This has been such a good few days...
I went to the movies to see She's out of my league (which was pretty bad) with Sam and found a 20 on the floor in the bathroom stall. That sort of stuff never happens to me!
I slept in until 11, made coffee, practiced a little, went to the DAV and got 6 skirts, 2 dresses and 2 purses for $5, then came home and found out I made all state.
I am so excited! I am one of the 14 best flute players in the state! and i'm the only person besides Tiffany from PHS that made it... I am so happy. I went to phoenix for a few days with my mom and we just hung out by a pool (I even got a little tan, it was awesome) and relaxed. Now i'm back home and gonna be starting my new job today. yay!
Monday, March 15, 2010
Sunday, March 14, 2010
I'm more nostalgic than the average person
especially lately, I can't get certain things off my mind, certain people, certain events... i'm too nostalgic for my own good. all it does is make me wish things were the way they used to be. I like being able to remember things, but it wears me out sometimes. and at the same time, I wish I could remember them more clearly. I kept a journal through most of last year pretty consistently, and then I destroyed it, something I regret so much... I cringe every time I think about it. I so wish I hadn't. So much of last year was worth writing about for me.
And I was looking forward to being able to look back and laugh at it (still don't quite think i'm at that point yet, but that's not the point, I would have been, eventually...). It's always a bad idea to destroy something you've written. No matter how stupid or dangerous you think it might be. It's like, now, I only remember snippets of things... only certain feelings, events, good memories. I think it's been triggered by the time of year. I just remember what I was doing at this time last year, and how different things were. Just flashes of things, like picking thousands of post-it notes off my car on a windy day, going to lunch alone, parking in the exact same spot every day, picking out my prom dress...
I just feel like if I don't constantly re-remember my memories, they'll go away and i'll lose them forever. It's irrational but it's a big fear for me.
And i'm still having fitful dreams, the kind where nothing in particular sticks out, but I feel less rested when I wake up... I feel like i've been thinking and stressing out all night long instead of resting. I hope they go away.
Meanwhile, I'm kind of excited for prom again this year, even though my date totally isn't... which puts a damper on it for me, but oh well. I know that prom is a kind of stupid, immature high school thing, but it's just something you have to do, and I had enough fun last year to do it again. This year I think i'll go for a sort of 40's hollywood vibe, with a really classic, simple dress kind of like this (black or red, most likely) and a wavy, 40's glamorous hairstyle. Pearls. Dramatic cat-eye makeup. I'm excited.
And I was looking forward to being able to look back and laugh at it (still don't quite think i'm at that point yet, but that's not the point, I would have been, eventually...). It's always a bad idea to destroy something you've written. No matter how stupid or dangerous you think it might be. It's like, now, I only remember snippets of things... only certain feelings, events, good memories. I think it's been triggered by the time of year. I just remember what I was doing at this time last year, and how different things were. Just flashes of things, like picking thousands of post-it notes off my car on a windy day, going to lunch alone, parking in the exact same spot every day, picking out my prom dress...
I just feel like if I don't constantly re-remember my memories, they'll go away and i'll lose them forever. It's irrational but it's a big fear for me.
And i'm still having fitful dreams, the kind where nothing in particular sticks out, but I feel less rested when I wake up... I feel like i've been thinking and stressing out all night long instead of resting. I hope they go away.
Meanwhile, I'm kind of excited for prom again this year, even though my date totally isn't... which puts a damper on it for me, but oh well. I know that prom is a kind of stupid, immature high school thing, but it's just something you have to do, and I had enough fun last year to do it again. This year I think i'll go for a sort of 40's hollywood vibe, with a really classic, simple dress kind of like this (black or red, most likely) and a wavy, 40's glamorous hairstyle. Pearls. Dramatic cat-eye makeup. I'm excited.
Friday, March 12, 2010
I actually CAN be responsible and productive
It's spring break! I'm just saying that to try to make myself more excited, because I really feel no excitement.
I feel a little proud of myself at everything i've done lately. I always seem to really kick it into gear in the last few days before a report card comes out. Hahah. I've brought my grades up, one from a 64 to an 80 in a day, and so now i'm getting two B's and two A's which is one A better than last quarter. go figure. I am so proud of my abilities to bring grades up at the last possible minute.
I think what's helped a lot is that i've started actually using my planner and making lists of everything I need to do. I've set up all my PFAA stuff, made a lot of business phone calls to stragers (which doesn't sound like a big deal, but strangely it's a thing I absolutely loathe doing) i've set up all my college stuff (my audition in is ten days... i'm freaking out), i've pretty much done everything I can do. I feel good about myself when i'm productive like that. Oh, and I have a job! big plus. I will FINALLY be making some money that I can actually like... spend on things. It's so weird to think that i'll have a regular paycheck. it will be so nice to have money to my name.
So other than the fact that allstate auditions are tomorrow and I have my college audition coming up ridiculously fast, i'm in a good mood. I feel like i won't even be able to enjoy break much though, because i'll be so stressed out. I'll be practicing like, three hours a day. Hahah.
I wish I had some cool picture to put along with this blog but I don't. I think I need to start taking more pictures.
I feel a little proud of myself at everything i've done lately. I always seem to really kick it into gear in the last few days before a report card comes out. Hahah. I've brought my grades up, one from a 64 to an 80 in a day, and so now i'm getting two B's and two A's which is one A better than last quarter. go figure. I am so proud of my abilities to bring grades up at the last possible minute.
I think what's helped a lot is that i've started actually using my planner and making lists of everything I need to do. I've set up all my PFAA stuff, made a lot of business phone calls to stragers (which doesn't sound like a big deal, but strangely it's a thing I absolutely loathe doing) i've set up all my college stuff (my audition in is ten days... i'm freaking out), i've pretty much done everything I can do. I feel good about myself when i'm productive like that. Oh, and I have a job! big plus. I will FINALLY be making some money that I can actually like... spend on things. It's so weird to think that i'll have a regular paycheck. it will be so nice to have money to my name.
So other than the fact that allstate auditions are tomorrow and I have my college audition coming up ridiculously fast, i'm in a good mood. I feel like i won't even be able to enjoy break much though, because i'll be so stressed out. I'll be practicing like, three hours a day. Hahah.
I wish I had some cool picture to put along with this blog but I don't. I think I need to start taking more pictures.
Wednesday, March 10, 2010
I have a soft spot for jazz
I guess i've always loved jazz, because my grandma gave my mom a bunch of big band CDs that she used to play in our house all the time when I was little. And I love it even more since i'm dating an awesome jazz musician and I hear it from him all the time.
This week's been pretty good; everyone's so sick of the snow but i'm just kind of like, whatever. It would be nice if it was warm, but i'm fine with the snow. I like the snow, even if we don't get delays. I think snow is beautiful.
I'm just drinking some awful watered down coffee I made for myself, trying to think of something interesting to write about. I've been feeling decreasingly confident in my writing abilities lately. i've been trying to write some poetry (I've written at least ten pretty good length poems by now), since I have to have 1000 lines by may for english, and i've just felt like writing. It's a good release. They're pretty awful poems though. I don't feel like I can write good ones, but at the same time it seems like it should be so easy. I guess i've just been feeling less confident in everything lately. Especially my music stuff. I have finally kind of come to the realization that i'm not as good as I thought I was, I don't always have perfect intonation, and stuff like that. I'm getting more and more nervous about my audition for college. Everyone tells me i'll be fine but I still have that doubt.
It's weird, not having anything I need to do right now. I've had a lot of free time lately, so i've kind of taken to modifying some clothing that didn't fit me quite right by creating pleats with hot glue, adding buttons, etc. Hahah. it sounds like it would look awful, but i've actually been really proud of the stuff i've done. I got a red skirt at the DAV for 50 cents and it was a little bit too big, so I made some pleats in the back and glued on some buttons and now it's adorable. I still wish I knew how to sew though. I keep trying to get my mom to teach me.
Maybe i'll do that over the summer. Along with taking piano classes to be more prepared for college, and hopefully working. I think it'll be a busy summer. I can't wait. It is so weird to think that i'll be graduating from high school though... it's surreal. It doesn't feel like i'm this old at all, like i'm so not ready to go out into the adult world. Oh well, I guess i'll learn fast.
Monday, March 1, 2010
ugh...

I would just like to say that modcloth.com makes me drool.
I would buy a dress for every day of the year from that website if I was rich, I swear.
Saturday, February 27, 2010
My brain won't shut off tonight
I'm so uneasy with myself right now. I don't know what to do with myself. It's raining outside, and i'm alone with my own thoughts, nothing to distract me, nothing that even could when this has been nesting in my brain for weeks like a poisonous little worm. I don't know why I can't stop thinking about it.
I broke off a relationship with a person a few months ago. Mostly for the benefit of someone else I care about, not myself. If left up to me, I would continue most of my harmful relationships until damage is done. I only end relationships when an outside factor forces me to. I am that way, and I don't know why. Apathy will be the end of me.
It was a good decision and I don't regret it. I don't like this person romantically, and I don't even like them as a person. Not anymore. I dream about this person. I don't even like them, and I had a dream about them. I dreamed that I saw them somewhere unexpectedly. We hadn't seen each other in months, and we didn't end on a good note. Being the way I am, I don't hold grudges about being wronged or take it very seriously when I wrong someone for long at all. This has been a good and a bad thing. So I waved at them. They glared at me and didn't wave back. I proceeded to continue to wave at them while they glared for a solid minute before deciding it was futile. You do irrational things in dreams like that. I was upset and angered by their stubbornness and resentment towards me.
Just another example of my symbolic dreams. I'm worried about this person's opinion of me, i'm worried because we ended badly and I can't fix it. I am frustrated because I don't even like them, and I don't know why I should care if we're not on good terms... I shouldn't care. But I always care. Sometimes I hate it. Nobody understands this about me, this obsessive need to be on good terms with everyone.
No, that's not it. I don't need to be on good terms with everyone. But I can't decide on a qualifying factor. There are certain people who I absolutely don't give a damn if they like me or not. Very few people, but there are some. These are just people who i've had a bad history with, people who dislike me as much as i dislike them. I don't care what they think, and that's that.
But there's people who I don't like, don't respect, or don't even know, and still crave acceptance from. This is what I don't understand... maybe it's because at some point in my life I did like or respect them. I don't know if this is a flaw in my personality, if it's just a pride issue within myself. Do I need these people to like me to feel better about myself?
But, this one person... I really cannot stop thinking about this issue. I facebook stalk them, for christsakes. Why, I have no idea. I don't know what i'm expecting to find. I can't talk to them, I promised I wouldn't. I won't break that promise. and really, I don't even know what I would say to them. What I COULD say to them without sounding like a complete idiot. After months of no communication, trying to tell them that even though I don't particularly like or respect them, and I don't want to have any sort of relationship with them, I need to know that they don't resent me. And what if they DO resent me? Then what am I going to do? Try pathetically to explain why they shouldn't?
Even worse, what if they don't care at all? What if they have absolutely no feelings towards the subject, and they think i'm being ridiculous and dramatic for even bringing it up again? What if they've completely moved on from it? Maybe that's what i'm the most afraid of. That i'm sitting here dwelling on them, thinking about them, this person that was once so important to me, and they're having a great time in their life, not giving the subject a second thought.
Why do I obsess over people like this in my life? the relatively unimportant people that I don't communicate with, that I don't ever see, that I don't even know anymore? Why can't I just let it go?
Writing this has at least helped me organize my ideas and come to a tiny bit of a conclusion. I'm still unsatisfied. This is eating away at me. I could have written it in a journal and not had to hide any specifics, but when I handwrite things it's not nearly as effective, because I type ten times faster than I handwrite. And it's just... not as satisfying as knowing my thoughts are being made public, for some reason.
I haven't told anybody my feelings on this subject, this in depth. I don't know why I am now voluntarily allowing anybody who wants to read this.
I hope nobody will make me regret it.
I broke off a relationship with a person a few months ago. Mostly for the benefit of someone else I care about, not myself. If left up to me, I would continue most of my harmful relationships until damage is done. I only end relationships when an outside factor forces me to. I am that way, and I don't know why. Apathy will be the end of me.
It was a good decision and I don't regret it. I don't like this person romantically, and I don't even like them as a person. Not anymore. I dream about this person. I don't even like them, and I had a dream about them. I dreamed that I saw them somewhere unexpectedly. We hadn't seen each other in months, and we didn't end on a good note. Being the way I am, I don't hold grudges about being wronged or take it very seriously when I wrong someone for long at all. This has been a good and a bad thing. So I waved at them. They glared at me and didn't wave back. I proceeded to continue to wave at them while they glared for a solid minute before deciding it was futile. You do irrational things in dreams like that. I was upset and angered by their stubbornness and resentment towards me.
Just another example of my symbolic dreams. I'm worried about this person's opinion of me, i'm worried because we ended badly and I can't fix it. I am frustrated because I don't even like them, and I don't know why I should care if we're not on good terms... I shouldn't care. But I always care. Sometimes I hate it. Nobody understands this about me, this obsessive need to be on good terms with everyone.
No, that's not it. I don't need to be on good terms with everyone. But I can't decide on a qualifying factor. There are certain people who I absolutely don't give a damn if they like me or not. Very few people, but there are some. These are just people who i've had a bad history with, people who dislike me as much as i dislike them. I don't care what they think, and that's that.
But there's people who I don't like, don't respect, or don't even know, and still crave acceptance from. This is what I don't understand... maybe it's because at some point in my life I did like or respect them. I don't know if this is a flaw in my personality, if it's just a pride issue within myself. Do I need these people to like me to feel better about myself?
But, this one person... I really cannot stop thinking about this issue. I facebook stalk them, for christsakes. Why, I have no idea. I don't know what i'm expecting to find. I can't talk to them, I promised I wouldn't. I won't break that promise. and really, I don't even know what I would say to them. What I COULD say to them without sounding like a complete idiot. After months of no communication, trying to tell them that even though I don't particularly like or respect them, and I don't want to have any sort of relationship with them, I need to know that they don't resent me. And what if they DO resent me? Then what am I going to do? Try pathetically to explain why they shouldn't?
Even worse, what if they don't care at all? What if they have absolutely no feelings towards the subject, and they think i'm being ridiculous and dramatic for even bringing it up again? What if they've completely moved on from it? Maybe that's what i'm the most afraid of. That i'm sitting here dwelling on them, thinking about them, this person that was once so important to me, and they're having a great time in their life, not giving the subject a second thought.
Why do I obsess over people like this in my life? the relatively unimportant people that I don't communicate with, that I don't ever see, that I don't even know anymore? Why can't I just let it go?
Writing this has at least helped me organize my ideas and come to a tiny bit of a conclusion. I'm still unsatisfied. This is eating away at me. I could have written it in a journal and not had to hide any specifics, but when I handwrite things it's not nearly as effective, because I type ten times faster than I handwrite. And it's just... not as satisfying as knowing my thoughts are being made public, for some reason.
I haven't told anybody my feelings on this subject, this in depth. I don't know why I am now voluntarily allowing anybody who wants to read this.
I hope nobody will make me regret it.
Jenna's thoughts on writing
my sister wrote this, and I think it's awesome. It's just how I feel about writing. I wish I could write like her.
SO
This is how it goes:
I gather and hoard ideas like a little gerbil for weeks. I scribble down what I think are quirky and funny and sometimes even brilliant little tidbits that come to me while walking down the street, or driving, or sitting on my front porch (basically the most inconvenient times to have a pen and paper on hand).
And on these scraps of paper (half of which I lose somewhere along the way, and then find again in my couch, in my dirty laundy, under my gas pedal, etc.) I feel I have the deep, messy innards of a piece of fiction. I just need to perform some kind of small surgery, stitch some words together--just a few strings of words, I tell myself--to make this into a beautiful, wonderful piece of writing.
It will convey my most deep, profound views on life, love, loss, etc. etc. etc. This will be the story I was meant to write; this story will change me; this story will change others. (Oh Jenna, you poor, poor thing).
Then. It is time.
I sit down at my desk and boot up my computer. At first I am excited and overjoyed to be embarking on what I know will be the best thing I have ever written. I am just bubbling over with excitement.
And then.......not much later I am staring at my computer in loathing. Oh you evil machine. How I hate you and the vast whiteness of your word processor.
An hour, maybe two later I get about 3 paragraphs down. And I realize all of my brilliant ideas and witty dialogue and heart-wrenching scenes could be the script of a Lifetime Original movie. It seems I have performed the surgery with a giant, electric carving knife. The kind my dad uses to butcher the Thanksgiving turkey every year.
I erase, try again. Erase, try again.
I make some coffee. I play with my cat. I go in my closet and try to put together new outfits out of old clothing. Then I want to go shopping. I'm broke, so I reluctantly go back to the computer.
THEN--I have a burst of inspiration.
I write it down.
Terrible, I tell myself. God-awful.
Erase.
I do this about a billion times before I finally will myself (practically have to blindfold myself) to write pages and pages of words without going back and reading and analyzing the hell out them.
It's like an abusive relationship. I hate it, I want out....and yet....I keep going back for more every time....
Eventually I end up with a first draft of something. It's not life-altering. It's usually pretty terrible. But it's something. And I can deal with something.
As much as I complain about my advanced reporting class and news writing in general, there is something to be said about taking a bunch of facts, following the recipe down to the teaspon, sprinkling in some interview quotes and throwing it onto a paper plate, popping it into the microwave and serving with plastic utensils. And all in a cold, calculated way. Sometimes it's a relief.
Fiction writing is like spending hours and hours (AND HOURS) in the kitchen mixing this and that and sticking a finger in for a taste, deciding it needs a little more of this, a little more of that, and then placing it in the oven for a few hours to marinate. You take it out, decide next time to add a little more of this, a little less of that. Then the next day you try it again, and it's a little bit tastier. And so it goes, until you've got the dish you've been wanting to make for quite some time.
(P.S. I'm still in the don't-go-back-and-read-a-damn-word-you've-written-or-else-you'll-want-to-pluck-your-eyelashes-out-one-by-one stage of the story I am currently working on).
P.P.S. It is nearly 2 AM and I am in the ILC and I am a little bit delirious. Good job if you made it all the way through this one.
SO
This is how it goes:
I gather and hoard ideas like a little gerbil for weeks. I scribble down what I think are quirky and funny and sometimes even brilliant little tidbits that come to me while walking down the street, or driving, or sitting on my front porch (basically the most inconvenient times to have a pen and paper on hand).
And on these scraps of paper (half of which I lose somewhere along the way, and then find again in my couch, in my dirty laundy, under my gas pedal, etc.) I feel I have the deep, messy innards of a piece of fiction. I just need to perform some kind of small surgery, stitch some words together--just a few strings of words, I tell myself--to make this into a beautiful, wonderful piece of writing.
It will convey my most deep, profound views on life, love, loss, etc. etc. etc. This will be the story I was meant to write; this story will change me; this story will change others. (Oh Jenna, you poor, poor thing).
Then. It is time.
I sit down at my desk and boot up my computer. At first I am excited and overjoyed to be embarking on what I know will be the best thing I have ever written. I am just bubbling over with excitement.
And then.......not much later I am staring at my computer in loathing. Oh you evil machine. How I hate you and the vast whiteness of your word processor.
An hour, maybe two later I get about 3 paragraphs down. And I realize all of my brilliant ideas and witty dialogue and heart-wrenching scenes could be the script of a Lifetime Original movie. It seems I have performed the surgery with a giant, electric carving knife. The kind my dad uses to butcher the Thanksgiving turkey every year.
I erase, try again. Erase, try again.
I make some coffee. I play with my cat. I go in my closet and try to put together new outfits out of old clothing. Then I want to go shopping. I'm broke, so I reluctantly go back to the computer.
THEN--I have a burst of inspiration.
I write it down.
Terrible, I tell myself. God-awful.
Erase.
I do this about a billion times before I finally will myself (practically have to blindfold myself) to write pages and pages of words without going back and reading and analyzing the hell out them.
It's like an abusive relationship. I hate it, I want out....and yet....I keep going back for more every time....
Eventually I end up with a first draft of something. It's not life-altering. It's usually pretty terrible. But it's something. And I can deal with something.
As much as I complain about my advanced reporting class and news writing in general, there is something to be said about taking a bunch of facts, following the recipe down to the teaspon, sprinkling in some interview quotes and throwing it onto a paper plate, popping it into the microwave and serving with plastic utensils. And all in a cold, calculated way. Sometimes it's a relief.
Fiction writing is like spending hours and hours (AND HOURS) in the kitchen mixing this and that and sticking a finger in for a taste, deciding it needs a little more of this, a little more of that, and then placing it in the oven for a few hours to marinate. You take it out, decide next time to add a little more of this, a little less of that. Then the next day you try it again, and it's a little bit tastier. And so it goes, until you've got the dish you've been wanting to make for quite some time.
(P.S. I'm still in the don't-go-back-and-read-a-damn-word-you've-written-or-else-you'll-want-to-pluck-your-eyelashes-out-one-by-one stage of the story I am currently working on).
P.P.S. It is nearly 2 AM and I am in the ILC and I am a little bit delirious. Good job if you made it all the way through this one.
"Weird" is the word of the day
It's been a weird sort of few weeks. I've been sick for like, two weeks now, and it's really getting frustrating. I want to be able to frickin breathe through my nose.
I'm just in a weird mood right now. I've been having weird dreams lately. Last night was the second time recentl
y that I had a dream about unintentionally killing a bird. it's not as morbid as it sounds, don't worry. In the first dream I had, I was on the beach and there were hundreds of seagulls flying around me, but none of them were touching me and I wasn't scared, I was happy. For some reason I had to run around and catch a bird, I had to find the fattest bird that I could and catch it. I caught one in my hands; it was a fat pigeon with glossy green peacock feathers. I was proud of myself. I started to run with it in my hands, making sure I wasn't holding it too tightly or hurting it. It was trying to flap its wings and fly away but I wouldn't let it. I brought it to a group of my friends. As soon as I stopped running I knew something was wrong. Its wing beats had gotten more and more feeble, and I finally couldn't feel them anymore. It couldn't be dead, I had to make it fly. I opened my hands and it wasn't moving. I wanted it to be alive so desperately, but I just knew it wasn't. I couldn't accept it. I flung it up in the air, wanting it to fly but knowing it wouldn't, and it fell back to the ground. I was so sad, and felt so horrible that I had killed it...
I guess it was kind of a morbid dream. But the one last night was even stranger.
I was in a place with a lot of animals, but not a zoo, I don't know where. Every sort of animal. They were all in cages, but the electricity had failed, and I heard an announcement over speakers that all their cages had opened and they were loose (I think this was my brain regurgitating a part of Shutter Island... I saw it last night; i tend to dream about movies if i see them late at night). I remember being really afraid, and looking down around my feet, like I expected to see animals attacking me. I knew the animals would be wild and violent. Official people were running around trying to subdue the animals, but it was just making them more angry. I remember thinking, if i'
m just nice and calm with the animals, they'll do what I want them to. There was a dog-like animal trying to attack me. I just stayed calm and let it chew on my hand, like my dog does when we're playing, and it stopped struggling and became calm. I was proud that my theory was right. I saw a fat white bird on the ground, and when I tried to approach it, it was startled and flew away like all birds do, but I knew that I could catch it if I was calm and slow. So I approached it again and it let me pick it up in my hands. Just like in the first dream, It was beating its wings in my hands while I was walking with it. It was inflating like a balloon, and it kept getting bigger and bigger. I must have been trying to take it somewhere, but I don't know where. Same as in the first dream, when I got there, it was motionless and I knew I had killed it. I opened my hands and it floated up, then slowly floated back to the ground, like a helium balloon that's lost too much air. Just like the first dream, I was horrified with myself and couldn't believe I had killed it.
I don't know why I have these dreams. They must be significant in some way, but I can't imagine how. Dreams are interesting.
I've been thinking about the past a lot recently. even more than usual, and I usually think too much about the past. There's just been certain things bugging me, unresolved relationship issues, etcetera, and I can't figure out why they should bother me at all. I think i'm huge on relationship closure. Just closure in general. I just can't end on a bad note with someone, even someone I don't like, don't know really know, or don't care about at all. I always end up trying to fix things, even months down the line, when most of the time it's either too late, or people just get irratated with my concern. And if I don't fix it, it just eats away at me until it starts cropping up in my dreams, and then I know it's a real problem.
I seem to have a lot of good story dreams. The sort of dreams that are entertaining to tell people because they're so weird and/or symbolic. Like the teeth falling out in the halls dream. Or the reoccuring unpreparedness dream, where I have a performance or a competition and I don't have my music learned at all, or I forgot the music, or i'm wearing a horrible outfit. Or the dream where I drove my car into a pool on accident (I've also had two recent dreams about having to rescue my flute from inside a pool... what could that possibly mean...). Or the dream where I was elated to find I could play the soprano saxophone beautifully when never having played it before.
God. This has been a weird blog. Sorry if my bird killing dreams were at all disturbing.
On a lighter note, I got my acceptance letter to UA. so it's official. Now I can officially be mediocre in school and nobody can rightfully give me crap about it, i'm already accepted! hahah.
I'm just in a weird mood right now. I've been having weird dreams lately. Last night was the second time recentl
y that I had a dream about unintentionally killing a bird. it's not as morbid as it sounds, don't worry. In the first dream I had, I was on the beach and there were hundreds of seagulls flying around me, but none of them were touching me and I wasn't scared, I was happy. For some reason I had to run around and catch a bird, I had to find the fattest bird that I could and catch it. I caught one in my hands; it was a fat pigeon with glossy green peacock feathers. I was proud of myself. I started to run with it in my hands, making sure I wasn't holding it too tightly or hurting it. It was trying to flap its wings and fly away but I wouldn't let it. I brought it to a group of my friends. As soon as I stopped running I knew something was wrong. Its wing beats had gotten more and more feeble, and I finally couldn't feel them anymore. It couldn't be dead, I had to make it fly. I opened my hands and it wasn't moving. I wanted it to be alive so desperately, but I just knew it wasn't. I couldn't accept it. I flung it up in the air, wanting it to fly but knowing it wouldn't, and it fell back to the ground. I was so sad, and felt so horrible that I had killed it...I guess it was kind of a morbid dream. But the one last night was even stranger.
I was in a place with a lot of animals, but not a zoo, I don't know where. Every sort of animal. They were all in cages, but the electricity had failed, and I heard an announcement over speakers that all their cages had opened and they were loose (I think this was my brain regurgitating a part of Shutter Island... I saw it last night; i tend to dream about movies if i see them late at night). I remember being really afraid, and looking down around my feet, like I expected to see animals attacking me. I knew the animals would be wild and violent. Official people were running around trying to subdue the animals, but it was just making them more angry. I remember thinking, if i'
m just nice and calm with the animals, they'll do what I want them to. There was a dog-like animal trying to attack me. I just stayed calm and let it chew on my hand, like my dog does when we're playing, and it stopped struggling and became calm. I was proud that my theory was right. I saw a fat white bird on the ground, and when I tried to approach it, it was startled and flew away like all birds do, but I knew that I could catch it if I was calm and slow. So I approached it again and it let me pick it up in my hands. Just like in the first dream, It was beating its wings in my hands while I was walking with it. It was inflating like a balloon, and it kept getting bigger and bigger. I must have been trying to take it somewhere, but I don't know where. Same as in the first dream, when I got there, it was motionless and I knew I had killed it. I opened my hands and it floated up, then slowly floated back to the ground, like a helium balloon that's lost too much air. Just like the first dream, I was horrified with myself and couldn't believe I had killed it.I don't know why I have these dreams. They must be significant in some way, but I can't imagine how. Dreams are interesting.
I've been thinking about the past a lot recently. even more than usual, and I usually think too much about the past. There's just been certain things bugging me, unresolved relationship issues, etcetera, and I can't figure out why they should bother me at all. I think i'm huge on relationship closure. Just closure in general. I just can't end on a bad note with someone, even someone I don't like, don't know really know, or don't care about at all. I always end up trying to fix things, even months down the line, when most of the time it's either too late, or people just get irratated with my concern. And if I don't fix it, it just eats away at me until it starts cropping up in my dreams, and then I know it's a real problem.
I seem to have a lot of good story dreams. The sort of dreams that are entertaining to tell people because they're so weird and/or symbolic. Like the teeth falling out in the halls dream. Or the reoccuring unpreparedness dream, where I have a performance or a competition and I don't have my music learned at all, or I forgot the music, or i'm wearing a horrible outfit. Or the dream where I drove my car into a pool on accident (I've also had two recent dreams about having to rescue my flute from inside a pool... what could that possibly mean...). Or the dream where I was elated to find I could play the soprano saxophone beautifully when never having played it before.
God. This has been a weird blog. Sorry if my bird killing dreams were at all disturbing.
On a lighter note, I got my acceptance letter to UA. so it's official. Now I can officially be mediocre in school and nobody can rightfully give me crap about it, i'm already accepted! hahah.
Sunday, January 24, 2010
Atypical sunday night
I heard recently from a friend that if you don't think back on memories regularly, they go away. they just vanish, and then you can't remember, even if you try. Which scares me. I have so many memories I don't want to vanish. I feel like I should be writing about them so much more regularly than I do.
this is back from sophomore year... and the only reason I put it on here is because it makes me laugh literally every time I see it, and a picture gets peoples' interest when they see the blog title. This is like, the most perfectly captured moment ever. I look exactly like i'm talking to the pizza. priceless.
So I'm sitting here drinking my second cup of English breakfast tea for the day, just thinking. I've had a good weekend. The snow was fun because I got to hang out with friends more than I usually do, and snow is always fun, but it would get annoying and extremely inconveniencing living somewhere where it snows more than once in a great while, like it does here.
I went to see my counselor on saturday for one of the last times. It's always a nice release and i'll miss it, even though I won't miss having to go to phoenix for the appointments. I guess we've agreed that i'll stop going when I graduate. Or once my parents' divorce is official. I guess they figure I won't have any stress factors in my life once those things happen. Hahah.
Mom and I went shopping after my appointment, which was very fun and successful. I finally got some above the knee boots and a black blazer, which was a very, very good buy... I feel like just the blazer opens up so many outfit possibilities.
I'm ridiculous. hahaha. What can I say, I take my clothing very seriously and i'm proud of it.
Today I saw avatar, which was very good, but I still don't understand ALL the hype. Like why it's still getting sold out weeks after its premiere. But oh well.
So after reading a friend's recent blog i'm left with thinking about my own friends and how I wish I handled friendship differently. I don't understand why it's so hard for me to tell my friends that I love and care about them, and why that's not a regular thing. It's almost like we're guys and we're too macho to acknowledge things like that. Or maybe that's just me. I just wish I had handled things differently in the past. It seems like over time it's gotten harder and harder for me to tell people how I feel about things. And I don't know why.
I've been thinking about college a lot lately. Not stressing over it so much, but thinking about what it will be like to leave here. To leave my friends and break up with my boyfriend because, being the realistic/pessimistic person I am, I don't think long distance would work. And being the coward that I am, I don't want to run the risk of being broken up with when he realizes that there's a whole other world out there that doesn't include me, or having to break his heart... I would much rather it be mutual and equal for the both of us. I'm lucky that some of my closest friends are going to the same college as me. I'm also excited to make new friends. I'm worried that I WON'T make new friends. And that, like my mother says, if I don't involve myself right away i'll be sucked into this black hole of introversion and shyness, only to stay in my dorm room alone until people notice me. That sounds like something I would do. I need to force myself to be less passive about socialization for once.
Anyways, it's sunday night and I have nothing to do for once. No work i'm scrambling to get done. I'm still going to be so tired tomorrow morning. I'm going to sleep.
this is back from sophomore year... and the only reason I put it on here is because it makes me laugh literally every time I see it, and a picture gets peoples' interest when they see the blog title. This is like, the most perfectly captured moment ever. I look exactly like i'm talking to the pizza. priceless.So I'm sitting here drinking my second cup of English breakfast tea for the day, just thinking. I've had a good weekend. The snow was fun because I got to hang out with friends more than I usually do, and snow is always fun, but it would get annoying and extremely inconveniencing living somewhere where it snows more than once in a great while, like it does here.
I went to see my counselor on saturday for one of the last times. It's always a nice release and i'll miss it, even though I won't miss having to go to phoenix for the appointments. I guess we've agreed that i'll stop going when I graduate. Or once my parents' divorce is official. I guess they figure I won't have any stress factors in my life once those things happen. Hahah.
Mom and I went shopping after my appointment, which was very fun and successful. I finally got some above the knee boots and a black blazer, which was a very, very good buy... I feel like just the blazer opens up so many outfit possibilities.
I'm ridiculous. hahaha. What can I say, I take my clothing very seriously and i'm proud of it.
Today I saw avatar, which was very good, but I still don't understand ALL the hype. Like why it's still getting sold out weeks after its premiere. But oh well.
So after reading a friend's recent blog i'm left with thinking about my own friends and how I wish I handled friendship differently. I don't understand why it's so hard for me to tell my friends that I love and care about them, and why that's not a regular thing. It's almost like we're guys and we're too macho to acknowledge things like that. Or maybe that's just me. I just wish I had handled things differently in the past. It seems like over time it's gotten harder and harder for me to tell people how I feel about things. And I don't know why.
I've been thinking about college a lot lately. Not stressing over it so much, but thinking about what it will be like to leave here. To leave my friends and break up with my boyfriend because, being the realistic/pessimistic person I am, I don't think long distance would work. And being the coward that I am, I don't want to run the risk of being broken up with when he realizes that there's a whole other world out there that doesn't include me, or having to break his heart... I would much rather it be mutual and equal for the both of us. I'm lucky that some of my closest friends are going to the same college as me. I'm also excited to make new friends. I'm worried that I WON'T make new friends. And that, like my mother says, if I don't involve myself right away i'll be sucked into this black hole of introversion and shyness, only to stay in my dorm room alone until people notice me. That sounds like something I would do. I need to force myself to be less passive about socialization for once.
Anyways, it's sunday night and I have nothing to do for once. No work i'm scrambling to get done. I'm still going to be so tired tomorrow morning. I'm going to sleep.
Sunday, January 17, 2010
Not so distant past and future
well, i'm not going to give the whole rundown on London, because needless to say it was amazing. the only thing that completely sucked was the food. it was absolutely terrible. but the city was cool. hahaha.
And backtracking a little, my Christmas was also pretty good. it was good, but hard, having everything be so new. everything's kinda hard right now. i'm stressing about college and auditions still, my college audition but mostly regionals (which i'm sure everyone thinks is much less important than college auditions but it's very important to me for some reason). i'm nervous about it because i've improved every year by a lot, and this year i'll be disappointed if I don't improve again and it'll be really hard. freshman year I got 9th, sophomore year I got 4th, last year I got 2nd, and this year, the only place I could get that would be improvement is first. so I don't know if I will. i'm pushing myself too hard and stressing about that.
a good thing is that I switched out of statistics and into orchestra, where all I do is practice my flute every day and I get credit for it. it's the best thing I could have hoped for. hahaha. It truly makes me happy, happier than anything, but I have so many doubts about it as a career still. I always just feel like i'm not good enough to pursue a music career; like I should just keep it as a hobby but do something else more practical in college.
But on the other hand... when I imagine doing anything else I know I would be bored and unfulfilled. So I guess there's my answer. It's crazy to think about; a few years ago I never would have thought I would pick this as my future career, but it's all I can see myself doing. I'm scared about it. I just can't wait to be in college and have everything settled. I will miss my mom a lot, i've come to realize. Sure, it'll be nice to not have forced parental influence over every part of my life, but I know i'll miss her. She's not so controlling that it will be a complete relief. I'll miss going to cracker barrell with her every sunday morning and i'll even miss the things I usually choose not to do with her, like watch old movies on friday and saturday nights. Makes me wish I had taken her up on more of those offers. But we still have the rest of the year and summer. And believe me, I AM ready to get out of the house, even if i'll miss her. hahahah.
having only two real classes has been ridiculously easy, so i'm occupying my spare time by practicing more, knitting, and playing the sims. i'm pretty proud of the first two. i'm still working on Sam's christmas present scarf. Anyways, i'll try to start writing more regularly. I sure have the time.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)