its neccessary to take an evening to yourself to get organized, free your mind, and spend some time at home with your dad.  

I am pleased to announce that I am the proud recipient of the Sunnyslope Vocal Award.  I could not feel more accomplished. :)  Thank you, Mrs. Coury.

Thank you for everything you’ve blessed me with—a house to live in (but not a home), a car to drive at will, a credit card to buy things (to an extent) freely with, and college tuition.  No doubt, you have spoiled me, but I truly believe I’ve managed to remain greatful for the gifts I’ve recieved, despite Andy and your future wife’s opinion.  

Dad, I love you, and I miss the old days; I miss my old dad.  I have no right to tell you how to run your life, though I often feel the need to voice my opinion.  My problem is that I have to accept the fact that you’ll never again be the dad I knew as a child.  I’m growing up, and you’re moving on.  Life is different, and I don’t want it to be, but I can’t stop it.  

I’m leaving for college, you’ll move to Colorado and eventually get married, and I have no say in your future plans.  I won’t be at your wedding, just so you know.  I understand that you deserve happiness in your life found with a spouse, but I don’t believe you’re marrying your fiance (of apparently three years) for the right reasons.  

You’ve kept it a secret of sorts for three years that you’re engaged, which says enough in itself.  In addition, you’re fiance is judgmental (not that I can talk), and disapproves of Greg and I, who have not been rude to her until she’s made “sarcastic” jokes about us or overstepped her boundaries attempting to fill in the mother position in our lives.  She is not our mother, nor our friend; all she will ever be to us is the woman who makes our father happy, and she needs to figure that out.  You don’t even like the same music as her.  She’s eighteen years younger than you and sure, she may be “beautiful” to you, but her multiple plastic surgeries defy everything I thought you stood for.  She is a clean freak to an obnoxious level, and though you love her cooking, and to others I’m sure she’s a great cook, Greg and I cannot sit through a meal of her tasteless treats.  Have you never noticed how miserable she looks when she’s at the house putting away groceries and watering the yard? The woman is living the life, you pay for everything for her, she could at least fake a smile doing the few things you ask her to do.  Its not like I haven’t done the jobs she has—I’ve watered plants thwice a day on hot, July afternoons, I’ve fed all the animals while you were out of town and Mrs. Carlson was busy, I’ve groomed the animals myslef, I’ve helped you witht the Costco, Walmart, and grocery store runs—its work, but its not hard work if you try to make the best of it.  C’mon, Dad, on top of that I’ve kept your laundry room, entryway, and dining room clean for the last six years, cleaned underneath the couches, organized the closets, laundry room, and kitchen, and managed to get a reputable grade point average (taking three AP, college level, classes) while being in two choirs and actively participating in theater.  Sure I have my days, but I try to be happy, and I’ve succeeded well with everything I’ve taken on, and that, Dad, was not easy work.  Dad, Candy confronted me about your wardrobe not being nice enough for her like, to which I responded to let you wear what you want to wear, which she called tacky and unpresentable.  I’m sorry, but I like your cargo shorts and t-shirts, I like your wrangler jeans and flece tops, just like I liked Wes’s baggy jeans and 50 cent resale shop t-shirts.  Candy has done to you just what Sharon did to Wes.  Like Sharon, I know Candy means well.  I know Candy is nice, she helps you out in extensive amounts, and she’s trying to make you happy, but she and I simply don’t get along, nor do she and Greg.  I will leave to college, she will change the house that I have helped you remodel and decorate to her likings, and my home will no longer exist.  I guess thats life, though, things changing and people moving on, no matter how much it hurts those around them, and I just need to expect, respect, and accept those changes.  Forgive me though, its a little tough.

On the note of May 12, 2012

Things I did wrong:

• I said, “no one in this family is marrying a Norwegian,” in response to Greg claiming Malin is is future wife, not knowing Candy was of Norwegian decent
• After Greg brought up paying off your first two wifes, the most recent being my alcoholic mother, I said, “Which is why we’re not getting married again, right Dad?”
• After Candy dropped the bomb that you two were engaged to which Greg responded, “I was unaware of this,” I said, “Wow! Great communication, Dad, don’t expect Mrs. Carlson and I to be at your wedding.”
• I walked out the door and planned on going to Jack in the Box, but instead drove to Brian’s house crying.

I did a lot wrong, on top of just being in a bad mood when I got home.  Oddly enough, though, I’m not entirely mad at myself for what I said.  I’m upset, no doubt, but I’m also happy that some shit finally hit the fan, because honestly, Dad, thats the only way Greg and I can get anything accross to you these days.

I’m sorry for disappointing you to the point where you kicked me out of your house, but your not in the wrong for doing it.  I’m sorry that you and I have allowed our relationship to get this bad.  I’m sorry you and I fail miserably at communicating.  I hope you know that if you expect me to learn something from this incident that you additionally learn something from this incident.  

So yeah, I’m sorry.

Side Note: Please, wonderful people who follow me, don’t respond to this.

I guess you could call it that, but its more like a time to learn a lesson of some sort.  We’ll see how it goes!

Living at Brian’s house for a week could be a nice change.

Found my prom dress! Paid $50 for a $500 dress (Last Chance) 

Yay Free People!!! (It looks better in person!)

Earings $2.49 (Last Chance)

Shoes $14.99 (My sister’s closet, Scottsdale)

Its a tough concept.  In some cases confidence is admirable, but in most, its obnoxious and condescending.  Confidence is also decieving.  I know, in the wonderful world of AMEA, that your ability to show that you have confidence can have an extreme effect on your performance’s judgment, whether your solo was correct or not.  Confidence intimidates people. I used to see confidence in those older than me, especially in theater and choir, and it frightened me; how could they be so sure of themselves? What was I doing wrong? 

But is confidence really that bad? No, its not.  Confidence is what you make of it.

I can honestly say that I’ve never been confident in my music or studies until this year.  I knew I was above average, but I didn’t believe I was talented.  Now, I can see it, and feel it, and truly believe in myself.  I have confidence.  Its taken quite a while, and I still have my moments, but at the end of the day I can look in the mirror and say to myself, good job.  Perhaps a new life in Chrtist and supportive friends are the reason for my confidence, or perhaps its just an atribute of “coming of age.”  I’m honestly not sure.  

If you don’t have confidence, give it time.  It will come to you if you let it. 

Believe in yourself!  Have faith in your abilities!  Without a humble but reasonable confidence in your own powers you cannot be successful or happy.