avoided ten minutes of frantically calling home while in a parking lot, trying to fill out a job application. Uhm, yeah, could you find my social security card? It also would have saved me an awkward half hour of pitiful conversation at our local technical college's registration information night while my mom drove home to get (you guessed it) my social security card.

There's also the responsibility element of adulthood. This has been a thankfully gradual process, I'm not paying for my own food, water, and shelter yet. But I do get to vote this coming week. The excitement I have about getting to wear a 'I Voted' sticker is probably a sign that I'm not as grown up as I'd like to think I am. Another sign is dragging my dad into the bank with me to set up a checking account. 'Do you need me?' 'Well, no...butdon'tleaveme!' 

-I did do the talking, for the record. I even had to give my mother's maiden name for the first time. That was weird.-

Even though I'm no where near 'qualified' to give 'adult advice', to any underage readers out there:

Adulthood is full of 'already adults' who are willing to teach you to 'adult'. 

This includes nice bank workers. Parents. Your boss. Not all grown-ups are scary. Actually, most grown-ups aren't scary at all. They're willing to help. And I definitely need it. :) I needed it when I rang up the wrong total for a customer and I'll need it continuously in the next few weeks months years. 

Random story that I don't have a good transition for: I had a customer come in last week who came straight up to the register and stated he had a special request. He proceeded to say something that, for the life of me, I could not understand. I asked him to repeat it and I still had no idea what he was saying. Assuming that he was asking if something was in stock, I turned to my boss, who was wrapping up a conversation on the phone, and asked Do we?

Turns out the man was asking if I liked Phantom of the Opera because that's what was playing on Pandora station when he came in. The poor man was trying to make conversation and I managed to make him feel very confused.

 The special request turned out to be chocolate in the shape of a skunk, in case you were wondering.

A First Time For Everything - Part 2 | Rejection

After going over 18 years without having any sort of job interview, I managed to schedule two separate interviews within three days of each other.

Since I was in 3rd grade, I've wanted to be a camp counselor. Little did I know, the process of hiring camp counselors can get much more complicated than 'Are you good with kids?' 'Yup!'.

Over Christmas break I filled out the initial application. A couple of weeks ago I went down to camp and had my interview.

It lasted around an hour and a half and was perfectly awkward. I'd heard about 'the interview' all through my years at camp. And then it happened. And it was over. And I was still alive.

*Something I've been learning is that no matter how much you build something up in your mind and no matter how nervous you are about something, it passes. And you'll survive. Anyways.*

And I didn't get the job.

And it was okay.

That's it. It was okay, and I was okay. I had a moment of disappointment. A moment of I wasn't good enough. Why wasn't I good enough? I'm going to have to see my friends work at this job while I'm at home. 

-but then-

I have my summer free. I can go on vacation. I'm missing out on a summer at my favorite place in the world, but I have a chance to make this summer what I want it to be. It doesn't mean I wasn't good enough, it means that I wasn't meant to be at camp this summer. Other people were meant to be at camp this summer. I was meant to be at a candy store this summer! A candy store!

Speaking of which, I'm just about a week in and I've already had a nightmare about handling fudge without gloves. It's pretty scary, I tell you.

Also. The chocolate cravings. Being around sugar for hours at a time makes me want to eat as much of it as I can. (Luckily, I found this super-delicious, sugar-free, single-serving fudge recipe, and not getting a job is a good excuse to have some chocolate)

I have one of the greatest trainers and some of the sweetest (pun intended) customers. I'm so thankful and so blessed to have the opportunities I have to make this summer my own.

Now I just need to graduate....

My attempt at being deep/hopeful/wistful

A First Time For Everything - Part 1

There's a first time for everything.

I'm not a 'first time' person. I get that doing things I've never done before is important and helps me grow as a person and everything. I just really dislike the idea of things until I'm used to them.

The first time I tried canning, I burned my toe. I ended up burning my hands and arms at different times, of course, but I managed to burn my big toe first. (It takes talent, I tell you ;) )

The first time I ever went driving, I had to get pulled out of the ditch. Not because the weather was bad or because my instructor failed to tell me something. In fact, it was a sunny, fall afternoon and my ever-patient dad had to coax me into going over five miles per hour. I ended up in the ditch thanks to a combination of my unawareness of the power of acceleration and my lack of turning the steering wheel more than 3 inches at my first stop sign.

So...I put off my first job interview for as long as I could. 

I should wait until I have my license, I wouldn't want my parents to drive me to and from a job...

I'll wait until after summer, I don't know when I'll get scheduled for camp...

I shouldn't get a job when I'm doing so many theatre things...it would just stress me out too much...

Then I got a call from a shop that I'd filled out an application for in a moment of bravery/motivation about five months ago. I listened to the voice-mail a few times to make sure I was hearing it correctly. 

The next morning after literally 20 minutes of building up the courage to call back (the fear of doing new things is real, I tell you), the call didn't go through. Well, it did, but I could hear the other side of the conversation, but the other side of the conversation couldn't hear me. (Hello?....Uhm..hello?)

I took it as a sign that I shouldn't schedule an interview. 

My parents disagreed with the revelation.

I called back, and the interview was scheduled. I was so giddy. I was embarrassingly giddy. 

I've said this millions of times and I'll say it again. Phone calls are so awful. 

Fast forward three days and I'm waiting outside the candy shop (yup, candy shop :) ).

The interview itself wasn't even scary. Don't get me wrong, just because I came out alive doesn't mean I wasn't awkward. Half-way through, some customers knocked on the door and came in. Am I supposed to help them look for something? Should I just stand to the side so it doesn't seem like I'm sucking up? (I stood to the side and attempted some conversation. They did buy a handful of Strawberry Cheesecake Taffy because of my recommendation, so there was that.)

I also answered a questions with 'I'd do anything that needs to be done in the store and make sure there weren't bugs crawling out of the walls or something...not that there would be...I mean...' facepalm

I guess my awkwardness came off as likability, or they -really- needed someone ;) , because I got hired before leaving. 

Again, embarrassing giddiness.

Official Adulthood | A Tale of Spray Paint and Pickles

My first day of adulthood consisted of watching Netflix, a wonderful play practice, Chinese food, a surprise cake, and a movie. In my opinion, there isn't a better way to spend a day.

What's really exciting, though, is buying spray paint. I'm not even kidding. I've been joking about buying spray paint for years, and, by complete coincidence, I ended up needing spray paint (and pickles) a couple days after I legally entered adulthood. A friend of mine had told me about a way to make masks with hot glue, and I wanted to try it out, with black spray paint.

Saturday afternoon, I drove into town and headed straight for the paint section when I entered Wal-Mart. I had promised my Sunday School class a treat for memorizing the 10 Commandments, so (of course) I needed to find the pickles. 

This was one of the hardest things I've ever had to do in Wal-Mart. I'm not even kidding.

It hadn't crossed my mind that Saturday afternoon is when all the moms drag along their husbands and kids to go shopping. I say drag because not a single man I saw in the store looked happy to be there. Little kids and grown men with carts were literally lined up at the end of aisles while packs of women wove their way through the shelves to grab what they needed. 

I haven't done much grocery shopping on my own. I know how to get to the milk and bread, but a thing like pickles....Let's just say all the aisles started to look the same, and I had no idea which shelves I had checked.

So there I was, trying not to step on anyone or knock anything over, holding my can of spray paint.

Eventually, I did manage to find the pickles, and I waited in line at the check-out, clinging my pickles and spray paint to my chest (I didn't want anyone to steal them, you know?).

The nice older lady finally rung up my can of paint and the green letters on the screen flashed 'VERIFY CUSTOMER IS 18 OR OLDER', so I pulled out my ID.

"1997 makes you 18?"

"Uhm...yeah." 

"Okay, I'll trust you."

In her defense, I'm sure if I was buying cigarettes she would have made sure that I was 18 instead of trusting my math skills. 

It did make for an anti-climactic 'first carding', though. The spray paint made it better. ;)

I spent a good forty-five minutes gluing on sparkles. It was time very well spent.