Maybe I'm a little too obsessive.

Warning: DON'T READ THIS. I am kind of an obsessive freak who deserves to be locked up for life.

It's a good thing my computer randomly decided to shut down a few minutes ago, because the first version of this post had me pinned as a spoiled little brat who always cries when she can't get what she wants.

Now, I promise you, I don't tend to hold onto things this much. Sure, I get sentimental and ooey-gooey and such when it comes to many things, but never... this. And I realize my evil and bratty ways as I type this up, but for some reason, these ways just will not end. They will not end!! And I promise, I'm not only driving everybody around me nuts. I'm driving myself crazy, as well. The last thing I need to be doing is obsessing this badly, after all. I need to get back to the life I used to have!

Don't pretend you don't know what I'm talking about by now. Hellooo, Spring Awakening. (I went three entries — not quite five, but close enough. Trust me, a lot has come up about it!)

The strike recently ended, the shows are starting up again, and so of course I'm still off-handedly bugging my parents about letting me go to NYC to see it next month. I'm starting to let it get to me that of course they'll keep saying no, we really don't have that kind of money, but I figure, what can it hurt? Right? (Although I did severely piss off my mom the other day during lunch. Oops.)

Well, Telecharge sent me a lovely little e-mail this evening saying that because my show was cancelled due to the strike, I can now get Spring Awakening tickets for only $55 through March 2nd! Considering tickets are usually $111.50, THIS IS AN AMAZING DEAL. Oh man. Oh man oh man oh man.

Of course, my parents still say no. I mean, the tickets are the least expensive, but there's still a matter of plane tickets, hotel, etc. Because of course the whole family has to come. (Why can't it just be me and one other person! I mean, that's not bad! Saskia and I did very well on our own!)

I won't go saying that my life sucks. It doesn't! I'm a very fortunate person, really, and I've had so many amazing opportunities to see amazing shows, go to amazing places, meet amazing people, get published in this amazing book. For some reason, in this instance, I just don't have how to shut the hell up. (Hey, I think I meet with my therapist next week. I can rant to her about this, I guess? But she'll most likely tell me what I don't want to hear: "You're not going to see it, so deal!" But I haaaave to see it!) (See? This is what goes on in my head for most of the day. WHAT. IS. WRONG. WITH. ME.)

I still hold strong that once I see it, I will shut up about it. Sure, I might still bring it up every once in a while. But I won't be so crazyinsanepsycho over not getting to see it. Because I will have seen it! Hmph.

Somebody please help me. Holy crap.

The necklace from the NYC party is still missing. Most likely forever. This depresses me muchly. Le sigh.

Today we had to turn in final drafts of our college essays. My teacher had actually given me a 100% on my last draft, so he gave it back to me today so that I could, er, turn it back in. With all the others, I mean. But when I flipped to see the grade, I noticed that he had written, "one of the best ever," beside the grade. My heart literally leapt at this.

I've had this inkling this year that my writing has actually improved a lot. In past years, when it came to writing for class, it never came quite as easily, I never found much enjoyment in many of the assignments, and overall I never felt very satisfied with my work. But this year, I've loved what I've written for most of my assignments for classes. And to have my teacher tell me that he loved my essay is astounding to me!

The best thing about this is that, well, every writer, when growing up, wants to know that they're actually improving, that they aren't at a stand-still. And being able to feel this writer bubbling down inside me — it feels good. (And not "food," which is what I first typed. Wow, Amy. Wow.)

Maybe I should e-mail my essay to my sophomore english teacher. He's the english teacher I had after I saw my first Harry and the Potters show. And I introduced him to wizard rock. And he's basically one of the best teachers I've ever had. If not the best. Man oh man. I wish he was still at my school. He left this past year, and we all miss him terribly. Too cool for our school, apparently. Sheesh!) (Speaking of, I need to e-mail him about those recs I asked him to do.)

Well. Since Ugly Betty is a rerun tonight, I can use that time wisely and study for chemistry and psychology! (...will I actually study?! We'll find out!)


No Comments