Blue Hair, Green Converse, and Certifiable Insanity

Remember, oh about a couple of months ago, how I told you I was giving you a salutatorian speech and then had to admit that was a misunderstanding and I actually was not giving a speech? Well...it turns out I lied to you twice. Sorry!
Recently, I got a call from my high school counselor that said I actually could give a speech if I wanted. Either way, it was up to me. And do you know what I said?
Do. You. Know. What. I Said?
I said yes.
Actually, instead of "yes," I'm almost positive I said "sure" with a self-assured, carefree inflection to my voice. Staring blankly at the receiver, my insides lunged to recapture that abhorrent little word, but it was too late. Some convoluted part of me had already committed to a mission of certain death.
As I'm sure you are already aware, I am not a public speaker. Aside from my Spanish class this quarter, which has eight people and requires participation, I almost never speak in class. I write just about all the time, but verbally expressing those words in front of ten (or several thousand) people is pretty terrifying.
Myself and I, we had a long talk after agreeing to make that speech. On one hand, I was of course terrified. But on the other, I was secretly proud of myself. I knew that I was probably going to stumble over my words and make an utter fool out of myself on Graduation Night. But if I'd declined, I think I would always regret it.
I want to go out and change the world, and there's no way I can do that if I can't talk in front of people.  So, just to cement my stupidity for all eternity, I got two strands of my hair bleached and dyed blue the day before (to match my school colors of red and blue, of course) and started preparing.
When I first wrote my speech weeks before, I kept going over and over it, feeling oddly guilty but not knowing exactly why. Then, one night I was talking with my mom about graduation (who was dying to know what my speech was about, since I quite obstinately would not share it with anyone). She challenged me to put God in my speech, and that's when I realized exactly why it hadn't worked before. Leaving God out of my speech to please high school administrators was, in essence, lying. My Christianity is part of my identity, so giving a salutatorian speech and not mentioning my faith would be like going up there and mising part of my face or something. So I reworked it the night before the deadline and turned it in and, to my surprise, my counselor didn't cross out the "G-word" with red ink or phone me with directions to rewrite. Even during practice, he didn't say anything. I could hardly believe it.
The night before graduation, I barely slept, thinking about standing up in front of thousands of people to talk about the future, following one's passions, and God: no small task for one eighteen-year-old. By the time I ascended the stage decked out in my red robe, green Converse, and blue hair, though, all the butteflies had practically vanished. My voice was clear and I barely stumbled at all over my words.
When I returned to my seat, this huge feeling of relief washed over me. I did it. Now that I (voluntarily!) gave a salutatorian speech, I can do anything. I'm reminded of the verse Philippians 4:13, which says, "I can do all things through Christ who strenghtens me."
Huzzah!

The Future! Or something.

Before I start this post, I have to get something off my chest.... I'm a liar. That's it. There it is. As it turns out, as a salutatorian I do not have to give a graduation speech, so my last post was completely and totally useless! Sorry. It was unintentional lying, though, so would that be called negligent deceit? Hmm. Anyhow, sorry about that! Since you (probably) can't hear inside my head, I thought I'd let you know that I'm typing in an accent right now. And not just any accent....a BRITISH accent! I know, I know, you wish you were me, but as it turns out, watching old Doctor Who episodes for hours on end can severely damage one's brain. Which led to the following conversation..... Me: Mom, I changed my career goals a bit. My mother: Oh yes, what are they? Me: I want to be, erm...a TIME TRAVELER! My mother: Well, why don't you travel just going forward one year at a time, Courtney. Ha, ha. She's brilliant. For the last eighteen years and eleven days, I've been trying to figure out what to do with my life. Now that I'm an almost-graduate, I hear the word Future about fifteen times a day. Which would be nice if I had a clue what to do with it. It's sort of like an ugly Christmas sweater given from a well-meaning relative, but much, much scarier. And, on top of that, it's too big and I can't find the receipt. According to my mother, I have to go to work, pay taxes, and buy groceries like a normal human being. That's sad. I was sort of hoping to change the world. But I'm going to make the best of it and TRAVEL the world....with the money that I make from some job which I have yet to decide on. It will be something exciting, though. I'm sort of waffling between ER surgeon and foreign correspondent. First stop (hopefully): England! I'll just keep a lookout for any blue boxes along the way.

SALUTATORIOUS!

Hello, my name is Courtney Clifton, and I am a salutatorian. Which, unbelievably, annoys me. I'm *somewhat* of a perfectionist. So, if you ask me for my GPA I will cringe and tell you 3.994, thanks to ONE semester in HONORS Chemistry where I got a 92. (See what I mean?) But, I'll admit it, I'm still pretty excited to be salutatorian. That means only one person is better than me! (Kidding.) So I was in the midst of my victory dance, rendering a (500) Days of Summer-esque accompaniment to "You Make My Dreams" when I remembered.... Graduation speech. .... ... ... That, my friend, is the sound of fear. Also, silence, since the song ended at precisely the wrong moment. I know it might be hard for you to believe, considering how incredibly witty and hilarious my blog is, but I hate public speaking. Hate it. I get cottonmouth, my palms start sweating, and I quake with the fright of standing in front of people and making, you know, inspiring sentences that also make sense. I have no idea why, since I like people, but something about standing in front of them and trying to keep them entertained for an indefinite period of time terrifies me. So, I went through my options: 1) come down with a mysterious illness, 2) fake my own death, 3) lose my voice, 4) forget how to speak English, 5) decide to take a road trip across country at the last minute, 6) turn into a insta-star and have to travel the world before June or, 7) suck it up and write the speech, already. Sigh...... As far as I can see, the only real option is 7. Unless my life transforms into a teen novel or sitcom, in which case, who knows what will happen! Mystery! Drama! Suspense! Unfortunately, life is entirely on a different plane than fiction, so odds are I will probably end up writing the speech. And I will quiver with fright, not forget to not lock my knees, and remember the day for the rest of my life! I will be.... ...SALUTATORIOUS! (Cue dramatic music and lights.) Ladies and gents, I just invented a word. Maybe I can pull off this speech after all.