with practice

how would i ever tell them how much trouble i had gotten in? i laid on marie's futon below her bunk bed in her freshman year dorm room, tossing and turning as i listened to her roommate cry. i panicked. and you know what? it was the last time. it was an ugly feeling to feel, the steamroller rumbling through your gut, the bile rising up your throat. so i refused to let it come back. and you know, disappointment becomes easier with practice.

my parents stopped expecting great things from me. instead of $5 for every A on my report card, my parents begged me to stay out of trouble, to please be safe, to go to class. but what good was class when i wasn't any good at it anyway. the universe had spoken. i wasn't meant to be the smart one. i was the fun girl. Fun. Sean. SeeeAnnn. The SeeAnnn show. and going to class wasn't fun. going to class wasn't mysterious; it was predictable. so i didn't go. sure, i would show up from time to time. i did enough to get me by, and with a few well-placed bribes i even passed accounting the second time i took it.

yes, i had found myself. it was beautiful. then, in january of 2009 i took my beautiful self to Bond University on the gold coast of australia. what little reservations i had, what little doubt i had in fun sean, in the universe, in the right place, in my inner peace, disappeared somewhere in the south pacific. somehow, in the place i had never been before, i had come home.