I am me.

And perhaps I like you.

I am scared of something.

It's called waking up one morning and being old. Like, very old. Like, thirty or something.... Anyway. I'm very scared of waking up one morning and being old and thinking, "I haven't done anything with my life." And therefore, I am going to start a bucket list. I would invite all of you to join me - please. But that's your choice. (Bi, Kat, Ave, Hayles, and Kaitlyn, you have no choice. You are just required to do a lot of these things with me.) Well. Today is my hundredth post! Huzzah. I'm very happy with the way this little blog has turned out, aren't you? Nonetheless, ladies and gentlemen. The Bucket List (or part of it at least):

1. Be on Wheel of Fortune, The Price is Right, Jeopardy or some funny game show like that.

2. Learn to yodel.

3. Go to Asia.

4. Go to Europe.

5. Eat something terrible tasting that I can brag about for a while.

6. Kiss on the first date.

7. Attend Midnight Mass.

8. Substitute a high school class.

8b. Be the coolest sub they've ever had.

9. Perform on Broadway.

10. Graduate from high school.

11. Throw a giant 11/11/11 party.

12. Be on a late-night talk show.

13. Get into a great college back east.

13b. Graduate from that college.

14. Get my drivers licence.

15. Meet a celebrity.

15b. And also possibly pet their hair.

15c. Unless that'll get me a restraining order.

16. Dye my hair.

17. Get a really cool job with bragging rights.

18. Pretend to be a man for an entire day.

19. Speak with a British accent for several days in succession.

20. Go on a huge shopping spree.

21. Pull an all-nighter on a school night.

22. Ask a stranger on a date.

23. Accept a dare.

24. Be on the news.
24b. People aren't only on the news because they do bad stuff like rob old ladies, okay?

25. Have a song I sing on Itunes.

26. See a million or so of my favorite musicians in concert.

27. Reject the boy every girl is dying for.
28. Wear stilettos where they aren't usually worn.

29. Live alone.

29b. In the coolest apartment/condo/house ever to be.

30. Have a fantastic photoshoot with people I love.

31. Buy a wedding gown.

31b. Get married.

31c. And try not to get divorced.

32. Ride in an actual train.

32b. Trax so does not count.

33. Dance solo with a professional company.

34. Be voted "Best Dressed."

35. Sleep past noon.

36. Crash a wedding.

37. Get a tattoo.
38. Get my typewriter fixed.

39. Play a game of quidditch.

39b. Because quidditch is now a real, actual sport. I promise you. Here's the link. npr.org even said so. They're very reliable. I'm being totally serious here.

I think that's sufficient for now. Who's joining me?

Go play quidditch.

All my love, Addy.

(Comment and tell me which numbers you're joining me for. We start now.)

Boys will be boys.

It's fine.

Sometimes I'm like, "Waaaah! I have the worst life ever!" And then other times I'm all, "My life is the best life of all the lives! Yayy!" And then I feel bipolar. It's fine.

Also, last night, I danced with my headphones in - a full on dance, with leaps and turns and pointed toes and all that jazz - on a sidewalk in Salt Lake City. People looked at me weird. It's fine.

Cookies with raisins in them are mostly only salads.

All my love, Addy

This is me. That's all.

My name is Addy.

I like paintbrush pens, topknot ballerina buns, and live music. I enjoy books.

I detest feeling underdressed.

I'm rather a fan of Vogue magazine. I'd wear stilettos every day if that was at all practical.

I believe that the semi-colon is the dark horse of punctuation; we should use it more often. I text too much and then complain about my dislike of texting. I like red lipstick, Cormic McCarthy, wishing on clocks, and wearing dresses. I appreciate British humor, British playwrights, and British accents. Sarcasm is a friend of mine. I love my purse, poetry, and spiral bound notebooks.

I'm a stronger girl than I give myself credit for; I underestimate myself.

I'm a performer - I dance dances, sing songs, and enjoy Shakespeare rather a lot. I'm an oldest child, but much less responsible than my sister just younger than I. I have common sense, though I choose not to use it. I'm a night owl, and certainly not a morning person. I like caffeine.

I own seven pairs of jeans, though I usually wear the cheapest, comfiest pair. I don't love makeup - but at the same time, I do. I fascinated by cat eye eyeliner and glitter mascara.

I like to lie on the floor and listen to classical music while reading fat novels. It makes me feel alive.

I am better than I used to be.

Here.

I don't have much to say. Here. Eat up some pictures I spent the last hour or so collecting. I have way too many. Which one is your favorite?

So glide away on soapy heels and promise not to promise anymore.

Hello, November. I am different this year.

It's a nice thought, if you think about it. How have you changed since last November? Have you changed since last November? "Why November?" you ask. I'll tell you why November. "Cause it's November right this moment." That's what I'd say. Have you grown? Shrunk? Cried more? Less?

I, for one, have grown in some ways. I have simply grown as a person. Matured? Well, I wouldn't use the word "matured" maybe... Anyway. I'm smarter. Brighter. And, in a funny way, younger. I'm a little more alive than I was a year ago. One year ago I was starting ninth grade. I don't know. It was... It just was. This year has taken growing and adapting and being and existing, and more than all of that, thriving. I had a few dark patches over the last year, but look at me now. I had to head off to a new school (which brought upon more tears than I've ever cried over any three consistent weeks maybe ever) (except possibly the first three weeks of my life) (my mom says I cried a lot when I was a newborn). But look! Look at me now! I am happy. I am classy. I am alive. As a dancer, I've grown incredibly. I've had strangers come up to me after a performance and tell me how lovely I am as a dancer. I've had a moment or two where I've been a little down on myself, but not anymore. I am happy and I am content and I am alive. I've made so many new friends since last November. I'm in love. I'm alive. I'm not afriad. I sleep less - and sometimes more. I am a little more out there, a little less afraid. I took away the nightlight (I'm a little more mature, I guess). My voice has matured and I've sung a few pieces that you wouldn't believe. I'm just happy. I'm so comfortable with who I am now. I am not afraid to not wear makeup to school (I didn't today). I am not afraid to talk to "cool people." I am happy to wear my hair on top of my head and run around like a wild thing.

Mostly, I'm at peace. I'm at peace with everything out there. And I'm happy. I'm a wild thing.

Stop simply existing.

All my life, Addy