So It Begins

You guys. YOU GUYS.

Big Funny Kid, FG, Prom Date, AND New One are all coming over.

Tonight.

I haven't seen BFK in nearly a month.

I AM SO EXCITED RIGHT NOW.

That is all.

Life Advice From An Old Crow

I went to see my great-grandmother yesterday. She is ninety-five years old. It was the first time I had seen her since her birthday in September (I think), and I felt bad because I really should be seeing her a whole lot more. She's always so happy to see us.

Gram has lived through every major national event since World War One. She has the most incredible memories, and the stories that she tells are amazing and often come out of nowhere.

I learned a lot about life from my visit yesterday. We had been talking about my cousin's plans for college, and then she asked me if I had any plans for myself. I don't, really. Not for sure, anyway. She asked if I wanted to do theater, and I said that I really, really want to, and do you know what she told me?

She said that she hoped I could do it because she knew how happy it makes me.

I had no idea how much I needed to hear that.

A few minutes later, as she was trying to describe my clothing style, she let her voice trail off a bit. Then, she took my hand and told me, "you're just...you're just you."

I didn't think about it then, but that was a really wonderful thing for her to say. I've been searching for the words to define myself for such a very long time, and it was nice to be reminded that no matter what, I am me.

Thank you to the little old woman with the crooked fingers and hair like cotton candy. I owe you one.

42

I think one of the biggest miracles is just that people get out of bed in the morning. They don't have to. Nothing is stopping any of us from living completely unproductive lives and burrowing under our covers for the rest of eternity. But...we do. We get up, we dress ourselves, we go to school and to work, we interact with other people who have done exactly the same thing. Shouldn't we all be patting each other on the backs, congratulating ourselves for being strong enough to face the day?

We are extraordinary, really. The human race practices so much restraint every day. If you think about it, there is nothing stopping you from doing whatever it is you wish to do-except yourself. If you wanted to break a law tomorrow, you could. But you don't-not because the law is keeping you from doing it, but because you fear the consequences of breaking the law. If we rolled through life with no consequences, imagine all of the things we would do. It would be awful. Each day is an exercise in self control. It's fascinating when you take the time to ponder over it for a little while.

People are so interesting to me. They are so complex. Part of the reason why I love everyone is because I see that complexity and appreciate it to its fullest extent. I see everyone as the most interesting person in the world. I just love listening to people talk, hearing their voice and reading their body language. For me it is more fun to watch and listen than to speak because I enjoy learning as much as I can about people. And I already know pretty much everything about myself.

This has been Deep Thoughts On Life And Humanity with MurrBeth.

Just In Case You Didn't Already Know Everything About Me

I had the opportunity to take the Gallup StrengthsFinder Test a little while ago. Basically, you answer a whole bunch of questions and Gallup matches you with your top five strongest personality traits. They actually have a list of 34 traits, and the probability that someone else has the exact same ranking for all 34 is something like one in 63 billion. It's very, very personal and super cool. So I thought I'd share mine with you.

Trait: Includer
"Stretch the circle wider." This is the philosophy around which you orient your life. You want to include people and make them feel part of the group. In direct contrast to those who are drawn only to exclusive groups, you actively avoid those groups that exclude others...You hate the sight of someone on the outside looking in...You are an instinctively accepting person. Regardless of race or sex or nationality or personality or faith, you cast few judgements. Judgements can hurt a person's feelings. Why do that if you don't have to? Your accepting nature does not necessarily rest on a belief that each of us is different and that one should respect these differences. Rather, it rests on your conviction that fundamentally we are all the same. We are all equally important. Thus, no one should be ignored. Each of us should be included. It's the least we all deserve.

Trait:Input
You are inquisitive. You collect things...Whatever you collect, you collect because it interests you. And yours is the kind of mind that finds so many things interesting. The world is exciting precisely because of its infinite variety and complexity...If you like to travel, it is because each new location offers novel artifacts and facts. These can be acquired and then stored away. Why are they worth storing? At the time of storing it is often hard to say exactly when and why you might need them, but who knows when they might become useful? With all those possible uses in mind, you don't really feel comfortable throwing anything away. So you keep compiling and filing stuff away. It's interesting. It keeps your mind fresh. And perhaps one day some of it will prove valuable.

Trait:Empathy
You can sense the emotions of those around you. You can feel what they are feeling as though their feelings are your own. Intuitively, you are able to see the world through their eyes and share their perspective. You do not necessarily agree with each person's perspective. You do not necessarily feel pity for each person's predicament [or] condone the choices each person makes, but you do understand. This instinctive ability to understand is powerful...Where others grapple for words, you seem to find the right words and the right tone. You help people find the right phrases to express their feelings-to themselves as well as to others. You help them give voice to their emotional life. For all these reasons other people are drawn to you.

Trait:Strategic
The strategic theme enables you to sort through the clutter and find the best route. It is not a skill that can be taught. It is a distinct way of thinking, a special perspective on the world at large. This perspective allows you to see patterns where others simply see complexity. Mindful of these patterns, you [are] always asking "What is this happened? Okay, well what if THIS happened?" This recurring question helps you to see around the next corner. There you can evaluate accurately the potential obstacles. Guided by where you see each path leading, you start to make selections. You discard the paths that lead nowhere...You cull and make selections until you arrive at the chosen path-your strategy. Armed with your strategy, you strike forward. This is your Strategic theme at work: "What if?" Select. Strike.

Trait:Adaptability
You live in the moment. You don't see the future as a fixed destination. Instead, you see it as a place that you create out of the choices that you make right now. And so you discover your future one choice at a time. This doesn't mean that you don't have plans. You probably do. But this theme of Adaptibility does enable you to respond willingly to the demands of the moment even if they pull you away from your plans. Unlike some, you don't resent sudden requests or unforeseen detours...on some level you actually look forward to them. You are, at heart, a very flexible person who can stay productive when the demands of work are pulling you in many different directions at once.

It's kind of scary how well these fit me. But I've really embraced them all and I am able to understand why I do things the way I do. And maybe you do now as well.

Goodnight, my dears.

Yeah...I Guess I'm Back...

I've decided for now that maybe it's time for me to come back. My brain is getting angry at the rest of me for not posting new things.

Oh, who am I kidding. It was a big step for me just to go to this page. I am pushing myself really, really hard right now to write anything down.

I feel like I owe you all an explanation of what exactly is going on with me. I'm having some emotional issues which began about a month ago and grew much worse last week. Looking back at my journal entries, I am able pinpoint just exactly when this all started-it's funny that I didn't realize what it was at first. I'm not a particularly observant person when it comes to myself. But I'm really, really good at picking up these kinds of things in other people. I pick changes in speech patterns and respond to body language in a way that I don't think a lot of people can. I wonder why that is. I just love listening to people, I guess.

You have no idea how weird it is to be back here. Well, maybe you do. Maybe you can read into all the reluctance and the caution and the lack of motivation that I think is taking a leisurely stroll through my brain right now. Actually, that is happening all the time now. I just don't want to do anything.

People keep reading this and telling me it makes them sad. And I'm sorry that you're sad and everything, but please please please don't tell me of all people. I don't want to sound mean right now, so I am going to leave it at that. Ugh, but there are so many things I want to say about this.

I think I am going to take a break for a while. I don't have anything to say.

It hurts to be typing this. I didn't want to tell you all. I'm sorry. But I need to.

I think it's sickeningly ironic that I love listening to other people talk about their problems when I don't even know how to talk about my own.

Dude, We're Getting The Band Back Together!

I really do love today. I got the chance to spend these past few hours with my girls, and it was glorious. Jessicaaaaa, My Favorite Canadian, MoDawg, Lil' Newton, and Trish are all in town for the break. We decided that a Chinese food extravaganza was in order (Chinese food is a pretty big deal in these parts) for the evening. I seriously almost peed my pants when Trish's car showed up in my driveway. I hadn't seen her since she surprised me that one day at Hogwarts. Oh, it was so wonderful. You have no idea how much I missed them all. It was so good to talk and laugh and eat Asian Crispy Rolls with them. I think that was exactly what I needed. It was so hard when Lil' Newton and I had to leave the rest of them-why on Earth did I have to say goodbye? I just want to be with them all forever.

The real tears started when Lil' Newton and I got out to the parking lot. I hadn't seen her since August. I wish I had gotten to hear more about her fabulous college life. We spent the whole time talking about all my issues. She is such a gem. I took every opportunity to pick her up and spin her around. I hate that she had to leave. I cried for a long while afterwards-I don't think I realized the full extent of how much I missed them all.

Three more weeks until they're home again. Let the countdown commence.

Shaking My Fists At The Sky

The world is sort of crashing down around us. It seems as if everything that could possibly go wrong, has. Like Murphy's Law woke up this morning and took a giant dump on today.

But seriously, people. It's days like this that make me throw my hands into the air screaming WHY? over and over.

Who decided that it was ever okay for the young to die? That poor, poor girl from Bennington-she could have done so much. She could have solved the water crisis, or come up with the cure for cancer, or any number of world-changing things. She could have been a mother if she wanted to. I didn't know her. And now I never will. But I know people who did know her. They have lost a friend. My heart breaks for her, for them, and for her family.

She had two friends in the car with her. They are alive. They will deal with that in their own way for the rest of their lives.

I wish I could take all of the pain and the grief from this world and keep it to myself.

When these things happen, I tell myself that if there is a god (and I want to believe there is one-I want to, so badly), said god must surely be a man. No woman would want this.

I want to believe that one day we will see all the people we have lost. That maybe there is a heaven, or something along those lines. But my mind is far too small to wrap my head around the concept of an afterlife. So for now, I just...I just don't know.

There are so many things that I don't know. There are so many questions I haven't answered, so many times I have screamed WHY? and gotten no response. I am going to keep asking until I know.

Maybe I'll never know.

Something's Wrong Here...

I've noticed that my writing isn't coming as easily to me as it used to. I don't know when things started getting harder for me, but the words no longer flow steadily and easily and beautifully. No, when I read back over something I have written, the sentences seem choppy and disconnected. They jump from place to place too quickly.

Something's wrong. I have to push myself to write in my journal, to blog, to do homework, to swim, to wake up, to go to school, to sit with my friends at lunch and not just curl up into a little ball in the study lounge and go to sleep. I feel a sinister sort of lazy. Somehow or another I am aware of the fact that this feeling that I'm feeling right now is truly and deeply negative. But I don't know when it started, where it's coming from, or how to rid myself of it.

Ms. Clavel turned on her light and said, "something is not right."

The Russians!

Oh my goodness! The Russians are back!

I, for one, am Russian back and forth in excitement.

I am so punny.




And I apologize for this weirdness. I'll be back with a slightly more relevant post later.

It's Been Awhile

I haven't blogged for a long time. I'm sorry. Then again, maybe I'm not. I guess I just haven't been feeling it. Uggh, I am such a diva.

Last night I partied it up with my girls from Hogwarts. We went to pizza and a musical chemistry show. Baby Carrot drove me around the city; we had some great quality bonding time. I was surprised about both how little I knew about her and how similar we actually are. We're going to be really good friends, I think.

I've been getting surprised a lot lately. It's made me realize that I never really used to like surprises. People were as I saw them initially; nobody changed in my eyes. I'm a lot like Lizzie Bennett from Pride and Prejudice in that respect. For my perceptions of those around me to change, I had to admit that I was wrong in the first place. I don't like to do that. But now, I am really really truly ashamed of that part of myself. I am making an effort to believe the best of all people, no matter what they look like or what I've heard about them or anything else that people use to pass judgement on others.

So now, I really do like the unexpected. When someone surprises me, I gain a friend.

I am trying so hard. So very very hard.

Thank You For Being A Friend

It's been two days and I now consider myself fully recovered from a splendid weekend. It really was wonderful. Most of Saturday night was spent kicking Rock Band's butt with Prom Date, FG, and BFK. Prom Date and I play a mean Yoshimi. And I attempted to teach FG the Bad Romance choreography- she decided she'd rather sing, but BFK joined me. He was surprisingly good. There was a lot of tacos and Quelf and staying up until the wee hours of the morning. I also got some quality BFK time while watching Saturday Night Live. That doesn't happen nearly enough- I miss him already. He is kinda my favorite person ever. But I'm pretty sure I've already blogged about that enough times. Oh well.

I think I took about three naps on Sunday. Most of them happened when I was trying to clean the babies' room. Mister Man's bed is too comfortable for words. All those naps aside, I felt positively dead today. Sure, maybe I should have gotten more sleep this weekend, but it was totally worth it. It's not often that I get to see Prom Date or BFK.

Here's to best friends, and the crazy, red-haired, fez-wearing woman who decided to keep me for the evening. I love you all.

It's Bob Dylan Day

I love that man. I know there are a lot of people out there who don't, but I take so much from his poetry. That's what it really is, after all. So I took some verses from a few of my favorites.

I'm a rambler, I’m a gambler
I’m a long way from my home
If the people don’t like me
They can leave me alone

She's got everything she needs
She's an artist, she don't look back
She's got everything she needs
She's an artist, she don't look back
She can take the dark out of nighttime
And paint the daytime black.

The highway is for gamblers, better use your sense
Take what you have gathered from coincidence
The empty-handed painter from your streets
Is drawing crazy patterns on your sheets
This sky, too, is folding under you
And it’s all over now, Baby Blue

May your hands always be busy
May your feet always be swift
May you have a strong foundation
When the winds of changes shift
May your heart always be joyful
And may your song always be sung
May you stay forever young

I just realized something really important.

There's something in me that wants to protect the people I love from everything bad. I don't want them to be in pain, or be hurt by others, or have bad things said about them. When I hear people bad mouthing my dearest of dear friends, it makes me sick. I go somewhere and cry.

But today I realized that I can't shield them from everything. And sometimes, I don't even have to. I am fiercely loyal to those that I love and I will do absolutely anything for them...but I need to remember that sometimes I have to sit back. I hate sitting back and doing nothing. I want to defend my friends against anything that could possibly hurt them. Knowing that I can't do that all the time kills me inside.

I hate crying like this. But the glitter that is running down my face makes things a little prettier looking.

I am just so in love with everyone right now.

There's No Place Like Home

Last night wrapped up the greatest two months of my life so far. Charlotte's Web is over. I don't quite know what to do with myself.

I am so so proud to be a part of Duchesne Theater. I really feel like I have made a home here over the past two years, and the friends I have made will stay my friends for life. We are just the most wonderful family. Sometimes I think about what my life would be like now if I didn't have this beautiful thing in my life, and I know how horribly sad and changed and different I would be. My heart is so full of love for each and every person who was with me on that stage this weekend.

So to my beauties, thank you. We have gone through so much together and I am so very proud of all of us. A few of us may be going out into The World next year, and to those people I give all of the love in my heart. I just want you to know that once you set foot in Duchesne Theater, you will never truly leave. You will always have a home here-remember that.

Thank you all for a fantastic show and for being such a huge part of my life. I love every one of you with my whole heart.

Curtain

Tomorrow's the day.

Why Is That White Crap Falling From The Sky?

So it snowed today. And it was dark and cold and I really am not thrilled with all this weather stuff. I hate winter.

There are very few things that I hate. I make it a policy to love everybody. But winter is not a person, so I think that enables me to despise it. And I do. I really do.

Snow started falling very thickly and quickly before seventh block. Most of it melted before it hit the ground, but oh, Lordy, how that stuff fell. The sky had been grey the entire day and I felt like it was night time.

There are these things called Seasonal Affective Disorders that people get during certain seasons. That's what makes people want to curl up in a corner and sleep through the whole summer or winter or spring or fall. There's more to it than that, I know, but we're speaking in general terms here. I think maybe I have a winter SAD. I really really REALLY don't like it when it's dark outside. I want to see the Sun and just lie in the grass and feel its warmth on my back. I can't do that when it snows.

I think there's part of me that's afraid that the cold and the dark and the snow are going to stay forever. Call me melodramatic-I am about a lot of things. But that's the way my crazy little mind works.

I wish I could hibernate. I wouldn't have to take my Math test tomorrow.

The Final Countdown

I've never gotten overly excited for Halloween. In the past couple of years it's just been an occasion for me to dig out some weird clothes and take candy from strangers. But tomorrow- tomorrow I am going all out.

I found a very old My Little Pony costume in the basement today. Skinny Me wore it seven or eight years ago, I think. To celebrate my love for the series My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, I'll be going to school in full pony gear. It's amazing what The Management can do with a sweatsuit and a hot glue gun. This thing is magnificent, and it's stayed in great shape.

Tomorrow also kicks of the dreaded Tech Week. Personally, I've always loved the craziness of dress rehearsals and Tech Day and all that. I love nothing more than sitting in a dark, cold theater for hours and hours with people I love. Especially when there's food involved- everyone seems to make their best baked goods during Tech week. I love that.

But there are some down sides, too. No homework will be done. No sleep will be gotten. No sanity will remain. That's what happens when it's Theater Magic season, though. It comes with the territory.

Just a thought: I haven't done any "professional" theater for two years. Most of the other area actors who are my age do nothing but Omaha theater year-round. They get awards for that kind of stuff. I can't do theater outside of school- all of the good shows are at the same time as school shows. And you know what? I would much rather be making Theater Magic on the best high school stage in the city with the people I love than in some big-shot theater where no one sings Madonna songs.

And that's the daily rant.

Happy Halloween, y'all.

I Have Had Entirely Too Much Sleep And Don't Know What To Do With Myself

Sorry for the absence. There's been a lack of super interesting stuff going on in the past few days. I am sick with two ear infections and a rather bone-rattling cough. It is getting better, though.

A thought has popped into my mind just now about a pet peeve of mine. I really get annoyed by the overly-dubbed, overly-ornamented, adult-contemporary styled covers of super awesome Disney songs that play during the credits of super awesome Disney movies. They drive me NUTS.

I am feeling really gross now. There should be a law that requires people to shower at least once a day. Sometimes I am just too plain tired to do so, and the next day I suffer because of it. There's nothing worse to me than walking around with greasy hair. I don't mind it on other people, but I can't stand it on myself.

It feels like a Sunday.

I Can't Even Tell You...

...how infinitely much I love my pal Jumper.

The Nicknamer, The One That's Really Blonde, Miss Hannigan, and I went out tonight. There was a dance and we decided that the world deserved to see us tearing the place up. Anyway, we went and had a lovely time and my dearest of dears, Jumper, was there.

Oh-my-Lanta, I love that kid. He is the perfect friend. He is one of those people whom you can only be away from for about fifteen minutes. More than that and you start missing the crap out of him. This is because when Jumper walks into a room, everyone suddenly feels ten times better than before. He makes everyone want to jump for joy.

And the HUGS. Jumper gives the greatest hugs in the world. Hugging Jumper is a very comforting and reassuring experience. If I had a choice, I would probably be hugging Jumper for the rest of my days.

So tonight we danced. Bad Romance was the very last song played, and we sure did make a spectacle of it. I think he and I make a darn good team. We blew the roof off of that place. And now I want to do it AGAIN. And we will, but there are only so many more opportunities left-he graduates in the spring. Honestly I'm not quite sure what I am going to do after that. He is going to do great and wonderful and positively splendid things in The World, but I won't be hugging and dancing and making Theater Magic with him. And that makes me sad. But Jumper will come back, because once you enter Hogwarts School of Theater Magic you never truly leave.

Jumper, my dear, THANK YOU. There is more I could say, but I won't because I'm saving some of it for your birthday card.

For Love of Moles

My Chemistry teacher is crazy. In a good way. She is a very loud and interesting human being. I usually think she's adorable, the only problem is that I never understand any of the words that come out of her mouth. I am not math-and-science oriented the way some people are.

Anyway, this woman- Mrs. Molesky, we shall call her, is rather obsessed with The Mole. For those of you who never took chemistry or don't remember any of it, a Mole is defined as
6.02 x 10^23 atoms' worth of a particular thing. Basically, it's a chemist's dozen. A molesworth of any element is equivalent to the atomic mass of that element. Whatever. I have probably made your brains hurt with all of that science information, so I'm just going to start talking about the party. Every year on October 23 (10^23, remember?), chemists celebrate Mole Day. I guess it's kind of a big deal.

As part of the festivities, Mrs. Molesky is having us make our own moles-the ugly, blind, underground-dwelling creatures-in the likeness of our favorite mole-related bad puns. As a Potterhead, I chose to go with Moledemort. De-Facto Mongolian Sweetheart and Suspicious Water Bottle both came over to have pizza and construct our little critters. Moledemort, Bob the ToMoletoe, and the NarMole all turned out fabulously. What a wonderful night it was, three friends sprawled on the living room floor, constructing small mammals in the name of science.

I love my life.

Two Days of Women: Day Two

This morning I got all snazzied up in my fancy clothes (I wore HEELS, guys-it was a big day) and went to school. Today was the day that the girls and I got to celebrate the Wonderful Women in our lives. Naturally I brought along The Management.

There are so many things I could say about this woman. But first, I'd like to thank her for going through all that trouble to bring me into the world. From what I saw during part of one Biology class (which was very little, as I left the room before I could pass out-epidurals are SUPER scary looking!) it was really awful and hard and full of a whole ton of unpleasantness. But I'm glad she did it, or else I wouldn't be here, blogging about how great she is.

As my mother, she has shaped pretty much everything about me. Because of her, no one has ever reprimanded my conduct or my manner of speaking or the way I tie my shoes. I was most definitely not raised in a barn. (Well, I kind of was. But not in the figurative sense-I spent a lot of my little teeny kid years in a barn. She taught me to ride a horse, too.)

She is strong, she is kind, she is wise, she is loving, she is loyal, she is helpful, and she works entirely too hard. The Management needs to take a break from managing things. But she doesn't. The poor woman never stops doing anything. She gives so much to everyone else in her life that she has very little of whatever it is (time, love, bubble baths, snacks) to herself. Maybe that is just called Being A Mother, but I have always thought of it as a quality unique to The Management. She is the most selfless woman I have ever known. She is also a friend. I know that if there is something that I want to talk about, or if we're in the car and I feel like rambling, she will be there to listen and talk with me, not AT me.

However, sometimes she makes me think there's something weird about the two of us. I talk to a lot of people who say that they legitimately do not get along with their mothers. And that is fine. But I will never understand why. I have been blessed to have a wonderful and supportive relationship with The Management, and even though we get on each other's nerves quite often there will never be a time when I actually dislike her. This is partially because I make it a policy not to hate anyone at all, ever- I love literally every single person on the planet. But it is also because I don't believe that anybody could ever not like The Management. Yes, she has a penchant for crabbiness. But that's really just part of her Teaching Persona. She will readily admit that, as a teacher, she is always very crabby. Honestly I don't think she really IS that crabby, but I'll let her go on thinking that.

There's a lot more I could tell you all. But I'm worried that you just want to go to bed, so I'll stop. And also, The Management might get annoyed with me if I keep going on and on about her- even if she deserves it.

So, dear mother-o-mine, if you are reading this...thank you. Thank you for everything. I would list it all out but I'm afraid I might accidentally forget something important. I love you, Mom.

Two Days of Women:Day One

Today and tomorrow will be spent writing about women. Two specific women. Since tomorrow is a rather special day for the girls of Hogwarts (it celebrates the women who gave us life), I'll save my long list of why The Management is the most wonderful lady in the world for then. Today I am attempting to sing the praises of a woman known to me only as Ms. Moon.

When I first started this little site of mine (about seven months ago, I think), I came across a blog called Bless Our Hearts. I started reading...and read....and read...and I almost didn't stop. This woman, this writer, this blesser of hearts writes TWICE A DAY. I would love to get to the point where I had something wonderful to say even ONCE each day.

And the things Ms. Moon says are, indeed, wonderful. One day she is funny, the next serious; some days are spent blogging about her chickens, others about days gone by. And you know what? No matter what it is she feels like writing, when I read I am brought into that little Florida town and all of the sudden I am feeding those chickens and playing with that adorable little grandbaby of hers and I am looking at the human mind and asking Why? about so many things.

And yes, sometimes I cry.

Ms. Moon makes you think.

This woman is something else entirely. She is one of those people that I would love to sit down with, have tea or coffee or whatever, and just talk. Talk with her forever about the darndest things.

The funny thing is, I don't think she knows how cool she is. Oh well, the rest of us know.

So thanks, Ms. Moon, if you're reading this, for sharing so much of your life with us. Bless YOUR heart, my dear.

Dear Apple Cider,

Hi. It's your biggest fan speaking. I just wanted you to know that I never want you to leave. I know you're a seasonal drink, meant only for the fall and winter months. But I think we can make this relationship work. I love you, Apple Cider. You complete my chilly autumn mornings, as well as my hot summer days. Although I will always love coffee, there will be room for you in my heart forever.

When you disappear from store shelves in a few months, I will be terribly heartbroken. I don't rightly know what I will do without you. Warm apple juice just isn't the same. There is something special about you, Cider. You may not think so, but it's true.

Please make sure we have one last get together before you go away.

Warmly yours,
A Fall Beverage Enthusiast

The Greatest Thing Ever...

...happened to me on Thursday.

This week marked the end of the quarter not only for those of us at Hogwarts but also for college students around the country. Many of last year's seniors are now home on Fall Break, and a few of them dropped by school early in the week to say hello. Their reappearances made the sadness of Trish being gone fresh again.

Let me make this clear: I have missed and missed and missed her every single minute of every single freaking day since she left in August. She (and all of My People, for that matter) is so much more than a good friend. I love love LOVE her. And it makes me sad all over again whenever I walk down what used to be their hallway and no one is sitting there.

So I was feeling pretty bummed out all week. Then Thursday came, and I just wanted to go home and sort out my life and write letters and sleep. I was still thinking about this halfway through Swing Choir-my seventh class of the day-when the door opened, and in came My Favorite Canadian, who happens to attend the same school as...wait...

And then, ladies and gentlemen, TRISH CAME THROUGH THE DOOR.

I feel really bad for everyone in the room with me and in the classroom below me, because I screamed and ran straight to them. And I shed some eye water. A lot, actually.

I had no idea they were coming. It was just the most wonderful surprise. I still haven't gotten over my excitement.

Both of them came to rehearsal, where Jessicaaaaa made her equally unexpected entrance. De-Facto Mongolian Sweetheart got pretty emotional when that happened-the two of them are like sisters. I didn't let Trish out of my sight the whole time because I was worried she'd disappear. But she didn't-the three of them stayed until halfway through rehearsal. I won't be seeing her for a while, I think. She and My Favorite Canadian are driving back tomorrow.

When I came home I got her letter telling me that she was coming. To be honest, I'm really glad it didn't come earlier. I rather like surprises, especially when they have red hair.

Waiting...

I am coming at you live from a legitimate computer. I have commandeered The Management's laptop whilst I attempt to install the Almighty iCloud onto my dear buddy Gerard.

I fear The Cloud. Mostly because I'm still not quite sure what it is exactly, but also because I don't want to lose a whole quarter's worth of stuff. Also, I'm a little annoyed because Apple is forcing me to adopt the Cloud- if I don't update, I won't be able to do anything, basically. And I don't like being forced into doing things, even if I want to do them. The fact that I would be complying with The Man is enough to discourage me from taking any particular action.

Hold on. iTunes is telling me that the Cloud has decided to show mercy upon my technologically illiterate soul. It is restoring all of my apps and apparently has successfully backed up and updated Gerard. Wow.

Arthur Weasley said to "never trust anything that can think for itself if you can't see where it keeps its brain". Luckily I know precisely where this baby's hard drive is located. I consider myself prepared if The Cloud attempts to turn on me.

This Will Sound Insane

There are multiple people from Russia who repeatedly view this blog.

I find this wonderfully exciting.

Who are you, mysterious Russians? Do you have to translate these posts, or does the magical Interwebs do it for you? I am extremely curious about this subject.

In the words of Wilbur, "Please tell me where you are and if you are my friend". That's right, folks, at least I have ONE line memorized.

I Can Die Now.

Well, maybe not. But I am generally content with my life and have done everything that was on my short list of To Do's. It was Homecoming.

The evening began interestingly enough; I had a false eyelashes catastrophe which called for the immediate assistance of FG. She provided the glue necessary to ensure that those babies weren't going anywhere, and she did all of my makeup. I went to the dance as Gaga, that's why I was getting so thoroughly blinged out. She let me borrow some sweet sunglasses and a long blonde wig. I must say, I looked pretty fabulous.

Pre-dance, I met Save Yourself, Heeners, The Nicknamer, and Chimo at the home of The One Who's Really Blonde. We had lasagna and cookies and walked over to the dance. There's nothing in the world like Homecoming at Hogwarts. Everyone dances, everyone dresses up, the music is loud and they always play the best songs. Tonight was the night that I accomplished my goal of dancing to "Bad Romance" with my dear Jumper. He is pretty much a unicorn. Another thing that made me pretty much shriek with joy was that they played "Like A Prayer" for the very last song. That one is kind-of-a-big-deal around Hogwarts. Jumper and I jammed out to that one as well.

Overall, a highly successful evening. I still can't hear anything, my feet may never function properly again, and I am an exhausted and sweaty mess, but I am also one of the happiest people in the world.

Thanks to StuCo for one heck of a #Homecoming.

Cleaning Out The Closet Of My Mind

I'm pretty sure that's the title of a self-help book somewhere. But today I am using it to mark my "stream of consciousness" post. That might be the wrong phrase- all I'm doing is sharing all the miscellaneous bits of wonder that have happened over the course of the past few days.

I have worn two pairs of overalls, a mustache, a set of elephant ears, and one wedding dress.

I have successfully grasped the concept of The Mole.

I have spoken to people that I normally do not speak with. They are fantastically nice!

I have volunteered at a place that I love going back to every week.

I have seen old friends and laughed a lot.

I have experienced uncomfortable awkwardness around quite a few people.

I have sensed change.

I have heard music. (Congrats to Big Funny Kid, The Cat, Quiet Guy, and Musical Mastermind on an indescribably wonderful performance. They really are great.)

I have thought with anxiety about a lot of things.

I have thought with happiness about a few.

Luigi

My overalls. I love them. I think I will wear them for the rest of my life.

I don't exactly feel the same way about the fake mustache I'm wearing.

If You're Ever in Doubt...Find Something to Blog About

That didn't make sense. I just wanted to rhyme, okay? Deal with it.

I have finished the Overwhelmingly Evil And Confusing Project. Notecards included. The One Who's Really Blonde and I will rock this presentation on Dante. What is really unfortunate, though, is that I spent so much time worrying about making sure I had all of the project's required elements that I didn't get to really focus on Dante himself. I'm afraid that what little
information I've managed to absorb will fly away with the morning. (p.s. This project is
supposed to be about Renaissance Men- Dante was born in 1265. Not even close. Oh well, not my problem.)

The giant birthday bash for all of us kids was a success. Skinny Me made about ninety cupcakes, all of which are now gone. I could eat that raspberry buttercream with a spoon. Oh, and now I must learn to play the ukelele. FG and Company gave me a beautiful new one. I am counting on BFK to teach me.

Baby Carrot and I will be rocking our overalls at school tomorrow as Mario and Luigi. The first day of Homecoming Week at Hogwarts is always Twin Day. I'm extremely excited to find out what the rest of the week's themes are going to be.

I should finish reading Pride and Prejudice. I'm so glad we've finally moved on to the fun books in Brit Lit. I was cracking up for almost the entire class as we were discussing the first few chapters. Jane Austen is purely genius, plain and simple.

I'm off to explore the novel of manners. Goodnight, my dears.

Journal Entry #510

Goodbye September.

It's been a really great month. I'm going to miss it. The months are going by so fast now- in just four months it will be a new year. Can you believe it? I most certainly cannot.

I love September. I love the first feeling of fall. I love the crunchy leaves beneath my feet and especially under my bike. When I'm out on the road I go out of my way to ride over the leaves that look especially crunchy. And as much as I say I hate it, deep down inside I love the weather that can't seem to make up its mind. Part of me was joyful in knowing that something out there was more unpredictable than me (or my writing style, for that matter).

Let us move on to October: decidedly cold weather, college football, Halloween and homecoming. This is the month that I sometimes forget. This and November are the ones that I tend to skip over. Both in a row.

-original journal entry on September 30, 2011

Letters from Trish

Hogwarts gave us girls a much-needed day off today. Most of my fellow sophomores probably used it to get our many-faceted Renaissance Project finished. That class is a menace, but I'm sure that I've already blogged about that...somewhere...I wish I could spend a day off doing things that other people (as in those who don't take home backpacks the size of small elephants every weekend) spend their days off. When that happens, I will probably cry. But I cry a lot, so that doesn't mean much, I guess.

I was extremely and stupendously excited to find a letter from Trish waiting for me when I came home today. She is in Minnesota now- her current plan is to be a Crazy Drama Teacher. Maybe she will have Father Steinbecker's job when he retires. I know that Trish has to go out into The World and do all those things that one is supposed to do in Life.

Side note: why do people tell us "these are the things you must do"? I didn't think there was a perfect plan for all life forms. If there is, let me know. I'll try and avoid it.

But good gracious, do I miss my Trish. I had to read the first letter I got from her twice- when I opened it I cried so much that I couldn't read. It's so good to hear from her. One day, when I don't have three million things going at once, I am going to finish that scarf I've been knitting her.

What is it in the world that makes someone pop up just when you are thinking about them?

Alrighty, dears. I am going to go worry about more things. I know I should stop that, but I really do like to worry. Especially about other people. It makes me worry about myself less.

My New Favorite Word

I can't say this enough today:

SUPERMEGAFOXYAWESOMEHOT.

That will be all, folks.

You Have Been Warned...

I'm just going to state up front that this post will be full of TMIs. I apologize. If you want, you can stop reading and go visit the blog of someone who hasn't been puking her insides out for the past eighteen hours.

That's right, y'all, yesterday I made darn good friends with The Porcelain Bowl. I blame that stupid Kashi microwave meal that I had for lunch. It's always the quiet ones that are guilty.

After eating that supposedly good-and-good-for-you vegetable bake, I began to feel a tad bit queasy. This feeling stayed with me throughout the rest of the day and reached its climax when I threw up backstage (we had rehearsal, but I skipped it and laid down instead). I apologize to anyone reading this who had the displeasure of hearing me. I'm rather loud.

I had one super intense regurgitation in the parking lot, followed by two more at home. It was all over and done with by nine p.m. Thank goodness- a girl can only take so much.

Anyway, I'll be going back to school later this afternoon. For now, though, I'm just watching what goes into my system.

Again, I'm really sorry to put all of you through the joy of hearing about my issues, but hey-it's my blog, right? So there.

Well, THAT Happened...Part 2

I spent yesterday afternoon passing out programs and selling bracelets while dressed in Elizabethan garb on the lawn of a castle. Seriously, we have a legitimate castle in dear old Homaha. It is bee-yooteeful. I wish we had been able to go inside.

By "we" I mean Big Funny Kid, Snow White, and That One Girl I Know From That One Place. Our job was to distribute programs to people who had come to watch the Nebraska Shakespeare Foundation's production of "Much Ado About Nothing". I guess Durmstrang gets a Shakespearian Acting workshop in exchange for our one hour of ambling about the yard, so that's a plus.

This was a highly awkward experience, to say the least. I am proud to say that I really don't enjoy strolling up to people and asking them for money- it makes me quite uncomfortable. Since I was so ill at ease with these random strangers whom I will probably never see again, my usual charm-the-pants-off-anyone attitude was totally gone. Plus, I stepped in multiple piles of dog poop, which was very unpleasant for both me and everyone around me.

Y'all wanna see a picture? Hear what Fairy Godmother has to say about the day's events at
www.wtf-n-stuff.blogspot.com . I look pretty stellar, let me assure you.

And for the second time in our lives together, BFK uttered that oh-so-suitable phrase: "Well, THAT happened."

Fun times, my friends. Makes me want to hit up a Renaissance fair.

Procrastinators Unite!

...tomorrow.

I keep telling myself to study for Brit Lit.

We have a test on Chaucer's "The Canterbury Tales" tomorrow. We've only truly read the General Prologue and "The Nun's Priest's Tale," but we are responsible for the short summaries of the other tales given to us by The Daly Prophet himself. What a guy. He speaks Middle English in class AND shares with us his love for NCIS. He is truly a Renaissance man.

Wow, I am really good at this not-studying thing. But I should try my hand at some schoolwork. Chanticleer the rooster is crowing my name.

Today In History...

I was birthed by none other than The Management. I am really glad it was her and not someone completely crazy. If she were not my mother, I wouldn't have gotten a wonderful and fantastic blog post dedicated especially to me. Either that or I wouldn't have been born...that would be problematic, I think. Here is the post of which I speak:

http://beckercaribbeanconnection.blogspot.com/2011/09/glitter-in-my-life.html

My day was simply splendid. Father Steinbecker and I biked up to Our Second Home for a mocha and a pumpkin cranberry muffin and then on to Hogwarts. It's a lucky thing that I didn't brung a lunch box...for some obscure reason everyone decided to make me delicious baked goods. I did not complain. Shout out to De-Facto Mongolian Sweetheart for the cupcakes and Suspicious Water Bottle for the pillow plate.

Also, and I think this is most surely worth noting, something wonderful happened yesterday. I GOT A LETTER FROM TRISH. A real live letter- in the mail and everything! It was so exciting. I definitely broke down and cried in the doorway. I miss her so much, and it was stupendous to know that she is doing well.

Rehearsals are going to be really tiring. Wilbur does a lot of jumping around. Doing so in a
long flowy dress today made me feel like I was frolicking in a meadow, which is an extremely pleasant sensation.

Today was also bettered by the fact that I received beautiful golden snitch pendant from The Management and a bottle of glitter from the always lovely and hilarious CKor.

Not much room for improvement today, folks.

Does it Annoy You That There's no Title Here?

Why do I always feel so whiny during study hall? I am even annoying myself. So I am going to share how positively, unbearably irritating I am.

I am going to whine about yesterday's College Fair and how freaked out I am. College Fairs sophomore year? I mean, it's good to start looking, but the overwhelming number of tables and representatives and free pens was kind of pushing the whole "you must decide NOW" thing that I'm not particularly fond of. I think maybe I should work on my Life Plan. But I don't really want to, so I won't.

Now you get to read my complaints about academic subjects. This is me, terribly irritated with the lack of clarity used by my Modern European History teacher. This is me, scared out of my mind by the Chemistry test I took second block.

ONE HOUR LATER

This is me, very relaxed by a lovely meditation session during Themes. I think I'm okay.

We start blocking today! So exciting.

Brrrr...

Question of the day:

WHY IS IT SO FREAKING COLD?!?!

I woke up every day this week with freezing feet. Cold weather makes me snuggle back up under the blankets, and because of that I've been sleeping way way WAY late every day this week. As in waking up at, like, six forty-five. Not cool.

So I just stole a rug from the basement to protect my poor toes from frostbite. I miss the good old days of wall-to-wall shag carpeting. Wait, I wasn't actually alive for those days. Never mind.

But I have to wake up really super early tomorrow, so it is bound to be even colder than it is when I usually wake up. Greaaaaaat.

Wish me luck, and hope that I don't return from my kayak excursion in the form of a giant ice cube.

Oink Oink

I can't remember if I mentioned this or not, but Charlotte's Web auditions were Friday. I was über nervous, but all went well and I got called back to read Goose, Templeton, and Wilbur. Those were alright but I didn't think it was that spectacular. De-Facto Mongolian Sweetheart read a beautiful Charlotte, SWB did some stellar barnyard animal impressions, and Baby Carrot gave quite the wonderful Fern reading.

And so we waited for two days. For the past 48 hours I have been almost as anxious as I've been for the past two months, waiting for my Pottermore email to arrive (it hasn't. But that's for another blog). Anyway, this day has been pretty rough on all of our nerves.

Particularly study hall, which came at the tail end of the day- right before the email was set to come out. It was one of those times where I had absolutely no idea what to do with my hands.

But the wait is over.

SWB: one of two lovely little lambs
Baby Carrot: Fern (uh, like, DUH)
De-Facto Mongolian Sweetheart: Charlotte (SO PROUD, she is vunderful)
Me: Wilbur.

I'm definitely thrilled, but also kind of nervous as to whether I can handle it. I'm pretty sure I can, and Father Steinbecker must think I can because if he didn't, I wouldn't be posting this right now.

It's just good to get the anxiety overwith. I can sleep in peace now.

RAWKed It

Quite a bit of stuff was rocked this weekend.

Ollie Webb public performance-rocked.

Evening with Prom Date, New One, FG, Accents-R-Us, and BFK-rocked.

Super awesome film-rocked.

Rock Band-RAWKed by none other than FG. Side note: Prom Date and I actually happen to do a pretty splendiferous cover of "Yoshimi Battles the Pink Robots."

Waffles and wonderful facon/goat cheese omelet-rocked. (Thanks, FG. Thar was tasty.)

Birthday party for Skinny Me-rocked. More breakfast food brought to you by The Management.

Mass gathering of family for great grandma's birthday-okay, maybe not as rocked as it should have been. But close enough.

I am now about to rock out to some sort of classical music as I prepare for an in-class essay over "The Iliad," the book which I find positively abhorrent.

Wish me luck, y'all.

Ms. Clavel Turned on the Light and Said,

"Something is not right."

Story of my life.

Turdsday

Thurrrrrrrsday. The word sends shivers of dread down my spine. Always has. This day of the week reminds me that I am but one day away from my beloved Fancy Friday. I'd be ready for the weekend if Thursday weren't in the way.

I have all my evil classes this day, too. Four of them, eighty minutes each. Chemistry. PreCalc (well, that class isn't nearly as bad). Theological Themes in Literature. And the joy of every sophomore's existence: Modern European History. The offspring of Death and the Holy Roman Empire that seems to have sprung forth from the very depths of Hell itself. I do not exaggerate. Not in the slightest.

Pardon the complaints. You may have to gird yourself for more of those cropping up in the future.

At the moment I am listening in awe to Regina Spektor's "Soviet Kitsch" album. Tis one that I'll run through multiple times every month or so. It gives me the same unique, tingly feeling every time I hear it. It's good music to sing when I'm feeling like Luna Lovegood.

The one good thing about Thursday: it means that tomorrow is...yup...FRIDAY. With tomorrow come snacks in Advisory, Swing Choir class, dress rehearsal for my favorite project EVER, and a chance to see who's left out of the most wonderful theater people in the world during Charlotte's Webb auditions. That means Jumper. SCORE.

Thursday night just got a whole lot better, y'all.

Sigh.

Oh, friends.

I am spending a lot of time with my thoughts lately. They don't seem to like me very much.

I'm gonna go scribble it out on some notebook paper now.

Here we go again.

Think. Breathe. Write

I realized today that I want to write for the rest of my life. I already do it so much, and it has always meant a lot to me...but now I really know.

This afternoon I went to a memoir-writing workshop given by a woman named Delphine Red Shirt. She wrote a memoir called "Bead on an Anthill," which is about her childhood as a Lakota girl growing up on the Pine Ridge reservation. As she talked about her language and her life, she sounded so peaceful. Like she counted every single breath she took.

Originally I went to the workshop to get out of my Theological Themes in Literature class (why I didn't just take P.and.A I will never know), but it turned out to be a wonderfully eye-opening experience. I'd always wanted to try my hand at remembering, but I never knew how to organize it. Memoirs aren't the same as autobiographies. You do not just start with your date of birth and end where you are now. You get to weave in and out through the loom of your memory and find what memories, thoughts, or actions speak most to you. It can be a challenge figuring out how to organize all these memories once you have written them down. I thought about that today as I wrote.

There's always been a part of me that knows I can write and wants to run with that idea. Sometimes I get to second guessing myself, and after those instances I don't write for a long time. But I don't think I'll do that again.

No promises, though.

Meatloaf Mish-Mosh

You see what I just did there? Alliteration is one of the best things life has to offer. No question about it.

Anyway, today was quite the hodge podge of events/emotions/foods/funny stuff. There was church and a wildly out of character emotional experience for me this morning. I think I'll just leave it at that for now. But I wrote almost ten pages about it while contemplatively consuming some raspberries, and I felt much better after a few hours. It's amazing what good fruit can do. In the afternoon, when I was happy, I went out and bought one rockin pair of parachute pants at my favorite store ever. And about eight hours ago I was greeted with vegan meatloaf by FG, The Man She Loves, and BFK. Apparently TMSL has a super fabulous biking app on his fancy schmancy new phone...honestly I think that's the only thing The Management will remember about this entire event. She was very impressed with it. Food was had: besides the "meat"loaf, FG also brought fried chicken, Mac&Cheese, bread, corn salad, and probably some other delicious things that I am forgetting. That woman needs to stop feeding us.

I got to sit and have a lovely, lengthy conversation with BFK. The kid makes me jealous with his guitar playing skills. He is quite good- loud, and quite good. He is my buddy. And I am so unbelievably glad that I got to talk with him today- I just needed to narrate my life to someone else. BFK will listen to me, and I really like to listen to him talk as well. It was just good to be able to take a walk and discuss the meaning of Life, the Universe, and Everything. I hadn't done that for a while. So thank you, BFK, for those wonderful words of yours. You keep me sane.

And then they went home. But we still have the leftovers.

Sparkly, Magic, Crazy, Golden Friendship

You ever loved somebody so infinitely much that it makes you smile and cry at the same time?

I do. Yeah, you're jealous.

De-Facto Mongolian Sweetheart, Suspicious Water Bottle, I Love George, and I had a last hurrah with my dearest dearest Lil' Newton. On Wednesday she makes a six hour drive to Saint Olaf in Minnesota so she can be all smart and get a degree in Biology. I admire her for her willingness to even go near that subject with a ten-foot pole. But then again, I admire her for a lot of things. And I could go into very thorough detail about all of them...but my fingers would probably fall off. Anyway, what you really need to know is that she is the smartest, sweetest, most magical, twirly, warm, kind, and utterly wonderful and magical frolicking buddy I have ever had the pleasure of skipping through the hallways with. And the best part is that I can pick her up and spin her around. It's quite a thrill, let me tell you.

So, Lil' Newton, thank you for one whole wonderful year of being my dearest friend. I cannot possibly use enough superlatives to accurately describe you. I hope that you have the time of your life in The World, and that you remember to come see me. I promise that I won't let your parents get too lonely-I will talk about cows with your dad and go produce shopping with your mother. I love you so much-and thanks for the cupcakes.

Journal Entry #467...Because There's Nothing New

I read Atonement once. A month or so ago. I thought it would be so interesting because of the previews, but I was reading and kept thinking it would get better...and it didn't. Just stayed long and descriptive. When the real story ended and there were still fifty pages to go, I didn't know what to do. I enjoyed and hated those last fifty pages more than another part of the book. But I didn't have a whole lot of options.

I wish I could dance on a single prayer/wish could be strong without the Scheisse yeah

Got a whole lotta money but we still pay rent/'cause you can't buy a house in Heaven.

I am looking & realizing that maybe I don't not believe in heaven...how does death work? Energy is not created or destroyed...so where does it go?


-original journal entry written on July 10, 2011

Goal 6, or Keeping The Dream Alive

Here at my dear school, we have five official Goals and Criteria that all of us learn freshman year and then promptly forget (well, I remembered, I guess). These goals can be summarized with the following words and phrases:

Goal One: God/Jesus
Goal Two: Homework
Goal Three: Service hours
Goal Four: Friends
Goal Five: Ground Floor, aww yeah!

But, dear readers, there is one more unspoken goal: Goal Six. This is the one that causes all the small creatures to appear. Goal Six, my friends, is "food".

Last year, in an attempt to fulfill this goal, some friends and I decided to have a dessert potluck at lunch on Fridays. Thus Fatty Friday was born.

And then we forgot about it. Until today, that is, when Heeners arrived with a large container of Reese's-filled brownies, The One That's Really Blond brought M&M bars, and The Nicknamer showed up with a lovely box full of pumpkin cupcakes. With cream cheese frosting, y'all. I love that girl. I do feel bad, though, because Save Yourself and I forgot stuff. But maybe that was a good thing-we didn't manage to totally finish anything off.

After a test run, I concur that maybe Fatty Friday should be a once-a-month thing. Food babies should only be conceived sparingly, you know.

The One With The Bat

No, I am not talking about the Friends episode. And no, I am not talking about a long wooden stick used in baseball. I am talking about a small flying rodent which passed directly over my head yesterday.

Little critters LOVE Hogwarts. Think about it:dark, cool corners in the summer, radiators in the winter, and an abundance of crumbs and forgotten food all year round. Because of all that we get a lot of furry friends in the building. Usually they're mice (like the giant ones that lived in a couch on Ground Floor last year), and there are always some friendly roaches hanging around, but occasionally we're visited by a bat or two. And yesterday happened to be one of those occasions.

A friend and I were walking to our lockers before the last bell rang. We were the only two on Ground Floor at throne, save two other freshmen. For some reason, we stopped to stare down the other end of the hallway, and before we knew it something had flown between our heads. Only when it got about thirty feet in front of us did We realize it was a bat. But those poor little freshmen didn't notice a thing until the little guy came flying back towards them-and us. There was a whole lot of screaming going down.

These are the kind of situations that tell you who your real friends are. Your sort-of friends are the ones that awkwardly wait for you to decide what to do. But your real friends get right to the point-they drop everything and save themselves. Luckily for me (I guess) I've got some true friends of my own-they go beyond the normal expectation. The dear girl I was in the hallway with promptly dropped her backpack, threw me in front of her, and slammed us both into the closest wall. For this incident, I will nickname her Save Yourself.

We sprinted into our locker room to avoid the bat, and then were joined by Baby Carrot. You probably don't remember her...go to For Good on this blog. Anyway, as we all stood in the doorway, Baby Carrot caught sight of the bat, and both she and Save Yourself ducked behind me. As if I had some sort of Anti-Rabies Force Field. Now there's an idea...

The memory of this day will fade from the minds of those that weren't there, but I know that it will go down as the day I realized...

If my friends and I were stranded on a desert island with no food,
I would most definitely be the one getting eaten.

Yucky Stuff.

Never mind how much I love going to Hogwarts, going back after a lovely and lengthy break is positively icky. Blech. Yuckfest. Gag me with a spoon. No matter that my fellow sophomores and I have just been thrust into what is commonly known among the student body as the most difficult year, both academic and otherwise. Yay. I am positively bursting with anticipation as to what the next nine months will bring. This must be how sarcastic women feel when they are pregnant. Hmm...

But actually, there are a few bright spots that have emerged from the load of seemingly endless crap I have experienced in the past five days:

A. My Greek-fluent, suspenders-wearing, big-word-using, fast-talking English teacher is just that. So along with notes, I am recording what will soon be known as The Daily Daly Podcast. (note to self: should the opportunity arise, nickname this guy the Daly Prophet)

2. I have to give up Wednesday's eighty minute study hall for an evil class called Computer Essentials. But since it is basically one unconstitutionally long troubleshooting program, it allows me to wander aimlessly with Gerard (my iPad2) and looks up pictures of narwhals and study the art of rainbow hair-streaking. Summer 2012, here I come!

D. MEH. Okay, so maybe there isn't an upside to that one. Never mind.

However, I think the biggest issue that I'm having with the start of school is that in less than three years I will not be attending Hogwarts-I will be off on another great adventure to another mysterious school. I say mysterious because I have absolutely no idea where that would be. I keep telling myself that it's okay that I have no idea what I want to do with my life, but I know that soon there will actually be some sense of urgency. Honestly, who needs college? I'd sooner go back to kindergarten anyway-I've always considered myself with more of a six year-old's personality anyway.

Long live the finger paints.

Never In My Life

...have I read a book as horribly time-consuming as this.

...has it taken me days to will myself to read.

...have the trials and tribulations of gods and Greek men interested me.

...will I ever read this book again.

Sorry about that, everybody. Just wanted to share the love.

A Jerry Story

Once upon a time, there was a little white house on Adams Street, and in the backyard was a tall oak tree. And way at the top, at the tippy-tippy top of the tallest branch, there lived a little monkey whose name was Jerry. One day Jerry met two little girls who lived in the little white house. They became best friends, and they went everywhere together. But the little girls grew up and soon didn't have time to play with Jerry, and he was very sad.

A few years later, when the little girls had grown up but still lived in the little white house, three new friends came to stay with them as well. There were two girls and one boy, and they began to play with Jerry like the big girls before them. And Jerry was happy again.

But too soon, Jerry saw the little family putting things into boxes and carrying them out to a big truck. And then the family and the truck pulled away. He knew what was happening-his friends had left him forever. But Jerry loved them, and they loved Jerry-even the big girls he thought had forgotten about him. So Jerry followed their car to a little brick house and climbed up another tall tree in their backyard.

The two big girls and the two little girls and one little boy knew as much as Jerry did that they were a family, and they would stay with each other forever.

The End.

Mischief Managed

I solemnly swear that I am up to no good.

My childhood as I once knew it came to an end at midnight on July 15th with the release of Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows: Part 2. It's a little odd to have nothing to wait for all of the sudden-no book releases, no movie premiers, I can no longer count down the days before I get the next freakishly heavy addition to the series in my abnormally small hands. It's like a good friend has died. A good, magical, British, Dark wizard-defeating friend.

I am going to miss Harry Potter so very very much. These books have been a part of my life since kindergarten, when The Management and I cracked open The Sorcerer's Stone for the first time. And I'll admit, on more than one occasion I was scared out of my wits while reading, but over the course of ten years Harry, Ron, Hermione and everyone at Hogwarts have taught me a lot about being a person.

I learned to be comfortable in my own skin

with Luna.

I learned to be brave with Neville.

Seamus taught me that pyromania is a valuable asset.

I learned loyalty from Sirius.

Ron taught me to be a goof.

For that matter, so did Fred and George.

Hagrid showed me how to care for others.

Hermione showed me how to kick butt.

Snape taught me how to love.

Harry taught me how to fly.

And Dumbledore taught me everything else.

From the Sorcerer's Stone to the Deathly Hallows, I have fought, learned, loved, and lived along with Harry. I know that whenever something is wrong I can turn to any page and find comfort. No matter what happens, "help is always given at Hogwarts to those who deserve it." Thanks, Jo Rowling, for teaching me and others to believe in magic.

You're The Only One Who...

Drags me kickin' and screamin' through fast dreams,

Knows exactly what I mean,

Goes antiquing with me,

and pretty much everything else.

I had the fabulous fortune to chill with my dear friend The Stubby One (well, she's not tall and she's not pale-so she has to be stubby) over the weekend. We have been friends for a very long time, but I still can't predict what we'll be doing when I head to her place (aka Home Of The Happy People). One day we'll be watching Steel Magnolias, the next we'll be making something closely resembling coleslaw. This particular day, we went antiquing and had a Cultural Experience.

During the antiquing portion of the afternoon, I learned that there is a used bookshop right next to my favorite seventies clothing store. Said bookshop seems quite small until you cross the threshold and realize that you are in a danker, claustrophobia-inducing Library of Congress on Steroids. Seriously-it never ended. The Stubby One and I actually found ourselves surrounded by stacks of books on multiple occasions. How we got in the middle of them, who knows-all I'm sure of is that it took awhile to work our way out.

Next stop was just across the street, to a real antique store. Like the antique stores of old, it was full of china and small collectibles, smelled of cat urine, and actually had quite a few animals running around. I think the group of ten year-old boys who were forced in by their mother counted six or eight cats. But no matter-what it was lacking in cleanliness it made up for in Cool Stuff.

Then we saw some pictures that took my breath away. The museum downtown is hosting a collection of Pulitzer Prize-winning photographs from 1940 on, and we decided to take a look. Some were beautiful, others terrible, and all of them made you stop and think for at least a few seconds. How some people manage to capture the raw intensity of life so well, I may never know. I can only be eternally grateful to them for it.

So thank you, The Stubby One, for one wonderful day. And I probably forgot to tell you this (like that time when I forgot to tell you...) but I do love you very much. Thank you for being a friend.

Insert Big Sigh Here

Sighworthy few days. Pardon my wallowing.

Packing up the old house.

Sigh.

Lead paint in the new house. 

Sigh.

BFK is leaving for a month.

Big sigh.

I told him to make a cardboard cutout of himself and send that instead.

We'll see.

But for now, I'll just sit on the floor and get in touch with my inner "Frustrated Crazy-Haired Lady"

Can't hold it in forever.

I Don't Quite Know What Just Happened

First I was here...

Then here...

Then here...

And by some extreme miracle, I ended up

 Here

 Here

And here.

Cleaning out the costume room: $0

Hair beading: $20

Three playhouse dresses: $25

One trip down Memory Lane: priceless.

Made it to the Mountains

So when I left off, the Becker Crew had landed safely in Rocky Mountain National Park. We were greeted with this beautiful view:

The next few days weren't exactly as relaxing as the original four's trips were. Instead of being parked by the fire for the day, we were pretty much constantly in motion. The small ones were able to take themselves on mini-hikes around the campsite, and we all got out for a mile or so hike every day. Quite fun.

 Bear Lake: victory pose!

 Tired in the tundra.

Sprague Lake...that was pretty much our only quiet picture.

Feelin' Campy

Don't worry, Mister Man.

I don't quite know what happened, either.

The Becker Family has made a victorious return to The Gateway after a four-day excursion to Rocky Mountain National Park. All clan members have been accounted for, and no one is missing any important body parts. Phew-before we left I was pretty concerned.

And as it happens, so was FG.

Either she was afraid we were never coming back (a completely rational fear, by the way), or she just assumed we were drastically underpacked (which we were), but in any case she came to The Gateway with BFK and New One in tow. Also with them- three small lanterns, Bananagrams, swim diapers, coloring books, the Royal Wedding catalogue, and an Official Playboy Bunny camping chair. The fabulous FG-beautifying the world, thirty glow bracelets at a time.

Anyway, the next day we packed ourselves in the car and headed off-three hours late-for the adventure of a lifetime. Landed in a fancy-schmancy suite in Kearney, and the three young ones were so excited that they didn't sleep until at least 2.

First hotel, and they already hogged the bed. Nice.

The next morning, I woke up with what turned out to be a double ear infection, the cooler emptied itself on the highway, and the twins would NOT fall asleep. But we made it to Rocky Mountain and were out cold in an hour. And so it began. More later!

Well This Is....ummm..."Interesting"

La Croix-
Is it really French? Or just being fancy?

They say you have to try something five separate times before you form an opinion. Well, I've tried this particular grapefruit (aka pamplemousse) drink four times now and I'm not quite sure if I'm liking it any better.

Maybe it'll just become a habit rather than actual enjoyment. Kind of like watching Sister Wives on TLC.

But the thing is, I really want to like it. It's a much healthier alternative to regular soda. Plus I feel fancy with my pretty can of French sparkling water. I also like to say "La Croix" with a French accent and drag it out so I can let it hang in the air after I finish saying it.

Anyway, keep your eyes peeled for other fancy drinks that don't taste quite as un-fancy.

Get your "beverage-huntin'" face on.

Why There Is A Blog In Front Of Your Face

"Why is there a blog in front of my face?" you may ask.

Answer: this woman.

We are adorable. For real.

My Fairy Godmother. The person who, in some way, inspires exactly one half of the things I do. The other half is inspired by The Management, who will soon have a post dedicated to her as well.

FG used to scare the baa-jeezers out of me-I think I was in paralyzing awe of the Hair that I now admire and adore.

She can probably lift up the world. Actually, I think she already has.

Proof that she can do amazing things.

Proof that she loves people.

Proof that her policy of "glitter will fix it" can be very effective.

If we gave FG the Earth, we would all be very happy people. Anybody have a really big bow?

I Done Got Crowned, They Done Got Graduated

Last Thursday was the last of Hogwarts' Exercises in Stamina. These are three hour long Honors Day-type ceremonies that are reserved for the last two days of the school year. They are basically a two day contest to see who can sit through them without falling asleep, fainting, puking, or getting up to go to the bathroom. Kind of like spending a day watching all three Lord of the Rings movies back-to-back.

What my face looked like when I found out what Prize Day was.

But it was good. Lil' Newton got the award for being Super Smart, and Jessicaaaaaa and Glitter Unicorn got the "you are really creative and the whole school thinks you're awesome" award. My friend Reads During Prize Day (nickname definitely not set in stone) got the Big Prize which is voted on by the whole school community. Very exciting. Needless to say I survived and was competent enough to go to the Graduation of My Favorite People. I have to admit, a bit of Eye Water was indeed shed as I sat next to The De-Facto Mongolian Sweetheart, who brought tissues for the occasion. She knows us well. Part of me wanted to get out a bullhorn and Silly String when Trish went up, but the other part of me wanted to close my eyes because I didn't want to believe she was really graduating. But she'll be around.

Rock on, Trisha. Rock on.

There is no doubt in my mind that My Favorite People will do the world so much good. And then they'll come back and tell me about it.