My To-Do List

I can't help it, sometimes when I'm stressed I just make a few lists to help sort out my thoughts.

Tew Dew -

-Go volunteer at the library from 10-12.
-Take my oboe and my sister's bassoon to go see Rodney! I've got a broken trill key I need for a recording and she needs a new pad for a key.
-Finish the recording of my solo. X_x it's hard... and it's a massive part of my band exam grade.
-Finish my biology project, with no idea how long it will take. Requires writing, printing, cutting, cutting, pasting, coloring, and that sort of thing.
-Help my dad in the garden. It's frickin' hot too.
-Study for my band exam, which was moved to monday.
-Study for my biology exam, which I believe is thursday.
-Study for my health exam, which is on friday. Thank goodness I'm done with that stupid pacer test. They grade you for how many laps you can run around the gym. Idiots.
-Study for my English exam on monday- the next one. At least I think it is on monday... or maybe I'm just messed up, which is very, very possible.


This whole week has just been one big groan. I am so ready for school to be over.



Just end.

I've had enough, I have had enough, I have had enough.

I seriously think I will be one of the people doing the can-can when school finally lets out.

My brain is going to melt.

Not like my summer's going to be at all relaxing though.





Be optimistic, everyone you hate is eventually going to die anyway.


note to self

who you are is not up to them


The Missing Piece

Last year, my middle-school band worked really hard. We did. I had a few solos, so did the saxophone, flute, and clarinet. I don't want to say their names.

I remember that I was terrified to go compete with them at Concert Band Festival. We went all the way on a long bus ride there. And we did it. We went to the competition, we did fantastic. We got superior ratings all down the page, all ones. We were the first eighth-grade band at the school to do that.

Life was looking good, and very much so since we went to Busch Gardens for nearly the rest of the day.

Then, we were supposed to go to an auditorium in the evening for awards. There were lots of other bands that had competed. When it rolled around for three soloist awards... there were three of us from the same school who got it! The saxophone was called first, we all cheered and screamed for him. Then, the clarinet, and we all were still whooping and hollering. Then... me! I think I just stood there dumbfounded for a moment, then my friends pushed me to the stage to go get the little trophy. I could hardly believe it. I looked at the flute... she kind of looked like she was... well, really upset.

But me, I was on top of the world.

On the bus ride back in the dark, I turned around. The flute was sitting behind me, well, laying kind of, facing the window. "Hey," I said to her. "Even if you didn't get one of the soloist awards, I still think you did really great and I want to congratulate you anyways... you are so good, you've been awesome this year."

"Whatever, I don't really want to talk about it."

"Really, I mean it, you still did fantastic-" I started.

"I said I don't want to talk about it," she huffed.

The girl in the seat next to her told me she wasn't feeling good and just wanted to sleep. Funny. She was totally fine today.

Still, I felt bad. I reached into my bag and pulled out my little trophy... and part of it was broken off! I gasped. I knew right away who had done it, but I said nothing. I put it back in the bag and cradled it in my lap, like Clara did for her broken nutcracker. Then I put it on the floor between my feet and hardly said anything the rest of the night.

I felt horrible, like she hated me forever, and had broken my trophy. It was probably the greatest thing that ever happened to me - since I always felt like I was worth nothing and I had worked so hard that year to become something, but she probably felt like she worked really hard too. I wasn't sure what had gotten into her.

But, actually, I'm glad I said nothing, because the other day my mother found that piece hiding in the garage. It must have broken in my bag.

We glued it back on, and now my little trophy is in one piece on top of my desk.

What a great feeling to know that she didn't break it after all.

I wish I could have told that story more artfully but that's all I have to say. Today's lesson... don't jump to conclusions, never accuse. You could be the one who is wrong.

Love, peace, virtue, and cheesiness,



Life in Technicolor

....click it, you dolt, it's a link.


Humans are lazy, pt. II

Humans are lazy. Every site I go to I see at least one ad for weight loss. "Cut down pounds of belly fat by obeying this one rule! As seen on CNN, or Food Network, or whatever! Check out my blog to read my story!"

I love it how everyone wants to be thin but no one wants to work for it. No one wants to actually eat healthy, actually exercise, actually try to stay healthy. I bet we all do these things. We stay up late at night because going early is square and there's too much to get done anyways. We choose the faster thing, whatever we can just pull out of the fridge or slam into the microwave. We always check the nutrition facts to see if what we're eating is remotely healthy, but if it isn't, what do we care? We just tell ourselves, oh, we'll eat healthier tomorrow, oh, we'll work out tomorrow, oh, we'll eat something healthy to balance. But do we? Not always.

Humankind is lazy. We are no longer forced to be in shape. We don't hunt for our food (thank goodness, meat is gross), and we don't really worry about getting eaten by bears or washed away in a storm. We can just pull something out of the pantry and open it up, we don't have to cook our food on an open fire or something.

And look at us. There are so many things we as humans take for granted (like clean water, medicine, constant shelter, easy access to food, easy transportation, no fighting and war here, oh don't even get me started) and yet we worry about petty things like our appearance, how thin or buff or ripped or whatever we are. We worry about the stupid petty things that won't even matter a hundred years from now to anyone looking back. Who kissed who. Who's a 'ho. Who lost 52 pounds by obeying one simple rule. Who's going out with who, who dumped who. (I think I have bad grammar, maybe it's who dumped whom... Maybe not. Whatever.)

We are so shallow.

And lazy.

And me, most of all.

PS. (edited in later) This is my fortune for the day, my horrorscope.

"You will be weakened, not in form: you won't be in a good mood and will be incapable of action or finishing your tasks. You will meet people you find fascinating but who may make you forget your duties through their originality. Your ideas will be as unsound as your character.

You will very much want to be free and independent. You will be disturbed, upset, troubled and tormented. You will live beyond your means.

You will not feel very much at ease, a feeling that all's not well or of emptiness around you will encase you as if you were in a thick fog."

Jeez, bad fortunes are the pits when they're right.


Humans are lazy

"Planes are dropping out of the sky like the geese shot down by winter hunters. It sad, yet expected at the same time. If humans were meant to fly, we would have been born with wings on our shoulder blades. Planes were only invented to make traveling easier and pleasurable for us, humans, not the environment. It seems that whatever man-made thing we throw out there eventually gets overruled by nature.

I wish some would grasp the concept that maybe planes and things of the sort, aren’t such a very good idea anymore.

I think it’s time we learn to walk again, it seems we’re always using wheels to get around, and we all know we could use the exercise."



I think Sundays are very depressing days for me. They're like a shock back to reality. Usually Friday I come home and flop on my bed and do nothing or go see a movie with a friend or waste my life on the Wii Fit. (Ten total hours, woot!) And Saturday, I usually do a few chores, homework, go for a walk maybe, and continue to waste my life on the Wii, or read, or play old-school Crash Bandicoot games on the Playstation.

But Sundays kind of suck. I have been having a trend where I have the most wonderful dreams on Saturday nights that I would do anything just to go back. And waking up is depressing. Then I have to do some more chores, probably go to church, do more homework, probably yardwork too, then the next day is Monday.

I don't get it. I spend my whole week wishing it was the weekend. I'm struggling through every single day, just wishing it to be over.

I'm told that your teenage years are the best years of your life and that you'll be wishing them back later. I certainly am not wishing them back now.

Life is kind of confusing. Blaring hormones make it hard for you to tell the difference between what matters and what doesn't. I know my life doesn't suck but it's not really how I'd like to go on.

But then, I don't know how I want to go on about my life. I'm not that much of a party animal, I wouldn't want to be around people every day. I just don't know. I don't want to do nothing because that would be boring. I'm just stressed out every day and it's kind of getting old. I work best under pressure but now doing anything less than my best is like doing horrible. Did I set myself up for this?


See "wrong exit" post. *sigh*

While I'm here...

Ten things I love love love:

1. Climbing trees and sitting there.

2. Blowing bubbles.

3. Alternative music. Rock, mostly.

4. Playing something on some instrument and just letting my fingers fly without worrying what it sounds like.

5. The sound of applause.

6. A's. And art.

7. The smell of old books, even though it usually sends me sneezing since I'm allergic to dust. But that's okay. Also with old books, the crinkling of their spines and pages.

8. Curling up under a blanket on a rainy day (like this) with a cup of tea and a book.

9. Driving with the windows down and the music pounding.

10. Not caring what anyone thinks about me.



Sometimes there are days where we all just want to say something so bad, but we can't. It's like choking on that thought. It's going to strangle you if you can't get it out, which you can't.

You're going to be strangled by that thing you cannot say.

The end.


keyboards need modifications

Life needs modification.

Don't you wish there was a backspace key when we needed it on the great big keyboard of life? I feel like a gigantic hunk of cheese saying that. But really, I'm serious.

Life needs a backspace key, man.


Two horrid ingredients in one gigantic pot that's about to boil over

Stress and boredom do not mix.

However, stress and boredom mix anyways when you know you should be doing something but you have to be in one place and you're stuck in another and there's absolutely nothing you can do about it.

It's kind of like watching Earth blow up from the moon.




It's funny how the world would be so empty without music. I can look back and never think of a time when I haven't needed it. It's like, right up there with food, water, oxygen, and cheesy Harry Potter books. He who sings scares away his woes. A cookie to anyone who knows for me who said that quote and is correct.

I can listen to any song and it takes me back to another time. They take me back to times when I struggled, to when I was on top of the world, to the days where I cried myself to sleep every single night at three in the morning. There are songs that lifted me to another world for all of three minutes. There are songs that could make me cry all over again, or get up and dance.

An African proverb - "When music changes, so does the dance." What if all I had to do was just listen to a hopeful song instead of one dripping in pain? What if, what if.


This world is cruel

I just found out my shampoo has caprylic triglyceride, lecithin, and glycerin.

Let me fill you in.

Caprylic triglyceride is a liquid fatty acid from either cow or goat milk. Lecithin comes from nervous tissues. Glycerin is generally animal fat- since it's a byproduct of soap manufacture.

This is so frustrating. Isn't there anything in the world that doesn't kill animals so we can have it? Some way or another something dies! It could be completely plant based, but how many animals were hit by the truck that drove it to the store? How many bugs were swatted away while the plants were harvested? And how many died on the windshield? How many plants and bugs were stepped on on the way?

Sometimes I wish humans could just be filled with chlorophyll and all that and just stand out in the sun and make our own freaking food instead of eating everything else.


Like, holy cow

I am stressed. I will tell you why.

I had a test today and a project due today, I have a concert at a big fancy concert hall tomorrow and a dress rehearsal at night.

I'm the first chair oboist, and I still have to worry about new music in band.

I have a huge chore to do list at home, which I should be whittling down now instead of blogging. *sigh*

I keep having nightmares that take place in the future, only I stay the same age.

AND I have to fill out a leadership form and write an essay or whatever and go to band camp for two extra days if I even want to be considered for section leader later.

The stupid freaking pacer test which I failed the first time in PE is coming up again in two weeks and I don't want to have anymore asthma attacks.

Life is confusing in more ways that one. Or fifty.

I'm going to still have that intern/lab job/whatever it is over the summer, I'm going to have almost no spare time. I have almost no spare time now.

Oh, ya, I have an oboe lesson this Saturday too, and I have to go to stupid environmental club on Thursday because my friend wants me to. even though I promised I wasn't going to go this year any more, because it was too awkward to just latch onto some group and go with them. Because my friend wouldn't go with me. I don't even care if she sees this, she doesn't read my blog anyway.

She totally ditched me and left me behind. So did the other girl who was once my friend. Friends don't do this. She says hello if I say hello first. She looks away if I look at her. I'll email her, she'll email me back once or twice then like forget I even sent her an email.


Anyhow, Beyond this Moment is the only thing to help cool me off. Thanks, Tay. (Seriously, google search it. Beyond This Moment by Patrick O'Hearn. Most beautiful effing song in the universe.)

Thanks for reading that, if you did.


James Earl Jones ROCKS

I'm sorry, that was shallow.

Everyone, go watch Earth. Seriously. I went to see it last night, it was probably the most amazing thing I have ever been touched by in a theatre. Except the Harry Potter 6 trailer, and my mouth was probably open for its entire duration. (I'm sorry, that was also shallow.)

And, the narrator (hence the title of this lame, shallow little post) is James Earl Jones. Once you get over cracking up thinking "Luke, I am your father," or "Come to the dark side," it gets so intense. It's like... we don't have to fight for our lives every day.

If I'm making no sense, which is probably the case, go watch it. It's totally worth 9 bucks in a movie theatre.


Wow, you really read all that? Danggg. Props! =]

Well, I see you've just had the imponderable joy of stumbling onto the blog of an 18-year-old girl who can't really describe herself in 500 words or less, such as in little text boxes like these. She didn't intend her blog to really become so much like her online diary (she was hoping it would have an interesting, helpful purpose to serve the world and all) but blogging is just kind of fun. This girl's a bit of an environmentalist and a full-tilt vegetarian, a bit of an artist who can't draw, a bit of a writer who can't find time to read, and a completely hopeless romantic. She enjoys white chocolate, coloring, wading in creeks, music, Doctor Who, and speaking in third-person when it's unnecessary like this.

Now go read the rest of the blog and meet her, if you like of course. :)