Freedom

That is my word for today, as today, my friends, marked the end of our middle school careers. Just think, in two months or so, we'll be going into high school, separated from the people who (in the case of many) we have attended school with for six years. Last night, I found this amazing crossword website where you can make your own crosswords (I added the link to my list of sites) and I made a crossword to give to Alexis, Elizabeth, and Shannon, who has already finished her's, with a little help from me with the sections on song lyrics; after school today, I made my grandfather one for father's day, which is appropriate because he loves them. When I was in Atlanta, I helped him solve one a day from this little book, which has been a ritual for him and my grandmother. Anyways, I'm getting off topic: back to the last day of school. I woke up late this morning, since my mom's alarm went off late - this brought about the necessary deletion of my morning shower from my schedule, and so I went off to school feeling unclean and thinking, "I will be very sad if the rest of my day goes like this."
Halfway to school, I found this brown stuff caked on my shoe that looked like dog crap, but it turned out only to be mud.
At school, I spent first period in Mrs. Browder's class, helping her move books down to Room 108. We ran into Mr. Clauset in the hallway and we all sabotaged him with hugs; it was amazing, as he is going to Peru or South Carolina or something and won't be teaching anymore. I also got to hug him later that day out in the bus lot, and now I don't feel bad about forgetting to write him a letter to put in that anthology. Then, in band, nothing eventful happened except that I got to hug Mr. Talbert and watch him complete Elisabeth's survey (I hugged him in the bus lot again as well) Then we watched the rest of the 1980's presentation, and I won a plastic bag of skittles for naming two popular 80's movies. I got a hug from Mr. Holbrook, but not until later on that day.
Then, in science, we tested our tower and Terry, Duane, and I got an efficiency score of 523.4. Our little tower-that-could.
Lunch was depressing; it was when everyone first started to weep. There were people leaning on each other, sobbing, and one would think that we were all going off to war or something (I was, in fact, reminded of the scene in The Killer Angels in which Armistead remembers the night before he went off to war, the night he spent with Hancock and his wife). Madison suggested that it seemed as though we were going off to different countries or something, and soon after did a loud impersonation of the weeping people with Jenny in the hallway outside the bathroom. After this incident, it was common to see groups of people crying throughout the rest of the day; as hard as Shannon, Alexis, and I tried, as obliged as we felt to contribute to the overall emotion of the day, we could not shed tears (though, as I predicted, I did when I came home).
After science, where I gave Mr. Samora a hug as well, we went to English, where we "roasted" people, or had them go up and listen to embarrassing stories about themselves. It was pretty hilarious, especially this one that Sara told about Mallory having an imaginary dog that supposedly lived in the attic. We hugged Mrs. Allman (who won't be coming back to teach next year) and left, and this was probably the closest I came to crying at school that day.
In math, we just messed around, played a round or two of truth or dare, and ate Ms. Vasili's yogurt, which I must confess was a bit too different for my liking; if my taste buds were more diverse, then, perhaps, I might have enjoyed it slightly more than I did. Then, as it neared time to leave, everyone hugged each other and Ms. Vasili, and we walked through the hallways to the outside world. I tried to pay close attention to every detail of the school I would likely never walk in again, ran my hand over the lockers, looked at the various shades of carpeting and linoleum. Some teachers high-fived us on the way out; then, in the bus lot, most of us sabotaged the teachers standing sentinel in the center with hugs (this was where I gave Mr. Talbert and Clauset my second hug) and then we moved on to the bus.
When I got home, my dad asked me if I could do the dishes and sweep, which I was glad to do, to keep my mind off of the weird sort of sadness that had started to settle in me with the realization of the disruption of three years of routine. Before I did this, though, I went upstairs and took a long bath; I got out a minute or so after I nearly drifted off, for sleeping is the last thing one would want to do in a place where drowning is even a slight possibility.
Then, I went downstairs and pulled up my Myspace music playlist, and blared it while I removed the clean dishes from our dishwasher and inserted the dirty ones from the sink; this was where I first cried. I had added the song, "Shake It," to the playlist because it had been stuck in my head all that day, and I was fine through that song, but something about "Vienna" by Billy Joel saddened me, and so I shed a few tears. Then, "Homeward Bound" by Simon and Garfunkel played, followed by the "Triple Concerto in C" by Beethoven, and I couldn't really shed too many tears over these.
Soon after this, Hope and Heather arrived home, and the latter retired upstairs for an hour or so; I played with Hope for a while, an activity that typically keeps my mind off things. Eventually, when I felt that I couldn't take another minute of playing with baby dolls, I brought the blocks out in front of the couch (playing with blocks was my favorite childhood pastime), turned on the TV to Hope's channel, and took a break.
My dad came home, we went out to dinner at Fudruckers (where we were waited on by Alice, who is one of the coolest waitresses in the world; if you're ever waited on by her at Fudruckers, you should tip her 150%!), and then we came home. My dad and I went to see Terminator at the Wynsong Theater, and from the commercials, I had thought that it would be pretty awesome, and it turned out even better than I had pictured it. It's the first future-esque war-with-machines movie that I have ever seen that has actually made me ponder how terrifying it would be if machines had independent intelligence. However, I was exhausted from being around crying people all day, and from crying myself, and so I drifted off during one part; I still recommend the movie, though. Then, my dad dropped me off at my mom's house and I went to bed. We will be going to my grandfather's house tomorrow, after a yard sale that will hopefully bring about some money for our planned trip at the end of the month to Ohio.

News! News! News!

Today was the graduation day, and, though it ended well, it did not start nicely.
I arrived at school in my concert dress and dropped by the guidance office feeling excited; I was going to ask at what I would be making up the Algebra EOC that I missed last Wednesday (I assumed that the make-up would take place after the graduation ceremony). I was talking to the nice guidance lady about it when Mr. Dankwardt came in and informed me that I was to be back in the guidance office at 8:00, which was thirty minutes before the graduation began. I didn't protest, but the guidance lady did. "Couldn't she make it up afterwards?" she asked, to which he responded, "No. 8:00." So I went upstairs to Mr. Holbrook's room to wait for 8:00, and I went back down to the guidance office. I had called my dad's house shortly before I left for homeroom to inform my grandparents that I would be missing graduation; apparently my dad called guidance while I was in homeroom and spoke with Mr. Dankwardt, because after a few minutes spent in guidance, Miss Brown and the other nice guidance lady were able to convince him to let me go to the ceremony, which was just as amazing as I thought it would be. We marched in to "Pomp and Circumstance," as the eighth graders last year did, and then we watched a little slide-show of pictures with music, just as the eighth graders last year did. Unfortunately, I didn't have my glasses on me, and so the powerpoint was somewhat unclear, but the music was enough to make one reminisce; they played two Smashmouth songs, including "All that Glitters is Gold," which reminds me of when I was little and "Shrek" came to theaters, which was a hit with me and other young'uns of my sort. Then, after honor roll announcements and perfect attendance announcements, the teachers came up and began delivering their teacher awards; I won one of the English teacher awards, and I was so happy because I didn't think that I would win it. I was so certain that at least two people other than myself would win it. Eric Schoning won the other award. Then, the best part, I won the Haltiwanger Scholarship! I now have $5000 saved up for college! I went up to the front of the room as I wasn't sure if I should stay in my seat or not, and Mr. Bennett looked sort of bewildered and said into the microphone, "Uh, well, I don't have the five grand up here, Robyn." and so I was embarrassed and subsequently sat down (Elizabeth Garcia from the other team also won). After the other recognition ceremony components (during which most of the students bestowed hugs on Ms. Vasili, who was last in the line of the teachers who waited to shake our hands), we were excused to go and get refreshments; I got some juice and was wandering around. Parents were coming up and congratulating me, some that I knew, some that I didn't. Then Mrs. Schoning came up to me and hugged me and told me that "once I become a famous writer and write a beautiful book to write something in there" about her. It was the only part of the whole thing that brought me close to tears. Then I went and made up the EOC, which was really easy (I hope that I get a good grade after saying that), and those were the important parts of today. Most everyone went home after the celebration, and so it was just Sergio, Mathew, and I in Mr. Samora's class working on our projects. Last night was the graduation party at the country club, and that was pretty fun, too; the best part of that was probably dancing with Shannon, Alexis, and others to the song that goes, "Apple-bottom jeans and the boots with the fur, with the fur, the whole club was looking at her, at her - she hit the floor - next thing you know - shorty got low low low low low low low low." I think it's called "Low," but I wanted to supply the lyrics anyways. Short thing: Shannon got a smooch from Will, who is apparently a good kisser, my grandparents are in town, and I just got back yesterday from Georgia.

News and a Dream

Today, in just a few hours, I will be boarding a plane to Atlanta, Georgia, where I will visit with my grandparents; I apologize for my laziness in not supplying my avid readers with my entries from the cruise trip as of yet - I still have to transfer them all from my notebook, which takes longer than it may seem. Unfortunately, my algebra EOC is tomorrow, so I shall have to make that up on Monday, according to Mr. Dankwardt, or Mr. Danforth as Jenny kept calling him.



Anyways, the fun part: my dream last night - it was one of those really long dreams that seem like they last the whole night, and for some reason, whenever I have these, I feel exhausted in the morning when I wake up. At least it was a good dream, though.

In the dream, I was back on the cruise ship (The Disney Wonder), and Hope and I were wearing these flouncy white dresses, walking around barefoot on the 9th deck (there were 11); it was about noon, and the sun beat down overhead, not too bright, but toasty enough to feel very soothing on our bare arms and legs (the best part was that, in the dream, it wasn't toasty enough to be roasty). The ship was a bit different in the dream; the swimming pools were gone, as well as the big screen in the center of the ship that constantly blared with music. Instead, there were three times as many beach chairs (the kind you lay down on to get a tan if you don't roast like I do) and they all faced the railing, beyond which the water could be seen, a crystal blue, for miles.

About halfway down the ship in our progress towards the bow (front), Hope saw her mother framed in the doorway, calling her to come get a slice of pizza from Deck 5 (though there wasn't pizza on deck five on the actual ship) and she was hungry from having a small breakfast that morning. (It is important to add here that in the dream, it was as though we had been on the ship for a few days, gone elsewhere for a while, and then gotten back on) I decided to keep walking, as I wasn't hungry yet, and I had almost made it to the end of the boat, and was really excited about the view I would have of the ocean, when I heard my name called from somewhere to my right. I turned and saw this kid that I had met (in real life) previously (the first night of the cruise at this party they threw for teens). He was lying on his stomach on one of the beach chairs while this elderly, pale woman wearing a pink dress that inflated and deflated as the wind took hold of it massaged some sort of ointment into his back (he was wearing dark red swimming shorts) Eyes closed in pleasure, pain, or some other emotion, he called my name again and I wandered over to converse, kneeling beside the bench.

"Hey," I said, "So you came back on for the second trip as well?"

He smiled, eyes still closed, and said, "Yeah. You going to the party tonight?" I thought about it and realized with dismay that my dad and I had planned to go see a movie tonight at the $2 theater (which didn't make much sense, as the $2 theater is in Winston-Salem, but dreams will be dreams) . So I told him that I would be unable to, and he seemed disappointed about it. At that moment, an old bald man wearing water wings (and swimming shorts) ran past with a wallet in hand, closely pursued by a muscular man in his early thirties who was shouting obscenities at the man and who caused many parental hands to be clamped over curious children's ears. The old, bald man, rather unsteady on his feet, stumbled back into the railing close behind me, trapped, and as the pursuing man made one last advance, he toppled back over the railing. The advancing man dashed up to the railing pointed down, and was yelling, "That man stole my wallet! The sonuvab!*#$ - he stole my wallet and now it's in the ocean somewhere - " Some blue-uniformed guards, the only people not in beach attire, dragged the man away somewhere and everything seemed to be normal again for the time. I was about to tell the boy on the chair that I was going to be going to the party tomorrow night, when Hope appeared again in the doorway, and informed me that there were apple smoothies downstairs, which in real life does not sound appealing to me; however, it did in the dream, so I excused myself and followed her down into the main hall, where Mickey and Minnie Mouse (or people dressed up as them) were singing opera, filling the cavernous lobby with sound. The End (my alarm went off).

A Short Piece on Death and Morbidness

I had an interesting experience a while ago, and it was similar to many that I had had before, but now I think I understand it a bit better:

I was going about my daily routine, not really focusing too much on the environment around me as I was absorbed in my inner thoughts, when I suddenly waved my hand before my face; I stopped and actually paid attention to it (for how often do you look at your hand and really think about it at the same time? not that often, right?). And it was very weird, because the longer I looked at my hand, the clearer it seemed to come into focus, and the more I thought about it, the slower time seemed to be passing. On that note, have any of you noticed how time flies by so quickly most of the time? And how when we were little, it almost dragged? Well, anyways, so I was looking at my hand, and then I took the time to look around; I examined the tiny etchings in bark and the patterns on a leaf, etc. In that moment when I wasn't absorbed in my own thoughts, I felt very much like a hunk of flesh, with life beating within that will eventually be extinguished; somehow, when we're immersed in our own minds, death becomes something like the background to all of our trivial thoughts, pain, emotion. We're so busy worrying about some test coming up that we seem to almost forget it (death), and in forgetting death, we lose the value of living. It was a very weird experience, but looking at the freckles on the hand that will someday have no function, I felt very terrified, for the first time, of death. Has there ever been a moment, perhaps on a really bad day, when you think to yourself, "Oh, I'm not afraid of death at all," when really it's just because you're bothering yourself with some trivial inconvenience that is equal on no scale to the horror of death. Seriously, examining death from the point of view of any religion is not a happy activity; take Christianity - you die, you go to Heaven, your loved ones go to Heaven, but relationships and simple being are not supposed to be the same as they are here; so along with a Christian's fear of death would come the fear of the unknown, fear of what is only vaguely described. Now, take Buddhism (or any other religion that favors the theory of reincarnation) - you die, you forget everything you ever knew, and you are born again into a new life (as another person, a squirrel, a tree) until some decisive point when the higher power allows you to pass into a Nirvana (which only applies to some reincarnational beliefs). Notice what I italicized: what is the point of anything we learn, any relationships we develop with others, if they are to be forgotten in the next life - why should we feel triumph when we learn from our mistakes when it is likely that we will make the same mistakes again? Personally, I'm very sentimental, and I cannot stand the thought of parting with my memories, with the love I have felt for people that makes me feel the most alive in my current life. Next, take Nature-ism (can't remember the real word; basically anyone who believes that we are a part of a natural cycle and share a sort of life-death relationship with nature); you die, your soul and being recede into and nourish nature (you become part of a tree or blade of grass), and you follow the natural cycle of nature (you grow, you die, you decompose, you become part of a flower or some other plant). I don't think I need to explain what is so frightening about the idea of existing in tree-form when we've become so used to this human thing. And last, look through the eyes of the aetheist (or pessimistic agnostic); you die, your soul (if you have one) does not go elsewhere, you rot (or sit in an urn somewhere). I don't think that many people want to believe in this, because it is quite depressing; as with reincarnation, there is the same feeling of unimportance if there is no life after this - what is the point of making relationships, loving, feeling happiness, if we're all just going to rot in the end? But anyways, if I just offended anyone with the above examination of death through several perspectives, please forgive me and I'll try not to do it again. My point, however, is that whatever anyone might say, death is a scary thing, and the best way to cherish this life (before we change in being, forget everthing, turn into a tree, or rot) is to go back to our roots and make use of the little-kid philosophy: carpe diem (or seize the day) - seize it, squeeze it, milk it for the gazillion it is worth, because whatever you believe in, you only get this day once, this hour, this minute, and your hand will never look the same against the wood of the desk as it does now. So live and do it now : )

NASDAQ. . .

OK, well, as an introduction: yesterday, my mom and I were driving in the car, and we were talking about economics on the way to this Mexican restaurant. I forget how it came up exactly, but we were discussing the various acronyms that they use to symbolize companies (I think) that are rising and falling. . .And so we came to the realization that neither of us knew what a NASDAQ is. I'm hoping that one of my readers who is actually stock-market-literate will be able to aid us in our quest to find out what a NASDAQ is.

What is a NASDAQ? You hear about it all the time on Marketplace or on the news when they're talking about the stock market (like, "the NASDAQ fell three points today" or something), and I'm afraid to ask my dad, being the banker that he is, because he'll be like "Oh my God, my daughter is hopeless because she doesn't know what a NASDAQ is. . ." So what is a NASDAQ?

Back From the Trip

Which was amazing, by the way. In this post, which will probably take me multiple days to complete, I will include my journal entries for each day of the trip, starting with Sunday and ending with Thursday. I will have to take this blog link away from my myspace now, however, because the persons involved in the tale that I'm about to tell now have access to my myspace and email, and therefore this blog. Enjoy:





Sunday, May 17, 9:15 a.m.


Today we will be boarding the cruise. We've just checked out of the "Clean Stay U.S.A." which was run by a man with a thick Indian accent that was difficult to understand. Shannon probably would have thought that he was hot. The hotel itself was pretty nice; the beds were clean (we had a second floor room) but I found a tick attached to my hip this morning during my shower, which was a vaguely unpleasant surprise. Fortunately, it must not have been there for too long, because I only have a faint bump as evidence of its presence on my hip. Hope was sort of impatient yesterday in the car, asking if "we were there yet" and all that. However, she was occupied with the portable DVD player for most of the ride, so I can't complain. Another bad thing that happened this morning, during the same shower that revealed the tick on my flesh: my hemp necklace (given to me by Sean)'s clasp fell off and the rest of the necklace consequently slipped off my neck as well. I'll have to find a new clasp for it when we get back : (. Anyways, there are a few things I'll need to remember to do. I have to pay attention when we cross the Florida line and pass Orlando (we're still in Georgia). Once we get to the ship, I have to remember to get my camera out so that I can get some pictures from afar and a video from aboard as we sail off. The last thing: I need to find a bottle at some point before we get there so that I can collect some water from the ocean before we board the ship. A year ago, I took some of the ocean water from Sombrero Beach on the Gulf of Mexico, so it's only proper that I add some water from the Eastern side of Florida to my "collection." Anyways, until we get onto the ship, I will stop writing and read some of Anna Karenina.





Monday, May 18, 4:00ish

As I write, I am sitting on the ninth deck of the Disney Wonder, on which there are eleven decks total. Rooms and other locations are described by their deck number and ship placement: frontship, midship, or backship. So far, our stay on this cruise has been nothing short of amazing. Today, we visited the island of Nassau in the Bahamas, and I had my hair braided and beaded by a professional who sort of ripped us off, but the hair came out okay, so it's all right. The vendors who lined the halls of the market would bother people insistently about buying their products.

Yesterday was awesome; after boarding the ship, we changed into swimsuits (Hope and I) and came to the ninth deck to swim. We watched the ship depart around 5:00 from level ten. Hope didn't get to see this, though, because she was afraid of the masked Disney characters who were entertaining the crowd that waited on the top deck for our departure. We ate dinner at a Caribbean restaurant and watched the sunset on the top deck. We also attended a performance titled, "The Golden Mickeys," during which various awards were presented to Disney movies for "Best Villain," "Best friendship," etc. Then, at 10:30 that night, dressed in my blue halter dress and its accompanying gray sweater, I embarked on a rigorous quest to "bounce and wear the golden hat" as Mr. Fitzgerald might say. I went up to level eleven, where a teen party at a section of the ship called Aloft was being held. I read in the program that they would be holding teen parties such as these every night on board, and so I decided to go to check it out. Once there, I sat down with a group of girls who were playing Jenga while everyone was still arriving; I was pleased when I noticed that a nicely-dressed red-shirted young man, whom I had scoped on a few occasions that day in other parts of the ship, had arrived on the scene, along with a younger, blond boy who ended up being his brother (his brother looked a lot like the seventh grader, Logan). The counselors in charge of the night's affairs asked us to come forth and display our talents. When no one initially responded, one of the counselors showed us his ability to walk on his hands, at which point the red-shirted kid (whose name, I think, was Jake) countered with, "Well guess what: I can walk on my feet." When asked to demonstrate this feat, he came to the front and did so with a flourish, to much applause. He then disappeared for about half an hour while he was retrieving his guitar. By the time he had come back, we had moved on to other things, and after we met (when they separated us into groups based on deck level of our overnight rooms, shoe size, birth month, etc.) he sat in the back of the room, tuning his guitar. Later on, during a lull in the counselors' entertainment, he stepped forth with his brother to perform a few songs, and they had talent! Among others, he played "Back in Black," some Guns 'n' Roses, one good Jonas Brothers song that I hadn't heard before ("Hello Beautiful"), and the chorus of "Sweet Home Alabama," which he asked me to come and sing with him, as we both didn't know the other parts of the song. Being the glorious performer that I am, I missed my cue. Alas, it was still a great half hour of music, and when I asked him to do an original from my beanbag, he flashed a grin that rendered me dumbstruck and said, "I'm not going to play you guys any originals, at least not tonight." and I had that weird feeling of being whacked over the head with something, similar to the time a person said, "I love singing," and when yet another person had said, "Can I borrow your pencil?" And then the more recent, "You look beautiful when you play (the piano)," and a more distant, "Sure, I'll come to your party." Anywho, enough reminiscing, and those were the major events of last night.

Tuesday, May 19, Noon

Alas, we have landed on the Disney Island, and yet the weather is rainy and prevents much island activity. Heather is also sick in bed, and will be unable to do anything fun until her strep throat (which is what we think her sickness is) clears up. I'm currently on Deck 9, under a shelter near the 18 and over pool, writing this, enjoying a soda (which was free), and watching the rain.

(It must be added here, because I don't think I explain in a later entry, that the rain did clear up, and my dad and I went onto the island alone to walk around; we ended up renting a bike and viewing the island from these observation points. I also swam in the ocean and collected water from the ocean in a bottle, as I had planned)

Last night was even better than the night before. My dad, Heather, Hope, and I watched this theater production of "Toy Story," and it was really cool. I planned to go up to Aloft afterwards, so we parted and I got into an ascending elevator, where I ran into Jay Gatsby (which will be my name for the hot guy) and his brother Brandon (which will be my name for the hot guy's brother), who (I seem to like repeating this) looks like a mixture of Quaid and Logan. They'd just been to see the musical as well, since, as Mr. Gatsby said, music is "his thing." Once up in Aloft, we asked the counselors who our victims for the Gotcha game were (which was this thing where you were secretly assigned a victim to "kill" by shaking their hand or giving them a high-five or something; once you killed them, they were crossed off the list of living people and you were then assigned to their old victim). I was assigned to some girl I didn't know, and Jay was likely the first person "killed"; it was right after this music trivia game, and a girl asked to high-five him for a good game, to which he complied and consequently "died." Right after this, I found out who was trying to kill me: this big awkward sort of guy, Sean, who sang "Luck be a Lady" on our first night there. He tried to shake my hand directly after Mr. Gatsby's death, so I was like, "No, you're trying to kill me." and os now I know who's after me. After some free smoothies at the bar, we played this dating game, where one person is blindfolded and three potential "suitors" are asked various questions; the blindfolded person chooses the person whose answers they like the best to "date." After a while of doing this, we had a sort of dance party, which fell apart after a while. Eventually, Brandon, Gatsby, three girls (who, I found out, were cousins, the blond of the three dating Brandon), and I went to the beverage machine on Deck 9, had a drink, and loitered around for about half an hour talking. There was this argument about which of two movies (Cinderella or Beauty and the Beast) was the better one; the three girls favored Cinderella, while the rest of us thought otherwise, though Brandon might've been neutral on the topic, as he didn't speak much. They had to go to bed after a while because, for the teen excursion, they were expected to wake up at the ungodly hour of 8:00. They dropped me off at my floor before going up to their's.

Wednesday, May 20, 8:30 p.m. (The last night)

I'm in the Disney theater right now, wearing my black sparkly dress as a sort of farewell flourish on our last night here. I'll be heading up to Aloft later. Last night at Aloft was a bit of a disappointment because Gatsby was being a flake. There was a "pirate party" and he was one of many who dressed for the event and would have put Johnny Depp as Jack Sparrow on a run for his money. However, as I said, he was rather flaky the whole night and ended up leaving in the middle of a movie with this blond girl who looks like a manlier, sulkier version of Angela from "American Beauty," except I can't say anything more about her because she was fairly nice to me. Anyways, we went as a group to watch the fireworks, to this pirate game show thing, and back to Aloft before I left for a walk around the deck in the middle of a crappy Nicholas Cage movie. I then returned to my room and had confused dreams that involved Gatsby and someone closer to home.

Thursday, May 21, 8:30 a.m.

We are now all loaded in the car, and just got my last glimpse of the ship. "It's a Small World After All" happed to be blasting as my dad pulled up in Heather's car and we all got in. Though, because of the events of Tuesday (involving flakiness), I was planning not to attend Aloft last night, I did so anyway, and I am glad I did. I went up straight after the Disney play called, "Dreams," which was awesome. I engaged myself in a game of BS while I waited for Gatsby to arrive, his brother Brandon, and, inevitably, the Angela girl who hangs on Gatsby. They did, eventually, and Gatsby and Angela, and I feared, left together almost immediately. Brandon wandered off shortly after this and I also considered leaving, but decided to stay and participate in a game of movie trivia, which our team won as they did with the music trivia a few nights ago. Following the game, we moved the furniture for karaoke, and I found "Vienna" by Billy Joel and decided to sing it in Shannon's honor. Angela and Brandon came up without Gatsby shortly before I went up to sing, and Gatsby made his appearance in the middle of my song by which point I was into it and jamming (with my eyes closed, swaying back and forth like and drunk and all that). As crazy as it sounds, people were coming up to me after my performance and congratulating me on my "awesome" singing voice. After "Vienna," I sang "Great Balls of Fire" by Jerry Lee Lewis, also to much applause and praise. Brandon came up to me and said I had a nice voice, and high-fived me, consequently "killing" me (it turned out he had killed Sean and I had become his new victim). It was after his compliment that I got cocky; I asked the room at large if anyone wanted to duet with me, and Gatsby and this other guy who sang "Lean on Me" really well said that they would be willing. While Gatsby went up and sang a few numbers, mostly Disney songs from "Aladdin" and "Hercules," and while Sean, the "Luck be a Lady" guy, hogged the microphone and murdered "Jailhouse Rock," the "Lean on Me" guy and I were looking through the list of songs to find a good one to duet on. I picked "L.O.V.E." by Nat King Cole and "Time Warp" but he didn't know these songs, nor did I know any of the songs that he selected. I then went up and sang "L.O.V.E." alone and messed up because other people were singing loudly. Thinking that it would be nice to end my singing contribution with a traditional tune, I submitted a sheet of paper with "Amazing Grace" on it, assuming by this point that no one was going to duet with me. However, as I got up to sing, Gatsby said something like, "Robyn, stop hogging the microphone," joking around. I replied, "I've been trying to, but no one will get up and sing a duet with me." Then he asked me what I was singing, I told him, and he stood up on my right, saying, "All right, I'll sing with you; everyone knows 'Amazing Grace'." Which was sort of funny, becaues about halfway through the song, he messed up a few times, going too high too early, and at the end, he said, "Oh, I guess I don't know 'Amazing Grace' all that well." As we sang, I lost all sense of my surroundings; I couldn't tell you any of the lyrics beyond the first verse. I messed up a few times as well, as his higher voice forced me to accompany an octave higher than was natural for me. He also tried to harmonize, and I made the mistake of trying to follow him, instead of keeping to the melody. Anyways, the important part is that, a verse or so into the song, he came very close, so that our cheeks were pressed together as we sang. I could feel his entire left side against my right, as well as the rocking rhythm of the ship. Someone took a picture, we were singing, and it was over all of a sudden; we whooped into the microphone a couple of times, I thanked him for singing with me, and he replied, "You're welcome. It was awesome." He also inquired if anyone in my family played guitar, because my dad had approached him earlier that day and praised him for carrying around a guitar (this was against my wishes; I sat in a beach chair on the ninth deck, watching from afar and pretending not to be). Gatsby seemed rather flattered, however, that someone like my dad would praise him. After this, we passed around our address books, signed and provided email addresses and phone numbers respectively, and I reminded him that I had yet to hear an original by him, and he smiled. I was going to sing the "Time Warp," but I was too late. They turned off the karaoke machine and put on dancing music. It was about here that Gatsby, Brandon, and most of the girls left, as did I shortly afterwards. I took one last moonlit walk around the ship alone before retiring, feeling that our awesome trip could not have ended better.

News Update and State Lines

Instead of leaving on Sunday, we will be leaving at 6:00 tonight, and in case my blog time is messed up (which I'm pretty sure it is), the time is now 5:11 and I am super-excited!!! We won't be driving the whole way to Cape Canaveral tonight, but I suspect we won't stop until we've reached somewhere in Florida. I've instructed my dad to wake me up when we cross the Georgia and Florida state lines, the Georgia one because the sign that welcomes you to Georgia is so much cooler than all of the other states'. It says: "We're glad that you have Georgia on your mind." which is based off of a Ray Charles song that he wrote about Georgia, or at least I'm pretty sure it is. Basically all other state signs just say: "Welcome to ______." At least the Georgia sign has a history behind it.
I have never been on a cruise before, so I have no clue what to expect; I'll be keeping a written journal through the duration of the trip, in case the ship sinks or something like that (haha just kidding, but I'll probably transfer my entries from there to here once I get back). I got my first pair of sunglasses today during a last minute shopping trip at Walmart for trip supplies. We also got some SPF 80 sunscreen, so hopefully I won't roast.
Anyways, I will report back here later, most likely on Friday, when we get back; for now, I'm going to go color with Hopey and wait for my dad and Heather to wake up.