Moving On….
Yesterday marked the last day of high school classes I will ever have to take. I don’t feel anything yet, perhaps a normal feeling toward incoming graduates? I hope this is so.
2009 Fine Arts Student of the Year
Shock and Awe
This was the clearest I could get it to be.
Shock and awe was what I felt this past Thursday, April 2nd, 2009, at approximately 9 PM. The Fine Arts Student of the Year is a major award in Osceola County. It is the major overall $3000 award you get amongst the $2000 dollar awards for different Arts categories (dance, instrumental music, vocals, and theatre). You get the Student of the Year for being the best out of all the students who audition for all categories.
Which is why I was shocked when my name was called.
Some of these kids were so amazing (one guy, William Daniels, who played Sergei Rachmaninoff’s “Etudes-Tableaux Op. 39 #6 in A Minor” like he was channeling the spirit of Rachmaninoff right on that stage) that they should be out there doing what they do professionally. I mean, don’t get me wrong, when I get out on that stage or infront of those judges or whomever, I give it my all. I try to put everything into my performance, but in no way did I see myself in the same league as these other guys.
At the end of the night, they started to announce the scholarships. When it got to the Theatre category, I was crossing my fingers with my girlfriend. Then, I heard it, “Rosalina Smith!” My heart sank, and I couldn’t hide it. Amber just hugged me really tight, then I got over it quickly, albeit with my usual downward look. Then I just started talking with her about something else when the Fine Arts Student of the Year announcement came about. Then I heard a familiar voice: Mr. Rupe. When he said “I have the honor of announcing that one of my students has won this award, which I won just 4 years ago,” or something to that effect, my ears perked up. “I would describe this student as the Charlie Brown of the class,” a line frequently used by him in my reference letters. I jumped out of my skin for joy. I kissed Amber and hugged her tight, headbutting her in the process. I could not believe it.
The curtains opened, and I went out on that stage, shaking the hands of every person I passed, hugged my old Music teacher (Debbie Fahmie), and, of course, hugged Mr. Rupe, the one who got me on that stage in the first place. Then, I got that plaque, the one I haven’t been able to keep my eyes off of since that night, and after another minute or so of awkwardly standing on the stage waiting until the woman on the podium was finished speaking, it was over. Unfortunately, I had to leave fairly quick after the show, so my evening ended fairly swift after that moment.
I am so happy to have gotten this award, and I do have to thank my parents for actually pushing me into theatre, Mr. Guiltner for seeing my potential, Mr. Rupe for bringing about my potential, and teaching me to stop “Acting” in order to be a better actor.
And I will use this same speech once I win my first Tony or Oscar…XD.
I’m Yours [Junior Year]
- The beginning of a beautiful relationship.
(Hopefully this sets me off for more frequent posts)
Another quarter over with…which means another year of high school to go over. Junior year was such a loaded year, and yet, as I’m finding with most of my memory, it just seems to be drifitng away from me, so forgive me if this post seems to be a bit sporadic.
The first thing that pops out at me about Junior year is, of course, Amber. April 19th, 2008 is the day we first became official, although we started talking for a few months before that, so she totally encompassed the latter half of 11th grade for me, which I am perfectly fine with. It’s an attraction which would baffle most, due to our intense differences (political views, general personalities, etc.) but one that has lasted us through a year of tumultuous times. Worth it? Well, you know the answer to that one.
Along with Amber, of course, State Competition ‘08 comes to mind. I didn’t get to perform at this one, which was bittersweet for me because I didn’t get to make up for last year, but also good due to the lack of stress placed upon me. This year at competition brought many memorable moments (incredible migrains, bugs in the butt, dolphins, and **** you, Luis, to name a few), but somehow I think Competition ‘09 will beat this one out of the water.
Junior year also saw the first year with Mr. Rupe. Due to my insecurities of Guiltner and Bonner being gone (as well as some negative comments about Rupe from a few now unreliable sources), it took me a little while to warm up to the new teacher. As a matter of fact, I let my…”opinions” be known to the world in a MySpace bulletin, which eventually made its way back to him, and I got a good talking to about it. Surprisingly, I felt intense remorse for the bulletin, something that I rarely felt at the time because of my big headed closed mindedness. After this incident, I quickly grew fond of Mr. Rupe, and am glad to say that he will go down in history as one of my major mentors, and probably one major reason why I’m where I’m at now both as an actor and as a person.
I had one more major moment in Junior year, but I can’t think of it right now. I’ll edit this post once I can come up with the lost memory.
3 quarters down, one to go. I just can’t believe how fast this year is going…I’m almost done. Just 5 more weeks.
Well, that plan didn’t work…
About a month ago I wanted to try shorter, more frequent blog posts, but due to recent events, I haven’t been able to post anything at all in about a month. New, more extensive updates will come soon.
And So The Rift Begins…
That oh so cursed rift between high school memories and college exploits. I’ve begun to feel that. I’ve just become so annoyed with everything in high school. Whether it be that nobody can do anything right, or I am chained down in a school full of idiots (“Aw dang, we actually have to read and write during this period…” YOU’RE IN HIGH SCHOOL YOU IMBECILE), or I feel betrayed by those whom I put all my trust into (see: teachers who feel like they have total control over your life).
I don’t want to lose my ties in high school. I’ve grown close with my circle of friends, but people keep telling me it’s just the natural progression of life.
Why does it seem like “natural progression” always involves losing people? That phrase should be banned from life.
Sayonara, 2008. You were definitely NOT ladylike to me. (A Year in Review)
It was at about this time that I reached my New Year's epiphany.
I guess this wouldn’t be a true blue blog without a “Year in Review” post.
I was debating with myself whether to do the Year in Review vlog, or blog post. One would definitely be funnier than the other…well, considering. I decided to stick to the blog, because if I started to make a video about the past year, I may start to get all emotional with it, and I made a vow to myself to not embarass myself with the emotional videos about high school nonsense.
I am all about order amongst personal chaos, and there would be no logical way to type this blog without separating it into categories (unless I wanted to just vomit words on a page and hope for the best), so I can’t think of any better way to start this Review with Family.
I think it was the very beginning of 2008 when I started to feel antsy about leaving the house for college. I started to grow some balls (which isn’t necessarily a good thing, IMHO) and talk back to my parents. Challenge their authority. Needless to say, I hit my teen angst phase a bit late into my teens. It’s funny, because one thing I’ve always told myself is that I wouldn’t become like my father, but looking back on this year, I’ve done a lot of stupid things that my father did in High School. I guess that’s one thing you just can’t avoid, no matter how much you want to fight it.
High School
My Failed Run for the Presidency
2008 was a crazy year for my high school career. The biggest personal event for me was my run for Senior Class President. Yeah, sure, I lost, but I got a lot more votes than I thought I would get. And it was those people who voted for me that I would want to represent as their president, not the mindless drones who voted popularity and false promises into office. Also, it was a lot of fun to go for the whole Dark Night campaign.
Friends
I am relieved to say that I have made a lot of new friends this year (which is bittersweet because this may be the last year I ever get to spend time with them), and I’ve rekindled (and renewed) some old friendships as well. Saying this, I, unfortunately, have grown apart from a few close friends. And one of my best friends I will never look at in the same way again. It just put in perspective for me who I should trust, and who I should let trust me, because I, unfortunately, will admit to being a very untrustworthy friend last year. I really am sorry to all of those whom I’ve hurt. I like to put up this front of everything being okay, but when I see those friends, I am filled with such guilt and personal anger. One resolution I made for this new year is to be more trusting AND trustworthy of my friends. If I don’t change, I’m afraid I’ll lose everyone. I’ve already lost the most important ones.
Love
This is a really tough subject for me, but I’m not going to censor myself (another resolution: be more blunt, because if I stay silent, no one will ever know how I’m truly feeling). I lost one amazing friend over this, and my relationship with another friend just won’t be the same for me ever again. My one regret is that we have never, and possibly will never have a man-to-man, one on one talk, to possibly resolve things (this is me trying to reach out to you, because I just can’t in person). I will sound incredibly insane for the next few minutes, but bear with me. This year, I thought I found the girl that I could spend the rest of my life with. It wasn’t our similarities which I liked, but how amazingly different we were. These differences brought on debates I will remember for the rest of my life. But I did something I will regret for the rest of my life: I got scared. I got scared, and I left her. I would always go back to her, but, in the end, I got this fear back. This fear that I would end up like my parents and be in such an acidic relationship where we just keep hurting one another, but we can’t live without each other. It took me four times to realize why I was running away, and what I was running away from. Letting all these idiotic distractions from my past get in the way. I realized this too late. And now she’s gone for good. I can never go back.
This left me in such a funk that I didn’t care who I would hurt, who I was talking to, I just kept going for any girl who would give me a minute, so I could just feel that I’m not this completely unattractive loser with nothing to offer anyone. It was a horrible thing to do, but I just didn’t care. I was so deeply hurt by everything that had happened.
But now, right before the new year rung, I think I might be okay. Still nursing these wounds (which get salt thrown on them every now and then), but now I may have found someone I could be happy with, just so long as I don’t screw it up. Like I always seem to do.
Now, because I wrote so much on that topic, doesn’t mean it’s at the forefront of my mind.
Personal Tragedy
Baby Weston
It’s been over three months, and I still don’t know what to say when this topic comes up. Last year saw the passing of my former drama teacher’s baby boy. Last month we all saw him for the first time in two years at a tree dedication ceremony for Weston. We brought up so many good memories, and kept the mood bright, which is what little Weston probably would have wanted. It was bittersweet, because while we were mourning this loss, the event brought some closure for me. Very symbolic to me, seeing how it took place toward the end of the year.
That was a LOT more lengthy than I thought it would be. I apologize folks.
I guess there isn’t anymore to say, other than…
Here’s to 2009. Hopefully this year will bring more laughter than tears, more joy than fears, more light than dark, and new journeys on which to embark. (I didn’t mean for that to all rhyme, but after the first couplet I decided…what the heck)
18 is 1 large number.
I noticed that I haven’t posted a blog for about a month, so I figured tonight would be a good night, if any, to post something. Just some words to describe how I’m feeling, being a legal adult now. And how do I feel?
Nothing. Not a bad nothing, like, apathy or anything. Not a good nothing, like relief. Just, nothing. This sort of worries me, because I know that this is the 1st of two birthday to end all birthdays (my 21st birthday being the end all/be all of important birthdays).
Eighteen is such an important age, and yet I feel like today just came and went without a blip on the map. I wish I could feel more, you know? Or at least have somebody tell me that they felt the same way toward this major event.
Maybe when I buy my first scratch card, then I’ll feel it, but right now, today’s just another day.
Coincidences Don’t Exist, and Niether Does Total Control.
Just a forewarning: I don’t think too many people will understand this post, and don’t ask, because I’ll be telling it here as clearly as I understand the situation…which is as clear as a retention pond.
There is an old….story, parable, whatever you would like to call it. It goes something like this: A man was living in a house, alone, when a terrible storm brewed. A police officer came to the house, knocked on his door, and asked him to evacuate the area. The man just responded “God will save me.” A few hours later, and the area started to flood, and the man’s house was knee deep with water. A rescue team came by the house on a boat and offered to take the man away. The man, who was praying, just said “God will save me.” A few hours pass. The man is now on his roof as the water rises. The National Guard comes in a helicopter. A rescue worker repels down to the man on the roof and screams for him to get into the helicopter. The man, on his knees, just said “God will save me.” The helicopter left, the water rose once more, and the man drowned in the current of the water. Now the man was in the presence of God and, furious, asked Him, “Why didn’t you save me?”
God just responded, “I sent you a warning, a boat, and a helicopter. You’re killin me here.”
That’s how I remember the story, anyway. Never has this story rung more true in my life than now. I keep getting shot after shot at the same thing, and I always blow it. I let my fear get in the way of true happiness. Fear of going in one great circle, and becoming the very thing that I hate. The very thing that makes me want to escape this house. This flood. I keep turning away my rescue, because I’m looking for some divine sign that this is how things should be. This is my path to my ultimate happiness.
That isn’t how it works. It’s not supposed to be obvious. It isn’t supposed to be a bright light coming from an opening in the clouds. All it has to be is a simultaneous glance.
I used to be afraid that I would become the Edward Hyde of my life, but now? The only thing I fear is that I’ve turned away my helicopter. Maybe the helicopter saved someone more deserving. Someone who doesn’t need a hammer, nail, and paper to remind them that a person is only given so many chances.
I need saving. I know now that I can’t pilot this plane by myself.
That’s always been a problem. I’ve always needed to feel like I was in control. I’ve applied to college and for scholarships by myself, I’ve never asked for help from a teacher, I’ve carried all the groceries in by myself, all the time. I’ve thought that a life of solitude would solve the world’s problems. That people don’t need me, and I could live without people. I don’t want that. I don’t want to be a hermit.
I’m sharing the controls now.
President Barack Hussein Obama
The 44th President of the United States of America
America finally has its first African American president, and I couldn’t be any more happier (of course that isn’t the ONLY reason I support Obama, but that is besides the point). Congrats, Mr. President-Elect.
November Rain Comes Again (like clockwork)
Before I begin, I want to stress the fact that I do not have it worse than any other person out there. I am not just whining, but after 17 years of this nonsense, I have a vehicle to channel my anger, frustration, and dispair if I should so choose, and after hearing a person have the courage to just put it all out there for his world (us) to hear, I think I can step it up too.
And I think I need to try and explain my changed attitudes as of late, which many people have noticed.
Right now I’m at the point where I don’t care who knows about my checkered past, I just know that if you are truly my friend, you would look past it, and not treat me, or anybody involved, any differently. And I’ve come to start thinking that some of you know a little piece of it anyway. All it would take is a simple google of “Roger Thacher”.
My father went to jail for 3 years. My middle school years. If you want me to get into why, then you ask me, but that’s not the point for this blog. He did his time, and is now on Probation. This means that he can’t live x amount of miles from certain places, he has to be home by 10 PM (which is the real reason why I can never get a ride home at night), and a bunch of other legal mumbo jumbo. He also can’t get a steady job because he has that big red mark on his record. He could have a job, but it requires him to work at night, so he went to a jude and got a pass to work nights. But he has a Probation Officer with a God Complex who will not let him do anything, so he’s stuck.
This lady likes to come into our house, “inspect” the place, and terrorize my father, who never does anything wrong. My dad learned his lesson already, and you all who have met my father have seen this. He isn’t a bad person, he just made one mistake in his life. She terrorizes my father, and it puts a strain on all of us. It has come to the point where he has to be afraid of going back to jail because this lady will not let up on him, as if he got out of jail for murder. This is killing the relationship between my parents, and it’s killing me.
Every time he gets worried like this, he freaks out, and my parents fight. I thought I escaped this after he went away because they used to fight a lot worse than they do now, but the levels are starting to creep up. After an episode like this, I can’t function. It took me an hour of this nonsense before I could rack up enough strength to turn on the computer. I have college essays, scholarship applications, homework, school projects, lines to memorize, Fundraisers to think about…all I have to put on hold (sometimes for days on end) because I am just mentally exhausted. That, or I can’t work amongst the yelling.
As often as this happens, I know for a fact that my parents need each other, no matter how acidic their relationship is, but it’s gotten to the point where I’m even thinking that they need to split, or that they will split once I go off to college. And I won’t be the least bit surprised, nor will I feel anything from it. I’ve gotten desensitized to my breaking point now, I suppose.
I’ve decided to do this for a few reasons. I’ve never had anybody but myself to go to about all of this stuff, and I’m starting to think that if I don’t, I will do something horrible to myself or to my friends. Also, recently I decided to tell one of my best friends about it, and he told me that he already knew part of it. A few months ago, for fun, he googled my name, and my father’s record is the first result (because we share the same name). For those who have found out and didn’t act any differently towards me or my father, you don’t know how much I have to thank you, because I know who my real comrades are.
I am not looking for anything. I know I’m sometimes labeled as a sort of drama queen, overexagerater, or just looking for attention or sympathy, but I’m not. When I make it obvious, I’m doing it for a laugh. I don’t look for special treatment, because I always find it awkward afterwards, trying to find the right way to simply say, “Thank You.” I just needed to vent. And finally, after 17 years of fights, yelling, horrible actions, and door slams, I have.
