On Goals and The Perfect Man

I WILL become an excellent dancer, even if for it I must sell my soul!!!! In lindy hop, in blues, in ballroom, I will be excellent. I WISH I had a dance partner so that I could practise all the time, and learn new moves, and have someone to work with for competitions!!

If I could make the perfect guy, I would give him a strong testimony. Then I would make him LDS. He would have any color eyes, any color hair. He would be at least a few inches taller than me. He would be a natural leader in dance, and our styles would match...but not too much, so that I could expand his style and he mine. He would have good musicality. He would be kind to everyone, and friendly, and he would make everyone feel special. He would read his scriptures daily, and would be willing to discuss the things that he read with me. He would absolutely love to dance--this would be one of his greatest passions in life. His other greatest passion would be the gospel, so that he could help me along. He would pray often. He would love the outdoors: hiking, biking, fishing, climbing, canoeing, rafting, exploring, and all manner of outdoor activities. He would have served a complete mission, and would tell me stories about it. He would be intelligent, so that I'd have someone to talk to who would understand my topics. He would be handsome, or cute, or attractive. He would be happy, positive, laid-back, optimistic, but also realistic. He would be able to express himself through dance. He would be open about things he didn't think were good for me, or things that he think I should improve upon for my own sake, and he would say these things with a loving intent. He would be better with showing and understanding feelings than I am, so that he'd be better with kids. He would think about others, and remember them, to make up where I lack. He would want to listen to me play piano. He would ask me what I was thinking. He would listen to me. He would dance with me. He would teach me dance, and would be patient about teaching me.

Unfortunately, the perfect guy doesn't exist. And even if he did, he wouldn't want me. I don't have much to offer in return, especially if he had dance skills. But hey, I can dream, can't I? In fact, I'm going to go do just that.

School's Starting Tomorrow...

How is it that we cannot stop hoping that the people who we like, who do not like us back, will like us, even when we know logically that there is no chance of reciprocation? Why do we still try? Is it emotions again? I know, logically, that there are people who will never like me back, yet I still have a hope that they will. I wish I could become a Vulcan.

Also, I looked at my current debt. Knowing the amount makes it less scary. Now, I just need to find a job that's close enough to my parent's house so that I can save on expenses, and pay off my loans as quickly as possible. Then I'll save for a car, and once I have a car, I'll save so that I can start life on my own, perhaps down in Provo, because there's dancing there.

Now that school's starting tomorrow, I'm anxious, in both a good way and a bad way. Good, because it's learning, and it'll give me something to do, and with the beginning of school comes the beginning of school dances; Bad, because it means that graduation is nearer, and because it means I have to call for an interview for an internship soon, and because I've been on break and so I have to get back into the habit again.

I'm also anxious that I won't be able to get into the O-Chem class that I want, and so I'll be less 3 credits that I'll need to fill with something, and I don't really have a backup plan in mind.

Also, for the past 2 nights I've had chase dreams, the type where the pursuers are only minutes behind, and where you escape by only a hair. Two nights ago, I dreamt that a psycho hick guy, age 24-26, was chasing me and my sister with a razorblade. He was relentless, and managed to cut me many times before I stabbed his eyes out. He always had a semi-blank, almost calm, leering expression on his face, and once I stabbed out his eyes, he put away his razors and left. It was only a simulation from this haunted house thing that my family went to, but it felt very real.

Back in Rexburg

I miss Utah. I miss my family. I miss the mountains. I miss hiking. I miss dancing in Provo.

And yet, graduation means that I lose all my friends, and all that is familiar. I lose the opportunity to take more classes, and I lose the hope of finding a husband. I lose the privilage of deciding what to do with my life. I have to decide now, and I don't know what to do. It changes weekly, even daily. I have no direction, and thus, no purpose. I don't know what I'm working towards. I just know that I now have debt hanging over me, and I have to find a job so that I can pay it all off. But I don't even know what jobs are available to me with my limited experience and unattractive resume. I don't even know how to look for a job. I don't know what to do. It's overwhelming. It's daunting. It's bothersome. If I didn't have debt, I would live at home for a while, going dancing every week, and decide what to do. I shouldn't have to know what I want to do with my life when I'm this young. And aren't I supposed to be married and having kids or some nonsense like that, anyway?

I'm stressed. Severely stressed. I need a good dance. Unfortunately, there are no good dances in Rexburg. Just the school dances, with the same crappy DJ who plays the same crappy music, and everyone does the same basic moves, and too few follow the music, and too few are good leads.

I wouldn't be so stressed if I knew I had a job after college. But I don't even know where to start. I hate it. And I can't just work minimum wage; that's not enough to sustain me. I feel like my degree will go to waste, and I'll end up working at an unsatisfactory job that pays much less than I need, forcing me to live at home and having no freedom.

I'm stressed, and sick of waiting for school to start. One and a half more days of doing nothing, and then it begins. But it's always a slow beginning.

Home...

I remember now why I hate Michigan: there's absolutely NOTHING TO DO HERE!!!!

I want to dance. I really want to dance. The nearest swing dance place is THREE HOURS AWAY in stinking Ann Arbor. Muskegon contains nothing but zillions of trees. I hate it.

We're driving out next Monday. Just one more week to endure.

It wouldn't be so bad if even one person in the family would take time to dance with me. But everyone's being stupid and they don't even want to learn the nightclub two-step. So I have bouts of helping to pack (whenever mom directs me) and doing nothing (whenever mom is not directing me. All packing must be done under her direction). All the books are packed, so I can't even read. Gay. And I absolutely refuse to watch TV, and I don't want to watch movies unless it's night time.

I had a dream last night about dancing. Except when I went to the dance, it turned out to be just a pool party and I didn't even get to dance. It was so disappointing. But at least there's a hope of a dance in my dreams, whereas in real life, there's nothing there until Thursday of next week. AAAHHH!!!

I don't know what I'm gonna do after college. It's been only two weeks since the busiest semester of my life, and I'm already recuperated. What the heck am I supposed to do when I graduate? Get a stinking job? I'll have no friends. I don't think there's dancing every night. I'm not married. I'll have no purpose in life. That's unhappy. College (i.e., learning) and dancing are my reasons to live. I'll still have dance, but that only gives me half of a reason to live. I want to be an eternal student. I must go on for a master's. But the question after that is: a master's in what? What the heck am I gonna do for the rest of my life? I hate deciding this. I shouldn't have to decide this at twenty years old. I'm frustrated.

Today

Things I hate:

-Sucky managers
-Assaults against my integrity
-Pansies
-Complainers
-A "My opinion is always right!" attitude
-Going against the convention for the sake of going against the convention...and then being vocal about it
-Wet pants
-Frozen butt
-Lack of bed
-White Glove and a biased manager to check the white glove
-Poor sports
-Making a mountain out of a molehill
-Packing
-Moving
-Girls who agree with a guy solely because they like the guy

On Obsession

I went to bed thinking about dancing, and woke up to dreaming about dancing. It was one of those slow wake-ups, where you gradually realize that the dream is not reality, and it fades further away, until you are at a functional and logical point of consciousness. As the dream faded out, reality faded in, and reality was that I was hungry, and that my toe hurt. My mind is wonderfully one-track when I wake up tired, so I went downstairs and took care of my toe first. It had gotten a cut yesterday, and I could feel that it was getting infected, so I washed it with soap, and then squeezed out the infected pus junk. I marvelled at how fast an infection can occur. Then I looked to see if anyone had hydrogen peroxide, or some sort of alcohol, but nobody did, so I used nailpolish remover instead. I poured it on, dried it, then used a q-tip and swabbed the cut. Then I went to the kitchen to find food. Hey look. Eggs. So now I'm making eggs.

Wasn't that fun?

I am sore amazed, because waking up hungry definitely means that I don't eat enough. I forget to eat whenever I go dancing. Thus, I truly have found my one passion: when you love something enough that you forget to eat, then it must be something that you love deeply. O! to have found my passion earlier! But at least I've found it. I'm going to try to get an internship up here for the winter so that I can have 2 more semesters up here, and I'll be able to take more dance classes and continue to go to ballroom and swing nights and workshops. By that time I hope to have gotten good enough to take off the training wheels.

So, yeah. I shall now be sleep-deprived because I was hungry because I forgot to eat because I was dancing. Time to prepare my sunday school lesson, I suppose.

The end.

On Swing Dancing

I LOVE SWING DANCING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Ballroom workshop was tonight. It was open dance. The whole time, I was just wanting to swing dance. Part way into the dance, someone who goes to swing, who is really good, who I've danced with before, appeared at the doorway as a swing song came on, and we danced superfast. I felt bad, because I'm nowhere near as good as him, but I wanted to swing, dang it. It was SO fun!!! I got to swing with him twice. Ah yeah!

I'm also gonna be a manager-or-something for ballroom workshop next semester. Look at me, all getting involved and stuff.


I'm supposed to be doing homework. I'm listening to jazz. I'm tired. Tomorrow's Friday. I want to dance. I love dancing. I hate homework.