Purpose - January 31,2006

*Note: I accidentally posted one blog twice as I was backlogging -is that a verb? Dad's been complimenting me on my writing *hilarious, since all these interesting things happen, and all Dad can notice is how my writing is maturing... cute* and I don't want to ruin my good streak with bad grammar...- SO, after that digression within a digression there... January 17th's post is changed.*

I'm having a hard time breathing tonight. I'm not sure why. (And no, this isn't for dramatic effect- you wanted my real life and here it is... Bodily functions and all...) Dee says it's because we had a hard day (What, a 9 hour day is hard?? No! Ya don't say!) and my lungs got a work out. I'm not sure what it is, but I thought if I were to die tonight, I should at least write a good blog about it.

Ok, enough morbid humor.

The week has been routine enough.

Or not.

Todrick, my partner in the duet, had a problem with his passport so had to go home to Texas until we get there on Sunday, so he'll miss the big office run on Friday, which creates a huge blocking problem (dancer-speak for: arrangements of dancers on stage) for our directors and our poor dance captain, my very own roommate (at the moment) Dee. She's currently poring over stage diagrams figuring out where we should go now that we're missing a body on stage. (Poor thing.)

So Gareth, Todrick's understudy, (and coincidently, his boyfriend) is getting a crash course in Todrick's track. He's stressed, to say the least. (Poor Gareth)

And I cried for at least ten minutes on the ride back from home this weekend. (Poor me.)
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This weekend was so great. I love every minute I'm at home. Ocean Cat is always extra snuggly, my room is always clean *I'm never there! Of course it's clean!* and seeing Levi is always so much fun! For the last two weekends we've had dinner with my Dad, which is always a treat. (Sushi, of course) This week was particularly fun for some reason, and I have some funny memories of laughing so hard wasabi almost shot out of my nose. (Well, not really, but it's a funny image, no?)

Emily and Gilligan (AKA Davey AKA David) finished their little blue canoe (AKA John) and we all took it for a test drive. (You can see pictures at www.regmaster.com/boat) They were so cute! But when I said I had to leave for six months I thought they were going to cry. (I thought I might too!) It was so sad! But I told them they're not allowed to grow an inch while I'm gone.

Before I left, we went to see Alan and Cindy. Levi's been helping Alan with his new computer, so while they tinkered, Cindy and I made cupcakes. Every time I've left home it's gotten harder and harder. Cindy and I baked cupcakes (cakes that will fit in a cup, get it?) until 10 pm, and then I left a little tired, but hyped up on confectionery sugar and frosting.

Levi and I didn't cry as much as last time, he didn't really cry at all, but of course I did a little while he was there. I always wait to get in the car and put on a really sad song to really, really cry. (The Copeland CD got me this time, last time it was the Romeo and Juliet soundtrack.) But this week, something was different about me crying on drive back.

(And it wasn't the fact that it was super dangerous, since I was going in excess of 70 miles per hour both times. Yikes. And Dad thinks talking on the cell phone is dangerous....)

Last week, for some reason, as tears rolled down my face, I wondered why I was doing this. Why in the world was I leaving everything and everyone I loved? Why was I missing out on half of a year with my family, my kitty, my niece and nephew, time that I will never get back? The thought that most dominated my teary reverie was "Why am I doing this to Levi?" As if me working on this ship was something I was DOING to him, as in "Why am I hitting him over the head with this rubber mallet?"

(Ok, a little bit of a dramatic comparison, but same basic effect)

Well, this week, as I cried my little tears of self-pity, I didn't have those thoughts. I didn't really wonder why I was doing this. I feel like during the past week, though working with Lamar, I've realized that I'm here to learn and grow and achieve something. Not just mastering the choreography, but mastering something within myself. I'm really here to learn how to rein in and focus my energy as I dance; I'm here to learn how to perform.

I'm here for me.

And I realize that's selfish, self-centered, blah, blah, blah. But I'm 22. Now's the time. It's truly now or never. In a few years, I'll have so much more responsibility. I'll have so much more to worry about. A career, an apartment, a serious relationship and everything... Now is, albeit not the perfect time, probably the most ideal time.

Besides, Levi said if I really had to go dance on a ship and be away from him for six months, might as well get it over with now.

Quick. Like a bandaid.

Well, this time next week, I'll be on 'said' ship. My home for the next half of a year. The Rhapsody of the Seas. Setting sail in T-Minus five days.

I can't wait.