Arm Linking.

When I was in second grade, I had a best friend (Mykayla), and whenever we didn't play four square during recess, we linked arms and talked about womanhood (what little we knew of it). It was our thing.
Then I switched schools, and I found a different best friend (Miranda), and we linked arms in the hallways, and talked about boys, and how our future husbands would be.
I switched schools again, and found another different best friend (Evie) and we linked arms and walked around, talking about middle school and how we were getting so grown up.
Then I went to middle school, and I found a best friend there (Cambria). Our moms were best friends too, so we spent a lot of time together, and of course, linked arms.
Then I got to high school, and I had a best friend (Jose) who I linked arms with.
But now, I'm a senior and I don't really have anyone to link arms with. It's a specific kind of friendship that enables arm linking, and though I have a few best friends now, I keep focusing on how much I want to link arms with a boy. A guy. A man.


I'm so good at being a best friend... So... I guess the next step is to figure out how to be a good significant other. Or you know, find a guy in general.

It's so funny how the least significant things in your life can end up being a very important constant. You only miss what's not there.
Also, this was totally my song in tenth grade.

Collegiate Blathering.

Today in AP Psychology, whilst studying social psych, we finally went over attraction.
Based on the Schacter-Singer Two Factor Theory, (emotion = physical response + a cognitive label), attraction = physical arousal + attribution. A fundamental attribution error could explain why sometimes these attractions are illegitimate, as we apply our attribution/cognitive label to the person's disposition, and not the situation. In English, this means that girls (I) often like guys not because we are (I am) genuinely attracted to them, but because we (I) think they are good looking, and are nice and funny in general, rather than being a good match for us (me).

Basically, our teacher said this, and I was all like, "MIND BLOWN." But it was the middle of class, so didn't actually say anything. I haven't really been saying a lot at all recently. I'm regressing into these awful communication issues I used to have, where I felt expressing myself to my friends, or seeking a 'shoulder to cry on,' is more of a burden to them than a necessity to me.
Also, it's so much easier to write about my thoughts than say them.
I'm going to go to bed I think.

Speak Slow.

I forgot what it was like not being on medication. It sucks. I could hardly smile today. That must be why I dislike everything so much lately. Anyway. I wanted to focus on something other than me for now, considering I read my most recent posts, and they were all extremely self concerned, and that gets boring after a while. So.

gjfdaigkrsehvunifsgjrsehgirjesgrhdfmehhhhhhhhhhhhhh.
nooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooican'tthinkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkk
MyPROMDRESS IS ON THE WAY TO MY HOUSE IT IS ON THE WAY AND I WILL WEAR IT VERY SOON AND YOU CAN'T HEAR ME RIGHT NOW BUT I'M SINGING VERY LOUD IN MY HOUSEHOLD AND THIS IS A VERY LONG SENTENCE. *timpani roll* MY CATS ARE ADORABLE.

I think I'm going crazy.
But honestly, I have nothing interesting to say right now.
Except for the fact that when it comes to infatuation, I am a wishy washy woman, washing all day. I think that's the thing with infatuation. When you want it in your life, it doesn't matter who it's aimed at or if it makes sense. It just consumes you.
But then again, I may not want infatuation in my life. I think I just want to know what it is like to be happy for right now. I need summer.

Shut Up, You Suck.

I have come to a realization. Not recently, but today it was emphasized by... events.
Some people just really suck. Some people just deserve to be told,
"You suck. Go away. I don't like you."
Or hit. That would work to.
Yes, I understand it's a little cynical, but it's absolutely true. I try very hard to see the best in people- in everybody, because good qualities are universal. However today just laughed at me and then kicked me in the gut. Unfortunately, my best friend Alyssa and I have been not feeling the love recently, and we conversed over the subject during a passing time. School is just getting to be way to much of a hassle. Why would you want to go somewhere if you don't have any actual work to do, and nobody likes you while you're there? (Realistically, I know I'm not disliked by everybody, but appreciation is hard to come by these days.)

Enough of that mopey bullshit, though. On the bright side of things, I did my homework for AP Bio and actually understood it, I got to hang out with a good friend tonight, and pit rehearsal for our school musical went splendidly, as I made laugh-worthy jokes, played Tchaikovsky (well) at ♫ = 130 during warm up, and felt a sense of belonging.

There- three reasons why my day was not the worst day ever. (:

I'm Gonna Eat a lot o' Peaches. By Myself.

Today in Sociology, we were reviewing Karen Horney's ideas of the four selves and self defense mechanisms. And I realized- I DON'T LIKE HIM! WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO. Now, for the specifics...

Unfortunately, I came to this realization when I was looking in the mirror today. Isaw myself, but didn't recognize my face immediately. That sort of thing happens only once in a great while, (granted, more this year than ever before) but whenever it does happen, it allows me to see myself from a third party perspective. I can see plainly if I want to change, or stay the same. And thankfully, I don't want to change my appearance. I like how I look. Which is more than I can say I have thought of myself in the past. It's great, actually.

But then I thought about it, and I'm having issues with liking my personality. In the car today, I thought to myself, Why don't you like yourself? First opinions are often wrong. When you don't like somebody simply because of a negative affiliation, just hang out with them and figure out actual reasons you don't like them. Maybe, you just need to spend more time with yourself.
I think that's a good plan. I'll just need to go on a walk, or go shopping by myself, or something. I'm never alone anymore. And being an introvert at heart, that could be why I'm feeling so overwhelmed and tense.

Now, going back to Horney, my defense mechanism for not liking myself- for inner turmoil- is to fall for somebody else. Even if I don't actually like them! You see, I have a lot of physically attractive friends who are nice, smart and talented people. Which makes them... 'easy targets.' I don't know if you would call that reaction formation, or displacement, or... whatever. But I think it is legitimate in its own way.

I may be insane, but at least I have the insight and ability to figure out why.

Better Believe It.

They say self control is a muscle. They also say the tongue is the strongest muscle in the body. Or the heart, if that counts, I'm not really sure. Anyway, I bet my self control muscle is a lot stronger than my tongue or heart. Because honestly, I don't follow my heart a lot. And don't share as much as I should with as many people, leading to a weak tongue. Ew, extended metaphor. You catch my drift though.

But more now than ever, I mus hold my tongue and practice self control. Because if I don't, I will ruin another friendship because of liking somebody. I'm really glad I had the awful shitfest relationship with Spencer that I did, because if I hadn't, I wouldn't catch the warning signs that I am seeing now, and I'd be pretty sad again. I'd be falling in love again, unprepared, and totally just. eaufedsafeimaoc. yeah.

I also realized what a blow to the ego my last 'break up' was, even though it was mutual, and was an extremely rational decision on both of our parts. Why can't I love myself again? Ugh. This is the worst. It makes me so sad. Then again, I haven't taken my SSRI in a few days. So. Now, I am face-masking it and following that up with singing Candide in a hot, steamy shower.



Yeah, I like Disney music, what's it to yah? /:|

French Toast, With A Dash Of Denial.

There's nothing quite like waking up at 8:30 in the morning, making french toast, and listening to Candide. It be-ith a good day.

Even though, for some reason, a lot of anxiety is built up in me. Well, I shouldn't say for 'some' reason. I know why. But it's stupid, and I need to get over it. Right? I mean. Part of it is because of a guy, which is ridiculous. I'm going to college in a mere four months, I really shouldn't be so concerned, or even willing to go for it. I am trying so desperately not to like him, and it's either working (for now) or I'm in denial.

That, and I really wish I had some feed back on music stuff. I'm progressing and everything, it's just leaving me weary without any guidance. I need lessonsssssss!

But hey. For now, I'm just going to enjoy the last twoish months of high school and then summer. And I'm going to try really really hard to not like this guy. God. If I have to come up with another pseudonym, I may die. fjeiawokgbrfeunfircebafsjk.

I Am Amazingly Strange.

There is this contest called, "Are You Pretty Amazing?," and I am trying to write this 1000 character essay for $20,000. That, and to be on the cover of Seventeen Magazine. The prizes are amazing, and are super coveted and worth wanting, but I really just want to communicate my ideas.
The process reminds me a lot of an essay I wrote last year based around NPR's This I Believe. I wrote about humanity, and our amazing capacity for emotion and intelligence, which we should make use of and treasure. And it was incredibly hard to write. Probably because the things that I am most passionate about, I don't know exactly how to express in words. You wanna ask me a thought provoking question? Go for it. But prepare to wait all day for an answer. (It'll probably be super well thought out and insightful, etc., but you'll need to wait for quite some time.)

So. How am I pretty amazing? Pssshhhhhhh. I don't know. I can list accomplishments of mine left to right, tell you my interests, get all philosophical... But I don't want to be amazing. That's not my goal. My goal is to make someone smile. Anyone. Because that's the best.
And I'm obviously not funny enough to do so, so I might as well be sarcastic and insightful. Or play music. Music makes people smile.

I wish I could post this as my essay. But I don't think it's quite what they want. You know. With all. the. fragments. and what. not. teehee.

https://subscribe.hearstmags.com/subscribe/seventeen/91218/IFASP0829?sub_option=1&source=editsite

O For a Man Who Is a Man.

Today, I am in one of those moods. Those girl power, feminist, but still I-want-to-be-as-sexy-as-possible moods.
Maybe it's because I just wrote a feminist-y paper on Jane Eyre. Maybe it's because I read a Thoreau quote this morning about courage (see below). Maybe it's because my local radio station was playing pretty great music today, surprisingly. Song after song I was good with, which is hard when it comes to pop music and me.
But either way, I just danced around my living room in four inch heals for a good twenty minutes.
That, plus Tchaikovsky at ♫ = 120 was pretty much my exercise for the day. I was sweating. A lot. Tchaikovsky is pretty hard. I got it up to ♫ = 100 ish pretty evenly/cleanly. So that made me happy. (: And I have until July to get it up. To... ♫ = 152. So.

"O for a man who is a man, and, as my neighbor says, has a bone in his back which you cannot pass your hand through." - Henry David Thoreau

I want one of those men. Now. Well. One that wants me, too. But you know.

I Am Woman, Hear Me [Talk About Dumb Stuff].

About four years ago, I had my first boy girl sleep over (my mom didn't know then, though she knows now). We were all friends, and no mischief was going to happen. It was just a fun night.
And I called the pull out couch.
And so did two of my guy friends. I remember sleeping on the very edge of the bed all night, uncomfortable, nervous, stiff as a board. And if I would have accidentally cuddled with the guy next to me, because that's just how I sleep (all curled up and hug-y like)? To move would be death.

But I remember waking up at say... 5 : 00 in the morning. And a hand was on my hip.
Maybe it was just the blanket. He probably wasn't awake. He could have just been a curled up hug-y sleeper like me. But I wished that he was awake, fully aware, keeping his love for me secret and just trying to enjoy the moment of me next to him. You know. All that sappy shit.
I tried to breathe slowly; just like when you try to keep quiet during hide and seek. And then I thought, "I need to roll over. Assert myself and my third (which was more now like an eighth) of the bed. He'd take his hand off of my hip, I could go back to sleep, all would be well."
I wished he was smelling my hair. He was soaking me up. He was loving me. Is that so wrong? I realize it may seem neurotic or creepy. But I honestly believe if you dub every action a romantic makes as neurotic or creepy, you wouldn't be able to indulge in the beauty of their daydreams.
I have some pretty awesome daydreams.

Anyway. My point to that little vignette was that today, during one of my sister's photoshoots, we had my friend Casey model with the girls. And they were all so scared of him. Of his touch. Of his fabulous bod. (lol).

I just want somebody to realize I have hips, again.

If Composers Were Colors...

Yes. I really did waste my time doing this.

---

Red -- Paganini / Sarasate  |   Maroon -- Tchaikovsky / Ravel
Orange -- Dvorak   |   Brown -- Bach
Yellow -- Poulenc   |   Gold -- Wagner
Green -- Mozart   |   Green-Blue -- Gershwin
Blue -- Brahms   |   Navy -- Beethoven
Purple -- Mendelssohn   |  Indigo -- Rachmaninoff
Black -- Shostakovich   |   Grey -- Glass 
White -- Chopin   |   Silver -- Bernstein

--

Anyway. I figured out my Senior Recital Repertoire. And it's going to be awesome. I'm super excited. Seriously. I'm so pumped. I just hope that I don't need a five hour nap afterwards, because the repertoire is going to be kind of demanding and tiring.
1. Mozart -- Concerto No. 5, Mvt. 1
2. Tchaikovsky -- Concerto for Violin, Mvts. 2 & 3
3. Dvorak -- American Quartet (Mvt. Undecided)
4. Chopin -- Nocturne in C# minor
3. Sarasate -- Spanish Dance for Two Violins, "Navarre"
 Hmmm. I have a pretty 'bold' repertoire. According to crayola, at least.

Señor Recital?

I've officially decided to try doing a double major in Psychology and Violin Performance. Which should be fun. I don't know. We'll see.

I'm trying to compile my Senior Recital Repertoire. I honestly don't know how long a senior recital is supposed to be. But I really don't want to play Bach for it... It's not that I don't like Bach. It's just that I'm not very good at playing Bach and simultaneously making people like it. Plus, I don't want too many super show-off-y pieces, you know? That could get really annoying really fast.

I thought about learning all of Saint Saens... which could be cool. But. Meh.

Then I though about playing the first movement of Saint Saens and the second and third movements of Tchaikovsky. Which. Would be romantic overload.
Or I could just learn an entirely different concerto. Like Bruch. (awesome.) Or Mendelssohn. (amazing.) And try to play that.... hahaha.

I wish I had a little more guidance. Or lessons... seeing as I haven't taken any of those since December. I could always just ask Yuliya (my kinda teacher) via email, or if we have coffee or something. I'll do that. I'll do some research by myself, narrow my options down
and then go for it. And practice a lot. I have all summer. I can postpone this until August 29th if it comes down to it.

When You Can't Think/Speak/Write, Listen.

After trying, on and off, all day to write a blog about my feelings, I have decided not to. Instead. I'm going to honor Gustav Holst, composer of 'the Planets,' one of the most epic orchestral suites ever. Holst, extraterrestrial planets, and music in general. If I were to set up a concert which I entitled, "the Planets," these would be the representative pieces.

To open the concert, a symphony would play Holst's suite. The movements are as follows:
1. Mars, the Bringer of War
2. Venus, the Bringer of Peace
3. Mercury, the Winged Messenger
4. Jupiter, the Bringer of Jollity
5. Saturn, the Bringer of Old Age
6. Uranus, the Magician
7. Neptune, the Mystic

Then intermission... and then... a lot of violin solos. (:

1. Mars
Kreisler - Praeludium & Allegro

2. Venus
Beethoven - Concerto for Violin, Mvt. 2

3. Mercury
Saint Saens - Havanaise

4. Jupiter
Mozart - Concerto No. 3, Mvt. 1

5. Saturn
Tchaikovsky - Serenade Melancolique

6. Uranus
Dvorak - Violin Concerto, Mvt. 1

7. Neptune
Szymanowsky - Nocturne & Tarantella


It's really a shame that I'm so bored. But I really like music, so.