A Day At the Circus

I always joke that I miss school because, for most of my life, all I've known was school. After all, I started school at about two years, nine months old. I went to one of those Pre-School, Nursery School, and Kindergarten type places. They were supposed to teach me how to read and write and stuff in order to get me ready to go to an actual Kindergarten in an actual school (a Catholic School...the place I went to was private but not in a Catholic School).

Of course, I spent most of my time there driving the teachers crazy. Not because I was a bad kid or anything like that. I was far too afraid of my mother to be bad in school even then. I never wanted the teachers to tell her that I was acting out or not behaving well in school...even if it wasn't actual school. Nope, I drove the teachers crazy in my own little way. See, my mom made sure I knew how to read and write and count BEFORE I started Nursery School. While all the other kids were working on their letters and on how to write their names, I already knew how to read.

I was never sure how the teachers dealt with me having in their class, to tell the truth. I remember having to do the same work as everyone else but I also remember being bored a lot of the time. Up until like high school, I was bored a lot of the time in school but that's a whole other story.

Anyway...one of my earliest memories is from my Pre-School Days. I might have been maybe three or four but, for some strange reason, I remember this quite clearly. I guess because I thought I had a very important job to do and, because my mom had taken the day off from work (and my mom NEVER took days off from her job), I had to do my very best at my very important job.

See, every year, the Pre-School part of the school I went to put on a circus in the little playground attached to the school. We had a strong man (a boy in a muscle suit who picked up foam barbells and weights), clowns in colorful costumes, a tightrope walker (a girl who walked across a jump rope on the ground), acrobats who climbed on the jungle gym, a girl dressed as an elephant, and a lion tamer who had a whip, a hula hoop, and three "wild animals---" two lions and a tiger ---to train among other various and sundry circus acts.

I was the lion tamer the year I was in Pre-School. I thought myself very important because the lion tamer was a speaking part. Usually, there was no speaking involved in the little circus we had. There was just a lot of pretending and play acting while the teachers did all the speaking as ringmasters. The lion tamer, though, had to give orders to the animals so they could be...er...tamed. I remember I had to give commands like "stand," "sit," "speak," and, my favorite for some strange reason, "show your teeth!" I also had to make the lions and tiger jump through the hula hoop as part of the act but that part wasn't as fun for me since I was just holding the hoop.

I remember the Pre-School had a case of costumes and they gave us costumes to wear. I had a black, little frilly outfit with sequins on it and a top had with a sequined brim. I remember my Pre-School teacher, as well as my mom and the moms of some of my friends, laughing because my costume was entirely too big for me because I was a teeny, tiny little girl. They had to pin the costume up in several places so it wouldn't fall off but there was no helping the hat I had to wear. It just kept slipping down my forehead to rest on the bridge of my nose. I remember picking it up off my nose a few times but it just wouldn't stay where it was supposed to. Talk about a costume malfunction!

I still did my "very important" job and kept going, despite the fact half the time I couldn't see what was going on. I actually have pictures of myself in my "lion tamer" get-up but I have no idea where my mom put them. She won't let me make copies of my kiddie pictures to use in my scrapbooks for some reason.

It was just after I graduated kindergarten (only to repeat kindergarten in a Catholic School...the school tested me and was more than willing to put me in first grade but my mom insisted I repeat kindergarten...something about my social development...all I know was that I got to go to school with this kid who'd been my best friend in Pre-School) that I started dancing ballet. Maybe I got bitten by the whole wearing a costume bug when I was a little lion tamer in Pre-School. I don't really know...though I do still like to wear costumes and they're almost always too big on me. I guess some things never change.

Feeling Peevish...

I'm not known for my temper. I rarely get angry or, at least, angry enough to show it. I'm one of those people who internalizes their anger until it makes them sick. I don't like getting mad or being mad at people. It makes me feel incredibly guilty when I get mad at someone. So much so, that I actually have to apologize to the person, even if I've done nothing wrong to them.

I'm one of those people who chronically apologizes to other people. I may not have done anything wrong but I still apologize, figuring that a good apology will fix anything. Apparently it doesn't and it only annoys people when I apologize for seemingly no reason at all. I've tried explaining that I can't help myself but that doesn't seem to work either.

Anywho...despite the fact I don't really get angry, I do have pet peeves. I guess everyone does, really. Here are some of my biggest pet peeves, in no particular order. Let's just say that they all annoy me equally.

(1.) Lazy People- I CANNOT abide lazy people. I just absolutely cannot! If I'm going to work my rear end off to get something done, you'd better pull your weight and work your rear end off too.

(2.) People Who Shirk Their Responsibilities- This probably ties into the lazy people thing. I strongly dislike when people have responsibilities but feel the incredible need just to dump them on someone else or just not do something because they don't feel it's worth the time or the effort. It's especially annoying when it's adults shirking their responsibilities and they wind up getting shouldered by everyone else because they've thrown a hissy fit and don't want to do something. C'mon, seriously, act your age! Not your shoe size!

(3.) People Who Make Snap Judgements About Others- I've had this one happen to me quiet a bit so that's probably why it's one of my pet peeves. I don't like when people look at someone and decided that the person they're looking at is one stereotype or another. Everyone is an individual and not everyone fits into neat little categories. People are multifaceted; not one dimensional. Get to know a person before you decided if you like them or not. Just don't base it on how they look or act or appear. Like the saying goes "Looks can be deceiving."

(4.) When Things Aren't Neat- My sister always jokes that I have a very extreme case of OCD. Things have to be neat and ordered in order for me to be happy. I'm the type of person who has books in alphabetical, series, or numerical in the case of my manga order. I don't like clutter in corners of rooms or piles of clothing left on chairs or shoes left lying in the middle of the room (in my own defense, when it comes to the shoes, I invariably trip over them when they're left in the middle of the room). Problem is, I share a room with my sister who doesn't really abide by keeping things neat. Nope...she loves her messes and that drives me crazy!

(5.) Rudeness- I live in New York City and we're not exactly known for being the politest of people on the planet. I mean, being rude is sort of one of the traits of my fair city. Still, I make it a point to say "please" and "thank you" and "excuse me." I know other people don't do it but I try to be polite towards others. After all, people here in New York can be impolite and crass but then they go all ghetto on you if you don't act politely towards them. I don't exactly understand why that happens but it does. I guess some people demand respect without giving any respect back.

(6.) Being Shouted Out- This may be a strictly "me" thing or strictly a dancer thing. I'm not entirely sure. Anyway, whenever I dance with the group I dance with, people tend to "shout out" dancers (basically, they call out their names loud enough so the entire theater can hear it) while they're dancing. My mom always warns the people that come to watch me dance not to shout me out because it embarasses me to no bitter end. I mean, cool clap for me when I finish dancing--- especially my solo. Fishsticks! DO NOT shout me out while I'm doing my solo! ---but don't shout my name out so the whole theater can hear that I'm on stage. The only exception to this is at the end of the show. I don't know how she does it, really I don't, but my sister always manages to shout "SPANKY! I KNOW HER!" (My nickname being "Spanky") just as the studio owner is about to start talking again after giving me my perfect attendence award. It's the end of the night and I guess I'm just too darn tired by then to care.

(7.) Wigs and Hairpieces- This is another dancer one I suppose. I've been forced into wigs twice (short, red bob style wigs) and hairpieces (basically fake ponytails) more times than I'd like to count. The wigs, well, they cause this very...unsightly...problem. See, I have a waist length ponytail and, when you put it up in a bun, it makes for a really HUGE bun. When you put a wig on top of that, no matter how hard you try to make the bun flat, it still looks like I have a horrid growth coming out of the top of my head. Then there are hairpieces. They just make me wonder about the logic the people I dance with use. I already have a long ponytail so why in the world do I have to go out and BUY a fake long ponytail!

(8.) Being Sticky- This is probably one of my strangest pet peeves. I hate being sticky but not glue sticky. Fishsticks only knows, when I scrapbook I usually wind up with glue all over my finger tips, no matter how neat I try to be. It's more the kind of sticky that comes from touching things like syrup and honey (the two biggest offenders when it comes to this pet peeve). I can't tell you why being sticky urks me so much because I don't really know. It just sort of does for some strange reason. This is probably one of the biggest pet peeves that gets me laughed at when I'm at home.

(9.) Crowds- Not exactly sure if this counts as a pet peeve or just something I don't like. I have very little love for being in crowded places, malls, trains, tourist attractions. If there's a crowd involved, there a very good chance I'm someplace in it trying not to freak myself out. Crowds are the only things I can definitively say trigger my panic attacks. More than once, I've asked to leave stores because there are just too many people in the store and it was making me freak out. Usually my mother's good about it but sometimes she's not and I get told to "suck it up." Easier said than done!

(10.) Wearing Shoes in the House- Not so much for other people but for myself. The first thing I do when I get into the house is remove my shoes (and then put them away LOL). I feel like I trip over my own feet less when I'm not wearing shoess. It doesn't really make any sense but that's what I feel. Mind you, I still manage to trip over my own feet in my socks...and go sliding across floors...when I'm in my socks. Maybe it's just a mind over matter thing.

When in Time...

I've probably written this before but I play this game called "Fiesta." It's one of those MMORPGs (Massive Multiplayer Online Role Playing Games) like "World of Warcraft" except "Fiesta" is free. I mean they have a cash shop but you don't necessarily need to use the cash shop to play...unless you're into enhancing your items (which I'm not because I always break my items while enhancing them) or fighting PvP (player vs player) which I don't do.

My main character in the game is a, now, level 87 Tank Build, Sword Fighter (her official title is "Battle Warrior" in the game) named Maitreya. Why'd I pick a Fighter Class character instead of the more female acceptable Cleric class character? (Though, I do have a Cleric...she's level 30 and named JadeBlueAfterGlo.)

The answer to that question is very simple. I'm ABSOLUTELY fascinated by swords and sword fighting. I think swords are very elegant weapons and sword fighting is more a dance than an actual battle. You need some skill to use a sword instead of using a gun. To steal a quote from Obi-Wan Kenobi (from Star Wars Episode IV: A New Hope when talking about lightsabers as opposed to blasters) swords seem, to me anyway, "...an elegant weapon for a more civilized age."

That said, if I could live in any age, past or future, I'd love to live during the Italian Renaissance. All things considered equal, life wasn't perfect during that age. People still died young of diseases we can easily cure now. The rich still ruled over the poor. Most, if not all, governments were monarchies as opposed to democracies. Women had absolutely no rights to speak of and basically lived to either be used for political marriages or to have babies.

Still, it was a time when the arts and sciences flourished. People stole cadavers--- alright, not exactly the most honorable thing to do but it was in the name of science ---in order to study the inner workings of the human body. Everything we knew about science changed during that age, as the inner body was explored for the first time. Art became more realistic thanks to science and encompassed not only the traditional forms of art but invention as well.

Look at someone like Leonardo (insert Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles joke here) DaVinici who was not only an artist but a scientist, and inventor as well. Whether or not he hid messages in his works aside, the man was brilliant. Then again, he was as brilliant as any and every one of his peers during that time period.

I wouldn't mind being a Renaissance Man (Renaissance Woman? Renaissance Person?) during the Italian Renaissance. I mean, I would get to wear one of those a-fishsticking-mazing dresses like they do at Renaissance fairs and I'd get to play with cadavers and paint and do all sorts of amazing things because that's what a Renaissance person did. Since women weren't exactly allowed to be Reniassance people--- They were expected to be pretty, patronize the arts, and have babies ---I'd have to do it in secret but that's alright.

Why?

Because I'd also want to be a knight during this time period and women weren't knights either. Knights, after all, got to carry swords and joust and, generally, just have a grand old time. They weren't expected to sit and be there just for show like a woman was during this time period. They could be brave and fight for what they believed in. Not to keen on the armor but, hey, I'd need somehing to hide the fact I'm a female and armor really can't be any worse than the corsets the women wore during the Italian Reniassance. Take it from someone who's actually worn a corset (as part of two different ballet costumes)...those suckers HURT! I actually got bruises from wearing them in my ballet costumes thanks to the ribs in them.

I think the Italian Reniassiance, at it's peak, was a time of art and beauty and wonder where knights were still brave and people sill cared about what was written or what kind of music was being created. I'd love to wear my fancy dress during the day but go around as a brave, sword weilding knight (NOT in the outfit my "Fiesta" character wears...honestly, the male fighters get better armor LOL) robbing from the rich and giving to the poor or something equally awesome.

Before It's Too Late

I never saw the movie The Bucket List but I have a general idea about what the movie was about. It's about these two guys who are dying (of cancer I think) and they both have these lists of things they want to accomplish before they die. I guess that movie, or maybe the idea behind the movie or something, prompted people to start thinking about what they'd want to do before they died. I guess, maybe, I have a list like that too...just never wrote it down since I'm hoping I won't have to deal with the whole "kicking the bucket" thing for a long while so I can check off a good chunk of my list before that time comes.

Anyway, here are ten of the many things that are on my bucket list right now:

(1.) Get a job: I don't like not working, even though I know it's not my fault I can't get a job (it's the state's fault). I want to get a job because, well, working seems like fun. I know everyone says it's not but I think it could be...especially if it's in the field I want to work in. I mean, work isn't work when you think it's fun, right? Work only becomes work when you don't like doing it or so I've heard. I think that I'd actually enjoy working if it's in the field I want to work in. I mean, I was the crazy person in school who thought lab days were the best days of the week. Getting to play in a lab would be a joy!

(2.) Make Some Kind of Contribution: This sounds silly but I feel like I was put here to do something. I don't know why I think this. I just do. I know I'm supposed to do something while I'm here. It doesn't even have a to be a big thing. I'm not looking to make some earth shattering discovery or change the world in some drastic way. I mean, that would be nice but that's not necessarily what I'm here to do and I know that. I just know that I'm supposed to make some kind of contribution through the job I get. Maybe be part of a team that helps discover an antibody that helps in the treatment of some disorder or a faulty protein--- ergo a faulty gene ---that causes a certain disorder. I don't even have to be the lead person on the team...I just have to be part of the team. I know I'm here to do something like that...to make the world a better place, even if it's in the smallest way possible.

(3.) Have a Family of My Own: Yes, the scientist wants to get married and have kids. I like kids and I'm one of those people who won't do anything with another person until I'm married. But, yea, someday I'd like a family of my own. Not because I'm female and it's the thing all females are supposed to do. More like I think I'd just like to have more of a family than I do now.

(4.) Get Something I've Written Published: This is probably the most far fetched of all the ideas I have considering I don't really like showing people things I write and I don't think I'm all tat great of a write to begin with. I know I'm no JK Rowling or JRR Tolkien. I know I'm not Robin Cook or Timothy Zahn or Michael Crichton. I'm not even as good as Neil Gaimen or any other really famous author. I write these strange little stories that are usually science fiction or fantasy or that just seem to crawl out of the depths of my brain when I get really bored. I only write for fun and because it was what I did to pass the time between classes in college. Some people can draw really well, I figure that I draw pictures with words. Maybe they're not the greatest pictures but they're still pictures from my head. Someday I'd love to be able to share those pictures with the rest of the world but I'm not sure that'll ever feasibly happen, all things considered.

(5.) Go to Italy: My mom's side of the family is from Italy and I was, basically, raised by my mom and grandmother (my dad worked nights so he wasn't around during the night when I was home from school) so Iconsider myself more Italian than anything else. I know how to speak, read, and write the language, thanks to taking Italian for three years in high school. Arguably, my reading and writing are alot stronger than my speaking but that's not here nor there at the moment. I'd love to go to Italy for the culture and the sights and to test my grasp of the language. Not so much the food because I'm almost sure the Italian food I was raised on isn't the same as the actual stuff they eat in Italy. Well, the pastries may be an exception. My grandmother has this thing about finiding "authentic" Italian bakeries.

(6.) Go to Ireland: My dad's side of the family is from Ireland (Wexford I think) and I'd love to go there. Apperantly, there's a town that still bears my family's last name which is kinda neat. There's also a pub too but my sister wants to go there. She's all about going to Ireland and doing a pub crawl. I'm not much for drinking but I'd love to actually go into an Irish pub just to check the place off and take some pictures LOL! Ireland has lots of interesting mythology--- I love their faerie stories ---and lots of the stories feature places that actually exist. Maybe I could actually see a real faerie while I'm there! That and I could really use some of the magic of the Blarney Stone since I so don't have the gift of the gab. You want that...you should talk to my sister. She's more the Irish one than I am.

(7.) Go to Japan: Ok, show of hands, who didn't think something related to Japan was going to come up on this list? I'm an Otaku (a "fangirl" but I'm not like a crazy fangirl...I saw a few of them, though....went to New York Anime Fest a few weeks ago) and where else would an Otaku want to go but the home of anime and manga. Ok...it's not just the anime and manga (and the prospect of an entire area of a city where people cosplay--- costume play --- 24/7) that makes me want to go to land of the rising sun. There's so much interesting culture there. I mean, it was the land of the samurai! That's totally wicked cool!



(8.) Visit all of the Baseball Stadiums in the American and National League: I'm not even that big of a baseball fan but I still want to hit every American and National League ballpark here in the United States and the one stadium in Canada (Toronto). Catch is, I don't want to do it by flying from city to city. Nope...I want to do it road trip style. Like pack a rented RV and drive across country and up into Canada to get to every baseball stadium. The trip would be planned, of course, with a course for how and when we'd hit each stadium but I think it would be more fun to drive than to fly. It would probably be cheaper too. I also would love to follow the NY Mets schedule but they don't play all the American League teams each season. They only play one division and, of course, the Yankees but the Yankees don't count on this trip. I've already been to that sinkhole in the Bronx more than once. Well, the old Yankee Stadium anyway. I GUESS I'd have to go to their new stadium...even though Yankee fans are HORRID!



(9.) Get Rid of the Panic Attacks: Ok, this one is more of a short term goal but it's on the list anyway. I just want to be able to spend a single month straight without having one or two days without feeling the incredible need to jump out of my own skin. It's really annoying wondering when those days are going to show up and where it's going to happen. I don't mind if it happens at home since I'm home and it's not so embarassing. It's worse when it happens out in public. I know it's not true but I feel like everyone knows I'm freaking out.



(10.) Figure out the Meaning of Life: Other than the number 42 of course!

The Top Six Unforgettables

Alright...I'm twenty-six years old. In the span of things, I haven't lived a very long time. Considering the way I've been raised, I don't even think I'm qualified to make this kind of list. I don't have enough life experiences to say, for certain, that something in my life is going to become an unforgettable moment. What's unforgettable today, may pale in comparison to something that happens tomorrow after all. I have yet to have one of those big, life altering events really.

Anyway, and in no particular order, here are the top six (since I can't get to ten) unforgettable moments in my life (so far anyway):

(1) Graduating from College: Isn't that supposed to be a big deal, the whole graduating from college thing? I mean, that's what everyone said when I was graduating from college. Actually, I was kinda glad I was graduating. By the time I was a senior in college, I was so thoroughly annoyed with my classmates (there were eight of us in the science department at the college I went to...seven girls and one boy) that I would have given my left arm to get out of there. Everyone was all about the med school thing and they looked down on the fact I was doing the grad school thing.

(2.) Getting my Masters: This one isn't so much about ACTUALLY getting the piece of paper that said I got my Masters Degree. Nope...this is more about what happened for me to get my Masters Degree. See, in the school I went to, all graduate students had to pass this exam called the MCD (I still, to this day, have no idea what those initials stand for). The MCD was, basically, pure torture for anyone taking it. The school gave you 20-30 scientific journal articles--- My year lucked out. We only got 21. The year before us got 30. ---and you, basically, had to know them inside out, upside down, back to front. You had to be familiar with every procedure used in the article and why that procedure was used and what kinds of results it yielded. I studied from the end of March to June, when we took the exam, for this test. Passing for all Masters students was 65. When I finally got my grade from my advisor, I found out I'd scored something like an 85 and that I'd done better than almost all the PhD students! That sort of trumped me getting my Masters. Not only did I pass that exam--- which was six hours spread over two sessions on one day. It was so bad a few people had to get up and puke during the test ---but I totally OWNED that test!

(3.) Making the Twenty Year Mark at the Dance Studio: I've been dancing ballet for twenty-two years but making twenty years at the studio is a big deal. Most people kind of give up at around the seven or eight year mark. You make it to ten years of you're lucky. Me? I stuck around for twenty (well, twenty-two now) despite the fact the people at the studio drove me crazy for most of those twenty years. The year I got my twentieth year award, my mom had t-shirts made that said "Ashley's Twentieth Year" and everyone I knew wore them. One girl who was in my Daisy troop had a shirt too. She insisted that she get one even though my mom had only adult sizes because she knew me. The studio owner had to comment on what my mom had done before she gave me my award because a good part of the audience was wearing these white t-shirts my mom had made for the occasion. It was slightly embarrassing but it was still funny.

(4.) My Sort-of Bestie Moving Away: I have a grand total of one friend. We use to dance together and, when she quit the studio, we were Girl Scout leaders. We only saw each other on Fridays at Girl Scouts but we talked a lot online and stuff. She was sort of the big sister I didn't know I had...or ever wanted. Then she got married and moved to Florida. We don't talk as much now anymore and she doesn't come up to New York to visit all that often. We still text and e-mail from time to time but that's about it.

(5.) Discovering that the Grad School I went to Messed me Over: I graduated Grad School, thinking that it would be cake for me to get a job. Even though the economy isn't all that great research science isn't exactly a field everyone wants into. You have to have specialized training and degrees and all that good stuff. Still, I wasn't getting any jobs. When I finally got an interview, the very nice man told me that I was an excellent candidate for any job but, because I didn't have my New York State Clinical Lab Tech License, no one was going to be able to hire me. The state wouldn't allow it. When I tried to get help from my graduate school, they basically told me to go climb a tree and they weren't going to help me at all. I had to figure out how to get this license myself...which I finally did and now I'm studying for my exam (which I hope to take after Christmas because taking it before might be nuts).

(6.) The "Panic Attack" Adventure: Something I'm still on actually. Learning that I inherited a panic disorder from my dad wasn't something I expected. I never even knew panic attacks were genetic until I started getting them and my doctor put two and two together. I've been on this adventure with these panic attacks (and the medication that comes with them) for almost two years. I don't get attacks as often as I use to but my doctor says he won't take me off my medication--- my archnemesis because it messes with my balance and makes me fall more than I normally do ---until I get a job...which hinges on the license...which hinges on the exam. Ok, I can see why he still wants me on my meds!

Learning Valuable Lessons

I can't say I've met everyone on the planet because that would be a lie. I can't say I've met even half the people on the planet because that would be a lie too. I've met maybe a fraction of a fraction of a fraction of the people in the world...maybe even less than that. I've only met a small portion of the people in the world and I think I've gained something from each and every one of them.

Then again, I think you can gain something, learn something from every person you've ever met. No matter how small, how insignificant, or how terrible the lesson is, you've learned something from that person. You may have felt as if you lost something in dealing with a person but you've actually gained something. You may not know it at the time because you're feeling down or hurt, because it's entirely too painful to see beyond the moment you're in. You wind up with eyes blinded by pain but, when the fog clears, you realize that you've gained more than you've lost. You've gained knowledge and knowledge is something no one can take away from you, making it one of the most important things you can gain from dealing with other people.

I've learned things--- I won't say a lot of things because my dealings with people has been very limited ---from others and lost things because of others but I've gained knowledge from both kinds of experiences. That's just the way of things in the universe I suppose.

Anyway, outside my family, I think the one person I've gained the most from is my ballet/jazz/modern/solo class dance instructor. I'll keep him nameless but I've definetly learned a lot from him and not just about dancing (though I've learned a great deal about dancing from him. He's the only instructor I've ever had who drives me utterly crazy but makes me want to go back to his classes week after week to prove that I can do the coreography he threw at me) but about life, the universe, and everything. He's not the type of dance teacher who just teaches dance. Between bouts of impossibly long coreography, there are life lessons to be learned in his class.

Since he teaches my solo class, sometimes we don't even dance at all. Sometimes we just sit and talk. He gives some of the best advice about just about everything. The best part about his advice is that it's never sugar coated. He's brutally honest about everything and, sometimes, that's what you need. You need someone's brutally honest opinion or advice about a subject to put things in perspective.

I think I've gained more than just dance knowledge in class with this instructor. I've learned about myself--- and how to push past the limits I have ---and about how to deal with other people. I've learned that I have to be more self-confidant and self-assured because I can't be shy all the time. I've learned that it's not always about being in the spotlight but about how good you are with the skills you have. I've gained the knowledge that dance isn't just doing steps to music...it's telling a story without ever saying a word. I've learned how to put more of myself in my dancing instead of just doing steps because that's what I'm supposed to do.

Most of all, I've learned that dancers aren't always stupid. Dancers can be smart too....most of them anyway (but that's a whole OTHER story).

To the Past Me

(The picture...that's me at 16 in ballet. We were doing Beethoven's Symph No. 9- "Ode to Joy")

Dear Ashley (circa 1999),

It seems like something out of one of those Star Wars novels you're currently obsessed with reading, to get a letter from your future self but you're getting one. Think of it as a weird version of a Jedi Holocron, except this one is from the future and not the past and it probably won't melt after all the information's been given. By the way, in ten years, you're going to be a bigger science fiction fan than you are now. Sorry about that!

So, you're sixteen years old, a Sophomore at St. John's Prep. Life seems good even though Danny is still around making a pest of himself and you're working your tail off in all the honor classes at SJP. I mean, you're not the most popular kid but you have your friends from your classes and Tae Kwan Do. Things are going pretty well, much to your surprise.

I'm sorry but this is going to be one of the few times in your life you're truly going to get to be happy. I'm not saying the ten years between then and now are going to be utterly miserable--- there are always going to be bright spots ---but they're not going to be easy and they're not always going to be fun. You're going to learn that your world isn't really your world anymore and there's very little you're going to be able to do to stop it.

Your life will no longer be your own starting in the fall, when our dear sister starts high school. It'll start out as you only "helping" her with her work but, by the time you start Marymount Manhattan College and she's still a Junior at SJP, you won't be "helping" anymore. You'll actually be doing her homework. She'll be more concerned with her social life and someone is going to have to pick up the slack. That someone is going to be you and your own social life will suffer for it. I'm not saying Marymount is the place where you're going to find your true love--- even now, you don't believe in true love and are wondering about that topic ---but the only socializing you're going to have time for is at the dance studio and at Girl Scouts. The rest of the time you're going to be spending trying to balance your own work and our sister's work.

You're not going to like it after a while, especially when you get to Graduate School, and you're going to voice your opinion about not liking it but they're not going to listen. They're never going to listen to you because you're not our sister. You're going to think they all think you're weird and you're crazy but they're wrong. You know they're wrong and there are, maybe, a handful of people in the world that know they're wrong. That's where you're going to find your strength...in yourself, even if you think you're weak and on the verge of falling apart, and in the few people in the world who aren't under our sister's spell.

Keep taking solace in your dancing because, despite the fact the people at the studio make you crazy, that's going to become one of the best places for you. The friendship you finally manage to forge with that ever so difficult ballet, jazz, modern (yes, you start taking modern...deal with it), and solo instructor is going to be invaluable to you. He's going to be the reason you stay at the studio and one of the few people there you're going to be able to trust. By the way, you won't be a back/middle line dancer forever. Give it a few years--- and A LOT of busting of the rear end, literally sometimes ---and you'll get to dance in the front line even though you're not a teacher.

You're going to rediscover you love to write soon too and that's going to become another place for you to find strength. Everything you feel about yourself and our family is going to go into your stories and it'll help you figure things out. Sometimes you're just going to find it easier to write things down and look at the world through the eyes of the characters you've created. Though you're going to adamently deny it, you're going to put a lot of yourself in what you write. Maybe not the initial stuff because it's going to be pretty rough--- don't knock yourself around too hard about it, you haven't written in years because you've been afraid to ---but a lot of the later stuff is going to have you in it. Just go with it...I promise it'll help more than the therapist you're going to have to see.

Just keep telling yourself that you're stronger than you actually are and that you're weird too. Not weird in a bad way but weird in a "I'm just being myself" sort of way. It may not make you popular or anything like that but you'll be true to yourself. The faster you learn that, the better, because you're going to be faced with people who are going to make you question yourself. They're going to make you wonder if what you're doing is the right thing. Follow your brain and be logical about what you're doing and you won't be steered wrong.

It'll take time and effort to get things straight but that's one thing you've always been good at. This is just going to be the ultimate test for you...I hope anyway,
Ashley (circa 2009)