Wednesday, December 8, 2010

One day i'll have the courage to stand and fight.

I'm obsessed with Pirates of the Caribbean. Ask Grace. It's our tradition to watch at least one of them when we are together. It's also our tradition to try and hold our breath through the whole underwater scene in At Worlds End, but that's rather irrelevant.

What's relevant is Captain Jack Sparrow, and one of his most famous lines-

"We must fight... to run away!" -Captain Jack Sparrow (At Worlds End)

I adore that, because it starts out really dramatic and has a lot of courage and than.... BAM! Scared Jack  Sparrow. Love it.
But it has a really good point. Are you braver when you fight, or when you run away? Most say when you fight. I just laugh and say I'd be the person that's running away, screaming at the top of their lungs.

"If you define cowardice as running away at the first sign of danger, screaming and tripping and begging for mercy, than yes, mister brave man, i guess i am a coward."- Jack Handey

Yup, that's me!

But what i think the best description of courage is being willing to go into a dangerous situation, knowing the consequences, the possibilities, everything. Being willing to put your life on the line simply for your beliefs, for your family's safety, for your rights.

It may be misplaced courage, but it's courage none the less. Don't get me wrong, I'm not condoning war. Far from it. I'm scared to death of it. I just think the men and women that fight are pretty brave.

Oh my gosh, I'm going mad about this. Seriously, descending into utter madness. And it's only December? What happens come April? Why is it, everything that upsets my life happens in April? Urgh....

But there is one bit of courage i have; that I'm proud of. That i can stand on a floor in front of hundreds of people, and not be scared. I'm terrified, yeah, but I'm not scared. I'm not scared of it. I adore it, love it more than anything i ever have in my life. (Castle might be a close second.) I'm just terrified of my mistakes. Yet, i have to courage to trust myself and just go.

So what's courage? For me- Running away screaming. For others- Standing and fighting.
One day I'll stand and fight.

<3 Taylor Elaine

Monday, December 6, 2010

Redneck Central

I love my family.
Not something ya hear from your normal 15 year old girl, is it?
Nope, it's true.
I love my family!

So it was my daddy's birthday yesterday. Happy birthday daddy(: so Saturday night my family threw a small party. (and, if we're talking about my family, i use 'small' as loosely as possible). Anyways, i would like to introduce Jim. Jimmy James. James Micheal. All the names we call him. He's really amazing and funny. A Slight narcissistic. And very sarcastic. Think Robert Downey Jr. in Iron Man. Yup, that's Jim. And I'm his favorite!(: he's even got a scholarship set up for me. The 'Norm-Ship', after his dog that's been dying for about five years now.

"Jim, how's Norms?"
"He's dead."
"What?!"
"No, not yet. But he will be by the time i get home!"

Same thing. Every time. But back to the party!

I was babysitting Cloe. Aka the cutest kid in the world. She's two years old and in the twenty questions phase. No. Why? No. What? No. Why? She's also a whirlwind. Everything must be taken out, thoroughly examined, and than left on the floor. Don't take your eyes off of her.

So we're sitting around the table. Cloe's on my lap, happily drinking her juice, drowsily. My dad is setting across from me, holding his beer bottle. Jim's sitting a few yards away, at the island, holding John's air soft pistol. Carl elbows him.

"Bet you can't shoot Shannon's beer bottle." He goads him. Jim carefully levels the gun and shoots.
TING!
My dad, ever the man to express his feelings, stares at the bottle in amazement, than shrugs and takes a sip. My mom, on the other hand, is a very quiet mild mannered lady.

"JIM?!!? DID YOU JUST SHOOT THE GUN?!?!?"
"Yup. And i hit it!"
*high fives all around*
"What is this, redneck central?!"

Oh, for the love of high school, i love my family- Redneck Central.

<3 Taylor Elaine

P.S. NEW CASTLE TONIGHT!!!! NO MORE WITHDRAWALS!!!!!! EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!

Friday, December 3, 2010

here we go!

That's my first thought as my alarm goes off at 415. I swing my legs out of my warm bed with serious reluctance. I shuffle to the bathroom, in a half awake state. After that, it's a blur. Somehow, i find myself standing upstairs in the kitchen, in my warm ups and coat, my 95 pound dance bag slung over my shoulder, and my uniform gripped tightly in one hand.

The ride to the high school is in semi darkness. My mother struggles to stay awake and mutters that she'll be glad when i can drive myself. As we pull up next to the bus, she kisses my cheek wearily and tells me good luck. I nod and trudge off, onto the bus. i set my bag down, situate my uniform in the window, than curl up next to Devon and put my ipod in, only popping my head above the seat to show Allison that i'm here.And to secretly hand off my secret buddy gift, and get mine in return.

The bus pulls out of the parking lot, and my eyes drift shut.

Sunlight is beginning to stream through the windows when i open my eyes. Devon informs me that we're almost here and i begin to wake up those around me; abby, morgan, stacia, emily, ect. We all pull on our coats and heave our bags onto our shoulders. Caboodle's are handed over, and we all get off, blinking in the bright sunlight. We walk into an unfamiliar school that's about to become our home for the next 12 hours. It's an ungodly hour, and yet the other dancers are bright and cheery as they show us to our room, and we all wearily begin our hair and make up, trying to wake up.

I wrap Devon's hair and she does mine. Than we begin the careful and painstaking process of doing make up. All too soon Allison is shouting that it's mark time. Everyone hastily dabs one last bit of lipstick on, than straightens their skirts and dash off for the gym. Mark time is a flurry of movement and yells, frantically marking the dance and trying to right formations. After that, we go back to our hallways and start to warm up. It's hours long, the process of warming and stretching muscles. You get some down time, watch the other teams on a television set up for that purpose. Than you feel the butterflies when you unzip your garment bag, and carefully pull your uniform over your head.

We all head down into the hallways behind the gym, everyone stretching and trying to conceal their nerves. Some girls joke, some talk loudly, some talk none at all. All too soon, you're hooking up and than you hear it.

Albert Lea, on deck!

You panic, realizing that you no longer remember the big kick line. You don't remember where the point points are or where you go during the HP.

And performing for you now, Albert Lea!
The roars. The cheers. The 'oh-my-gosh, i need to pee!' feeling that nearly kills you. Yet you smile past your fear and march out onto that floor proudly.

Here we go.

That's the first thought through my brain as i crouch down next to Abby and Kate. Than the twinkling music starts and we slowly rise, as one. We take a step closer to each other as i swung my arms around their shoulders and they grab my legs, holding my in my middle split as we move right, than left.

Trust. I trust them to support me. They are the only thing between me and a disqualification. They swung my legs shut and let me go. Than we're kicking and your brain goes into autopilot, your body doing the moves you drilled into it over hours of hard work. And you don't smile, not yet, even though you feel so powerful and strong and beautiful and you're running on a high and nothing can bring you down.

When you do start smiling, it's big. It's over the top. It's a amazingly happy, beautiful, 'LOOK AT ME, I'M DOING THE IMPOSSIBLE!' smile.

You're out of breath, yet you kick on. You can't hear anything put the bass of the music. You don't see the crowd; you don't hear them either. You only hear the pants of you and your fellow dancers next to you.

I can't feel my legs. Ina's on my side, screaming my name, wildly, that i can do this. I scream back; the words don't make sense, yet they're a comfort because you know you're not alone, all the other 19 girls feel the same way.

Yet your smile doesn't move.

I clasp my hands above my head, and move to my last formation. Next to Pastacia. We hold our palms tightly together and lay down, breathing like we just ran a marathon.

I hear Kate count, and we stand, the effort almost killing me. Still smiling, we walk off of the floor, beaming.

My last thought is how much i miss it, how much i love the high that performing brings.

I'm addicted.

Dancing is my drug.

<3 Taylor Elaine