sad news

i just found out that my high school chemistry/physics teacher died. he was having surgery... clotted stent... didn't make it. this means that they'll have to find someone to replace him. sad. there just aren't any decent science teachers up here.

this is very odd. i don't like it. i'm not terribly suprised, for some reason. but my little sister's pretty upset. and it's a strange feeling. poor guy. it's times like these that i almost wish purgatory existed. he was a lonely man here, and i hate to think of death making things worse for him.

i have many fond memories of his classes. we used to drive him crazy, cause we'd talk to much. or sing. and, my junior year, whenever the choir had to leave, a full third of that class disappeared. it frustrated him so much, cause then it seemed pointless to teach anymore, cause a third of the class would need it gone over again. but he was mostly a good sport about it. we tended to do well enough in class. actually, we were some of the best students.

three years. i was in his class for three years. and i know so many other people who had him for a teacher. this is going to hit a lot of people. kyrie eleison.

home again

well, now, i am home. i sat in the san francisco airport for at least 7 hours between my flights. that was just too much. especially since i was tired - very tired - but unwilling to sleep in the airport. i had to keep myself awake. the flights themselves were just fine. i dozed, as usual. but, since i got next to no sleep last night, and not much any of the several nights before, i am very tired. in fact, i'm so tired that i probably should be sleeping instead of doing this. especially since it's essentially 2 am. silly 3 hour time difference.

on another note. life is good. or rather, the past two day have been good. the past day especially. i'm in a slightly catatonic but almost blissful state that i don't quite understand but i'm not going to question too much for fear of losing it. it's been too long since i've gotten a decent number of hugs. must fix that problem. i can't really think right now. my brain does that. if it's got something too complicated that it knows it can't figure out, it just shuts down most everything. i'm going to sleep. and perchance to dream beautiful dreams. je veux un homme. je suis sur le nuage neuf. je fais sommeil. a bientot!

have you ever FELT love? i just did...

"do justice, love mercy, and walk humbly with your God."

and "if you fear, it's because you're trying to do your own thing."

and wholehearted, passionate, submission... it's all or nothing... and it's hard.

i'm scared. i can still think of excuses. but i'm not satisfied with where i am now, and my desire for someone who loved me jealously and unremittingly and completely and perfectly would be fulfilled. i'm still scared of being loved. and scared of loving. i just don't know how.

but... i want what they have too. and i have never ever felt my existence so validated, by one simple action and one simple sentence.

my heart yearns for so much more

Giving Thanks

I actually have quite a bit to be thankful for. I just never think about it. First, I'm actually enjoying my classes, and most of my homework. School isn't being annoying. Second, I got an A in my first half-semester class - my first solid A since high school. This makes me ridiculously happy. Third, I had a wonderful Thanksgiving break. I got to see my grandparents, my brother, and my cousin. I got to drive a nice car, I got to shoot a nice gun - and hold others, and read, and relax, and talk. Fourth, although I'm still not great, I'm doing a better job of staying in touch with home, and it helps my head stay more level. Fifth, I'm busy enough that I'm not thinking too much. Mostly, that is. Sixth, I got a bunch of books in TN; hurrah for grandparents! Seventh, even though my travels both to and from TN were crazy and tiring and turbulent and long, I'm safe. I survived just fine. Every time traveling goes haywire on me, and I make it through ok, my confidence grows just a wee bit. This is a good thing. Annoying as it was to have over an hour of constant turbulence, it made me stronger, I think. Eighth, I've got a good group of people to eat dinner with on Mondays; this is encouraging and fun. Ninth, my floor is reading The Princess Bride aloud, while drinking tea and hot chocolate and eating cookies. Such a funny book. And it's good fellowship. Tenth, I got some really good food (read: steaks) this past week. I was so proud of myself for how much I ate! Eleventh, it looks like I'll be visiting Olin briefly this weekend.
I know there's more, but for now, I'll leave it here. I could find things to whine about, too, but they just aren't worth it. The point is that there are good things in my life, regardless of whether or not I pay attention to them. Now to take all those complaints and somehow turn them into thanks as well...

creativity

the depths of this past week were buried by a research paper. the past month or more a haze of worksheets, books, and essays has clouded my life. someone asked a couple weeks ago if i was still writing poetry, and i realized that no, i haven't written much lately. and if i sit down with the intention of writing, it doesn't happen. poetry is spontaneous - it always has been for me. but this spontaneous creativity hasn't been happening lately. so, of course, i wonder why. where's my creativity? is it buried by all my attempts to comprehend all i'm reading? am i just too busy? i don't think it's busyness; i've been much busier and still had poetry exploding my brain. i'm inclined to think it's a lack of emotional stimulation. looking back at most of what i've written, it was usually during an emotionally stimulating or painful time. when i'm complacently busy, just doing the motions of living, my creativity seems to shrink. i seem to need to either be hurting or ecstatic. so my writing of poetry seems to be a sign of badness or absolute wonder. it means life is either horrid or beautiful. in times like this, when life is normal and just ok and all the same, nothing comes. does emotion stimulate creativity? does contentment hinder it? which is more important: creativity or contentment?

gordon globes and growl

wow. i just got back from the Gordon Globes. i am, for once in my life, wearing a dress; i wore heels down there. the Gordon Globes are a mock-up of the golden globes: they show student-made videos, and vote on the best. most people dress up. it seems to me as if most girls, at least, love any excuse to wear pretty, flattering (and often not quite modest) dresses. and lots of makeup and hairspray and ridiculously high heels. my shoes weren't high, but oh golly are they hard to walk in.

the videos were really good. they were hilarious. they were well-made. the one that won overall was called Mouse: a mockery of House, in which Mouse is a computer doctor. it was hilarious and very well done. i'm glad i went just because the videos were so good. they made me laugh very much, so i am pleased. but it did feel weird; i always feel odd among people in very fancy clothes, especially since i never go the whole nine yards with the hair and makeup and etc. i almost wish i had just worn normal clothes, or at least not worn heels. walking up and down a hill in heels... ugh.

now for the rant that has been trying to come out: why people (girls) dress up the way they do. what's the point in wearing a ridiculously fancy dress and high heels? i guess very often they wear dresses that are much more flattering than their normal clothes; but some certainly don't. and most of the dresses are fairly revealing. and uncomfortable. and cold. so why dress up? i've heard people say it's fun; to that i ask why? what makes it fun? people say it's fun because they feel beautiful, and maybe for some people that's true. but every time i've dressed up for something, i don't feel beautiful. i usually feel stupid and ugly. dresses don't make me feel pretty. especially since so many others are in all their crazy pretty dresses, and they actually sometimes do look good. so, i don't find dressing up fun, nor does it make me feel beautiful. so i ask, what's the point? as far as i can see, there is none. absolutely no good reason. so why does a piece of me feel sad at this? some part of me wishes i like dressing up; wishes it was fun; wishes it made me feel beautiful. why do i feel so insignificant?

back from olin again.

once again i return to gordon from visiting olin. once again i am glad to know who i know. once again i wonder what my life would have been like, only to shake my head because that is something i don't want to imagine. once again i am struck by the kindness and openness to new faces, by the huge hugs and happy smiles, by the sense that one is loved because one is.

i only wish i knew people better - never worse. i only wish i saw people more often - never less. i only wish for more. i never wish for less. ever. at olin i am reminded that i matter, that others matter, that i matter to others, and that others matter to me. please say hi. please come by. and if you don't, i will... someday. when i can. because olin makes me smile inside.

red sky shimmering, deep sky glowing, music strumming in my ears,
blue sky brightening, deep sky fleeing, music playing all around,
gold sky sparkling, deep sky closing, music soaring in and out,
through the clouds and falling stars
through the trees and flowers
through the seas and waving winds
through the space and hours

i've been photoshopping for hours this afternoon and evening - for an assignment, not for fun. and i'm tired of doing it. i'm also just tired. i wish i could go on a hug round and gather goodness so i can sleep. my roommate is playing very nice, mellow, happy-me acoustic guitar music. i like it. it makes me want to sing, to create, to dance, to just sit with my eyes closed and melt into a starry sky. i would float up, towards the open spaces, and it would be warm and comforting. all around the stars shine and wink, and their light is exhilarating and soothing all at once. all around is the deepest, richest blue imaginable, with a river - a road - of silvery gold light leading from the moon through to the depths of the fullest emptiness. that is my path - down the river into the ocean of solid nothingness. and it's most beautiful. shalom.

brain dump

it's odd how surroundings define levels of complication and stress. like now, here, i just had my second test for the week earlier today, and i have two essays to right this weekend, and i'm starting to stress. ok, i'm stressing. and it feels like a lot. BUT, if i take a step back and look at me at this time one year ago, i thought i was dying. literally. this is nothing compared to a year ago. i can eat and sleep perfectly normally, and i do have free time that doesn't feel guilty, and life is amazingly simple, and i like most of my homework.

it's already mid-october. i've been here well over a month, but it doesn't feel like it. at all. nope. i still feel like a newbie, like a visitor. i'm still in a shiny bubble from which everything takes on a sheen of unreality. i'm not sticking. and every once in a while - lately more often - out flies the bubble and floats wide, "the mirror crack'd from side. the curse has come upon me! cried the lady of shalott." and i start going nuts. my insides twitch. my brain twitches. and i retreat more and more into the dream world i spent so much time wandering in during high school. except now i hate that dream world, so even when i'm there, i'm fighting it, wishing i were in reality. but, as augustine points out, wishing is not the same as willing. i've got self-control, wishes, desires, dreams, but my will is weak. habits are strong, but my will is a wimp. so things don't change like i want them to. and, of course, to make a will stronger, you must use it. wishing won't help it at all. catch 22. that's me.

not to mention that i'm not contented. or at peace. i'm not awful, but i'm stagnant. not very happy with myself right now. there are times - very short ones, mind you - when i want to go back to the complete instability and angst of last year, just for something to be happening. but that's impossible. and it hurt too much. i'd rather things just get better. but i don't know what to do to fix things. what will help? what will stir up my pond so that it moves and changes and is interesting. but alas, i have no answer.

a walk of flame

just returned from a walk. i watched the sun's last flames fade out of the treetops. i felt, more than saw, the dusk settle under the trees, in the folds of the hills, and out over the flat blue water. the air chilled quietly as i walked, the bugs swarmed sporadically, and the day folded over itself as it lay down to rest.

i saw a frog, a tiny brown frog, only as long as the last joint of my pinky finger. almost 2mm long, and less wide. i have never before seen a frog that small, that brown, that delicate. i caught it, held it in my hand, watched it in the increasing dimness, and it didn't leave until i put my finger right next to it; then it jumped down to the brown ground, where it blended it almost perfectly. somehow seeing and holding that frog refreshed me. it reduces the feeling of living trapped in civilization, surrounded by busy people and white walls. i touched life today. i need to do that more often, but life cannot be conjured out of thin air. i must walk in ways where it lives, then hope that in my stillness and calmness it will allow itself to be noticed and perhaps even caught. wildness is something wonderful. it helps restore perspective; it calms, soothes and heals; it teaches and corrects.

oh, how much men praise civilization! and how they destroy wildness when they can! but a pinch of the wild is necessary to maintain tameness; a thing has no comparative value unless it is compared, unless the other alternatives are known. if a person sees, hears, knows no hint of wildness, they won't even be able to properly appreciate tameness, much less understand why or how it is important. i don't know what i'm talking about, really. but give me a touch of the wild - or more than a touch, a bucketful - give this to me in everything. don't hand me something completely tame; wildness gives the wonder, the excitement. nothing truly beautiful is thoroughly tame. that wildness co-existing with the tame is part of what makes it so wondrous. after all, there is nothing spectacular about tameness co-existing with tameness, is there? but wild and tame, crazy and sane... beauty is wild.

my soul is smiling, i think.

another weekend, another day, another pile of thoughts and feelings to coalesce into me. i'm at school this weekend - no visiting. a group of people from my dorm went to lynch park today. it's right on the ocean, so i had a chance to let waves wash over my feet and splash my legs. i walked through sand. i closed my eyes and let ocean seep into my nose and roar in my ears. it was good. there's also a sunken garden - mostly roses - enclosed by a fancy brick wall. it looked like something out of shakespeare, something i've never seen before except in books and movies and my imagination. we were there for a few hours, and the sun shone without roasting, the grass cooled without freezing, and we had smores and games (and homework) and fun. i'm very glad i went. seeing the ocean again made it worthwhile. all the other stuff just made it better.

then i had a good long phone conversation with my very own Mango, ate dinner (pizza again. sadness.), did homework, played ping-pong, walked through the halls (which were very empty and quiet. one problem with people living nearby is that they sometimes just aren't here for the weekend. it confuses me.), then cleaned some of my room. now it is getting late. but i accomplished much today - i worked, i played, i smiled and laughed, and the sun shone with a blessing. happiness in the little things.

classics...mmm

thus ends my first real weekend here. the majority of it was spent sleeping, reading, or watching stargate sg-1. i absolutely love the fact that my homework involves reading things that i would read for fun. then, today, was a meeting. and not just any meeting. it was the first meeting, ever, of the classical studies club. which is going to be awesome. it was so crazy, listening to people talk about classical studies, about latin conjugations, what the proper plural form of "toga" is and all kinds of other random things. in some ways, it reminded me of Olin. it's a group of people intensely interested and incredibly knowledgeable in an area of study that actually takes brains to understand. these are people who know latin, and greek, maybe hebrew; who study philosophy, history, literature; who are interested in anything pertaining the "classics"; anything ancient; anything that is the foundation on which our culture is built. this is stuff that i've never had an opportunity to learn, but have always been curious about. this is stuff that, the more i see, the more i want to know, to learn, to study. we're going to read some of ovid's metamorphosis every week at our meeting. and these people are cool. there's nothing like a small group of crazily interested and intelligent people in one place to make one feel at home. yum. this pleases me. hurrah for people who care about improving thought! being gadflies. i think i would really enjoy being a gadfly... at least now people aren't forced to drink hemlock.

wow it's late

and i really ought to be asleep. but i'm not. just had a very long phone conversation with my sister, and am currently waiting for my aspirin to kill my headache (while staring at a computer screen. really smart, i know. the perfect way to remove headache.). i am entering my first real weekend here, and my roommate is at a retreat. so i am by myself, with a french test to study for, and nothing else to do. come for a visit, anyone?

and life is good. got my cell phone - finally i'm up to date - and so far i've been taking pictures of monkeys. yes, monkeys. i like monkeys. and i like sleep. so why am i still awake? i'm not sure. i'm really not sure. i think i felt like typing something that the whole world could read: something insubstantial and pointless, that will benefit nobody, and possibly make no sense whatsoever.

you know what? someone needs to invent an IQ radar. that way i could tell who was smart and who wasn't, so i could find the "intellectuals" with minimum effort and social embarrassment... although it would be awkward to go up to someone and say "hi, my IQRADAR says you're a brainiac. may i be your friend?" that sounds sketchy. but it might be nice to find those smart people. there're just too many people here! i'm overwhelmed, lost in a sea of faces, and i'm not good at starting conversations. such is the story of my life. that and monkeys. and batman. and movies in which people die. and tea with honey and biscotti. and sleep. yes, sleep sounds like a good idea. when i start equating faces and monkeys and tea and death, i need sleep. so off i go... into the wild blue yonder, quoting songs i partially know...

i thank you all

thank you, Olin people! thank you for giving me an entertaining weekend, for sharing your lives with me, for welcoming me with open arms, for being so ridiculously smart, and for making me laugh. i enjoyed my weekend with you. i enjoyed the movies, discussions, meetings, construction, and general feeling of "life is insane but that's ok." you'll have to come visit me sometime. and let me know if anything extra-cool is happening that i ought to attend... (expresso? as long as it's not on a wednesday...)

life is definitely ok now. no, that's wrong. it's better than ok. it's good. i'm not even sure why; it's not that everything's great. there are annoyances, things that bother me, times i feel very alone and vulnerable. but there are also amazing moments when i feel loved absolutely, when an idea hits that is just so cool, moments when something totally random makes me smile or burst out laughing. it truly is the small things that make life good and worth living.

so thank you, Olin, for contributing to my moments of wonder and joy and laughter and randomness. thank you for loving me.

weekend fun

i sit on a couch looking out the window at olin's back parking lot. i'm here for the weekend. arrived last night. it is good to see people, and to be confused at where they're living, and to not be able to get in any buildings without someone else, and to play fuseball on a good table, and to just be here again. funny, it feels so familiar. different, yes, since many familiar faces are gone - replaced by new ones. but still familiar.

greeting people, talking with them, and mingling here, i realize that i'm not here anymore. not really. it's been long enough that i feel slightly out of place, disjointed, awkward. and some people of whom i saw a great deal while i was here i have not spoken to for months. it's like a severing, a chasm exists; two things drawn apart by the mere force of time. the only way to eliminate that gap is to fill it in by conversation, work, anything done together. so when communication is cut, a canyon grows. and now it is strange, stilted, almost like the way it was when i first met people. i say almost, because it's not quite. it's almost worse, because there's the memory of what it was, next to the obviousness that it isn't. not anymore. it's not like the opening of an old wound; it's like the scratching of a scab. that first scratch makes it itch like mad, and it takes tremendous resistance to ignore that itch and let it continue to heal. why is it that one of the primary lessons i learn when i visit olin is how complicated runs life? olin makes things crazy.

is it bad to be drawn to insanity like this?

first day of classes

so, today marked the start of a new era, a new epoch, a new life. my first day of classes here at gordon. and, lo and behold, it went well. i've got funny teachers. interesting subjects. sunshine and warmth. amazing people. who could ask for anything more?

after almost a week of rain and fog, the clouds cleared and the sun rolled out in all its majesty. it was very warm in the early afternoon. and i was sitting outside for some of it, in conversation, meeting people. i met a girl, her name is tie. and i met a guy, his name is tim and he reminds me of jeff decew, except taller, and he gave me a hug. i miss getting lots of hugs. olin, look out, i'm coming this weekend, and i'm starved for hugs. pay up, or else... i mean, please? i met other people, too. i'm slowly expanding my circle of acquaintances. but there are SO MANY dorms, so how do you find someone to eat with? hmm? tricky tricky. thus begins my sojourn into life at a real college. social life - complicated. classwork - not so much. but i did learn something today! je m'appelle suzanne. comment vous apelle vous?

busy day and wow

today was busy: boston day they called it. breakfast with a small group, then class picture, then off to boston for the afternoon. no scheduled time for lunch. i was in the group that went to the mfa, so, i have now been there! i'd like to go back another day when i have more time, and with my student id i get in free. very nice. although i must say the met is better. they have the armory. after the mfa we walked to the prudential center - another place i hadn't been to before. we didn't have much time there either, so i didn't go anywhere special. just starbucks then barnes&nobles. so i need to go back someday and go to the top. then to the T to gov't center and went to a church service at some historical church. then went to quincy market for dinner. the harbor cruise was cancelled cause the weather's been wet, but we came back here. and oh my goodness. the band they got for the cruise came here to play. apparently they're the best dance band in boston, or something like that (definitely secular songs, which amused me). and they were GOOD. i was impressed. amazing bass player and drummer. go bass! so there was a dance party thing. fun. good music. amusing people. good day.

funny thing, i've been hanging not with freshmen, but with older people (heh) who are running orientation. and i keep running into English majors! and talking to them. and finding how much i have in common with some of them. the whole not liking shopping, but adoring bookstores? yeah, very english major-ish. but it's cool. i've enjoyed getting to know people. the one thing? i think both of the people i spent the most time with today (who are both english majors and very cool) are studying away this year. grr. must find friends who will be on campus. and i really want to somehow manage to meet the physics majors (smarter people...) but things are going well. final registration is tomorrow. and i must get sleep. and WAY too many people know the words to "i want it that way" or whatever it's called. WAY too many people know ALL the words. i am scared.

back in mass

wow. so i'm back in massachusetts. land of deciduous trees and cow-path crazy roads and college. good to be here; if today is any indication, i will learn and have fun here. it's incredibly different than Olin. for one, the conversations are not even close to over my head. and there are more girls than guys. and brick buildings with no large lead panels. and clocks all over campus. i'm so glad about those clocks. it's grey and drizzly and home-like. i have the first few days here alone; my roommate arrives tuesday, i think. and i have very little stuff. so i'm living in a surreal emptiness. i think it will be good. tomorrow is relatively not busy, so hoorah for alone time. it's been too long. and i'm very tired. breakfast is early, so i have to get up. but i might take a nap later, too. or find someone to take me to the store to buy a pillow. but i'm here. and i'm safe. so all is well.

wow. good times

i just returned (on friday) from spending a week at a camp near lassen. it was wonderful. i wasn't home, it was very warm, around lots of people i'd never met before, playing volleyball, and in general having a good time. now i am back home in the slightly cold. i've only got two and a half weeks left before i head back out to boston.

life is pretty good right now.

crazy good weekend

so. i'm a bit tired of being in a car. drove -with a friend- down to williams last thursday. drove to davis and back to williams on friday. drove home on saturday. it takes about 6 hours to drive from home to williams... that's a lot of being in a car. especially when it's really hot outside. i would've died if it weren't for air conditioning. but i'm alive. it was worthwhile because i got to visit people. that was the wonderful part. and we stayed in a crazy house with lots of bedrooms and statuettes EVERYWHERE. it reminded me of the voyage of the dawn treader. c.s. lewis, narnia... the island where the monopods - aka dufflepuds - live. there was a huge mansion that lucy had to wander through. there were long hallways with closed doors lining them. the moment i entered the house in williams, that's what i thought of. dufflepuds. that crazy mansion. yup. long dark wooden hallway. quite a curious house. interesting to visit, but i think i'd go crazy if i lived there. too cluttered.

but i am safely home, and yesterday and today went well. much driving. and dog-sitting tomorrow. hurrah! time to read. alone.

pretend i wrote this yesterday... the fourth of july

all i i did today in the spirit of the holiday was watch the big fireworks at night. as usual, they were spectacular. i especially like the gold weeping willow ones. basically, i like all the gold drapy fireworks. didn't like the flash-bangs as much. i also like purple and green. but the willows are the best, especially when they're still burning when they hit the water. there were also smaller drapy gold ones that curved like evil hands; long fingers growing and reaching... i think as a small child they would have haunted me.

as it has the past few years, the fourth of july almost makes me sad. i remember when i was really little, we'd go to the beach and ooh and aah like the tourists. cause as a child, they were amazing. but then we didn't go for a few years, and when we went back... all my dreams were exploded. the firework show is at least as good, if not better, than it was when i was young, but they were so much more impressive then. my childish mind perceived the actual show as taking much more time than it really does. i thought they lasted at least a half hour, or even a full hour. that's how long it felt like. they went on forever. now, they're over so fast. i'm left wondering "was that it? was that really all there is?" and it's so deflating. it takes all the joy out of the show. it really is a nice show, but it's so much less than i expect. they're not as big or loud as i remember. they just don't impress me. perhaps i'm jaded?

i still love when the ocean lights up as bright as day, with an even brighter trail reflected from the ascent of the firework. i love when the sky is full of explosions and color falling in an arc. i still hate the smoke, the crowds. and the cold. i no longer love the small fireworks; they're so paltry, stupid, foolish, next to the big ones. and they're all show, nothing real.

sometimes i wonder if it would be better for children to be kept away from the most marvelous, beautiful things. if they never see them, they won't form such wonderful memories, and they won't be so harshly disappointed when they see them again. but perhaps, even if they've never seen them until adulthood, the wonder and awe still won't be there? perhaps then they won't even have the memories. it will all be bland and dull?

course, i would enjoy the fireworks more if i enjoyed the company more. if there was someone i wanted to be sitting next to, someone who wouldn't make snide comments, someone who i just liked being near. a great part of "going to see the fireworks" is seeing people. and if there's nobody to see, what's the point?

parties

wow. two parties in three days. not for me... one, for my sister. the other, for a friend's brother. the one for my sister... it was just a bunch of her friends (who i like very much) hanging at our house. so i got to play random games with them. this was a version of "helping with the party." granted, i also made some goodies. but still, rather a good deal. for the other, i "checked in" the arriving guests, told them where to park; mostly sat around and laughed and talked and played silly childish games with a friend; AND i got paid. and fed. good deal. especially since the sun came out and it turned into a gorgeous day. truly summer.

course, as a result of this intensive interaction with relatively large numbers of people, i'm a bit tired of them. i wish to be left alone. but i can't, cause tomorrow's sunday, and very busy, and then the fourth of july is tuesday, SO my business will continue. and my slow (or not so slow) slide towards insanity and completely blowing up at everyone will continue. must calm down. but cannot whilst buried in people. pray that i survive.

hmmm... fairlytales

anybody heard of unity valkyrie? i hadn't... she was enamoured of hitler. i'm reading a biography of her and her sisters. but my goodness, what a name. unity valkyrie. crazy. glad that's not my name.
and i want to strangle fairytales. they're not even coherent. they're the sort of thing a very optimistic person would dream. and not day-dream; night-time dream. real dreaming. maybe that's what happened... all the writers of fairytales dreamt them, then woke up and wrote it down. and the grimm brothers and hans christian andersen... maybe their stories are so weird because their food disagreed with them. someone was poisoning them, perhaps? or they took drugs... "hey, bro, look what i found!" "mushrooms! oooh, and they're purple! let's eat them!" "ok, dude. you first" next morning... "bro, i had the weirdest dream last night..."
and is it coincidence that i keep accidentally typing fairlytales instead of fairytales? fairlytales, hmmm? maybe my fingers have very small brains in them. anyway, stereotypical fairytales (the disney kind) are ridiculous. i very strongly dislike them. if a child is raised on them, how disappointed they are going to be when life slaps them across the face! and when "first sight" leads to pain and rain instead of "true love" and "happily ever after." and i'm not just bitter... all right, i'm a little bitter. but there's more to my dislike than sheer bitterness. it's opaque bitterness... no, it's just that the disney fairytales are so unreal, so wrong, such lies. i don't like lies. at all. especially when they infiltrate our consciousnesses and color our perception of the world. but, somewhere inside me, in a pocket i try desperately to crush, lives a hope - albeit small - that something like a fairytale will happen to me. you know, the dream of someone who absolutely adores you, and will battle dragons and small animals just to be with you. i admit it, i have a bit of the romantic in me. who would've guessed?

graduation!

so, my brother is officially finished, forever, with high school. my grandparents arrived, and went... but i abandoned the parental faction to wander on my own. saw (and talked to) quite a few of my old buddies - so many of us, it seems, had sibling graduating today. good to see them. reminds me, once again, that i underestimate my old high school buddies. some pretty cool people, them.
the graduation went as all do - a little boring. and long. and i didn't know all that many of the graduates. and, as always, a bunch of them snuck beach balls out, and tossed them, and lost them to the principal. every year, without fail, someone does that. don't understand. but then it finished. lalala. WARNING: Rant Following...

so, safe and sober grad night... good idea, right? but stupid planners... so, this year it started RIGHT AFTER graduation. no time for family dinners. or gifts. or anything. it started right away. and, get this, it ends at 3:00am. three o'clock in the morning!! who in their right mind would schedule a safe and sober grad night to end at three o'clock in the morning??!! who? not only is that stupid by defeating the whole purpose (keeping kids out of trouble ALL night), but then they have to drive home at 3am. of all the times to drive! so, we wait until the kids are at their tiredest, and send them out to drive in the dark! real smart. or, if the kids don't drive, their parents have to pick them up. so it's the night after graduation, and your parents have to stay up until 3am, or get up then, just to bring you home. hello?? bad planning? maybe? i was willing to stay up to bring my brother home, but we don't think siblings are permitted to pick them up. and my bro was going to call if it was ok for me to pick him up instead of mom. but... he hasn't. which probably means that they don't permit cell-phones. so all they're accomplishing tonight? creating a bunch of very tired people. and the party kids are either a)not at safe and sober, but partying, and possibly driving drunk at odd hours, cause kids here are dumb and drive when they shouldn't, or b)waiting until after safe and sober to go party, since at 3, it's still not morning yet. not exactly a situation which pleases me. or anyone i've spoken to. bad planning. bad, bad, bad. aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa

ok, Rant Ended. anyway, my sister also had a party immediately following graduation, so guess what? it was me, the parents, and the grandparents for dinner. my siblings all left me. but it wasn't too bad. and i was very happy to see some of the people i saw. very much goodness. although it was cold, cause of the wind. so i got a little chilled. but oh well. and the choir sang the song we sang umm... either my sophomore or junior year. so i knew it. and once they started singing, i realized i remembered the whole thing. which is a little creepy. after four years? i still remember it. and it's some sappy i will remember you song. it's also weird watching my brother graduate. and some of the others i knew. my last friends from choir graduated. i feel old. it brings back so many memories of things i did, and things i didn't do. wish i could go back sometimes, and actually get to know some people more. but i can't, so i'll just have to try now. and keep reminding myself that people are cool. they are my friends. and i like them. don't know exactly why, but i do. so there. tell gollum to shut up. go away, and never come back. what? i said, go away and never come back! ggggrrr GO AWAY, and NEVER come back!! yeah. so hah. peoples are our friends. nice peoples. never meant to hurt us.

oy. i think i need some sleep...

wow it's tomorrow... i'm getting old...

my brother's graduating from high school tomorrow! so strange. we've been cleaning madly all day, cause grandparents are arriving tomorrow to go to the graduation. i just cut a bunch of random stuff around the bases of the fruit trees... i love living in the country! and it's a gorgeous day, so we could open all the windows while cleaning.
it's amazing how complicated life is - even when it's simple. and how beautiful nature is. i must admit that, as much as i like snow, it's so much better to have everything green and nice. and the cherries are ripening on the trees. and apples are forming. the wild roses are bright and pink. the wisteria is no longer blooming - now its leaves canopy the arbor in shadows. since the tractor was broken, and we couldn't mow the lawn, each time the wind gusts across the clearing, clouds of pollen blow up and cover everything. but dad just fixed the tractor, so next week we'll mow.
and i still remember the greek alphabet! yay! i actually memorized something! this makes me happy. (alpha beta gamma delta epsilon zeta eta theta iota kappa lambda mu nu xi omicron pi rho sigma tau upsilon phi chi psi omega)
and my sword arrived yesterday. so i got to show it off; it made my family smile. they like it. more importantly, i do to. i have a ninja sword! now i just need a costume... and i will be sneaky. and i will be quiet and swift. and the world will drop into silence. just me and the trees... just me and the shifting shadows...

ice cream sandwich

i was writing a rant in a journal this afternoon. it was going quite well; thoughts were flowing, getting out. then dad interrupted to ask if i wanted an ice cream sandwich. of course i did. so i stopped writing to eat. and after, the rant just wasn't there anymore. it's impossible to rant just after eating an ice cream sandwich. they make everything smiling inside, especially when the sun is shining too. yum.

june 14th!

w00t! my parents have now been married for 26 years. such a strange thought. i was at home alone most of the day, since dawn's down in socal, so i did the most fun & useful thing i could think of: laundry! so good to get it done... and to not have to pay. then i got a phone call from an olin friend (thanks, liz!) and that just made my day. so good to talk to someone. (hint, hint... call me, people, if you have time!) it's misting again, so it's a little grey in the skies. but the greens are so clean and bright when it mists. and mom made cookies last night. oh, and i should never watch a movie about crazy people again. it's way to easy to start acting insane, especially after seeing people getting away with it. sane and sober - those are the influences i need.

and, golly, it's so weird when you hear of people not much older than you getting married. makes me wonder: is there something odd about me, that i'm no closer to marriage than i've ever been? and i know people younger who already have what, 2, 3 kids! i feel old. if i'm doomed to be an old maid, i hope these feelings wear out quickly... grrr...

about thursday

thursday i went to the high school's spring choral concert. the experience felt rather surreal. after all, two short years ago, i was one of those well-dressed students singing my heart out for the audience. now, i'm watching. not participating. to add to this feeling of detachment, this was the first choir concert i've heard since i graduated. so i went from in choir, to two years on the opposite coast, to sitting and listening. all this was made even stranger by the fact that they sang one of the songs we sang my sophomore year - when david heard. it's a gorgeous piece - the kind that gives shivers and pulls off your skin. love it. but... the high school choir had between 24 and 26 members, and... there are 18 parts in a few sections. it's the only song i've ever seen with 18 parts. it's this wonderful, huge tone cluster that sounds awful unless done by human voices. of course, the pitches must be perfect for it to ring correctly. and i know that song. not only did i sing it four years ago, but i have a very good recording of it (BYU concert choir, i think) which i've listened to quite a bit since then. so now, when i hear david, i hear it done perfectly - the right pitches, great blend. although i do like lindy's directorial interpretation better... so when madrigals sang david on thursday, it was painful. the first two chords were off... so it started badly. most of the normal 8-part sections they did ok on. but they had issues with timing and pitch, and that sort of thing really bothers me. i'm afraid i'd rather have a choir not blend, but hit the correct pitches than the other way around. this year's choir blends well. i grant them that. my choir didn't - we had too many people with solo voices who just didn't blend. but i think we had more people capable of holding their own pitch, against pitches only a half step or one whole step away. (the tone cluster starts on the A at the bottom of bass clef... goes to the D above it, then the E right next to that, then F, G, A, Bb, C, D, E, F, G, A, Bb, C,
D, E, and ending on F in the first sopranoes.) in my choir, both first soprano notes (E and F) were hit. in this choir... the top note was missing every dang time. it drove me crazy. that note is more important than the E, especially since the cluster resolves to a chord with that F on top. grrr. i don't actually know how my choir sounded singing this piece, but i know this choir did
NOT do it justice. for a high school choir, it was impressive... but in all honesty, what high school choir - especially one from a public county high school of under 1000 students - can be expected to do justice to a piece of this caliber? it's by eric whitacre, whose stuff is crazy to begin with, and when david heard is possibly the most difficult piece i have EVER seen. and that's saying something - i've seen a lot. so anyway, i was disappointed by that song... but they did a good job on cloudburst (another whitacre piece, in spanish), probably partly cause they've been singing it so long. and the harmonies are easier. and o sifuni mungu sounded great. the soloes at the beginning were especially good (and no, i'm not saying this just because my brother was one of them). so basically, david was the only piece they biffed. and there's no way they could've done it convincely anyway. with 18 parts for over 8 long measures, if only one person is on a part, they must breath, so they can't get the continuity. but, one good thing, the sopranoes got their top high C very well. that was good.

then afterwards, it was the standard denny's run. i got roped into coming by a couple people from my year... it went ok. but there's nothing like watching and hearing a group of kids very loudly enjoying themselves to make you feel left out and lacking in any social life. yar. i miss seeing people every day. i need to call people more...

but things are ok now. i've got the first season of lost, which i'm going to watch. haven't seen any of it, but it sounds interesting. we'll see what i think. life goes on...

beachness

went to the beach this evening... got there right after the sun had set, so got to see the beautiful colors. chilled out with some high school friends... one's headed to nepal tomorrow. good talks...
but right as i got there, oh it was beautiful. my muse called me, so i just sat in my car for awhile. the following is part of what came out:

color and smoke and the sound of the sea
piling and leading to eternity
the cold and the wind sing over the waves
smelling of salt run the nights and the days
sand falls and shifts under hazy blue skies
rocks, eaten slowly, meet every sun's rise
footprints are melted beneath a bright moon
driftwood is molded by stormy waves' tune
all this meets here at the edge of the sea
where past, present, future, meet eternity

thar it is. in other news, i am growing increasingly fond of the Lord of the Rings - both books and movies, and at this rate, i'm frightened to think what i might be this time next year. don't worry, though. i'm not obssessed. and never will be. color and smoke. life is all colors and smoke...

EXTREME HAPPINESS

Riding on a calypso high... Cannot quite think of words to adequately describe how happy I am right now...

Just came back from the high school's spring band concert. Stage, Steel, and Concert bands performed. The performances were great... Stage was rockin' - Cruisin for a Bluesin is one hot piece, and I love Birdland. Concert played a PDQ Bach piece, which, true to form, was hilarious and ridiculous. Loved it. Listening to Steel was, as always, rather weird. Especially since they played both Mars and Hoedown, and I played both those... But they did a good job. I just can't be satisfied with listening to them.

Then came the end of the show... Steel always closes informally... the second cello player WASN'T there. So... I played. We played some songs I knew... After two years, it's amazing how quickly my hands remember where everything is. Oh, goodness... I LOVE Steel Band. It's the most fun group in ever to play with... I miss it so much. Playing with them just made my day, my evening... It doesn't just make me happy; it makes me more complete. It heals my insides. Playing Little Sunflower refreshes me. So glad I went. So glad the cello player let me play. So glad David chose pieces I knew. So glad. So happy. My best memories of high school are connected to steel... Right now, even though it's raining, my world is nearly perfect. I'm so happy I want to cry. Beauty and joy come in the most unexpected, simple ways... My insides are smiling so hard it hurts.

AAAAAHHH!!

Wow, so Sunday has passed, and apparently Olin's first commencement went just fine, but I wasn't there so I'll have to trust those who were there. I'm sad I missed it.

Yesterday we had a "party" here, and I played badminton for over 4 hours, practically non-stop. Oh what fun. I need to do that more often.

Today's blah. I miss people. I want at least nine hugs (from nine different people) before I go to bed, but that's impossible. So I'm sad.

I need something to do that will invariably cheer me up...

suzuki

aahh! my sister's practicing the accompaniment for a suzuki string recital. oh, golly. it brings back such painful memories; i recognize every single song she's playing... and it's been so long that i feel old. ouch. remember perpetual motion? such a boring song; played that for my first violin recital.

and i've just discovered writing backwards on aim. interesting.

olin's first class is graduating on sunday... so weird. and i won't be there to see it. to olin seniors who read this: i love you all! big hugs! and go make the world a better place. to non-olin seniors, tell the seniors how awesome they are... and generally make their graduation the best ever. and big hugs to you, too! somebody send me pictures...

impressive ugliness

i have found the UGLIEST female EVER. this painting inspires revulsion; find at your own risk. honestly, i never dreamed anyone could look this hideous; i hope it wasn't modeled after a real person. it's the ugly duchess painted by quintin matsys. tenniel used her as his model for the ugly duchess in alice in wonderland. she's horrid. she looks like a really ugly man. uggh. i don't think even a mother could love a child like this. and i'm pretty sure that even bad eye-sight wouldn't be enough to render this duchess agreeable in appearance.

i think the ugly duchess defines ugly. yechh.

very random

first job interview tomorrow morning. hope it goes well.

found a bunch of books i've been looking for... decent libraries (and good ones) make me smile.

i don't sing much anymore. went to the beach today with dawn and jeanne joe; it was misty and cool and grey and the waves were beautiful. beaches are rather introspective. got me thinking. about singing, for some reason. and i don't sing anymore. i'm not in choir, but even apart from that, i used to sing for fun. but i don't now. it seems - or so i have decided - that i take no pleasure in singing. i do not enjoy hearing myself sing (i never really have...), so i don't sing to hear myself. and i have nobody to sing for. no reason to sing. i am surrounded by people whose voices i would much rather listen to. and singing no longer brings release. i think i dislike my voice too much for it to bring release. so i do not sing for myself. and there is no one else to sing for. so, i don't sing anymore. this makes me a little sad inside. i belong on a grey and misty beach with roaring waves and dimpled sand and cliffs and rough rocks, with birds screaming at each other. i should be walking alone this lonely beach, all alone.

more recording

so, we're going to record some more. on monday, we're headed back to eureka. hopefully we'll finish all 2 or 3 songs... last time we took all day to record 1 song. yeah, recording's amazingly time-consuming. but it should be good. it will be fun. and i'm going to ask if i can play one of the basses at the store... maybe the one with the really long fingerboard. mmm.

in othe news... you know when you hear something that turns your world inside out? the sort of thing you NEVER expected to hear, that hurts so much inside? much as i've conditioned myself to not be surprised by any "bad" news, or fresh reminder of human failings, it still bothers me. i still feel like my stomach is wrenched and twisted. especially because of reminders of the past, of my own failings. of the things i'm still too ashamed of to tell people about. and the perpetual thought: it could've been me. and what would i have done about it? agony. why are such awful, inexplicable things permitted to happen even to people with the best and purest intentions? why?

but at least it reminds me: love truly forgives. how refreshing that is! how could i survive otherwise? love trusts, hopes, perseveres... and even though those breakings hurt, love remains. and it's not the end of the world.

it frightens me. as much as i have already been broken, in some things i am still whole. as much as i have hurt, have wept, have given up, i've always been left with something, no matter how small. how would i respond if everything were taken? what would i do if the unbrokenness in my life were snapped into pieces? i just hope this never happens to me. who would sustain me?

*almost* rant

Whee! I've been accepted by Gordon College, so look out Boston - I'm coming back! And I've got some job apps turned in, so I'm waiting, hoping to hear from someone. And people are coming home for the summer. And the weather's still sunny. And the wisteria's still blooming. Dad and I just made cookie dough (not cookies - just dough) to eat. So things are going well.

I've been thinking a little about what makes something important to me, or what makes me care about something or someone. First of all is the typical reason: familiarity. If I'm around something or someone for a long time (example: my family), I get fond of them. It's like C.S. Lewis' definition of "affection." It has to do with becoming accustomed to a thing. It becomes a part of life as I know it, and if it was (or is) suddenly taken away, I realize I cared quite a bit. This even goes for things I try to ignore, or even actively dislike. Take, for example, my brother's goose. While I was here before school, I didn't like it. The goose is, quite simply, annoying. It won't shut up, ever. And it gets in the way, and is rather temperamental. But when I left home, I found myself actually *gasp* missing that stupid bird. I didn't like having it there, but having it not there? That was worse. And now that I'm back home, I don't mind it so much. He also just so happens to be mellowing with age... no more random charges or hissing fits. But I think I actually like that bird. If I can get this attached to a ridiculously annoying creature, how much more attached could I become to something pleasant, if it was always around? Scary thought.
The other main reason I've discovered for my "attachment" to things has to do with thoughts. Even if I've seen it only once, if I dwell on it, think about it constantly, or talk about it a LOT, I develop an attachment of sorts. I may even never see it again, but I still have this strange connection. Creepy, in a way. The biggest problem with this arises in the difference between expectation and reality. When I think so much about one thing, it develops in my mind. Its definition tends to become twisted. The less I actually know of it beforehand, the more it changes in my head. Then, if I see it again, I get thrown off-balance, because it's not at all what I thought it was. I get confused, frustrated, and think more in an attempt to identify what went wrong. I change the definition to be more closely aligned with reality, but inevitably, if I don't see it often, my definition wanders. But even with these disappointments in my accuracy, the act of meditating, if you will, on the object (or person) deepens my attachment to it. This is particularly dangerous if I don't want to like or be attached to it. The connections happens practically without my consent. It's rather frustrating. My mind does not wait for my consent before it does things. (I wonder why this is? Any neurological explanation? Or am I just, once again, imagining things?)
The worst attachments develop when there's some sort of combination of these two things: familiarity and thinking. If I'm around something quite often AND I'm thinking about it too much, well, things get complicated. In these cases, the best way too lessen my attachment is to stop thinking so much. Lessening how much or how often I see it doesn't affect this as much. I'm not sure why. I guess what I dwell on really is important. Very important. Oh, and one good affect familiarity has: it helps keep my mental definition accurate. It can limit exactly how much and what I can think about the item (or person). Of course, the extent to which this limits my imagination is dependent on how mysterious the person is to me; or how easy it is for me to read (correctly) their character.
And this, unfortunately, is difficult for me. I'm really bad at "reading" people. I like them to actually say things. Otherwise, I get confused. Or I just remain entirely ignorant. So basically, I need to learn to "take captive every thought" and not dwell on one thing or one person or one event. Must. Learn. Brain. Control.

random things

Yesterday, I drove the tractor. Dad needed some logs pulled out of the brush. I enjoy driving the tractor. It's really slow, but open, so you can see everything, and feel the breeze (and the mosquitoes), and it made me smile. For some reason, working out in the woods makes me think of Star Wars.

MJ's home! Yay! And she and Aile and Dawn and I are planning to put on a vocal workshop for some high-schoolers. Hopefully enough will do it to make it monetarily worth-while. I've also discovered that more of my friends will be here this summer than I initially thought. So hopefully, I'll have people to chill with.

A not-so-happy news item: I won't make it out to Olin's commencement. I'm really sorry, seniors; I really wanted to go. But I can't afford it. Neither I nor my family has any money to spend on plane tickets out there. I already owe my parents for my visit earlier. But I do have the date marked, and I will be thinking of you.

I discovered "Gollum's Song" last night. It's in the credits of Two Towers. I love it; so dark and dismal and lonely and bitter and beautiful. It's odd how even twisted and dank and shadowed things can appear beautiful, can still touch the insides of me. Maybe I'm morbid. Maybe I just like Gollum cause he amuses me.

The wisteria's blooming. Our yard is a sea of tall living green; I love long grass! And beef. Ooh, beef is good!

good weekend... I LOVE STEEL!!

Oh my goodness!! So lucky am I. So blessed. So amazing. Saturday my brother and I went down to HSU for a concert called: Master of the Steel Drum. Oh, man. It was the HSU calypso (steel) band - which is actually really good - and three guests. Liam Teague (called the Paganini of the Pan, cause he's just that good and that fast and insane and yeah, wow.), Cliff Alexis (the guy who made my high school's pans), and Ray Holman (practically the best composer for pans). All three guys have either written pieces for or been in the Panorama competition. If you don't know what Panorama is, you're not a steel fan. And you're missing out. It's the international steel band competition, held every year in Trinidad, the birthplace of the pan. So anyway, these three amazing players were there, and they played, and I was blown away. Liam played Cryin', and oh golly... The concert was over 2.5 hours, but totally worth it. Wonderful music, wonderful musicians, decent seats, and our tickets were a gift (which means free). What a concert.

I LOVE STEEL PANS!! I miss playing SO much. I wish pans were cheaper so I could buy one, and make a band to play random music, especially calypso. Back in high school, some of use talked about getting together a band and playing on cruise ships. If only I could find instruments and people, I would be totally willing to do that. It's horribly impractical, though. Sadness. But Saturday made me happy.

Then yesterday I spent the afternoon in a hammock by the river, basking in the sun. So good. So warm, and relaxing. It's good to have friends who live on the river.

And today I cut brush for over an hour. Also good.

So in the past few days, I've got my music, my sun and relaxation, and my destruction. It's all good now.

And my cousin's coming to visit soon... and bringing the RX-8, which he'll probably let me drive - in the redwoods, curvy roads - which will be a blast.

as promised...

...I am now back home in sunny Nor-Cal, after a fantastic, busy, tiring, but totally worthwhile trip to Boston and Texas. Olin people - it was marvelous to see you all again. You are some of my favoritist people in the whole world. I must say suprising you was entertaining; so many double-takes and squeals!

It's rather odd being home again, and realizing that, no matter how much I fought it, this is still home. Happy as you all were to see me, I can't help notice that that's not my life anymore, that there's a connection missing since I'm no longer 0wned by schoolwork. And there's no way for me to stay completely in touch with people, since I'm so far away, and you're all so busy. So much has changed - mostly little things - since I was there last. But I still care so much about you people! I wish there was more I could do to make your lives better, I wish I were better at showing what I think and feel. I owe so much to my time at Olin; so much to all you people who were friends. Please don't forget me. I know I'll never forget you.

Thanks for showing me how fun and wonderful life is!

my flowers died while i was gone

dead flowers wilting
sad flowers drooping
dead flowers bending their heads in the dark

dead flowers drying
sad flowers browning
dead flowers weeping alone in the dark

dead flowers falling
sad flowers shrinking
dead flowers rotting while joining the dark

OLIN!!

Yay! Guess where I am? Sitting in East Hall... Came to visit all my Olinoid buddies and watch the play (which was funny, I must admit). It's wonderful to see people again. I'm glad I'm here. I'll probably write more when I get home... possibly some deep reflections on life, comparing that at home to that at Olin... but for now, I'm just going to enjoy my time here. Whee!

SPRING!!

It is most definitely, emphatically, beautifully spring. The very air smells of freshness, of flowers, of awakening, of LIFE. And the past few days we've had sun. Not the hiding, shy kind either. It's been bold and bright and warm. New growth is finally appearing on the tips of the tree branches. The grass defines green. Oh! how wonderful spring is!
Dad and Debbie and I took a stroll through the woods yesterday, now that the ground isn't quite as damp. What a time of refreshment! I live in an absolutely gorgeous place! I love the smell of new growth and dampness and rotting vegetation... Not sure why, but I do.
The wild onion patch along the road is bursting into bloom, so I walked down to pick some. Now they decorate both the table downstairs and my desk. Wild onion smells fresh, and bright, and young, and somehow like laughter. And the blossoms - so small and white - are pleasing to the eye as well.
I've played badminton the last two or three days. It's so fun! And the sun is warm, and I love getting more exercise. I've discovered that I crave healthier food when I exercise. I think our bodies know what nutrition we need. And it's just good to be out-of-doors again.
Wow. There's a spider in its web just outside my window. It just grabbed a gnat in its mouth and carried it off. The swallows have arrived. A couple garter snakes live by the wall. Dawn's found some lizards, too. And so many frogs! They love the pond. Thankfully, so far there aren't many mosquitoes. Just other bugs, reptiles, amphibians, and birds.
So life right now is good. The earth and everything in it rejoices.

rar.

Yesterday, the sun shone, the rain stopped, and all was good. But I was inside, so I missed all but the sunset. We were recording yesterday. It went quite well. I look forward to hearing the final mix. Hurrah for playing bass! I keep being reminded of how much I love playing in a band. Playing music with others is just so amazingly fun! Music keeps me sane, and if it's going to be live, unless the performers are wonderful (and are playing songs I don't know) I'd rather be playing it than listening. I need to make sure I can find people to play with when I leave.

I was just thinking about cool things that happen to people. It seems they find something they know they want, and they work as hard as is necessary to achieve that. Cool things don't seem to happen to me, and I think I know why. It's because a) I don't know what I want, and b) I'm not very willing to work hard to get something that I don't want. If I knew what I wanted to achieve, but was just being lazy about getting there, then I could just scold myself and actually try. But I don't even know what I want! And I dislike putting huge amounts of effort into something I care nothing or very little about. So what do I want?

There are only two things I can think of right now that I really want: 1) a really good guy friend (who I can talk with, hang out with, play music with...), and 2) to go to Europe (and not on a whirlwind tour; I want to take my own sweet time, visiting small villages, and beautiful places). And neither of these are currently within my reach.

It's Over!

Today we performed for the last time! Hurrah! Much as I enjoyed playing... oy vey. I'm glad it's over. My weekends are free once again. Hopefully, time will soon remove the songs stuck on repeat in my head. Now I'm suddenly more free. I can do things! Oh, wait. But there's nothing to do. Botheration.

But it's all good. Tomorrow, our "band" records. That'll be fun. And after that, we'll see.

The internet says I belong in Amsterdam. I found that amusing. I found some random survey-ish things. And took a bunch, cause I had time. So, I belong in Boston, I am creepy (!?), my superhero name is The Living Bat, my hair ought to be white, I'm root beer, snickers, and lightning, I would be an emo rocker, I'm more boyish than girlish (not terribly surprising), I should be a poet, I'm meatball pizza, I'm phlegmatic, I ought to take up bobsledding, and I ought to drive a Saturn Sky (looked it up... although it's pretty, I still would prefer to drive an RX-8).
Yeah, I had time. I amused myself. Some of the results were hilariously ridiculous. Others were frighteningly accurate.

But now, to sleep.

good vs great

I've been thinking about poetry, art, and music, or collectively, Art. It seems to me that an inundation of mediocre Art has diluted and dimmed our ability to appreciate - even distinguish - the differences between good Art and great Art.
Most people can tell if something's bad Art - that's not difficult. And even mediocre Art is usually recognizable. But what about good Art? What defines good? If a painting's lines are true, its colors are right, and all the details are just as they should be, it's good. Or if it's unique in topic or color or style, as long as it's well-executed, it's good. But even if all the details are just right, it's not necessarily great.
The same goes for music. If all the parts fit as they should, if it's playable, then it's good. For poetry, if the lines and words mesh as they were meant to, it's good. And for all forms of Art, if a piece is well-constructed, if to appearances it's just right, then it's good. But it isn't great.
For Art to be great, it must transcend all the lines and notes and words. If one views a painting that is good, one enjoys the viewing, and might even desire many more. But if the painting is great, one can barely leave. One is drawn, almost inexplicably, to it. If a work is good, reasons can be given: the colors are brilliant, the lines sing, it looks or sounds real... But the line which separates good from great defies explanation.
When one attempts to give reasons for the greatness of Art, one finds oneself at a loss for words. Why is that painting so great? I cannot tell. Why does one love listening to that aria over and over? One does not know. Why does the reading of that poem stir one so? It cannot be explained. Great Art changes the observer. Good Art merely upholds previous notions. Great Art touches something deep inside one, makes one cry or laugh or feel able to conquer all. Or it leads one to quietly sit and think. But to be great, it must touch one. Somehow. Good Art affects the surface, the logic of a person. Great Art reaches inside, beyond the logic, beyond the sense, beyond one's reasons, to affect something else.
Good Art is merely beautiful, nothing more. That which leaves one with joy, with sorrow, with longing, with questions - that is great. Art which can be defined is not great. Art which can be ignored is not great. Art which leaves an indelible mark inside its viewer (or listener or reader) - that Art which transcends - that is great.
And that which is great is that which cannot be explained or expressed. Great Art is beyond, or above, my feeble attempts to explain. Good Art is pretty. Great Art just is. And one never can say more.

opening night

It was opening night. It began well - the audience crowded, instruments tuned and ready, actors warmed up and waiting. It ended well - the audience stood, the orchestra played their hearts out, the actors bowed.

But the middle? The play was well-executed. A couple of forgotten lines, but nothing worse. The orchestra, in the words of a fan "rocked." Small riffs were heard that are sometimes forgotten. So the performance? It went well - except for a couple incidences, such as the drummer showing up so drunk he could barely walk. After a couple songs, he fell of his stool, and had to sit out the rest of the first act. We (the rest of the orchestra members) were NOT happy when he walked in. Poor guy. Hopefully he won't show up that drunk tomorrow.

As usual, just performing gave me a bunch of extra energy. But my part wasn't difficult enough to use that energy, so during intermission I was twitchy. I wanted to do something with my hands, but wasn't sure exactly what. And at the end, I knew so few people. I'm accustomed to seeing more people I could talk with, but no so luck.

So with all the twitchiness and there being no one around... I started wanting to destroy something. Shred, rip, slash, anything. I had to repress the urge to find someone to punch really hard. Not that there was anyone there I knew well enough to punch... When I got home, I was still in that destructive mood. I wanted to wreck something, trash something, break or burn or crush. That mood hasn't completely passed - I still want to strangle something. And I'm listening to my angry-ish hardcore-ish music. But as this desire for ruination passes, it is replaced by great melancholy. I feel like crying. Ahhh! I need Olin hugs!!

This is why I should never be a professional performer.

orchestra and the little people

Opening night's tomorrow. Tonite was a pseudo-performance; eighth graders comprised our audience. It went well - they laughed, they clapped. The orchestra's coming together. We're finally figuring out where everything goes, and when, and how. According to all reports, we sound good.

I think I've figured out why I love being in the orchestra so much. I'm one of those strange all-or-nothing creatures when it comes to the attentions of others. If I can't be the center, I prefer the invisible. If I ever was in a play, I wouldn't be content to be Townsperson, or Officer #2. I'd want to be a lead. Or nothing. Or backstage. Or better yet, the orchestra. It's absolutely necessary for the success of a musical, but you don't focus on it. In fact, many overlook it. You can hear the results of my labor, but me? You ignore me. As far as you, the audience, knows, I don't exist. And that's just how I like it. Either give me real attention, or don't even look at me. But, I must do something. And make it something useful, for goodness sakes. I love the feeling of doing something absolutely critical, but not being noticed by anybody. It's like: "I just made this possible, but nobody knows it. No one will disturb my peace with comments or criticisms; they'll just enjoy what they see without thinking about who made it possible. Yes. Another proof to myself of the worth of my existence." Is this a normal perspective? Are most people all or nothings? Maybe I'm the victim of a strange psychosis. Maybe, deep inside me, is an attention-loving extrovert. Maybe I'm just kidding myself, and what I really think is something entirely different. But I don't think so. I think it's partly the result of years of feeling wallflower-ish. I'd rather be invisible than seen but passed over. If I am seen, I want to actually be seen, not just glanced at. See me, not just my surface. Or don't bother even looking. I'm not even sure if I'm making sense, or if this is justified; but it's how I feel most of the time. I've always felt sorry for extras in movies or plays - exactly who they are matters not one jot. All that matters is that a person is standing there to provide a backdrop for the main, the real characters. Ah, well. This is why I'm in the orchestra. And a major reason for why I've never auditioned for a real play. If I was handed a little part, I'd probably reject it. And let's face it, the chances of me getting a real part are next to nil. So orchestra on.

Besides, what is life without music?

just got back from the first run-through of fiddler. eek. it went ok. it'll be good come performance, but right now? it's almost funny.

yesterday i went with mom and dawn to grants pass... going over the mountains it snowed a little. there was already quite a bit of snow on the trees. there is nothing so serenely, coolly, expectantly beautiful as evergreen trees under snow. it was gorgeous. made me happy. and i found a dave brubeck cd (for those who don't know, he's a jazz pianist), and it's amazing. it's got a couple songs i've played before (take five, and blue rondo a la turk), and it's neat to hear the originals. yay for good jazz!

something i wrote about the snowy trees and mountains:
it's like the baker in the sky shook sifted sugar over everything.
the ground is dusted with it, the trees are gilded with it.
the tops and tips of the branches glow with their white sugar-frosting.
i wanted to eat the trees - they looked so good. and there were waterfalls, which i adore... this place is beautiful. it really is.

random writings of my past...

got it! (frail, that is) yay.
it's still raining here. ach, such is life. but music makes things better.
something i found in one of my random journal-ish things:

i'm leaving for a place/ where topaz orbs glittering/ drop down
i'm headed to a time/ where lilac blooms heavily/ waft up
i'm fleeing to a land/ where great green arms listlessly/ wave by
lonely as a simple summer/ twilight on the/ long and twisted banks/ of a stream.

i'm not sure what year this was... i think it's from 2004. it's funny, i would write it differently now. but just above it was a phrase i still actually like: "add topaz to golden amber, that glorious lexicon of the divine fires smoldering bright". i'm not sure what exactly it means, but it sounds cool.

another thing i found (this from march of 2004): "death either gilds or burns. the good seems divine; the bad, diabolical." interesting. from what i've seen, this holds true. how often do we actually remember the humanness of those who have passed on? we remember wonderful or horrible things, but what about those everyday, normal things that truly defined the person?

here's something i wrote when i first visited boston, in june of 2004: "emerald green/ golden amber on fire/ tears of a phoenix/ smiles of the setting sun." i think i liked the phrase "golden amber." not sure why i mentioned a phoenix' tears. odd, how i feel like the phoenix is weeping now. and the sun is setting; but some perversity in its nature makes it smile as it falls. how often it is with humans! even as they choose to fall, choose to go down in fire, they insist on smiling, on pretending all is good and they're ok. this is why, i think, i've always be wary and mistrustful of people who are always happy.

interesting distinction between words: 'mistrustful' means to ''not trust' to any degree... to have doubts about motives,' while 'distrustful' means to completely regard with suspicion, ie, to have 'no faith' at all. slight difference, but cool! i love words!

frail. now. please.

i need it. please. anybody. the song frail, by jars of clay. it's been running through my head ALL day, and i don't have it, and i can't find it. and it's eating me up inside, and will until i hear the whole thing. i found lyrics, tab, and a guitar, but i don't remember it well enough to play it. ideas, anyone? please? i love the song; must hear it; must must must. oh golly, it's ridiculous how much i need to hear it. it's just a song, right. not right. to me, music is a complicated, many-splendored thing. it keeps me going, moving, living, breathing, loving. i NEED it. and right now, this song is what i need to hear. oh golly. i'm repeating myself now, so i'll stop. but please, can anyone give it to me?

loser

...it was like a train, mountain, then CRASH! it all kinda died. it's always amusing to me when we're playing along, and suddenly we all just stop in confusion, all at once. oh, i love playing in a band!

so, in my attempt to be "useful" and entertain my family, i've been playing random games with them whenever someone's bored. and the weird thing... i ALWAYS lose. it doesn't matter what i'm playing, or with who. i play crazy 8's, i lose. rummy, i lose. hearts, i lose, but that's not surprising, cause i don't count cards or even try to do well; i just play cards. and i played four games of chutes and ladders today (yeah, i know it's a children's game, but it's brainless), and guess what? i lost. every game. and i didn't barely lose... i lost BADLY. i don't understand. perhaps it's just that the other people i'm playing with need encouragement? but it doesn't make sense. as soon as i try to help... i don't particularly mind losing, but when you lose time after time? it starts wearing you down. it just does. there's not much you can do to prevent that. so i'm confused. yarr.

pretty!

it snowed again today. a sad snow, which fell far too quickly and melted as soon as it touched the ground. but for here? impressive. and it was pretty as it fell. the downside to this "snow" is the cold... it's been in the low thirties and high twenties... keep in mind it's extremely humid, so it's really hard to stay warm. but it's ok.

MJ's back in town, so we'll be having a regular visitor for a while; that'll add more laughter and cheerfulness and red hair. Yay!

And I had some encouraging talks (not literally talks since they were online... types?) last night, so I'm feeling better. Although I could still use some good, stimulating company. Oh, well. Such is life.

so mediocre

it's raining again. tried to snow this morning, so it's cold. and this week has been absolutely blah. i'm suddenly very lonely and bored and frustrated, and watching fiddler on the roof DOES NOT help. but fiddler continues for the next few weeks, so it will continue to make me think unhappy thoughts. but the music is fun...

a thought: which is better, love or life? i am at an impasse. for life is made worthwhile by love, but love is made possible by life. so which is better? which would you rather have?

help, people! come visit! say hi... anything. i'm rather tired of living at the moment; there just doesn't seem to be anything to live for. yeah, this is a rather blue day. blue moment, blue feelings... need something happy. need something cheerful. need something worthwhile. yarrr.

I heart bass.

I heart steel drums.

All the rest is background noise.

"She wanted to climb, but dreaded the fall..."

There's an old song - She Didn't Say Yes (ella fitzgerald) - that's got crazy funny sad lyrics. The chorus ends "she didn't say yes, she didn't say no. She didn't say stay, she didn't say go... she did just what you'd do too." It's interesting to listen to it, then try to answer what you'd do in her place.

Carpet makes a huge difference in the sound of a room! Oh goodness. They tore up all the carpet at church (we're getting new carpet in a few weeks) so the sounds echo horribly. We sounded so muddy at practice tonite! But it's ok, cause my fingers are surviving bass admirably.
I've discovered that I can't read sad books anymore - or at least I really don't like to. If any character I even remotely like dies, grrr. It's so weird, cause I used to read murder mysteries all the time. And didn't care if characters in other books got injured, or sick, or died, or disappeared, or had their hearts broken. But now? I don't like reading about misfortune, especially if it's permanent. I never used to even feel remotely like crying when reading books, no matter what happened. That's no longer the case. Maybe I'm more emotional. Maybe my emotions are just closer to the surface, more accessible. Maybe I've just been through some of those situations, and it hurts to be reminded. I'm not sure what it is, but it spoils the innocent pleasure I used to find in reading everything and anything. Argh. I wish I knew what to think of this phenomenon. I wish I knew why it keeps occuring. I wish I knew if I will outgrow it, or if I'm permanently tainted. I wish I knew a lot of things.

But life is going fairly well. Storms clear my melancholy. They blow away the fog in my mind. They fill my heart with fresh, stirring air. And even fallen trees smell good when you drive past. I love living on the coast!

Water drips past my windows, singing to my tired soul

Had an Act 1 run through orchestra plus actors tonight. It was rough; hopfully in the next three weeks it'll all get better. It's fun to be in an orchestra again. And wow, once again, Beth is amazing. Even though I've seen her act before, each time I see her again I am impressed. She's capable of making me cry. Yay for talented friends!

It's raining again. Surprise. Ha. But I don't mind. Oh, Oh! T3h m05t r0x0r n3w5 3v4r! w00t! I get to go to the Steel Band Night at HSU in April... see Liam Teague and some other cool dude. AND... If our band opens, I'll get to play with them! One member is going to prom instead of the concert (Can't imagine why. Amazing steel bands vs prom? No brainer. Steel. Of course.) so I'll learn her part! It's double seconds, so I'll be learning another instrument at the same time. And I've missed playing steel soo much; it'll be wonderful to play again. Especially if I get to perform too! Oh, Steel Band, how I love thee! ::insert me dancing wildly here::

Bad news is that my cold seems to be travelling into the back of my sinuses and is making my ears feel weird. Don't want an ear infection. Grr. But it doesn't really inhibit my ability to do things, so that's good.

Wow, just read through comments on my blog. To Hoss, I say: yeah, I miss you, too. Even after how you treated me. :-P You should travel up here some time after the rain stops... see the trees you mocked me for admiring. Got a couple other comments that were encouraging. Yay! Comment away, people. It maketh my soul to rejoice.

People call rain the tears of God. They call it liquid sorrow. They associate it with dreariness, darkness, worries, boredom, and death. Such misunderstanding! I call rain the elixir of God. I call it liquid health. I associate it with loveliness, light, freedom, activity, and life. Have you ever seen the diamonds cast in shimmering arrays from a raindrop watched by the sun? Have you ever observed drops sitting peacefully on a leaf or spiderweb? Have you ever watched rain's careless abandon as it rushes towards the warm earth? Have you ever noticed its moods? How it patterns the ground like an artist? How, even after the surface has been reached, it continues on, flowing and laughing along? Have you ever stood in the rain, lifting your face and hands to its gentle touch, and been refreshed, invigorated? Rain wipes one clean. It washes away the stain, the guilt, and leaves only peace and cleanness. Rain is forgiveness. Rain is peace. Rain is rebirth. It is beautiful. How can you say otherwise?

urgle

so apparently i must write out less than three. what i meant in the previous post was: i less than three music. but it hates me. and it didn't work. oh well. i think it ignored an entire sentence. cause i know i mentioned arturo sandoval, and tower of power, and a couple other musicians/groups whose music i want. for instance, i want to find a great jazz tenor saxophonist. can't think of any off the top of my head, but i'd like to find one.

it's all stormy here - the wind blows hard. i love storms. the trees are bowing before the mighty wind. and we're having soup for dinner! happiness is... eating hot soup with warm buttered bread on a cold, stormy, windy night. mmm.

Good day, good day

So today went well. I conversed with several Olinites online, got a box from Joy (with the coolest monkey socks EVAR), and discovered that an amazing steel drummer will be at HSU in April. So I will go. And it will be the bestest concert. He's really good.

And how on earth have I - self-proclaimed music lover that I am - survived without ever really listening to Maynard Ferguson?? He is... WOW! Cannot find words. So good. I <3 style="font-style: italic;">We wants it, our precious. Any good music ideas?

And the first floor of my index card house is completed. Don't ask.

prince charming?

Just watched Snow White, which started me thinking about Prince Charming. I am somehow under the impression that the stereotypical Prince Charming (call him PC) is "tall, dark, and handsome" - I don't know why - and sometimes mysterious as well. I've read books and seen movies with a PC; most of the books didn't actually have a PC - the girls just dreamt about him. In the Anne of Green Gables books, for instance, Anne and Diana spend hours picturing their own PCs. They know what he looks like, how he acts, what he wears, even possible names. For some reason, I think most girls do this. Do they? Do most young girls dream of a PC who is perfect and romantic and et cetera? I just know I never did this.

I don't remember thinking of my perfect prince. And now, when I actually care just a little, I can't picture him. If I start describing PC, people I've known crowd in. Traits I've disliked in people associate themselves with all other traits those poor boys possessed. And I associate names very strongly with the character. For example, I despise the name Colin because of someone I knew in high school who I didn't like very much. (and it makes me think of colic) I also don't like the name Clinton, because of a boy in 1st grade. Also don't like Dennis; and there are other names. I like most J names, and Paul, Mac, Ross, Andrew, Isaac, Luke, Westley, a few D names; all names of people who have traits I admire or cool characters from books.

So what would my PC be like? I don't know. I like both dark and light hair, because I've known boys with both who I approved of. Black is good, so's dark or light brown, so's red, and real blond. No blue or green or pink or purple... And eye color? And skin color? I really don't care all that much, although I like people who obviously spend a good amount of time outdoors. And again, this is all because of what my friends have been like. It seems rather odd to me that I remember no childish dreams for my future. The only standards I have to compare people to are standards formed by other people I have known. I almost feel bad that I won't be able to tell my future husband that he's exactly what I dreamed him to be. I'll never be able to tell someone they're my PC, cause I don't have one. I almost feel sad about this, but not quite. I just feel like a very unusual girl. I feel like I've just identified another missing piece of childhood. Sigh...

And it's raining again! Rain inspires thoughtful reveries and wistful stares. I love it. There's nothing so peaceful as falling asleep to the pounding of a rainstorm. All else is still and silent and watching; the rain alone moves, falling straight down all gray and fat, covering a multitude of messes, washing the land's face clean. Mmmm, rain!

Yechh...

I have been rendered speechless by one of those too-small-to-see evil things. And as if that weren't enough, swallowing has become horridly painful. And my temperature can't make up it's mind. Yeah, I'm sick. I think the most annoying part is just that my throat hurts really badly. I can deal with the not talking. Hopefully it won't last long; Dawn had something similar, and she got over it relatively quickly. But it's still frustrating.

I still like Batman best. And I think I know why. He doesn't have any superpowers, or at least he didn't in Batman Begins. (Keep in mind that my introduction to Spiderman was the movies, and my intro to Batman was the recent movie, and the closest I've come to being introduced to Superman was by watching a few episodes of Smallville. Superheroes were not present in my childhood.) Course, since I wasn't swept away by superheroes when I was younger, now appears to be the time. But Batman's my favorite; mostly because he's more real. He doesn't have any crazy super powers. He's just strong and rich and just so happens to have the coolest cave under his house and amazing gadgets at his disposal. He's just a person who took advantage of an amazing opportunity. Makes him seem more attainable. I'm not rich, or strong like he is, but I'm assuming there must be something good I can do. I just need someone to get me started, to help me. Even Batman wasn't alone. Several people played key parts in preparing him and supporting him (at least in the movie. I don't know about the original comics). Catalyst people. So now I just need some catalysts...

And, of course, being able to speak would be nice, too...

blah. a pox on the confusion of life.

wow. in a somewhat depressed state right now; i'm not quite sure why. today's been decent. nice weather again. of course, i'm beginning to feel ill - blame it on family members. and i slept very very little last night. and had some good conversations with cool people. so why do i feel so blah? is it cause i still can't find a good reason for my being here? because i still have no reason for anything? perhaps i'm getting discouraged by the lack of answers. perhaps this is just me coming down with a cold. perhaps it's just the other extreme after a few times of crazy laughter and feeling like my family's much more of a family than it ever has been. perhaps i'm also jealous of other people having a good time, being busy, being around lots of people their own age who they can talk to and connect with and just plain have fun around. i am olin-sick. but is that all that's wrong with me? i don't know.

i definitely envy all you who are enjoying your lives right now. so sad, i've spent so much of my life wanting something i didn't have (lightheartedness, fun, friends, popularity, money, purpose, etc.). for a while i was fairly content. content to be mediocre - but only because everyone else was so amazing (i mean you, olin people). content that i was ok, that i wasn't despised, that i might actually matter. but now, that nice easy contentment is gone. don't know where it went. i want it back. or at least, i want something.

there's still something missing in my life. perhaps many somethings. but how can you find something if you don't know what it looks like?

Ah, yes...

Watching a pale blue butterfly wing grow in form and colour while listening to Spanish guitar and crocheting equals wonderful relaxation. Oh, how I love Spanish guitar! Hurrah for records.

And did you know? - Brahms wrote a Requiem. I never knew that. It's special because the words are not the usual ones found in requiems. It's more for the people who remain - words of comfort. And all the words are taken straight from the Bible. It's a beautiful piece.

oh wow! Gandalf is amazing!

So this evening I got a treat. Ooh-la-la. The United States Air Force Band of the Golden West performed in town. It was their concert band, and true to form, it was a fantastic performance. Their jazz band came by a couple years ago, and the musicians are wonderful. They're professionals.. Oh golly. Tonight's performance was a treat to my poor ears. It's been so long since I've heard a good concert band perform. They did several marches (of course, since they're military). They performed a piece called Valdres that was really cool, and a tone poem-ish piece called To Tame the Perilous Skies. It was a picture of the fog lifting to reveal the planes, then them taking off to fly around for a while, then they got called to duty, participated in a dog fight. It was really impressive. I enjoyed it immensely. And the french horn soloist - oh my goodness! He was amazing! I've always loved the French horn, and wow he was good. They also had a vocalist who performed first Debussy, then jazz (All the Way, and some Ella piece).

Then there was Gandalf. Some dude wrote a Lord of the Rings symphony (this was before the movies and the craze). Gandalf is the most famous section of it. I'd never heard it before, but I'd heard about it. The piece certainly conveyed Gandalf as I picture him from reading the books. So cool. And now I am refreshed.

I also picked up some job applications today. And it's a four day weekend. And we got another phone line, so I won't feel bad staying on-line. Yay!

Much Better

Wednesdays are much better than Tuesdays. Don't quite know why I liked today better than yesterday. My sister got sick today. And my left shoulder is ridiculously tense and I've got a funny thing on my collarbone that hurts a little (It feels like someone tied a thin string around the bone. So weird), so it's not like today was good.

But orchestra was fun. And somehow I was happier. Don't ask why; I can't answer. I think I just have to accept that. It's just one of those things that I do not and can not ever understand. Such is life. And I'm going to go job-hunting tomorrow. So here's hoping that goes well. And that I don't thoroughly embarrass myself by doing or saying something foolish or stupid.

Just thought of something... Maybe eating the butterfly was part of what made my day so good. I like butterflies. Yum.

Tuesdays...

There is nothing worth saying about Tuesdays. They just are. They come just like any other day - the sun rises, sails across the sky, and sets. But they're meh.

Especially when the Tuesday is a "holiday." Especially when it's a stupid holiday that spits alcohol into open wounds. Bleeding hearts and dying flowers and enforced pretend affection and reminders of one's own unspecialness - those are what Valentine's Day remind me of.

I don't like it. I think I'm going to go occupy myself and attempt to forget the day. This is willful ignorance at its finest. Bah humbug.

Ahhh!

The owl. Will not. SHUT UP!

I ask of you: However can one be expected to sleep with an owl constantly, insistently, hooting nearby? Whoo-who-who-whooo-Whoo! And it goes on. He hoots. Pauses a minute. Then repeats. And it's a great horned, which means we can't make it stop. No bb guns this time. Not that I could even see it cause it's dark already. But grrr. I want to sleep now. But as soon as the silence settles, that infernal owl starts up again. He's been at it for several hours! It's almost as if he's waiting for someone who's really really late, or he's a sentinel, relaying the safe signal every few seconds, or he's sending messages to heaven knows what. But I'm afraid I'm going to go insane. Or at least go sleepless. Stupid owl. Please, Mr. Owl, please, for the love of all that is holy, or even for the love of all that is not holy, if you prefer, please just SHUT UP!!
(said while muttering...) I. Hate. That. Stupid. Owl.

Don't sue me. You'd hate him too if he was doing this to you. You know you would. Or, if you didn't hate him, at least you'd want to STRANGLE HIM WITH A THIN PIECE OF FISHING WIRE SO THAT HE WOULD NEVER DO THIS AGAIN! Or you'd catch him in a really strong cage and take him to a doctor and have his "whoo"-ing mechanism removed. Or you'd just slap him. Or maybe you're more tolerant of annoying birds than I and you'd just smile and say "nice birdie. Please be quiet. I am trying to sleep." But I am NOT tolerant of annoying birds. Living with a pet goose has cured me of that. I say I want to strangle the owl, and I do. Or just shoot it. That would be easier and less dangerous for me. And it would help me practice my marksmanship. It would be, so to speak, killing two birds with one stone. Don't you dare laugh. That was horrible of me, bad llama.

OWL = EVIL

GRRRR...

Boo yah!

Ooh-la-la. I shouldn't be typing. But wheee! I am anyway. I am now officially a bass chick. Well, sortof. Today went well, although I have the beginnings of small blisters on two fingers. And oh it makes me laugh! I actually, for once, planned my outfit. By this, I mean I thought about what I would wear, and tried to make it match. Apparently I succeeded. (For the curious, it was black boots, black tights, white skirt, black shirt and black suit jacket) But I forgot about a couple things. 1) the bass I play? It's black and white. So I matched my bass. I was a cool bass chick wearing a color-coordinated outfit with my instrument. 2) we have black lights. Weird, I know, but we've got a picture made with black light paint, so we shine black lights on it. One of the light fixtures has black light instead of fluorescent, and it was the only one on in the worship band part of the building. SO, since I was standing directly underneath that light, my skirt glowed. It glowed that really cool purpley color. So there I was, matching my bass, with my skirt lit up by the black lights. And I have a motion deficiency; I can NOT stand still. So I moved, with the music, almost the entire time. Yeah, weird. It was crazy how many comments I got about the fact that a) I was playing bass ("I didn't know you played bass!") b) I was wearing a matching, cool outfit ("I love your outfit!" oh man, so many people complimenting me, and that's weird. I'm accustomed to people looking at what I'm wearing, giving me a funny face, and avoiding looking at me from then on.) and c) I glowed purple! I was told I made a sensation; I don't quite believe that. But it was nice to be treated nicely, and it was so much fun to play. (sorry about the italics) It's been too long since I've been in a band, and I really missed it. So boo yah! I win. Oh yeah. I totally win... (and it wasn't even intentional! yay!) So despite my sore fingers, I am so doing this again. At least now I have something to look forward to on the weekends. Now I just need something to do during the week. Me = :-)