"Well then why can't I bring my pistol?"

One of many incredible quotes from an absolutely incredible weekend. Top to bottom, from Thursday night on, I had the best time I've had at home since the middle of senior year, I'd say. And having had that, I'm really looking forward to the rest of summer now. Time to recap:

Thursday held Holy Cross's prom. I got there and got to see my babies. They all looked fantastic. I was slightly jealous, I must say. Dress-up is my favorite pasttime. So yeah, I considered punching someone and stealing their dress, but the only options were shades of pink. I wasn't in the mood. So I contented myself with playing mom and taking a million pictures. I'm gonna be such a stage mom/photo whore with my own children. Something to look forward. Afterwards there was a quick trip to Panera and Starbucks, where I was caught up on the drama and gossip within my little Bookclub. My, my - not as angelic as we may seem to many back home, hmm? I worry. There still is the issue of the applied earmuffs by some of the girls when I'm around, but we're getting better. There is surely hope. Off to Vaughn's where I watched Team America. Horribly wonderful...or wonderfully horrible. Catchy lyrics..."America -- fuck yeah"...yeah.

On to Friday. Had a small heart attack when I could not for the life of me remember what I did on Friday. I always assume the craziest things are wrong with me when I can't remember. Maybe I've been rufied, have early-onset Alzheimer's - courtesy of my late grandmother - which has taken its hold, etc. A brief panic attack afflicts me every time I can't recall what I had for breakfast, only to subside momentarily when I remember that, in fact, I didn't have breakfast, and pick up steam again as I wonder why that didn't just occur to me in the first place. My fear of degenerative diseases of the mind is beginning to weigh in fairly heavily. Secret meaning behind my addicition to Sudoku - keeps the mind sharp. Too often it's as if I can feel it decaying physically. Morbid, I know. But I've seen what Alzheimer's can do first hand. I don't want that. Ever. Take everything from me, but leave me my memories, as untainted as is possible for memories to be. Though I acknowledge the fact that memories are so easily biased - truth is not what happens but how people remember its happening. But I digress from my digression. Let me have my mind. It's the one thing that is truly mine - "I think, therefore, I am." I am. Please let me be.

Anyway - Friday. Work concluded early and yet it was the longest half-day of my life. I wanted to put my head through a desk, wall, or electronic device. After talking myself down and recuperating at home for a bit, I went on a shopping excursion with the family. I got a new straightener just like Elise's as it occured to me that if she wasn't living with me next year, I wouldn't have 24 hour access to hers. And being as she once told me that "maybe if [I] used it, [I] would be pretty," I've developed a bit of a complex. $137.94 later, I was the proud owner of a Chi straightener. It's glorious. Money well spent. As if the temptations of Favorite Store A (Ulta) weren't enough, we headed to Favorite Store B (Barnes and Noble), where, Praise God, I had a gift certificate. A new Sudoku book was purchased along with A Wedding in December and Goodnight, Nobody - which was pointed out to be very ironic, considering me new comeback of choice: "I'm dying alone." I don't care - it was a good book.

Saturday was the beginning of Pam and George's Summer Extravaganza Part One. After arriving about 2 hours later than expected, but bearing manna from heaven in the form of New York Bagels, we began our fun-filled weekend with a trip to pick up my other half. Ms. Jenna Marie was not yet decent, however, so we had a slight delay before introductions. The two of them really seemed to hit it off. As Jen went shopping, Georgie and I made our way to Riverside to get the essential Boost Slushie. It's a Burlington County thing. We determined that since Georgie has a slushie machine and I have Boost, that will be our drink of choice next year. Yumm. Thoroughly refreshed and having recovered personally from a rather serious bout of brainfreeze,

we went on a tour of my little town. Edgewater Park has three parts - typical suburbia (my part), the old part (with the huge river houses from the 1700s), and the rich part (with the huge houses from the 1990s). It was a good waste of gas and time. Then we waited for J to arrive and it was off to Billy D.'s for ghost hunting...at 4 in the afternoon. After our group grew and then shrank (following the line quoted in my title), we ended up with 6 people - Georgie, J, and I, and Billy, Jim, and Mitch. We headed for the woods and found an awesome look-out tower. Not at all scary, but pretty cool. What in retrospect was probably a dumb move, we climbed it to the top and you could see all the way to the shore. Pretty awesome. And away from wild dogs. After a little walk in the woods, we waited until dusk to look for the asylum. We found what was left of it and took some pictures. Then as it got to be night, we followed a trail a little deeper than the mile and a half or so we already were into the woods. Now, I'm not all that worried about finding a ghost or whatever, because frankly, I'm skeptical. What I am worried about are pineys and animals - both of which are located in Warton State Forest. So when Jim, who knows the Pine Barrens best after hunting in them, says "Keep going at a steady pace, and don't freak out, but there is something following us," that's when I get scared. We made it back to the cars in one piece and started the drive back to the main road. On the way out, the last car containing Billy and J started flashing its brights and honking. Naturally, George and I stopped to see what was wrong. "There's something behind us - go go!!" Billy screamed. Lo and behold, I could see headlights in my review mirror. So Georgie picked up the pace, only to have an oblivious Jim and Mitch in front of us. Oh, to have had a camera in front of the line of cars to catch Jim and Mitch's bored looks and conversation, George and my's confusion as he tried to dodge potholes and I frantically dialed Jim and Jenna's numbers, and Billy and Jen in tears as they were doing their best to get away from this car that came out of no where. A little ways into the pursuit, I looked back only to see that the lights were gone. Thinking the car had turned off the road, but not remembering a place where that could happen, I let it go until we stopped at a ranger station. Here, Billy and Jen tumbled out of the car in hysterics saying the car had disappeared, not turned off the road. Eerie, probably easily explained away by most, but undoubtedly entertaining. We rounded out the night at the diner, as all true South Jersians would.

Sunday, post-Mass, Georgie and I watched Transamerica. Good movie, a bit graphic and morally creepy at times, but still well done and amazingly acted. Then it was BBQ time! Abbreviated family, but still nice. The surprise moment of the night occured when Elise and Dino decided to come join us. We tried to get Stacey up to have a whole Quadropod reunion, but she wasn't into it. Boo. So we settled for 3/4, Dino and Jen. Got to take a look at The Complete Works. I was pretty impressed, actually. I was a little mad that my dad missed a lot of the action on the sides of the stage, being as he taped the first time he saw the show, but it was our best night. But he missed my "Oob" =(. Oh well. A couple episodes of "Child Stars: Where Are They Now?" closed out the evening.

On Georgie's last day in the Garden State, we stopped by Coldstone so he could meet my Dimple and Dave. I realized how much I miss it there. Dave said he would give me the same hours I worked at La Salle if I would switch. So tempting in some ways. Since the store was empty, I did get to jump on the stone and make up some things. ::sigh::. Then it was off to Billy D.'s for a bit to see my loves. Mrs. Drummond is amazing - she and Chris made great food. Had a relatively okay conversation with Brian. Baby steps, I suppose. Took George back to my house and sent him on his way. Sadness. I then grabbed Jen from her BBQ after saying hi - or rather "hewwo" - to her new goddaughter, Mia, and we went back to to Bill's. There, the three of us watched the wonder that is Brokeback Mountain (not because it's some huge statement, but because it's cute - I just want them to be together!).

Driving home, Jen talked about how sometimes she is surprised we were still best friends. That we made it through high school. We would sometimes go months without talking because we were so busy. But I never doubted that we would make it. It was because whenever we did get to see each other we picked up right where we left off. But it was harder for her. Our high schools were so different. She was lucky when she had one close girl friend to talk to. I, on the other hand, had nine, each of whom I could go to for different things. J and I's rough points just came at different times. Mine was more conducive to she and I spending time together, being as it was summer. But having spent so much time with her already this summer, I'm really excited. And she said it, too. She claims that she'll be around a lot because she doesn't have any friends here now. Well that's fine by me - and many of my friends, actually. She's like me but cooler, more laid back - she fits with us. The prospect of us having this summer both single and neither upset over a guy is incredibly appealing. Reconnecting and just hanging out should be amazing. Plus we can bond over our office jobs.

So in all, it was an amazing weekend. Thanks to everyone who played a part.

In other news, I got my first mosquito bite of the summer. It itches.

"Excuse me, I believe you have my stapler..."

Oh, Office Space - As I've mentioned before, it honestly has become the story of my life. Not to mention my boss looks oddly similar to Bill Lumbergh. I'm there right now, taking a break from Sudoku and staring at the wall to write this. Aside from the relative boredom, things are going well. I've actually had a good week over all. You have five seconds to be shocked...

Ok that's enough. Saturday evening I got to play catch-up with some of the ladies from home and with Vaughn. Fantastic. We watched Just Friends - and you should to, if only for the first five minutes and the credits. Absolutely wonderful. Sunday held The Fray concert. They were amazing, especially considering I just started actually listening to them. I don't usually like going to see bands when I don't know the majority of the words, because (surprise, surprise) I like to sing along. They were really good though. One of my absolute favorite things at concerts is when the different bands will randomly come out and sing with each other. It's so cute when it's spontaneous. So they did that with the opening act The Damnwells, and it was awesome. I actually really liked The Damnwells, too. Yay for finding new bands.

This week has been La Salle's reunion week, it seems. Tuesday night I headed up to visit Mary Ellen in north Jersey. It was great. I got to meet a bunch of her friends and, despite the North Jersey/South Jersey rift, we really hit it off. But then again, how could you not over a night of Taboo, Leeches!, Komodo vs Cobra, and prank phone calls about devil moose? We also took in three episodes of Grey's Anatomy from Season 2 that she had on her computer. I am way too addicted to that show. Way. In addition to that trip - which was also my first major solo road trip (be proud for I only got lost once and found my way without panicking) - the hour approaches in which The Favorites will be reunited! Georgie is coming down this weekend. Madness will surely ensue. He gets to meet Jenna and most likely the majority of the rest of south Jersey. An expedition into the depths of the Pine Barrens is planned plus plenty of spontenaity. Yes, you read that correctly - I am going to be spontaneous. I can't wait. I miss my Georgie. And I miss the rest of you, too. Particularly the rest of my Quadropod who I have not heard from nearly enough this summer - Elise, where are my drunken phone calls? Stacey, where is that smiling face I need to see? Not cool. I don't like being so spread out. Story of the college student's life, I know. But now that I'm starting to see the kiddies from home more it's not as bad. Tonight is Cross's prom. A couple of the girls and I are going to Promenade to see everyone. My babies are getting so grown up. I am such a mom - I'm taking a million pictures. I'm glad I'm feeling better about home now. I think it was just apprenhension before. Now that I've started to see the girls again, I'm much more comfortable. Thank God.

Cut back to the office. I am currently playing the part of the receptionist. Pam the Receptionist. It's been done. Anyone watch The Office? Anyone? Quality. And my life.

"Somewhere between 'unsure' and 'a hundred'..."

I have been ordered to update. I am offically a member of the Blogspot community.

What to say, what to say. Life has been relatively uneventful. What with school being out, events seem just as spread out as friends. The highlight of my break thus far occurred yesterday afternoon. So your college has famous speakers and prestigious alumni. Your football team is unbeatable and basketball is second to none. But at my college a cop killer is approached at the apartments I regularly go to parties in and is apprehended after a shootout down the street outside the window of the office I work in. And I get to watch.

Hell yeah, I am La Salle.

So needless to say the office came to a stand still for all of a half hour as we watched out our window as John Grady with his Jedi-like powers and mob connections mingled with police. Then it was back to filing as usual. Don't get me wrong - despite the typical monotony and simplicity of it, I love my job overall. There are enough little things that happen to make it worth the less than amazing pay. Moments like yesterday. Like picnics on the ground with food from TGIFridays. As in waffles for breakfast when the boss is out and writing a musical defacing Disney songs on company time. I get paid to know my alphabet and do Sudoku. And give the occasional tour to people from the Czech Republic. It's like living in Office Space or on The Office. Anyone who doesn't see the humor in either of those things needs to work with me for a day. You'll find it.

Otherwise - or rather in that same vein - life has been quiet. I've slowly been reconnecting with the Jersey Loves. I got to see Feesh the other afternoon on the pretense of lending a calculator. Also, Billy D and I talked into the wee hours of the morning on the meaning of life and philosophy. Seriously. He and I can just do that. It's weird, they say you find people in college to have those deep conversations with. Well, I think about it and I didn't have one of those this year. Oh yeah, I had serious talks - but they were all like 'how does this relate to me' types. Billy D. and I talk in the big picture sense. I love it. And I missed it more than I realized. Jenna is home and we picked up right where we left off. That's the best part about our friendship - it never really falters. It's like we put it on pause for a few weeks but when we come back, it's right where we left it. So beautiful. Tonight I went and saw Over The Hedge with my babies Christopher and Shawn Kyle. And those are the two I laugh hardest with here. Honestly, from previews through the credits we never stopped. "It is Persian for 'I am Persian'"..."spuuuuudies and coffee - you fat bitch!"..."curse you, weldsman of plastic"..."its a cow farm...dersgonbeacowindabackyaarrdd". Yeah. I knew I needed to start working my abs again. This was the perfect way.

But something here is still not sitting right. I still can't do big groups. So strange. But after last summer's debacle, beginning with senior week right through the semi-self-inflicted quarantine and isolation, I'm not quite sure where to start again. Like in big groups - which happen often when there are nine of you - I feel like an outsider. Like I'm missing something. And I'm sure most of it is psychological on my part, but some of it isn't. I think they still like to shelter me from some things. They think I'll judge. And for a long time I would have. I was a very judgemental person in high school - one of my many self-admitted flaws. But I'm learning. I am. And if I can let them grow up in their ways, why won't they let me grow up in mine? Give me a chance at least. Let me earn whatever praise or scorn I deserve. I don't need you to shelter me anymore. I hope that in itself doesn't sound too condescending. It probably does. It could be subconcious and unintential on my part - I radiate judging like I radiate nerdiness - I have flashing neon signs apparently that everyone but me can see. But I just want a chance to get back to where I was. And I know I'm not fully doing my part yet, but I'm nervous. So when I can finally try I hope they can, too. And if they're still the friends I think they are, they will.

And then I find out I'm a heartbreaker all over again. Just when the guilt starts to abate just a little, when I start to move on, a chance encounter brings it all back. I broke his heart, they tell me. Mine was a little bruised compared to what I did to him, they say. And even though I knew what I did, it still came as a shock. Why? I don't know exactly. All along I knew that situation was bad. I knew that I wasn't being fair and that I screwed up. Anyone who's heard the story has to admit that it was a pretty shitty thing to do - fuck the honesty aspect - I still put him through hell. And I knew that. And I felt guilty on my own about it. And I apologized and tried to mend things and never forgave myself and tried to make things work again and make it up to him. But he wouldn't let me. Because although he said it was fine and said we could get past it, we couldn't. Because he never admitted that he was hurt. And he didn't yell and he didn't talk to me and let us sort things out. It was just buried. The proverbial elephant in the room. Eventually it ended and I had to deal with my actions. Never would I say that I wasn't at fault. But he did. So how was I to know? The fact is, I just should have. I should have known him well enough, recognized the signs on my own to see. But I didn't. So when my honesty is finally returned by others, it floors me again. What was I expecting? Maybe for them to sugar-coat it a little. It's easier when, even though you know you were wrong, someone says it's okay, even if all you'll do is deny it eventually anyway. It still is comforting. On some major level, though, I appreciate the straightforwardness more. It stings, but it is, in fact what I asked for. Dish it and take it, if you will. And in the long run there are fewer loose ends with honesty. I really do enjoy it. But right now it sucks. Because I'm feeling guilty all over again. And I try and rationalize it - we were just kids, he's moved on, I'm getting what I deserve as it is in a different shoddy relationship followed by what's shaping up to be a good long period of being single (not complaining, I need it) - but that rationalizing in itself makes me feel guilty. These are people and feelings we're talking about, not just numbers and words, it's not something to be rationalized. Maybe I had just started to desensitize myself to it - make it less human and less real by telling and retelling the story. And here it is right in front of me again. I compartmentalize. School was a different compartment, hence safe. Not for long of course, but it was totally isolated. And that shouldn't change too much anyway, I don't have joint memories of us there. But home is different. There's history here. And I was never really a fan of history. So less than three weeks into summer and I realize that it could be a long one. This is the trouble with having the same group of friends as your ex. I don't want to subject them to the awkwardness and I don't want to make them choose, so I do it myself, and I lose in the process...again. I'm forming quite the record here...I look like the Eagles of the mid-90s.

Alright, enough enough. I did not want this journal to become one giant cry for pity, which it seems to have done anyway, againt my intent. I promise one day I'm going to have one big happy entry. I'm ruining my happy-go-lucky image on here. I swear, just reading this one might think I was an unhappy person.

Who me? Couldn't be.

"Cross Your Fingers and Pray for Winter..."

So this is going to be ridiculously long and possibly just as depressing. I know I haven't updated in a while and some of you may feel inclined to read, but pace yourselves. You have been warned.

Alright, I think I'm going to work backward here. I'm home now. So strange. "They say home is where the heart is/ but what a shame/cuz everyone's heart doesn't beat the same" - Greenday. My heart is currently split up between five states. Gross. I'm in a very weird place right now. Don't get me wrong, I lovew that school is done. I, just like everyone else, needed a break from that oppressive college workload. I need sun, time to read pointless books, the beach, and sleep. See? I'm not a robot. Or if I am, I need to recharge my batteries. And on the bright side I will be working there all summer. Admissions. Come visit. So I'm not going far. But still, I want a little island, and I'm going to fly all the people I like there and we will live in a college-like environment -- classes optional, homework never. It would be beautiful. I know we've got next year, but it won't be the same. Yeah, it still is going to be fun, but as I discussed with Kate last night, I love my freshman standing. It's my excuse for innocence. Sophomores are expected to know better in all aspects. They are jaded in all departments by a year of college. So now I have that year, too. But I kind of like innocence - my image holds. But I can see it getting old with people next year. Don't get me wrong - odds are it won't change, but while a fresh-faced freshman is appealing, a sophomore with the same attributes is sort of...sad.

Maybe I'm wrong. I didn't feel this way going from first to second year of high school. I also didn't feel so threatened by the incoming class. This is a major issue for me this year. I have a horrible fear of being replaced in each thing I'm involved in by that new freshman. It's going to happen. And I know I'm a jealous person by nature, but this is irrationally severe - border-line debilitating. I am at war with myself, one side saying 'get over yourself and be happy that there will be new people for you to learn from next year and keep you on your toes' and the other being the typical Aries spotlight-hog you all have come to know. I'm worried that people felt like this last year. I'm more worried they didn't. What is my issue then? Why the constant need for attention? Maybe its because I don't realize what I did to get any of it, and now the thought of not having it would be a change. And we all know how I deal with change. Each area is primed for their next golden child. It's just that, alright - I go into work and I do my job - I give tours, and then I go on stage and I play a part. I don't know what makes me doing either of those things stand out to people anymore than anyone else. I certainly notice other people more, and I just want to scream "But look at them! They're running circles around me...why can't you see it?" So maybe it's the fact that my, I don't know, "achievements" were subconcious to me and now I don't know what to do to keep them going. So what happens when a person who has him or herself together walks in? But more importantly, why does it even matter? Maybe it's a self-confidence thing. Gross.

On the topic of self-confidence, though, I don't think I'm too worse for wear. At least I put on a good show of it most of the time, I think. I mean, I have lapses (I need to start working out again) just like anyone else, but overall, I'd say I'm fine. I'm relatively sure about who I am. I'm happy. I won't be alone. I know I joke about it a lot ("I'm going to die alone," "I'm going to start buying cats so I won't die alone," etc), but I know that's not true. One day, some guy is going to come along and say, "This one's not so bad...a little quirky, but hey she makes good mac and cheese, so I guess it evens out," and that will be that. And until then, I'm fine with just me. So I guess that stands for something. I mean, I think about it, and this time alone is good for me. I haven't been single (read: single and functional) in...5 years...so I need this. Not so I can "find myself" or anything like that, because I'm pretty sure I'm right here. It's like, yeah, I was in a long-term relationship for arguably the most developmental years of my life, but I still think that I turned out okay. No matter what I say now, Brian was good for me then. I was able to grow up as Pam, not PamandBri. So I started to figure myself out, but just had the benefit of a loving (?) relationship in addition. No, scratch the question mark. On my end it was true - I never lied when I said "I love you." I can account for now. It's like, as you grow up and learn and mature, your capacity to love changes, too - grows and shifts. Now, in a lasting relationship, the love you have for a specific person grows with that capacity. In most cases, though, the love stays the same, while the capacity grows - sort of like pouring a cup of water into a bigger glass. So it's not as fulfilling, but that doesn't mean it was never there. Or that it won't always be there. That's how I've looked at it for awhile - it gives me hope...and makes me not a liar. But I digress (I love that phrase). So here sits a person who is taking a little time off. Who knows that someone will find her eventually. And if that doesn't speak to self confidence, I don't know what does.

And yet, something has been on my mind for a while now. Since the formal, I'd say. Don't get me wrong, I had a blast - particularly memorable and hysterical was the bus ride home (ask me about it). I recieved the Rookie of the Year award. It's for the freshman who has made a sizable contribution to The Masque in the first year. I should mention that Kate was also given the award this year, a rare occurance. Personally, I don't see then issue - I would have given it to her hands down. I was honestly surprised to have the honor of recieving it. Because what do I do that several other people don't do better than me already? I act - so I've done it in four shows here - ok, but each is easily justified. Cockaigne - Chris had worked with me all summer and knew I was reliable. Plus, I never really got past adolescence so the whole playing a thirteen year old thing wasn't much of a stretch. Also, if you look in the program it wasn't even me - it was Pam McDonald (kidding, kidding). Forum - I'm bendy. And i had a couple years of dance under my belt - there you go. Red Herring - Tom now knew I was reliable. And that I could play a small, bell-like instrument. And Shakespeare - not all that many people tried out, first off. Then there's the fact that I am easily thrown and carried and can say things like "pre-Neitzchian" and "jejune" coherently at an elevated rate of speech. Right then. I'm not the one staying up til all hours of the night to make something that actors will probably abuse and break several times before opening anyway. I don't stand backstage and deal with people like myself screaming for costume changes and props like I'm the end all, be all of the group. And I certainly don't watch other people take a bow and get applause and be recognized for what they did while I sit quietly backstage waiting for the curtain to close so I can reset for the next night. I get my recognition every time I set foot on that stage. She does not. As a matter of fact - so many techies do not. So I don't see where the issue arose. Please don't mistake me here - I'm ridiculously honored - I just have trouble wrapping my mind around it.

And then came Kiss the Wall. Here's where things got tough. Staying until the end was never a question for me. I enjoyed the whole night. I wish I had been better prepared for it. There's so much more I could have said. I think about it now. I should have written letters or something, while still riding the emotional wave of the night. Hell, I should have written this entry then, too. Then maybe it would be beautiful, like Melissa's. But the fact is I couldn't. I had thoughts, but I couldn't put them into words yet. I'm still having trouble. So I wait until I can rationalize more. Until I can convince myself of the logical progression of things. So imagine my concern when things don't get any easier. So now I struggle with my thoughts a week later. The seniors wont be back next year: fact. The effects of that occurence though, I can't quite figure out yet. As I think about it, it blows my mind what they managed to do. Nik, Allie, Gwen, Elisa...I forget sometimes that they are only 21, 22 years old. It's so young. I can't see myself having the effect that they had in such a short amount of time. I feel so far behind. I don't worry for them like I worry for me. I know they will be just fine. I wonder do they know that, too? Or are we all blind to our own personal potential? I'd be happy to tell them over and over again that I know they're about to make changes in places bigger than The Masque. To constantly remind them of the fact that I'm slightly starstruck conversing with them, being with them - just listening to them talk. Even when I can't quite believe the things the say. At Kiss the Wall, Gwen gave me the People Crush award. It means I'm the person people, for some-not-quite-known reason, are drawn to. And if she deosn't know why, then I sure as hell don't. She said that she respected what I did on stage. I don't get that. This from the person who made everything come to a stand-still when she sang. And that, ladies and gentlemen, is what is missing for me. I can't do that. I do not have that kind of stage presence. And yet I'm dying for it. Since last Saturday, it's all I can think about. How I want a shot at something like that. I have yet to feel like I have been pushed to stretch for a role. I don't know why. But until that happens, I don't know how I can have that kind of effect. To me, that is what makes a great actor. I want to make an audience forget where they are for three and a half minutes. I want to captivate people who have seen the same scene over and over again. I want to make people feel. Really feel. And I just don't see that actually happening. And maybe that's why I'm so reluctant for this next class to come in and for next year to start. It's like I already have enough going against me in this battle with myself to be the best I can be that the thought of added pressure from others is terrifying. I feel like I will break. It's like I get before every show: a week a head of time I am always consumed with the irrational fear that I am going to break my ankle. I can feel it. And that's what I feel like now, just that instead of a twinge in my ankle, it's in my heart. And still I want more. No one quite got what I said at the end of Kiss the Wall, so I kept saying in to everyone, in hopes that eventually someone would have been in my place and could tell me what would come next: "I don't want to let you down." All the seniors seem to have such high hopes for me. They seem to think I can go so far. So I feel like I'm carrying this big secret - that I've hit a wall. And so I felt the need to apologize and to warn them. I don't want their faith to be misplaced. And I don't want to let them down. So there is dome type of pressure there. Whether it's from me, or unintentionally from them, from Chris, from anyone who has ever paid me a compliment, I don't know. I seem to set my goals so high that when I, by some stroke of luck, attain them quickly, I'm stuck at the top and am terrified of the fall.

So there you have it...so much for self-confidence - I'm scared.