Au Revoir Ma Cherie

I leave tomorrow morning for Birmingham. I'm bringing my laptop so, I should have readily available access to blogging fun. I'll try my best to write down interesting life as it happens...even though I don't think anyone reads this. Nevertheless, for my personal benefit when I am old and grey, I will write down interesting life happenings.

I have two rather large suitcases, but, both only weigh in at 40 pounds so, I'm good. hehe. It blows my mind how people don't bring that much luggage, or smaller bags...I mean, how do they fit all their stuff?? I have one suitcase with clothes in it, and I tried my best to utilize space as well as I could...you know, the whole rolling of clothing articles into compact pieces. And my other suitcase is all the random stuff like towels, iron, blanket, sheets, pillow, etc. and it is all stuffed in there! I mean, doesn't everyone have to bring that stuff? I remember last year I felt like I overpacked, but, in the first week I'd basically run out of shirts to wear. So, this year, I packed pretty much every shirt I own haha. But, I mean, it's not that bad...I wouldn't feel bad if other people had two large suitcases. But, I remember my roommate last year had ONE small suitcase and I felt SO ridiculous. I mean, I felt so ridiculous. But, I got over that shortly. I think I will be very happy that I have a plethora of clothing articles (sorta) to wear AND I packed my exercise balls. I WILL do my crunches!! I will!!

I refuse to get fat. It's salads with a side of salad for me and minimal french fries. Last summer I got fat, this summer I will not. I refuse to be a blimp.

I'm excited! I'll be fine if my mom doesn't start crying. I don't like watching her cry. I'd cry too. There is no need for tears. Student Life is a good thing.

Lata,

Cookie.

Fin.

I officially have an Associates Degree in General Education.

Holla. Holla.

I am now a Junior in college----> Say whaaaaaaaa?!?!?!?!?!

This marks the end of a part of my life.

Fin.

And the beginning of a new and exciting part.

commencement.

Oh, I love new beginnings.


Lataa.

~Cookie

I fear I shall disappoint.

Samford makes me feel really special.

Too special, I think.

They raised my scholarship. The head of the School of the Arts called me (and laughed heartily at my voicemail message haha) and told me they found some more scholarship money and they wanted to give it to me because they had wanted to give me more previously, but, didn't have any. So, when money came available, he said they wanted to give it to the me, "the one who deserved it in the first place."

My mom called today about housing. They said that one of the theatre heads came in and talked to this admissions lady for an hour about how he already had ROLES picked out for ME (Whaaaa?!) and he told her she had his full permission to give me whatever they possibly could in order to get me to go there.

This blows my mind.

I just hope I don't disappoint them. I feel as though I had a freak audition that was really...amazing apparently (weird) and, Samford feels as if I hang the moon.

I don't feel this way.

I just hope I don't turn out to be this big let down...and they don't wonder why in the world there was so much "hype" about "Sharacookie!!" ...yes, they call me that. :)

I hope I can sing, act, and dance as well as they think I can. ha...oh, boy.

But, it does make me feel good. It's so easy to feel so inadequate when you're pursuing your dreams of being an actress. It's so easy to feel like I'll never be good enough or as AMAZING as EVERYBODY else...that no one will ever want to cast me...or accept me...or want me.

Then God sends along Samford. They believe in me tremendously. I know I am going to grow exceedly while I'm there and I can't WAIT to go!

Also, another God thing...I got a check in the mail for a "Kiddie trust fund" my parents had made for me. It was the exact amount needed for room and board at Samford.

God is good.

The tuition is falling into place. I knew it would. God always has everything under control.

How Great is Our God.


Side note: Speaking of...Chris Tomlin has bad diction. "How Grey is our Gah?" what does THAT mean?

One week from now I'll be in Birmingham soaking up the goodness of Student Life. I will be with a bunch of new strangers who will soon become friends (haha hopefully). I will be bombarded with scripts and various time-consuming stressful responsibilities. I will feel overwhelmed, inadequate, scared, happy, excited, elated, tired...

it's going to be great.

Bring it.

Three days left of BCC. The end is so close...

Jazz recital Wednesday night. Feel free to come and be amazed at my dancing abilities....or extreme lack there of.

I performed a routine to "Sway" by Michael Buble. My teacher said, "INREDIBLE! Absolutely INCREDIBLE"

heyyy...who woulda thunk it? Cookie can dance.

~Cookie

What ARE you?

I guess there's something about being biracial that intrigues white people. They think it's so...interesting...or something.

I went to Clinique to get some lipgloss and a quickliner (LOVELOVELOVE...PLUS it was FREE GIFT DAY!! Oh, makeup. I love thee), and one of the girls working there looked at me and said,

"You look JUST like Leona Lewis!"

I laughed a little, smiled, and said, "Wow, thank you!"

I mean, Leona Lewis is super beautiful...so, hey! I'll take it!

Then she proceeded to ask other employees around the different makeup counters if they thought I looked like her.

"Yeahh!"

"No, she's much prettier!" (hahah RIIIIGHT)

Then the girl was like, "You are just SO beautiful! You're just so exotic looking. I wish I was exotic looking. All these people come in who are mixed with something and they just look so beautiful. I'm just so boring and white."

I mean...what do you say to that?? Is there a way to properly respond without being super awkward?

I've never thought myself to be very pretty. I suppose I find myself decent looking...nothing beautiful or anything. I don't think I'm heinous looking, but, I'm no gorgeous human being.

However, my whole life I've become semi-used to comments like these...even though I still don't know how to respond to them.

Like...the women did this thing (that has happened a lot throughout my life) where they'll stare at me, stare at each other, comment (quite loudly) about how "beautiful I am" (HAHA) and stuff...I mean, seriously...how do you respond to that? It's so awkward.

I never meet someone without being asked, "What ARE you?!"..."You look so different!"

I sometimes enjoy letting people guess. I usually get some sort of Puerto Rican/Spanish/Mexican decent. I've had many people ask me if I could speak Spanish...or expect that I do...like ask me something in Spanish haha...hmm "HOLA?!"

A lot of people just think I'm white with a tan.

I think I throw people off because my eyes are green. I'm not sure, but, I guess it's just something I'll always have to live with.

My favorite is when people will argue with me that I am in fact NOT half black. Umm...I think I...er...know.

It makes my mom really mad when people ask me what I am. She always responds with,

"JUST TELL THEM YOU'RE A PERSON"

I think couples in a biracial relationship develop complexes. I'm pretty sure my mom has a complex.

Sorta like...

"Are you staring at us? Why are you staring at us? YES, I'm WHITE and my husband is BLACK, does that BOTHER YOU?!?! It DOESN'T BOTHER ME!!!"

hahah...

Heyy black & white is the shiznit. Women at Clinique are jealous.

~Cookie

Happy Birthdayyyy

So, it's my birthday. It's been grand. I mean, as grand as a day spent in boring classes can be. Facebook made me feel loved with tons of birthday wishes...and Vandell and Chelsea sent me THE most incredibly insanely amazing birthday messages on my phone EVER. I laughed for like ten years. They were amazing.

I ate amazing sushi and I'm about to devour a gigantic cookie cake...well, not ALL of it, but, as much as my body can manage.

It's been good. So...I'm now 19. Yay. I always thought of 19 as super old until I've reached it. I don't feel old at all. I don't feel like an adult or mature or...awesome. People my age are getting married and that is strange to me. I can't imagine having a boyfriend much less a HUSBAND! Oh, my...I'd probably be the worst wife of all time.

But, yeah, I shall enjoy the next 365 days I have left of being a teenager. Then...it's all over.

on a super negative note...my puppy got fleas (but, they're gone now)...so, I'm paranoid and I've been itching like crazy because I'm pretty certain I have fleas as well. but, I think it's all in my head.

I love you.

~19 year old Cookie

the Naked truth.

So, I had a dream last night that I went to a porn store. I was like looking around while the employees were helping out some other guy with his porno buying. When they were done, a guy came over to me and was like, "Can I help you? What kind of movie are you looking for?" And I was like, "I don't know. I've never seen porn before. Do you have any suggestions?" And he was like, "Oooh a newbie." And he started naming off a bunch of weird random things like...I don't even remember. I just remember that if I DID remember and I wrote them down, you would laugh really hard. Then...that was the end. Hmm...I wonder what this could mean. Maybe I have some deep desire to watch porn or be in porno more like it (HAHAHAHA)...I don't know, whatever goes on in my brain processes is beyond me. And, no, I don't watch porn and I have NO desire to. I actually get awkwarded out just by watching people kiss each other. I doubt I could watch them do the dirty dirty. Besides, that's gross and sick nastayyy. I do want to buy one of those kamasutra books right before I get married or something...or like right after. I mean, I won't know what the crap I'm doing, so, I best study up. I mean, is that weird? Like...get an instruction manual to read with my husband. Sex for dummies? Does that exist? I mean, if he still has his v-card too, he should be just as clueless as I am. The only thing I know is from movies with sex scenes. But, those are usually outlandish like on the kitchen counter or in the middle of the Pacific Ocean on a raft or something...surrounded by sharks. So, unless I plan on spending my honeymoon on a kitchen counter, those movies are of no help. Otherwise wouldn't we just be like super lost? Or is it an innate thing? Not sure. Or...does that like completely crash your husbands ego by telling him he obviously will not know what he's doing and we should probably study up before our wedding night. Is it okay THEN to watch porn? I mean, if you're watching it solely to take some pointers? HAHAH I'M KIDDING I'M KIDDING I'M KIDDING!! Anways, point of blog: I had a funny dream. Thought I'd tell you about it...even though I don't think anyone reads this...probably a good thing. Love you. ~Cookie.

Plus ONE...yayy.

This is an essay I wrote like...three years ago?

It reminisces on one of my favorite memories.

I would just like to preface this by saying that I was 12 and I was very ignorant because I was homeschooled (HAHA). You should not give out your phone number to strangers online. That's scary.

Believing the unbelievable, conceiving the inconceivable, or something unimaginable ever happening to me, seemed as far away as getting my first padded bra. Of course, what a twelve-year-old teeny bopper believes is unimaginable, probably isn’t all that extraordinary at all. I had just made the switch from Barbie’s to boy bands, and had devoted my full attention to the Christian boy band, Plus ONE. I had seen them in concert numerous times, knew every lyric, knew all the band members’ birthdays, siblings, and even what they ordered at, the fast food restaurant, Taco Bell. By the time I had reached the age of eleven, I was completely convinced that one of the band members, Nate Cole, was going to marry me. The band sang feel-good songs about God and faith. Faith was always important to me. Little did I know that my faith was about to be tested.
Lonely, tired and bored to tears, I stared absentmindedly at my reflection in the sliding glass door. My green eyes, accented with my mom’s mascara, stared back, and my curls, awkwardly placed throughout my head, gently caressed the rebellious skin of a preteen. My younger sister, Brigette, stared at our computer screen. She was waiting for someone to sign onto the Plus ONE chat room to cure her from this obscene boredom.
It was late, and we were home alone.
“Hey, someone signed on!” Brigette said happily. I walked over to her.
“Dawang?” I asked, reading the screen. “What a weird screen name.”
I was on and off on the conversation between my sister and this “Dawang” character. They talked about their favorite band members and other subjects. The conversation went on for quite sometime when suddenly “Dawang” typed into the computer that Gabe, a member from the band, was coming onto the chat room. My sister and I laughed.
“Yeah, right.” I snickered.
However, almost momentarily a “Guest” signed onto the chat room.
“Guest” and “Dawang” then proceeded to try to convince my sister that they were Jeremy and Gabe, both members of the band. I wasn’t convinced at all. I just knew that they were two girls trying to mess with our minds.
“Guest” and “Dawang” told my sister to ask them any question. My sister did, and they got them right.
My sister looked up at me with her big brown eyes. “Shara, what if it really is them?”
I couldn’t believe my sister was falling for this.
“Brigette, come on, it’s not them.” I insisted. “They’re just two girls!”
I could tell my sister didn’t agree with me.
Finally, “Guest” typed into the chat room, “What can we do to convince you that it’s us?”
My sister was about to type something when I got an idea.
“Call me,” I typed into the computer. I just knew that the liars would fess up now not wanting to actually call my sister.
However, the response was quite the contrary to what I expected.
“Ok,” “Guest” typed in.
My sister was hysterical.
“It just can’t be them.” I muttered.
The phone rang. My sister ran into the kitchen. The silence that once engulfed our little house in Cocoa Beach was interrupted by piercing screams. I ran to another phone. There, on the other end of the phone line was a member of the band laughing hysterically at my sister’s and my reaction. We talked for hours.
Thinking that things that seem beyond our wildest dreams could ever come true proves very difficult to do. How many times a day do people say, “That’s impossible!” or “No way that could never happen!”? I had such a hard time believing that “Dawang” and “Guest” were actually members of the band. It seemed surreal. However, sometimes the unimaginable comes and pops us in the nose. Faith is believing in the unseen, the unfelt, and the unheard. My faith in amazing things happening to me was very small. That night changed that feeling forever.