There is a time and a place to discuss Pokemon. History class is not that place, and now is not that time. This poor substitute. I can tell you one thing; the nerd is strong with these boys. What was our teacher thinking, not leaving us work?
For a moment, we were all there. Listening to and laughing at the same jokes. The whole universe taking a second to feel something good, breathing at the same moment, smiling at the same moment. The stars themselves seemed to approve of the time together, for they shined twice as bright that night. A moment of happiness, for everyone. An evanescent second where nothing was wrong. Everyone was on the same side. Everyone was right and wrong, but no one was conceited and no one was ashamed. Nobody was scared because there was no reason to be. For a fraction of a second, our worlds were perfect.
As quickly as it had come, it left. Surely enough, we began looking in the same direction, and seeing different things. Standing in the same light while running different speeds. Always with mixed feelings. Nothing was plain, nothing was black nor white. Suddenly nothing was good enough, simple enough, inspirational enough, painful enough, important enough, and it was for this reason that no one cared enough. Not one person realized the difference, the change. All anyone noticed was how much they missed that one breath, that one laugh where everyone was together, without resistance and without question.
From that moment on, it was only walking. Always walking. Never stopping. Forward motion, don’t stop. It didn’t matter where, directions were thrown to the wind. As long as you were walking, you were okay. Some tripped and fell, some were faster than the others. When it rained, you toughed it out. When it got windy, snowy, stormy, you kept going. The footfalls marking one era after another, and they never slowed.
Some wished they slowed, sometimes wishing they would just stop altogether. Sometimes it seemed like things would only get worse if you continued walking, but you had no choice. Everyone was a slave to the world, and no one could escape. A number of generations have passed since that single laugh, smile, and breath. The children of the children of the children of the people who were there to watch it happen spend their days walking, and waiting for it all to happen again, but as the distance from the day it had happened and the modern day grows, it seems less and less likely. As long as they keep walking and keep waiting, hope will never be lost.
I know this isn’t what you have all come to expect from me, but I do happen to have a deeper side, so I hope you like it. If not, then don’t worry, I’ll be back to normal next week . . . probably. I don’t know if I should just consider this writing or poetry, it just started coming to me in history class, and I thought I would write it down and share it with you.
I going to try this time, because usually this posts at a time totally separate from when I mean for it to post, and for a week or two I kind of just gave up on this installment of my blog. I’m going to give it a shot, so here goes.
This Friday’s song is called Lion’s Roar by The Hush Sound. I can’t really explain why I love this song so much, but a few of the lyrics make sense to me and the parts that do make sense I think are really awesome.
I came across this song via my brother had control of the radio and he put this song on. From a musician’s standpoint on this song, it has a really unique sound and it could have easily been a disaster, but it’s really good. The song has a kind of polka/brass sound which probably wasn’t the easiest thing for this band to mash together so cleanly. It gets stuck in my head all the time and I don’t think it has the popularity it deserves.
This is a rare song for me, because it’s not often that I am more compelled by the music in a song rather than the lyrics. I’m the type of person who just thinks lyrics are the most important part of the song, because they’re responsible for the message, but my favorite parts of this song are the parts that don’t have any lyrics.
So click on the link and listen to the song. I can’t imagine the mind of someone who wouldn’t like this song.
I actually did more things with my life this weekend. I know, it’s unusual . . . well . . . for me, at least. My school was hosting all-state auditions this year and I promised my choir director that I would help with whatever duties he needed me with. Apparently, this meant selling concessions.
We were stocked up in the cafeteria, where they gave us a cart, two bags of bagels (however, we had nothing to put ON the bagels, or any means of toasting them so we sold none), some baked goods (about ten bags of cookies), soda, and pretzels (the soft ones). It was then that we had to hunt down the janitor and ask him for the elevator key to bring the cart up to the main floor, and around to the front of the school. Of course, my partner in crime decided to give the key back to him as soon as we were parked in our spot, not thinking about the fact that we had to get back to the cafeteria somehow (I’ll tell you more about that later). Don’t worry, though. Everything involving the cart moving between floors was her problem since I’m terrified of being in elevators.
From there, we spent the next four hours sitting in front of the main entrance being asked one of three main questions continuously. They were either “Where are the bathrooms?”, “Where is the registration room?”, or “Where is the warm-up room?”. The last one really got annoying because our ‘concessions stand’ was right in front of the auditorium. Now, I’m talking one entrance door was on our right, and the other was on our left. Both doors were propped open and you could easily, not only see the other auditionees, but hear them singing. I was asked the warm-up room question at least 70 times, and I was really frustrated with the lack of common sense.
Another FAQ didn’t start until later, and it was “Where is the cafeteria?”. This one was excusable because our cafeteria is hard to find if you don’t go here. It’s at the point where we felt really guilty just pointing people in the right direction because they are so likely to make a wrong turn and get lost that we just eventually started getting up and walking them there.
(I’m going to put this in perspective for you. From where we were sitting, here are accurate directions to get to the cafeteria “Go down this hallway and make a right. Now the hallway bends, but it’s still technically just one hallway, so even though you’re going ‘straight down the hallway,’ you’re really going to have to make another right and then a left. The hallway dead-ends at the music room, so before that happens, make a right onto the mini-staircase and then almost immediately another right to the actual staircase and go downstairs. Now just go straight out of that staircase, don’t use the back exit, and directly to your right should be the cafeteria.” You can see how we thought it would just be easier to walk them there ourselves.)
About half-way through the day, we were expecting people who came up to ask for directions, not food. Needless to say, when three guys came up to us, it wasn’t stupid of me to ask “Do you know where you’re going?” Well, they did know, and I felt stupid.They wanted waters. Then, apparently they started flirting with me. I say apparently because I don’t realize when people flirt with me. I mean, who would, have you seen my face? I only know this because the girl running the stand with me said “AAAWWWW Katie, growing up, guys flirting with you.” To which, I said “Wait, they were flirting?!”
Later on the guys came back and guess who got to escort them to the cafeteria? You guessed it, ME. Well the poor souls would have gotten lost otherwise.
Anyway, at the end of the day when we were packing up, our friend who had auditioned (a guy), helped us lug the cart down a flight of stairs and then down a few more stairs and then up a bit to the cafeteria, all the while dropping drinks everywhere. Don’t worry though, we spent the rest of the time helping out in the cafeteria (by that I obviously mean we ate half of the food and gave two people hotdogs).
Howdy guys, it’s Monday again. We all know what that means.
I did a lot yesterday. Nothing productive, but a lot of relaxation and a bit of frustration and a lot of sun. Then I got home . . . but I’ll tell you about that after the fact.
My little brother (13) wanted to go fishing yesterday, so we got out our $200 a year membership to a sportsman’s club we go to about once every two years and I tagged along. Now, I’m no pro-fisherman, and I won’t pretend to be; but there was NO REASON why I shouldn’t have been catching fish, because my brother and I were doing the exact same thing.
We were there from 11 am until about 4:30 pm. He caught SIX FISH by about two o’clock, and the four year old about 5 yards down the lake from us caught a fish. And me? Nothing. Nada. Zilch.
Eventually, we came to the conclusion that he had a psychic connection with anything stupid and I had a psychic connection with anything smart, meaning my fish would be too smart to be tricked into getting hooked. It made sense, because every time my bobber bobbed (always only ONCE) and I reeled in after a minute, the bait was gone.
Finally we switched rods (we practically had the same exact set-up) and I caught three fish in the first ten mintues. My brother, you ask? Nothing. Nada. Zilch.
Then we left to go to the driving range (I still suck at golf). I got home around 5:15, and I managed to develop a wicked sunburn on my right arm, and there is a line where my hair thing was around my wrist. Now I’m in pain.
Okay, class is starting. See you on Friday!
WARNING! WARNING! You are about to read a post from the past on account of I have an essay to write by tomorrow and this happened to be in my drafts. This post is about the musical we did earlier, which we have already finished performing. Sorry I didn’t have it in me to write anything golden today. It starts now:
It’s about that time again; the time of lost energy and sore throats. It’s (dun dun DUN) hell week. That’s right, the week that us theater kids have seven-hour rehearsals of mostly incessant singing, dancing, and trying not to pass out. With the exception of costume changes and dinner break, every member of the cast is on stage the entire time because it’s Godspell.
Thankfully, I have the option to skip dinner, which last night consisted of fried chicken (thank God I’m a vegetarian, right?) and mac & cheese. Of course, I had about two bites of mac & cheese so that I would have the time to do my homework.
“Seven-hour rehearsals?” you ask. I can tell you’re incredulous, let me explain. They are dress rehearsals, all week, for seven hours immediately after school. We get a little less than an hour to get dressed and to do make-up (since I’m a girl, I also have to do the make-up of a few of the more heterosexual guys in the cast). We start the play around 4 and go until 10, I did say that includes dinner and costume changes/make-up. Although the drama department at my school does provide us with dinner, I have found myself skipping it quite often. Not for any reason that would be detrimental to my health, but because I have a lot of homework to do and I have no other time to do it. I mean, what kind of person who is at school from 7:20 in the morning until 10:00 at night would do their homework outside of rehearsal? I mean, you have to get a shower and change and take off your stage make-up and all that jazz. It’s not exactly ideal.
Tonight, however, I did eat dinner. And boy did I EAT! Somebody brought the vegetarian issue to the attention of the woman in charge (it wasn’t me, that’s not how socially awkward people roll) and she managed to get us vegetarian subs which were delicious and like two feet long. I had half of one after I told myself I would only eat like a quarter. Somehow my brain just slipped into auto-pilot and before I knew it I looked down and the whole half of the sub that I previously had on my plate was gone. I felt like a monster. (Side note: there were olives on that thing and it was my first time trying olives ever, to be fair I definitely gave them a chance, but they are one of the worst discoveries in terms of food in the history of the universe).
Thankfully, the teachers know how hell week works and since I had straight A’s last marking period, I have 2 homework passes in each of my classes. Sometimes I think they give us a lot of homework just to see how out of it we are the day that it’s due. Goodbye now, back to the class that I ignored for the past ten minutes while writing this.