The Name Game

What's in a name? Well first things first, I'm 21, therefore my name will be changed from Tracy to Ms. Tracy, thank you. This thought all started, and by started I mean influenced me to actually write it out, this past thursday.

A strange and beautiful man by the name of Dustin was pressured into guessing a group of girls names. What makes a person a name? Why am I offended by being called Lorraine, just because it sounds like a 45 yr old Jewish woman who owns a kosher store, doesn't mean Lorraine isn't this magnificent woman who changes the world daily with her hands and heart. The other day I asked my mom what she would of named me if it wasn't 'Tracy.' She couldn't come up with anything, but we were left with how a name makes a person. I suppose a person can make a name, but we mutually agreed and laughed on the fact that if she named me Sapphire, I would of been a hussy by now...and naturally green with envy. But then again, you never know I suppose. 

Why is it fun to change your name when the Starbucks Barista asks you what yours is? I'm sure all the 'Shaniquas' of the world aren't laughing whilst you drink your frappuccinos--then again I might, seeing your taste in caffeine. Personally I think nicknames are pretty cool. It's the 'fun you' your name couldn't provide you with. It's an opportunity to act out of character with an unspoken validity. It's especially handy when you find out your actual name means "brave," and you can't even handle space mountain and milk. Lastly, nicknames also come in handy when you realize your name is the TRENDY NICKNAME OF THE YEAR. I'm talking to you Jordan..the girl. 

Anyways, I hope these thoughts stimulate your very own, in who you are and how you represent your name. I do hope the very best for you two, because it's a long road from here, unless your name is Katherine or William. 

Until then, good night and good love, 

                                                Tre

Friendships, Relationships & All Sorts of Ships

(a past journal entry I really dig)

People usually do things to prove things. More so, customary things to prove that they are anything but, and that it is especially awesome because well, they are awesome. I've had time this break to reevaluate my actions and my thoughts, and everything that is mine. I came to the conclusion, it seems all my x's have a y. I'm going to give up this for lent because I am discipline and love Jesus. I'm going to write a blog because hey, I'm a good writer, so please read my stuff. I'm going to mention that I'm currently watching Science of Sleep and that is where I got my blog title, so respect me and my superior movie taste. The list goes on and on for hours I'm sure, and I'm going to bed in thirty. All this to say, I wish I was an actress....and had less y's.

A big fake x of mine is wanting to act. I'd normally go the musician route, but that is more easily attainable so I shall refrain. I think the x's (acts, lifestyles, image, etc.) that are so hard to reach are the ones most easily adored. I'm on a movie kick and just watched The Other Boleyn Girl. Granted anything with Portman you can count on me to be praising, but this movie had me on my knees. That wasn't meant to be ironic. Now you might be wondering why irony would even be relevant to anything in this paragraph, but if you don't, I'd suggest a brush up on world history might do the trick. I digress. I get too emotional and into good film/acting. I guess I want to be apart of endowing that kind of unspoken significance to someone. Though my acting career can safely be put in the, "too bad," box, I can't help it that every time Cho bumps into Harry, I cringe and wished it were me who was capturing a gaze from the handsome wizard. But I guess there are several reasons in this specific example...

Basically life sucks when you want something so bad and know it cannot be. And you can guess that it's not acting that I'm all sore about. But the idea of "it" just messes me up. The idea of anything that crosses my mind as satisfaction finds it's way to leave me feeling unsatisfactory. Tonight I lent every letter of the alphabet to two great pals who let me divulge about what I do want, what I think I want, and what I wish I think I wanted and was left with a simple response. Aspirations and ambition, wants and needs, and x's and y's are not silly and is irrefutable if the time spent scuffling the floor, was a time consoled with God. A second response from me followed:

I can definitely work on some re-scufflage.

to living 21 years imaginatively illustrious

=

Oh Romeo

Observing a relationship sometimes makes me feel like I'm watching a play. At least that's what I felt like a while ago when I found myself being...perceptive.

You wonder if this is where you want to be at this very moment, but either way you find a means to entertain yourself with what's been given, so I did. Somewhere in the duration of observing this peculiar phenomena, I hoped to walk away with a lesson or two once it was over, a perhaps deeper morale to live by once I exit the scene--or once their scene was over.

Suddenly I was left with this feeling that I've seen this type of play once before, you know that feeling...the one where originality is the farthest thing from you and a white v-neck is just around the corner. But you have faith in it, that there is such thing as true...play. But what I saw was a bit dark, but this familiar and popular dark. I thought to myself, this is common. It was so common, it made Shakespearean literature look foreign. All drama, jealousy, betrayal and lies. Immersed in all things ungodly, unloving, and unwise. 

I feel the main characters in this had become the main characters because they sought out their own power and image. There was no room for adoration or mutual appreciation before my eyes, I'm certain. 

I could beg for a sequel...but then again, I don't know if I want to watch anymore. The theater isn't for me. My butt's asleep and the costs to sit through one is steep. But I believe in other means to redefine my perspective on love. Maybe technology can reprogram me. I hear Apple is reinventing the human heart.

Beyond my winged unicorn

Love love LOVE love <3. It takes a lot of nerve to even begin to define it, let alone shroud it with mystical italicization and symbols and I don't intend to--not today at least. I don't care what most people believe of this irrepressible word. But first, for the holy records,  I'm going to purposely stray away from the whole Truth aspect of love, that is Jesus. Now from here on out, I confidently stand on this podium of urgence and tell of my latest petition. 

Believe in a love that is made specifically and utterly for you. 

Trust me my friends, I am a realist and believe in preparing in life, especially in dealing with matters of the heart. But I do have to warn you, if you don't believe in the kind of love that can surpass or even reach the magical unicorn fantasy land state (assuming that's even fanciful as I think it is) then you limit how many letters you can bold or capitalize.

I'm certain that life's blemishes have ordered you a personal pair of rock-colored specs, but why wear them when you have..dare I embarrassingly say, 20/20 vision? (Though at my expense, you now get the point). 

You have a choice. But I do have to say, I for one am not really in to the whole modern day romance at all. 

Beyond my winged unicorn though, I've made a decision to only fall purely and incandescently in love. 

I don't think it's too bold to ask for, let alone believe in. 

<3>

Tracy