The beginning of the end

Well hi folks. Which is pretty much no one.
Today is my last first day of school ever. That is so weird to say. It's like I'm riding a train, and the train is pummeling toward a giant abyss, and for a while it had been going moderately slowly, and then this morning, the conductor kicked it into overdrive and I am just watching the end of the tracks approach and disappear over the edge of a cliff. It's so scary to think that there are only 15 weeks standing between me and the mystery that is my future. I have no idea what's coming next, and that scares me. Thank God for T.J. Maxx--at least I have that guarantee, until I walk away from them. (Knock on wood--with my luck, they will fire me now because I said that).

Anyway, I had two classes this morning, and then I have two others tomorrow afternoon. So far, my classes seem pretty cool.

I'm taking the second installment of Music History, and he's hilarious (and yes, he really does look like House's Dr. Wilson). But he asked for all the non-majors to stop and see him after class, and he let the four of us know that he doesn't assume that non-majors have the same time to devote to this course than majors do, so at the end of the semester, he'll ask us to write our names on a sheet of paper, and we will find our grades magically raised (Basically, he says he tends to give us a full letter grade higher). This is awesome, even though I did great in 263 last semester, because who knows how this will go.

American Literary Landmarks seems great too. The books are American classics, so I'll be able to dig into them with more interest than some of the other texts I've touched.

(Sidenote: There is a girl standing in front of me with a T-Swift RED backpack on--I wanna be best friends.)

Anyway, I'll have to update this tomorrow when I've been to my other classes: Myth and Symbol (with Professor Nez!) and Senior Sem (-gulp-)

EDIT:  So my Tuesday classes were just as interesting as my Monday ones. Myth and Symbol is gonna be awesome. I know next to nothing about Greek mythology, but I'm just stoked to take anther class with Nez.
And Senior Sem...well that class is awkward. It's full of English majors (obviously) but I don't really know any of them, or have any friends in the class. Which sucks--as usual. The workload is a little intense, but not too too bad.

oh man...I still can't believe that it's almost over. damn.

This is an amazing giveaway! Ahhhhh!

I came across this giveaway and thought I'd post, in case anyone is as nail polish obsessed as me.

Nail Freak is giving away the Illamasqua Christmas Duo that was SUPER hard to get on Sephora.com. It was always sold out when I looked, so this is a great giveaway. Go check it out!

Check out her swatches too. They are amazing <3 br="br">

I've never been very good at goodbyes.

We knew it was coming. His body was shutting down, and we knew it was only a matter of time until it gave out altogether. We prepared for it, trying to be positive but knowing that there was nothing left to do but pray that it would come quietly. He was suffering, alone in a hospital room miles and miles from where we were. The hardest part was knowing that it was coming, but not knowing when.

I thought it would be easier, having time to prepare. The last time I lost someone it was a shock, a surprise, a 911 call and a chaotic rush to try and reverse the inevitable. But this...this was slow. It was waiting and wondering, and your heart skipping a beat every time the phone rang, not knowing if that would be the call.

This morning, it finally was. And I learned that no, having time to prepare doesn't make it any easier. And it still doesn't mean you get to say goodbye. Not that I've ever been good at goodbyes. I usually go for "see you later," or "talk to you soon." But I don't get to say that this time. Even if Heaven is real, it's not "see you later." It's "see you in a lifetime." And with all the faith I've been raised to have, that still isn't a guarantee.

All I know right now is that I'll never get another chance to say things I've always meant to say, to ask him if I made him proud. I won't get the chance to study the lines in his face, or the faded ink of his Marine Corp tattoo, or hear stories from his childhood. I won't get to kiss his cheek or smell his aftershave and cigarette smoke combo, or tease him about driving his Cadillac--which he'd never let me do. And I'll never hear him say "I love you" again. And it hurts.

I've been so selfish, telling God that I'm not ready and asking for a little more time. Yesterday, I finally said that it wasn't fair to make him wait just because I wasn't ready to let go. And I know it was the right thing, and I know that this was best for him because it was too painful for him to suffer, but I'm so torn up. And all I want is just one more chance that I can't have because it's too late and I miss him already.

Castle Premiere = Castle Mani

Today is the first Castle Monday of Season 5. This calls for more than just my Castle Monday shirt.

This calls for a Castle Monday manicure!

This is one coat of Dandy Nails “Mighty Fine Print” over one coat of Wet ‘N Wild “Black Creme,” and a ring finger accent newsprint nail over Zoya “Dove.”

I loveloveLOVE "Mighty Fine Print." It's hard to see in this crappy cell phone picture, but it's a sheer-ish black base with tons of red and white micro glitters in it. I think it's my favorite of her indies that I have gotten so far.

And this is the best newsprint nail result I've gotten yet. I used vodka instead of rubbing alcohol, because I didn't have any...it came out so clear. I'm pretty happy with this.

I am SO excited for the premiere tonight. 10pm on ABC. Everyone tune in. It’s gonna be epic.

That awkward moment when you're writing a response paper for a Shakespeare class, and you don't mention the play at all...

...but instead you figure out who you are.

I’ve been thinking a lot about that conversation we had about identity. It’s actually something I’ve thought a lot about before now, too. My best friends are twins. We went to high school together, but it wasn’t until we dormed together at JCC that the three of us became inseparable. I remember sitting and just watching them interact with each other, and wondering what it would be like to have a twin. I even asked them what it was like once, and they told me that it was the best thing in the world to have a built in best friend. When I asked them if it was weird to know there was someone in the world just like them, they looked at me and said “Weird, B? It would be weird to not have each other.” I suppose that for children born without a twin, it is weird to imagine having one just like it is weird for my best friends to imagine living without a twin.

I suppose you’ve noticed I just referred to myself as B. No, it was not a typo. B is my nickname, bestowed upon me in a weird, drawn-out story sort of way. I’ve been Allyson, sometimes Ally or Ally-Rae, and for awhile after an unfortunate 4^th grade spelling accident, Alien (Allyon), but when it comes to my best friends, affectionately known as Cup and Lee, I am B. I think nicknames are an interesting facet of identity, and for me at least, tend to reflect the persona I’m putting on. I’m Allyson when I am in class and most days at work, Ally-Rae with old friends from Chorale, Ally with my family and on days at work when the other Alisons are working, Allyson Rae when I’m writing, and Allyson Rae(!!) when my mother is really angry with me. The name I am called immediately triggers the part I play, whether it is best friend; student; carefree choir member; motivated T.J. Maxx employee; writer; or guilty, trouble-making daughter. All these personas are “me,” but at the same time, none of them really are. Why? Simply because I can’t let every aspect of every persona fuse together into one. I can’t be my best friend’s best friend when I’m wearing my “student” mask, and I can’t be studious while I’m cleaning up after rude customers at work. I can’t cater to my mother’s hopes and dreams for me while I’m out with my friends, and all the time I spend wearing all those different personas leaves very little time to actually be a writer. Actually…the more I think about it now, the more I think that the time I spend being a writer is the closest I can get to being “the real me.” Because when I am writing, nothing is off limits. I can write about the crazy things my best friends say, and the love/hate/love relationship I have with my family, and the crazy customers I deal with at work. I can let out all the elements of those many personalities through words, and I don’t ever have to hide a part of my personality that I don’t want to, the way that I do with other personas. That isn’t to say that writing allows me to be entirely the real me; there are still things I do not reveal in my writing, and that makes my “writer” persona still a persona. But even so, writing is the closest I have come to synthesizing all the elements of every persona into one.

How have I not realized this until right now? I always defined myself as musician first, writer second, but even as a musician I was still playing a role. I was still putting on a costume and conforming to fit into the identity that made me a choir member, or a band member, or a soloist. On stage, I wasn’t allowed to be the daughter or the sister, the best friend or the sales associate. I had to be “musician.” But in writing? In writing I can choose to explore one, or two or all of those personas and synthesize then into something more. And it’s all through words. That is really something.

I wonder if he'll be mad that I didn't mention The Comedy of Errors at all...probably. I'll figure out how to work that in. Maybe.

Avoiding Reading about Beethoven...

This is what I do when homework is not in my vocabulary.

I blog.

I'm going to the English department picnic this afternoon. I wasn't gonna go, but I really wanted to. I just didn't have a ride and I didn't have anyone to ask. I finally caved and asked my mom if I could go, because--let's face it--I have no friends. The few I made last year have graduated, and the people left that I know are people I don't particularly like. So I'm desperately trying to make friends before I graduate.

A girl in my Pop Culture class sent out an e-mail asking someone to ride with her to the field trip Friday. I was going to ride in a school van, but I felt kind of bad for her and I know the area pretty well, so I told her I'd go. That's something I never do. Hell, riding in a van is something I'd never do. I'd usually just ask my mom to take me and pick me up, so I wouldn't be forced into an uncomfortable situation. But life is made up of uncomfortable situations.

It's hit me recently that this is it: my last year of school. Grad school is not in my near future, and in the four+ years I've spent in undergrad--two at JCC and a little over two at Fred--I can count the number of new friends I've made on one hand...maybe two. When I say new, I mean new...people I had never met before graduating high school.

I've never been very good at making friends my own age. I just tend to relate better to professors, teachers...other adults. I don't know why. Maybe it's because I entrust my words to them. I hand them my thought and ideas in typed pages, and freely let them judge me without wondering what the consequences might be. But when it comes to peers in class...all I ever do is consider the consequences. I rarely speak up in class, and when I do...I'm automatically being judged. Or at least, I feel like I am.And it's funny because in reality, it is the professor that does the judging...in the form of a grade. I don't know. I have plenty of acquaintances, sure. People at work, people in class, but...no one I hang out with. No one I can ask for a ride to the picnic.

So I'm trying. I'm trying to be more social. I'm trying to get to know people. That girl who struck up a conversation with me in class, that actually knew what Castle was about, even if she hadn't seen it--I added her on Facebook. Today in Steinberg's class, I actually volunteered an idea, even though it was terrifying to do so. I took a workshop style writing class with a professor I already trust, so that maybe I can learn to trust myself and my ideas with more than just the person wielding the red pen. I'm just desperately hoping that maybe, before it's too late, college will teach me about more than books; maybe, I'll finally learn how to be more than who I am.

Wish me luck.

xoxo
Allyson Rae

I get grumpy when it is hot out.

It's hot. HOT. I'm sticking to everything and everything is sticking to me, and I don't like it. I came upstairs to sit near the English offices because there's like...a breeze right here, and its so comfy...well more comfy than downstairs, sticking to the chairs and tables and myself.

I'm waiting for Lee to text me, because we were supposed to hang out today. I told her days ago that I was free at noon and I'd be on campus, but for some reason, she feels like she needs to ask me the same thing every day...and then be surprised when I say I'm on campus and not at home. How do you want me to get there, apparition? I love her, but sometimes it is so frustrating because I feel like no one ever remembers what I say. Especially when she's the one that suggested picking me up from school in the first place...it means less of a drive for her.

I don't know. I'm just hot and frustrated because I'm hot and I've run out of things to work on because I left my music history book at home because its heavy and I don't particularly feel like walking to the library to use that copy because its HOT and I don't know why it is taking Lee so long to run whatever errands she had to run, and Christ, why couldn't she have just picked me up first and let me go with her, and for that matter, why is it whenever we do things, she always leaves Zachy with her mom or puts him down for a nap or something because I actually like the kid and wouldn't mind hanging out with him too, but its like she feels like I'll care, and I won't. Wow, that was a very long run on sentence. Remind me never to put a sentence like that in an English paper. So here I am, still waiting, and I'm kind of hoping to run into someone who makes me smile, but I don't think that will happen today but who knows and I sound a little like a stalker, but I swear I'm not. I'm also really hungry because all I had today was Peanut butter and jelly because it is the cheapest thing these damn cafes sell, and I've got like 5 dollars to my name. I was hoping I'd be able to pick up my paycheck and put it in my account, but that won't happen today because they closed at 2. How frustrating. -_-

And this guy keeps walking by with the squeakiest shoes and I'm laughing so hard because you can hear him coming long before you see him. hehe.

I suppose I could write some more for my life history through food assignment, but I can't decide what other food to write about...my food life has been so boring. I only had two really distinct stories, but I still haven't met the page requirement yet.

Currently, I'm listening to a conversation between some students and my least favorite professor. I really liked her when I had her, but she never really seemed to like me, and I don't know...she's just been kind of rude when I see her, and it makes me just...not like her. I wish my life were easier.

I'm still waiting on that text.

Anyway, this week has been pretty awesome, and I'm actually enjoying my classes...even the ones I wasn't looking forward to. As long as a professor can make me laugh and keep me engaged, there is still hope for me.

I'm kind of considering going back downstairs because this chair is starting to get uncomfortable, but its still so hottt, and at least up here, there is still a breeze.

TGIF.
Allyson Rae