to walk in a very flirtatious, promiscuous or seductive way: She slanked across the room toward him.
2.
towalk with physical emphasis on the feminine figure: She walked slankily, her hips swaying to the beat of an inner tango.
Best verb ever, yeah? I want to learn to slank. I want to be a slanky individual.
I could right a romance novel. Which is funny, because my name sounds much more like a romance novelist's name that a violinist's name (I've discussed this with my friends in the past, hehe).
Sometimes I like to think I'm Carrie Bradshaw, and can write openly about every single thing that comes to mind. Yesterday, I contemplated posting a blog on my romantic daydreams, and I also just thought about posting on something that would probably get me in a lot of social trouble (think 'I'm so disgusted with her!' shit). Truth is, this isn't a journal, it's a blog. And, unlike Carrie Bradshaw, fictional goddess of literature, I'm not paid to talk about super personal shit. So I should probably keep my mouth shut.
Honestly, I feel like 'truth' is the easiest way to get well known- to make your art about honesty, especially a most blunt version, will make you more 'famous' than anything else will. It also, unfortunately, will piss a lot of people off. So... how to be honest without being a garish joke or an annoying pseudointellectual?
Ha! Impossible. I guess that's why life depresses me sometimes. Because after everything is taken into consideration, life may be a beautiful, amazing, miraculous... thing. But it's still a mystery. It's still a paradox. It's still going to have ups and downs, and the downs are always going to throw me a little off kilter.
It sucks when your heart is in two different places, and your head can't make sense of it. I have a very bad case of Split Passion Syndrome right now. Yes, I just made that name up, I probably wouldn't quote it if I were you. You might sound very uneducated.
Today, my mother came up to me and asked me if I was positive I want to go into music as a career, and if I really want to go to school for it. This wouldn't have been a big deal if I hadn't already been doubting myself lately on that very subject. Am I really cut out for music? Is the fact that I'm second guessing myself proof enough that I'm not meant to be a violinist??
I've always had very different passions in my life- I was always the little science girl in grade school, varying from meteorology to nanotechnology- but I also wanted to be a journalist for a long time, a fashion designer for a long time, an ice skater, and even a ballerina (those two last ones were when I was four and five, though). My mom brought up the point today that though I've always been good at music, I haven't had that strong a passion all the way through my 'career.'
But then again, maybe that's why I'm still with it- I am passionate about it, I love it, but because it hasn't come out all within a few years, it's the kind of passion that will never die. It's the kind of passion that will never simply go away, like drawing did, or like meteorology did. Honestly, I can't picture myself being anything but a violinist (well, or a history teacher, but I'd be so super awkward). Music is a huge part of my life. How could I just grow up and... play violin recreationally?! Nonsense.
Maybe that's proof of my ability to be a violinist. Maybe I'll get to college and decide it's not worth it, and I'll want to be a psychologist or a history teacher or... a skydiver. I don't know. Probably not the latter. I have a huge fear of falling.
So, My sister and I are currently watching West Side Story, and we're trying to think of who would be in the new cast if there was a remake (which would obviously not be as good, but hey).
CAST
Tony - David Henrie | Maria - Ariana Grande
Bernardo - Ricky Ulman | Anita - Lyndsy Fonseca
Riff - Lucas Grabeel| Chino - Connor Paolo
Needless to say, Jade balled her eyes out at West Side Story. But I did too, when I first watched it. And I didn't watch it very thoroughly this time round, so. I probably would have too.
Lately, I've been observing the idea of nonsexual attraction- people wanting to be friends with other people. People adoring other people.
I get disgusted by it! Though I shouldn't, because that sort of human emotion is totally natural. People like other people. It's engrained in our species- we're socialites of the animal kingdom! But it still irks me.
For instance, I really want to be friends with a girl at my school who is close to one of my best friends. The three of us went shopping recently, and though I was sick, being myself was exhausting. It makes me wonder if being myself- if being a sociable young lady- is worth it at all. But I know for sure it is, and I still want to be friends with the girl.
Example 2- NOTE:I don't know how describe the kid anymore, I don't feel like either of us deserve to call the other 'ex' but it doesn't feel like I can just call him my 'friend' anymore, because of what did happen. Peter. I want to be his friend again. We used to text each other every so often, and hang out and be open with each other about everything going on. And it wasn't a best friend relationship, but it was an honest one, and I treasured it. Also, there's this kid in my AP Psych class Pete always jokes around with. I can't tell if this kid's a total douche bag, they're both total douche bags (and I never realized it before), or I think they're both hilarious. But my gut keeps telling me that they're both douche bags, and I really ought to just forget about it and not let it bother me that they're friends.
But of course, there's jealousy there, because I haven't talked to Peter since we 'broke up.' Which is dumb. Because I really ought to just text him and be like, "Hey, how's Pete?"
Whenever I'm in a particularly poignant mood, this is my go to piece/movie.
Adrien Brody + Chopin = Love.
It's official. My coworker legitimately thinks I'm nuts. Well. Maybe not. But I'm dead positive that he can read my mind.
Or I'm just really bad at trying to keep my emotions from showing on my face. I also dance a lot when I'm happy. Even when I'm doing the dishes.
Anyway.
Today in AP Bio, we learned about chromosome transference in meiosis, and how there can be those crazy plants with the extra set of chromosomes, and there was a rat that was a triploid and all that jazz. And I figured it would be the best basis in the world to start a sci fi novel on. But. Unfortunately, I've run into these speed bumps:
1. In a time when every child is genetically altered in test tubes, something goes terribly wrong, but the parents keep the child anyway because they love it that much. They have another child in hopes of fixing the first... Oh my God, My Sister's Keeper.
2. In a time when every child is genetically altered in test tubes, a family has a love child, and he is viewed as a threat to himself and others around him, so doctors interfere- Oh my God, Gattaca.
3. A mother gives birth to a polyploid baby, and the baby grows up fine, surprisingly. One day, it morphs into something else... Oh my God, Shaun of the Dead, and pretty much every other zombie movie/literature out there.
4. A mother gives birth to a polyploid baby, and though it has a distinct human shape, there are mutations that the baby has that lead to it's being given up for adoption. The baby grows up and meets others of his kind, and they decide to fight evil. OH MY GOD, X-MEN.
See, if these were all original, I'd be a millionairess. I'd be hot shit.
I've often been thinking lately about how slowly this year is going, but how fast it's going at the same time. Basically, this year has felt like three years combined into one- and it's not even second semester yet.
Do you know how many changed relationship statuses there have been so far this year? A LOT.
Do you know how many life altering events I've had so far this year? A LOT
Do you know how much I've matured since September?
A lot a lot.
I don't know if I've truly been 'living my life to the fullest' lately, or I'm just enjoying life a little more. Or if they're the same thing? And the weirdest thing of all is that this year is going to be over and done with and I'm going to be an adult. I'm going to be a college girl! I'm going to be a real violinist! This year seems so frivolous.
And I've read articles about the government being like, "oh, there needs to be a fifth year of high school!" You know how dumb that would be? Unless it was added to the tail end of it. But high school freshmen are awful enough to deal with. Eighth graders would just be... hell.
Anyway.
It's scary. And my heart is pounding now. And. Um. Vampire Weekend.
As I was thinking about a guy I may have feelings for today, I reminisced about all of the crushes I've had in the past. I decided, for some reason, that there are some scary similarities between the Kubler-Ross model of the five stages of grief.
Kubler/Ross's stages:
1. Denial
Ex. "No, she can't be dead... She can't be dead."
2. Anger
Ex. "Who is to blame for this? Why ME? It's not fair."
3. Bargaining
Ex. "I'll do anything for this to be reversed."
4. Depression
Ex. "There's no point in anything anymore."
5. Acceptance
Ex. "It's okay. I'll be okay. Life will go on."
Kubler/Ross altered by Paige...
1. Denial
Ex. "Nooooo. I don't really like him."
2. Anger
Ex. "No, seriously. I can't like him. I'm being so stupid."
3. Bargaining
Ex. "Oh my God. I like him so much. I'll do anything to be with that kidddddd."
4. Depression
Ex. "He'll never like me. There's no point in anything anymore."
5. Acceptance
Ex. "Well, you know. If he decides to like me back, that's cool. If not, there are plenty of other fish in the sea, as they say."
I feel like I've made the psychological discovery of the century. Probably not. But it's pretty crazy.
I'm in such an AP Psych kind of mood. But I have to do AP Bio. :/ Well. Alright then.
It's always so funny to how much a human contradicts him/herself in a day. Here, we see a prime example- a dialogue between two characters in one head- Neurotic Pessimistic Paige, and Happy-Go-Lightly Optimistic Paige.
NPP (heretofore known as Neurotic Pessimistic Paige) : My life sucks. I should just stay home for the rest of my high school career. Maybe I'm not cut out to be a professional violinist. No one will ever love me, because of repeated rejections in the past, which proves I am ugly and intolerable. My voice is too high, But I shouldn't even think of altering it to make it sound low and sarcastic, because then I sound dumb too. Waaaahhhhhhh.
HOP (heretofore known as Happy-Go-Lightly Optimistic Paige): Your life doesn't suck! You love school, and love the challenge it brings you, because you know it will make you a better person in the end. You are indeed cut out to be a classical violinist, you are full of passion and music and ideas, and even if you end up not being concertmistress for the Chicago Symphony, you can do whatever you want in life! There will be plenty of men who love you romantically, and there will be others who find you attractive but don't like you that way. That's okay, that's how you weed out the guys you don't want to have babies with. Your voice is very pretty, and you should sing more often.
NPP: I'm a sociopath. I probably have tendonitis, too. That, and schizophrenia, manic depression, bipolar disorder, ingrown hairs, mild acne that will never go away, a lack of niacin and riboflavin, and too many carbs in my system. My body is nice, but not good enough or tall enough or boobalicious enough to be a Victoria's Secret Model (or any kind of model, for that matter). I have no sense of fashion, will be sleep deprived for the rest of my life, and lose my creativity by the time I am 27.
HOP: You are not a sociopath, you may have tendonitis and depression, but you don't have schizophrenia, manic depression, bipolar disorder, or ingrown hairs. You can take vitamins to make up for your poorish eating habits. Your body is awesome, and you have every right to love yourself just as much as the next girl. Forget about boobs, you don't need them, you have a nice ass. Of course you have a sense of fashion! And of course you will catch up on sleep! And your creativity is embedded and woven within you- you're not going to lose it. Ever.
Maybe this will make other girls laugh, maybe this will make other girls cry, maybe this will make other girls be like, "hey, that's kinda sorta like me." But I don't give a shit. I'm gonna do AP Psych and listen to Guster.
I used to fancy myself quite the amateur songstress. Today, my sister showed friend of ours an old youtube video of a song I wrote. Needless to say, my voice wasn't soundin' so awesome. It still doesn't sound super awesome, but that's mostly because I don't practice singing a lot any more, and I don't write any music like that.
I really love performing though. I really, really do. And considering how much Saint Saens and Bach and Dont are pissing me off lately, maybe I should try that out again. The only problem that I can think of is that my poetry and chords wouldn't super easily mesh into a song. So. I'll probably try it out. I have fourth, sixth and eighth hours off, so why not? Maybe I can perform at Harmony Cafe again.
Basically, I want to be Regina Spektor crossed with Sarah Chang.
Today has been odd. I feel overly excitable.
But then again, maybe there's just a lot to be excited about?
We're finally studying dream psychology in AP Psych, which I've been nuts about since I was in like, seventh grade. In orchestra, we played with the band, making us a school symphony (!). We're the American debut of a really cool piece including all three sections of the school's music department. Pretty pretty sweet.
Anyway.
So there's that.
And then there is the fact that I'm feeling pretty anxious. For some reason, every semi-attractive guy I see (who I know has an attractive personality, but I don't necessarily like) I picture in this daydream. I simply wake up with them, next to them, the sunlight of an early-ish morning pouring in the room, and they smile at me. And it makes my heart just flutter and I feel so good insideeeee.
I just want to be in love! I don't necessarily want a boyfriend. I want a freaking husband. A life partner. Which, let's face it, is a long way off. But at least it's clear to me now what I want. I'm ready to wake up next to somebody. I'm ready to go attend their performances or whatever it is they do in support. I'm ready to look out into the audience at a symphony performance and smile at that guy.
I am bored, and feel like expressing myself. Yay. Um.
So I decided to go on modcloth.com
Which is a great site, but I rarely buy from it because I'm kinda poorish. And pick a day for each day o' the week.
Monday Paige
Red tinted lip balm,
Black flats,
Lots o' mascara.
Think Allison Harvard.
Tuesday Paige
Rosy Rosy Cheeks,
A top bun and a chunky necklace.
Wednesday Paige
I just won't wear shoes today.
I'll keep it totally natural, like
A goddess who decided it was best
To chill on Earth today.
Thursday Paige
Red lips, black patent peep toes.
Friday Paige
With a pair of teal pumps.
Yessssss.
Saturday Paige
Dark green Headband and a messy bun.
And black flats.
Sunday Paige
The perfect dress for Youth Symphony. <3
Bronzygold heels, loose ponytail.
Now you can see how bored I am.
I should really focus more on violin. ugh.
But I haven't indulged in fashion in a while. So.
From this point on, violin only. At least until next Wednesday, when competition #2 is over.
Your head spins faster than you can run, and so you fall down.
Hands shaking, you wipe the eyes that never stop leaking
The desert sun, after all, only dries the dirt cracked beneath your feet.
Those true friends of yours?
They died,
And they flew,
And they are renewed!
And you are stuck here,
On a planet where apocalypse hit, and left without empathy.
Where the wind ties you up like ribbons of sin.
------
Yeah, I'm not done with that poem yet, most likely. But I had to get something out on paper. I've been self pitying longer than I expected I would be, and imagery at least takes my mind off of it. I really should be doing homework right now.
Let's just count that as a break.
So today, with the help of some incredibly wonderful friends and their support (and yes, I'm counting my mother and sister as friends, not family in this case) I got over the misadventures of yesterday. I'm a lot better now. A lot a lot. About everything, not just the competition, not just the whole break up spiel, but everything as a whole. Yeah.
And then I read all of book two of Pride and Prejudice. Which is such a guilty pleasure. I don't care if it is considered great literature- some of what is in that book is just pure girly bullshit. And I looooove it. So I took a test to see which Bennet sister I am, and got Jane. Which is cool, because I've always really liked Bingley's character. hehe.
It's amazing what a twenty ounce cup of chai coffee and writing the theme of a violin sonata can do to my mood. Just saying.
You know it's bad news bears when you feel worse about losing a competition than a break up with your boyfriend.
I'm so disgusted with myself right now. I really don't like it. But then again, I'm long over due for a cry.
Ughhhhhh. It just makes me feel like a bad person, because I went ahead and dated my best friend's ex, and even though we both knew it wasn't going anywhere, I decided to be with him anyway.
For a month. A lousy month. It's pathetic. And I betrayed her. And I feel so awful. And. You don't really need to read this, because I'm just pitying myself. But I need to. Everybody deserves to self pity every once in a while.
And I didn't even get into the semi finals of the competition :(
I worked so hard.
I put forth so much effort.
And I just wasn't good enough.
Somebody dig me out of my rut, hold me and tell me I'm worth the world, please. And don't mock me for being a romantic.
And finally, my journey of performing Saint Saens is at the beginning of the end.
Tomorrow is the competition, and I'm so nervous. I played with my pianist today.
I just have to remember to tell myself it's going to be okay, no matter what the outcome. Although I'd really prefer a thousand dollars or two in my pocket. That'd be nice.
I don't know.
There's not a lot to be said for the events that occured today. I played for the wind ensemble at my school, and the band director, who I greatly admire, said I did a wonderful job. He told me some things I can improve on, and hopefully they can come through at least mildly tomorrow.
WAH I'm nervous. And pumped.
I'm feeling rather nostalgic today. Like nineties nostalgic. Like der Nordsee nostalgic. Like Jane Eyre nostalgic. Like 'I can't wait to fall madly in love, but I'll be patient' nostalgic.
I have all these thoughts to write out, and yet I can't seem to express them.
It's really weird. Normally I'm able to just write, but tonight, I think I just need a good night's sleep.
Some time ago I heard/read/saw/was told that if you receive a complement, instead of shooting it down, you should say thank you, even if you don't believe it. Because for one, it will somehow make you feel a little more confident, and also, then you're not being like, "YOUR A SCUMBAG LIAR!" to the person who just tried to make you feel good about yourself.
I feel like I've been doing pretty well at this lately. And though people may not always realize, insecurity is absolutely positively universal when it comes to teenage girls. Sure, Miss so-and-so may say she's the shit, and loves herself to death, but no. Sorry. She's the scumbag liar in this situation.
So yeah. Compliments are always absolutely awesome to receive. Especially when their creative, or unexpected.
All in all, though I've been feeling like a turd/failure/bimbo lately, it really is the little things in my day that keep me stable. Ooch. That sounded super overdramatic, but I think you know what I mean. Like. It's just nice, and it makes me have a little more faith in my existence and role in humanity.
Your smile is the sun, ma chere. And fallen men, we need the sun.
Well, I got myself into quite the academic pickle. I'm soo far behind on my music theory. And I should really be working on that right now... But I really don't want to. I'm surprised I still have a semi decent grade, actually.
And I almost just had a super duper anxiety attack. I feel like such a traitor in some ways. It's hard to explain. But. I feel, lately, that I don't deserve things like I used to. I feel like a bad person. Which is dumb, because I strive everyday to be the best person I can be. It doesn't always work, but at least I'm making a noble effort at it.
I guess we all just have 'those days.'
Maybe I'm getting sick?
Maybe I just need winter break. Really really bad.
Or you know, summer.
It's incredible to me that I find the most obscure and beautiful pieces on Youtube, but I actually haven't listened to my entire concerto...
So today I did. AND I RENEWED MY LOVE FOR IT. <3
Is it just me, or is it hard to think of 19th century French people as hardcore? I always try to think of Napoleon, but he just kind of amuses me, seeing as he was shorter than I am... That, and Russians, Germans and Brits appeal to me more during that time period. So anyway, it's weird trying to give off the vibe of a a prideful, passionate and somewhat angry french person when I play the Saint Saens. Maybe I should just try thinking prior to Napoleon...
Like Marie Antoinette-y France?
Then again, getting outraged at "let them eat cake!" isn't totally my style.
I really think I do want to get a bachelor's degree in history too. Just so I can make historical jokes all the time. They really are funny.
Dear God,
Thanks a lot for all the friends and family who care about me and love me. I care about them and love them too. Also, the material goods are pretty cool. Thanks for letting me be fortunate enough to live in a country where consumerism is NBD. Thank you for music. I love music a lot. Thank you for good food, I like eating. Thanks for the great lakes, those are a good source of water for my area. Thanks for my cats, and thanks for books, and thanks for poetry, and thanks for the internet. Thank you for public schooling. Thank you for science. Thank you for hospitality and generosity. Thanks for my fingers. Thanks for the human conscience.
Sincerely,
Paige
Well, now that I have that out of the way.
I don't know why I'm taking this Thanksgiving so much more seriously than ones in the past. Maybe I've matured. Maybe I'm just happier all around. But either way, I have noticed all year so far that I'm really thankful for the little things, and incredibly grateful for the big things. I'd like to be able to be like, 'oh, hey blog reading people, what are you thankful for??' but I feel as though no one would respond. So just take a second to answer that in your head. Think of the smallest most insignificant event or item in your life, and think of how it made you who you are. Those are the things we should be most grateful for, I feel.
WOO. Philosophayyy.
I wondered to myself today... If you write out your bad thoughts, does that help you get rid of them faster or hold on to them longer? Like when you have a song stuck in your head, does singing it help you get it out of your head, or does it keep the song in there longer?
So I started writing down a bunch of bad stuff about my day. Like the fact that my backpack still reeks of cat piss. And I felt better.
Then I started writing down things that would help me feel even better in the day. I decided it would probably be one of those 'clean the house to feel happier' kind of days. 1. Do my two overflowing baskets of laundry sitting in my bedroom right now. 2. Wash my backpack. Again. 3. Polish my violin.
And then I decided it would probably be best to focus on the positives of the day. Because I made a rule with myself that if I can think of 3 or more good things that happened today, I shouldn't complain so much. 1. Dover (my cat) is being a sweetheart. 2. I made my best friend laugh. 3. Mr. Kellenberger (Orchestra teacher) did hear my scared man voice today when Jade decided to surprise me in a practice room.
The last one was incredibly embarrassing, but it still kind of made my day anyway.
For some reason nowadays, you can't say anything politically related or religiously related or morally related without having someone jump down your throat. I've seen a lot of that this week and decided to write about it, because not only is it hilarious to me, it pisses me the hell off.
Ex. 1)
"Why does it matter if Rosencrantz and Guildenstern were homosexual? What would it really add to the plot anyway?"
BAM. Throat jumpin'.
Ex. 2)
"I hate republicans, just sayin'."
THROAT JUMPIN'. (justified throat jumpin because of this person's incredible ignorance, but throat jumpin' none the less.)
Ex. 3)
"Oh yeah, we're going to the bipartisan Wisconsin Jobs meeting."
No throat jumpin', but seriously palpable tension.
So why does a person's opinion automatically need to be shot down now? I don't get it. I though we could all say what we wanted to, hence, freedom of speech and expression. I almost feel like it's not that we're shooting others down so much as we all just want our time to be heard, and we don't know how to get it out there. I feel like doing an interview of a bunch of people and just letting them talk about what they believe. Without anything to stop them from just saying what they need to say. Because honestly, as much as we'd all like to believe it, facebook is not the place for political debates.
But then it brings up the question, why is it so tense when there's a disagreement without throat jumpin'? Is that how it has always been in the adult world? Everybody has their opinion, and if yours doesn't match theirs... you practically can't breathe because the air is so chock full of 'don't be politically incorrect...... or politically anything really........'
Gosh. When did we all get so loopy?Better yet, when did we all stop realizing that we have a common goal in mind: To live life to the fullest (what ever that may be to the individual). Okay, I'm done ranting.
During homeroom, which was at it's normal time, I overheard a conversation about high school relationships. One girl, who I know as Evie, but goes by Evelyn (I've known her a long time (: ), said, "...I agree, I don't see the point in dating someone if you don't see it going anywhere."
And to that, I wrote a nice page's worth of thoughts. Normally, I don't share my actual journal entries i here, but I thought this one was appropriate enough. And I edited it. :)
Am I the only one who dates because it's fun?! I love being adored, and adoring another person. It makes me feel a little less solitary. And high school me can be pretty damn solitary. Am I the only one who loves settling? I daydream constantly about really cheesy ass romantic stuff, like my wedding and growing old and holding hands; just like any other girl (right?). But at the same time, I don't need that guy to be my soul mate. Maybe my idea of a soul mate has changed though. I want a best friend who's attractive. That's all. That's all a stable relationship needs to be, right?
I don't know.
Today has bee a really weird day.
First snow of the fiscal year, today. Whoop.
I've been trying to write a new blog for about a week now, and though I have a lot of ideas, none of them are good enough to follow through on. So I'm just going to write.
Writing is good. Free writing is good, too. I should do it more often, as my writing skills are really only tuned up in the essay writing department. I haven't written a poem in a while. Yeeshhhhhhhh. But all I want to write about is Peter, and I don't want to be like, 'mleh mleh mleh I only talk about my boyfriend.' This whole keeping proper distances at proper times thing is difficult.
I dyed my hair? Back to my typical dark brown.
I'm getting pretty bored with Saint Saens again (surprise, surprise). I think because I'm finally at a very good level of technique with it, I have to bring myself to think in terms of a new level of technique- the concerto competition level...
I'm entering into four concerto competitions this year (top prizes being $500, a $500 scholarship, $800, $2000). If I win all of them, which is a little far fetched, but hopefully attainable, I should be that much closer to paying my first year of college. Ahahaha... College is expensive..... (NERVOUS LAUGH).
I have this silly habit of remembering the most obscure things at really random times, and laughing about them to myself. I feel like a lot of people might have the same habit, but I really appreciate being able to do such a thing.
The flashbacks tend to be pretty personal. They're the kind of scenes in movies that reveal the depths of the characters. They're the kind of scenes that Ashton Kutcher would travel back to in 'the Butterfly Effect.'
If I had a superpower, I would most definitely want to be able to control time. I've had this one thought out for quite a while. I'd be able to stop, rewind, fast forward- the works. And, whenever I held someone's hand, they could come back in time with me; as long as we remained in physical contact with each other, they would be anywhere in time with me. Also, I could make them forget everything once time starts back up again, if need be.
It'd be the best power in the world. I kinda got the idea from the Molly Moon book series when I was pretty young, and then just expanded on it as time went by.
It'd be the besssstttttt power in the world. Ever.
So anyway, the flashback I thought about just ten minutes ago happened my sophomore year. I can't say much about it, because like I said, it's pretty pretty personal. But it was a good memory, and now it's a great memory because of the circumstances in the present. Ugh. I was soooo happy. (:
I may be one of the only people on Youtube who doesn't attribute this song to weed, but hey.
You know when you have those days when everything you say in your head makes no sense what so ever, so you just don't speak? And then everything gets real awkward, real fast?
Because when you open your mouth, something like, "I thoroughly enjoyed your presence!" instead of just, "see ya!"
Yeahhhhh.
But then again, that's okay. Because today I was able to be totally awkward around my friends and still have fun.
Don't just dress in black when you go to a Halloween party. I remember back in like, first grade when I went to one dressed as a Monarch butterfly with these amazing wings my mom hand painted for me that I could take on and off. But whenever I took them off, Jordan B. would always call me a black worm.
I forgot my broom and hat tonight, and kind of relived the whole black worm scenario. But I wasn't nearly as popular as I was back in first grade. (Unless I was really just completely delusional, and thought I was popular when I really just was a weird little shit.)
Today I had my lesson with Tyrone Greive at UW Madison. It was sooooo worth it, and I'm really really happy I got the chance to work with him again (after the music clinic during the summer).
And I breathed almost all the time (;
But seriously- sometimes, or for me, a lot lately, I've been kind of discouraged about how 'good' I sound. I love working with new people. It's so much fun. I'm just so scared I'm going to disappoint. Hopefully I didn't disappoint Professor Greive. I thought I improved a lot over the course of that hour. But that's just me.
I like Professor Greive. He's full of stories and advice, and makes a lot of funny analogies to help you. He compared my hands to the democrats and republicans outside of the capital, and said that 'they sometimes just don't want to work together at all!' And even though I was kind of embarrassed, I thought it was the funniest thing ever.
So, I'm a happy person lately. Hopefully it's a long term thing, but as of late, I definitely am.
Anyway, today I was reminiscing, or rather, just thinking about my state and theory of mind about two months ago when everything was just shit.
I basically came up with this- when you're not happy, you think that everyone around you who seems genuinely happy isn't, and they probably are just a lot better at hiding their problems than you are. Which can be true, but it's rare. Truth is, I'm just happy.
I'm allowed to have meh days. I used to think being happy meant being consistently smiley and ready for anything. But guess what? I'm tired as hell, I'm super horny all the time (a feeling which I consider to be bad, considering I hold back on a lot of that stuff), and my grades aren't as good as they could be. BUT YOU KNOW WHAT??
I'm still okay. My pros in life outweigh the cons by like, 1000 percent.
So, I recently heard a quote, and I forget from where, but I really liked it. It was like...
"Every day might not be a good day, but there are good things that happen in every day."
So today I made a list of three things that are good today. All by 1:00 pm.
1. I get to go to the chiropractor for the first time in like, three weeks. Yayyyyyy, no more spinal pain!
2. I got a ten outta ten on my discussion questions in English. (trust me, huge achievement.)
3. I had a dream in GERMAN last night. Ich war sehr froh.
4. I recaptured the passion for my Saint Saens's piece today by thinking of the plot of Hamlet, and relating it to the concerto. OH MY GOD it sounded good. I was very happy. Sooooo. I'll post my concerto for the song of the day today (:
Now. When the violin first comes in, I was like, ugh. I'm Hamlet. Mrahhh. I'm pissed because my daddy died, but I'm noble and shit.
Thennn, In the slower part that starts on the second page, I was like, Hamlettttt, this is Opheliaaaaa and Horatioooooo and we're a little concernedddddd. Cool it. and then like, Okay, I'm Hamlet, and I'm chillin' out.
Then the main theme comes back again and there are a bunch of runs. In this part I was like, Mrah mrah mrah I dislike Claudius and am plotting against him, mrah mrah mrah. TENSION IS BUILDINNNGGGG.
Then the slow theme comes back, and I play it with a little more agitation... and I'm like, This is Opheliaaaa and I'm crazyyy nowwwwww. and that part ends with Laertes being like, Well... she's dead.
AND THEN THE THEME COMES BACK. and I'm like, Blooooodyyy murderrr scenessssssss.
So, that's my interpretation. XD
My mother is so incredibly neurotic. I love her anyway, but up until now I've mocked her for it and got quite frustrated with her for not thinking things through rationally.
And the thing is, I don't even think her neurotic-ness is self-confidence based. Though I could be wrong, I think it's just how she's been programmed based on the circumstances of her life- QUESTION EVERYTHING!!
But now of course, I see a lot of that in me. I don't have particularly low self-esteem, but Jesus, I'm over thinking e'erthang lately.Mother of Christ. I just like. Meh. Everything.
So no, the apple doesn't fall far from the tree. But hopefully the apple's rational/seedy core will allow the apple to have a chill relationship with the apple from across the orchard. 'Cause the apple from across the orchard is nice, funny, and pretty cute.
And I got a job. at Great Harvest Bread Company. Oh, my God, Thank you so much.
So happy.
Anyway. Other than that, not a lot has been going down.
I'm smiling a lot more now, and considering I've been this way since about a week before homecoming, I figure it's a pretty good bet to say I'm legitimately getting better at this whole 'fun' thing. Yeahhh.
Things I'd Like To Say to My Boyfriend, But Would be Super Embarrased of No Matter His Reply.
"OH HAII, BOYFRANN."
Why I wouldn't say it: Because caps lock means loud. And therefore, obnoxious. Also, saying 'Oh haii' is a guilty pleasure I don't like admitting to, and I hate girls who say 'frann' instead of 'friend,' and am not willing to be one of those girls. Except for in my head. When I say stupid stuff.
Calling him 'boy-boy'
Why I wouldn't say it: I actually came up with this one while I was with Ed. He was confused. So now I just call my cat boy-boy.
"I adore your heartbeat."
Why I wouldn't say it: God damn it, I really do wanna say this one. But not while we're cuddling or whatever, because then I just want to hear his heartbeat. And then I'd feel cheesy saying it afterwards. Even though it's totally true.
"You have a wide nose. It matches your smile. Nice proportions."
Why I wouldn't say it: Um. Because it's another one of those really awkward observations I make. I could say it. But I'd probably blush from embarrassment. Because it's awkward.
"Your hair is so flippy."
Why I wouldn't say it: See the last quote.
"I feel out of place by your side. But it's a nice out of place. I really like it. Maybs we should hold hands when we are at school?"
Why I wouldn't say it: Because I'd much rather just hold his hand and keep the awkward narrative out of the way.
"It's weird. I've always had a thing for percussionists."
Why I wouldn't say it: I don't know. Because it refers to boys I've liked/loved in the past? And that's weird? And awkward? Yeah.
"Eeheehee. You're supah cute."
Why I wouldn't say it: Because I have more creative ways of saying it. hehehe.
Like this.
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V
So, I didn't get concertmistress. But I got co-concertmistress, so I do sit first chair for Sibelius. (: I'm soooo happy! And the rest of the time I sit assistant. Which is amazing. I'm so proud of myself. I worked hard. And I HAD A SURGERY, and still got my chair. Loooooveeee :D
Anyway.
That's really all I had to say.
So, I was working on my essay for my Peabody Institute application, and I remembered how amazing the UW Madison Summer Music Clinic '11 was. That seriously was the best week of my life.
So, I've kinda realized that when I entered high school, everyone that I've known has been through someone else that I know from my past. So it's not like I'm making... original friends? I don't know what you would call it... but you know what I mean? Not that those people mean any less to me. I love them. But it makes me feel like I'm bad at making friends and won't be able to thrive in college, where I'll know nobody.
But at the summer music clinic I totally made friends. All by myself. And I felt so good about it. I even danced in public without feeling self-conscious. I was CONFIDENT! Woah. Crazy. But at the same time, I was pushed to get better at music at a new level. It was so worth it. I'm so so so so so so glad I went. I love music so much. Sigh.
And today, after writing my Peabody essay and then listening to a bunch of Dvorak, Ravel and Debussy, my mood just totally spiked. And having Peter in my life is pretty awesome too. Because now, when I daydream about dancing to the tempo di valse from Dvorak's string serenade in E minor, I can actually dance with my boyfriend, and not some faceless character.
I guess I love myself now. It's weird to say that, and it still sounds a little conceited to me. But it's not supposed to sound that way. I'm happy. Which is good.
So, when I do something that is embarrassing, I normally say to myself, "You know what, I don't really care what others think." Which seems like a good idea. But lately I say something more like, "You know what, that's okay, I'm human." And for some reason it helps a lot.
Because I've always loved humanity. We're amazing, humans. We're cool shit. But it always seemed like I've been looking and loving humanity from the outside, like I don't belong with the rest of everybody. So when I reassure myself that I'm just like everyone else, that I AM Human, it makes me feel a lot better. Which is nice.
Maybe we should all say that more. "It's okay," instead of "I don't care." It has a lot more of an optimistic ring to it than the latter.
Dream world girl, bow in hair and falling down a rabbit hole.
You aren't okay here.
Go Back To Where You're from.
A Message from Demeter:
She lost her daughter to these demons.
You may lose more than that.
Go Back To Where You're from.
Morality dangles, half dead inside of you. Persephone was a good girl once, too.
Don't be ignorant.
Think of her.
You know she is upset.
To lose her.
To lose him.
I could play with three fingers. Hell, that's an even better situation than Django. I mean. He played guitar with two.
IT JUST WON'T WORK!
It gets tense. And it won't vibrate. And I can't play octaves. And I wanna cry. :( Because even when I have the inspiration and energy to keep playing Saint Saens, I feel like ripping my pinkie finger off my hand because it's just useless and won't work for me. I'm firing my pinkie. It's laid off as of now.
Suggestions?
Forbidden Friend-
You mesmerize me and
Turn my Brain limp and
Mash it through your fingers
Forbidden Friend,
Your smile reassures me
But your past stabs me
In the gut
Undecipherable mumbles
I'm ninety percent sure it's not okay
Forbidden Friend,
I could never betray my equal
But what is betrayal
When ages and miles separate
The equivalent?
Forbidden Friend,
Rationality tells me this is not love.
Rationality tells me this is infatuation.
Rationality tells me to stab my hand.
Rationality tells me to leave my home,
To spit on the sidewalk.
But I stride on.
So, my German student is gone back to Bavaria, and my cyst is out of my wrist. And I'm pretty content with how most things are going. except. like. school. yeah.
I don't know. I've been studying- I really have. But my first test grade in english was a D+, and I keep getting B- es in Psych.
I'm just lucky I'm not in Calc. That was a good decision on my part.
I feel like there's not really much to say. Except for the fact that I'm pretty chill lately. Everything is kind of nicely average- not too perfect, not too awful. I hope though, when I try to make it even better, that it doesn't fall apart on me. That would suck. A lot.
I've also noticed that Jenna Hamilton from 'Awkward' reminds me a lot of myself. Yes, the show is a bit of a guilty pleasure, but Jenna is relatable, not crazy super duper neurotic like most tv teen girl characters are, and she's got great hair. I recommend it. Maybe I'm just living through her vicariously. I do want nicer hair.
From The Awkward Soundtrack Blog on MTV.com
I'm lame sometimes.
It sucks when you're rejected before the letter even comes.
Or before you even audition. Arghh.
I've been trying to contact some violin professors from some colleges that I want to go to. And yeah, maybe I've been asking every single professor I can get my hands on to give me a lesson. But when one of the professors you've been wanting to work with the most says, "It seems you're auditioning teachers when, actually, it goes the other way around," and then tells you she won't give you a lesson, you feel kind of bad about yourself.
I forgot what it was like to feel embarrassed. I kinda wanna cry. :(
But I have to tell myself its not the end of the world. Right? It's not... My career isn't ruined because I was too eager to begin, right?? That would be one hell of a sign from God.
Maybe I should just stick to not contacting teachers at all. It'd be easier. And cheaper. And...
Oh my God, I feel so bad. :(
I think it's funny when God finally gives you what you want, but not exactly the way you asked for it, it's more just like a "shut the fuck up, kid, be patient." And you finally realize it, and are like, "Oh, sorry... Okay."
I also like to believe that God swears. Even though he is so divine, he has no need to swear. God created ghetto-ness, so why wouldn't he have a little ghetto in Him?
Yes, I have finally been scared back into my place as young musician with very little social goals. I don't need a boyfriend until college. College, or maybe Grad School, or maybe after I get my Doctorate....... Well, though I'd like one before hand, I'm much to scared to really accept myself to be with anyone else. Introvert^70034656545565274288888888 power.
ANYWAY.
Today in Youth Symphony, Dr. Becker told me I was a beautiful player :D
Which makes me sehr happy. Because it means, though I was super nervous and on a major sugar high during rehearsal (thus being not at my best playing wise), I've still got a good chance at concertmistress. I just don't want this whole deal to get in the way of solo work for college. I have to start working on my etudes and scales again. So my repertoire is going to be like, 2 1/2 hours long. Awesommmmmeeeeee.
Today in my psychology class, we were discussing behavioral habits of men and women from 'the other side.' And a lot of the guys were saying how women are extremists when it comes to emotion. And then there would be a retort along the lines of, "but we think we have to be perfect!" and then it would kind of come full circle. And the whole time, I was thinking, 'but... at least I can reason my way out of acting so blatantly pissed off, or excited, or whatever the emotion may be at the time...'
So later, Alyssa and I were reminiscing about this class discussion, and she said, "I think I'm just too much of a guy for that kind of discussion."
And I told her, "Yeah, I feel like I may be neurotic but-"
And she cut me off with, "Paige, you're neurotic. You're a chick."
Yeah.
I'm not that completely neurotic though, am I? I mean, I'm passionate. So I feel deeply. And I'm paranoid about stupid things. But I reason my way through them most of the time, and therefore don't really ever bring my neurotic-ness into conversation. But yeah.
I'm a chick. I really am.
And that's okay.
Because guys date chicks,
and I really want a boyfriend. I'm focusing on that maybe a little too much... but I'm allowed to feel sexual urges. I'm a teenager, too.
Because I've had it stuck in my head for the past week.
Well, I've been practicing three-ish hours a day for the past two weeks. Accomplishment! yay.
But my hands hurt :( My calluses are getting thicker, which is good, but my hands are feeling pretty stiff because of the ganglion cyst. And my Bach doesn't sound totally awesome...
But my Saint Saens is pretty good, and I'm relearning Mozart's fifth for college auditions. All in all, my repertoire is:
SAINT SAENS Concerto No. 3 In B minor Mvt. 1
MOZART Concerto No. 5 Mvt. 1
BACH Sonata No. 2 Adagio and Allegro
DONT etude
scales...
arpeggios......
and YO Music.
I've definitely got a chance at concertmistress though, so I'm glad I've been focusing on YO music a little more. A lot more, actually, but I'm toning it down a little from here on out.
WOO.
Also, I'm not delusional. The guy I kinda sorta like has been officially validated as sexy by my friend Alyssa, even if Alexis seems to think he's a little boy. I need to turn on the sex appeal. hehe. riiiiiight.^^;
The sexiest song in the repertoire, to get me on a roll ;)
SO. It's finally here. And this year is gonna be a blast. I have awesome classes (never mind them all being AP and obnoxiously time consuming), with friends that I haven't seen all summer and 3 OFF HOURS!!
I'm also taking an online course (AP Music Theory). So I got bored and decided to make a vlog dealy focusing on my online text. Actually, I made like, five.
I have been getting up every day at 6:30 am so I can actually look good and feel good about myself. It's been a little tiring (I went to bed at 9:45 last night), but it's been worth it. I don't know if I feel more confident, I'm getting hit on, or it's a combination of both... but it feels good. And it, surprisingly, allows me to do better in school as well, and I'm thus more apt to do homework and practice a lot.
I have a ganglion cyst though... which is awful because it's adding pressure to my wrist and I REALLY don't want tendonitis. My first orthopedic appointment for it is the 19th. I have a lot of stuff coming up though. So I hope it doesn't interfere with performances. :(
Today, I planned on waking up to a 9:00 am sun- the 'birth of brunch-time', kind of sun.
But NOOOOO. It was overcast. Which was okay. I turned on my light and started practicing. It started raining. Which was also okay. I pretended that the more passionately I played my Bach, the more outrageously the rain would pour. And it got pretty bad- my window looked like I'd been taking my house through a carwash of epic proportions. Awesome.
Until Jade yelled from the other room that there was a tornado warning and Mom wanted us downstairs...
So, unfortunately, citizens of the Fox Valley, Johann Sebastian Bach and I are the causes of the thousands of power outages, the split and tipped over trees, the live wires on the ground downtown and the wretchedly branch-y streets. Sorrryyyyyyyyy. But, at least I played well!
While I was downstairs, hiding from the insane wind, instead of at my LESSON that I had to cancel AGAIN this week, I skyped my best friend who is off in Denmark (the country, not the town) and annoyed my cats. And I really only practiced for about fourty-five minutes this morning. If even. yayyyyyyyyyyyy...
Often called 'the Storm movement,' this piece is all too appropriate. Even though our storm was partial to Bach, not Beethoven.
Not sure. But I got my senior portraits all finished up, thanks to my wonderfully talented best friend/sister, I drew a nice design (http://ericksonp.deviantart.com/#/d48l39g) inspired by Scarlett Johansson, and I watched A LOT of TV. Which is always... nice. But today I particularly liked it for some reason. AND I wiped my face with astringent like, 50 times. It felt niceeee. But kinda dry.
I... didn't... practice... though...........
I practiced a lot yesterday. But I have a lesson tomorrow morning and I don't feel super prepared. And it's too late to practice now. :( I guess I'll wake up early. UGH. I'm so naughty sometimes.
BUT IT'S SEPTEMBER!! So that means college apps, here I come. (!)
Yesterday was my last day of babysitting. For sure. :D
Not saying that I hated them. I just got extremely, extremely annoyed.
Yet, ever since I started babysitting the girls full time, I've had these weird daydreams about being a mother. Not at 17, mind you. But daydreams where I just got my bachelor's degree, and I'm pushing my baby in a stroller. And I like it.
I should get a boyfriend. Not to have a baby. Just to have a boyfriend.
I feel like my life has been a little lacking art wise, lately. But I think it's going to improve once I get back in school. Music is going to be everywhere- with three off hours (including lunch) I'm going to be practicing all the time. I also am taking an online version of AP Music Theory, which should be really nice if I get a 4 or 5 on the test. But I digress. I think I'm going to start designing clothing again. And posting on deviantart.com.
I wish I could play this like her :o
Guess i'll have to practice.
I keep having these annoying dreams. They're about people I really like- such as family members, or really good friends, but in the dreams I get in fights with them and in the morning I end up avoiding them or finding everything they do aggravating.
And it sucks, because last night I had one about my mom.
Which is on a totally different scale of bad, because I've been feeling rather distant from her lately. I really miss her. I miss being her 'kid,' because now I'm just her teenage-almost-adult daughter, and I'm having issues with feeling not loved. Even though I know I am loved immensely by this woman. It's just in a different way, now that I'm older.
But I woke up to day wanting nothing to do with her... It's awful. I'm really frustrated and I feel pretty depressed. Bleh.
I hate that moment of, “OOOHHHH!” you get when you see something you might really like. Like a hot guy, or a prom dress. And then when you move in to get a closer look, it’s just a downer. :/
Incredibly, the dress which I received yesterday in the mail was a huge downer.
THUS
My quest for the perfect prom dress continues. Awesome.
Also, I suck at hand sewing. I've known this for a long time, yet I continue to attempt to make a perfect loop-de-doop stitch. And I lost my seam ripper. eaufdasdashfueca.
Hand sewing is especially hard with black thread on black velvety fabric. Just so you know.
You know it's going to be an interesting/eventful day when you wake up at 10:00 am, feel fully rested and not angry, and actually want to play through your Bach.
At least that's how it is for me.
And it's 2:17, and I've already showered, gotten ready for the day, took my violin to Peter Yang's to get a new bridge carved for it, ate at MacDons, taken my cats outside to chill, and am now writing a blog. WOO!
My best friend, Alexis, told me the other night that I should just start forcing myself to get up earlier, and to be proactive. Because it would make me feel better. And surprisingly, it has. Not that it's surprising that she was right.
I also finally got my prom dress in the mail. It looks a little awkward, but I like it, and would rather have it altered and what not because it's so pretty.
All I know, is I'm ready for school. Fo sho.
I've had this song stuck in my head all day. Aweesommeeeee.
In order of realism to somewhere off in the future.
TO DO:
1. The rest of the dishes.
2. Take out the trash.
3. Take my cats outside, because they keep sitting at the door and begging me.
4. Make and then eat some healthy, hearty recipes. Preferably with potatoes.
5. PRACTICE. (So as to compete and win in several competitions, play with an orchestra, get into a good college on an AWESOME scholarship, and be concertmistress of YO!)
6. Get a job.
7. Propose Saint Jude's idea to... whoever.
DONE LIST:
1. half of the dishes (I think Jade should do the other half.)
2. Written a blog whilst meditating on my long and short term goals.
3. Took Itzhak outside for about 20 seconds.
4. Applied to Great Harvest Bread Company, with no response in 2 weeks.
I know I should be getting to bed right now. I also have a very serious urge to pee.
But I feel like writing a blog, so I shall do this before I tend to my more serious needs.
I actually have no idea what to say.
I found myself lying on my bedroom floor staring at the ceiling today. Twice. This is kind of bad, as I attribute staring at my ceiling while laying on my floor with serious depression. Before I got on medication, I used to do this every day. And cry. A lot.
But.
Now it's just more of a I'm-feeling-useless/shitty/infuriated-deep-within-my-soul/agitated kind of thing.
I don't like the sensation of my floor, because I know it just means I'm not in a good place. I know it means I'm digging myself into a horrible rut, if I find myself doing it continually. And I know, when it is the only sensation that can bring me relaxation, and when I end up doing it continually, multiple times a day-
No good can come of this.
I must start practicing more. I must stop spending so much money. I must start drinking more water and waking up before 11:30. or 11:00. We'll go with 10:45.
I went to church tonight for the first time in a looooong time.
It's not that I'm not religious. I'm actually quite religious. I pray to God all the time- but it's not a 'conventional' style of praying. And I don't like to worship in a church-y setting. I'd rather sit down in an intimate, trustworthy group of people and speak of philosophy and God and... life. But no, I don't like church. At all.
And tonight started out as the same thing I've experienced every time I've dragged my cynical self to a sermon. People were raising their hands to crappy music with crappy lyrics, praising God and not caring what others thought while I sat, pouting, crossing my arms, and trying (though not very hard) to let God into my heart through this shit-fest. And suddenly- my heart was thumping madly in my chest and I thought I'd done it- I'd opened my heart to God in His house. But no. That was just the obnoxiously loud Bass guitar permeating every molecule of my being. I was extremely agitated.
But then I got to the Youth Group. And it wasn't that bad. Apparently it is typically much more organized and Bible-centric. But. I really loved the disorganized, raw communication among the other kids. I hardly spoke, but listening to the tiny 'sermon' was just what I needed. So no, I don't like church. But apparently there is a group of people out there that I can talk to about God without feeling like a cheese-ball dumb ass.
I remember entering my freshman year of high school. I was naive. I tried way too hard to be something or someone that anybody else would like- instead of just being me. I'm seventeen, and I'm still trying to find 'me.' But you know how it is. There's a difference between letting the mold happen, and trying to control the clay yourself.
Anyway. Then I met Jose. Or rather, re-met, as I'd technically known her since 5th grade, and we happened to switch to the same school at the same time. She was fun, and quirky, and 'experienced.' And Jose introduced me to Spencer. And Spencer was creative. And he was nice. And funny. And had the most amazing eyes I'd ever seen on a person's face. And I really liked him, really fast. But it was a big secret, that only Jose knew. And Jose supported me. Kinda.
Then Jose went to Mexico for the summer, and Spencer promised to hang out with me, even though I was skeptical that he would, being so incredibly insecure. But he really did keep his promise, and it made me like him even more. And then we became best friends and hung out all the time. It was like I was secretly dating him in my head, but it was forbidden to even think about romance. I decided I loved him.
And I told Jose. And she supported me. Sorta.
Eventually, after time and time again of avoiding telling the truth, wondering if he actually liked me back, wondering if he even though I was pretty, and crying after I missed another chance, I did tell him. And I was elated to know that he didn't care, and it wouldn't ruin our friendship. He'd kept his promise before, after all.
But he didn't keep it that time. He ignored me- avoided me, even. After I'd considered him my best friend for about a year. It was devastating. Completely heart breaking. I don't even care about the multiple cliches I just used. It was awful.
And Jose stopped supporting me, basically. She told me, in a sugar-coated, manipulative way, to get over it. But our friendship fell apart shortly afterward anyway.
Well this is getting long.
Anyway, I had to learn to cope with Spencer's and Jose's presences, due to the fact that all their friends are still my friends. For the most part. And the process was awful- I still can't look Jose in the eye without wanting to scream at her. But Spencer and I are cool- he's changed a lot, and is not even a fragment of the boy I used to love, but we say, "hi" in the hallways.
NOW.
My sister is going through practically the same thing that I went through with Spencer (minus the Jose). And I wish I could help her. I know she'll get over it in time. She's strong. But I wish I could sit here and tell her this story and make her feel better. But I can't, because she saw me live through it, and we weren't friends at the time so it didn't effect her in the slightest.
So part of this blog was to admit to people a very long story. Because it says a lot about me, and about how I am. And it lets people know how things went through my eyes, even if they were told the story by another.
But the bigger part of this (maybe not writing wise, but emotion wise) is Jade. I want to help her. I just don't know how. I hate feeling helpless.
A toast, to things that never happened, if even for the best.
Today I played a duet with a friend for her senior recital. I got to reunite with some people who went to college last year, and I realized again today how far I am behind. Monica (the girl I played with) played the Khachaturian Violin Concerto, which is one of the coolest pieces I can think of. I want to start a new piece. I want to push myself... I mean, Saint Saens is awesome. I love him. I love his compositions. But after playing him since November, I just want to move on. Or play him big time, and actually have a super big goal. Not just, "Oh, yeah, I'm playing Saint Saens 3rd violin concerto for college auditions- for three judges. tops."
I wanna play Saint Saens for 300+ people.
And then play Tchaikovsky (:
Because Bruch is kind of easy.
Or Ysaye...
I just need to practice. Big time.
I hope it gets easier to push myself this year.
Even though that might sound really dumb...
I want it so bad.
I should probably be eating right now
...but I'm not....
I'm on the computer writing down whatever it is in my head right now. I didn't even come to this site to post something in particular- just... something.
There are a few really good panini joints in my town/city/whateverthisis.
And I really want a panini. But I spent a good amount of money yesterday on clothing for school (all of which happen to be super comfy), so I probably should back off of spending so much. I only have $1600 in my college savings account, and I'm going to be a senior. I really hope all those savings bonds I got from my great grandma help me out. Lately I've been obsessing about finding a homecoming/prom/senior recital dress. I just want to be like Sarah Chang :o
She's so beautiful and talented- she really inspires my own playing.
<-----Right?
But it's suprisingly hard to find a dress in my style that'll work for all three events. I wish I could steal from her wardrobe... And alter everything to my size. I actually have no idea what her measurements are. But whatever.
foI feel as though a lot of young women I know have either really high expectations, or really low expectations when it comes to a relationship.
It's said so much that girls these days are conditioned to develop what I call 'Cinderella Syndrome.' Wait for the Prince and then you'll be okay. And the impatient girls, or the girls lacking morals, or low self esteem end up sleeping around.
I seem to view things in extremes. I digress.
Why am I the only one I know who seems to be happy just being content? I don't expect love at first sight, I don't expect a fabulous relationship from the start to the finish. I just expect a mutual idea of hard work in a relationship, and a 'Be Okay by Ingrid Michaelson' look at things... If I'm making any sense at all.
Maybe that's because my first relationship was so incredibly easy though.
What am I talking about?
That shit was ridiculous. Being 5 hours away from a guy after three months of bliss is pretty... ugly.
I think I just really want a boyfriend. Ugh. Annoying. I Wanna Hold Your Haaaaaaaaaaannddddddddddd!
Anyone's, really. Well, Anyone with a sweet personality, loyalty and a nice face.
I'm sorry I don't have the same capacity other teens do to function on an hour of sleep and still get awesome grades. Does my depression effect that? I'm sure it does, but I've also been raised to go to bed at a semi-regular time every night, and to get a good amount of sleep so as to function at my full capability. I'm still only getting around 8 hours a night (recommended for teen = 9.75 hours), and I'm totally exhausted. How do other teenagers do it?
I mean, I guess I have a severe case in some ways. No study halls, No lunch on a school day, three-ish hours of homework a night, and violin stuff too... but you'd think the time I get off would be able to replenish my body and mind. And I sense myself getting worse by the day.
I also don't really know what fun is for a normal teenager. Fun for me, I've finally figured out, is having witty conversations about philosophy, history, music, and other arts. I like intelligence- it allows me to make better jokes. My mother and peers to perversion as I am to intelligent humor. But everyone I talk to these days doesn't much indulge in a quote like,
"The components and theory behind a diminished scale is like a Transcendental revelation!"
Oh well.
Thursday, April 14, 2011
Just done with a concert, wishing farewell to the seniors this year and to Mr. Wolfman, who has been an awesome mentor for the past three years.
I've been sick for the past few days, and it's really tiresome. I have so much to do, and more makeup work is not helping. I did, however, get lucky and manage to stay home sick on a day that didn't particularly matter.
I'm so ready to be done. And I know it's only going to get worse from here on out, with more homework, the ACT coming up, AP tests, and that scholarship audition... I really need to start practicing more. Like my scales- I'm supposed to be comfortable in the major, natural minor, harmonic minor and melodic minor three octave scales and arpeggios from G to C#. I'm really really really really not comfortable in most any of them. Dammmmnnnnnnn ittttttttt.
Plus, with being sick, I'm not really eating. Which is bad, because I need to gain weight, not lose it. I've been quivering all day. And I don't just want to mow on Oreos until I'm healthy enough to donate blood. I want some balance in my diet... but it's so hard to find vegetables worth liking. I'm warming up to them.
Song of the Day:
George Gerswhin's 'An American in Paris'
(I played an abridged version of this piece in eighth grade for Middle Level State Honors Orchestra, and loved it automatically. It was the piece that introduced me to subtle jazz-classical music and to Mr. Gershwin in general, and I'm so glad I got the opportunity to play it, even if it wasn't the real thing.)
Today I found out one of my friends who I never see anymore got into some trouble. Like, serious, moral-dilemma trouble. And it made me wonder if I should laugh, or if I should cry on her behalf like that freak who did the youtube video "LEAVE BRITNEY ALONE!!"
I didn't realize that so many teenagers don't really understand the importance of decision making, or of moral behavior. Yes, we're young, and we should treasure it while we can, but am I going to be the one who missed out on so much, just because I didn't want to get into big time trouble?
And when did everybody become so dishonest? So manipulative? So... uncaring and unsympathetic? I know I'm not the only one who thinks telling a lie is a bad thing. I know I'm not the only one who feels like they don't know which path to choose, or which influence to be taken by. I know I'm not the only one who wants to show that I actually understand others, but just sits because I feel like my help won't be accepted. Damn. The world is so...closed off.
Revelation!
I am indeed shocked and awed my friend, who I used to be so close with, would get into this sort of trouble. I'm shocked that other friends have had to deal with death, with abandonment, with heartbreak, or with down-right hate at such a young age. It's sad. The world isn't a bad place, but Pandora's box seems as though it was just tossed aside and forgotten by the young. Maybe I'm just finally entering a new stage of 'growing up.'
On the upswing, however! I finally felt creative for the first time in a long time today. I wrote a poem in the style of Emily Dickenson with ease about my blue feet, and I wrote a chord progression for what seems to be the beginnings to a really cool piano sonata/concerto/whatever. It made me feel good to release myself into the music- I feel like a constructive individual again. So, although I was shocked and awed by a stunning revelation, my day wasn't so bad.
Piece of the Day:
George Gershwin's 'Rhapsody in Blue,' performed by Leonard Bernstein (the god)
So, I've been thinking up quotes today (that are worth quoting me on) and I've gotten two. I'm very tired, so they may not be as good as I think they are but. The first one is the title of this particular entry. The second one is as follows:
"I'd rather be blind and feel the sun's warmth than see darkness all around me."
I wish I could live by that quote. The truth is, lately it's hard to try to see past the bad stuff. I know it's that way for a lot of people this time of year. But I'm really tired of dealing with it. We'll see how things work out with a medication.
But that's not my point. um. my point is.
I honestly have no idea. What is the point of a blog anyway? It's not like a journal- it's too impersonal and too public. It's more personal, though, than a facebook or a myspace. I suppose that I'm having trouble finding the gray space in between the black and white.
Song/Piece of the Day:
(Frederic Chopin, Scherzo in B minor for Piano, Opus 31)
It's hard to try to start something like this out. I've always been bad at beginnings.
Ends can be worse though. But I'm one of those people who takes change and cradles it in her hands and.
Whatever. Yeah.
So. Um?
I am.not going to give a formal introduction. Instead I will post a link to a piece. That I like. Feel free to enjoy.
