Who knew that dreams come true?

So I have realized that people actually read this. After a while folks were like, "You need to blog again! We love reading your blog!" and my I was like, "Sweet! I'm rad!" but that thought was immediately followed by, "Aaah crap now everyone expects all your blogs to be awesome." And then I would postpone writing until I was feeling blogawesomey. Which is never. So thanks, readers, for dooming me to failure. Inevitably, this is being written in the wee hours of the morning as I'm pining for a certain fella and/or a nice, hot panini. (I hate going to bed hungry, you?) And this is what is on my mind:

Well, yesterday I went up to Manhattan for an interview with a prestigious acting conservatory. Basically I went up for a nice day off and to do some shopping, since I wasn't expecting anything else to come of it (I got some sweeeetarse heels! They're so fugley they're beautiful). Anyways, turns out they accepted me and basically my life has instantly become super duper awesome. I'm pretty much gonna ROCK you, world! NYC is gonna give me an inch and I'm gonna take the freakin highway. This is literally a dream of mine coming true: this opportunity. And I've never fully believed in the "dreams coming true" business. So, I'm sort of conflicted cuz now I have to change some personal philosophies, become less pessimistic, blah blah blah. Which is annoying, but it can't be helped.

Me and my mom's newish husband Chuck wrote and recorded some music this last weekend, too, which was rad and scary at the same time. Surely there is a word for that. Andre the Giant? This weekend was Andre the Giant. So I'm singing, readers! Just like I said I would. And to prove it to you, I'll find someone who can teach me how to put songs into blogs. And then we'll see what happens...

For those of you who are waaaay worried/kinda pissed at my decision to pursue my dreams, I am sorry. I really am. I was on your side most of my life so I feel your pain (conflicted, again). But I would like to assure you that I will not allow myself to go hungry or to turn into a criminal. And I won't ask you for money. I just ask for you to not point out how poor I am going to always be and how risky this is and how irresponsible/irrational it seems and how everyone is just gonna tell me I'm wonderful and steal my money when I'm not looking and then all of the sudden I've turned into a the ringleader of some brutal lesbian street gang. That's all I ask. You don't even have to support me! Just don't point out these things. Hey thanks!

ALSO if any of you work with me or know people who work with me, let's keep this on the DL, shall we? I value my job. I'm not retarded (well that's what momma tells me) and I am not gonna give up a good income for a summer conservatory with an unpredictable outcome. Me and the Bossman will work it out somehow, I'm fairly confident. So just leave it to me pretend we never had this conversation

Wanna know what makes the world go round? Love. Chew on that until next time.

Holler back.