Here.

I felt my heart leap up right out of my chest when I saw home. It was that very moment when I realized that this little town will now be mine, and that no trace of familiarity will comfort my new life from what Denton will hold true for my future.









I am on my own.









Like most people, I compared this new home from the old. And frankly, they're both quite similar. It's the whole small town vibe that gets me. This town would give me great, night joyrides and beautiful sunrises from atop of the steep hills. I could go bike riding across campus, take a spring break trip canoeing with my collegues, and make snow angels after caroling in a cool, winter night. I saw all of this from that first glance, and I could tell that my heart recieved a very warm, sweet first impression.







Long story short, I walked around the campus by myself as my family chilled in the visitor parking lot. I wanted to 'tour' around from within my perspective, and find out "where" is "where" from "here" and "there". Fortunately (hopefully that sounded sarcastic), the great, big summer heat cheered me on as I walked step by step to each building. Figures. Noneoftheless, I saw names like Human Development Building, Dance-Gymnastics Center, Old Main Building, Pioneer Hall, the Blagg-Huey Library; I took good mental pictures at them, and wondered when I would enter inside them. And of course, my eyes soared as I finally reached the Music Building. It was right next door to the Fine Arts building, both connected by a beautiful courtyard with a prideful moneument of a lady (probably because it's, hello! A women's university), and I made those baby steps into that wooden door surrounded by the crisp, white carved cement walls and entered inside the Music Building without thinking twice. No one is gonna stop me from going in.







And no one did. The building had greyish, square tiles, and over to the left I heard a lady (from the sound of her heels clacking) scanning something from a copy machine. Yet, my eyes darted right into the Margo Jones Performing Hall and I invited myself right in. The walkway reminded me of how you walk inside a movie cinema; very dark, with pathways from opposite directions. There was something absolutely wonderful in the brightly lit, empty auditorium that made me just want to burst out crying. I wanna perform here. SO bad. The ceiling was massively high, and the stage was adorned with elegant, brass organ pipes from each side. It was actually quite smaller than my highshool's, maybe seated about 150 seats? But it was all very welcoming, and had 3-tier levels in the seating arrangement that made it clear that there was no such thing as getting a "bad seat". Everything looked really lovely.









And then, I ran to the stage. I checked the side wings if anyone was around, but then reassured myself that I was truly alone. This whole stage was mine for the moment. I walked in front, center. I looked out the audience, and I realized that this very place is where I want to be. But then, I resisted leaping outrageously from laughter right into a song, from dancing like a leprechaun, and bending down in one knee and reciting an old dialogue from Shakespeare. It didn't feel right. I wanted people to watch me, and my crazy foolish performing driven-self. And I promised myself, one day, I would be here again.









Nostalgia kicked right in when I walked off, because it occured to me that my highschool glory days were really over. And, although it would never be the same, I wanted this new life to have that part of the old. It hurt, but I would be lying to say that it didn't motivate me to do it all over again. "You can take the stage away from this girl, but you can't away this girl from the stage...." Hmm...maybe I should consider taking theater as a minor?









I saw a sign that listed all the room numbers when I exited out the performance hall. "Music therapy.....215." And sure enough, I was on another mini adventure to check out the room in which I'll be in for the next 4 years.









I took the stairs, and heard a faint guitar strumming as I entered the second floor. The guitar played a soft, elegant melody; almost lullaby-ish. The tune lead to the very left end of the hallway, which was the direction of where room 215 is. Sure enough, there was a classroom door cracked open, and I knew a lecture was going on...I just didn't expect it to be exactly in the Music Therapy room. I slowly walked towards the room, and alomst instantly, the students glanced their eyes towards me as I peeked in. Embarassed, I stepped out and looked at the bullitens hanging around the hallway instead. "Music therapy jobs being offered", "New Internships Available" were what I read through. And GAH, I couldn't resist! I peeped inside the classroom again. This time, I saw my future professor standing smack dab in the front. The same professor I emailed back and forth about my audition date. She had warm, brownish hair with fair, glowy skin that would even make a tan person wish to be pale. She was happy. She loved to teach. And I wanted to be part of that class and learn, too. And that was all I needed to see.









I finally left the Music Building and took the long way back to the visitor parking lot. I even saw more little discoveries, like a cute greenhouse nearby the Science Building, some tennis courts, soccer field, softball field, and-GAHHH! IS THAT AN OUTDOOR SWIMMING POOL?! Score! And some precious water fountains that just really made my college stunning.









I returned back, knowing that the next time I get to see everything again would be my freshman orientation....two more weeks.




The drive leaving the college campus felt bittersweet, almost like I'm being separated from a new friend. And I glanced back one more time before my brother turned the corner, and could still see the big, welcoming sign. And, childishly, I waved goodbye at the place and felt that if this college was human, it would've waved back, too.









Funny, I always referred to Denton as a town over "there". But for once, I can now say I can't wait for the day when "there" becomes "here". It made the future feel absolutely, completely, and entirely perfect.

Today from its yesterdays.

Ressa should feel lucky. School got cancelled today and she got to sleep in until noon. All the tests must now be postponed until Monday, which means three days of studying than she normally would. Thursday and Friday performances got rescheduled until Saturday and Sunday, which means two extra days of still getting three more chances to perform on stage.

It seems like God is doing me a favor of some sort, like he's trying to let me take a break by giving me a snowy storm that never came. While people say how much the weather "sucks" as they openly express their disappointment on facebook statuses, I, on the other hand, felt the urge to post a new blog post, feeling pretty gracious of the man upstairs making time pause at the present.

When was the last time I updated this anyway? I feel pretty bad for neglecting this during Thanksgiving, Christmas, New Years, my birthday, etc., but looking back at how I feel from now and then, it hasn't really changed.

I felt thankful at Thanksgiving, blessed at Chirstmas, hopeful in New Years, and those three feelings combined in love as I turned 18.

As I sit here typing about my past and present, there's never a day that I long for my future....which leads to why I'm glad school got cancelled today in the first place. One, I'm still waiting around for college to creep inside my head. The more time passes by, the more I feel out of place. No college accepted me yet. No college rejected me yet. But then again, no college should notify me about anything yet.....until March that is. After I applied to my 'dream' schools, I realized that those schools weren't as dreamy as I thought they were. Why on earth did I want to go to school in Massachusettes in the first place?! The most exciting thing to go is Walmart if I ever attend there. And pshhhh.....Ohio? Sweetie, that deadline already passed. You knew in your heart that's not where you belong anyway. But no, I don't want to stay. I can't stay. Being in Texas..........is not where I belong either. That's certain, too.

Even staying at home for more than 4 hours in a consious state has been dreadful. I've grown out of the cycle of my parents deciding thing for me, to myself haiting them for making decisions for me, into the moment if my life where they dno't want to decide things for me anymore.....but still feel significant enough to say how much they hate the choices I make instead.

You would think that my parents would've trusted themselves to think they've raised me right, but what bothers me more is that I can never picture them loving me stronger through my mistakes.

And so although I don't want to be accepted to some of the colleges I wanted in the first place, receiving a rejection letter from them would equally crush me.

So bundling up underneath the covers of my bedsheets doesn't bother me as I'm facing the world with a question mark day by day. And no matter how much I make myself become the girl I thought I was, I'm drifting away from myself faster and faster.

Who am I to say I'm great? Or awesome? Or brilliantly special of any sort? How can I place myself in categories of love and hate? Needs and wants? Good or bad? Because people tell me something different everyday.

And I'm tired of it all. I'm sick of trying to 'find' myself and all that stuff. That's so old. Or that whole girlie excuse of "I always smile when really.....I'm sad!!!!! Now love me!!! *teardrop*" Uh, LAME.
(I smile because I am happy, Mr. Whoever invented 6 Billion Secrets.)

I'm just growing up....and it's hard. Period.

And I realize that I'm too smart to be stubborn about it. Or too young to knockout my self-worth.

I deserve to make me feel happier about myself.


I'm daring myself to make these words into action.