Monday, February 25, 2008

Mine Eyes...or Whatever

Before moving on to the liberating matters, would anyone mind telling me what the fourth chord in the intro of "Love Song" by Sarah Bareilles-whateverhernameis? I don't think my piano has all the keys hers does-everything else sounds right but that.

And I really like comments, whether you read this entry or not. Especially if you rudely vote on my poll and left. It makes me angry.

Now, lets continue...

I love eyes. I have an obsession with them, I believe. I like drawing them and describing them and looking at them. I was smiling with great googoly-mougally giddiness as I was reading The Sea-Wolf by Jack London and came across this whole paragraph:

The eyes—and it was my destiny to know them well—were large and handsome, wide apart as the true artist’s are wide, sheltering under a heavy brow and arched over by thick black eyebrows. The eyes themselves were of that baffling protean gray which is never twice the same; which runs through many shades and colorings like intershot silk in sunshine; which is gray, dark and light, and greenish-gray, and sometimes of the clear azure of the deep sea. They were eyes that masked the soul with a thousand guises and that sometimes opened, at rare moments, and allowed it to rush up as though it were about to fare forth nakedly into the world on some wonderful adventure—eyes that could brood with the hopeless somberness of leaden skies, that could snap and crackle points of fire like those which sparkle from a whirling sword, that could grow chill as an arctic landscape, and yet again, that could warm and soften and be all a-dance with lovelights, intense and masculine, luring and compelling, which as the same time fascinated and dominate women till they surrender in a gladness of joy and relief and sacrifice.

I really love that paragraph (though I never wish to surrender to eyes in sacrifice or anything, thank you very much). I love eyes (have I mentioned?). One particular person I know has these beautiful, stunning, radiant green eyes. I describe these green eyes in a book I am writing, I didn’t base the character off of the person I know, just the eyes. Here’s how I describe them:

Her heart was, for a moment, filled to the top with admiration for the green eyes, though she was not sure why such a thing would stir up a great bout of emotion in anyone. With the fear that she might melt away in the presence of the eyes, which to her were quite the equivalent of a sweet, mourning Celtic melody, she averted her own quickly.

Not as beautifully detailed as Jack London, but there you have it. I also like to draw eyes… I have a couple in my sketchbook. I’m not very visually artistic though, so they’re not too phenomenal or anything. I’m not visual ANYTHING, gosh darn it. I’m (according to my psychology teacher) kinesthetic-auditory. I learn and remember things by doing and listening, preferably at the same time. It’s so very nice to know that…

Anyway, I must run to class…I suppose we’ll watch Act II of A Midsummer Night’s Dream. That should be fun. Hm…watching movies in Literature class…


Saturday, February 23, 2008


No, really this time.

Allison and I are beginning a new blog together. I'll still keep this one up with my own boring entries where I intricately describe scenery or get wishy-washy over not deciding what I'm supposed to do in life, but my more exciting, "From Another Planet" entries will be on this blog, not the one you're reading right now, but the one you go to if you click the link I just so ingeniously created with my super-awesome HTML skills I thought I had completely abandoned.

If you like my boring stuff, feel free to read this blog, too. It's not all that boring. If you think it is, then I suppose YOU are. Hardy-har-har.


Friday, February 22, 2008

Morning at the Lakehouse

Yesterday I went to improv and my aunt picked me up from there to come to Creedmoor, where she lives next door to my grandparents on the lake. It’s so nice up here. I decided to write about it this morning around 9:30ish, I suppose, and so I’ll use that here as my blog for the day:

The line of trees across the lake is nearly shadowed by the old and heartless fog, which, with a mighty fist, has taken over the land. Not a breeze blows-the bare trees are stagnant as they stand tall amongst the thick blanket of mist. The skeletal branches stretch in every odd direction, giving the impression of a demonic presence, an ominous spirit which manipulate and connives the beautiful land, making color fade to gray and summer turn to the dead of winter.

The lake, or what can be seen of it, is low. The drought has taken its toll, dooming all creatures relying on water. One does not realize the danger of the water famine till one looks at a lake which was once full, and sees what has happened to it as the water line recedes.

Though it is the middle of winter, the leaves are still in a deep mass on the ground, damp with rain and the morning dew. I long to venture out of doors and finger them, letting warm, damp leaves, gritty with soil, fall through my fingers. However, I know the leaves are not warm, as they are in early autumn, but instead they are frigid and numbing to the touch.

I long for the pink and purple blooms on the trees that spring brings along with it. I yearn for the deep, shady greens of summer, the hot rays on my back as I plant herbs, water the garden and reap my fragrant harvest—oh, there’s nothing that smells quite as much like summer as warm basil does!

Even autumn beckons for me now—the smell of dead leaves tossed about by the cooling breeze. The weather becomes moderately cool again, and I have the inward desire for an arm around me or an antique chest locked with a heart-shaped key, containing love letters on parchment written in quill pen. Alas, that cannot be so now.

Winter simply does note appeal to me. Perhaps, if it snowed a couple of fee that for a week or so didn’t melt, and we could build snow forts and have snow ball wars and fun things like that, winter would seem worthwhile. The only things that are good about winter, to me, are Christmas (of course), but also warm citrus punch and ginger snaps, warm old-fashioned kitchens and dulcimers playing in the background. But those wintry associations I have not encountered in years, and it makes me wonder why I still make such a connection.

I want to get away. Not away in the context of hate or rebellion, just AWAY. I’m probably not going to college (I don’t see any reason to, except that WTCC doesn’t offer any upper-level music classes, so perhaps I could see if I can take some somewhere that does), so I’d like to do something, to go somewhere as just me, the individual Jessica-on-a-mission-to-do-something-liberating (if you haven’t noticed, that word is like my theme-song word). Even just to move somewhere for 6 months to a year, just to be away and do my “own thing.” A Wolf Park internship or practicum is an option (see sidebar, “favorite links.”). Also, I’d like to work at Gettysburg. I love the grounds there—it’s all so beautiful. When we went there, it had recently rained, and, even though I was much younger, I reveled in the beauty of the green grass and endless forests. I love caves, too. Mammoth Cave, Luray Caverns, anything else. I could give tours, become a cave inspector, or become a spelunker or spelunkist or spelunkerist (Joanna would say, “JESSICA, you got it right the FIRST time!!!”).

It’s so expensive to go to/live in a foreign country, namely Europe. I’d love to live in Stratford upon Avon in England for a while, or south Ireland or Scotland somewhere, or I could live in the Italian countryside and have a vineyard and learn music there, except I keep hearing and reading that the real estate market in Italy is atrocious.

Some of your know of my past obsession with Australia, and, really, I still like it there…perhaps I could get a job at the Australian Zoo, which always looks really cool on Animal Planet. Steve Irwin (*sniffle* I haven’t gotten over the sting-ray thing yet) worked there. I think that’s how he met his wife. If I take BIO 110 at WTCC, then I can take Zoology. It’s not a degree, but at least I’d have a little background info. And if I lived in Australia, I wouldn’t have to celebrate Australia Day all by myself anymore!

Well, I cannot go anywhere right now. I’m overwhelmed with scholastic obligations, I have zero mullah, and my grandparent’s cat, after an unasked for happy-pawing of my Seahawks sweatshirt, is asleep on my lap. I don’t really want to wake her up, because I’m cold and she’s warm.

I need a job. I’d like to work at a pet store or at a vet or at a music store or a book store. Marck was saying to me yesterday that if I worked at Pet Pad, I’d get my paycheck and go spend it all at Bert’s Music a couple doors down, and if I worked at Bert’s Music, then I’d get my paycheck and spend it all at Pet Pad. *sigh*. And by the way, if anyone can find the sheet music to “Love of My Life” by Queen, and bought it for me, I would love you forever (I guess), because I can play the intro and some of the bridge by ear, but the singer’s voice kind of presides over the piano in the rest of the song, and I can’t really hear what he’s playing. While you’re at it, can you please pay for a new piano for me (Steinway, if you can afford it)? It’s really hard to play piano on our piano, if you know what I mean.

Anyway, good bye!

Wednesday, February 20, 2008

Cambridge University Now Has a Remote Campus in Parlez Vous, Mexico

Okay…so, allow me to tell you what is going on in my life (as if you cared deeply about such things) in these following shortish sentences:

Read act one, scene one of A Midsummer Night’s Dream. Got a filling for a “little pit” (NOT a bloody cavity!!! Well…). Swore never to go to the dentist again, as this was my second experience with sanding going on inside my mouth (the first time I chipped my front tooth on the bunk bed railing). Mom said that I couldn’t swear to never go again, even though my next appointment isn’t until I am a legal adult. Darn it. Started to read The Sea Wolf by Jack London and I like it so far. Trying to teach myself how to read music; can’t seem to find any sheet music around here for songs I already know in my head. Went to swim practice and Matt and Kara weren’t there so I had to lead all by myself AGAIN and it made me so very mad (however, I forgive them, as their absence was not their faults). I cut my bangs a little different this time, and I think I like it, but I have to take careful precautions when doing my hair so that they do not curl up all weird. Getting faster at texting, which is most unfortunate because I’d rather remain old-fashioned, but becoming new-fashioned is nearly unavoidable these days in most areas. Wanted to post a blog about something more interesting than the last blog, but had no inspiration left inside of me, after having people drilling in my mouth and having to write that stupid paper.

*big sigh*

Tee-hee. My brother just came in and handed me a “fun size” Snickers bar. I guess I should say *snicker* *snicker*, not tee-hee. Oh, wellest. You know, I do wonder, why do they call it fun size, when it’s really a lot more fun when it’s KING SIZE?? It maketh no senseth to moi. And now the little morsel of chocolatey-peanuty-carmaley goodness is *gasp* gone. *sniffle* *sniffle*.

Today is the year of the asterisk, in case anyone was wondering. And, yes, a day can be a whole year. Broaden your horizons, people! No, I am not mental!

I suppose it wouldn’t be too far out of my way for me to answer some questions posed to me in the Comments of Post’s Past. Such as, why hasn’t Nicholas merited a position in my Kingdom/everything else of Platinum lane? Well, first of all, he said he spent a whole “half a day” practicing with us! That is false. He spent half a set swimming very easy 25s, and complaining about the diving the whole time. On top of that, Platinum team did not exist then. We were simply the “advanced silver team” peoples, or sometimes referred to as the “Silver-Gold” team, by Kara and me. That is the reason why Nicholas is not part of my kingdom, aside from my being a cold, heartless, callous creature who would certainly never give anyone I’ve known for so long that I’m about to throw up my hands in utter dejected renouncement, a position in any sort of land—or long, skinny body of water—that I may ever rule.

Well, I suppose I have thoroughly exhausted my readers in this rather “Lords of the blog”-esque entry (by that, I mean it’s a bunch of nonsensical rambling about things most people cannot mentally comprehend), and I should sign off till Friday or Saturday or whenever I have time to write. Right now I must go to English 113 and talk about Shakespeare, and possibly finish watching Much Ado About Nothing.

I bid thee ado!
I mean, adieu!
Or achoo
Me and you
I had the flu
When I ate moo-shu
Trains go choo-choo
And the cow goes moo
Trains also say whoo-whoo
I am so blue
When I wear my shoe
And you come along too
I’ll take my cue
And I’ll drink Mountain Dew
I won’t say, “ew!”
‘Cause there’s so very few
Babies say “goo”
And birdies say “coo-coo”
Cats say “mew”
I’ll listen to the Who
Paint with a different hue
I’m a Christian, not a Jew
I’ll go drink l’eau (or is that “lo?”)
See the world anew
Sit in a church pew
I knew a guy named Rue
He dated a girl named Sue
They were into voodoo
Did it on the giraffes at the zoo
And up away I flew…

“I’m sorry, Jessica, ‘flew’ is a homonym of ‘flu,’ which makes it a repetition! So Jessica is, *clap* *clap* OUTTA THERE!!”

In that case, I should have gotten called out for saying ado and adieu.


Monday, February 18, 2008

Purple Azaleas (SP???) Are Taking Over the Planet!!!

Happy half-birthday to me!!!

Well, I am not sure what to write. You see, I suppose that I felt a little awkward posting some of my poetry on here. I guess it felt emotionally “immodest” or something. I mean, fortunately nobody seemed to notice that it was conveying incredibly deep feelings, so deep that it wasn’t even that good of a poem in and of itself. I just feel a little exposed right now.

It was alright, I mean, that I did it. No one really cares what the difference is—whether I bare my soul or not. I imagine that at least a couple people liked it well enough to say they did, and I’m happy to know that those people I have known for a very long time and so I don’t mind them knowing the secrets of the deep, dark corners of my mind. But I still feel exposed.

I guess I am trying to say is that I think I’ll be a little more careful about not pulling what Elizabeth Elliot calls an “emotional striptease.” It wasn’t intentional-honest. And I will probably still post some poetry up here every once and a while, or maybe start a weekly poetry spot or something. That is, if I feel the poems are “right”. I don’t want to get used to telling the whole world how I feel. Most of my thoughts and feelings I plan to reserve for God and my husband. I don’t want either of them to feel betrayed by my rash actions in the area of blogging. It’s very easy to speak from the bottom of my heart here—there are plenty of things I can say on an instant on paper that I could never say to someone’s face. As a matter of fact, I’ll rarely say anything personal to anyone.

A note to all my wonderful friends who read my blog (well, all seven or so of you anyways): Please read with discretion, and I beg you to please tell me if you think I am saying too much. I know I have a weakness in wanting so desperately to have someone to confide every thought to, and I really don’t want to give in on here, even though it’s incredibly easy to. I need to draw the line between journal writing and blogging—they are certainly not the same thing!

Now, on to lighter subject matters:

Uh…I can’t seem to think of any. I’m in the middle of a writer’s block as a result of my having to work on my bloody English paper last night instead of watching Madagascar with the rest of my family. It was most tragic. I’ve been begging for months to watch it again. If you will please refer yourself to my profile, it is listed as one of my favorite movies. I love it. Before I even watched it I loved it. You hate it compared to how much I love it! Tee-hee. But then my family “denied me and betrayed me” and decided to watch it last night, of all nights, after I begged and pleaded that they watch something else, and even listed several titles out of our humble collection of movies that I would not mind them watching without me, but they were stubborn and refused. Perhaps my dad wanted to because it’s the only widescreened movie that takes up the whole screen of our new (not-so-humble) television.

So, sorry, no happy thoughts available. Try again later.

Yours most ever the truest and bluest (because blue walls encourage productivity),

Friday, February 15, 2008

Lines of Verse

Henceforth, Fridays will be devoted to me posting my complicated ramlbings of poetry that I have written in the past during complicated seasons of my life. If you're one of "those people" who find my writing a little incomprehensible, you may tell me so, but I'll probably tell you that nothing comprehensible develops itself on the page when one is very moody and possibly in the depths of despair. Don't worry--I write happy poems too (well...sometimes...), but happiness isn't as inspiring as anger and frustration. Does Bethoven's fifth sound happy to you? No. He was probably banging his fists upon the table in a fit of rage, and thought the banging it had a nice rhythm to it. So may it be forever and always.

"Undefined" by Jessica Claire Barker

Evidence shrouds the
Whispers of shadows
The quiet is loud in my ears
Do you hear something?

My heart beats till
It’s broken in two
Hollowed and empty
All of this for you?

Change walks in my direction
Flames lick the trees that never return
The strident blue waves roar
Above the winds of destiny

My vision is bland; help me along
I wince as the tumultuous fires engulf me
A wall leaned against unstable beams
I catch a rhyme in my hand
A love undeserved

Heavy tears drip on my cold face
Freezing as the shadow hits me
An army rages inside my head
Flower petals a strew
Love is too complicated

Water runs down my arm
Down my finger
Drips on the water
Stirs in the moonlight
I see your eyes glimmer
Out of the corner of my own

Foggy tears eat at my passion for you
Passion seeping from a blatant spirit
Undeserving of a love such as yours
Of which there is none to give

Composed conversation emerges from my mouth
Never hinting at the blood dripping from my heart
Which still beats with love for you
Bleeding ever more with each void pulse

I cannot fix my heart
I go limp
I drown in the ocean of my own soul
Rescue me please
Let me show you how I love you


Wednesday, February 13, 2008

Changes to Platinum Team and Elsewhere...

Gee. First our water wasn’t working. Then our washer broke. Then we got natural gas, and our stove has to be re-programmed or whatever you do to stoves. We thought the worst was over, until our TV decided to act up. So now we have to go and buy another TV. At least my dad is happy about that.

Before I say anything else, it is my greatest desire of the moment that I say something about my new chosen occupation. I am now a counselor. A therapist kind of counselor. Who do I counsel? Well, I first had to start with myself, because I had the most overwhelmingly horrible burden placed upon myself, by myself (which makes it even worse). You see, I was talking to myself about something to do with chocolate, and…it was most traumatizing. I didn’t say chocolate like I normally say it: Chock-uhl-uht, I said it like: Chack-al-at. Oh, it was terrible! So, I asked myself, “What, are you from Wisconsin or something?” And myself timidly replied, gulping, “n-no…”. I was devastated for being asked this. But then I consoled myself by saying, “Don’t worry, everyone’s been accused of being from Wisconsin at least once in their lives,” and then began a regular old counseling session with myself, implementing various strategies and ideas from my Psychology class last semester. After this, I felt much better, and decided that it might be a good deed to provide this sort of service for the rest of the world. After all, who isn’t upset when accused of being from Wisconsin? People from Wisconsin? No, because it is not a false accusation. However, the rest of the world surely needs consoling and proper direction, so I have started a clinic specifically for that purpose. I will be holding sessions in my living room until I can secure a more neutral and industrial location. Call ahead; no walk-ins, please.

Now, on to better items.

It seems as though this world is coming to an end, am I right? I don’t know, I just really felt like saying that. Henceforth, I now shall post a post about something I posted on another post which was, coincidentally, about posting, though the post I posted on the posting post had nothing to do with the post that was posted about posting. Am I clear?

So…platinum lane. Last Thursday, Coach was feeling rather under the weather (an understatement on my part), and forgot that silver team had another half hour before they were adjourned. Nonetheless, he let them go, and then walked over to platinum lane and stared at Nathan, Noah and I blankly. We asked him something along the lines of wondering why he was giving the silver team such a break. It then dawned on Coach what he had done, but he waved it off. To make a longwinded explanation somewhat short-winded, he said platinum could either get out themselves, or stay in and give ourselves sets. Mr. Hargett was going to stay and coach the blue team, but Coach apparently wished to leave. This began a dispute among the three remaining platinum lane swimmers of WHO was in charge. I thought I should be, because I was (at that great moment in history) the fastest in the lane. However, there was a big dispute between 50’s and too much compromising on my part. Never the less, here’s how it went down, for those of you who weren’t there (and no, Matt…I didn’t get rid of Nathan yet, and you’ll see why in a sec):

Platinum lane has now been declared a Democracy/Monarchy/Socialist Republic/Dictatorship.


Those present at the designation ceremony:

Jessica (aka me): President (ha), Prime Minister, Czar, Dictator, Emporer

Nathan: King, General of Nuclear Warfare (now you understand why I can’t banish him at this time)

Noah: Peasant, Air Force, Navy (I’m not sure how he could be all three…some sort of strange transition happened when Nathan and I put him in the dungeon for a fortnight)

Those not present:

Kara: Executioner/right hand woman

Sean/Shaun/Shawn/Howeveryouspellyourbrother’sname: Scribe (since he’s so quiet all the time, might as well give him something to do)

Matt: Minstrel (no elaboration necessary)

Alex, Nathan & Laura: Citizens (but not peasants), (until they come back and designate positions for themselves)

Lizzie: Planner of various events

Sarah: Photographer/artist

Joel: Jester

David: The One Who Keeps Those Who Are Bored Busy By Asking Them Random Questions

We plan to soon kidnap everyone on the whole swim team, build up our ranks and then take over all other area swim teams with our mighty powers…or something like that. We could just take the whole swim team to an island somewhere to escape being ruled by Hilary Clinton. At that time I may decide to step down to be replaced by a male ruler (of my choice), since it would be contradicting to escape a woman president in order to still be ruled by one…even if I’m not a democrat.

So long and thanks for all the fish!


Monday, February 11, 2008

The Monday Update, First Edition

Currently Reading:

Fiction: “The Turn of the Screw” by Henry James. I have been thinking all this time that the read of the story has been hard to follow, but I do believe at least half of the problem is that every time I’ve sat down to read it, I end up doing it in a common room of the house or in the car, which is just as common as anywhere else. I’ve barely had any peace and quiet since I’ve started it. Other reasons include it being hard to switch from Dickens to James, regardless if they were from about the same generation and the same area of the world. James writes well enough from a woman’s perspective. However, his particular character that is his main character is a little annoying in that she jumps to conclusions far too quickly and without much evidence. However, I know her conclusions are what is actually going on, only because James would only have her relay these things to the reader if they added to the formulation of the whole story of the ghosts and things like that. But it’s kind of annoying, because the reader (me) doesn’t get to figure anything out for herself (myself). She (I) just have to sit by and read the conclusions which the main character comes up with. Understand what I mean? And, if any one of you out there has ever read this story or anything else by Henry James (this is my first time reading anything of his), please feel free to express your opinion on his writing.
How-To: GRRR. A book about dealing with dog aggression issues, which our family has recently had problems with because we’ve been to busy to remind Nancy what is right and wrong.
Godish Book: Quest for Love by Elizabeth Elliot. It is helping my whole outlook on guys and dating stuff, as did Passion and Purity.

Various and Sundry Media:

Movie(s) recently watched: Nicholas Nickleby, and a tiny bit of the fourth Harry Potter movie.
Favorite Song of Late: “Roundabout” by Yes
Song I would recommend for myself in regards to my current mood if I were a Music Therapist: “Take Me to the Other Side” (or whatever it’s called) by Aerosmith. Or any hard rock by Aerosmith, or Motley Crue. I’ve been in a slump since Thursday, I think, and only hard rock gets me out of slumps.

Life in General:

Best or Most Astounding thing that Happened Last Week: Allison knows…tee-hee. Anything else? Well, I declared myself ruler over Platinum Lane, and everyone else shall now do my bidding.
Random Bible Verse of Great Meaning: “And unmarried woman or virgin is concerned about the Lord’s affairs: Her air is o be devoted to the Lord in both body and spirit. But a married woman is concerned about the affairs of this world-how she can please her husband.” 1 Corinthians 7:34. I’m just going to go ahead and take it that Paul means that married women can continue to worship God. He just probably means to say that before marriage, women should be devoted to Christ alone, and not to some other guy some where, and after marriage, wives can devote themselves to their husbands (not before) in a way that honors God. Again, any thoughts on this would be greatly appreciated
Meal of the Week: Well, I’ve just been pigging out on chocolate (oh joy) for the past interval-after-the-meet-and-even-before-that-(whoops), so I’d have to say that my meal of the week is a chocolate souffl√© with a chocolate shavings salad topped with chocolate syrup dressing, with brownies on the side and chocolate cake-bread. Oh, and for dessert I’ll take a chocolate √©clair.
What I am inspired to do now: Hibernate. Please.


Saturday, February 9, 2008

Those Pass-Along Fill-Out Things...

So I originally intended to post the first edition of my "On Writing" series (which really makes me sound serious, doesn't it?), on description. But, you see, I happened upon those little fill-out things that you find on people's blogs when they don't know what else to post. While no one really cares to read what I say on them (why would they?) I will now post a couple and get it over with. Well, after this word about fortune cookies, anyway:

I got a fortune cookie the other day. Well, I found it in the van. I don't know how long it had been there, but it was unopened, so I decided to eat it. So I opened it and...well, the fortune read like this:

"Here we go: Moo-shu cereal for breakfast with duck sauce."
So, I was just slightly confused. A teeny-tiny bit. I mean, most fortunes are something like:
"Freed from desire, you can see the hidden mystery."
But this moo-shu cereal ordeal is the most preposterous...well, anyway. On to better and more enlightening things!
1. Open your library (iTunes, Winamp, Media Player, iPod, etc)
2. Put it on shuffle
3. Press play
4. For every question, type the song that's playing
5. When you go to a new question, press the next button
6. Don't lie and try to pretend you're cool - first songs only
Opening Credits- Hey Jude- The Beatles
Waking Up - Killer Queen- Queen
First Day of School - I'll Stay With You - Goo Goo Dolls
Falling in Love - Pride (in the name of love) - U2
Fight Song - Help - The Beatles
Breaking Up - Charlie- Red Hot Chili Peppers
Prom - You Really Got Me -Van Halen
Life's Ok - That's All - Genesis
Mental Breakdown - I'll Sue Ya - Weird Al
Driving - Could it be Forever - Partridge Family
Flashback - Strawberry Fields Forever - the Beatles (AGAIN!!!)
Getting Back Together - Tell Me Baby - Red Hot Chili Peppers
Wedding - Storm in a Teacup - Red Hot Chili Peppers
The Night Before the War - What is and What Should Never Be- Led Zeppelin
Final Battle - I Want You Back Where You Belong -.38 Special
Moment of Triumph - Magic Carpet Ride - Steppenwolf
Death Scene - Hold Me, Thrill Me, Kiss Me, Kill Me - U2
Funeral Song - The Saints are Coming - Green Day and U2
End Credits - Love Isn't Always On Time - Toto

1. What is your occupation at work? I work for my dad some, and babysit you understand why I'm always complaining about not having money
2. What color are your socks right now? White, gray and blue, but in a minute they will magically transform into purple, indigo and turquiose.
3. What are you listening to right now? "Freebird" by Lynyrd Skynyrd
4. What was the last thing that you ate? String cheese
5. Can you drive a stick shift? I tried and failed miserably, but it was a really strange car...
6. If you were a crayon, what color would you be? Either red violet or violet red, and seeing as I can't decide, I think I'd be green, to keep it simple.
7. Last person you spoke to on the phone? My Bible study leader
8. Do you like the person who sent this to you? I like Sarah if that's what you mean
9. How old are you today? 9 days away from being 17 1/2
10. Favorite drink? Vault...sorry, it has officially replaced Mountain Dew
11. What is your favorite sport to watch? I guess basketball, but I normally only watch football on TV
12. Have you ever dyed your hair? Yeah, with henna, and no one could tell
13. Any pets? Nancy my Jack Russel/Mountain Fiest and Luke Skyhopper Slashrat Othello Amadeus Loray, my chinchilla
14. What was the last movie you watched? Nicholas Nickleby!!
15. Favorite day of the year? Leap Day. So all the other years are pretty boring
16. What do you do to vent anger? Play heavy metal really loud or run or play guitar
17. What was your favorite toy as a child? Baby bear and my cooker set stuff
18. What is your favorite season? Summer, 100% and 100 degrees
19. Hugs or kisses? You can't mess up on a hug, and you can't kiss everyone you love
20. Cherries or Blueberry? Blueberries
21. Do you want your friends to email you back? They do, in time
22. Who is most likely to respond? I suppose nobody, because I don't usually e-mail people who send stuff like this out
23. Who is least likely to respond? In the case of the previous answer, everyone I regularly e-mail
25. When was the last time you cried? a couple of days ago
26. Who is the friend you have had the longest and sending this to? I'm not sending this to anybody, but on Blogger I have known Allison and Nicholas the longest, with the Hargetts being close runners-up
27. What did you do last night? Ate pizza, watched a movie, did math, went to bed
28. Favorite smells? Chlorine, gardenias, raw beef, the beach
29. What inspires you? Music, movies, books, dreams, pictures, the morning
30. What are you afraid of? Being mistaken for someone I'm not
31. Plain, cheese or spicy hamburgers?! Niether. I prefer hickory smokes with everything except cheese and spice
32. Favorite dog breeds? Akitas, Alaskan Malamutes, Boxers, Rottweilers, Huskies, American Staffordshire Terriers, Fox Terriers (smooth coated), Jack Russels, Staffordshire Bulls, Finnish Spitzes, Shiba Inus, and Border Collies
33. What would you have for your last meal? I went to Applebees and had shrimp fettucinne alfredo
34. Favorite day of the week? Thursday (swim and improv!)
35. How many states have you lived in? Uno, my friend, and in the same house, too
36. Favorite holiday? Any holiday involving food
37. Ever driven a Motorcycle or heavy machinery? I've ridden a motorcycle, and driven a lawn mower like Sarah said...
38. Your favorite NFL team? Panthers and the Colts
39. Do you have a house phone that is NOT cordless? We have 1 cordless and two with cords
40. 10 inches of snow or 100 degree weather? 100 degree weather, at all costs, sil vous plais.
So, there you go. Now you know enough about me to be my twin. Good for you! If I ever have an opening for a Twin position, I'll get an application to you if you're interested.
Bye for now!

Friday, February 8, 2008

My Hero!

It's another lovely early morning in Music 110 at Wake Tech. The sleepy students all moan and groan in their uncomfortable seating as the florescent light in the far right corner in the back of the room flickers occasionally, disturbing any hope of Jessica paying attention to what is being said. Thankfully, role call has just ended. Jessica wonders why her next-door-neighbor Scotty, who left before her, hasn't arrived yet. The air conditioner buzzes on, and Professor Honeycutt rumages madly around in his special Cabinet for the Holding of Various Items.

"Oh, no," Professor Honeycutt grunts. "I do believe someone has stolen our whiteboard markers!"

"Oh my, whatever shall we do?" some students cry out in panic.

Before they had finished their exclaimations of despair and complete loss of hope, Professor Honeycutt rips off his blouse and slacks. There stands the most glorious Super Honeycutt in front of the class; Jessica's eyes well up with emotion, her heart full of gratitude and admiration. Super Honecutt, in his dark brown spandex uniform and light brown cape, starts valiantly for the door.
"I'll be back!" he calls out to his students as they look on in awe. "Away, away!" After pausing for dramatic emphasis, Super Honeycutt dashes out the door, jingling his keys to his office in his hands. Super Honeycutt has gone to save the day again!

Can he recover the missing whiteboard markers? A few moments later he returns--with a single black marker. The students wait in anticipation--will the marker work? There's a high probability it may be dried out. Oh, how horrible that would be! Surely no one--especially Jessica--will ever understand musical notation without the use of visual aid!

With a soft squeak, Super Honeycutt tests the marker on the white board. It works!

The class applauds whole-heartedly, despite their grogginess, Scotty comes in late, thinking the applause is for him, and Jessica writes down in her notebook: "Super Honeycutt has averted a world crisis once again!"

Wednesday, February 6, 2008

80 Degrees!

A few moments ago, I was outside in the front yard on my picnic blanket. I ate some ice cream and I was trying to finish Under the Tuscan Sun (it's hard when it's windy and you're worrying about your hair blowing into your ice cream and them up into your face and getting everything all sticky). It is 80 degrees outside, and very windy, but for warm weather, I'll take it. It hasn't started raining yet, but here are storm clouds settling around, so, unfortunately, this will not last.

Frances Mayes writes such beautiful descriptions. I'm jealous. I'm afraid my writing talent does not lie in describing things, but that does not mean I cannot appreciate them. In her "Relics of Summer chapter in the book I meantioned I was reading, Frances Mayes has a couple particularly interesting descriptions. "Clearly we are in someone's head," she writes, "midnight imaginings of the descent, the fall, the upward turn." She is describing being in a cathedral, but I like how she points out how the pictures were painted, and how good the artist was. I also like on the next page-she describes Montepulciano as "that town whose syllables sound like pluck strings on the cello." nothing really significant altogether, but standing alone, I think her descriptions and analogies are constructed in a most lovely fashion.

Typically I get lost in description. According to my psychology professor last semster, my personality type (INTP on the Meyers-Briggs test-thing) tends to miss details. I suppose that's why I don't write them-I don't take the time to see the world as anything more than just a big picture. My stories are usually filled with two things. Dialogue, and many ramblings of musings (either of myself or myself through the characters). Anything non-fiction I write is either more musing and thinking or just plain weirdness that comes from who knows where.

I'm a little annoyed right now. I thought that it was clear to everyone I love that I am not going to go to college, and that they knew the many, many reasons why I have made that choice. But today I've found that some people just don't understand. It's very frustrating, and getting my mood down a lot. I am not going to college. Can't they just accept that? It's not where I belong; it's not where I am supposed to be. I know where I am supposed to be. I'm supposed to be here, learning on my own time, and preparing myself to be a wife and mother.

Anyway, I've got to go assist with grocery unloading. TTYL!


Monday, February 4, 2008

The Top 50 "Stupidest" Personality Types

The other day I was thinking. Well, I mean, I do that a lot…I guess everyone does from time to time. Well, most everyone.

You see, as a matter-of-fact, I was thinking about why tabloids are always doing features like “Top 50 Hottest Celebrities”, as if I really cared. And then I thought, well, why don’t they devote a whole issue to the “Top 50 Stupidest People in the World” or something. That would really grab my attention.

I mentioned this idea to my dad and he suggested I should do it myself. After all, it would be good practice if I really did decide to become a journalist or something. But then it came to mind that, as much fun as I make of people, I really don’t want to outright offend anyone. So I’m going to go a slightly different path:



Seriously, this bugs me quite badly. They’re just people that are somehow more artistically talented than you (more or less) and so somehow they are your roll model and forever and ever you shall worship the very ground they walk on, should you ever take a stroll down Hollywood Boulevard or Rodeo Drive. Ugh.

One night my dad, my brother and I were behind this car carrying two college-age girls. At every stop light they would pull down their visors and would thus beautify themselves. We would have to honk at them to tell them when the light was green each time. Once they started moving, they would not put the visors back up at first, and would weave all around the road, one time going as far as to run another car off. This happened at about three or four lights. By that time I decided that I would write a whole movie about them. But that’s another story.

I don’t know what it is with these people. They love pre-arranged activities and always ridicule people that would rather spend their time being creative. They’re conformists because they can’t think for themselves. Which brings me to number…

They’re obsessed with being popular and with what everyone else thinks. If they’re girls, all they talk about is makeup, Abercrombie, boys and “o-mi-gosh-did-you-see-Dee-with-Josh???” If they’re guys, I don’t know much but I do know a square guy when I see him and he’s immediately written off my list of guys I want to marry.

What ever happened to thinking on the bright side? My dad calls these people, “Battery Drainers”, because they drain you of all energy. If they aren’t negative about themselves, they’re negative about you. I used to be one of these people and I drove myself crazy. “Oh, I guess I’m not very pretty.” “You should stop shopping at Target and start shopping at Macy’s.”

They’re fine people except at theme parks and at the State Fair. No fun at all. Can’t do anything with them except sit at the Pig races and eat too much food. Not that bad, if you think about it, but bad enough to make it onto this list. Seriously, what’s the point of going to these places if you’re not going to ride the biggest, tallest, scariest ride ever? And that girl should have had her feet fastened on better.

Just a little self-esteem “booster”, eh? No, we don’t need you rubbing it in that you’re skinny, 5’ 2” and blonde. We certainly don’t need you showing off how much faster you are at swimming than the rest of us. No need to brag about all the stuff you can buy thanks to your dad’s immense fortune or how many R-rated movies you’ve been allowed to watch. Well…well…I’m taller, I have more potential, I’m more prepared for the future and…I don’t have a dirty mind! Yeah!!

Sorry, Nathan and Noah, but it is kind of annoying and gross.

I’m always embarrassed when I’m with these people. I don’t have an overactive bladder, but I’m not attempting to get into the Guinness Book of World Records for longest period of water retention either. There are certain times when I want to go to the bathroom (right before a movie, right before a long, difficult swimming set, in the middle of a boring, droning speech, right after eating, eventually on a 13-hour car trip) and I like it when someone else will say, “you need to go to the bathroom?” I don’t like to ask. Maybe it’s me.

DUH!!! There’s a reason. I know people that will complain about how fat they look in whatever it may be, and then not even an hour later I’ll see them getting 3 bags of Fritos, a package of Starburst and some Reeces Pieces out of a vending machine and eating them all right then. For dinner. I lecture them and they ignore me. Bothersome elephants anyway.

It’s not music. Not singing, not playing an instrument. Just talking in a rhythm about anything offensive to some annoying beat created by a computer. I don’t like country much either, but at LEAST it takes talent. And just for anyone’s general knowledge, 50 Cent does not write deep lyrics.

Now, I love these people to death on most occasions. They’re quite in the same league as the people that hate roller coasters. It’s annoying when they can’t even remember a heated debate you held with them yesterday. Or you run into them two days after a weeklong camp where you encountered them every day so of COURSE they should recognize you, right? I used to say hi to the latter people…now I just wander aimlessly about pretending that I don’t recognize them either. Like Phil Collins says, “I’ve seen your face before, my friend, but I don’t know if you know who I am…”

You know what I love? I love hanging around my improv friends. Why? Because I feel secure around them, because I know that whatever problems arise, they will be fixed in a matter of seconds. I rest assured that no matter what comes our way, it will be resolved, and quickly. But I can’t stand to be around people who are the opposite. If an issue comes up, they will take days, weeks, months, years, decades, centuries, millennia…how ever long they know they can take to make a decision. In the mean time they will analyze EVERYTHING and run it all through their head, seemingly stopping on one possibility but then immediately switching to something that sounds better. Oh, how I love improvers.

I’d have to admit that I’m one of these people. I, myself, am quite guilty of coming into whichever room may house a TV with my guitar, mandolin, or recorder, or my brother’s bass or just simply sit down at the piano and begin to play whatever comes to mind at that moment. It’s fine when I do it—I’m quite capable of doing two things at once. However, when someone else does it, my tolerance wears thin. I’ve been told a million times that if I dish it out I should be able to take it. So I’m working on that. Unintentional but probable outcome—I’ll end up marrying someone who does the same thing.

Not guilty!!! However, certain siblings of mine are quite the opposite.

I know I already covered negative people, but this just goes to show you I can’t stand anyone of the sort. If I decide I want to do something, don’t tell me I can’t, just simply because it seems humanly impossible to you. Ugh-ness-icity.

The reason I don’t really like American Idol is because every time I watch it, I begin to have a bad attitude about how stupid all the wannabes are. I just can’t stand people who do something that they’re not good at in front of everyone, and then get mad when someone tells them they stink.

What’s the point of a pool membership if you simply lay out all day and only get into the pool to cool off for two seconds? Dark skin? Ugh. Don’t get me started on this one. Tanning is so incredibly shallow to me (especially when done without doing anything useful like reading Charles Dickens or something)…I could go on for days about how stupid it is.

Well, it seems as if I’ve run out for now. *sigh* If anyone else has any suggestions, feel free to tell me. I’ve got to go now, though. Bye!


Saturday, February 2, 2008


Right now I am listening to The Firebird. It’s very nice.

Hey there Delilah, what’s it like in New York City? I love that song…*sniffle*

I believe I was taught a lesson about time yesterday. You see, I tend (just a little) to be a very impatient person. Everything has to be done NOW, and if it’s not, then the world will fall apart and we’ll all die away. Fortunately, my predictions are quite far off. Very. Extremely.

So, yesterday was Friday the first of February, or Groundhog’s Eve. I couldn’t believe Wake Tech didn’t give us a holiday, since Groundhog’s Eve is such an important holiday, especially in preparation for Groundhog’s Day. I was planning to take the morning off to decorate, but for some reason Professor Honeycutt (or “Super Honeycutt” as I like to call him [he doesn’t know that]) decided that it was necessary that Music 110 be held.

I woke up very achy, with muscle aches and stomach aches and a head ache, and was considering staying home. But I had to get up anyway, and by the time I was seriously considering skipping class, I had my bag in my hand and the car was running. Nonetheless I downed some superfood and some homeopathic remedy for whatever I had, and managed to survive.

I came back, did some math, attempted to take a nap, and finally gave up on that prospect and instead made and ate lunch. While doing the eating part of the lunch activity, I read the first chapter in Quest for Love by Elizabeth Elliot. Thursday I had just finished Passion and Purity, and this seemed like it was a follow-up sort of book, so I decided to read it next. The first chapter was about a guy who wanted to get married when he was 21, and began searching for a wife the, but didn’t end up marrying till he was 33 to a woman 12 years younger than he was. Basically, he said God’s time wasn’t his time, because he couldn’t have married whom God wanted him to marry when he wanted to marry-when he was 21, his wife was only 9!

After lunch, I had to go to TAC to get picked up to go to a swim meet in Winston-Salem. This is where I gradually learned my own lesson about time. We were short about 12 million swimmers. Well, not really that much. However, all in all we had a little over 20 swimmers, I think. Some were sick, others were busy, and others couldn’t get rides. Why? Why now? And some of these people I was really looking forward to spending time with on the way there and back, and I was quite bummed that that plan wasn’t going to be carried out how I wanted it. And why did I have to wake up all achy? The swim meet could have gone so much better, had everything gone the way I intended it to.

But I’m not the ruler of the universe, am I? No. I’ve tried. It hasn’t worked. As a matter-of-fact, every time I try to control ANYTHING, it usually all blows up into pieces. I guess I should stop.

But anyway, at the end of the day (as I sat at home at 12:30 am eating a brownie and watching House Hunters International on HGTV), God seemed to tie all of the wrong-ness of the day back around into the chapter in Quest for Love I had read earlier. God has his own timing for things. He has ordained other times when I can visit with my [other] friends, when the Seahawks can win a meet, and when I can swim my own personal best.

It’s not as if the whole trip was bad anyway. I had a great time visiting with Kara and Stacey, listening to Toran’s life story, eating purple corn chips, beginning my career as a forensic investigator by identifying hairs on the seat in the van, swimming butterfly, taking a warm shower, complaining about my frizzy hair, making Nathan buy me a Vault, making Nathan change his cellphone ring so it wasn’t the same as mine, freezing outside, cheering at the basketball games, going to Ci Ci’s and eating the chocolatey pizza, seasoning Nicholas’ cinnamon roll, wearing Nicholas’ hat, trying not to eat purple corn chips, trying to fall asleep in the van, and getting home only to find that I couldn’t sleep. God decided that the above mentioned events were what was going to happen yesterday. And for that, I am thankful.


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