Have I mentioned that my school gives me two weeks off for Spring Break? How much awesomeness is that, eh?
I want to make sure I use the time well though. Making stuff and such. There's this craft store in town, a really good one. It's got this one section with all this "Make Your Own Pendant" stuff. Pieces of circular glass. Aluminum flux tape. And best of all, a whole bunch of packaged clock pieces. The gears and faces and hands and such. It hums with potential, but the stuff is expensive. Probably because watches, especially old ones, aren't exactly cheap items.
I think maybe I'll start writing a new story this week. I've got some ideas that are pretty well fleshed out. Although, sometimes, I find that those are the hardest to write. I want to get everything right, down to the plaid of the characters jacket, y'know? Because they've been living with me in my head, I find it difficult to bring them into something as two-dimensional as writing.
Easter is this weekend, as I'm sure many of you are aware. Sean is planning his the Hunt already and I'm getting more and more excited. I wonder if I will do something similar to the Hunt when I get older with my own kids. It seems only right that I would, but I'm not sure I would know quite how to go about it. Sean says starting backward is the trick.
I really wish that I could sew, as I think it would open up a whole new venue of artistry for me. I'm just kind of terrified of sewing machines. Needles rotating at such intervals are not exactly encouraging. And I've heard horror stories before. Maybe I'll just keep relying on my parents. (Because, yes, Sean sews. His seams are impeccable in fact.)
Northie got an iPod Touch earlier this week, and though I would never, ever let him know, I am mad with jealousy. Of course, his iPod is full to the brim with Zombie Killer and Drum Kit Apps, things I wouldn't touch with a ten foot pole, but sometimes I see glimpses of things that just drive me nots with how cool they are. But I've vowed never to get an iPod again, so I suppose I'm just destined to be envious.
Wednesday, March 31, 2010
Tuesday, March 16, 2010
Overstep
So I had this kind of revelation today, on the bus.
We were all sitting there, tired because of the standardized test that we had just taken, which pretty much melted our brains entirely. We were heading to orchestra at that point, and I was clutching my enormous puffy cello case like some sort of life raft. It was a short bus and it was the 3. The 3 is what I would classify as a shifty bus. It's not a naive commuter bus. It travels downtown every fifteen minutes, transporting everyone from blue-tooth chatting lawyers to rather dapper hobos.
Anyway, we were sitting there, kind of silent, and this man leaning in the corners, asks loudly.
"That a violin?"
We get this a lot. Which is understandable. We're downtown lugging around these ridiculously shaped parcels, trying to keep our balance. It only follows that we're going to get questioned.
"Yes," replies the girl to my left, quietly. People don't generally talk to people beyond their own party. It just singles you out. She's silently freaking out. But she's handling it well.
"My sister used to play violin in the sixth grade.I just play the harmonica and..." He mumbled something else after, but none of us heard what he said. There was obviously something up. He turned to me.
"And is that a guitar?" he asked
"Actually, it's a cello" I replied, small. I should say more, but it's awkward, and I know that you don't talk to strangers.
"Oh," he said, and then mimed striking a bow against the fingerboard of an imaginary cello, his left finger wiggling notes.
"Yep." There was more silence, and my little group exchanged that look, like, don't let this devolve into anything more, because we were brought up with stranger danger. When a dirty man with slurred words starts talking to you on a bus, when no one else will, the warning signs inside your head start flashing up.
He left the bus at the next stop without any more conversation. They all exhaled together and there was this general murmuring of "That was kind of weird."
This sort of thing happens all the time in the city. It's kind of commonplace. And the strangest thing about it is the kind of kinship I feel with those crazy bus people. The ache in my heart when we all unanimously sigh, "Freaky". Because, to a certain degree, I grew up with that sort of reaction with some of my peers. Obviously, none of them considered an 5 foot girl a physical threat, but I too got the "You're alien" look. I don't think it was traditionally a malignant thing, just kind of an instinct. But I would get it always when I was too loud or too excited, or I wore some ridiculous long dress to school. A flash of it, that made me stop and stutter, and wonder where I'd overstepped.
I'm not writing a pity post here, not trying to blame my peers for some blank stares, but I just had this unmistakable sympathy for that man on the bus today. And I wanted to say,
"Yeah, I play the cello. I love it." or "Does your sister still play?" or "What other instrument do you play." Something to let him know, I guess, that it is okay to overstep, sometimes.
But I didn't.
Because people just don't talk on buses.
We were all sitting there, tired because of the standardized test that we had just taken, which pretty much melted our brains entirely. We were heading to orchestra at that point, and I was clutching my enormous puffy cello case like some sort of life raft. It was a short bus and it was the 3. The 3 is what I would classify as a shifty bus. It's not a naive commuter bus. It travels downtown every fifteen minutes, transporting everyone from blue-tooth chatting lawyers to rather dapper hobos.
Anyway, we were sitting there, kind of silent, and this man leaning in the corners, asks loudly.
"That a violin?"
We get this a lot. Which is understandable. We're downtown lugging around these ridiculously shaped parcels, trying to keep our balance. It only follows that we're going to get questioned.
"Yes," replies the girl to my left, quietly. People don't generally talk to people beyond their own party. It just singles you out. She's silently freaking out. But she's handling it well.
"My sister used to play violin in the sixth grade.I just play the harmonica and..." He mumbled something else after, but none of us heard what he said. There was obviously something up. He turned to me.
"And is that a guitar?" he asked
"Actually, it's a cello" I replied, small. I should say more, but it's awkward, and I know that you don't talk to strangers.
"Oh," he said, and then mimed striking a bow against the fingerboard of an imaginary cello, his left finger wiggling notes.
"Yep." There was more silence, and my little group exchanged that look, like, don't let this devolve into anything more, because we were brought up with stranger danger. When a dirty man with slurred words starts talking to you on a bus, when no one else will, the warning signs inside your head start flashing up.
He left the bus at the next stop without any more conversation. They all exhaled together and there was this general murmuring of "That was kind of weird."
This sort of thing happens all the time in the city. It's kind of commonplace. And the strangest thing about it is the kind of kinship I feel with those crazy bus people. The ache in my heart when we all unanimously sigh, "Freaky". Because, to a certain degree, I grew up with that sort of reaction with some of my peers. Obviously, none of them considered an 5 foot girl a physical threat, but I too got the "You're alien" look. I don't think it was traditionally a malignant thing, just kind of an instinct. But I would get it always when I was too loud or too excited, or I wore some ridiculous long dress to school. A flash of it, that made me stop and stutter, and wonder where I'd overstepped.
I'm not writing a pity post here, not trying to blame my peers for some blank stares, but I just had this unmistakable sympathy for that man on the bus today. And I wanted to say,
"Yeah, I play the cello. I love it." or "Does your sister still play?" or "What other instrument do you play." Something to let him know, I guess, that it is okay to overstep, sometimes.
But I didn't.
Because people just don't talk on buses.
Tuesday, March 09, 2010
Rain
First of all, a big picture of this tea. Because I really, really love it, and more importantly, the packaging it comes in. It's so old fashioned and the colors and fonts are perfect. We ran out of it recently, which was really quite a sad thing. Although, I think the empty box might still being sitting in out tea cupboard (Which, now I kind of realize is ridiculous. We have a lot, a lot of tea and a whole cupboard devoted to it. Mountains of it.)We started discussing existentialism in class today. I think I like it, or at rather, I like all that I've read about it so far. It makes me feel really significant. I might change my mind in a few days, but today and for now, I like it, and am looking forward to learning even more about it. People are saying they find it really depressing. I don't, at least so far. But I'm jumping the gun even talking about it.
We're going through an unexpected dry, cold spell and it's making walking to classes hell. My nose and ears are starting to match my scarlet scarf. I hope it goes away and the heavy rain comes back. Or maybe perhaps the sun. The sun is okay as long as it's not mucky. Do you know what I mean? I can handle clear sunlight, but not muggy sunlight.
I know this is awful, but I can't wait until the summer when I start making money again. I'm having this sudden revival of my taste being thrown in my face. I can feel this definite aesthetic, and I can't really buy anything to supplement it. But I suppose I'd better get used to the feeling. I've still got months to go before the market starts up again.
Did you know that out of the 103 blog posts that I have written, only 67 have been published? I was looking through my archives last night and was totally surprised by that. But apparently there have just been a lot of posts that I didn't deem right to be seen in the light of the day. Which brings me to another point.
Somebody was saying to me the other day that one of the integral traits of a true writer is someone who continues to write without an audience in sight. I don't know if this applies to me or not. On some days, I think that I would definitely write on a deserted island. Other days I tell myself that that would totally not be happening, that I rely on an audience when I'm writing. It's an interesting question I think. I ponder it quite a bit, when I'm walking aimlessly, or looking out a window.
Have I mentioned that music theory is really, really difficult? I feel like I'm accomplishing much, and our teacher is simply the best, but dear god. Just when I start to get something, something else is cautiously introduced and my head explodes. But the class dynamic is great, everyone helping each other and working hard. It's competitive too, but in a nice way. It's more motivational than aggressive.
Speak of the devil, I'd better go work on that. Sorry for the random post.
Wednesday, March 03, 2010
Ten Great Things About This Week
1. Getting "Definitely Maybe" from Netflix. Mum watching it on the couch, finally getting to sit down, and me sitting on the floor, drinking my tea, and telling her when the good parts are coming up.
2. Winning the forum election in my humanities class, alongside my other fabulous teammates. I got to wear a bowler hat and a moustache. What's not to love?
3. Learning music in orchestra that I love, and that I want to get better at. There's stuff that I at first was leery of, but am slowly beginning to understand and accept. They are going to be beautiful things, these pieces.
4. New bad ass characters that run around a futuristic, steampunk cities in the dead of
night, plastering corrupt governmental propaganda posters over brick walls and hiding from violent rebel splinter groups.
5. Two new skirts. One floral rayon, the other tan linen. Both long and A-line. Unfortunately, I still need some more clothing. Everything in my closet has been on repeat for the last three months.
6. Tall Skinny Vanilla Lattes from Starbucks. Specifically money to buy them. And the time to go and order them between 7th and 8th period.
7. Rediscovering music because it is spring and I'm sifting through stuff I haven't listened to for months. Rock on Yann Tiersen! And thank god for the new Joanna Newsom album.
8. The grape hyacinth and daffodils that have started blooming next to each other on the UWT campus. It's hard not to want to pick them. They are the perfect color combination. Spring in one singular image.
9. The appearance of cadbury mini-eggs on candy shelves in every grocery store. Only now can spring truly be here. They too are a picture of Spring and the fairer months.
10. Good heavy books by Scott Westerfield that I am suddenly itching to pick up and read in their entirety.
2. Winning the forum election in my humanities class, alongside my other fabulous teammates. I got to wear a bowler hat and a moustache. What's not to love?
3. Learning music in orchestra that I love, and that I want to get better at. There's stuff that I at first was leery of, but am slowly beginning to understand and accept. They are going to be beautiful things, these pieces.
4. New bad ass characters that run around a futuristic, steampunk cities in the dead of
night, plastering corrupt governmental propaganda posters over brick walls and hiding from violent rebel splinter groups.
5. Two new skirts. One floral rayon, the other tan linen. Both long and A-line. Unfortunately, I still need some more clothing. Everything in my closet has been on repeat for the last three months.
6. Tall Skinny Vanilla Lattes from Starbucks. Specifically money to buy them. And the time to go and order them between 7th and 8th period.
7. Rediscovering music because it is spring and I'm sifting through stuff I haven't listened to for months. Rock on Yann Tiersen! And thank god for the new Joanna Newsom album.
8. The grape hyacinth and daffodils that have started blooming next to each other on the UWT campus. It's hard not to want to pick them. They are the perfect color combination. Spring in one singular image.
9. The appearance of cadbury mini-eggs on candy shelves in every grocery store. Only now can spring truly be here. They too are a picture of Spring and the fairer months.
10. Good heavy books by Scott Westerfield that I am suddenly itching to pick up and read in their entirety.
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