shhhh it's a secret

this blogger has a secret. is it a dark secret? no, not really, but a secret all the same. come closer...stop.

*whispers* i want to be a singer. it is my number 1 wish as i blow out my birthday candles every year. 

but it can't happen, i sob as i write this.

growing up, i had very few insecurities. whether i should have felt more or not, i don't know, but i was pretty confident in myself. that is, until i was introduced to the 'musical'.  i have a faint recollection of my heart beating fast when they were assigning lead roles in the 5th grade play, and feeling disappointed that my name was not called. i don't think i had realized at this point that i was shitty at singing, and probably thought that at the tender age of 11 i had it in me to sing and dance my way to stardom. i'm thankful that i was able to use my time in the privacy of the back chorus row, where i was placed because i was a giant 5th grader, to figure out that my singing voice sounded similar to a squawking hen with laryngitis.

i braved that 5th grade play the best i could, but it was probably the most uncomfortable i ever felt throughout all of my formative years--enduring something is very different than participating, i learned. on top of all this singing business, i was forced to wear a skirt to the opening night of the show. A SKIRT! what about my jorts? it was as if someone had slapped me across the head and said, "victoria, you are no longer a person, you are a girl."

at any rate, that faint hope to star in the musical gave birth to a pitiable offspring that still lives today: the resigned daydreamer. but the aspirations of my daydreams are much higher than starring in the 5th grade play--i inevitably belt out adele and the like to my ever captive dream audience who reside in my car. after making hideous squawks for a solid 5 minutes or so with my blinders on, the fantasy unravels, and my car sounds less filled with the beautiful sounds of my dreams and more like, well, the squawks. that is okay though, because in this blogger's mind, reality never really has to win anyhow.

the night of the 5th grade play. grrr.