Mmmbaby.

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'm A Big Pout-y Face. And I Know It.

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 do love you, Guster!

OOOHHHH Moments.

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. :/

Nicknames

I have nicknames for a bunch of composers. I don’t know if this is just me. But I think it’s clever enough to share.

Shostakovich - Shosty

Bernstein - Berny

Schubert - Shoobs

Tchaikovsky - Chaik

Dvorak - D-Rak

That’s all I’ve got for now. But I’ll come up with more, don’t you worry.



Yeahh, Schoobs.

False Alarm.

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.



HAPPY BIRTHDAY BERNY! (:

Thangs are looking up.

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.

TO DO LIST.

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.

Awesome.

Beddy-Bye.

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.

School will be my savior.



Get it? ACADEMIC Festival Overture?

An Age of Reawakening (Or... Senior Year.)

Phobiac by the Fishsticks
For Saint Jude's? Yeah. I have yet to ask them though.
Or tell anyone who doesn't read my blog.

Jesus Christ.

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.



Hallelujah.

Ah, shit.

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.

Oh, Music, My Love

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.



What a BEAST.

You May Not Want To Read Such a Pointless Blog As This

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.

Wow. This is so pointless.

I'm gonna go get a panini.






I plan on playing this piece. Like a bamf.

An Insight...

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.





For shits and giggles - a guilty pleasure (: