In case you were wondering, this really is what goes on of an evening around here..
Andrew (watching the Kit Movie with his dear baby sister): *comes to an especially American Girl Movie Moment* I.AM.GOING.TO.RALPH!!
Kate and I love to play duets on the piano. Meaning, Kate foolishly chooses to accompany herself rather than seeking my expert assistance. Out of revenge, I plunk down on the upper end of the piano bench and provide upper-register a-tonal accompaniment. Occasionaly I throw in a background vocal or two, but only when the Spirit moves me.
Essie: *calmly removes sock, attempts to stuff in my mouth* You sound like a dead cat.
Me: Dead cat? Surely not. I can't be that bad.
Essie: *considers*Nooo...okay. You sound like a dying cat. Which is probably worse, but whatever.
Yeah. We are that amazing.
Saturday, December 27, 2008
Thursday, December 11, 2008
Found While Cleaning out Desk
(just to give you a taste of what stress does to Grace)
~TO DO ~
1. Purchase 6 binders, 6 notebooks
2. Print: Staff Paper
3. Find: Social Security card *
4. Check e-mail for math assignment
5. Make cookies
6. Read speech assignment
7. Read theory assignment
8. Re-write math notes
9. Do aural skillz homework
10. Take your left leg. Throw it over your shoulder like a scarf.
11. Relaaaaaax...
12. But wait! There's more!
13. Pay E back
14. Read accompanying handout.
And one wonders how much I could've accomplished in the time it took me to write this.
* Yes, I did lose it. Two, in fact. Yes, I have skills. Thank you, thank you.
~TO DO ~
1. Purchase 6 binders, 6 notebooks
2. Print: Staff Paper
3. Find: Social Security card *
4. Check e-mail for math assignment
5. Make cookies
6. Read speech assignment
7. Read theory assignment
8. Re-write math notes
9. Do aural skillz homework
10. Take your left leg. Throw it over your shoulder like a scarf.
11. Relaaaaaax...
12. But wait! There's more!
13. Pay E back
14. Read accompanying handout.
And one wonders how much I could've accomplished in the time it took me to write this.
* Yes, I did lose it. Two, in fact. Yes, I have skills. Thank you, thank you.
Tuesday, December 2, 2008
Happy Song
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wNjeB76AVwc
Do you hear me?
I'm talking to you
Across the water
Across the deep blue ocean
Under the open sky
Oh my and baby I'm trying
Boy I hear you in my dreams
I feel your whisper across the sea
I keep you with me in my heart
You make it easier when life gets hard
Lucky I'm in love with my best friend
Lucky to have been where I have been
Lucky to be coming home again
They don't know how long it takes
Waiting for a love like this
Every time we say goodbye
I wish we had one more kiss
I wait for you, I promise you I will
Lucky I'm in love with my best friend
Lucky to have been where I have been
Lucky to be coming home again
Lucky we're in love in every way
Lucky to have stayed where we have stayed
Lucky to be coming home someday
And so I'm sailing through the sea
To an island where we'll meet
You'll hear the music fill the air
I'll put a flower in your hair
Though the breezes through the trees
Move so pretty, you're all I see
As the world keeps spinning round
You hold me right here right now
Lucky I'm in love with my best friend
Lucky to have been where I have been
Lucky to be coming home again
Lucky we're in love in every way
Lucky to have stayed where we have stayed
Lucky to be coming home someday
I just love their voices together!! And the lyrics are...adorable. :-)
Friday, November 21, 2008
Friday, November 14, 2008
Happiness
People who know me at all are aware that I'm a pretty happy person. It's not like I try, I just hate depressed people, so I try not to be one.
However, being happy all the time does get old. Occasionally life just pulls you down. And, man, I fall hard.
This was a really hard week for me, but mostly because I let it be. Starting it out by crying on poor Mrs. Landrum's shoulder after church on Sunday didn't help, and it just went downhill from there. The amount of time I have spent practicing over the last month or so has gone way down since the beginning of the semester, while my pianistic obligations have gone way up. My dumb wrist is keeping me back from what I really should be doing. So aside from feeling like a complete slacker, I also had the impression that everyone was mad at me because I'm not accomplishing anything. So two very, very bad days culminated in being sent out of the room by an irate cello professor, upon my being unable to accompany his student's concerto. It was fairly understandable for him to be upset with me, I really should've tried harder instead of being intimidated by the piece and the performer. But now, after walking around in my own personal storm cloud of self-doubt and discontent, someone had finally told me what I'd been telling myself for days. Not a pleasant feeling in the least.
I was mad. In fact, I was really mad. Angry and humiliated, I locked myself in a practice room upstairs and pounded on the keyboard. But, know what? Piano keys aren't very responsive. All they can do is mirror what's inside of you; nothing is fixed simply by being released. My frustration vibrated in the air around me like a question, just as confused outside as I was in. I stormed out, and finally met a sympathetic ear. Did I ever mention I love the upper class men in the piano department? I met my friend Missy on the stairs, and she took one look at my face and gave me a *huge* hug.
Over the course of the evening, various things happened which worked together to lighten my mood. And at the end of it, I found myself once again sauntering down the sidewalk kicking autumn leaves and appreciating the cool air on my cheeks. Those few days of deep discouragement made me really appreciate happiness all the more. They also illustrated to me once again that being shut in the practice room for hours on end, frustration and discomfort mounting, forcing yourself to keep on, is not the road to success. I need fellow souls to keep me going. Self-reliance is not one of my strong points, and since moving away from many of my best friends and my family, I've been realizing this more and more. God knew that Adam alone was not good; apparently the situation is the same with Grace.
Conclusion: Grace is not going to be a nun or a hermit any time soon, and simply cannot wait to get home to her dad, mom, sisters, and brothers. Where she can scream with her own voice instead of the piano's.
(UM. Wow. That was the longest blog post ever. See what happens when I decide chatting is bad for my wrist? For some reason I get the feeling I'm defeating the purpose.)
However, being happy all the time does get old. Occasionally life just pulls you down. And, man, I fall hard.
This was a really hard week for me, but mostly because I let it be. Starting it out by crying on poor Mrs. Landrum's shoulder after church on Sunday didn't help, and it just went downhill from there. The amount of time I have spent practicing over the last month or so has gone way down since the beginning of the semester, while my pianistic obligations have gone way up. My dumb wrist is keeping me back from what I really should be doing. So aside from feeling like a complete slacker, I also had the impression that everyone was mad at me because I'm not accomplishing anything. So two very, very bad days culminated in being sent out of the room by an irate cello professor, upon my being unable to accompany his student's concerto. It was fairly understandable for him to be upset with me, I really should've tried harder instead of being intimidated by the piece and the performer. But now, after walking around in my own personal storm cloud of self-doubt and discontent, someone had finally told me what I'd been telling myself for days. Not a pleasant feeling in the least.
I was mad. In fact, I was really mad. Angry and humiliated, I locked myself in a practice room upstairs and pounded on the keyboard. But, know what? Piano keys aren't very responsive. All they can do is mirror what's inside of you; nothing is fixed simply by being released. My frustration vibrated in the air around me like a question, just as confused outside as I was in. I stormed out, and finally met a sympathetic ear. Did I ever mention I love the upper class men in the piano department? I met my friend Missy on the stairs, and she took one look at my face and gave me a *huge* hug.
Over the course of the evening, various things happened which worked together to lighten my mood. And at the end of it, I found myself once again sauntering down the sidewalk kicking autumn leaves and appreciating the cool air on my cheeks. Those few days of deep discouragement made me really appreciate happiness all the more. They also illustrated to me once again that being shut in the practice room for hours on end, frustration and discomfort mounting, forcing yourself to keep on, is not the road to success. I need fellow souls to keep me going. Self-reliance is not one of my strong points, and since moving away from many of my best friends and my family, I've been realizing this more and more. God knew that Adam alone was not good; apparently the situation is the same with Grace.
Conclusion: Grace is not going to be a nun or a hermit any time soon, and simply cannot wait to get home to her dad, mom, sisters, and brothers. Where she can scream with her own voice instead of the piano's.
(UM. Wow. That was the longest blog post ever. See what happens when I decide chatting is bad for my wrist? For some reason I get the feeling I'm defeating the purpose.)
Monday, November 10, 2008
The Perfect Pair
So...I found the perfect pair of songs.
See:
Unbeautiful by Lesley Roy
followed by
Annie by Safetysuit
It's a happy set. Really. Like a good book or something.
Just try it. :-)
See:
Unbeautiful by Lesley Roy
followed by
Annie by Safetysuit
It's a happy set. Really. Like a good book or something.
Just try it. :-)
Friday, October 31, 2008
Tidbits From My Life.
Which is obviously too fascinating altogether to keep to myself. Doh.
Walking past the library the other day, I spot two people affectionately situated, lovingly popping one another's zits. True love, that.
Emily and I, noticing the hood of my car is flapping oddly as we drive down the highway:
E: What can it mean? Is there something wrong? We should find out.
Me: Nooo...that would mean actually opening the hood! Let's just leave it alone until it falls off.
Random kid at the school where E teaches: Hey, there's something wrong with your hood!
E: Yeah, I was noticing that.
Kid: *wanders over, pushes on hood*
Hood: *instantly mended*
Kid: Emily, it wasn't closed. At all.
Entering a practice room the other day, cellist for accompanying in tow, I discover a folded piece of lined paper, labeled in purple ink, "Grace F.". Confuzzled, I open it to discover a pencil sketch of a happy-looking couple digging with what looks like a soup spoon for what look like large, sparkly corn flakes. Below this touching representation is a face surrounded by a lot of hair, featuring weepy eyes and a pitifully tragic expression.
Problem: No name. No note. And the only people who can get into that room are the piano majors and a few other Select People with keys. Mysterious...
So, this weekend features our Annual CREC Texas Piney Woods Family Camp. Which will be shiny. And amazing. And beyond words. *lurvs*
Over and out.
Walking past the library the other day, I spot two people affectionately situated, lovingly popping one another's zits. True love, that.
Emily and I, noticing the hood of my car is flapping oddly as we drive down the highway:
E: What can it mean? Is there something wrong? We should find out.
Me: Nooo...that would mean actually opening the hood! Let's just leave it alone until it falls off.
Random kid at the school where E teaches: Hey, there's something wrong with your hood!
E: Yeah, I was noticing that.
Kid: *wanders over, pushes on hood*
Hood: *instantly mended*
Kid: Emily, it wasn't closed. At all.
Entering a practice room the other day, cellist for accompanying in tow, I discover a folded piece of lined paper, labeled in purple ink, "Grace F.". Confuzzled, I open it to discover a pencil sketch of a happy-looking couple digging with what looks like a soup spoon for what look like large, sparkly corn flakes. Below this touching representation is a face surrounded by a lot of hair, featuring weepy eyes and a pitifully tragic expression.
Problem: No name. No note. And the only people who can get into that room are the piano majors and a few other Select People with keys. Mysterious...
So, this weekend features our Annual CREC Texas Piney Woods Family Camp. Which will be shiny. And amazing. And beyond words. *lurvs*
Over and out.
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