I currently have that hymn, "Angels We Have Heard on High" stuck in my head, for I've just come from the living room, where I was transposing it to the key of C# major. I have written down the chords and plan to turn them in for potential future use to Amasa tomorrow during the practice of the church band. We are also performing tomorrow, and so I am somewhat stressed out about that.
In any case, I came on here to report two things: one, my mother, Wesley, and I just returned from Walmart, where we picked out the color that we're going to paint the baby's room (we're still 5% unsure of what the baby's gender will be, as it stubbornly crossed its legs during the sonogram). The color that we decided on was called Deep Ultramarine. It is a deep blue color, not too dark, that will look very nice with some glow-in-the-dark stars adorning the ceiling.
Also, yesterday was the birthday of Carson McCullers, which I didn't realize until I had gotten to school and seen the date on the televison. It was an odd coincidence, discovering this, for that morning, I had responded to a comment that Autumn had left on my facebook note regarding The Heart is a Lonely Hunter (she read it and didn't like it). I've been thinking about it, and I really would like to reread that book. So I might do that, even though I am in the process of reading three other books that I haven't read before - not to mention the other seven or so books that I have yet to read that I received for Christmas. Ah, my reading life is busy!
I dreamt last night, though my dreams were vague and I remember only snippets. In the second dream (which I recall with more clarity), I was at some sort of church event (probably the lock-in that they held yesterday for the youth). We were all lounging around the empty upper floors. The part of the church that we were in was very eerie because the lights were all out. We emerged in the Sanctuary, with its empty podium and pews. With a feeling of unease, we departed from the traditional building and found the rest of our group and our leaders in the B-building (youth building). Everyone grouped in the kitchen, conversing over cooking breakfast pastries. Various tubs of multi-colored icing stood around the counters, and kids, upon receiving their pancakes or toaster strudels, moved over to these tubs and decorated their pastries. At some point in the dream, my seventh grade science teacher, Mr. C., appeared, but I cannot recall if he did anything else significant. Unfortunately, I can barely remember the dream that occured before this one, though I don't think that it was a good one, so my forgetfulness might be somewhat conscious.
This is all that I have to report for the time being.
Saturday, February 20, 2010
Tuesday, February 16, 2010
Earnestly
I feel I must come on here to discuss in some detail the day and the dream that I have had; my grammar will probably be terrible, as I'm trying to do this quickly so as to get into bed.
In the dream, I recall being at my mother's house, and Wesley and I had plans to travel somewhere; he insisted that the only flight that he could reserve tickets for was the 1:00 a.m. flight. Mistakenly thinking that he meant 1:00 p.m. the next day, I dawdled and did not pack my bags until 12:00 midnight, when he came to my room, roused me, and said, "Why aren't you getting ready to go? Where are your bags?!"
I said, "Why should I have them packed? We're not leaving until after noon, right?"
"No!" he said, "We're leaving in an hour! Pack!" And so this is what I did: I scrambled around the dark house, stuffing things haphazardly into a bag. Then, we left in the car after I kissed my mom goodbye. He had to stop at Walmart before we boarded the plane - we were late boarding the plane as a result, and I was irritated because he decided to blame me and the fact that I didn't pack until midnight.
"Well," I responded, "You should have been more specific about your time - you say 1:00 and I'm going to assume you mean 1 p.m."
Wesley said, "Huff." Then, we boarded the plane and departed for whatever destination we were heading to.
The next part of the dream was quite personal and awkward. The same individual whom I mentioned in my last entry figured into this dream. He was visiting my mother's house in the dream - and we were hanging out in my room. The lights were out and we were very tired. We simply fell asleep on my bed. This was the whole dream that I had before I woke up.
Today was an interesting day for a few reasons, mostly because Sir Newton was our substitute in Geometry and because I stayed after school for our first rehearsal before the Hickory Festival, in which we scored a Superior last year with Mr. Talbert. The three songs that we are playing are "Rush," "Spirals of Light," and "Children's March" the latter of which is my favorite. After the rehearsal, I was rescued from walking home in the bitter weather by Eric, who drove me home. At the house, I procrastinated by playing the piano for about 20 minutes, and then I swept the house. Tonight, my dad and I went across the street to Ms. Sprinkle's house for a dinner of lasagna and really tasty chocolate pie.
Now I am here, with the introduction of Beethoven's "Pathetique Sonata" stuck in my head.
In the dream, I recall being at my mother's house, and Wesley and I had plans to travel somewhere; he insisted that the only flight that he could reserve tickets for was the 1:00 a.m. flight. Mistakenly thinking that he meant 1:00 p.m. the next day, I dawdled and did not pack my bags until 12:00 midnight, when he came to my room, roused me, and said, "Why aren't you getting ready to go? Where are your bags?!"
I said, "Why should I have them packed? We're not leaving until after noon, right?"
"No!" he said, "We're leaving in an hour! Pack!" And so this is what I did: I scrambled around the dark house, stuffing things haphazardly into a bag. Then, we left in the car after I kissed my mom goodbye. He had to stop at Walmart before we boarded the plane - we were late boarding the plane as a result, and I was irritated because he decided to blame me and the fact that I didn't pack until midnight.
"Well," I responded, "You should have been more specific about your time - you say 1:00 and I'm going to assume you mean 1 p.m."
Wesley said, "Huff." Then, we boarded the plane and departed for whatever destination we were heading to.
The next part of the dream was quite personal and awkward. The same individual whom I mentioned in my last entry figured into this dream. He was visiting my mother's house in the dream - and we were hanging out in my room. The lights were out and we were very tired. We simply fell asleep on my bed. This was the whole dream that I had before I woke up.
Today was an interesting day for a few reasons, mostly because Sir Newton was our substitute in Geometry and because I stayed after school for our first rehearsal before the Hickory Festival, in which we scored a Superior last year with Mr. Talbert. The three songs that we are playing are "Rush," "Spirals of Light," and "Children's March" the latter of which is my favorite. After the rehearsal, I was rescued from walking home in the bitter weather by Eric, who drove me home. At the house, I procrastinated by playing the piano for about 20 minutes, and then I swept the house. Tonight, my dad and I went across the street to Ms. Sprinkle's house for a dinner of lasagna and really tasty chocolate pie.
Now I am here, with the introduction of Beethoven's "Pathetique Sonata" stuck in my head.
Wednesday, February 10, 2010
Lapse in My Lectures
So, as you all can tell, there has been a lapse in my contributions to this blog (I say contributions like this blog is collaborative; it is not). I have been much occupied with daily life, and somehow have not found the time nor patience to come on here and record my musings. But here I am, needing to get to bed in about five minutes.
To start off, let me inform my readers just how pleased I am with Valentine's Day's decision to fall on a Sunday this year; I didn't realize this until lunch, but Saoirse and Phoebe were discussing how, if the holiday was during the school week, it would be impossible to walk through the halls without running into a "snogging" couple. The most amusing thing about these incidents (when they occur in real life) is the fact that the "snoggers" tend to look at the intruder as though they had interrupted something held in a private place, though these more-than-friendly exhanges often take place in a stairwell or even out in front of classrooms. Go get a room, snoggers.
Anyways, enough of my rambling on this subject; school was delayed two hours this morning, and unfortunately, I didn't get to milk my two extra hours of sleep. We did not even suspect that there was a delay until we reached the school grounds, finding them devoid of smoker children or any other students that tend to loiter outside in the mornings. We stopped by my dad's house and hung out with Lancy for an hour before I decided to head back to school, a little early. As I was early, I was able to ask Ms. Matisko for help on the rough draft of my French composition, in which I discuss in detail an imaginary trip to the Loire region of France with my family. Most of my mistakes involved the absence or misplacement of accents, so I wasn't completely clueless.
The rest of the day passed in non-event. I hung out with Saoirse and the usual lunch gang during lunch, and spoke with Stormy during Biology. Thanks to Stormy, my new nickname is Amadeus - I don't remember how it came up, but we were discussing Mozart at some point and she said, "Your new nickname shall be Amadeus." and I said, "Well, if that's my nickname, we'll have to find you an equally awesome composer's middle name to use for a nickname." So we decided that she shall be Ilych, middle name of Pyotr Ilych Tchaikovsky; Saoirse is Sebastian; Natasha is Frideric; and Phoebe, for lack of knowledge of other interesting composers' middle names, is simply Von. So a new tradition has started.
We are in the midst of the registration process, and it is quite stressful. I am weighing two options as the process occurs: I can either take piano classes for my zero-period, or apply for AP World History, hoping that enough students apply for it as a zero-period to bring it back to Reynolds. I'm leaning more toward the piano class, as I'll end up taking World History in my senior year anyway, and then I'll definitely take it as an AP class.
And now, for dream-related musings; I did have quite a vivid dream last night, not all of which I shall relate. But I will relate what I may. The dream began in band class, and let us, for the purpose of this telling, say that there is a certain young man named Earnest in my band class. So, in the dream, we were instructed to place our music binders at the front of the room (these held original compositions as well as the pieces we played in class), to pick another "random" binder from the pile, and to grade the binder we picked. I'm not sure how we were supposed to grade these binders, but I apparently knew how to do this in the dream. I waited for the oppurtune moment to grab Earnest's binder, as I had a special interest in his original compositions. I gave him a 100% and a smiley face, and when Mr. James came around to collect all of the peer-graded binders, he observed my grading job and offered me a knowing smirk. He knew exactly the motive behind the retrieval of this particular binder. After this moment, the dream changed, and I was living in a nice, West-End-ish sort of house with my mother, father, Jessica and Daniel, and some other people (my Aunt Karen was there, also, but she was just visiting in the dream). I wore a summer dress, and appropriately so, for outside, the sun beamed down and a gentle breeze (much unlike the 60 mph winds that dominated today) ruffled the hedges and green leaves of trees. I ran excitedly about the house in expectation; I was to have friends over that day. When my two girl friends arrived (I don't recall who these were), I brought them inside and informed my mother of their presence. She welcomed them and remarked, "Well, Earnest'll probably come over in a little bit also. He's been coming over almost every day." Just as she said this, we heard the sound of a slamming car door outside and I saw, through the window, Earnest marching up the steep front walk from his automobile. My friends, mother, and I greeted him, and the whole party moved to a living room of sorts, where we were listening to music and lightly conversing. This was about the end of a fairly pleasant dream.
Other than this, I don't have much to report of a fairly non-eventful week.
To start off, let me inform my readers just how pleased I am with Valentine's Day's decision to fall on a Sunday this year; I didn't realize this until lunch, but Saoirse and Phoebe were discussing how, if the holiday was during the school week, it would be impossible to walk through the halls without running into a "snogging" couple. The most amusing thing about these incidents (when they occur in real life) is the fact that the "snoggers" tend to look at the intruder as though they had interrupted something held in a private place, though these more-than-friendly exhanges often take place in a stairwell or even out in front of classrooms. Go get a room, snoggers.
Anyways, enough of my rambling on this subject; school was delayed two hours this morning, and unfortunately, I didn't get to milk my two extra hours of sleep. We did not even suspect that there was a delay until we reached the school grounds, finding them devoid of smoker children or any other students that tend to loiter outside in the mornings. We stopped by my dad's house and hung out with Lancy for an hour before I decided to head back to school, a little early. As I was early, I was able to ask Ms. Matisko for help on the rough draft of my French composition, in which I discuss in detail an imaginary trip to the Loire region of France with my family. Most of my mistakes involved the absence or misplacement of accents, so I wasn't completely clueless.
The rest of the day passed in non-event. I hung out with Saoirse and the usual lunch gang during lunch, and spoke with Stormy during Biology. Thanks to Stormy, my new nickname is Amadeus - I don't remember how it came up, but we were discussing Mozart at some point and she said, "Your new nickname shall be Amadeus." and I said, "Well, if that's my nickname, we'll have to find you an equally awesome composer's middle name to use for a nickname." So we decided that she shall be Ilych, middle name of Pyotr Ilych Tchaikovsky; Saoirse is Sebastian; Natasha is Frideric; and Phoebe, for lack of knowledge of other interesting composers' middle names, is simply Von. So a new tradition has started.
We are in the midst of the registration process, and it is quite stressful. I am weighing two options as the process occurs: I can either take piano classes for my zero-period, or apply for AP World History, hoping that enough students apply for it as a zero-period to bring it back to Reynolds. I'm leaning more toward the piano class, as I'll end up taking World History in my senior year anyway, and then I'll definitely take it as an AP class.
And now, for dream-related musings; I did have quite a vivid dream last night, not all of which I shall relate. But I will relate what I may. The dream began in band class, and let us, for the purpose of this telling, say that there is a certain young man named Earnest in my band class. So, in the dream, we were instructed to place our music binders at the front of the room (these held original compositions as well as the pieces we played in class), to pick another "random" binder from the pile, and to grade the binder we picked. I'm not sure how we were supposed to grade these binders, but I apparently knew how to do this in the dream. I waited for the oppurtune moment to grab Earnest's binder, as I had a special interest in his original compositions. I gave him a 100% and a smiley face, and when Mr. James came around to collect all of the peer-graded binders, he observed my grading job and offered me a knowing smirk. He knew exactly the motive behind the retrieval of this particular binder. After this moment, the dream changed, and I was living in a nice, West-End-ish sort of house with my mother, father, Jessica and Daniel, and some other people (my Aunt Karen was there, also, but she was just visiting in the dream). I wore a summer dress, and appropriately so, for outside, the sun beamed down and a gentle breeze (much unlike the 60 mph winds that dominated today) ruffled the hedges and green leaves of trees. I ran excitedly about the house in expectation; I was to have friends over that day. When my two girl friends arrived (I don't recall who these were), I brought them inside and informed my mother of their presence. She welcomed them and remarked, "Well, Earnest'll probably come over in a little bit also. He's been coming over almost every day." Just as she said this, we heard the sound of a slamming car door outside and I saw, through the window, Earnest marching up the steep front walk from his automobile. My friends, mother, and I greeted him, and the whole party moved to a living room of sorts, where we were listening to music and lightly conversing. This was about the end of a fairly pleasant dream.
Other than this, I don't have much to report of a fairly non-eventful week.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
