A Digital Pandora's Box, Where Hope is a Blog Comment

Cover Girl could make millions of dollars on a memory concealer. Or maybe Apple could copyright a memory USB. Just stick it in, put some memories in it and poof! You don't remember them until you want to. I say this, because I have (again) neglected this blog. And when I checked back and re-read my entries, lets just say my own little Pandora's box of pain got flung open again.

However, I actually have a follower. Which is a pleasant surprise. And, to reply to your comment Ms. Claire Valene Bagley, I suppose this is supposed to be secret. In some sense of the word, anyway.
I'm a better typer then writer, so I guess this is my own little diary, just without a lock and key. But thank you, for...

Ever since I read the comments I've been at a bit of a loss as to what to say in response. Some replies I imagined were too dramatic, some didn't say enough, and some sounded like they'd been ripped out of a Hallmark movie script. Guess this shows just how socially challenged I can be, huh? But thank you for commenting, for the compliment and for showing me that some one out there cares enough to leave a comment.

But nevertheless, let me fill you in on the thrilling, gut-wrenching, perched-on-the-edge-of-my-seat story that is my life. (Did I mention that I reside in a sleepy little retirement town? So much for that action movie deal I was making.)

Recently I was christened "Youth Volunteer of the Year" at my YMCA, in a lovely bit of irony. My sister took the news surprisingly well, consider the fact that I'm "stealing her title". Ever since preparations for Blue Ridge Leadership School has began, I've begun to see it in an surprisingly better light. The whole waking up at 5:45 to get a shower thing is sounding a little annoying though. If I had my way, everyone would sleep in till 11.

On the note of Leader's Club, Fall Rally 2011 is fast approaching, and this years theme is (drum roll, please...) The Wizard of Oz. Well thats wonderful. I'm the perfect Cowardly Lion. And while it's true, I'm not exactly your text-book definition of coward, thats not to say I don't posses a good ol' serving of cowardice. Yup. I'm the girl who will dive off of a cliff into freezing water without pausing for a second thought, but confront me about the "true me" and "what I want to do with my life" and next thing ya know I'll be miles away, trailing a dust cloud like a cartoon character. So there you go.

174th Thing I'm Afraid Of: High School.

But no, it's not just limited to literal high school, as in the big, brick walled prison that many teens thing of it as. It's everything of or pertaining to high school. High schoolers, high school classes, high school life styles, so on and so forth. I'm not afraid of it like my parents are afraid of it. I'm not concerned about the possibility that I'll come back from my first day having gotten drunk, done drugs and then lost my virginity. (which seems to be a big trend for all you hip, 15 year olds out there) And no, I'm not afraid because I'm some mentally challenged little home-schooled dork. It's just a lot of things that make up my fear of high school, including the fact that with my fast-approaching birthday on the 23rd, I'll no longer be a tween, not really. I'll be a teen.

And personally, that scares the hell out of me.

Because, to let my inner, whiny child out, I don't want to grow up. I'm still waiting for that Peter-Pan jerk, regardless of the fact that he's about 5 years late. Why should I want to grow up, when being a naive, innocent child is just that much better? You are invincible as a child. Like a fool, you use oblivion as your shield, protecting you from all things bad in the world. The worst things that can happen is you get a skinned knee, or maybe your favorite toy breaks. And, being the greedy, cowardly little ball of hormones that I am, I wish for that innocence to return. Hell, I don't wish for it. I pine for it, I long for it, I drop onto my knees and beg for it. And yes, that sounds pathetic, I know. A lot of my thoughts these days strike me as pathetic.

I had a conversation with my dad last night, and we agreed that we humans will never be content with what we have. There will always be something better, brighter, newer and shinier.

It's what makes us both pitiful and beautiful at the same time.

(P.S. You got the quote right. As far as I'm concerned, I can kiss all the few remaining shreds of sanity I have goodbye on the 23rd. Up will become down and wrong will become right, to be overly poetic. Thank you, again, for following me. I'm sorry for wasting your time- but I appreciate it, nonetheless.)