And I owe you these:

Okay, I started off my blog by putting something to smile about at the end of each post.  And a picture, too, actually.  But I’ve gotten behind. Again.  I know, I just caught up, but c’est levie.

Thing to smile about number…

35: Hair cuts! …That actually turn out right.
36: Brandy!
37: Sunshine in Michigan! Finally.
38: Postsecret.
39: Lists.  As has been very obvious today.
40: Obscure movie/tv references. For some reason, yesterday I made a ton of those. I Love Lucy, Chitty Chitty Bang Bang, Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory, Grease, Men In Black, Star Wars, and a couple others, I think. No one recognized any of them.  I’m proud of myself.
41: Feeling prepared for Monday’s AP History test.
42: Danike.
43:  E. E. Cummings!!  Cummings is totally worth postponing my grammar-nazishness for.  He makes a lack of punctuation and grammar an art. 

=D

These might be for you.

My personal notes to a potential suitor:

#1: Music is a huge part of my life. I will introduce you to my favorite artists. And I will be looking for some indication of what you think. If you love it, let me know. If you don’t, tell me why.

#2: Please dance with me. =] Goofily(?) and all other kinds of dancing. Don’t worry, I suck at it, too.

#3: A lack of respect towards me is a deal-breaker. No excuses.

#4: It’d be totally awesome if you would be all about holidays with me. Including National Get Over It Day. (March 9th)

#5: Please let me vent. And, if you disagree with me, please let me finish ranting before you say that you can see the other side. If you make an argument for the opposite side while I’m ranting, it’ll probably just start a fight.

#6: Please, please don’t close off. Especially during an argument. Let’s always talk, okay?

#7: Do not text me 24/7. Everyday? Sure, I’m down with that. But let me get to sleep at a reasonable hour. Let me go to school. And don’t freak if it takes me a little while to respond. I have a life.

#8: Be okay with no PDA. Holding hands is fine, but let’s not ever be attatched at the hip.

#9: Honesty is an absolute must. It’s a core value for me, so I hope it is for you, too. Don’t be the type to just tell me what you think I want to hear.

#10: Yes, I probably would prefer to buy the book as opposed to borrowing it from the library.

#11: Please don’t be one of those people who freak out about their picture being taken. I think you’re cute. And bad pictures happen to even the best of us. A picture is only embarrassing if you choose to be embarrassed by it. And you are not any picture of you. If necessary, and in those situations where you really don’t want your picture taken (I have those, too), please be mature about it and respond by saying something like, “honey, please not today. We’ll get pictures together some other time, okay?” as opposed to freaking out. Or you could suggest a compromise: Let me take a couple pictures in return for letting you pick the next movie we watch or having me pay for dinner sometime.

#12: On that note, if a compromise is to be made, let’s specify at the moment it is being suggested what the conditions are for each party. Don’t hold it over my head that I owe you something.

#13: One word: HYGIENE!

#14: Please don’t ever feed me. It’s so awkward. For me and everyone else.

#15: Drive me places, but I’d like to drive sometimes, too.

#16: I can pretty much guaruntee that I’ll try to imitate the way you talk. I do that. Please find amusement in it and don’t get offended. I don’t do it to mock you; I love linguistics.

#17: Please, no buzz-cuts.  Have hair.

#18: Please be a fellow musician. But if you are, don’t be critical or try to give me lessons unless I ask you for it.

#19: Be a real man – Love God.

#20: I would absolutely love it if you made “your face” jokes with me. =]  And if you remember that I like Chuck Norris jokes.

#21: If you interacct well with kids, I’ll melt.  =]

 

 

 (inspired by this)

Forget it all. F5.

Maybe the reason it seems that almost everybody wants some one else’s hair, or wardrobe, or singing voice, or body, etc. is because we’re bored.  

I wonder what would happen if we could forget about what we look like, about what clothes we have in our closets, forget how our voices sound.  What if we woke up tomorrow, seeing ourselves and what we have in new eyes? Instead of getting up and looking in the mirror and thinking, well, I look the same as I always do, what if we could rediscover how we look?

I don’t think I mean anything like a spritual, existential, find-myself-journey. I mean literally.  I want to forget about myself and see it fresh.  Would we be bored with ourselves, or expecting that we’ll look the same way every day, or take ourselves for granted?

I do not want to forget my life. Not my life, my friends, my past. Just myself. I wonder what would happen if we just forgot all the things we’re not happy with and all the things we notice because we’ve lived with ourselves for all our lives. Erase all that from our memories.

Maybe we wouldn’t even notice a lot of them the second time around.

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.

The best days I’ve had in a long while.

I have had the best last few days.

Thursday night was my choir concert. We were called to show up way earlier than we needed to be there (four-o-clock call and the concert was at seven-thirty), but I was able to get to know the people in my show choir a lot better. Justin said I look like Doris Day, so that’s what he calls me now. =]

The all-girl show choir went before the senior show choir, the one that I’m in.   My group was hanging backstage manically dancing to the other group’s music.  Oh, it was so much fun! Even though I’m in show choir, I’m not one to just… dance.  But back stage, everyone just let loose and I think I might have actually been doing it right.

I will admit, I made more mistakes this concert than usual, but it was still fun.

I had some great people come see me, so that was pretty much amazing. A lot of alumni choir friends came to the concert, too, and that was really great to see them.

Friday night, I had dinner with my family and my sister’s boyfriend. That was pretty cool because I was able to geektalk with my nerdy dad and sister. 

After that was my show choir’s Christmas party.  My hair was great and I had a great outfit.   ;]  Near the end of things, we went caroling.   When we approached a house and rang the doorbell, everyone had a great idea to

So little time! =[

Wow… I hate that I’ve gone so long without updating.

But! But!  I promise you:
Tomorrow(ish?) I’ll post a long one.  It’ll be fun;  It’ll inculde a drinking version of “Christmas Time is Here” from Charlie Brown – along with a list of the amazing songs that my Chorale is doing now, avoid-ation (just go with it) of election talk, a picture of my new haircut, links to Youtube videos that are awesome, other blog reccomendations, and probably some irritated venting about my AP US History class.

 

So don’t give up on me! I’m making up for my abscence ASAP!

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…

Twitter Deprived.

     Because I am not allowed to use my phone during school, I’ve been extremely Twitter deprived. And I came up with a solution, however, I feel pathetic for admitting this. 

     I labeled a page in my notebook “tweets,” and I wrote what I would tweet, had I access to my phone.  I don’t want to upload a billion tweets on Twitter because some of them are long, and there’s waaay too many to do at once.  Plus, they can also be viewed as my copping out and just blogging bullet highlights of my day.  So here goes:

 

– I think it’s amazing that some girls can sit and slouch and still be skinny and have a good figure.

-Great, my old, antique necklace is leaving gross dirt or something on my tank top.

-The girl who drives me CRAZY in my second and third our class got a mullet.

-I feel really dumb. I was just the last one to finish the pop quiz in Intro to Stats. I know I got something wrong. I looked at one I had a difficult time on off of some one else’s sheet (the teacher had stacked the papers together near my desk) and I totally messed up the order of operation.

-Self conscious. 

-Ugh. Chemistry is next.

-Note to self: bring food to eat in 3rd hour, especially Wednesdays, since we don’t have lunch. Heck, I could bring a whole mean and eat it in there.

-I like the name “Gina Lynn,” but I don’t want to use “Lynn” or “Marie” as middle names for my future kids because that’s so common.

-Chemistry is thankfully better than it was yesterday. I like my teacher better today, I actually understand what we’re doing, and it’s… almost enjoyable. My teacher seems much more happy and comfortable actually teaching, as opposed to lecturing and going over rules and such.

– I just lost the game (again).

-I love hot dogs.

-I forgot how beautiful some girls are at public school. Especially in my AP English class.

-Crazy girl asked to borrow my notes. I feel so smart!

-I’m going to prove my chem teacher wrong by getting great grades and sitting in the back.

-Because everyone talked and no one paid attention during Channel One announcements, my AP English teacher made everyone write a one-page (at least), single-spaced “journal entry” on everything they learned from watching Channel One.                                                                     Owned.

-I’m on a “your face” rampage today.

-The first song we learned in Show Choir is “Hakuna Matata.”

-I had  half a year-old chocolate bar for lunch.

-I think we should have late start + abbreviated classes everyday, not just Wednesday.

-“I can’t read the words on this map! The words are too tiny!”
  “Well, I’m sorry the world is too big for your happiness and comfort.

-My water is smarter than your water. 

 

     In show choir, we all played the “ten fingers” game, where everyone puts up ten fingers, and one-by-one, around the circle, everyone says something they’ve never done. If anyone else in the circle has, they put one finger down. The goal is to get everyone else to have no fingers left.   One of the guys got down to negative eleven.

     So, the second day of school ended up really good. Even though I liked my hair better yesterday.  =]

 

Thing to smile about #5:  Driving past places that have their sprinklers going when it’s pouring down rain.

 

 

An Upperclassman Now!

I’m home after the first day of school! I’m back to public school full time. Again. It started off really well because, even though I had to wake up at 5:30, I had a stupid good hair day! Just to clarify, that means my hair looked so good, it was stupid. And I was on the radio while I was doing my make up! I called in and the topic was “what are you looking forward to about school, and what are you dreading about it?”

My answer?  I’m looking forward to utilizing my new wardrobe! But I was dreading the fact that you don’t find out which lunch you have until third hour. I’m always so worried that I’ll go to my third hour class and it’ll be empty and locked. Okay, that’d mean that I have A lunch. So after that, I would go upstairs to lunch. By then, the lines would be horribly long and it’d take forever for me to get food. Then I’d stand on my toes in the cafeteria, looking very much like the first day of school, trying to find some one I know. By the time I do (if I do), I’ll have ten or fifteen minutes left. It’d all be downhill from there. Thankfully, that didn’t happen, but I’ll get to that later.

My mom drove me to school this morning (not for moral support, but to save me the embarrassment of holding a giant poster for AP English for a while at the bus stop and having to carry and protect it around with me through bus conditions, of which I had no idea what to expect). We listened to Life Expectancy by Dean Koontz in the car on the way there.

My first hour is Chorale, which was nice because I’ve been in it for two years now already and it was comfortable to start off with that. Hopefully this year will go by much more smoothly than last year. Before the first concert, (our first actual performance was a funeral because) a boy named Tim, a bass in choir, died. Our Winter concert was moved to a nearby middle school because of a bomb threat at the high school – we learned that they were shutting down the whole building AFTER we had set up the entire bake sale. The next concert was enjoyably interrupted by the fire alarm going haywire in the middle of one of our songs. The last concert was the only one that went as expected.

My choir director is big on making sure we understand rules. This year, my school is actually enforcing the cell phone and dress code policies (now they’re not just taking our phones for the day, they’re keeping them until the next Monday). She went through our handbooks and skimmed over and lectured about different things.

One rule that she pointed out is “pornography or other inappropriate display may not be used to decorate the lockers.” After the initial giggling of the class, a sweet girl named Molly shouted out, “What!?”   Now, Molly is a really sweet girl. She’s adorable and naive and loves Disney, musicals, taking pictures, and the Jonas Brothers.   It. Was. Hilarious. When she reacted like that. Of course, she meant it as, “What? People actually do that?” But it sounded as if she was miffed because they don’t allow lockers to be decorated with porn, and everyone knew how she meant it and how it sounded. Believe me, it was a lot funnier if you were there and especially if you know Molly.