Post by JOSELYN MARIE DARE on Apr 29, 2011 13:52:33 GMT -5
joselyn marie dare.
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NINETEEN. SOPHOMORE. SPIRIT. MIRANDA COSGROVE. WENDY DARLING.[/CENTER]
I'll think of a mermaid lagoon, underneath a magic moon.
" Most story tellers like to begin their stories with once upon a time, and enjoy ending their tale of fiction with happily ever after. However, I, Joselyn Marie Dare, like to start with a little more.... Shall we say flair? I suppose though, that this is not just another fairy tale that I am to share with you, now is it? This is meant to be my life in a nut shell, not some fantasy story meant for children and those who enjoy adventures. However, as a esteemed writer ( at least in my own mind ) I can give this whole thing a shot. As stated before, my name is Joselyn Marie Dare. My friends and my brothers call me Josie, which I prefer over Joselyn. I'll be twenty-one years old in six months and four days- and if you were wondering, it's just going to be another regular ol' birthday where dad yells at me and tells me its high time I stop doing blah blah blah. I've learned to tune him out over the years. A nifty gift I must say. Although I am twenty, and have been told I'm quiet pretty, I am, and have always been, very single. I think I throw the boys off a bit with all of my wild stories, and just to clear the rumors up, I am not, nor have I ever been, interested in the female sex in the romantic way.
" Now that I have that all cleared up, shall I continue? It's always vexed me to hear rumors that are so far from fact that it sounds like a monkey has escaped the zoo. The reason I haven't dated in the past is simple. I have so much to do, so much fun to be had, to be bothered by going steady with someone. I'm the kind of girl who likes a little adventure now and again, and I'm not talking about the kind of adventures that could get one arrested. I like exploring things, and coming up with wild stories for the things I find. I've always enjoyed telling stories, and while I was growing up I would tell the wildest, craziest, adventure-st stories I could think of to my brothers. Stories about pirates, mermaids, and even fairies.
While I always craved adventure, I have always taken good care of my brothers, a role that has sometimes casted me into the mother role of things. Not that I mind, mind you. I love taking care of my brothers, love that they know they can depend on me for anything. Though my ultimate goal is to become a famous author, another dream job would be child care. I can just imagine playing games with the children, sharing stories, and taking care of boo-boos. That would be an adventure of its self. It would be something my father would be proud of me.
He always claimed that I have my head up in the clouds, saying that I need to grow up. In high school, I tuned him out as best as I could. Now, however, I am realizing that what he says has some merits too it. Growing up can not be such a bad thing, can it? I never enjoyed the idea of growing into an adult and doing adult things, like working full time. Not having time for ones own children. When I was little, I told stories of a land where one never grew up. As a girl, it was a dream of mine to one day visit that land, before I grew up, and never returned. Now, now growing up doesn't seem as bad as I remembered it being.
Aside from being an adventuress, an aspiring author, a mother figure, a person fearful of growing up, I am also a decent student. Not the best, that's for sure, but I do make 'B's and 'C's, and thats not that bad. I've always been the kind of student who seemed to care, but who had a life. I could easily get 'A's if I wanted, but I do not enjoy spending my life with my nose in a book, although I'm sure that would also make father proud. If I let my wonder over my father, and my issues with my father, I'd simply come to the conclusion that he would just be proud if I were someone other than myself.
I love my father, perhaps not as much as I love my mother, but thats because our relationship has always been strained. I have always felt as if I were a disappointment to him. I know that he does love me, but the look in his eyes when he is cross with me-which he is almost always cross at me, theres the look that I've disappointed him. Mother has told me that it is just my imagination, but I'm having a hard time swallowing what I believe are her lies. She is a caring woman and wants nothing but the best for everyone. She has always been the person I have gone to for everything. She is my rock, where as father is the thorn in my side.
I think I'm going to move on from talking about my parents though, and try to give you a little bit more about me. While I'm normally a fairly free going person, I've noticed I do have a tendency to get a bit jealous when someone else gets something I want. Not surprising, since most people don't enjoy watching others get something, or even someone, they want. I get all huffy and puffy and oh how I would like to blow ones house down! However, all I really manage to do is just stomp off, mad as hay fire.
" I'm not really sure how I turned out the way I did. I mean, my mother and father seem completely different then myself. My mother is a, as my grandmother would say, ' society type', and my father... Well he's a banker with a temper, end of that story. I suppose growing up with the restrictions that my father tried to place on my brothers and I kind of shapes a person. Or perhaps it could have been the simple fact that we had a nanny take care of us who was a wonder. Either way, I am who I am. Mother has told me several times that I am just like my father when he was young. However, I just don't see it.
Growing up, I was afraid of my father, since he has always had such a quick temper. He did not like it when I told stories to my two younger brothers. Sure at first he thought it was nice of me, but after my brothers would run through the house pretending to be pirates, father's patience ran out. While I can't really blame him for getting mad at us for breaking furniture, I can place blame on him for blowing up at us and sending us into hiding from him. He's really got himself a wicked temper there. I'm not really sure how mother has dealt with him for as long as they have been married. I lie. I do know how, she loves him to put it simply. It seems love makes a person accept all the other's faults. If this is truly the case, I'm not so sure falling in love is really my thing. I don't fear love, as I have seen it work for couples, I'm just not so sure its for me. This is something I haven't mentioned to anyone else, not even my brothers and I tell them everything!
Of all my family members, my two younger brothers have always been my favorite. They share similar traits with me. Like being caught up in a wonderful story, and sometimes playing it out. They are perhaps my closest friends in the world. Perhaps one of the reasons why we are so close is because I have always felt a responsibility to my brothers, sometimes acting as a mom when needed. Some would be bitter over that, however not I. I am extremely proud of both my brothers. They can do anything they set their minds on, even if its causing a bit of trouble here and there in their endless endeavors of boyhood. It was with both of my brother's help that I realized that I wanted to be an author. Their love for my stories always pushed me to come up with more stories for them. Even when father was trying to discourage me from such a life as that as a writer's life, they encouraged me to continue on. Without their help, and all the English classes and liberians, I probably would not be in college earning my degree. Not that a writer really needs a degree, it just looks nice.
My brothers aren't my only friends, if that's what you are thinking. They are just the ones I've spent all of my life with. In high school, I was fairly popular. Certainly not the queen bee kind of popular, but my fellow students liked me. Even if they thought I was a bit weird. My girl friends from high school had been a real hoot. We had a lot of fun together. However, after graduation this past year we all kind of got busy with preparing for college in the fall. I've heard from a few of them, enjoying college life and all the boys. It's just not the same now, with all of us busy trying to make friends at our respective college and trying to earn degrees. We've been to busy to do more then facebook each other. A sad thing when friends grow apart. I suppose real friends stay together through everything.
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ISA THE GREAT. TWENTY-TWO. GMT-5 EASTERN. ELEVEN YEARS. MSN, EMAIL, PM.
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