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.