Aloha.

I saw Selene, my former therapist. The plan was to update her on what has happened in my life since I last saw her, over a year ago. Then I would fill her in on the few, but significant struggles I am now encountering.

It took almost the full hour of the session to update her on my life. Even then, I skipped things and forgot things. I made a list of everything I wanted to tell her; even with the list I managed to omit things. By the time I expanded on my problems, we only had ten minutes left.

She wanted me to see her again. She made an appointment for me on the seventh of January. I wasn't sure if I wanted to go back. Now I am sure I don't. The more I think about it, the less I want to go. My primary reason for seeing her again was to tell her about my life. It was selfish to want to talk about my problems, especially because I wasn't looking for help but rather just to share.

I took the appointment, though. I was unsure of what I wanted, so I kept the option open. When my mom asked if I would see Selene again, I said no. Even if I did go, I wasn't going to tell my parents. I am sure I don't want to go, and I don't know how to communicate this to Selene. If I just don't go, it will be a waste of her time and she will call my house. If I call and have to leave a message, she will call back. If I call, I will have to speak to her. I don't want to. Maybe I have her email address. She wrote my appointment date and time on the back of a business card. I will check.

There are loose ends. I will have to rewrite her birthday and Christmas card. Then I will have to mail that to her. I just don't want to see her again. When I stopped seeing her in my sophomore year, I made a promise to myself that I was going to handle life on my own.

It will soon be time for me to be a grownup girl. I spent hours applying to colleges yesterday. I may not go to college, but I have done it. Either way, I am leaving my home within the year of 2010. If I don't get into college, I might just stay in Europe.

After the German exchange, I'm going to Spain. I hope Katja will be able to come, but her mom said she could only stay an extra week. We will see how negotiations progress throughout the year, though. I have relatives in England, and a good friend of my mom's lives in Spain. My mom was the one to suggest I go to Spain, and then she recalled our relatives in England. If we're traveling to England and Spain, might as well stop in France and maybe Italy.

All I have are ideas. One idea I have is that if I'm a grownup girl, then I need to know how to cope on my own. This isn't to say I can't rely on friends. I can, and I do. But, there is a difference between having friends to talk to and hiring someone to talk to.

I am not seeing Selene again. I will always be grateful for how she helped me, but never again can I use her as a stepping-stone in recovery or just progressing as a person. If I ever see her again, it will be in December 2010.

Music and Writing

"I signed up for Creative Writing, but due to budget cuts the Journalism and Creative Writing classes were combined. Our teacher didn’t even look to see which subject we originally chose, and instead introduced the class to both Creative Writing and Journalism.

I soon realized pursuing Journalism meant I could be a writer while making a difference in the community. Class aside, the prospect of a career in the field of Journalism intrigued me. When it came time to declare which subject we wanted to participate in the class, I chose Journalism.

After just a few months, I have already been involved in my first scandal. I wrote a perspective piece about my negative experience in this season’s school marching band. I am exiled from the “Band Geek” clique. Rather than finding this disheartening, I am inspired. I influenced friends to scorn me, maybe I can convince strangers to better society."

In the common application, I rewrote the portion about my most meaningful extra-curricular. In my first draft, I wrote about Marching Band. Now I've switched to Journalism. A year ago, I found my only home to be with the band. Now, it hurts to watch a video of all the seniors together at championships. I'm going to write about the chairs. The Chairs put everything into perfect perspective for me; everything that was falling apart fell together for just a moment of clarity.

It was the first evening of Championships. At Championships, the seniors have a special dinner and sit together. This year, it was so cold and windy the seniors had the dinner inside the equipment truck. The tables and chairs were hauled inside this big moving truck, and it was decorated with twinkle lights and candles.

Toward the end of dinner, we started playing music from an iPod. I don't remember how or who started it, but the music blasted and there was an overpowering stench of happiness. People stood up on the chairs at the tables. My band member were dancing and shouting along the lyrics to the songs that were being played. Everyone was laughing and smiling and dancing.

Never had I ever felt so dislocated from my band members. Even at the beginning of my first season, when I was strangled by social anxiety, I felt more in place. At least, at that point in time, I did not consider myself close friends with any of the people in the band. No, by the end of my first season, I felt like I had a family.

While sitting in the truck, watching my band members dancing from sheer joy, I felt alien. While watching people I once considered my family dance and smile at each other, I realized I could never be like them.

I am not the type of person who can stand up and start dancing on chairs; I don't know if I ever will be.

A proper post.

Well, hello.

I am a fan of Cecilia, but I often call her Katja. We are fans of the word "proper".

I made this account a year ago-maybe years ago- with the original intent to follow my favorite YouTube stars who blogged through this site. I never actually did follow their blogs, and now I am no longer their fans. Funny how things work out, eh?

My name is Elizabeth, but my name in German class is Astrid. I chose it because it made me think of stars. In actuality, it means "strange and unusual beauty". At least, that's what it means according to an online baby-naming website. I've never actually asked my German teacher if my name has meaning.

This summer, Katja and I are going to Germany. In spring, Katja and I are having German exchange students staying with us.

Good bye.