So this is my first vlog. The fact that it is a little over 8 minutes long disturbs me... but truly, I do talk this much in real life, as all of my friends will attest to. I just have to -explain- things. Which takes a long time. A very, very long time. So, honestly, I'm not even expecting anyone to watch it. I more made it for my own amusement so I could laugh at the strange faces I make while I talk. But feel free to watch it if you like.
List of words:
Aunt, Route, Wash, Oil, Theater, Iron, Salmon, Caramel, Fire, Water, Sure, Data, Ruin, Crayon, Toilet, New Orleans, Pecan, Both, Again, Probably, Spitting image, Alabama, Lawyer, Coupon, Mayonnaise, Syrup, Pajamas, Caught
And here are the questions:
What is it called when you throw toilet paper on a house?
What is the bug that when you touch it, it curls into a ball?
What is the bubbly carbonated drink called?
What do you call gym shoes?
What do you say to address a group of people?
What do you call the kind of spider that has an oval-shaped body and extremely long legs?
What do you call your grandparents?
What do you call the wheeled contraption in which you carry groceries at the supermarket?
What do you call it when rain falls while the sun is shining?
What is the thing you change the TV channel with?
So feel free to do a vlog. I challenge you to make it longer than mine was.... maybe someone out there is as big of a talker as I am? Please tell me that is the case?
Oh, and feel free to tell me if you think I said anything wrong (which, I didn't, of course ;) and also if you think I have an accent.
Here is Brianne's vlog which is much shorter and much better than mine.
Monday, May 16, 2011
Thursday, May 12, 2011
{deeper go the days than ever art can capture}
"I tend to see beauty in things people see as very normal. I see great beauty in Converse. In a laugh. I see beauty in words on a page. I see beauty in a smile from a stranger. I see beauty in a local coffee house. I see beauty in paintings. I see beauty from the wise eyes of an older person. I see beauty in tears needing to be shed. I see beauty in dogs tracking mud in the house. I see beauty in one unexpected snowflake falling. I see beauty in confidence. I see beauty in old hand knit blankets. I see beauty in sun shining on a wood floor. And when people fail to see all that beauty... what's the point in breathing in and out everyday? I hope I never stray too far away from this beauty that is constantly in front of my face. I think my ability to see common things as beautiful is part of what makes me so generally happy. When you skip over a hand made present from God, you skip over a lot of peace. A lot of joy. 'Deeper go the joys we know than words we find to show
them. Deeper go the days we know than ever art can capture. The raptures and the reveries no language can contain. Our hearts are moved in simple ways - a sunset or a season; what we feel we can't reveal, no matter how we've tried.' Those are parts of a song I was listening to today that I've heard hundreds of times, and yet never heard. It expresses how I feel about my life. I can't express the beauty - the simple beauty - I see in life. I may not be the most talented person ever. I may not be the most beautiful person ever. I may not be able to sing or act or draw. But something I can do that I don't think many people are gifted with: I can see beauty like few people can. Every person can see beauty. But not many people can see beauty in things that aren't necessarily beautiful. There is beauty in tears and hard times. And through this beauty I find much joy. God has blessed us with this beauty. And I find joy in that. Deeper go the days than ever art can capture. What we feel we can't reveal no matter how we've tried."~An excerpt from my journal
Saturday, May 7, 2011
For the Love of Old Books
Recently I was shopping in a conference for some good finds on books, and in the very back of this conference, there was a little nookish looking booth that sold old books. There was everything from rare, expensive first editions of books to newer books. Mostly there were in between books. But there were some rare finds that I only wished I had the money for. There were some rare old editions of Pride and Prejudice from 1909 for about $45. I only wished I had the money to buy the precious books containing one of the most beloved stories of all time. There was also a first American edition of Til We Have Faces, by Lewis, but if I recall, that one was $60 or so. But even though I didn't have the money to buy the old, rare books, there was something about just holding them. You could hold them, and feel the crackle of the binding and feel the rough old pages rubbing against your fingers. There is something about just feeling a boo
k that seems to bring you back to the first person who once held the book. I love to think of a little Victorian girl primly and properly holding the book sitting up politely in a chair in a sitting room or sitting out on a big lawn drinking in the words of the books. And who knows who have held the books and where the books have been since they were first printed and sold to where they were then: sitting on a shelf just waiting to be taken up by a new owner to be read and loved.As for myself, I found a few treasures. Not many, but oh the joy of finding even a few to put on your shelf and to pick out and read over and over again. I bought three older books and then one newer book. But the newer book seems just as delightful as the older ones; it's a Robert Frost poetry book, but it's not just any Robert Frost book. Inside it there are the poems along with beautiful black and white photos of landscapes, people, animals... many of the pictures have snow in them, and most of them appear to have been taken in New England. It's a beautiful, beautiful book that I have a feeling will be a favorite of mine. The older books not only have the treasures of the stories in them, but the inscriptions in the front cover are the best. One of the ones that I think will probably be my favorite out of the three is called The Scottish Chiefs. On the inside there is a beautiful, cursive inscription that reads, "Christmas Present From Marl and Minnie to Their Father 1902"
Apparently it's a relatively scarce and early edition of the book. It's about William Wallace, and I can say with great certainty that Scotland is my favorite country in the world, so I know I will enjoy the story. There's something almost romantic about the old Scottish people, who were seen as barbaric but were so filled with patriotism. Just looking at the book I can imagine myself getting lost in the words of the story and being transported back to the time of Wallace. Because it's not just a story or any book. It's an old book, which seems to transport me back in time in the first place. Another book I found is entitled Riley Songs of Friendship. It appeared to be a rather random book, but it's really very neat. It's by an Indiana poet, but the pictures and poems inside are beautiful, and I absolutely adored the simple, clean words. The inscription on the front cover of this book says, "To Stuart from Laura Christmas 1916" This book was beautiful, and I couldn't pass it up. The other book I bought was The Screwtape Letters. Okay, yeah, it's a relatively common book, but the inscription and the little treasure that was in it was incredibly delightful and honestly had me nearly giggling I was so excited. Not only is the inscription absolutely the sweetest thing ever.... it's in French. Does it get much better? In the front it says "Madeline [what appears to be] Parlier Hill from 
[a French name I can't read] avec toute ma tendresse December 28, 1949" And the French inscription means "with all my tenderness." Cute much? Gah. Old books. And then in the middle of the book I found the treasure. This is what I truly loves about old books - you find little things in between the pages you never would have expected. In the middle I found a Beatrix Potter post card from Britain, and then on the back there is a note written in French. It appears that it says something like, "Have a good time in Meadows ---" The last word I can't tell what it says because it's so smudged up. And the book itself just has a nice feel to it. The fact that it's a relatively early edition of a C.S. Lewis book makes me dreadfully delighted, as he is definitely one of my top authors.What I love about older books is they're all different. When you walk into a Barnes & Noble or Books-A-Million, all the books are the same. They're all new. None of them have had an owner, and they're all brand new and barely touched. But old books - they all carry a different story. They seem to walk a path of life all their own. No, books can't think, feel, or anything of the like. But the book seems to carry two stories - one, which is the obvious - the story it tells. The second, not so obvious, the story it has "lived." Books have been so many different places, been held by so many different people. Some of the books could have lost their owner by being lent out, or by being left in an airport, or some other strange circumstance; and then was picked up by a new owner. They've probably been held by hundreds of people. And then you have to wonder - what made the person, the very first owner, buy the book in the first place? When I start thinking about all these stories, it makes me feel special not only to have these old books, but also to own new books from the bookstore. Because I'm the person starting the story of all of these books, and these books could last for centuries, and one day end up being sold for a hundred dollars because they're rare. And that thought is indeed an intriguing one.
And after typing this all out, I feel like going down to the coffee shop and sitting down on one of the couches in a little cranny and reading one of these books from cover to cover. The things that books will do to you....
"Find a girl who reads. You'll know that she does because she will always have an unread book in her bag. She's the one lovingly looking over the shelves in the bookstore, the one who quietly cries out when she finds the book she wants. You see the weird chick sniffing the pages of an old book in a second hand book shop?
That's the reader.
They can never resist smelling the pages,
especially when they are yellow."
{excerpt from The Monica Bird}
That's the reader.
They can never resist smelling the pages,
especially when they are yellow."
{excerpt from The Monica Bird}
Monday, May 2, 2011
{music is the poetry of the air}
Okay, honestly, I promise this is the last post on piano that I'll do for a while. But today was my final piano performance for my sophomore year... and it was intense. It was my recital. And although it seems as if recitals would be a little more relaxed than competitions... eh, not really. Everyone is terrified. Shaking. Shifting from side to side wishing it was all over. Recitals tend to be that way. And then once it's all over you're overjoyed and birds are singing and the world is rejoicing and singing the Hallelujah Chorus. No joke.
It all began this morning. I woke up at seven feeling awful and nervous and was nearly shaking I was so nervous. Yes.... I get nervous and shaky up to 12 hours before I supposed to play. Pitiful, I know, but that's just me. I got up a little bit later, but didn't start practicing until about 12. After that it was on and off playing until it was time to leave. There I was, all fancied up for the recital (prom dress and all. My recitals are pretty legit), and trying to choke down a chicken salad. You see, I can barely ever eat when I'm nervous. It makes me feel even more nervous, and then it makes me feel sick. But I managed to actually eat, and then I went and played a little bit before we left. I was sounding great. That is, until the last two times I ran through my Moszkowski etude. It was pretty bad. In fact, it nearly sounded awful. So I was awfully nervous and all sorts of horrible things that could happen were running through my head. But off to the music hall at the local college we went. Once we got there, I got to sit with my buddies Nick and Barret (best pianists evverrr). Barret and I mused over how we hated being so late in the recital. I was 12th out of 16, and Barret was right after me. Nick picked on me horribly. Apparently he likes making people feel ten times more nervous than they already are. But all the same, he made me laugh in the process so maybe it balanced out...? Anyway, soon enough the recital was under way, and hearts started racing. My teacher had some of the most talented students play a Beethoven sonata, each student playing a different movement. After that there were all the adorable kids who show off and are so proud of themselves. And -then- it happens. People start playing your level music. And they're all playing it perfectly. Which puts you under even more pressure because then you feel like you have to do at least as well, preferably better.
About half way through, Nick played. The way he plays music is basically out of this world. The last piece he played was so good it had me nearly in fits of joyful giggles 'cause it was such a frolicsome piece. But as he stepped down, it hit me like a baseball in the head (which trust me is not loads of fun.... it's happened to me before). I realized only three more girls were going to go, and then it would be my turn. Oh joy. Suddenly it occurred to me that getting a fever and throwing up or having a seizure would be incredibly convenient. But, as always, those kinds of things don't happen when they're terribly convenient. The three girls went. The last girl was quite good, but me? I could barely pay attention. Nerves. Shaky hands. Feeling like I might even possibly DIE because of the stress. Okay. It wasn't that bad. But nonetheless, I was nervous. I was praying really hard. And I told myself as she was stepping down that it was my turn to show everyone what kind of talent I got. Whooo. Go me. Feel the excitement. Can I die now? Yeah. I really hate playing for people if you didn't catch my drift.
I got up there. I sat down. I adjusted my dress, my bench... and then it was time to play. I played Soft Lights first (yeah, the piece that I played for Festival and those two other competitions). Of course that one doesn't really scare me, but all the same, I was shaking. Legs, arms, hands, -everything- was shaking. Thankfully it wasn't visible but trust me, it was occurring. That piece went fine. I don't remember any particular slip ups, so it was fine. But then came my nemesis. I had mostly got it down, but if you recall from about ten paragraphs up (yeah, I talk a lot. Blogger is handy in that respect), I had played it pretty badly before I left for the recital. But I began playing. And I was playing. And not messing up. And there were people out there watching me not mess up. Yeessss. Success much! I kept playing and playing. Only on the third page did I make my first very minor mistake. And then on the last page I made a very weird mistake that I don't ever recall having made. I forgot the notes. I made something up. It sounded bad but hopefully not too noticeable. And then continued. And from there it went perfectly. I played it nearly perfectly! If you've been around me at all, you have probably heard me say that while I was walking down I was seriously restraining myself from bursting into a random Irish jig. I was so delighted that it was over and I no longer had to worry about it or think about it or be nervous about it or practice for hours on end to get ready for it.
In fact, I was so joyful I was like a little kid the rest of the recital. I could barely pay attention to anything. Sure, I listened to the music and enjoyed it immensely, but there's nothing like the feeling of finishing something that you've been dreading for weeks. After I went, Barret went... and he blew me away. It is very, very, very rare that someone will make me smile nearly the whole time they're playing. Barret has that unusual talent of making me do that. I'm completely serious when I say at one point I honestly could not see his hands. They were moving so fast that I couldn't tell which was which or what they were doing. All I knew is this incredible sound was coming from the notes he was playing. When he began I was already delighted enough that I was done. But by the time he was done I was completely ready to squeal and giggle and laugh. Have you picked up on the fact I was (and still am) completely hyper and giggly and gleeful? Of course you haven't. Hah.
Anyway, the rest of the students who played were knock-out good. It's rare that you go to a recital and you feel like you're in a world-class concert.
After the recital was cake and punch and happiness all around. Good stuff. Also, I was terribly excited because I think I had at least 4 or 5 people compliment me on my expression in the way I play. Which made me oh-so-delighted because one of my former teachers used to tell me over and over that I needed to add more expression to the way I play. And voila! After much practice, I can finally do it.
And below, you may view my performance, if you'd like.
P.S. Congratulations if you actually read this whole post that was posted completely out of the remaining hyperness that was left in me after finishing my recital. I respect you for having such endurance.
It all began this morning. I woke up at seven feeling awful and nervous and was nearly shaking I was so nervous. Yes.... I get nervous and shaky up to 12 hours before I supposed to play. Pitiful, I know, but that's just me. I got up a little bit later, but didn't start practicing until about 12. After that it was on and off playing until it was time to leave. There I was, all fancied up for the recital (prom dress and all. My recitals are pretty legit), and trying to choke down a chicken salad. You see, I can barely ever eat when I'm nervous. It makes me feel even more nervous, and then it makes me feel sick. But I managed to actually eat, and then I went and played a little bit before we left. I was sounding great. That is, until the last two times I ran through my Moszkowski etude. It was pretty bad. In fact, it nearly sounded awful. So I was awfully nervous and all sorts of horrible things that could happen were running through my head. But off to the music hall at the local college we went. Once we got there, I got to sit with my buddies Nick and Barret (best pianists evverrr). Barret and I mused over how we hated being so late in the recital. I was 12th out of 16, and Barret was right after me. Nick picked on me horribly. Apparently he likes making people feel ten times more nervous than they already are. But all the same, he made me laugh in the process so maybe it balanced out...? Anyway, soon enough the recital was under way, and hearts started racing. My teacher had some of the most talented students play a Beethoven sonata, each student playing a different movement. After that there were all the adorable kids who show off and are so proud of themselves. And -then- it happens. People start playing your level music. And they're all playing it perfectly. Which puts you under even more pressure because then you feel like you have to do at least as well, preferably better.
About half way through, Nick played. The way he plays music is basically out of this world. The last piece he played was so good it had me nearly in fits of joyful giggles 'cause it was such a frolicsome piece. But as he stepped down, it hit me like a baseball in the head (which trust me is not loads of fun.... it's happened to me before). I realized only three more girls were going to go, and then it would be my turn. Oh joy. Suddenly it occurred to me that getting a fever and throwing up or having a seizure would be incredibly convenient. But, as always, those kinds of things don't happen when they're terribly convenient. The three girls went. The last girl was quite good, but me? I could barely pay attention. Nerves. Shaky hands. Feeling like I might even possibly DIE because of the stress. Okay. It wasn't that bad. But nonetheless, I was nervous. I was praying really hard. And I told myself as she was stepping down that it was my turn to show everyone what kind of talent I got. Whooo. Go me. Feel the excitement. Can I die now? Yeah. I really hate playing for people if you didn't catch my drift.
I got up there. I sat down. I adjusted my dress, my bench... and then it was time to play. I played Soft Lights first (yeah, the piece that I played for Festival and those two other competitions). Of course that one doesn't really scare me, but all the same, I was shaking. Legs, arms, hands, -everything- was shaking. Thankfully it wasn't visible but trust me, it was occurring. That piece went fine. I don't remember any particular slip ups, so it was fine. But then came my nemesis. I had mostly got it down, but if you recall from about ten paragraphs up (yeah, I talk a lot. Blogger is handy in that respect), I had played it pretty badly before I left for the recital. But I began playing. And I was playing. And not messing up. And there were people out there watching me not mess up. Yeessss. Success much! I kept playing and playing. Only on the third page did I make my first very minor mistake. And then on the last page I made a very weird mistake that I don't ever recall having made. I forgot the notes. I made something up. It sounded bad but hopefully not too noticeable. And then continued. And from there it went perfectly. I played it nearly perfectly! If you've been around me at all, you have probably heard me say that while I was walking down I was seriously restraining myself from bursting into a random Irish jig. I was so delighted that it was over and I no longer had to worry about it or think about it or be nervous about it or practice for hours on end to get ready for it.
In fact, I was so joyful I was like a little kid the rest of the recital. I could barely pay attention to anything. Sure, I listened to the music and enjoyed it immensely, but there's nothing like the feeling of finishing something that you've been dreading for weeks. After I went, Barret went... and he blew me away. It is very, very, very rare that someone will make me smile nearly the whole time they're playing. Barret has that unusual talent of making me do that. I'm completely serious when I say at one point I honestly could not see his hands. They were moving so fast that I couldn't tell which was which or what they were doing. All I knew is this incredible sound was coming from the notes he was playing. When he began I was already delighted enough that I was done. But by the time he was done I was completely ready to squeal and giggle and laugh. Have you picked up on the fact I was (and still am) completely hyper and giggly and gleeful? Of course you haven't. Hah.
Anyway, the rest of the students who played were knock-out good. It's rare that you go to a recital and you feel like you're in a world-class concert.
After the recital was cake and punch and happiness all around. Good stuff. Also, I was terribly excited because I think I had at least 4 or 5 people compliment me on my expression in the way I play. Which made me oh-so-delighted because one of my former teachers used to tell me over and over that I needed to add more expression to the way I play. And voila! After much practice, I can finally do it.
And below, you may view my performance, if you'd like.
P.S. Congratulations if you actually read this whole post that was posted completely out of the remaining hyperness that was left in me after finishing my recital. I respect you for having such endurance.
Tuesday, April 26, 2011
True Tales of a Home Schooler
Yes, I'm an honest to goodness, bona fide home schooler. I won't deny it. I'm actually quite proud of being a home schooler. Probably most of the people reading this won't have any weird misconceptions of home schoolers, which is a good thing, because many people still think all home schoolers are nerdy, unsocialized, don't have any friends, and wear jean jumpers every day. And although I suppose there is a very, very small percentage of home schoolers like that, that doesn't mean it's the majority of them.
I most definitely have my nerdy side, but I can even more assuredly say I am one of the most socialized human beings on this green earth. I suppose I should give examples of both of my sides - my somewhat nerdy, I'm-so-intelligent home schooler side, and my socialized, well-rounded side, that can easily be compared with someone who goes to any regular private school.
My nerdy side - So. I do have a nerdy side. A very, very nerdy side. I don't know how "nerdy" most people would consider this, but I actually love doing school and I love learning. I read Dickens and Bronte for fun. I know how to knit, and even have a hand-knit sweater in my closet {yes, I knit it myself}. The other day I wrote a paper on meristematic tissue and studied the life of William Pitt and his reconstruction of British finances in the 1700s. Oh. And I enjoyed that too. I'm trying to convince my mom to let me do 3 AP classes next year: AP US Government, AP English Literature and Composition, and AP Psychology. And of course, lots of people think moms just dish out As to their kids. Well, first, that's definitely not true of my mom, nor most moms. And just for proof, I take an online class where my parents have no affect on my grade, and I get good grades in that.
For more proof of my nerdy-ness, I suppose it would be wise to examine my conversations with people. The other day I asked a couple of my friends if they could be any woman from the Shakespeare plays, which one would they be? (of course, they both said not Lady Macbeth. I chose Beatrice) I'm also the grammar queen around here. If anyone on Facebook uses bad grammar or spells something wrong, I cringe. I also have somewhat of a reputation for correcting people in their pronunciation, spelling, grammar, etc. You can regularly find me giving lectures to people on whether or not to use the word "affect" or "effect". And of course, I like using big words that most people don't know in normal conversation. Call me nerdy. I prefer verbose.
My not so nerdy side - To be honest, my not so nerdy side will probably be more full of facts than my nerdy side. But there are so many things that are not nerdy about me, it's not funny. For one thing, I actually wear fashionable clothes. And I don't wear culottes, nor do I wear straight denim skirts that go to the floor. In fact, I actually wear Aeropostale and American Eagle clothes all the time. I wear high heels (not sneakers, as is the stereotype with home schoolers). Oh, and for even more proof of my non-nerdy side - I went to prom a few weeks ago. With my boyfriend. Oh my gosh. Who would have ever guessed the secret lives home schoolers lead? I have competed in piano competitions (as most of you know if you've been reading my blog for very long), I go out to see movies with my friends, I go to a church with a big youth group and know lots of people there (yes, even private schoolers and public schoolers). I go up to the state capital a good bit, and yeah, sometimes just to chill out with friends. I'm friends with people from three years old up to people in their 80s. And if you don't consider that socialized, I don't know what the heck "socialized" means. I listen to all kinds of music that "regular" people (as you would refer to them) listen to. So, in general, you could refer to me as a relatively normal person. I do things that other people do. I travel places, I have hobbies, I have friends of all ages (and yes, plenty of friends my age, just for the record), I wear normal clothes, I go to the movies, I go to the mall - though I must admit the bookstore is my most frequented place, and guess what! I've even been in the newspaper several times! I do normal things. Because home schoolers are not aliens from another galaxy.
So all in all, you really can't accuse me or about 99% of home schoolers as being unsocialized nerds.
And THAT. Is all I have to say on the subject of home schooling. For now.
I most definitely have my nerdy side, but I can even more assuredly say I am one of the most socialized human beings on this green earth. I suppose I should give examples of both of my sides - my somewhat nerdy, I'm-so-intelligent home schooler side, and my socialized, well-rounded side, that can easily be compared with someone who goes to any regular private school.
My nerdy side - So. I do have a nerdy side. A very, very nerdy side. I don't know how "nerdy" most people would consider this, but I actually love doing school and I love learning. I read Dickens and Bronte for fun. I know how to knit, and even have a hand-knit sweater in my closet {yes, I knit it myself}. The other day I wrote a paper on meristematic tissue and studied the life of William Pitt and his reconstruction of British finances in the 1700s. Oh. And I enjoyed that too. I'm trying to convince my mom to let me do 3 AP classes next year: AP US Government, AP English Literature and Composition, and AP Psychology. And of course, lots of people think moms just dish out As to their kids. Well, first, that's definitely not true of my mom, nor most moms. And just for proof, I take an online class where my parents have no affect on my grade, and I get good grades in that.For more proof of my nerdy-ness, I suppose it would be wise to examine my conversations with people. The other day I asked a couple of my friends if they could be any woman from the Shakespeare plays, which one would they be? (of course, they both said not Lady Macbeth. I chose Beatrice) I'm also the grammar queen around here. If anyone on Facebook uses bad grammar or spells something wrong, I cringe. I also have somewhat of a reputation for correcting people in their pronunciation, spelling, grammar, etc. You can regularly find me giving lectures to people on whether or not to use the word "affect" or "effect". And of course, I like using big words that most people don't know in normal conversation. Call me nerdy. I prefer verbose.
My not so nerdy side - To be honest, my not so nerdy side will probably be more full of facts than my nerdy side. But there are so many things that are not nerdy about me, it's not funny. For one thing, I actually wear fashionable clothes. And I don't wear culottes, nor do I wear straight denim skirts that go to the floor. In fact, I actually wear Aeropostale and American Eagle clothes all the time. I wear high heels (not sneakers, as is the stereotype with home schoolers). Oh, and for even more proof of my non-nerdy side - I went to prom a few weeks ago. With my boyfriend. Oh my gosh. Who would have ever guessed the secret lives home schoolers lead? I have competed in piano competitions (as most of you know if you've been reading my blog for very long), I go out to see movies with my friends, I go to a church with a big youth group and know lots of people there (yes, even private schoolers and public schoolers). I go up to the state capital a good bit, and yeah, sometimes just to chill out with friends. I'm friends with people from three years old up to people in their 80s. And if you don't consider that socialized, I don't know what the heck "socialized" means. I listen to all kinds of music that "regular" people (as you would refer to them) listen to. So, in general, you could refer to me as a relatively normal person. I do things that other people do. I travel places, I have hobbies, I have friends of all ages (and yes, plenty of friends my age, just for the record), I wear normal clothes, I go to the movies, I go to the mall - though I must admit the bookstore is my most frequented place, and guess what! I've even been in the newspaper several times! I do normal things. Because home schoolers are not aliens from another galaxy.So all in all, you really can't accuse me or about 99% of home schoolers as being unsocialized nerds.
And THAT. Is all I have to say on the subject of home schooling. For now.
Sunday, April 24, 2011
Christ is Risen
But the angel said to the women, "Do not be afraid,
for I know that you seek Jesus
Who was crucified.
He is not here,
for He has risen, as He said."
Who was crucified.
He is not here,
for He has risen, as He said."
Happy Easter everyone! I have been so joyful today as I remember that Christ is risen indeed. And we have full assurance that we can have life through Him. Today is the most important day on the calendar, because it is the day we remember we have salvation that we never could have gained ourselves.
This day is especially important because, as Paul said, if Jesus had just died, and not risen, we would have no assurance of faith. Paul said in 1 Corinthians 15:17-19, "And if Christ has not been raised, your faith is futile and you are still in your sins. Then those also who have fallen asleep in Christ have perished. If in Christ we have hope in this life only, we are of all people most to be pitied." But then Paul goes on to say in verse 20, "But in fact Christ has been raised from the dead." Therefore, we have assurance of salvation. Christ is risen, just as He said.
This day is especially important because, as Paul said, if Jesus had just died, and not risen, we would have no assurance of faith. Paul said in 1 Corinthians 15:17-19, "And if Christ has not been raised, your faith is futile and you are still in your sins. Then those also who have fallen asleep in Christ have perished. If in Christ we have hope in this life only, we are of all people most to be pitied." But then Paul goes on to say in verse 20, "But in fact Christ has been raised from the dead." Therefore, we have assurance of salvation. Christ is risen, just as He said.
He poured out His soul to death
and was numbered with the transgressors;
yet He bore the sins
of many
and makes intercession for the transgressors.
Isaiah 53:12
and was numbered with the transgressors;
yet He bore the sins
of many
and makes intercession for the transgressors.
Isaiah 53:12
Shout for joy to God, all the earth;
sing the glory of His name;
give to Him glorious praise!
Psalm 66:1-2
sing the glory of His name;
give to Him glorious praise!
Psalm 66:1-2
Saturday, April 9, 2011
Prom 2011
Last night was prom. And at the least, it was an adventure.....
So it all began about 8 yesterday morning when I got up. Since I had nothing to do but wait, I figured school wasn't a bad idea, so I went ahead and did a few things on that. But then, at 12:30, the party began. I went and got my hair done
by my hair dresser, Kiersten. I did a braid across the front, which pulled around to the updo in the back. It was really cute... although the teasing part of it was kind of painful. After I was done with my hair, my cousin, Macy, got her hair done. She drove me home just in time to have my other friend, Marina, come over and get ready with us. Our discussion consisted of very promish topics. Specifically, "Oh my gosh, which eye shadow should I wear? Oh my gosh, your eyeliner is so pretty! Hmm.... should I put more foundation on?" That is the girls that we are.... and when you're getting ready for prom, that is the kind of thing you have to talk about, ya know?
Marina left about 4:20 or so, and then my boyfriend, Daniel, came and picked me up about 4:30ish.
He gave me my flowers and I tried pinning on his boutonniere... and failed miserably. It either twisted or fell off at least two or three times that night. His little sisters and mom came inside too to see me. Gahh his little sisters are such cuties. After a couple of minutes, me, Daniel, my mom, and my brother Spencer went to go pick up Spencer's date, Mary Helen. After that it was off to our church to go get pictures. Our church is really big and has a ton of nice places to go get pictures at... specifically a little pond by the church with a lot of pathways back there. It's so beautiful, and I absolutely love the spot. Last year we had a group of 6, so we took a lot of time doing different groups... dates, family pictures, individual shots... well -this- year we had 14 people. So we threw the dates up there on the steps, took some pictures, ran them off and dragged the next couple up there. We were trying to get done before we had to run off to get to the restaurant. We took couple shots and a big group shot, and then we were off to Carrabba's to eat supper. I've only eaten there once, and I only remember it being okay. But it was amazing this time. We had a table by the window, we had an awesome waitress, and the food was incredible. I sat at one end of the table with Daniel and Macy and her date, Taylor. We mostly talked about... ah... let's see.... the bratty neighbor I used to have, tomatoes, Taylor's awesome purple
tie..... things like that. And of course, at least once over the course of dinner all the girls have to go back to the bathroom to get pictures and talk. I mean. That's just a ritual among us girls. You just do it, because that's what you've always done. But what is -so- utterly hilarious is when you're walking past and every human being there is staring a hole through you. I didn't pass by one table where the people didn't stare at us the whole time we were passing. The second we got into the bathroom, we were in fits of laughter.... it's really quite difficult to not laugh when all these people are staring at you. We got pictures of hair, touched our makeup up, had several women walk in and tell us we looked gorgeous.... the typical routine. So that was our general experience at Carrabba's.
After we finished eating, we went to the cute little local coffee shop I talked about a few weeks ago. We were all schnazzy walking in with our prom dresses and suits. We all got some coffee and/or desserts, and sat down and talked for a little bit. Everything was going great. Everything was fantastic. -Until-...... we decided it was time to leave. You see, my dad had been driving us around, and he was outside waiting for us to get
ready to leave. So I was walking outside to tell him we were ready to leave. It was a pull door, and I had a lot of stuff in my hands, which included a nearly full cup of coffee. Oh joy. I couldn't open it, so I pulled it harder. And there it went. Coffee straight down my prom dress. Not just a couple of spots. A huge streak dripping down my dress. ~sigh~ What I get for being stupid. Anyway, I told my dad we were ready, went back inside, and showed Holly my dress. My brother was already off getting napkins for me to dry it up with... but I was still very unhappy about the predicament. We drove over to the beautiful ballroom where we have prom at every year. I walked in and complained to anyone who would listen that I had spilled coffee down my dress. Thankfully it was dark in the room, and it fell on a crease, so it looked like a shadow, even in the light.
[our schnazzy group.... from left to right, back row: Sarah, Spencer, Taylor, Drew, Steven, Daniel, and Josh.
From left to right, front row: Mary Helen, Macy, Holly, Charity, me, Alana, and Rachel]
Once we got there, the party started. Literally. When Steven (Daniel's older brother) walked into the room, everyone started cheering. He's only that awesome. We started dancing and having the time of our lives. It was so nice to have all of my friends there, and to be able to have some crazy awesome dancing going on. Really there isn't much to say about the first 45 minutes or so... we just danced like cra
zy. I thought I was going to have a heart attack a couple of times, 'cause every time I was about to get off the dance floor, either I heard a song I knew and -had- to dance to it, or someone would ask me to dance. Gosh. But it was so much fun, I didn't care. Although I did have one minor mishap. In the middle of one dance I was in a group dancing, and my bracelet just fell off. Well, no big deal, I thought, I can latch it back together. I thought the little latch had come undone, and I thought I could fix it. But when I picked it up, I found it had broken in the middle for no reason whatsoever. By that time, I was a little less than happy. Coffee on my dress. Bracelet broken. I figured the night would go down hill from there.... thankfully, though, I was unmistakably wrong.
Finally they had the senior lead out, which was so sad this year, having all of these people I knew graduating. It was sad, and yet I was so happy for them too. After the senior dance, we all went back on the floor dancing even more than before. I danced with a bunch of my girlfriends, and with 7 or 8 of my guy friends. It was loads of fun. I can't really describe much that happened because it was all a big blur. I remember some particular dances, but generally all I remember is just being with everyone and having a joyful time. <3 Although I do remember doing the hokie pokie. And a Green Day song where four of my friends went up on the stage and played air guitar, bass, drums, and did some lip-syncing. The DJ had awesome music, in general. Except when he played Friday. I'd say about
90% of the kids left the dance floor the second the song came on. What was hilarious is the DJ must have been playing it off of an iPhone or something, because there was a huge beep in the middle of the song (probably a text message) which stopped it. Everyone cheered and immediately went back on the floor. Of course there are plenty of songs that home schoolers don't listen to... -wink- but since your dancing you usually don't pay attention to the lyrics. Thankfully. The only other song I can complain about was when I was dancing with my friend Joel, and it was talking about this guy killing himself.... it was so morbid and both of us were cracking up.
All I can say is it was an awesometastic prom, ten thousand times better than last year, even though last year was amazing too.
After we finished prom, we had an after prom breakfast at our house, as usual, and sat around and ate junk food. I could tell I was really, really tired by the end of it, because I was laughing hysterically at things that I usually think are stupid or annoying. Of course, it was about 1:30 in the morning and I had danced for nearly 3 hours straight, so it's somewhat understandable. Soon... too soon for my taste, everyone left, and prom for 2011 was over. Which made me sad, but it was so much fun I almost didn't care it was over. I have so many amazing memories from this year.
So that was prom from this year, and a fantastic one at that. I don't know how my junior or senior years will be able to top this year. This year was boss.
So it all began about 8 yesterday morning when I got up. Since I had nothing to do but wait, I figured school wasn't a bad idea, so I went ahead and did a few things on that. But then, at 12:30, the party began. I went and got my hair done
by my hair dresser, Kiersten. I did a braid across the front, which pulled around to the updo in the back. It was really cute... although the teasing part of it was kind of painful. After I was done with my hair, my cousin, Macy, got her hair done. She drove me home just in time to have my other friend, Marina, come over and get ready with us. Our discussion consisted of very promish topics. Specifically, "Oh my gosh, which eye shadow should I wear? Oh my gosh, your eyeliner is so pretty! Hmm.... should I put more foundation on?" That is the girls that we are.... and when you're getting ready for prom, that is the kind of thing you have to talk about, ya know?Marina left about 4:20 or so, and then my boyfriend, Daniel, came and picked me up about 4:30ish.
He gave me my flowers and I tried pinning on his boutonniere... and failed miserably. It either twisted or fell off at least two or three times that night. His little sisters and mom came inside too to see me. Gahh his little sisters are such cuties. After a couple of minutes, me, Daniel, my mom, and my brother Spencer went to go pick up Spencer's date, Mary Helen. After that it was off to our church to go get pictures. Our church is really big and has a ton of nice places to go get pictures at... specifically a little pond by the church with a lot of pathways back there. It's so beautiful, and I absolutely love the spot. Last year we had a group of 6, so we took a lot of time doing different groups... dates, family pictures, individual shots... well -this- year we had 14 people. So we threw the dates up there on the steps, took some pictures, ran them off and dragged the next couple up there. We were trying to get done before we had to run off to get to the restaurant. We took couple shots and a big group shot, and then we were off to Carrabba's to eat supper. I've only eaten there once, and I only remember it being okay. But it was amazing this time. We had a table by the window, we had an awesome waitress, and the food was incredible. I sat at one end of the table with Daniel and Macy and her date, Taylor. We mostly talked about... ah... let's see.... the bratty neighbor I used to have, tomatoes, Taylor's awesome purple
tie..... things like that. And of course, at least once over the course of dinner all the girls have to go back to the bathroom to get pictures and talk. I mean. That's just a ritual among us girls. You just do it, because that's what you've always done. But what is -so- utterly hilarious is when you're walking past and every human being there is staring a hole through you. I didn't pass by one table where the people didn't stare at us the whole time we were passing. The second we got into the bathroom, we were in fits of laughter.... it's really quite difficult to not laugh when all these people are staring at you. We got pictures of hair, touched our makeup up, had several women walk in and tell us we looked gorgeous.... the typical routine. So that was our general experience at Carrabba's.After we finished eating, we went to the cute little local coffee shop I talked about a few weeks ago. We were all schnazzy walking in with our prom dresses and suits. We all got some coffee and/or desserts, and sat down and talked for a little bit. Everything was going great. Everything was fantastic. -Until-...... we decided it was time to leave. You see, my dad had been driving us around, and he was outside waiting for us to get
ready to leave. So I was walking outside to tell him we were ready to leave. It was a pull door, and I had a lot of stuff in my hands, which included a nearly full cup of coffee. Oh joy. I couldn't open it, so I pulled it harder. And there it went. Coffee straight down my prom dress. Not just a couple of spots. A huge streak dripping down my dress. ~sigh~ What I get for being stupid. Anyway, I told my dad we were ready, went back inside, and showed Holly my dress. My brother was already off getting napkins for me to dry it up with... but I was still very unhappy about the predicament. We drove over to the beautiful ballroom where we have prom at every year. I walked in and complained to anyone who would listen that I had spilled coffee down my dress. Thankfully it was dark in the room, and it fell on a crease, so it looked like a shadow, even in the light.
[our schnazzy group.... from left to right, back row: Sarah, Spencer, Taylor, Drew, Steven, Daniel, and Josh.From left to right, front row: Mary Helen, Macy, Holly, Charity, me, Alana, and Rachel]
Once we got there, the party started. Literally. When Steven (Daniel's older brother) walked into the room, everyone started cheering. He's only that awesome. We started dancing and having the time of our lives. It was so nice to have all of my friends there, and to be able to have some crazy awesome dancing going on. Really there isn't much to say about the first 45 minutes or so... we just danced like cra
zy. I thought I was going to have a heart attack a couple of times, 'cause every time I was about to get off the dance floor, either I heard a song I knew and -had- to dance to it, or someone would ask me to dance. Gosh. But it was so much fun, I didn't care. Although I did have one minor mishap. In the middle of one dance I was in a group dancing, and my bracelet just fell off. Well, no big deal, I thought, I can latch it back together. I thought the little latch had come undone, and I thought I could fix it. But when I picked it up, I found it had broken in the middle for no reason whatsoever. By that time, I was a little less than happy. Coffee on my dress. Bracelet broken. I figured the night would go down hill from there.... thankfully, though, I was unmistakably wrong.Finally they had the senior lead out, which was so sad this year, having all of these people I knew graduating. It was sad, and yet I was so happy for them too. After the senior dance, we all went back on the floor dancing even more than before. I danced with a bunch of my girlfriends, and with 7 or 8 of my guy friends. It was loads of fun. I can't really describe much that happened because it was all a big blur. I remember some particular dances, but generally all I remember is just being with everyone and having a joyful time. <3 Although I do remember doing the hokie pokie. And a Green Day song where four of my friends went up on the stage and played air guitar, bass, drums, and did some lip-syncing. The DJ had awesome music, in general. Except when he played Friday. I'd say about
90% of the kids left the dance floor the second the song came on. What was hilarious is the DJ must have been playing it off of an iPhone or something, because there was a huge beep in the middle of the song (probably a text message) which stopped it. Everyone cheered and immediately went back on the floor. Of course there are plenty of songs that home schoolers don't listen to... -wink- but since your dancing you usually don't pay attention to the lyrics. Thankfully. The only other song I can complain about was when I was dancing with my friend Joel, and it was talking about this guy killing himself.... it was so morbid and both of us were cracking up.All I can say is it was an awesometastic prom, ten thousand times better than last year, even though last year was amazing too.
After we finished prom, we had an after prom breakfast at our house, as usual, and sat around and ate junk food. I could tell I was really, really tired by the end of it, because I was laughing hysterically at things that I usually think are stupid or annoying. Of course, it was about 1:30 in the morning and I had danced for nearly 3 hours straight, so it's somewhat understandable. Soon... too soon for my taste, everyone left, and prom for 2011 was over. Which made me sad, but it was so much fun I almost didn't care it was over. I have so many amazing memories from this year.
So that was prom from this year, and a fantastic one at that. I don't know how my junior or senior years will be able to top this year. This year was boss.
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