Hi, my name's Cassandra

and I'm addicted to watching the sappiest movie I can find if and when I'm left alone. 


First of all, I can't stand being left alone, which I think is a function of growing up with five other people in the house and always sharing a room. Secondly, I won't try to say that I hate romantic movies, because that could never be true. At their core, everyone likes a good romance. But, I'm not comfortable with the topic it involves and seriously, I think it's becoming a problem. I'm turning into a girl or something...


All humor aside, I improved again yesterday, just have to actually upload the videos. They aren't great quality, sorry, but I'm having issues figuring out the right angle to shoot from with an iPad in that room. I'll get it. 


What's interesting though is that these improvs weren't the same old thing I normally do. Yes, there were consistent elements of me, of course. But there was something else too. Maybe it was my intention.


I've been on this Ray LaMontagne kick. Every morning, that's the Pandora station that goes on, and then somehow, miraculously, when I get to my rehearsal, I somehow haven't managed to make myself sick of him, and back on goes Pandora for background music. Pandora loves "Let It Be Me," I hear that one every day, most of the time as the first song. I'm taking that as a sign, and it's comforting, especially in the stage of life I'm in at the moment.


You know what's sad that I realized lately, I'm counting away my life. "If I can just make it to September, everything will be fine," "January. In January I'll be done with this and I get to choose my life. Make it to January." That's ridiculous, and I'm not listening to my own speech from senior year of high school. I have got to stop doing that. I want to start seeing each day for what it is and giving it the respect in my life that it deserves. There is not a single moment that I will ever be able to relive or recreate in absolute perfection. I need to grab on to these moments while I can.


I've started looking up on my walks home. I used to go outside and look at the stars with my dad every night. I knew all of the constellations and all of the stories. I knew that they were pieces of history, forever burning in the past during my lifetime. It's mind-boggling for me now, but I just accepted it then. Me, my dad and that telescope. He became a kid with me, it brought him so much joy. Just him and his little girl. And he knew so much about it and had so much to tell me. When I'm walking and looking up, I remember every night outside with him and wish I could do that again. I want to sit outside with my dad and look up, and maybe this time we could have a beer instead of lemonade. I want to relearn all the stories. I want to hold on to every word he has to say...man, I miss them all.


When I look up, on my walks home, I wonder who else in my life is looking up too. Who out there is seeing the same sky at the same time? It's amazing. Miles apart, and that sky would still connect us. It could still make it like we're standing right next to each other.