Journal 29

Nature was in control the night the tornado blew through my childhood town. I was eleven years old, and we were living in a one level three bedroom house, complete with a quaint living room and a miniscule kitchen. It was tiny and cozy, but the complete opposite of anything that could be considered safe during a major storm.       Mere hours before it hit town, my family of six was sleeping soundly in our beds. I never really understood what was happening when i was awakened by a loud knocking on our door, the sound of  anxious voices, the whistle of the wind tearing through the trees, and the frantic running of my parents feet through out house. Me and my sisters bedroom door flew open, the light switch was turned on hastily, and my dad's voice broke through the silence of sleep. " Get dressed--HURRY--and don't forget to put on socks!" Me and my sister shot out of our beds like lightning. Faith jumped off the top bunk,  the loud thump making me flinch  and stared at me, her eyes like dinner plates, "What's happening?!" I looked back at her and shrugged. We tore through our room, throwing our pj's to the floor and yanking jeans and long sleeve shirts on our bodies. We didn't put on socks. We grabbed our blankets and pillows and ripped through the hallway to the living room where  my other sister Lydia was lazily lounging on the couch, half-asleep, and oblivious to everything going on around her. The next few seconds were a chaotic blur. My parents appeared out of their bedroom, my mom carrying my youngest sister, only a baby, in a carrier. My dad's face was wrinkled with worry, his arms full of other supplies and paraphernalia.  My mom swiftly handed me my youngest sister and took Faith and i by the arms, pulling us towards the door. With a yank, the door flew open, smacking the wall with a loud clap like thunder, and we raced to the van, the wind ripping our hair and clothes back. We were in the van in seconds, and my mom left us in, then raced back to the house to help my dad carry Lydia and the other supplies we brought. I looked out the window. The trees were dancing terribly, their leaves shaking almost with fear. Leaves and papers and hay was flying through the air. The sky was dark, stained black as embers and looming over us like a massive monster. The next few seconds, again, were a blur. My parents raced from the house, and were in the van. Before i even comprehended it, we were driving. "Where are we going?" I asked. My dad replied back gruffly, "the church. There's a basement there we'll be safe in." So we zoomed across town like a speeding train. When we got to the church, we filed out of the car as fast as was possible, our arms full of our things and our hearts racing, stomachs tight like knives. The few pain staking seconds it took for my dad to put the key in the lock, drop it, then stuff it back in again to unlock the door was torturous. But once we were in, sweet relief flooded through us like streams. We ran to one of the basement rooms and made camp there, throwing our blankets on the floor, cuddling up, trying to keep the jitters at bay. I remember my dad pulling out a storm radio. He let it drone in the background as my mom got me and my other sisters singing, to distract us from the storm. I don't really remember if i fell asleep that night. All i remember is the sound of our voices, singing softly, and the beautiful sunlight that was there to greet us in the morning.

Journal 28

If i was in a place with a different culture or social status it would be a very unique experience. Personally, i've always wanted to go to a place where the culture is different from my own. America is great, and some places have different cultures here, but i've always wanted to go India or Africa, or places like that to be immersed in it and see how they live differently from us. I find other cultures to be extremely beautiful, and from what i've heard, it's a wonderful and enlightening experience. Mainly because you realize that there is so much about people and about the world that you never knew. I've always wanted to go to Mexico too, for the Day of the Dead and see what it's like down there. Every time i hear about it, or see documentaries discussing it and showing pictures, its always so colorful and unique from anything i've ever seen here in America. Or China! It would be amazing to go to China for Chinese New Years! It's a huge celebration filled with so much culture and tradition, and i don't want to die knowing i missed out! There is so much i still don't know, partially because i've never been out of the country, but i really would like to travel someday and see the world. The closest thing i've ever gotten to other cultures is in Epcot in Disney world, and all of that stuff is just to give you the 'feel' of what it would be like to travel to a different place with a different culture. I want to GO to all those places.

On the social status side, the places where a persons social status is way lower than yours changes you.   When my mom went to Bulgaria on a mission trip, it really changed her view on life. She was among people who were so poor, they barely had any clothes at all. It made her realize how lucky we are, and how you can't let a persons social status decide for you how you will treat someone. Going to a place where people are different from you can really make you appreciate the life you live.

journal 25

My little sister Lydia loves to give. Actually, it might just be one of her most favorite things in the whole world. Whenever she gets the chance, she likes to get something and give it to someone else. Shes always thinking of others, and it puts pretty much everyone in the entire world to shame.

For her eleventh birthday this year, she had a couple friends over for a slumber party, and instead of requesting they bring presents for her, she asked them to bring school supplies for children less fortunate who live in the Dominican republic  (my dad went there this summer on a missionary trip and discovered that the children he met barely had any school supplies they needed in order to learn). Her friends complied, and she had my dad mail them to the people he met there.

For Christmas, she wanted nothing. Absolutely nothing for herself. Rather than tell my parents what she wanted for Christmas, she told them she didn't want anything. She wanted my parents to buy her some presents to give to charity, and children who don't have anything. So my parents took her to the store, and she picked out around five different presents--some for a girl, some for a boy--and i've never seen her happier. When Christmas came around, we took her to the charity she wanted to donate too, and we dropped the gifts off. She was extremely happy. I've never seen a kid her age so glad to have gotten nothing for Christmas. Of cource, i made sure to get her a bracelet that she loved.

Shes just such a sweet kid who makes us all look bad. And i hope that in the long run it pays off. Anyone who could give that much and expect nothing back should be rewarded someday. It would be such a hard thing to do, but for her, it really isn't. She likes doing it. she'd rather do that then recieve anything at all. It's really amazing and cool and fantastic how she is.

Journal #27

To be away from my family for years without getting to see them would be extremely difficult for me and them alike.  But if i was going to defend my country, and i decided to go into the military, i would hope that the passion i had for that would be enough to curb the sorrow i would feel.

My family is big, and i have three younger sisters who aren't even grown up yet. If i actually DID do the military, it would be after highschool, right after, and the oldest of the youngest would be a senior, one would be a seventh grader, and another would be a fifth grader. Children already have enough worry in their lives, and making them worry about me all the time would hurt me the most. That would be the hardest part. Knowing that i was worrying my sisters--making them think everyday how they would cope if i ended up dead.

And then there would be my mother and father. They love me deeply, as do my sisters, but their love is much different. My parents already lost one child, and the guilt of me putting myself in danger would practically kill me everyday. Anytime i had to do something mildly dangerous, it would rip my heart out because i'd be thinking, "Oh my parents would never recover if something happened to me," and it's true. They wouldn't.

Being so far away without contact would also kill me. Having no face time with them would especially hurt. Would i forget what they sounded like? Pictures would show me what they looked like, but  I'd miss seeing  my sisters  grow up. I wouldn't get back till two my sisters were graduated (one from middle school, one from highschool and/or college) and my youngest would be getting ready too. That would be an extremely painful experience. Getting back and seeing how fast my two youngest sisters childhood disappeared. Knowing i wasn't fully apart of it.

And then there's the secret factor. I don't like keeping secrets from my family. But being in the military would require that, which would be especially hard.

My only hope would be that the passion i had would be enough to curb sorrow. If i was dedicated whole-heartedly, i wouldn't let it get me down.

Journal #26

Last year when i was auditioning for the high school musical My Fair Lady, things did not turn out the way i was expecting them too.

The tryout days were scheduled for tuesday and wednesday of that week, and i was pretty nervous.

Usually i'm confident, but part of the reason i was so nervous was because i was excited to get started. I hadn't done any acting since the fall when i was in Musical Comedy Murders of 1940, and i was getting really eager to get back into something again.

Anyway, when the audition day came, i was really excited and nervous.

I didn't know what part i wanted, really. I mean, of course i would have liked to get the lead, Elisa Doolittle, but it was really doubtful that i would. I thought maybe i'd just get an average singing role--maybe a chorus person--because the cast was made up of a lot of boy characters and i'm clearly not a guy!

So i went in to the auditions (shaking a little!) and waited filled out the papers and waited to be called to sing my audition song.

I was ready when they called me, and when i went up, and in order to get the nerves off, i kind of joked with  Mrs. Oh and told her  that if Colonel Pickering could be a girl, i'd totally do it. She smiled and then i went back to sit down.

After i thought about what i'd said, i decided that it wouldn't be SO bad to get one of the male roles. I mean, Pickering DID get to sing and got a fair amount of stage time and lines, and was a distinctive character, so it coudln't be all that bad. It would be weird, maybe awkward, and pretty challenging, though. Then i thought about actors in general. Only the best actors are asked to play characters of their opposite gender because it's challenging.

I wasn't really sure what i wanted at the end of the day, but i was really expecting to get a chorus part or maybe a small minor speaking part.

Later that week, i got a text from Mrs. Oh that said i was going to be Colonel Pickering though!!
I was completely  thrown off! I realized that when i'd said it, i'd really, deep down, meant it as a sort of joke!
So getting a text telling me that i was going to be one of the lead male roles in the musical this spring was probably one of the most unexpected things ever.

Though it wasn't as expected, i did my best and worked my hardest at the role. I payed attention to some guy friends for a few days and noted how they walked differently and had different mannerisms from a girl, and i compleatly changed how i moved on stage and how i talked.

It was unexpected, but i enjoyed the opportunity and had a great time!