It seems that I DO have a super-power.
Turns out that yes, I am super-girl and my super-power is that I can wheeze at will. SuperGirl! Fighting the forces of evil… and for her breath since 1986. Yay me. Applications for seedy sidekicks are now available. The line forms to my left. No pushing.
But really, I can. This one time, I was watching America's Sweethearts and there's this one scene where John Cusack runs up this pretty steep-ish hill-like thingie, and he was NOT at all winded by all that activity. I was so surprised and awed, that in the ultimate psychosomatic turn of events, I got out of breath instead. (I only just realized that they could have been two separate scenes filmed at two completely different times. Hmph.) Or more recently, I was talking to boss the other day, while climbing up a very short flight of stairs, and suddenly I thought ,"Wait. Some people would get tired walking up these steps, right?"... and consequently lost my breath. Huh.
Fitness has always been a sore point with me. Really. I even injured my humerus. It's not funny. I've tried just about every possible method short of surgery to help me lose weight. (For those of you I haven't met, or those I HAVE met but are living under a certain rock, I must admit, I am a tad erm…'rubenesque'.) I've tried everything from the no-carb diet to the no-dinner diet, from swimming to jive lessons (For those who care, two left feet baby!) One time, I even considered eating all my food with chopsticks! Yup, when it comes to weight loss schemes, I've been there, done that... for a couple of days at least. The Lord may giveth, but sometimes the 'taketh away' bit ain't half bad either.
So I'm starting a new fitness thingamajig tomorrow. Hopefully, I'll actually stick with it... for more than 3 days this time. But I shall persevere! I shall overcome! Like that charismatic, young leader often says, 'Yes, we can!' Obama says it too. I wonder if Bob the builder was his campaign speech writer. Or maybe, they're both the same person! Think about it, we've never seen them both together at the same time, have we? Cue Twilight Zone theme music and Voice-over: Picture this, if you will....
Doom doom doooom.
Wednesday, March 18, 2009
Friday, February 27, 2009
My Random Randomness
I have a sports related injury. Playing Foozball. I just bruised my thumb but I feel very cool because this is my first ever sports related injury. No wait… Second. The first was when I broke my ankle playing basketball. Shivonne pushed me against the wall and I ahem ‘fell on my ankle’. We’re vicious when we play sports, which is why we don’t play. Well, that and because we tank at sports.
So Feb was not a good month for me, creatively at least. I wrote two of the worst poems ever written. Ever. Britney Spears ain’t got nothing on me.
I was tagged on Facebook (I like it coz it’s pretty. Don’t judge me! I’m shallow. Get over yourself already!) Yes, the tagging. So the point is that you have to write 25 absolutely random things about yourself. And send it to whomever. And the madness continues. It’s fun. And because my creativity is on a very long, unscheduled vacation, this is what I’m gonna write about.
So my dear readers, consider yourself tagged.
Facebook buddies! Fear not! This list is not the same as the list on Facebook. Well… not COMPLETELY. For one thing, I’m only writing 20. And some are totally new, because:
1. Yes, I am that self-absorbed.
So here’s my 20 randoms. Drum roll please.
1. I don’t know what kinda music I like. One day it’s jazz and the next day I’m drooling over Jimi Hendrix. All I know is that I hate polka.
2. I trip all over the place even when I’m barefoot. Actually, especially when I’m barefoot.
3. I have two signatures. One for bank stuff and one for when I become famous. They’re both hideous.
4. I write lists for everything. My excitement over anything is directly proportional to the number of lists I make for that ‘event’.
5. I have started going to the baby Sabbath school because – a. The kids are freakishly adorable. b. The Sabbath school teacher gives us treats. Woohoo!
6. I get very annoyed by T.V. shows like Family Guy and The Nanny. But I watch them anyway.
7. I wanna be a rockstar. My stage fright and the fact that I can’t play a single instrument are just minor trivialities.
8. I have two settings. Lazy and not. ‘Not’ is when I’m nice to people.
9. I want to throw Mika, Enrique Iglesias, James Blunt, and the Scissor Sisters into a bottomless, sound-proof pit.
10. My sisters are the most important people in my life.
11. I had a phase where I’d only wear men’s shirts, jeans and bandanas. I call it my Rosie O’Donnell years.
12. I don’t like wearing baseball caps because it makes me look like Wayne from Wayne’s world. No, I am not worthy.
13. When I was 5, Shivonne gave me a sandwich filled with actual sand. It turned me off bread and jam for years.
14. I hate Scooby Doo. I hate Scrappy Doo even more. I love the Powerpuff girls. Go figure.
15. I never judge a book by its cover. Just by its opening line.
16. I can never remember if I liked a particular song or not. So I ask Shivonne.
17. I think that bookstores are the most magical places on earth.
18. I love camping. In the living room. With tents made out of bed-linen.
19. I get annoyed really easy. But I rarely actually lose my temper.
20. I’m petrified of any kind of worm. So much that I’ve stopped watching Animal Planet.
Tada! Now you’re it. Happy 20/25 random-ing y’all!
So Feb was not a good month for me, creatively at least. I wrote two of the worst poems ever written. Ever. Britney Spears ain’t got nothing on me.
I was tagged on Facebook (I like it coz it’s pretty. Don’t judge me! I’m shallow. Get over yourself already!) Yes, the tagging. So the point is that you have to write 25 absolutely random things about yourself. And send it to whomever. And the madness continues. It’s fun. And because my creativity is on a very long, unscheduled vacation, this is what I’m gonna write about.
So my dear readers, consider yourself tagged.
Facebook buddies! Fear not! This list is not the same as the list on Facebook. Well… not COMPLETELY. For one thing, I’m only writing 20. And some are totally new, because:
1. Yes, I am that self-absorbed.
So here’s my 20 randoms. Drum roll please.
1. I don’t know what kinda music I like. One day it’s jazz and the next day I’m drooling over Jimi Hendrix. All I know is that I hate polka.
2. I trip all over the place even when I’m barefoot. Actually, especially when I’m barefoot.
3. I have two signatures. One for bank stuff and one for when I become famous. They’re both hideous.
4. I write lists for everything. My excitement over anything is directly proportional to the number of lists I make for that ‘event’.
5. I have started going to the baby Sabbath school because – a. The kids are freakishly adorable. b. The Sabbath school teacher gives us treats. Woohoo!
6. I get very annoyed by T.V. shows like Family Guy and The Nanny. But I watch them anyway.
7. I wanna be a rockstar. My stage fright and the fact that I can’t play a single instrument are just minor trivialities.
8. I have two settings. Lazy and not. ‘Not’ is when I’m nice to people.
9. I want to throw Mika, Enrique Iglesias, James Blunt, and the Scissor Sisters into a bottomless, sound-proof pit.
10. My sisters are the most important people in my life.
11. I had a phase where I’d only wear men’s shirts, jeans and bandanas. I call it my Rosie O’Donnell years.
12. I don’t like wearing baseball caps because it makes me look like Wayne from Wayne’s world. No, I am not worthy.
13. When I was 5, Shivonne gave me a sandwich filled with actual sand. It turned me off bread and jam for years.
14. I hate Scooby Doo. I hate Scrappy Doo even more. I love the Powerpuff girls. Go figure.
15. I never judge a book by its cover. Just by its opening line.
16. I can never remember if I liked a particular song or not. So I ask Shivonne.
17. I think that bookstores are the most magical places on earth.
18. I love camping. In the living room. With tents made out of bed-linen.
19. I get annoyed really easy. But I rarely actually lose my temper.
20. I’m petrified of any kind of worm. So much that I’ve stopped watching Animal Planet.
Tada! Now you’re it. Happy 20/25 random-ing y’all!
Friday, January 9, 2009
The New Year - Tis The Season To Speak Falsely, Falalalalalalalala
31st Dec, 2008
Sheryll’s New Year Resolutions
1. Start going to the gym
2. Cut down on sugar.
3. Plan for future.
4. Write more
5. Minimize food spillage
6. Believe in the wonderful things that life has to offer. Life is good. Everything’s going to be great.
9th January, 2009
Life’s bitch and then you die.
Well, so much for Resolution #6. Let’s see how I fared with the others, shall we?
1.Start going to the gym
I went, I saw, I left. The End.
2.Cut down on sugar
This one actually worked out for a few days. And then my colleague comes back from vacation and brings with her this insane Telugu sweet thing called Pootharekulu. No I don’t know what that means. What I DO know is that it’s starch and sugar. Literally. Dried sheets of kanji-like thingums filled with a mixture of powdered sugar and a liquid-y thing I suspect is ghee. It’s so insanely sweet, Willy Wonka would think it’s a bit much. It’s disgusting and I love it. Maybe it’s brings back memories of my childhood (Stealing munchies from the neighbors upstairs. What can I say? I started young), or maybe I just have a death wish. Either way, I fell off the wagon. All the bouncing and ‘amItalkingtoofast?AmI?AmI?’ that happened afterwards was just the sugar talking. I swear.
3.Plan for the future.
Oh I have this one down. First I gotta go to the pet store and buy a dozen cats which I will name Jefferson, Mr. Tibbles, and so on. Then off to Commercial Street and buy me some kitty cat motif dishes and about three thousand lace doilies. Give it a few years and my future as crazy cat lady is set.
4. Write more.
What? No?? Really? OK.
Hmph.
5. Minimize food spillage
‘She failed miserably’, said the mountain of rice dropped unceremoniously on the kitchen counter.
Sigh.
On the plus side, Christmas ’08 was wonderful. It’s been 8 years since we last celebrated it as a family, so this time we really went all out. The tree! The decorations! The food! The gifts! And of course, the inevitable drama over scented body lotion (You know who you are!! Stealer of gift meant for Sheryll!). Where was I? Oh yes, Christmas parties with silly games like hip charades (You try spelling out ‘sweet’ with your hips), french charades and ‘meow’. Actually, I was introduced to meow a year ago and I’m still reeling under its mushroom cloud-like aftermath.
Most thrillingly, we won the coveted ‘Best AY team’ prize. To all those who helped –THANKS!! Big shout-out to Willie, Rohit P. and my baby sister Shivonne (OK! So she’s 20. Sue me.)
Happy New Year y’all. And may the force be with you.
Sheryll’s New Year Resolutions
1. Start going to the gym
2. Cut down on sugar.
3. Plan for future.
4. Write more
5. Minimize food spillage
6. Believe in the wonderful things that life has to offer. Life is good. Everything’s going to be great.
9th January, 2009
Life’s bitch and then you die.
Well, so much for Resolution #6. Let’s see how I fared with the others, shall we?
1.Start going to the gym
I went, I saw, I left. The End.
2.Cut down on sugar
This one actually worked out for a few days. And then my colleague comes back from vacation and brings with her this insane Telugu sweet thing called Pootharekulu. No I don’t know what that means. What I DO know is that it’s starch and sugar. Literally. Dried sheets of kanji-like thingums filled with a mixture of powdered sugar and a liquid-y thing I suspect is ghee. It’s so insanely sweet, Willy Wonka would think it’s a bit much. It’s disgusting and I love it. Maybe it’s brings back memories of my childhood (Stealing munchies from the neighbors upstairs. What can I say? I started young), or maybe I just have a death wish. Either way, I fell off the wagon. All the bouncing and ‘amItalkingtoofast?AmI?AmI?’ that happened afterwards was just the sugar talking. I swear.
3.Plan for the future.
Oh I have this one down. First I gotta go to the pet store and buy a dozen cats which I will name Jefferson, Mr. Tibbles, and so on. Then off to Commercial Street and buy me some kitty cat motif dishes and about three thousand lace doilies. Give it a few years and my future as crazy cat lady is set.
4. Write more.
An Ode to Porridge
Porridge, you taste like milk and grit,
Fueling my flair for the dramatic.
Why Goldilocks broke into a house for it,
Seems to be a bit masochistic.
Porridge, you taste like milk and grit,
Fueling my flair for the dramatic.
Why Goldilocks broke into a house for it,
Seems to be a bit masochistic.
What? No?? Really? OK.
Hmph.
5. Minimize food spillage
‘She failed miserably’, said the mountain of rice dropped unceremoniously on the kitchen counter.
Sigh.
On the plus side, Christmas ’08 was wonderful. It’s been 8 years since we last celebrated it as a family, so this time we really went all out. The tree! The decorations! The food! The gifts! And of course, the inevitable drama over scented body lotion (You know who you are!! Stealer of gift meant for Sheryll!). Where was I? Oh yes, Christmas parties with silly games like hip charades (You try spelling out ‘sweet’ with your hips), french charades and ‘meow’. Actually, I was introduced to meow a year ago and I’m still reeling under its mushroom cloud-like aftermath.
Most thrillingly, we won the coveted ‘Best AY team’ prize. To all those who helped –THANKS!! Big shout-out to Willie, Rohit P. and my baby sister Shivonne (OK! So she’s 20. Sue me.)
Happy New Year y’all. And may the force be with you.
Wednesday, December 17, 2008
Queen, Drama
Life’s all about control and I’ve got very little of it. I cry easily, and laugh just as quick. I lose my temper in ahem… the twinkling of an eye, and more often than not, I'll have a snappy response to just about anything you have to say. You could say I’m fiery, but I’m not really all that hot.
I have an evil alien living in my larynx. I call it Bob. It likes to rear its ugly head during intense and stressful moments in my life. Like job interviews. Especially job interviews. I remember this one time, when I was in my third year of college; I had this interview with this one company. The HR person asked me what I would do to improve the human brain. My oh-so-smart answer was *Drum rolls* - A lobotomy.
I blame Bob.
But think about it. Sometimes a lobotomy would be good. Not the scary, creepy ones they force on unsuspecting people in Sidney Sheldon books and old Hollywood movies from the 60’s of course. But what if we could magically eliminate all negative thought? (Ok... MOST. We don’t want turn into Stepford wives.) I can’t help but wonder how far we can go once we let go of all the fears, doubts and insecurities that we KNOW are holding us back. It’s easier said than done obviously, just like all the other things we should be doing.
I got baptized two weeks ago, which to an Adventist is a pretty big deal. And I, in true drama queen/worrywart fashion, spent the week before that living in total terror. I was petrified about, of all things, the pastor losing his grip and dropping me into the water (as opposed to well… not). After all, there’s only so much a man can take, right? Well he didn’t drop me. Woohoo. Wait, actually, I did fall… but that was much, much later and thankfully, it was OUT of the baptismal tank. It was still in front of a pretty sizable crowd though.
Oh well. You win some, you lose some.
I have an evil alien living in my larynx. I call it Bob. It likes to rear its ugly head during intense and stressful moments in my life. Like job interviews. Especially job interviews. I remember this one time, when I was in my third year of college; I had this interview with this one company. The HR person asked me what I would do to improve the human brain. My oh-so-smart answer was *Drum rolls* - A lobotomy.
I blame Bob.
But think about it. Sometimes a lobotomy would be good. Not the scary, creepy ones they force on unsuspecting people in Sidney Sheldon books and old Hollywood movies from the 60’s of course. But what if we could magically eliminate all negative thought? (Ok... MOST. We don’t want turn into Stepford wives.) I can’t help but wonder how far we can go once we let go of all the fears, doubts and insecurities that we KNOW are holding us back. It’s easier said than done obviously, just like all the other things we should be doing.
I got baptized two weeks ago, which to an Adventist is a pretty big deal. And I, in true drama queen/worrywart fashion, spent the week before that living in total terror. I was petrified about, of all things, the pastor losing his grip and dropping me into the water (as opposed to well… not). After all, there’s only so much a man can take, right? Well he didn’t drop me. Woohoo. Wait, actually, I did fall… but that was much, much later and thankfully, it was OUT of the baptismal tank. It was still in front of a pretty sizable crowd though.
Oh well. You win some, you lose some.
Friday, November 14, 2008
When Hips Do Lie
The family has served me with one of them cease-and-desist thingums. It’s from my secret stash of potato chips. Now I have a restraining order against my crunchy-munchies. As queen of the snackers, I can only cry, ‘TREASON!!’
Whatever.
My mom has a very scientific approach to dieting. She says, ‘Eat whatever you want. Just eat half the quantity. See? Basic Math.” So let’s see. Half the quantity would mean that I’m twice as hungry and therefore TWICE as cranky. Now that’s some freaky-deeky math you do NOT want to get involved with.
So my fitness regime is gonna start like all the others – carefully choreographed to ‘Eye of the Tiger’. I expect to see drastic results in about 20 to 40 frames. What?? You mean life’s NOT like in the movies??
No shit.
Whatever.
My mom has a very scientific approach to dieting. She says, ‘Eat whatever you want. Just eat half the quantity. See? Basic Math.” So let’s see. Half the quantity would mean that I’m twice as hungry and therefore TWICE as cranky. Now that’s some freaky-deeky math you do NOT want to get involved with.
So my fitness regime is gonna start like all the others – carefully choreographed to ‘Eye of the Tiger’. I expect to see drastic results in about 20 to 40 frames. What?? You mean life’s NOT like in the movies??
No shit.
Tuesday, October 14, 2008
The Good, The Bad, The Blah.
So yesterday, my dad threw an orange at me. In a totally playful, sporty, non-child abuse kinda way. Unfortunately, I 'flinched' instead of 'caught'. I've never seen my dad look so disappointed in me ever.
Disappointing mumsy and pops? Not my favorite thing. However there are things I do like. So I present to you,
'Sheryll's Sporadically Announced List of Thingums in No Particular Order of Preference'
The Good - Things I do like:
*Strawberry and Cream Alphenlibe lollipops.
You don't have to spell it right to enjoy it.
*People-watching
Not judge. Watch. OK.. sometimes judge.. but mostly watch. OK FINE! Always judge. Happy now?
*The smell of new Bata chappals.
I once bought a pair... not to wear. Just coz they smelled nice. True story.
*Watching small children crying on their way to the school bus in the morning.
HA ha. I like to point and laugh. Poor kiddos. What a life! Waking up at 6 in the morning to catch a bus to go to a place that demands so much dedication and effort. (The fact that I noticed all this from my cab that picks me up at 7:30 every morning to take me to work, only just occurred to me. Thanks a lot.)
*The feel of crisp, clean bedsheets.
Mmmm. Ain't nothing better than that.
*Curling up with a really good book.
Rainy day, comfy chair/bed, hot hot Kapi, and of course, the all-important awesome book. Nice. Haven't come across enough of those tho.. (the awesome books I mean) Recommendations would be welcome.
*Shoes.
Sheryll like pretty shoes. One day the shoe-makers of the world will realise that not every one has size 3 feet and that day, Sheryll will... Well, first stop talkin in the third person.
*The scent of my elder sister's old clothes.
It always smells warm and comfy and clean. Three of my favourite things.
The Bad - Things I don't:
*Waking up early in the morning.
I will not be human till 10. Don't try to make any intelligent conversation with me till then. If you do, you will be rewarded with.. nothing. Just Don't Do It.
*Watching TV with the parents.
What is with TV nowadays?? I was watching Saturday Night Live the other night and my dad plopped on the couch for some father-daughter-TV-watching time. (Well, actually my dad wanted to steal the remote and change to some annoying sports channel. Clever person that I am, I sat on the remote instead. Lala.
Current State of Remote Control: It don't move no more.)
Anyways, so I was watching tv with the padre, when suddenly the folks on SNL decide to do a spoof on.. wait for it.. Basic Instinct. Guess which scene was the erm... focal point? I wanted to die.
The next day, I was watching Private Practice with my dad (Smart I know.). And Tada! The show was about a 13 year-old kid who has gonorrhea.
My curfew is now 4:30 in the afternoon. Hmph.
*Walking outside during/after it rains.
I dont care how 'romantic' people say it is. It's mucky, yucky, and gross. Wake me up when the monsoon ends.
*UB40
Make them stop.
The Blah- Things that don't really bother me, but I can live without:
*My co-workers and a certain someone nick-named 'Stewie'.
So my friends at work have been teasing me with the afore-mentioned person... and they aren't subtle about it. Now this person actually thinks I like him, and has developed an attitude overnight. How do I tell this person, that the only reason we call him Stewie is coz he looks (unfortunately) like the evil, matricidal baby from Family Guy? And that the only reason they tease me with him, is because I said it first? How? How? Life is so difficult for us pretty folks. (Snort hehe.. must keep straight face. )
*Vegetables.
Barf.
Enough said.
Disappointing mumsy and pops? Not my favorite thing. However there are things I do like. So I present to you,
'Sheryll's Sporadically Announced List of Thingums in No Particular Order of Preference'
The Good - Things I do like:
*Strawberry and Cream Alphenlibe lollipops.
You don't have to spell it right to enjoy it.
*People-watching
Not judge. Watch. OK.. sometimes judge.. but mostly watch. OK FINE! Always judge. Happy now?
*The smell of new Bata chappals.
I once bought a pair... not to wear. Just coz they smelled nice. True story.
*Watching small children crying on their way to the school bus in the morning.
HA ha. I like to point and laugh. Poor kiddos. What a life! Waking up at 6 in the morning to catch a bus to go to a place that demands so much dedication and effort. (The fact that I noticed all this from my cab that picks me up at 7:30 every morning to take me to work, only just occurred to me. Thanks a lot.)
*The feel of crisp, clean bedsheets.
Mmmm. Ain't nothing better than that.
*Curling up with a really good book.
Rainy day, comfy chair/bed, hot hot Kapi, and of course, the all-important awesome book. Nice. Haven't come across enough of those tho.. (the awesome books I mean) Recommendations would be welcome.
*Shoes.
Sheryll like pretty shoes. One day the shoe-makers of the world will realise that not every one has size 3 feet and that day, Sheryll will... Well, first stop talkin in the third person.
*The scent of my elder sister's old clothes.
It always smells warm and comfy and clean. Three of my favourite things.
The Bad - Things I don't:
*Waking up early in the morning.
I will not be human till 10. Don't try to make any intelligent conversation with me till then. If you do, you will be rewarded with.. nothing. Just Don't Do It.
*Watching TV with the parents.
What is with TV nowadays?? I was watching Saturday Night Live the other night and my dad plopped on the couch for some father-daughter-TV-watching time. (Well, actually my dad wanted to steal the remote and change to some annoying sports channel. Clever person that I am, I sat on the remote instead. Lala.
Current State of Remote Control: It don't move no more.)
Anyways, so I was watching tv with the padre, when suddenly the folks on SNL decide to do a spoof on.. wait for it.. Basic Instinct. Guess which scene was the erm... focal point? I wanted to die.
The next day, I was watching Private Practice with my dad (Smart I know.). And Tada! The show was about a 13 year-old kid who has gonorrhea.
My curfew is now 4:30 in the afternoon. Hmph.
*Walking outside during/after it rains.
I dont care how 'romantic' people say it is. It's mucky, yucky, and gross. Wake me up when the monsoon ends.
*UB40
Make them stop.
The Blah- Things that don't really bother me, but I can live without:
*My co-workers and a certain someone nick-named 'Stewie'.
So my friends at work have been teasing me with the afore-mentioned person... and they aren't subtle about it. Now this person actually thinks I like him, and has developed an attitude overnight. How do I tell this person, that the only reason we call him Stewie is coz he looks (unfortunately) like the evil, matricidal baby from Family Guy? And that the only reason they tease me with him, is because I said it first? How? How? Life is so difficult for us pretty folks. (Snort hehe.. must keep straight face. )
*Vegetables.
Barf.
Enough said.
Wednesday, September 24, 2008
Fear Factor
I wanna be a rock star.
I do. Really. I can totally imagine myself rocking on stage with this insanely awesome outfit which would be kinda Gwen Stefani-meets-Joan-Jetts-without-any-of-the-Olivia Newton John. I've already got the diva-like attitude down so I'm very capable of throwing a hissy fit over my non-4000 thread count bedsheets and insisting on only red M 'n' Ms and seedless grapes in my dressing room.
The only thing I cannot imagine, is the singing.
It's not like I'm bad at singing. I'm pretty good actually. I can do the crazy trills and stuff, and I KNOW I'm sing better than of the Spice Girls, but then again.. that isn't that high a standard to live up to. I just have a teeensy weensy bit of problem with my pitch. Shivonne put it more erm.. succinctly. She said, "Sheryll. Your pitches are bitches." (I have such an encouraging family. Joy.)
Well, there's that, and the fact that I CANNOT sing on stage.
I can stand alone, on stage, in front of thousands of people, and talk about God knows what, for God knows how long. And I have. I can have a ridiculous role in a skit and act in front of any number of people and not get well, too nervous. Been there, done that too. But sing? No. I just can't.
I've been terrified of things most people don't give a rat's furry bottom for. For example, 12th grade sports day. Being student body president, I had to give the opening speech in front of a huge crowd. I also had to lead the march past. No prizes for guessing what scared me more. I was petrified of MARCHING. Marching! It's just walking! But easier! Still.
Fear's a funny thing. People are afraid of everything from things that go bump in the night, to I don't know, cheese. But the scariest thing for me is to just exist. Not live. Exist. If, like Shakespeare said, all the world's a stage and all people it's players, it would be just awful if my only part was as the tree in Act II, Scene 4. Easily replaced by Styrofoam and cardboard cut-outs.
What if no one missed you when you're not there? What if no one even REALIZED that you were missing? My best friend in my first semester of college was a great deal more popular than I was, so therefore, I spent a lot of time feeling like an extra. A prop that eats, if you will. And that wasn't an overly pleasant time for me, I'll tell you that. I haven't learned much from that experience, except that it sucks to be invisible.
Well, I'm not invisible now. At least I think I'm not. Which truthfully, is all that's necessary. I know that if people have trouble 'seeing' you, it's just that their eyesight wasn't all that great to begin with. End of story.
P.S. I just got my salary. Now it doesn't matter even if I were invisible. I'm invisible, but with money. And that's good enough for me. Woohoo!!!
I do. Really. I can totally imagine myself rocking on stage with this insanely awesome outfit which would be kinda Gwen Stefani-meets-Joan-Jetts-without-any-of-the-Olivia Newton John. I've already got the diva-like attitude down so I'm very capable of throwing a hissy fit over my non-4000 thread count bedsheets and insisting on only red M 'n' Ms and seedless grapes in my dressing room.
The only thing I cannot imagine, is the singing.
It's not like I'm bad at singing. I'm pretty good actually. I can do the crazy trills and stuff, and I KNOW I'm sing better than of the Spice Girls, but then again.. that isn't that high a standard to live up to. I just have a teeensy weensy bit of problem with my pitch. Shivonne put it more erm.. succinctly. She said, "Sheryll. Your pitches are bitches." (I have such an encouraging family. Joy.)
Well, there's that, and the fact that I CANNOT sing on stage.
I can stand alone, on stage, in front of thousands of people, and talk about God knows what, for God knows how long. And I have. I can have a ridiculous role in a skit and act in front of any number of people and not get well, too nervous. Been there, done that too. But sing? No. I just can't.
I've been terrified of things most people don't give a rat's furry bottom for. For example, 12th grade sports day. Being student body president, I had to give the opening speech in front of a huge crowd. I also had to lead the march past. No prizes for guessing what scared me more. I was petrified of MARCHING. Marching! It's just walking! But easier! Still.
Fear's a funny thing. People are afraid of everything from things that go bump in the night, to I don't know, cheese. But the scariest thing for me is to just exist. Not live. Exist. If, like Shakespeare said, all the world's a stage and all people it's players, it would be just awful if my only part was as the tree in Act II, Scene 4. Easily replaced by Styrofoam and cardboard cut-outs.
What if no one missed you when you're not there? What if no one even REALIZED that you were missing? My best friend in my first semester of college was a great deal more popular than I was, so therefore, I spent a lot of time feeling like an extra. A prop that eats, if you will. And that wasn't an overly pleasant time for me, I'll tell you that. I haven't learned much from that experience, except that it sucks to be invisible.
Well, I'm not invisible now. At least I think I'm not. Which truthfully, is all that's necessary. I know that if people have trouble 'seeing' you, it's just that their eyesight wasn't all that great to begin with. End of story.
P.S. I just got my salary. Now it doesn't matter even if I were invisible. I'm invisible, but with money. And that's good enough for me. Woohoo!!!
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