Woo-hoo!

I just looked at my grades for the semester, and I'm astounded at how well it all turned out. I was fairly convinced I would be beginning my graduate career with a black spot (or two or three) on my transcript, which I would have blamed on taking eight classes for thirteen credit hours (where full-time for a graduate student is 9-12 hours). Miraculously, though, it all worked out . . . and I just like to look at the list of grades, because it's so pretty . . .

I feel like UNT in general likes me much more than BYU ever did. Maybe it has to do with the fact that my dad's a professor here (in fact, I'm sure that's a big part of it), but I definitely feel that whereas BYU largely ignored me in every way for four years of my life, UNT is paying attention, and that alone makes me want to do better.

Tonight I went to see some belly dancers--this girl from orchestra takes belly dancing lessons, and her group was performing. I found it fascinating. There was one group there who called themselves "Just Fabulous" that I found particularly intriguing. The were three ladies who were larger, but made no apologies for it. Rather, they capitalized on their bodies, celebrating them in all their glory. As I watched these three women, so brimming with life, I became so envious of their complete self-confidence. It would take a lot to get me EITHER wearing a midriff-baring costume (really little more than a bra) OR dancing in front of people, so I am astonished that they were able to do both, and to do so with complete lack of inhibition. It's as if they were saying: "Yeah, we're fat. But we're also sexy. Take that." Someday, maybe I'll reach that level of self-acceptance.

I generally shy away from discussing matters of body image, because they happen to be a sensitive issue for me, but in the name of ownership, I'm putting it out there: I've had body image issues ever since elementary school. I remember feeling self-conscious when we'd balance on the seesaw and the scale would tip to my side. The funny thing about it is that when I was that age, I wasn't at all fat. In middle school, I also thought I was grossly overweight, which was probably due mostly to the fact that most of my closest friends were tiny. I've never been predisposed to slenderness per se, so being around people who were made me feel like a cow. The point is that for me, being uncomfortable in my own skin is as normal to me as breathing. I'm certain I could name fifty things I don't like about my body without flinching.

The problem has always been my tendency to compare myself with others. In my case, the commandment "thou shalt not covet thy neighbor's ass" could be taken literally. Why am I buying into the idea that there is one standard of beauty to be upheld? I may not look like a Victoria's Secret model, but that's just one interpretation of what "beautiful" looks like. I sincerely hope for a day when I look at myself without immediately honing in on what's wrong and give myself permission to accept the beauty that is there.

Welcome to Christmas Break.

Now that I have all the time in the world to make my squeaky little blog-voice heard, I find myself struggling to come up with anything worth saying.

So, I'll pleasure you with my vacation to-do list (more of a list of my personal goals, I suppose):

*Read! I want to reread 1984, The Four Agreements, and maybe The Heart is a Lonely Hunter and read The Forest People and (as per Andy's encouragement) the Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy.

*Put my room together once and for all. It's currently in a state of complete disarray and I HATE it. (I switched bedrooms over Thanksgiving Break, and haven't had time or energy to devote to making my new room make sense until now.)

*Exercise more--like, at least a couple 2-3 times a week. Yeah, I've been slacking, and I feel somewhat pallid as a result. Plus, you know, supermodel.

*Write in my journal. Once a week at least. Again, I've been slacking, although not for lack of effort. I just seem to fall asleep before I can complete an entry.

*Ahh, SLEEP! I'm going to sleep during the break.

*Choose my rep for next semester.

*Study for the Music History Grad Placement Exam. For Fall, I missed passing the first half by one lousy question, and I don't want to land myself in remedial music history.

Uhh, that's all I can think of right now. But hooray for the break!

The End is Near!

In this case, that's a good thing. This hasn't been the most difficult semester of my life, but it did get pretty hairy not too long ago. All in all, I've been really blessed to have such a wonderful support system. My family is great. My boyfriend (ha! I can say it now) is amazing. Even my dog has responded to my stress level! I've learned to appreciate love in so many different forms: a cup of hot cocoa, a hug, a doggy head in my lap, a shoulder to cry on, simple time, sacrifice of sleep, etc. I could be here for the rest of the day listing off all the examples I've seen of people (and animals) showing their love to me. It's so appreciated.

One of the sweetest things was today on one of my jury comments:

"What I would like to see you improve is: get rid of your physical and mental tension. Start believing that you are a good cellist and play with more confidence."

This came from someone who had witnessed one of my stress-related eyeball leaks a few weeks prior. That comment, coupled with the fact that he asked me if I was doing alright last week, leads me to believe that he's thought about me, and he really wants me to be better. It means a lot. He's not even my teacher!

I suppose if I were going to identify a theme for this semester, it would be something like "Love conquers all." In the hard times, I've been so reliant upon the love of those close to me, and I know it would have been so much harder if I had to go it alone. Sometimes, I feel like I've been relying on the love others have for me in place of the often nonexistent love I should (but don't) feel for myself. I know it's not healthy, and it's something I'm constantly battling with, but it helps so much to feel like I'm worthy of love when I see it so generously poured upon me.

Sappy, sappy, sappy. The point is, I'm going to make it through this semester, and I owe it to you. That's right, to Cari Lynn Vincent ('cause you know, she comments on my blog). And the rest of you? Uhhh, maybe.