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A very interesting start to what’s bound to be a very interesting new term.

So my first term started last Friday.   First off, let me explain the situation: Exams for third term wre Wednesday and Thursday, we had the first day of the new term Friday, and now we have Spring Break until Monday.  So naturally, half the school skipped on Friday.

I, unfortunately, was not one of those people.

My first hour, choir, didn’t change. Except we got a new song.  And it’s totally strange.  To start, it’s named “Las Amarillas.”  The Yellows? Here are the lyrics.  The song’s originally in Spanish, but this is a translation:

The yellow larks fly from their cactuses
No longer will the cardinals sing happily
na-na-na
and na-na-no

The trees on the hillside, since they haven’t revived
For this the larks sing, or the nest hold them down
na-na-na
and na-na-no

You are little and beautiful, and the way you are, I love you
You look like a little rose from the shores of Guerrero
with your na-na-na
and na-na-no

My father was a sparrowhawk and I was born to peck and peck
Where I place my beak, I’m like a trumpeter
na-na-na
and na-na-no

Everyone has their farewells, but none
is like this one. 

Four times five is twenty,
three times seven is twenty-one.

Yeah, you read that right.  Multiplication!  The last verse is multiplication tables!!  Oh, I don’t understand, either.  And you know how directors sometimes have notes along with the song to tell you how each bit is meant to be sung?

Then He Loves You.

(Repost: from Brandy)

If he always gives you the last bite of his sandwich or the first lick of his ice cream cone, then he loves you.

If he’s seen your high school yearbook photo and says he still loves you, then he loves you.

If he’s counted all your freckles,- even the ones behind your knees, then he loves you.

If, right before sleep, he leans in, buries his nose in your hair and inhales, and when you ask what he’s doing, he smiles a smile that reminds you of a secret and says ‘nothing’, then he loves you.

If he tells you that you make chickenpox sexy, then he loves you. He’s lying, but he loves you.

If he’s laid beside you in a too small bed, in a too dark room and listened as you told him all the ways you feel like you are failing, then he loves you.

If he remembers the name of your arch enemy from the sixth grade and hates her because he knows all about how she started the rumor that you only used boys deodorant, when you didn’t– then he loves you. And he hates her. But he loves you.

If he’s ever attempted to wash your hair because you said that scene in “Out of Africa” really gets you, then he loves you.

If he makes sure that you never have to sit beside his friend Dominic, the one who never washes his hair and smells like the bottom of a dumpster, then he loves you.

If you are Salma Hayek, then he loves you.

Home Coming Dance!

       So I did actually go to my school’s Home Coming dance! The theme this year was “Welcome to the Jungle.”  The class t-shirts have my school’s name printed with different animal prints for each year. There’s snakes, cheetahs, zebras, and giraffes. 

       Did you catch that error? Only one of the four animals depicted on our class t-shirts is correct! Cheetahs, zebras, and giraffes don’t live in a jungle! They live in the savanna! There’s a huge difference.

Savanna:

Jungle:

 

       Yeah, whoever is in leadership should be embarrassed.  Did none of them catch it?  Lol.

       But anyway, the dance was great and I had an awesome dress!  My only complaint is that my hair sucks and doesn’t hold a curl for more than two-ish hours. But I had so much fun.  Way more than freshman year (I didn’t go last year).  

       Ahh… Perhaps I should elaborate.  At that time, things between me and this guy were confusing. He “liked” me and I wasn’t sure if I liked him. My major excuse not to date him was that I am a Christian and he’s not. And I know it’s just high school fun, but I didn’t want to regret anything about my first boyfriend, you know?  Anyway, I spent all day primping and when I got to the dance, when the guy found me, he came up to me, held his hands out to his sides and said “Hey, look! I dressed the part!” NOTHING about me the entire night.  Now, I’m not conceited, I don’t even think I looked that great, but what kind of a clueless idiot doesn’t know to compliment the girl about something when you “go with” them to a dance?

       And he ignored me the entire night and I got swept up in drama, in a way. Because I was the only person who wasn’t involved in drama, so therefore, people all came running to me about their drama. Gr!  I ended up sitting out in the hall quite a bit until my date decided he didn’t want to be alone in front of everybody else for the first slow song, so he came and got me. He didn’t say a word, he just walked out into the hall and held out his hand, assuming I wouldn’t possibly reject him.

       ….I didn’t at the time, but I kinda wish I had. He was a jerk. And the next month to follow, he got even worse.  Ugh, I won’t explain all that here, though.

 

       But this year was so much better! I went with my best friend (other than my sister) and there was no pressure to dance at all, even though we did. Both slow and… regular(?).  It was a blast.

 

 

 

 

Thing to smile about #14:  Going to the Home Coming dance with a friend you’re 110% comfortable with, and know that there’s no pressure about anything.  =]

A Nightmare.

      The girl stepped out of the shack, clad in a long, white nightdress. She stepped onto the cobbleston path leading only to another house. It was dead silent. A large, stone fountain that no longer worked cast a dreadful shadow in the dimly lit path. No stars were out. The only light came from a single, yellowish lamp to the left of the door of the single house ahead of her. The girl didn’t seem to be scared at all, only careful. She was pale – practically colorless – and with light hair that floated down to the middle of her back and pale eyes. When she was near the house, a young man stepped out of the door and put one foot on the porch step. He reached out his hand to help the girl up the stairs and to welcome her.

       From another angle, another woman watched the girl through binoculars. She saw the girl cautiously move down the stone walk. When the young man emerged from the house to greet her, she felt her neck grow hot. She knew this man. Unfortunately for her, all romantic possibilities with him had been torn from her future. She continued to observe the man; he was certainly pleasant to look at – tall, composed, clean shaven, brown hair, dark eyes, also pale. His clothes were simple and near colorless, too. If only the old fountain wasn’t blocking some of her view.

       Everything’s strange, she thought, crouching in the dark above the dreary scene: a path leading from a doorstep of one house directly to another house’s doorstep; there were no side paths branching off of it. What was the point of that? 

       The pale girl smiled gently and took the man’s hand as she floated up the steps, following his lead. He had let go and turned around, no longer welcoming. He went through the door first and reached for something beside the door frame on the inside. The house was peculiar. The first room that you walked into was lined in books on shelves from floor to ceiling. The books were old and dusty. Some were on the floor, bent and lying open. Directly ahead of her, perfectly aligned with the front entrance, was another doorway. This one had no door. She could see through it to another room, also lined entirely with books. Only this one was lit – by candles, maybe. The same yellowish light poured from the room. The doorway was as far to her left on the opposite wall as possible. She could see room after room, all identical, with books and either dark or dimly lit, the doorway in the exact same place on the wall, no doors…