Sunday

The other day, Sunday, was super-cool. I was at my mom's house, and my mom and Wesley have been working on renovating the bathroom, so we didn't get to do much this weekend, but on Sunday, they decided to take a break, and so my mom and I went out for lunch and intended to get a movie afterward.
We ate at Coppola's, which, for those of you who don't know, is by Bethabra Park, the Hollywood Video, and this awesome ice cream joint called Allen's Dairy Treats ( :
The food was good, and I was able to take leftover fettucini alfredo to school for lunch the next day, which was awesome. Anyways, it was a really bright, pretty day outside, and we had decided earlier that day that we would probably take a walk around the neighborhood, but Bethabra park was right across the street, and so I was thinking that it would be a good day to mix it up and go there. I suggested this to my mother, and she thought that it was a good idea.
So we asked the dude at the counter of Coppola's, and one of the people at Hollywood video (which, incidentally, was the only place in town that had the movie we were looking for; red box is putting everyone out of business) where to park at the section of the park with the swamp, but neither of them knew, so we drove around a bit in the area until we found the parking spots. Then we took a hike through the woods until we came to the boardwalk that stretches across the swamp near the road. We sat toward the end of the boardwalk, right in the middle of the swamp, and these two geese swam up to us and just sat there for a while.
They were pretty cool. It seemed like the fat goose was a male and the skinny one was a female, but I was just guessing from the way they drank; the one that I suspected to be female drank in a very prissy, serious manner, while the man-goose just sort of swung his head about in the water, accidentally splashing his woman. Also, the male seemed to be following the female around, and she seemed like the goose personification of a controlling, uptight woman. . .Hence my sexist goose stereotypes.
So anyways, we just sat and watched these geese until the female one honked at the male and started to swim away. He, of course, blundered after her, hindered by the opposing current and his own weight. As we walked back, my mom and I were trying to think of good goose names for them (since I have a passion for naming things) and I came up with the names Gimli and Gertrude (yes I know I'm a Lord of the Rings nerd).
So, that night, we went home and watched our movie, which was really good and really weird at the same time, and then I studied for the social studies test while taking a bath. I normally take showers, but the shower curtain was down so that it wouldn't get in my mom's or Wesley's way while they were painting, so we've been taking baths for the past few days. After I was done bathing and studying simultaneously, I dressed in pj's and went to bed. This morning was the first in a few days that I have showered rather than bathed; and you had better believe that I took the oppurtunity to sing, at 5:30 a.m.

Very Happy:

Yesterday was our band field trip to Hickory for the festival, and it was just as perfect as it could have been. After eating lunch at the mall, watching a few other bands perform (and getting taken out of the auditorium after a while because people were being loud and laughing at this one band), it was our turn to go onstage. The percussionists (that's me!) set stuff up while the rest of the band went to wait to use the warm-up room. Then, we joined them in there, a room full of these beautiful pianos that I was tempted to play because I was stressed out, and that is my outlet usually. Mr. Talbert spent most of the warm-up time tuning the instruments so we wouldn't sound crappy onstage. Then, we left to go on, and it was very bright on the stage; one could not see the judges as more than blurred shadows from my place behind the snare. The first song that we played was American March, which was the one song that I played on the snare, and I was afraid afterward that I did badly; in effect, I played Joyful Journey with less enthusiasm, though was very at-peace with the world by the time we made it to Two Celtic Folksongs, our very last tune. There's this section in that song, from measure 11 (pick-up) all the way to the beginning of the horn and saxophone solo that just blows me away; I don't play at that part (I play the xylophone in the faster section) but it's great to listen to the trumpets and flutes and dance discreetly behind my xylo. Anyways, we got off the stage, and I was still unsure about whether we did a good job or not; so the percussionists grabbed the equipment we would need for the sight-reading room and we headed over there. I was on the bass drum for the sight-reading, with Chris on the snare, and the sight-reading was super-easy, the only "difficult" part being its time signature switch from 3/4 to 4/4. After performing some hymn variation song with no problem at all, we headed back to the front of the building to wait for our results to turn up on the board (we still weren't trusted enough to sit through Meadowlark's concert). It had been mostly drizzly and gray through that day, weather made only more depressing by a small, depressing town that was "very likely to have many racists," as a frightened Ryan said during one walk from the bus to the building. It had been really cold all morning, but now it was a nice refreshing temperature, after after what seemed like forever, Mr. Talbert came back outside and ushered us all into the auditorium, where one of the judges stood on the stage ready to announce our score. He said that we got a score of "Superior," which is another way to say all ones, or perfect. So we left high-fiving each other and what-not, and were ranting about our success all the way back home; today was a pretty good day as well. We just got done watching Happy Days!

Movie Review: Bolt

This movie, an animated comedy about a dog who thinks that he is a super-hero, is clever and moving.
We just got back from watching it at the two dollar theater, but anyways:
The movie starts with Bolt in a pet shop, just a puppy, when a little girl shows up and falls in love with him immediately. Years later, the girl and the dog are the main characters of a hit TV action show where Bolt has amazing super-powers and is constantly saving "his human" from danger.
Because of a lack of interest in viewers over 18, the TV network decides to make the show a bit more unpredictable; they end an episode with a cliff-hanger, and Bolt, who thinks that every dangerous situation acted out is real, is left with the impression that his master is in danger. His human's agent doesn't allow her to find and comfort Bolt, and so he breaks out of his trailer to find his human (whose name is Penny). By a mistake, he ends up in a cardboard box that is shipped all the way from Hollywood to New York City, and is left with the task of finding his way back to Penny, who he still thinks is in danger.
So he begins his journey across the continental United States; along the way, he meets vivid characters like Mittens, the cynical cat, the ganster pigeons of New York, and Rhino, the hamster who has an obsession with Bolt and his television show.
With a touching ending that will make every dog owner cry (or maybe just me, since I'm a sap), this movie is definitely worth watching.
I have made the decision, however, that if I cannot make it through an animated dog movie without getting emotional, then I will wait for Marley and Me to go to the red box before watching it so that I don't make a scene in the middle of the theater ( :
This movie is awesome and you must see it. Now. Ten/Five stars: **********

Two Things. . .

1. I have changed my mind, I think, about posting poetry up here; it seems like it would be too easy for someone to steal it.





2. This week: has been pretty decent; everyone's been slightly stressed out about the workload, and Mr. Samora just assigned us a new project today in science class. We have to write an essay about cell theory, which I suppose is pretty interesting, considering cells are the roots of life and what-not. But anyways, I can't remember much before yesterday. I went to school rested, for the first time in a few days; I had gone to bed earlier than usual, and it was easier for me to fall asleep because I was already exhausted from a lack of sleep the day before. We went to Reynolds Auditorium to watch this speaker; his name was Jamie something (I really like the name Jamie for a dude), and he came to inform us of his many expeditions to Mount Everest, and he was pretty amusing, but he tried a bit too hard, and from what I could tell, the teachers didn't enjoy him too much (when I asked Mr. Samora what he thought afterward, he said that he thought the guy was innappropriate).

Then, when I got home, I tried to finish my homework as quickly as possible, so that there would be time for mon madre and I to do something interesting before I would have to go to sleep, wake, repeat.

She and Wesley decided that they wanted to go out to Longhorn for dinner, since they'd both been working hard that day (they were fixing up the bathroom). So we went to eat there, and I had an indescribable longing for chicken fingers, so I ordered chicken fingers; which probably looked pretty stupid, considering we were at a steak restaurant. Oh well, customer satisfaction. Anywho, the food was fantabulous, and we were out in the parking lot, heading to the car, when my mom asked me what I thought about dinner. I told her that I thought it was great. Even more than that, I said that it was so enjoyable, I had a mind to click my heels and yell "Hurrah!" in the middle of the parking lot. And this is what I did, except I had my hands full of my purse, camera, and leftover chicken, so my heels passed each other in mid-air and in all the distraction, I ended up yelling, "Yurhah!" instead of "Hurrah!" But, as in the tradition of all great things, a new word was born of a blunder. That whole night, we were yelling "Yurhah!" at random; it was pretty great.

Announcement:

I'm going to put some of my poetry up here, I think, so you people cannot laugh.

Another Crazy Dream

A few nights ago, when I was at my dad's house, I had another extremely weird dream, and I feel that it is my duty to inform you people of it. And it is important to know, before I tell this tale, that I fell asleep with my blindfold on that I use to block out the light when I actually get to sleep late.

The dream started in Mr. Holbrook's classroom. I was sitting in my usual place with the rest of my homeroom, and then Mr. Holbrook came in and said, "We're going to go on an educational field trip to India!" Which was sort of odd, since we haven't really focused on India as a history topic, as of yet.

So he told us that we were going to be walking to the ocean, where a boat would be waiting for us. Then, the dream changed, and we were all hiking through this thick, humid forest outside. Everyone kept tripping on these roots, since they were everywhere. There were also lots of bugs and mosquitos and what-not, since it was so humid. Mr. Holbrook was bouncing along ahead of the group, reviewing all of the facts that we had supposedly learned. He was wearing one of those Hawaiian flowery t-shirts that you see tourists wearing a lot.

Then, after an hour or so, he informed us that we were getting nearer to the ocean. There were a few "Yay-hooray"s from the crowd. Meanwhile, the roots grew more abundant and easier to trip over. Also, the bug problem got worse; now, not only were we being attacked by mosquitos, but there were those really nasty jumping crickets that look like spiders (again with my arachniphobia), as well. They were hopping along, slowly surrounding us from the sides and particularly from behind. When I looked back, I saw a large black cloud of them hop about 30 feet into the air.

Ahead of us, Mr. Holbrook jumped for joy because he had the first sight of the ocean through the trees. The other students started to run with him towards the beach, which was perhaps 50 yards away. I made to join them, but I tripped over a root; looking behind me, I saw the cloud of crickets start to descend mid-hop; right on top of me.

I was suddenly paralyzed; I was unable to move at all. I was lying on my back (in real life, too, which was probably why I had a bad dream in the first place) in the dirt, and I could feel these crickets hopping all over my face, on top of my eyelids, and in my mouth, and on my legs. Someone near the edge of the forest shouted at me to get up, and I tried to communicate that I couldn't move, but my mouth was currently full of crickets.

After an incredible amount of effort on my subconscious's part, I felt my arm move, and at that same moment, I woke up; my arm swung up and knocked my blindfold off. I thought about it and decided that the presence of the blindfold was perhaps what caused me to imagine crickets on my face.

So it was decided that I would never again fall asleep with that blindfold on. Ever. The end.

Spaghetti Party of 3/6/09 - 3/7/09

A few days ago, I had a sort of mini-birthday party, since I didn't want to have some huge celebration. It was very awesome, and I have come on here to describe its awesomeness.

On Friday, after finding out that I am not failing in math (yay!), I rode my bus home to my mom's house, where we showered and got ready to go over to Shannon's.

The previous weekend, Stacia had suggested that we go over to her house the following weekend to celebrate my birthday and what-not; she said that she wanted an excuse to make a cake, and I told her that she didn't need to worry about it, but she insisted on making the cake and her famous spaghetti. So the spaghetti party was planned for that following Friday.

After we were done getting ready, we headed over to Shannon's house around 5:30, after dropping off some Sleeper Cell posters at Jackson's Music. I played the keyboard there, and it had a beautiful sound.

Shannon and I quickly walked the dogs upon our arrival, my mom and Wesley having disappeared outside somewhere for a cigarette, and we were looking for some new neighborhood skater people that were allegedly "hot" (this is according to Shannon). They were not outside anymore, so we went back to the house and down into the basement, where Sean was showing my mother his ferrets (Draco and Raja) and collection of rocks and jewelry. As a present, he gave me a necklace of hemp that he had made, and Shannon gave me these awesome blue earrings and a bracelet that she had made.

Shortly afterwards, we had dinner and cake, and were listening to a Deathcab for Cutie cd that I had brought along, when Logan called and said that he could come over; he did so just as my mom and Wesley decided that they had to leave to go hang up more posters.

We showed Logan the ferrets, but then we took the dogs for a walk through the neighborhood again, and it was a beautiful night; it was warm, one of the first warm nights we've had in a while, and there was this light breeze blowing. It felt like we were close to the ocean.

Then, once we got back from our walk, we hung out upstairs in Shannon's bedroom until it was about time for Logan to leave, which was around 9:00, and then we went downstairs and hung out for awhile there.

I forget how it came up now, but while we were down there, Shannon and Sean got this brilliant idea that they should use the bagel guillotine that they have to chop up this leftover pancake from a pancake party that they had a while back. I got this on film, and I just decided to mention it because it's randomly fantabulous, and fantabulously random. It was "just like being in the French Revolution!"

After talking for awhile, we retreated back upstairs to change into pajamas, and then we came downstairs to take the dogs out once more to the backyard, and we stood on the back porch with Sean for awhile, talking about Japanese horror movies. Like I said, it was a beautiful night ( :

A little while later, we went upstairs for the last time and Shannon painted my nails this bright red color before we went to bed. The next morning, I got up early to help Stacia take her dogs for a walk, and I was sweating by the time we got back; it felt like a humid spring day in Florida (and it hasn't even been two weeks since the last time it snowed!)

My dad came to pick me up around noon. . .and I don't remember too much after that.

A Bad Dream

Last night, I had this really weird bad dream.
My friend, Shannon, several other people from school, and I were outside on this dirt path. My dog Juliet was with us, and we were walking along through openings in walls of scraggly bushes.
We had this assignment from school where we were supposed to manuever our way past several different types of dangerous animals without being mauled or eaten. Sort of weird, but it obviously didn't seem so at the time, since it was a dream and all.
So, we were all walking along, a group of about five, when someone in front of me stopped and moved quickly behind a bush; we all grew quiet and hid behind nearby bushes, looking through their branches.
Pacing across the path ahead was a large, elephant-sized tricerotops-looking creature whose footsteps made the ground quake. It growled quietly and looked every once in a while in our direction, evidently expecting the next group of students to attempt to pass by it alive.
The group had a whispered conference behind the largest bush, but none of us could remember how to safely get past this creature; no one even knew what it was.
Some guy said, "We have to move on; so we'll use Juliet as a distraction, and then we'll run." I was about to disagree with this, but it was too late; eveyone had moved out into the open, including Juliet, who began to quickly approach the beast with no fear. It roared loudly, and at the very last second, Jules veered to the right, leading the creature off of the dirt path. Everyone was bolting for the passage through the bushes at the far end of the field.
However, before they could get there, Jules was limping back, bleeding and injured, and the creature was sprinting along behind her. I ran toward Juliet, trying to pick her up so that I could run with her and we could make haste. Half of the group came back to help, and the other half that was reluctant soon found their escape route through the bushes blocked by the creature. As it was about to bear down on this group near the bush exit with a large claw, the person who had suggested this whole brilliant plan shoved a stick into the creature's eye. Enraged further, the monster stomped about blindly with a hand over its face, and everyone backed away rapidly for fear of being crushed.
The group trying to help Juliet had stopped mid-way through the act, awed by the scene before them. However, when it stomped, still blindly, in our direction, we lost no time in collectively backing away. A horrible yelping sound told us that Jules had not followed us.
As the creature moved, and we found that there was nothing we, as students, could do for Jules, we made our escape through the bushes and used someone's cell phone to call for help, in case it was possible for someone else to save Juliet. Our teacher materialized out of nowhere and scolded us for not using the proper technique to avoid the creature. He would not listen to anything we said about my dog.
Anyways, shortly after this, I woke up, and I am still trying to figure out why I had such a random dream.