Thankful for my most dreaded holiday. [[list no. 1]]

Bratty relatives.

Being the odd one out.

Turkey.

Crazy relatives.

Cold.

Long car rides.

Family gossip.

Overeating.

Food coma.

Pulling an all-nighter.

The worst materialistic holiday eve.

Knowing that I participate in the selfish materialism.

Planning out for the next day.

Awkward conversations.

Cliche conversations.

Leftovers.

Things that although I am grateful for, I wish this holiday could go without.

Ravenscroft, Hockey Games and Thanksgiving Break

Ravenscroft practice begins tonight. It seems I just finished one show and start another. Well, that's life, and how I live it.

I got Eric out of the house and we went to the mall. He ACTUALLY sat through an hour of shopping for jeans for me. How nice of him :] Then we went to Steak n. Shake. Since that's his favorite place, I let him pick and I paid since he so patiently waited outside of Rue21's dressing room while pair after pair of jeans were tossed and discarded until the perfect pair sought out.

Well, then I went to his hockey game. And sat with his mom. For an hour and a half.

Not meaning to make it sound like torture at all. I like his mom. We got to talk for a while and I think she likes me. I told her how wonderful of a son she has and that he shows nothing but respect for me.

Thanksgiving Break, finally. To sleep in for once, how nice it will be, and then the Foundation Charity basketball game tomorrow... I look forward to it.

I wish the weather would make up it's mind. One day it snows and looks like a winter wonderland, the next day it rains and mud cakes the soles of my shoes. I think Mozart's Symphony 40 in G major perfectly fits the day: It's got high parts that seem almost joyful, such as when it snowed today, or the fact that today is the last day of the school week, but as the song was written after the death of Mozart's young child, it is a dreary song (though it is composed well) as today is. Dreary all together with some high parts. A sad day, it is.

The situation with my friend is resolved. He doesn't realize his position as a citadel of strength and a Christ-witness to me. The thing with Eric, though, I am still not sure about. He pretty much beat-around-the-bush told me that he wants to say I love you, but I kind of told him that I thought it was too early (It's only been a month and a half) and that I didn't want to hurt his feelings because simply I don't feel the same way. Yes, I really like him a lot, but am I patient and kind, not envious or boastful, humble, polite, selfless, tolerant and forgiving, enduring all things, believing and bearing all things, never failing him?* Of course not. I'm fifteen and this is just a boyfriend that I've had less than two months. So I don't want to lie to him just because he feels that way about me.

So as for that situation, I am sorry that I may have hurt his feelings, but better to be hurt by the truth than pleased with a lie.

* (Referencing 1 Corinthians 13:4-7)

Two down, Twenty-eight to go.

Bell choir concerts, that is.

School drama show= over as of last night.

Downtown show=began as of last Sunday, rehearsals begin sometime soon.

I'm getting really worn down and I look forward to thanksgiving break... even though I will most likely be working right through it.

Problems are arising with the boyfriend and the best friend.

And the girl that criticizes my every move. She can just go away. Pick on someone her own mannered.

Christmas is nearing. I am becoming overly busy. I wish I could just pause life right now, straighten everything up, and then un-pause it.

It doesn't help that my favorite Bible was left at school. Arghh.

And yet, by some odd disposition, I have had the craving to hear and perform any classical piece I can get my hands on. I'm going insane. My Christmas list? A boxed set featuring the greatest composers of all time.

And they're all named Johann(es) (1 Paravonian, Youtube)

I'm not a princess,

This ain't a fairytale
I'm not the one you'll sweep off her feet and lead her up the stairwell.
This ain't Hollywood
This is a small town
And it's too late for you and your white horse
To come around.

Because I've found something better and tomorrow makes it one month :] I'm not really that sad over Jordan anymore. I guess it just wasn't in God's favor for me, and maybe things are better that we don't talk any more. He did move pretty fast and that's never a good sign. But yes, I have found someone who thinks I am perfect and treats me like a queen. Some may say I have him 'whipped', but I think it's more that we respect each other and do things for each other and don't just see each other as sex objects. Eric and I are at the place right now where we cuddle and watch movies, kiss goodnight, and leave each other cute texts and notes. I love it. I don't have to worry that he will break up with me because I'm too prude nor do I have to worry about being rushed. I mean, he's not perfect, and neither am I. Sure, he isn't a Jordan-look-alike, but I think he is great looking. I think another problem with Jordan was that I felt inferior to him because he was so wealthy and very, very good looking and popular at his school. Me, I'm middle class but I have nice things, and I'm not ugly but I am certainly not the prettiest or most popular girl at my school. I'm okay with that. Eric is obsessed with playing as many sports as he can, and I'm obsessed with playing as many instruments as I can. Our hobbies are alike, but not in the way that we are competitive about them, and I like that. I appreciate the little things he does for me, like sending cute texts, making sure I get home safely, kissing my forehead when I'm falling asleep, and never do I get tired of hearing his friends tell me of how much he talks about me. And no, he isn't the total romantic-verse-reciting-throwing-rocks-at-my-window-Noah-Calhoun-calls-me-beautiful-dances-with-me-in-the-rain-makes-me-mixed-cds-knows-all-my-favorites-surprises-me-for-no-reason prince that I have always wished for, but who in this world fulfills that desire? A better question is, how could I, a normal human being, live up to this person's expectations? I know I couldn't be the Charlie's-Angel-cooks-amazingly-always-looks-like-a-model-doesn't-nag-always-cheery-agreeable-mysterious-perfectly-petite-daring princess any man wishes for. So no, he's not everything I have ever wanted, and I'm cool with that. It wouldn't be fair. I think God gives us our quirks and makes us argue to bring us closer. A perfect person would be so boring. Maybe Eric and I will last, maybe we won't. So far, we have lasted longer than almost any relationship I have been in before, and I'm not becoming bored with him and I hope he isn't with me. Whatever happens, happens, and for a reason. He's not riding a white horse and he's not Prince Charming, but I am not Juliet descending her stairwell, so I will take this for what it's worth.

It's only fitting.

As it is 11/11 and approaching 11:11, I have a big wish to make.





Which will not be said, lest it not come true.



But happy 45th birthday dad, wherever you are, creeping on my blog.

Fearless>Carrie Underwood

So the new Taylor Swift album came out, and it is amazing.

My favorite, of course, is Fifteen.

'Cause when you're fifteen and somebody tells you they love you
you're gonna believe them
and when you're fifteen
feeling like there nothing to figure out
well count to ten, take it in
this is life before who you're gonna be
fifteen '

God, I wish someone would have told me that before freshman year even started.

Isn't it odd how music can just express our true thoughts and feelings and give us the advice we need?

As Shakespeare wrote, If music be the food of love, play on.

Let the games begin.

the first bloody nose of the season means only one thing.

Well, two.

Number one, our family's supply of Kleenex will be rapidly lessening and I will be spending much time holding my nose over a sink.

Number two, winter is here.

Yes, it's one of my favorite things, the breaking of blood vessels and whatnot and having blood gushing out of my nose. It gets me out of class, sometimes out of school even (okay, that hasn't happened since 7th grade. They had to send me home because it wouldn't stop. The second week of school and I was already being sent home. Great, right? No. Shows how concerned our school was about liabilities and whatever.).

And I guess my doctor has always suspected it to be some polyp that's causing all of this, but why would I want to have surgery up my nose? Sure, bloody noses are no fun at all, but surgery is worse. I'm good with shoving cotton up my nasal cavity and holding ice on my face.

Winter is here. Technically, it's still autumn, but as long as I'm shivering, wearing a heavy coat, curling up with cocoa and putting on my fleece robe when I get up, it's winter to me.

My absolute favorite. Cold wind, slushy snow, slippery ice, tacky coats, lost gloves, not-warm-enough furnaces.... delightful.

little ado about much.

I'm past the point of not caring about my homework, searching for motivation.

Which will probably arrive with my grade card, I'm afraid I don't have a 4.0. But to me, it's not a great deal. ACT scores and extracurriculars are more prominent then having a high GPA. I also have come to the realization that my parents won't let me leave Ohio to go to college. It's sad. I would love to go to Stanford, but they say it's not 'realistic'. The only reason it's not realistic is that it's all the way across the country. This is my chance to get out on my own and explore the world, and yet I have to stay within 300 miles of this small town. I guess I'm not really bitter about it, but I still am interested in Stanford. Maybe it's not what God wants me to do. It's only the most refined English school in the country. But I guess I could get just as good of an English education at Ohio State. If that's even what I want to major in. I really should begin to narrow down where I would like to go and what I would like to major in, but I can't bring myself to commit to something when I know that this is my future and my life. Highschool, everything is chosen, with respect to picking electives. College is one's choice, and what one chooses is what one becomes [assuming one follows through with the major]. Can I really handle that decision my sophomore year of highschool? It's so overwhelming, and I've been praying about it like crazy. But I trust God to lead me in the right direction.

A friend brought to my attention today that when our youth group makes their annual trip to Washington, D.C. for the pro-life march and protest this year, it will be 3 or 4 days after Obama officially takes office on January 20th, 2009. Not only will DC be more hectic than last year, but our protest will be more integral in this struggle to put down the culture of death. Obama is by far the most liberal president on abortion rights issues thus far, and making abortion legal to all without any hindrance is one of his top priorities. As a Catholic, this hits hard, even harder that my parents both voted for him and opposed my preference for McCain. I'm more than thankful that under the first amendment we have to ability to protest against this genocide, and after seeing friends become pregnant and coming to know more about the actual process of abortion, have come to appreciate those who fight earnestly for this cause. Hopefully someday we will see an end to infanticide and abortion, though unlikely in the next four years. But miracles happen, and maybe Obama could have a change of heart. Who knows.

Is one month really a big deal when it comes to relationships? I think so. It's a milestone for me. Of course I've dated guys for more than a month, numbering 3 before this boy, but by the one month marker I was beginning to regret it for 2 of them. I feel fine with this relationship and can feel us growing stronger each day. But I'm afraid that he is intimidated by me. I also thik he doesn't appreciate my two best friends being guys, namely, two of his best friends also. And as for last night, we played rock band, and even though I was terrible on the drums, it was fun. then we watched drumline for the 3rd of 4th time this past month and I felt like he actually was happy to have me in his arms. Most of the time he doesn't show it, but I could notice him playing with my hair or making circles on my back. I guess I just felt like something was there that hadn't been there before, and I don't have a clue what it was, but it surprised and pleased me.

Orchestra is getting better I guess. i wish our director would have more patience and we could all learn our parts better. i still havent decided if im staying in it next year.

in other news, i think today was a really great day, and i felt happy for the most part, ecstatic at times, yet i don't really know what made it so special. works for me.

I'm not getting bored, no sir, I promise.

So I guess this night will turn out like countless others.

I go to his house, we cuddle and watch tv/movies, i go home.

dont get me wrong, its great and all, but i dont want to get bored. i know hes not, but i might be. i want something to happen. i need change, cmon obama, change i can believe in. excitement. im not talking about that stuff, just about mixing things up and wishing he would surprise me with something new or different.

i cannot complain. he is wonderful. most of the time.

...And now that this PSA is over, reflection in the form of taffeta, ribbons and rhinestones.

you know, today really is an important day.

forget the presidential election for a minute, and let's focus on the other things that made it significant.

1. It's three weeks. whoopdeefreakingdoo. I'm glad that I had to remind him. When he was the one bugging me about it for the past 4 days. But I don't really care, it's not a real commemorative time frame anyway. but since i'm a women cursed with raging hormones, this struck a nerve in me.

2. I got out my winter clothes (all 3 jumbo tubs of them) and put away my summer clothes. goodbye short-shorts and tank tops, sundresses and flip flops.... hello boots and sweaters, cords and feathers. this task always brings back memories, and a smile to my face. i relive the warm days when i wore certain things, and if i breathe in deeply i swear i can smell the sunshine right in the fabric. i find clothes in these tubs that i forgot i had, and laugh in spite of the granny nightgowns the skim the floor that i am embarrassed to own yet still wear in the privacy of my own home, these being placed right next to the almost skanky chemises and tank tops also seen solely by my sheets, pillows and rabbits.

3. I put the dresses away. The 4 dresses that have brought me to where I am. They include:

a. The teal polka-dot sundress from our 8th grade 'formal' end-of-the-year dresss, the dance where only the skanks grinded in the middle of the gym and everyone else conferenced in exclusive circles with their friends or went downtown to walk around in their dressy clothing. The dress that matched my best friend's contrasting red one, the ones we bought together that i never paid back the $11 i borrowed from her to cover the expense. I wonder if she remembers. I forgot. maybe I should pay that back. mehh. the dress that did not flatter my body; instead, me being pregnant was the new rumor started at the dance commemorating our class almost being freshman. go us. the dress that was worn with silver glittered flats and the taboo of lingerie to not be spoken of underneath. the garments purchased by a group of friends who later almost felt to guilty to don them, but did anyway and felt rebellious and almost free. boy, we were lame.
b. The freshman homecoming dress. the dress borrowed from Clare upon the decision to go to homecoming approximately 7 hours before the dance was slated to begin. the dress that was her already-worn-in rehersal dinner dress from a pre-wedding fete occuring 2 years earlier. the dress has since stayed in my possession, solely from the previous owner's lack of need or want for it. some of the hot pink ribbon frayed, it was a simple black dress brightly trimmed with this satin ribbon. the dress was cut in a draped fashion and hit above my knees, surely too short, but not in a skanky way, thus making my legs appear to me outrageously long and odd. but what did i care? i was a freshman going to homecoming with her best friend. the dress, or possibly the girl in it, attracted a stranger that i came to know better in the months following the night's activities, his name being Nathan, and his stature being a senior. i was hooked. shoving my nose into the fabric and inhaling deeply, i can smell his cologne mixed with my perfume from that night, and it brings back wonderful memories that also sadden me, knowing i may never be that close to him again.
c. The Greek-goddess influced dress that made me a spectacle at the prom, and gave my date a chance to prove his manliness. the floor length Greecian purple and lavender gown with a sweetheart bodice and beautiful ribboning. worn with the same $8 shoes from homecoming, the dress had sat in my closet since january, purchased on closeout sale at a department store, hoping to be chosen from the many other dresses collecting there, praying that being prepared would lead to a lucky chance to attend an event almost unheard of for a freshman. the debonoir gown matched well with the royal purple vest on the lucky boy, and the two proved to be a sight, compared to david and goliath. the dress showed the girl's muscular back, toned shoulders, propped-up bustline and enhanced her height. standing in the heels, she proved to be 6 foot exact, and felt even taller. she felt like a princess, or even queen of the world, and debated sleeping in the dress after all was said and done. although she didnt, the months following it's debut were filled with bona-fide trying-ons and modeling for the jealous walls of the empty house.
d. The much talked about and uncopied bright yellow dress from homecoming this past year. The dress that some said was too short, too low cut, too skanky for that girl. the dress that some said fit the girl's skankiness. the dress with a color unmatched at the dance. the sunshine hue made her marching band-and-countless hours of sunbathing-tan skin glisten. the color alone received compliments, ranging from how unique to how jealous they were for not thinking of yellow. another greecian dress, the girl couldn't help herself. the goddess look was in her favor again. new heels this time, silver-colored, matched the brooch adorning the front of the dress that contained an earring to replace a fallen-out rhinestone. with the dress came the date. a senior from another school, he was also talked about by everyone for weeks after. tall, dark and handsome, the girls wondered how she, pretty, but not a looker; tall, but too much; popular, but not enough; outgoing, but very shy, had obtained this god. the guys wondered why the guy had picked her, she was prude and wouldn't let him more than kiss her, when he could have scored a home run with a much prettier and more popular girl. these past two sentences still boggle me, but i dont waste time pondering them. the two attendants had talked and hung out all summer, but never officially became devoted to each other at the boy's wishes. the girl put up with it. the dress found her in the arms of the boy she was almost certain she was falling in love with after the dance. this would be the last time the girl, or the dress, would be in his arms. the day after, the boy had no desire to speak to her, and wanted nothing to do with her. within a short deal of days, he became commited to one of her close friends. the dress that had hung prominently in her view all summer long, that was tanned and worked out for, was put to the absolute back of the closet in an attempt to rid the memories.

As I carefully folded these seemingly unimportant garments, tears filled my eyes and blurred my vision. big fat drops of sadness, joy, loneliness, anger, guilt and grief spilled from the corners of grey eyes and raced down my cheeks. i quickly wiped my mascara-bleeding eyes for fear of blemishing these pieces of history. i could not understand why a simple act of folding 4 dresses and putting them away for safe keeping could bring me to tears. as i folded the sheet over the dresses, a sigh of fullness and emptiness was released from within me. the sheet itself, a precious beauty and the beast linen missing its partner, lost somewhere during my childhood, was encasing these dresses that saw four nights of fun that i could not trade for anything. four nights that i felt as if i could do anything, four nights i felt truly beautiful and almost loved, four nights i spent in the arms of others, four nights of cliche that i enjoyed guiltlessly.

and I wonder to myself, how can these cheaply-made gowns make one feel so beautiful, when i own sevenfold the amount of clothes equalling the expense, perfect fit and colors of these dresses? how can i let myself feel that high on life every day? why can i not appreciate being with those i care for without standing on burning feet and hearing blasted rap? why do i curse any other cliche?

the answer is all within the mind. we are manipulated by media to believe that we are only worthy on these special occasions on which we feel invincible.

Damn you, media.

nobama, mcpain, nay-der....

looks like our next president is a baby-killing oreo.

okayy, maybe that's too harsh. yes, it is. obama isn't really all that bad. but the whole pro-abortion thing is a downfall. it doesn't help how liberal he is about this, either.

not that mccain would be better. why not just vote bush in again (and violate the 22nd amendment) and save the hassle?

yes, mccain is a hardcore POW who can't even raise his arms lest he be in pain and have horrible recounts of his torture. but he follows most of bush's beliefs.

but obama wants to bring the boys home where they belong.

but mccain has experience.

but he has PALIN. 'nuff said.

and do we really want someone with the vast emptiness of experience such as obama ruling our nation?

as for nader, we don't need your communism, thank you very much, go kill your babies and dictate the world somewhere else. get joe the plumber to join you.

which, there is quite a funny account about joe the plumber.

me, being the type to never watch tv or read the newspapers for lack of time, i had only heard of 'joe the plumber' from mccain bashers and supporters alike at school. but due to most of the students there lacking any diction in their speech, i presumed his name was Joe Deplummer.

Imagine my embarrassment when at supper I asked my parents what position Joe Deplummer held or vyed to hold in our government.

"Joe Deplummer? Hah! Don't you mean, Joe the Plumber?"

That's exactly what I meant, yes ma'am, for sure.

if you're complete, prove it to me.

so it's monday. i hate monday.

im waiting for david to get these cds burned for me from last nights concert.

im getting impatient with him. he is complete but i dont see it.

show me.

maybe i should just chill out. take things slow. but tomorrow is 3 weeks. i dont know. he is driving me crazy. but i think i like it.

by this time tomorrow there will be a new president. not that he will have power. lame duck amendment, FTW. remember boys and girls, vote NObama. vote FAILin.

actually, i support McCain. my parents found this out today and were upset. not that it really matters, since they already voted and im not going to.