Wednesday, February 20, 2013

Man's Best Friend

Ernest Hemingway once said, "There is no friend as loyal as a book." It's true. As long as there are books to read, I find it difficult to be lonely. I love vacation time when I can stay up late on my own accord and just read. I can stay up as late as I want and not worry about getting up early tomorrow morning.

Right now I'm tackling what is perhaps the hardest book I have read yet: "Les Misérables" by Victor Hugo. My goal was to have it finished by the time we perform the play mid-March at my school, but considering it is over 1000 pages and I'm only about 225 pages in, I don't think that's going to happen. I'm taking my time with it, annotating it, looking up the history. People always ask the question, "If you had to be stranded on an island with only one book, what book would that be?" I never had an answer. Now I do. "Les Misérables."

It's a book I could read a hundred times and find something new every time. Whatever boy troubles I have, whatever drama there is at school, no matter how lonely I may feel, I know I can always curl up with "Les Misérables." 

Thursday, February 14, 2013

"A Heart Full of Love"

I love curls in my hair. I love opening night in the theatre. I love homemade oatmeal. I love dark chocolate and almonds. I love running at sunset. I love switching my contacts for glasses at night. I love the woods in the winter. I love singing in the car with the windows down. I love eating with a spoon. I love analyzing Shakespeare.

I love many things, and today was the day for loving. Today was " A Heart Full of Love" (to quote Les Mis).

My day started early today (4am) with writing, which, alongside acting, is one of my greatest loves. I worked on my submission for a writing camp. I made myself a cup of tea and worked until 6. I took out my Flintstone's bun and my curls failed––I guess wearing the stupid bun on top of my head in front of the hot junior in my driving lesson yesterday didn't count for anything. Regardless, the curls looked good enough in a ponytail.

For breakfast, raspberry and chocolate chip heart-shaped pancakes on a heart-shaped plate.

Above, my pancake with whipped cream and Nelson's Candy deluxe chocolate sauce. 

After already drizzling chocolate on mine, I got the idea to actually write on the pancakes, so I left a little note for my mom.

In my first class of the day, I analyzed Shakespeare, the romance master––although the only possible romance in the Hamlet scene we studied today was between Hamlet and his mother Gertrude, which was uncomfortable. 

School was filled with lots of treats today: cookies and Hershey kisses and the quintessential candy hearts. Student Government passed out carnations at the end of the day as a school fundraiser. 

My math test...not so romantic. But I got it done, which means I am done with math unti the Monday we come back from February vacation. 

After school, I met with my English teacher from last semester to discuss my writing camp submission. After writing itself, my next love is talking about it. I spent time at play rehearsal, went to the home basketball game for my school, where the girls won with a 3-pointer within the last five seconds of the game. I was covering the game for my school newspaper, so at the end of the game I made sure to snag a quote from the boy's assistant basketball coach, who is about 25 and very good-looking––and of course I had to shake his hand. It's just business, right? 

Then, as I left, this good-looking senior said "bye" to me and brushed my waist with his hand. 

I ended the day with two of my favorite loves: peanut butter and brownies.

All in all, a solid Valentine's Day.

What filled your heart with love today?

Monday, February 11, 2013

The Star

I have a friend who dreams of being on Broadway. Whenever she talks about the future, she never says "If I become famous..." It's always "One day when I'm famous..." She visualizes it; she sees it. She just hasn't gotten there yet.

"Some people may think I'm conceded," she says," and that's okay. They see I have my headshot on my wall and think I'm full of myself, and that's okay too. This is what I need to do if I want to make it. I need to be confident in myself."

When I was three, the fortune teller looked at me.
She took my palm in her hand and she saw a star, and she said to my mom
"She'll be a star."
I will be the star.
Whether that star be shining on stage or in the classroom or underneath some big giving tree someday
with a notebook,
I will be the star.
I will sprinkle my stardust and people will remember my name, they will remember
the difference I made.
God only knows what octave I will reach, what journals I'll publish, what
credits I will receive but God I do believe,
God you can rest assured,
I will be the star.

Go be the star you were born to be.