State Update [ha! it rhymes...]

So here's what went down on Saturday:

Our Central Challenge was absolutely amazing. We made everyone in the room laugh with some really quick improv moves, and we even used squirting water to our humor advantage. We got 217.5 points out of 240, an AWESOME score [one of the best we've ever had]. We felt good.

Our Instant Challenge can't be discussed, so we won't discuss it. DI regulations, you know.

So we're sitting in the award ceremony. I'm nervous, very nervous. This is it, keeps running through my head.

They get to our Challenge. Then our level [Secondary]. The announcer calls off 6th... 5th... 4th... 3rd... 2nd...

Now I'm really nervous. What if we don't get called at all? What if we didn't even place in the top six? I'm going crazy.

The announcer says they've got a special award for that Challenge, which only builds the suspense. They usually call special awards between second and first place for that specific reason, too. Very cruel.

The first award is read, and the team is called. It's not us. We're terrified--almost always, the team that receives the award gets first. Almost always.

But they go back to their seats and then the announcer begins another award. It's not us. Again, terror. The team goes up to receive their certificates and the reality sets in: They already took second place. They couldn't possibly have first, too.

The announcer then begins to read a third award. I am nearly peeing my pants in anxiety. We listen closely, our eyes growing wide in disbelief when we hear a description of what could possibly be our skit.

Then we hear the word "CAN-vas," and I scream like a little school girl. That's US!

They call out our school and we run to receive the first special award we've ever gotten in all our years of DI. It was our goal for this year, our long-time dream, and it came true.

We didn't just win any old award, either. We got the DaVincI, the god of all DI awards. It's the hardest one to get, and WE GOT IT! :D

So we're standing in a huddle, staring at our beautiful DaVincI medals in awe. The announcer [Vest Dude] strolls over grinning. He says he's got more news for us, and MH [teammate] says that Vest Dude is his favorite person ever [in the microphone]. We know what's coming. We've seen it a million times.

Time slows. My breath catches. And then, though I'm nervous beyond reason and ready to explode inside, Vest Dude says the words we were longing to hear:

"You're going to GLOBAL FINALS!"

I will never, never, NEVER get sick of that phrase. It means so much more than just those five words. It's a week of fun, a whole week with my abiological brothers and sisters. It's the glory of winning first place, of knowing that everyone in Michigan who could've beaten you somehow didn't. It's the knowledge that your hard work will be paid off.

Love to my team, my big and little siblings, the missing pieces of my mind. I love you guys :)

-Abigail Bubblegum Morgan

States

Tomorrow at noon I leave for CMU, headed for DI State Competition. I'm excited.

Wish us luck, please. And if anyone's in town, we'll be performing around 2-something. I think?

Thank you to our coaches, fans, supporters, friends, parents, friends' parents, etc [the Sole Patrol]. You guys are great. :D

-Abbs is [impatient for tomorrow to come, and] OUT.

Night of the Italians [And Everything Else] :O

Last night, Friday the thirteenth, was the night of the Italians. My friends and I sat in laughter as we watched everything Italian flash across the TV screen. The best part, of course, was that our one Italian friend wasn't there to take our jokes as he always does. So we got to make fun of him even more in his absence. :P

Anyway, this Italian fest spurred another conversation, one that we almost always come around to, being the mutt-like Americans that we are: nationalities. Yes, we actually discussed our nationalities. And, like always, I won the award for being most mutt-like.

It's actually kind of ridiculous. If you look to one side of my family, you'll find that I'm Italian, German, French, Scottish, and Irish. Strange combination.

But it gets weirder. Take a moment and glance at the other half of my family tree, and you'll find that I'm also Ukrainian/Austrian/Hungarian, Spanish, Native American, Dutch, and English, along with more French and German.

In short, my ancestors really got around. Gross.

I do enjoy, however, knowing where I came from. It gives me a sense of being, like I really do belong where I'm at. Makes me me, right?

Oh, and the whole descendent-of-royalty deal is pretty nice too. Something to brag about. Always wanted to be a princess...

Abbs is [full of herself, and] OUT.

For a Moment

Loss. It comes in all shapes, all sizes, all forms. The varying levels of grief are astounding, mind-boggling... But loss is still loss, no matter its degree.

There is, of course, death. The most final kind of loss, but not necessarily the most painful. There is no reverse, no backward motion, no method of using hindsight to fix what went wrong before the death. The pain one feels is hard to heal and possibly even more difficult to disguise, but it does heal. It can be disguised. The individual is never the same, but the pain goes away.

There are other losses, too. Kinds that hurt more than death. Like losing someone you love because they chose to leave--that kind of loss hurts. Kills. Because you know they didn't just disappear without a fight. They chose to leave you, to abandon you, of their own free will and have no apparent regrets. You won't ever see them again, you think, because they don't want to return.

The worst kind of loss is letting go.

You know they'll always be out there, living their life and enjoying every minute of it. They'll wake up in the morning and smile, not caring that they left you in their dust. They'll be happy.

And you know what? You might get over them. You might, one day, be able to put those photo albums from your childhood in a box and pretend that that loved one was never there. You just might be able to lie to yourself, to try and erase your own memory.

Want a hint? It doesn't work.

There is no release. Someone who was a part of you from the beginning cannot be simply "let go." So what can you do, besides choke back the pain of loss?

You can prevent it.

Hang on to those you love. Tell them you're there. Make sure, from day one, that they know you'll never leave their side--and that no matter how far they roam, you'll always be a phone call or an email away.

This kind of loss may be harder to face than death sometimes, but it has one advantage that death does not: early prevention. This can be changed. This kind of loss, this grieving and pain and suffering can be completely prevented.

And the reason such a loss is so hard to face, so impossible to overcome, is that you're left knowing that you could have stopped it completely and you didn't.

You didn't.

Sixteen Candles [Make Me Smile]

Yesterday was my sixteenth birthday. April 2, 2007. Most amazing day of the year. Mark it down.

And let me tell you, it was the best birthday yet.

Let me begin with Saturday, March 31st. I get all dressed up and sparkled because I think that a few of my friends are taking me out to dinner. Everyone I could've possibly wanted to see was there, and we ate and talked and laughed as friends do. Even a dear friend of mine who lives quite far away made the journey, and I was highly honored--such a great friend. :) All went well. Someone tipped off the waitress of the occasion, of course, and I hid my face as they sang some obnoxious song that humiliated me beyond reason. Minor drawback. I could deal.

So then we leave the restaurant. I think that we're going to little sister Kailey's house just to "chill." I have no idea that my nearest and dearest bunch have transformed her basement into a full-blown party.

I walk in and stupidly look at the shoes. I know all of those shoes, so I know who's there. Yet it still doesn't click, and I wander innocently down the basement stairs to find my best friends in the whole world waiting to ambush me with decorations, balloons, gifts, cupcakes, candles... Everything.

Even my mom was there, called in at the last minute to take a picture of my face as I slipped into shock. Which, of course, I didn't handle very gracefully. I'm not one for grace.

I nearly cried tears of joy when I saw the people, the atmosphere, the whole shebang--it was absolutely perfect. In every way. I cannot even begin to express my gratitude to those guys and girls I call brothers and sisters... They made this a birthday I won't ever forget.

Even the smallest details were to perfection--cupcakes exactly the way I like them [yellow cake with chocolate frosting], Pez in a bowl, bright colors and lots of music. They know me, and they know me well. And I love them dearly.

So last night, my family took me out to dinner. Red Lobster. Of course, I got my usual, and I tormented my poor grandparents by waving the crab legs at them. Very comical. Slightly cruel, but comical nonetheless, and I was forgiven. :)

I would like to take this moment to recognize the fact that I finally finished an entire Red Lobster meal in one sitting yesterday, a feat I've never accomplished before. I felt like crap afterwards, but it was worth it. So worth it.

Here's to you, my family and friends, the people that make my life worthwhile. There aren't enough words to express the love, the laughter, the tears... Anyway, enough sappy. I love you guys.

Have a wonderful Easter, everyone. Don't eat that second chocolate bunny. Trust me.
~Abbs is [sixteen, and] OUT.


**Tomorrow is my big brother's birthday [also 16...] so here's some happy birthday for him. :D