Its a love story, baby just say yes...

Once apon a time...

It seems all girls, at some point, somewhere in their life, crave a fairy-tale ending. It seems to me that all girls want a Prince Charming, who they've dreamed up in their head, who they have dreamed about, who they have even given a name. Little girls, want Prince Charming to come and do a heroic act, generally including saving her, the little dreamer, and ending in a romantic, perfect ending with two kids, a boy and a girl, Samantha (who would go by Sam) and James, living in a mansion somewhere in Europe, where Prince Charming and the little girl are so grossly rich that they never have to work a day in their married lives. Little girls will play this sort of imaginary game with their friends. Odds are it will happen something like this:

Delaney(7), Hannah(8) and Nicole(5) are playing in the backyard. Hannah is passive, so she lets the younger girls decide the game. Delaney, being the elder of the two decides and tells NIcole, the youngest, that she will love it. Delaney called her game a "Lovey-Dovey" game. Delaney describes her plot line rather along these lines

Delaney: In the beginning, there is a really pretty girl, she has long red hair, green eyes and is a fashion designer in New York. Soon, a Prince from a far off land comes to New York, disguised as a peasant, to ask for a suit from the fashion store the pretty girl works at. At first they hate each-other, then because the Prince has to rescue the pretty girl and they get married, have two kids, named Samantha and James, (Sam would go by Sam because she was a tomboy) and they would life in a palace in London where the Prince would be so rich that they lived happily ever after. Wanna play it?

Nico: Sure! I wanna be a puppy.

Hannah: Am I the girl or the boy?

If you haven't guessed, Delaney was the neighbor girl who lived across the street. All of our games were some-sort of variation of this plot (whether we were animals, people, dragons, Pokemon or WHATEVER...) Soon after the first few "Lovey-Dovey' games, I began adding to the plot, twisting it a little, having a guy the Pretty Girl was already interested in, who happened to always be a conceited jerk, and Prince Charming was forbidden to marry her, or some other variation.

The point of the story being, I was a little girl. I played the same plot-lines over, and over, and over... I imagined a perfect boy who would sweep me off my feet, who would be just above my height, not spectacularly tall, no shorter than me, blue-grey eyes, charming, godly, gentlemanly, strong, handsome, light brown or dirty blond hair, adventurous, gentle, smart, musical... the list of adjectives went on... I found a few guys who fit my list, which I think was probably bad for me.

As long as I have been imagining romantic endings to anything I have been writing stories, where handsome, winsome boy meets plain, sweet, unassuming girl, boy pursues girl, girl falls hopelessly in love with boy, boy cherishes girl, girl sacrifices gets hurt (or captured by villains, locked in a castle, lost in a forest, kidnapped by another boy who loves her too, etc), boy has to risk himself to save girl and after girl recovers they get married, have two children, Samantha (who goes by Sam) and James, they go off and life in a lovely, extravagant, stone house in Ireland, on a plateau overlooking the ocean where they had horses and went riding everyday.

I only have one question: WHY?!? Why does that seem perfect? Its illogical! Its improbable, nothing in life happens the way the fairy tales do. What seems right about them? They're disappointing. Unfilling. Fairytales only make me more aware of the empty spot in my heart that will be filled by my husband.

Thats the answer. The answer is that there is a spot in every girl's heart that craves affection. That craves affection and approval and acceptance from the male race. Girls, from the moment they first become aware of it want to fill that empty spot in their heart. For me it was creating love stories, over and over, reading them, playing them, writing them. In recent years, I have hidden this part of myself. I did not want to acknowledge that part of my hear that I couldn't fill. Most of my girl friends doubt I feel this way. I have played the game of not caring so well, that they dont know that I was the little girl who wanted to meet Prince Charming, fall in love, have him pursue me, have him fight for me, get married, have two kids, Gwennivire Andromeda and Cecil James, live in a quiet, simple house in the mountains in Colorado, work in ministry and writing, and live happily ever after.

"Sweet is life when all is sane. Sweet is death to rid the pain. Sweet is love when all is well. Cruel is love when all is hell." -Anonymous

Mistake me not, desiring pure love, like I daydreamed of is not all bad. Its perfectly fine. But odds are, it will disappoint. Real life is not like my fairy tales. It will never be. It wasn't meant to be. I am not a princess, Price Charming is not waiting to sweep me off my feet. Thats reality. I will have to work, pay bills, cook, clean, buy groceries, do laundry and interact with people I dont want to. I will do it with a content heart. I will have a content heart only by the grace of my Daddy in Heaven who has written for me a better fairy tale then I could ever dream up. Thats the true story. I will never stop dreaming up love stories, I dont think I want to. But my love story is already written, and I am not the author, or the editor, or the publisher, I am a background character, who happens to have a perfect ending. No, not perfect in that it is the way I planned it, but in the way that the All Knowing God planned it.

I am not in a game. I am no Juliet, rather Rapunzel waiting protected for my Prince, who my Daddy has already picked out for me. He may have to yank on my hair a little, and its a battle, but its worth fighting.

The End.

Camping

If you find yourself trapped in the middle of the woods without electricity, running water, or a car you would likely describe that situation as a “nightmare” or “a worse case scenario like after plane crash or something.” many people refer to it as “camping.”

When people begin talking to you about camping they will do their best to tell you that it’s very easy and it allows them to escape the pressures and troubles of the urban lifestyle for a more natural, simplified, relaxing time and it's fun. Ha! Lies I tell you! Lies! Nothing could be further from the truth!

In theory camping should be a very inexpensive activity since you are literally sleeping on the ground. But as with everything in American culture, the more simple it appears the more expensive it actually is.

Camping is a multi-day, multi-step, potentially lethal activity that will cost you a large amount of both time and money. Unless you are in some sort of position where you absolutely need the friendship of a person who enjoys camping (petty thieves, hobos, business men who like to look like they have time and money to go enjoy the out doors, families with 5 or more children, boyscouts), you should avoid camping at all costs.

The first stage of camping always involves a trip to an outdoor equipment store like REI, Bass Pro Shop, or Outdoor World. These stores are well known for their abundance of such customers and their extensive inventory of things for white people to buy and only use once. If you are ever tricked into going to one of these stores, you can make those people who like camping (aka 'campers') like you by saying things like “man, this Kayak is only $1200, if I use it 35 times I’ve already saved money over renting.” Note: do not actually buy the kayak.

Next, campers will then take this new equipment and load it into an SUV or another multi-person vehicle with a Thule or Yakima Roof Rack. Then they will drive for an extended period of time to a national park or campsite where they will pay an entrance fee and begin their journey. It is worth noting that white people are unaware of the irony of using a gas burning car to bring them closer to nature and it is not recommended that you point this out. It will ruin their weekend.

Once in the camp area, campers will walk around for a while, set up a tent, have a horrible night of sleep, complain loudly, walk around some more. Then get in the car and go home. This, of course, is a best case scenario. Worst case scenarios include: getting lost, poisoned, killed by an animal, and encountering an RV. Of these outcomes, the latter is seen by true campers as the worst since it involves an encounter with the wrong kind of campers.

Conversely, any camping trip that ends in maiming death at the hands of nature or requires the use of valuable government resources for a rescue is seen as relatively positive in white culture. This is because both situations might eventually lead to a book deal or documentary film about the experience. (or atleast a very redundant, over told story that ought to be avoided at all costs)

Ultimately the best way to escape a camping trip with such people is to say that you have allergies. Since those who can afford to make time for camping and their children are allergic to almost everything, they will understand and ask no further questions.



:takes a bow:


(note á bene: My dear Boyscout Brothers (Ben, Willie, Chan-Chan, Josh, Timothy, to whomever else who found contempt at this) , I love camping. Really. I promise. This is merely the out-put of a rare funny moment...)

Location:Written from my iPod, in bed, in a heated house, with a bathroom just next door to my room with food cooking on the stove... You get the picture.

Camping

If you find yourself trapped in the middle of the woods without electricity, running water, or a car you would likely describe that situation as a “nightmare” or “a worse case scenario like after plane crash or something.” many people refer to it as “camping.”

When people begin talking to you about camping they will do their best to tell you that it’s very easy and it allows them to escape the pressures and troubles of the urban lifestyle for a more natural, simplified, relaxing time and it's fun. Ha! Lies I tell you! Lies! Nothing could be further from the truth!

In theory camping should be a very inexpensive activity since you are literally sleeping on the ground. But as with everything in American culture, the more simple it appears the more expensive it actually is. (less is more.. expensive)

Camping is a multi-day, multi-step, potentially lethal activity that will cost you a large amount of both time and money. Unless you are in some sort of position where you absolutely need the friendship of a person who enjoys camping (petty thieves, hobos, business men who like to look like they have time and money to go enjoy the out doors, families with 5 or more children, boyscouts), you should avoid camping at all costs.

The first stage of camping always involves a trip to an outdoor equipment store like REI, Bass Pro Shop, or Outdoor World. These stores are well known for their abundance of such customers and their extensive inventory of things for white people to buy and only use once. If you are ever tricked into going to one of these stores, you can make those people who like camping (aka 'campers') like you by saying things like “man, this Kayak is only $1200, if I use it 35 times I’ve already saved money over renting.” Note: do not actually buy the kayak.

Next, campers will then take this new equipment and load it into an SUV or another multi-person vehicle with a Thule or Yakima Roof Rack. Then they will drive for an extended period of time to a national park or campsite where they will pay an entrance fee and begin their journey. It is worth noting that white people are unaware of the irony of using a gas burning car to bring them closer to nature and it is not recommended that you point this out. It will ruin their weekend.

Once in the camp area, campers will walk around for a while, set up a tent, have a horrible night of sleep, complain loudly, walk around some more. Then get in the car and go home. This, of course, is a best case scenario. Worst case scenarios include: getting lost, poisoned, killed by an animal, and encountering an RV. Of these outcomes, the latter is seen by true campers as the worst since it involves an encounter with the wrong kind of campers.

Conversely, any camping trip that ends in maiming death at the hands of nature or requires the use of valuable government resources for a rescue is seen as relatively positive in this culture. This is because both situations might eventually lead to a book deal or documentary film about the experience. (or atleast a very redundant, over told story that ought to be avoided at all costs)

Ultimately the best way to escape a camping trip with such people is to say that you have allergies. Since those who can afford to make time for camping and their children are allergic to almost everything, they will understand and ask no further questions.



:takes a bow:


(note á bene: My dear Boyscout Brothers (Ben, Willie, Chan-Chan, Josh, Timothy, to whomever else who found contempt at this) , I love camping. Really. I promise. This is merely the out-put of a rare funny moment...)

Location:Written from my iPod, in bed, in a heated house, with a bathroom just next door to my room with food cooking on the stove... You get the picture.

Psychology of Music

Goodness, it has been a long time since I have last blogged.
[Me:"I've been too exhausted and busy to attend to you, surely you can handle that for a few days, or rather months!" My blog: "Excuses, excuses. I feel so very hurt that you neglect me as you do. I shall have to make you do something about that." Me: "Is that a threat?" My blog: "Yes, now get to work!" ::battle of wills takes place, girlish slap fights, name calling and nasty looks procede:: Me: "All right! Alright already!"] Dear world, I *cough* humbly apologise for my cruel abuse of my 'precious, abused, neglected, and orphaned' blog :: tones dripping with sarcasm, glares at the strong willed blog::

My blog has been.. rather abused as of late, but I have very little to talk about. So I'll go back to a familiar topic: Music and Poetry. [::sticks tongue at blog:: nana nana booboo! ::feels childish, and obviously doesn't care::]

I have been listening to a wide spread of music as of late. A variety of alternative punk, country, swing, classic Disney tunes and metal and emo core. No, that wouldn't be because my mood has been swinging like a pendulum, but rather there's nothing that could change it. And sheer curiousity. Ive been a bit blue lately... but that's not what this blog post is about. Its about the psychology of music

Lets start with music.

I find that depending on the key signature, and the literal notes of a song, it can sway ones emotions, as assisted by a pre-existing mood, to an extent.
I have experimented (read: rationalised) listening to drastically emotional songs to see how I subconsciously react. I worked this for about the past 4 or 5 months.

I spent a week listening exclusively to Owl City and Sailship and was entirely bubbly and cheerful without trying. I couldn't help it! Not only are the words happy, but the music is in a major chord with few to no accidentals. Its light-hearted. Its cheerful It is happy music.

Next I moved on to Alternative/soft rock such as Fleet Foxes, the Avett Brothers, The Goo Goo Dolls , Coldplay, Lady Antebellum and Jon Foreman. I felt, on most days rather passive, slightly morose and apathetic, but not entirely sad, and that was possibly caused by the memories tied to those particular songs. I looked at my own transpositions of a few of the songs and noted that they were mostly in minor keys, with few accidentals, not inherently sad music (read: notes in and of themselves) but with mellow tenancies. It was the lyrics I supposed that caused my subtle mellowness. Curiously, I felt slightly weak in strength after the first five days. That puzzles me.

I moved next wordless string quartets. Primarily The Section Quartet, The Sisters of the Road, Apocolyptica, Haggard, Escala, Mike Marshal and The Vitamin String Quartet. Why a quartet? No particular reason. I just like the sound of the quartet above that of a soloist. Hehe ^.^. Note that the two I listed first, and listened to most are electric, rather punkish (Ok, sorry, I didn't expect you to know that right off the bat...). I broke this week into three parts. Haggard, Escala, and the Vitamin String Quartet in the first third of the week, bringing about a creative, gentle, musical mood in me. The next two days were entirely the Sisters of the Road and Mike Marshal for their swingy, folk feel. I had to dance to them. Again, not happy music, but this music causes me to be happy for it resonates with my soul. It is my very favourite go-to music. (Much like EK and bagpipes, Ceeweera and the Beatles, or, um, or... ok. skip that. ) The third portion of the week was the Section Quartet and Apocolyptica. It was punkish as I already stated. It made me feel slightly angsty, moody, temperamental. I hate how much I loved it.

Ill go with three more examples of music I played with.

I had a metal/screamo week too. I listened to bands like Underoath, Plea for Purging, Bullet for my Valentine, Eyes Set to Kill, Alesana and whatever else Pandora gave me. I had nightmares. No joke. I like that kind of music when i am angry at myself, or when I am exercising. I have learned that I shall never, or ought to never listen to it on a mere whim. End of story.

Then I had an Irish Punk week that lasted much more than a week. Flogging Molly, The Dubliners, The Chieftains and Gaelic Storm were my constant flow. Yep! I found myself full of energy, restless, pumped and wanting to fight for something. The words and instruments were more the cause of this example. When I transposed them to violin I did not get the same effect. I shall be playing more!

Finally I went to bands such as Bright Eyes, Eisley, Augustana, Avett Brothers (again... I REALLY like them), Iron and Wine, Regina Spektor, Between the Trees, Taylor Swift, Lady Antebellum Secondhand Serenade. This was rather confusing to me. I loved the music, the words and everything, though I could not identify a consistent emotion even after inspecting the chord patterns. I do not identify a negative effect so I shall listen to these primarily =).

These are only a few of the 'sets/systems' that I sampled. But these were the most prominent reactions that I saw and recorded.

I can now say I have observed an unobvious trend in myself, made it more apparent and blogged about it. Mission Accomplished? I think so!

Be braced for musical nerdiness

Last night I went to Inception with my dear brother Tim Pierce and my mum. I enjoyed the movie very much and we discussed it quite extensively after. One thing we neglected to discuss, though we would not have had time to do so as completely, was the music. I might be the only one who noticed... I certainly was not awake enough at the time to clearly verbalise much of anything much anyhoo.

I, being a musician, was intrigued by the key the scores were in. For some time now I've been doing what you could call an independent study on the musical theory and style on music used particularly in movies, and the effectiveness of the music in movies (and in general) for manipulating emotions. I have found this quite fascinating. Inception however threw a curve ball at me. Most of the music was a major key (non musically theoretical translation- happy (read not scary or depressing) or exciting music) especially in the scenes with the most intense action. This surprised me. More frequently, the music in intense scenes is a minor key (nmtt- eerie, scary, sad or tense music) with few or no accidentals (nmtt- notes that don't fit the key). But in Inception, in the most mind bending, contemplative moments was C minor chuck full of accidentals, which perplexed me because it would have made more sense to write it in E major.

Throughout the movie, there was a wonderful sense of symbolism. Musically, I wondered if the accidentals, breaking of rules of musical key signature, had anything to do with the characters breaking the rules of reality. You'd have to see the movie to understand.

I'd love to dialogue with any of you about this :) or any of the movie for that matter.

Oh dear =/

:: blow, sweep sweep, dust:: My my! There really is a blog here under all this dust. Poor neglected thing. I'm sowwy dear; I will forget you no more. Oh! You look half starved. I know this is no valid excuse but I have been to busy doing school, music and protecting myself from small bits of metal (hehe... Ask me later) to feed you those wonderful little thoughts you enjoy.

I know it ben a while since I've last posted. Nothing blogworthy of note. No amazing ' I've never thought o it that way' moments, no 'haha wow that was stupid' moments to be shared (or at least none that I'm allowed to post (Love you Carmen <3)).

Well, I am going off to Training Minds Ministries debate 'camp' in Colorado Springs in a bit here. Gonna see my cousins and grandparents while I'm out there :). I'm really excited. Yep, I'm one of those nerdy (not geeky. Difference) people. But I think you, my faithful readers know that. I sure hope you know that =P.

This summer has been rather a bit of a disappointment really. So I look foreword to having tremendous amounts of fun out thattaway. I'll be missing the first day of school and the first day of orchestra. Oh well. Nothing in life is free (unless you're my mum. Are you my mummy? ;])

I'm really not looking foreword to the number of people going off to college from Axis who I have been just getting to know. And all the graduating seniors from NCFCA :(. ::sigh::

I do think that's all for now.
I'll post more as soon as I have something to say.

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPod

Another one of my Deep Thoughts... and my FAVOURITE MOVIE. IN ONE POST!

"My name is Doug. I have just met you, and I love you." "...and I love that man there like he is my master. " " I hide under your porch because I love you." "You are my friend and I love you."

Doug the Dog is a perfect example of how God wants us to love others. He loves. And loves. And loves some more on top of that. Doug loves this grouchy old man, for no apparent reason. He continues to love him no matter what Carl says or does to him. Carl despises Doug and ignores him, nigh on abuses him. Doug continues to show love to the loveless old man. I wish I could love like Doug. To love no matter what others do to me. To love without fail. To love like a dog. I wanna love like a dog. There I said it. I WANT TO LOVE LIKE A DOG!

I find it easy to love people. It is the way I am. I enjoy loving people. But when it comes to loving no matter what someone says or does to me, I find my limits. I find it harder to love when I feel hurt by someone. Should I just choose to stop feeling hurt? Ignore what other people say that hurts me? Maybe. Should I continue loving them even when I want to hate them? Certainly. Another time when I find it hard to love is when I don't feel loved myself (which, to keep things clear, is very infrequent). But when I make myself love people particularly when it is hard, I find that it is the time I feel most... humm how do I say this without sounding selfish? loved back. Love is like a liquid. a magical liquid where the more you pour out of your cup the more you get put back into it (with interest =] ). If that makes sense.

(This is not gonna be one of those posts where I give you a thousand things to think about at once. I promise)

How about loving someone when they reject you? Now that's fun. No, really, its really hard. But it pays off in the long run. I can't really share an example but trust me. It does.

I have to go but I will leave you with this thought. LOVE LIKE A DOG!

I'M ALIVE

I know you all are insatiably curious. It's my birthday. I'm on my way back from Awanita. I'm facing a 18 hour bus trip. Wedged between Cakestraw McCraw Master of the Cotton-Eyed Robot (Cougs/Josh/my colourblind little brother and pillow) and Teddy Bear, in front of Mr. Cupcake, behind Jaws and across from Spanky, we all sit watching Peter Pan. Again. It's the official Pipeline movie and gives way to the official chant (as aforementioned in previous post). My pink teddy bear Chai has become an object of much lust somehow. Everybody wants to cuddle with him.

There are pixie sticks.

On a different note, you would be amazed how much junk about 20 girls can bring to camp. It is truely frightening. Also frightening is the number of unaccounted-for cuts, bruises and minor abrasions I can find on me. I am surprised however that I am not worse off. We were deep in the mountains of North and South Carolina. Lots of steep inclines and slipery rocks Put it together. Oh and there's an ice cold lake at the bottom of the hill that my 'cabin' was on. Just think on that. We had to walk just about a mile up and down hills and around the mountian to the mess hall. I think we all lost weight. And gained scars. Oh, and there were two trips to he hospital. Yes. Two.

I'm very bored. I've slept on Josh, Bailee and Maison, I've read in my Bible, in Sophie's World, Jeeves in the Offing, and the Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxcy. My head is on Maison's pillow on her lap, I am laying across my seat, slung across the aisle and my feet are on Josh's lap. I feel nausiated.

It's amazing how much one particularly short boy with hysterical bed head can rattle off semi useless and astoundingly random information.

It's been an emotional, teary week and I am drained. I may post more later.







Posted using BlogPress from my iPodq

Location:Bus

The revenge of Cougs, Care Bear and Sparky the Owl

Ok. This post is written from a bus, a bus full of hyper middleschoolers on the way to camp. It's way loud. Were singing VBS songs. It's also 7 am. We've all been up since 5 or earlier. Earlier in my case. We all have settled on our nicknames, some new made up for some antic this morning, some older with intricate backstories. We have Skittkes, Cougs and Care Bear and Sparky the Owl(me). Shorty has an ipad 0_o. I was dubbed Cougs' honourary 'mommy' by his sister to keep him in line and to make sure he doesn't get too high on pixie sticks and Five Hour Energy. Or at least make him share :). Spike went with a brigh green, sparkly Mohawk. We rock. Go for awesome coloured hair! Alex (yes. It's a nickname with a very intricate backstory) is brave and sitting between Cougs and Care Bear. I admire her strength. Sawyer is being a human 'Bopit'. Lots noise here. Polkadot is texting Tutu and they're sitting together. SJ and Highliter aren't here and that's depressing. Cici is somewhere. I really don't know where. Everybody is chanting "I do! I do! I DO believe in fairies!" every hour in the hour. Pipeline tradition and official chant. I think that's all for now.


- Posted using BlogPress from my iPod

A splash of summer. ( ok that was corny)

Hello my dear followers! As several of you know, this summer has brought about a few changes for me this year. But I'm not gonna blog about that. So to commemorate those changes , I will do all of my summer posts in yellow. Now that that very important matter is been (yes, I said it that way, I meant it that way, and if you disagree, I will glare at you) dealt with, on to less important business.

In honour of my brother JACOB DEAN!™, I will be blogging about water today.

Water is a distinctly integral part of summer! Think about it! From hoses, sprinklers and pools to water balloon fights to the beach and ice in your lemonade. Water is everywhere in summer. and ya know what? I love water.

Water. It's the most needed thing on the planet. It keeps you alive, it can kill you. Water can be a gas, liquid and a solid, but all of us who passed preschool know that. EVERYBODY has experienced water. How amazing is that? (How many things can you really say that everybody in the world has in common? Several I'm sure, but don't spoil my fun, you critic, you.). Many of the most popular sports require water: Skiing, swimming, snowboarding, ice skating (and yes, I will be going ice skating this summer =]) and dancing in the rain. THEY ALL REQUIRE WATER!

But that gets me thinking. Rain. Its also an integral part so summer and the cool thing is, it's water.[insert several paragraphs on how rain is formed and how it benefits the entire world] I think I like rain better than anything else (yes, even hugs, but its an indefinite thing). It's awesome. I love the sound ( www.rainymood.com [also compliments of JACOB DEAN!™]), I love the feel, I love the thunder and the lightning, as long as it is not preventing me from being out in the midst of it. * is thirsty, leaves the computer and gets a very big glass of water. *

I will leave you with this quote:"Would it be possible to kill someone by spraying oxygen and hydrogen at his face at the same time, thus creating a water vapor around his head?" -- Guess who.

Thanks JACOB DEAN!™

Thinking out loud here. Well, on paper (it's not even paper really!) I guess. Here, let's call it the thought of the day. That works well!

Scientifically speaking, which colours really exist? I mean all colours we see, we see in the negative, and other colours we don't even see at all. Is green orange? Is black white? It does not make sense!

Then, on top of that, our human eyes can't see all the colours that other animals can see! Every living creature has colour receptors in it's eyes. People have three (red, yellow and blue) but other animals have more! There is a kind if crab that has five colour receptors! That means there are at the very least TWO more primary colours that people can't see! I don't even know how to imagine or what to call those extra colours! More over, why can't we see them (beside the obvious lack of colour recptors)???

(I just noticed that I type faster on my iPod than on a real keyboard...)

And then is the more confusing matter of the images we see. Which side is up? In grade school we were all taught that when our eyes first see something, before our brains register the image, our eyes see the thing we are looking at upsidedown! Now why by all the letters of the alphabet does that happen? I don't know. It seems that what our brains register our eyes to be 'seeing' is quite the opposite to what is really there!

What a creative God we have!

Normality and Invisibility

Before I start, I'd like to share a little bit about post. I wrote it about a month ago and never published it knowing the curtains that are torn away with it. I am not sure I really want those curtains torn away because I am hiding in them and I'm not sure who will find me, but I know that they need to fall and I need to be found. It's something that I feel very strongly about and, well, ... So, know that this is a really heart felt post and I'd really like your opinions after you read it.This post was really hard for me to write but I know that its a thing other people need to hear. It's a long one, but bear with me.

Ever noticed how everybody (at least in middle- and high-school) strives so diligently to be considered normal, to be just like 'them' (whoever them is)? Have you seen people do stupid stuff merely because everybody else is doing it therefore it must be entirely rational and reasonable? People do it to be like everyone else, to be accepted. Yet to be just like everybody else, you need to stand out, need to be just different enough to be cool, not absurd. Fashion, sports and hobbies are just a few of the things on the list of requirements that add, or subtract from the cool factor. But there's another catch: academics. It's cool to be just barely smart enough to pass tests (or at least get a C- average) while not getting perfect grades. In fewer words mediocrity is what teens these days aim for! What an awesome goal! If you have straight A's, speak your mind, stand out, wear off brands and have barely heard of any big names in music and are even more clueless about what's up on TV... well you're either one of three things: a) a complete outcast in the world of 'in the know' and cool, b) a homeschooler , c) or me (which would be all of the above =])

Well, back to the topic at hand: Why, oh why, do we strive to be normal? What is the attraction? To fit in? To be accepted? But why do these things require normality? Can't we appreciate the differences among us instead of scorn them? Didn't God, creator of us all, intend us to be different? Why on earth would we judge someone for being exactly what they are intended to be? I got it into my head that everybody's opinion matters.

I am not a naturally outgoing kind of person. I need to be in my element before I feel comfortable in my environment. Most of you don't really get to see me any other way, so just trust me on this one. I don't like change that is out of my control. I don't like to stand out, rather just be rather overlooked by a great part of the rest of the world. I want to be myself without the people around me noticing me unless I choose for them to care. I'm generally content with a handful of close friends who I know and trust deeply (something that is really hard for me) but to be ignored and overlooked by the rest of the world. I'd rather serve than be served. I like for people to get to know me, but not all of me unless I know them. Really, really well (which goes to make some of my newer relationships all the more special and confusing). It's not that I don't like people. I love people. I would rather know people than for them to know me. I guess you could say I like to be invisible.

At a science class I used to take, I was teased, and teased, and taunted and jeered at. Middle school girls can be pretty brutal. I have never been in the cool or popular group, and I have never been tried to be. When I took a class that none of my friends were taking, I was teased for not having friends in the class and for several other seemingly silly, small, petty things like always getting good grades and an ability to answer questions succinctly (yes, I'm an academic. It's what I do). At first I would just ignore their snide remarks, but they kept on pressing their opinions on me. Their words started taking root and I began to take their words to heart. I began to dread the class every week and did my best to get out of it. My friends and family told me that they were just jealous. Sure. Who would be jealous of a geeky looking, glasses wearing, know-it-all (yeah, I recognize I do come across that way sometimes)? I kept coming back to their cruel remarks and swallowed them one and all. I just wanted to curl up in a ball and hide from everything. Invisibility (ninjas must really have it good). And this was a CHRISTIAN class. This was almost a year and a half ago. I didn't handle any of this really well and just recently have I begun to deal with it.

I don't know what has changed within me, all I care is that it has. I know I'm not the only one one who struggles with trying to fit in but I also know that it can feel that way. Being normal is impossible. It's just a mask that can slip of and shatter at any moment. Striving to be normal is just gonna end up hurting you so why try? I think being loved by those who you love is a better goal. The opinions of those who you don't like don't matter. Let their opinions be their opinions and stay that way. Normal is a lie that masquerades as truth, as something good, something wonderful... "So encourage one another daily, as long as it is still called today, so that none of you may be tricked by sin's deceitfulness" Hebrews 13:13.

In the Dark

Today in orchestra we played in the dark. Literally, all the lights went out. We were in the back Studio B in the Shakespeare Center, the one with the walls painted black, no windows, warm, with a door that, when it closes, lets in no, absolutely no light. We played in the dark for about 20 minutes. It was so much fun (for me at least, I like the dark better than the light) and we all played really well considering. I am one of the few who has her music memorised (yes, that does imply that none of the boys have memorised music) Asia (my [atheist] stand-partner) and I played nearly perfectly. Miss T was very profusely complimentary and had us play up front, without a stand (an awkward situation because, short as I am, she is shorter... by a lot). We had a ridiculous amount of fun. The Cellists must not have for Kendrick, first cellist and super-duper sarcastic (to an annoying, peevish level) and astoundingly tall asian kid (younger than me, surprise surprise), was absent. He essentially carries the entire cello section, sad really. I'm gonna stop rambling now...

Love you guys!

Into Non-existance

Today has been a day full of Hannah moments:

8:00(ish) a.m.- Fell out of bed

10:15 a.m.- Went to Johnsons, missing breakfast entirely... =(

10:45(ish) a.m. - Was pushed, quite by accident, off a table while holding an electric razor when giving Arwin (shaggy Irish Setter) a trim

Lunch- Luke: "The all new Taco Bell Slim Taco *SHING*" (yhtbt) [not a Hannah moment, but had to go up]

3:30-6:45(ish) p.m.- - Painted shutters. Black paint all over me, especially my face.

7:45 p.m. - Realised that I left my sunglasses and jacket, and shoes at the Johnsons. Also realised that I'm helplessly stranded at orchestra tomorrow unless I can get somebody to pick me up from downtown...

10:15 p.m. 1- Chat with Landon, learned the sarcmark has no Mac platform.

Wonderful day... =)!!! And about the title, philosophy-at-Regs inside joke.

YAY!!!!

For you astute people (definition: creepy people who look at the 'time posted thingee), yes I am writing this at 5:30 in the morning.... I'm off to Jacksonville( to go watch Regionals,*YAY* as I said before), and about to explode (can't find a better metaphor) with excitement! Were driving up to be there at 8-ish (later: FAIL) and gonna stay all day and I get to read my favourite book of all time on the way... MY HISTORY TEXT BOOK =P. (Just a wee bit of sarcasm there.) NO, I don't hate history, actually I adore it, but I do dislike (not really a strong enough word but, I'll let it slide) my history text book. It's just too brief, and far too easy to understand. Oh well, with any luck, I'll be to busy hanging out with my spectacularly awesome and truly amazing, ambi-talented (yeah, I just made up a word. I happens before coffee) friends!!!!!! Yay! I'll keep you all, my dear readers, posted about, well, postings. YAY!
*******************************15 hours later***********************************
I'm home!!!!! I had spectacular time!! I'm so proud of my NCFCA family too! Epic Congrats to Landon , Ciera and Price who all are going to Nats,(along with many others, but this is who I remember at 11:30 at night after a cartrip)!!! I'm so excited for yous! And just for the record, MY BROTHERS ROCK! (so does Flogging Molly, but that's different)! Thanks Landon and Tim so much for being such awesome brothers to me and keeping an eye out for me! I'd still be lost up in Jax without you two (and zonked, without awesome music , less hyper, cold and with a dead iPod). I am so astoundingly lucky to have such a stupendous speech family.I LOVE YOU ALL!

Frankie, Shadow and my Honourary Brothers!

Well! Today is Thursday! That means I have the horrible duty to go over my audition with Mrs. Jones. Not a happy thought... rather daunting really. Well, I get to face my doom (in the classical sense of the word) in just a few hours. I played with Frankie for a while, but couldn't concentrate... this should be interesting. ( and for those of you curious, Frankie is my violin)

It's also day five of the days my cat, Shadow being missing. This happens every so often but I can't help but be worried. She's itty-bitty and bone skinny and not wearing a collar ( at least we can rule out being caught on a branch or something). I hope she comes home soon. Please pray!

And now for something completely different: TOMORROW IS FRIDAY! Not only is it a day off for me but I get to go up to Jacksonville to see my Speechey and Db8ey friends (at Regionals for the finals!), and my honourary brothers Price Baker, Jacob Dean, Landon Frame and Timothy Pierce! I can't forget Eva, Kitty, Ciera and Emily either. I'd take time to name everybody I am so ecstatic to see, but I'd run out of room! Yay! A whole day with the people I love most! I'm so excited!!! I can't wait to see you all!

Service

This is my first post (take two). Yay! I'm so excited!

Yesterday I got up early, did my chores and I did a few of Nico's chores too because she got to bed pretty late. I hoped on my bike and rode for an hour, and came home at 8:15, did my school (finished early) and went to Pipeline (youth group). Even while during worship time, I couldn't help but feel rather hurt that Nico never said anything about my doing her chores. ( Pause! I always like how God 'sets me up' but just watch, it gets good). Yester-night's topic was servitude, Christ-like servitude. We read and discussed John 13 (about Jesus washing the disciples' feet). We talked about how, so often we serve for the warm fuzzy feelings we get, and for the thank yous. It hit me really hard as I realised that was most of the reason I did the chores that morning. More over, I realised that when I wait for other people to to serve me in return, I'm trying to act god (thanks Lindsey!). I'm thinking of myself as worthy, as above them so that they should serve me in payment. How much more wrong could I be?

I'm gonna try to serve people this week. Lots of people. Not only that, but I'm gonna serve without expecting so much as any notice, a thank you or anything in return, not for me, but for God. Who's with me?