I Have Confidence In Sunshine/Rain/Me.

Everybody needs a confidence boost once in a while. They do.

I remember just a few months ago, when three friends of mine and I had our first AP Bio Study group. And we ended up just talking a lot about... random shit. And Alyssa and I told the other two attendees, both single guys at the time, how ungodly attractive they both were. We both had boyfriends at the time (she still does), so it was completely innocent, and it was honest and it made them feel good about themselves. And what do you know? A few weeks later, the boy who hasn't had a girlfriend ever before now has a beautiful, funny, incredibly nice girlfriend. I'd like to think that Alyssa and I kinda helped with that. Just confidence wise.

And so, today, when Jade just had to go to the mall to get a new pair of pants, I convinced her to go to DEB and try on some prom dresses with me. All the dresses I tried on fit me perfectly- something I've never ever experienced in my life. Hell, it was hard to find anything that fit me up until last year. Even now it's hard to find stuff that fits a lot of the time. But these dresses? I felt like a princess (with messy hair and no make up).

Every girl deserves her princess days, and I really need mine. They better come soon. Prom... Senior Recital... Etc.?
Also, I finally wrote my scholarship essay.

And so I jammed with Jade to the Offspring.

An Asshole is an Asshole is an Asshole.

Lately, I've been having this inner argument with myself.

Do people change?

One part of me wants to say, "Yes, of course they do. And you need to accept it. Some of your friends are just not the same people any more." It gives me a bitter feeling in my stomach. Like acid reflux mixed with nervous butterflies.

Then the other part of me is like, "No, people don't change. Not in ways that matter. An addict is always an addict. A pushover will always be and has forever been a pushover. An asshole is an asshole is an asshole."

And in ways, both are true. Not everybody gets to be the static character in your autobiography. Then again, I definitely am not a static character. I am one of the most mutable people I know. But I've always had these embedded details that will never leave me. Maybe that's the thing. People don't 'change' and they don't 'not change.'

People have layers. Your outer layers are the most mutable, and the inner are the most constant.

Also, I still haven't written my scholarship applications. Shit.

That Lovin'

You know when you play Mario Bros. and you get to the half way checkpoint on your first time through? No problem whatsoever?
That's where I am right now with the college thing.

I just got back from Chicago, where earlier today I had my audition for Oberlin and my audition for Peabody. And I'm happy with how I did. I screwed up, yeah, but I played musically. And my Saint Saens? Boooootifulllllll! (:

It's those moments when I remember why I practice until my wrist is on fire.
Why I try to scrounge up all the money I have to get new strings, or a rehaired bow.
Why I spend my off hours in a practice room at school, and not doing... actual homework.
Why I'm actually still working in general.

Because to see the smile on the face of the toddler when her and her mother peeked into a practice room to see me warming up on Bach? That gives you the best feeling in the world. It makes your cheeks hurt, because you're so happy you can instill happiness (if not something more than just that) into someone's heart.

Well. I guess I know where I'm going with my scholarship essays now. ha.

Oh Oh Oh Oh Oh Oh Oh Oh Oh No.

Today, I had quite an issue of trying to decide whether or not I liked somebody. Turns out, seeing them and a picture of their girlfriend is a huge turn off. Ha.
Any way. I'm feeling quite overwhelmed at this point, seeing as I have to do all this scholarship stuff, and I'm financially screwed on top of it.
On the bright side, my sister is being tormented by a bitch yet again, (she really does attract trouble in some ways) so I think I'm going to let out some aggression by talking to the girl tomorrow. That may or may not be really dumb. It will either go smoothly, as I will approach her gently, or, if she happens to retaliate, not so smoothly. I may have to get out my mint-condition, hardly used girl claws, and make a mosaic of her face. Which will be difficult, seeing as I may be taller than the girl by a lot, but she definitely weighs more than I do.

All that silly girl shit put aside though, to relieve stress, I may just need to take a bubble bath, drink some chai tea and eat a sundae.


Oh Oh Oh Oh Oh Oh Oh Oh Oh No.

Patience is a Virtue.

Sometimes, I get this really intense urge to just go to UW Milwaukee.
Like, it's not an awful school by any means. I could probably do better, and there's a reason it's my backup school, but there's something about it that just kinda... makes wanna just do it.
Maybe I'm just so scared of rejection that I'm willing to fling myself at the first acceptance that comes my way. But. I mean. There are perks to the school.

I'm getting so stressed out about financial aid. It really is just a bitch. With the fafsa, and that css thing and then the scholarships that I still haven't completed any essays for- I wish it was all a lot easier. I wish I could just go audition, and then be like, "doop doop doop, okay, I'm not gonna pay anything," and they'd be like, "whatevs babeh." Ahh, the magical world in my head.

Either way, I think once I get to Madison, I'll be a super happy camper. And if I make it into Peabody with a really nice scholarship, I'll probably have to call into school, because I'll be so busy running and dancing around in circles. I just have to stick through all this waiting stuff. Be calm. Relax. Practice.

Patience isn't a virtue- it's a vulture gnawing slowly at my sanity.

**To the tune of "Short Skirt, Long Jacket"

Teehee. Oh my God. I shouldn't have put so much effort into this. I should be showering.
------------------------------

I want a guy who'll buy me diamonds
I want a guy who won't make fart noises in class.
I want a guy with really nice hair,
A guy who doesn't ever smell like sweat..

I want a guy who is quite observant
Who's smart, and funny
But isn't an asshole.
He plays a lot of hockey
He's got nice abs
He would mess with the bass,
But he'd probably be serious about, maybe... clarinet...

I want a guy who loves me and really digs Dvorak...

I want a guy who wears decent jeans
I want a guy who has a nice (but not overbearing) treasure trail
I want a guy who'll scrape snow off my car for me
Who never gets whiny just because he failed
He prefers wearing boxers, he loves me in a dress
And Lord only knows he's my philosophic match

He plays a lot of hockey
He's got nice abs
He would mess with the bass,
But he'd probably be serious about.. maybe.. cello...

I want a guy who loves me and really digs Beethoven...

I want a guy who has a good vocal range
But he doesn't sound like he swallowed a crow
At Orchestra rehearsal we'll meet accidentally
We'll start to talk when he asks about a crescendo...

He wants a nice car, but not one that's girly
And he knows that he'll probably never ever get it
He's double majoring in music and science
He's thinking about having a concentration in psychology

I want a guy who loves me and really digs Tchaikovsky...


-------------------------

Time Out.

A poem I wrote while listening to Mr. Brubeck.
-------

He reminds me of jazz,
Of drinking wine,
Of a good nap.
My dizzy daydream lover
Stares into me,
Killing my senses with a hot
Kiss on the neck.
He seizes all intuition.
He whisks away every thought of
present, past and future-
Sends it into a black hole
Where the stars I used to name sit abandoned.
He knows the curvature of my spine,
The soft spot on the back of my head-
He's a deity, and I'm Ginsberg.

We are black and white,
And our obligations are dead.
Toes curling into our feet we try to stand
But fall back into bliss.
Mocking the swans,
We dance in their moonlit swamp.
We crack our necks and howl
Like the dogs we were raised by
While that strange meadowlark,
playing his piano
Laughs at our foolishness.

And soon enough it is done,
And my lips are mine,
And his chest is his,
And the moon is God's,
And He is taking it away.
And I'm no longer Ginsberg,
And he's no longer a deity,
And his name is stuck in my head,
Abruptly shocking my today.

Sounds like a Decent Year.

My mother showed me this the other day.

Quite frankly, I decided to have a little fun with it, and chose the closest four books to me. **Note, I used the first whole sentence on the page.



Jane Eyre (Charlotte Bronte): "I wonder what sort of girl she is- whether good or naughty."

Yildiz Heisst Stern (Isolde Heyne): "Yildiz war froh, wieder allein zu sein." ("Yildiz was happy to be alone.")

Fathers and Sons (Ivan Turgenev): "'And nature is trivial?' Arkadii inquired, looking meditatively into the distance at the brightly colored fields beautifully and softly illuminated by the sun."

Biology Text Book (Campbell and Reece): "The reaction involving ammonia reaches equilibrium when ammonia decomposes as rapidly as it forms."

So... Though I may have one relationship, it'll be broken up rather quickly, but I'll find peace in that through the beauty in this world and my inquisitiveness for life. People are going to wonder if I'm asexual or not, because I'll be abnormally happy for a single person. I guess. XD
Sounds like a pretty decent year.

Cigarettes and Validation.

So, I know a good portion of strings players with tendonitis who use a wrist splint. And for me, a wrist splint is kind of like smoking a cigarette- you know it's a bad sign, but it looks damn cool.
And now... I'm...cool. I guess.
It makes me feel validated. Like, 'yeah, bitches, I practice 2-3 hours everyday.' (even though that's not super impressive to musicians, it makes me feel good that I'm finally at the point where I don't mind practicing for more than 45 minutes...ah, 10th grade.)

So, besides my masochistic ways, I'm doing pretty good. And I'm feelin' independent, I don't really have a crush on anyone, I'm doing well in school... etc. Let's just hope I rest my wrist enough to be able to play like a boss and get into Peabody and Oberlin. Then I'll be set.

Contentedness.

I feel like compared to my peers, I'm an extremely passionate person. I could be wrong, but there are things like life, love, etc. that just really get me. They just make my heart kinda do this fluttery dance thing, and I just wish I could share it with everybody. Like the feeling you get at the beginning of the third movement of the Tchaikovsky violin concerto. In some ways, I wish I could feel that excited and pumped all the time, but my energy would deplete a lot faster because of such.

Is this that 'I'm not letting myself be happy' crap again? Because... I could be that excited about life all the time. I know I have the potential for it. And it might let me sleep better at night. But... why would you want to be happy like that so often? Why isn't settling for contentedness good enough? Maybe things should just be left as a little unsettling in life... Maybe there should always be some discord, just to know that you're alive?

Step By Step, I Got A Whole New Walk.

When I was in elementary school, I was the girl who could come up with a game at the snap of your fingers. Literally. I would challenge people.
"Snap your fingers, and I'll have a game!" I would say. And I would. Although, I'd usually make it more detailed as I went along.

That's how I came up with games like 'boccer,' a mix of basketball and soccer, which was strangely similar to lacrosse; 'the Adventures of Maddie and Carly,' a game my sister and I used to play where I was Maddie, she was Carly, and we would typically be on an adventure in the jungle; and that one game (can't remember the name) where my best friend Mykayla and I would swing our hands, say "a bip, and a bop, and a 1, 2, 3!" jump, and randomly be wherever we wanted to be. For instance, my favorite places where 'the blood stream,' where we rode on red blood cells like innertubes, and Egypt.

I wish I could still have the time to do that kind of stuff. It's weird how you get older, and all that creativity just gets transferred into other parts of your life. All of my creativity nowadays is like, 'art, art, art, serious, serious, serious!'

So, lately, I've been trying to come up with projects for extra credit in Psychology. Although a lot of my ideas are dumb, it's nice to just be like, 'blah blah funny shit blah creative!' We'll see where it gets me. Right now, though, we have to design an experiment testing conditioned responses and all that Pavlovy stuff.

Let the fun begin.

Señor Slide.

Well, it's 2012. The year of my graduation. I'll be 18 in less than three months, and I graduate in about five.

So... when do I start senior slide?
I'm so incredibly paranoid that I'm falling way off track, and am giving up already. But knowing my GPA, I really need to keep on track so that it looks like I'm doing super well. Because even though a 3.45 cumulative is pretty good for a music school, it's still making me pretty pretty worried. I get caught up thinking I'm not good enough, and then I'm just like, "well, screw it!"
And that's bad.
I ought to set a date for the beginning of senior slide. After AP exams? Or... sooner? Or.........
Never?
 :( I NEED SENIOR SLIDE. NOW.

NOW. Not in four months. now.