P.S. I Love You

New blog: www.redumbrellas.blogspot.com

Today is the one-year anniversary of my first post on this blog. I've been reading over some of those early posts, and it's amazing how much changes and how much stays the same. That day was the day of the Sterling QB tournament, which we attended yesterday.

Tuesday starts a new semester. So new beginnings are good. A chance for renewal, for reflection and growth. For maybe deciding I can stand on my own but still keep my friends close whenever I start to fall.

Octopus' Garden

I'm going to discontinue this blog. It is time for me to move on. I've been realizing lately that I have moved beyond the Beatles. This is not to say that they have not had an inestimable influence on me and the kind of music I listen to. They were the door that opened me to different music than I'd ever listened to...music beyond contemporary Christian (most of which I now dislike, except for maybe Jars of Clay and Third Day). For a while, the Beatles were all I listened to. But I've now become enamored with a lot more...R.E.M. (which I've been listening to a lot lately), Ben Folds, the Doors, Coldplay, Green Day, Joni Mitchell, Gorillaz, Josh Groban, Simon & Garfunkel, etc. Eclectic tastes. Warm sounds with lots of nice guitar.

There are many Beatles songs that I will always love...
Things We Said Today
Come Together
Here Comes the Sun
Eight Days a Week
Paperback Writer
You’ve Got to Hide Your Love Away
Yesterday
Two of Us
Across the Universe
Let It Be
Magical Mystery Tour
I Am the Walrus
Strawberry Fields Forever
All You Need Is Love
The Inner Light
Hey Jude
Love You To
Here, There and Everywhere
Good Day Sunshine
For No One
Drive My Car
Norwegian Wood
The Word
In My Life
With a Little Help From My Friends
Within You Without You
A Day in the Life
Dear Prudence
Happiness is a Warm Gun
Blackbird
I Will
Mother Nature’s Son
Cry Baby Cry

I will start a new blog, one I'll update only occasionally to reflect on specific subjects (probably in terms of music), not just ramble on about what I've been doing lately. (Because my life is pretty boring.)

Thanks for those of you who have read and commented on this. I'll post once more to let you know where my new blog is. It will not be on Myspace or Xanga.

A Taste of Honey

This year is shaping up to be a year of juniors for me. Of course I love the seniors and think we are a good class, but I'm discovering that we aren't as picture-perfect as we appear. Like Patrick, Ryan, and Nate getting drunk on New Year's and partying in front of the traffic cam. Like Ross and Sapna finally, finally, finally hooking up and becoming just another amorous couple making out all over. Like people being snotty and bitchy and lazy.

Not that the juniors are necessarily better. But I have tons of classes with juniors this year, and am finding that individual members of that class are decent. Even the ones I disdained, resented, wrote angry editorials about (Jeremy Tatar). And now I sit by Craig in stats, and he's an okay kid, too. Ted makes my day every day (that he attends school; I'm actually pretty worried about him) with his funny comments in physics and Euro. And of course I've always loved Emily, Robert, Mickey, Sasha, Alexandra, James. I played Scrabble with Craig, Jeremy, and Mr. McCoy the other night and discovered that mad English skillz aren't the only thing necessary to be good at that game, and that junior boys can defeat me (just like on the PSAT...Jeremy beat my score by two points). I lost horribly. But it got me out of quiz bowl practice, and that's just fine with me.

I really want to enjoy my senior year, to savor these last months at Auburn, but it's hard. I've reached the midyear slump of apathy, fatigue, and depression. It happens every year. Maybe today's not especially good to use as an example; I'm coming down with a cold, the medicine I took this morning left me in a fog all day, and I left the physics homework I stayed up late working on at home. One thing I do think will be good is dropping newspaper next semester. That will ease some stress. I'll still be editor, but at least I won't have to deal with it as directly. Although I will miss seeing my freshman buddies in the library that hour. I'm going to end up looking forward desperately to summer, as with every year, and then realize that I'm wasting my moments of friendship and teachers and high school student life with anticipation. I sometimes feel an urge to just give my friends a really big, strong hug; I'm so afraid of losing them. I have memories of them from as early as first grade. I have no idea what it's like not to be part of this close, familiar community of people basically like me, who have known me for years, never miss the chance to bring up my embarrassing moments from elementary school (like when I "married" my friend Bill on the playground), and so on.

I guess January's a bit early to be worrying about all this. I already wrote my "senior goodbye" for the newspaper, a couple of nights ago when I couldn't sleep. My New Year's resolution was to find something to be happy about and look forward to every day. I'm doing exactly what I'm afraid of: looking ahead without savoring the present. Like getting an iPod and being able to listen to Peter, Paul, and Mary's "Blowin' in the Wind," bringing back memories of my grandma tucking me in and playing that song as I fell asleep when I stayed at her house. Like just talking to my friends, sharing inside jokes that should have been beaten to death long ago. Like watching The Simpsons with my sister (I'm so scared of losing her, too, by the way). Like talking to Aashesh on the phone. Like Mr. Keyzer pantomiming canoeing across the physics room. Like driving home at night, singing along to the Rent soundtrack in my minivan. I should take a lesson from that: "No day but today."

Happy Xmas (War Is Over)

I know "Happy Xmas" is John Lennon, not "real" Beatles. But today is the anniversary of John Lennon's assassination. (By Mark David Chapman. Who was reading Catcher in the Rye.) And that, plus the fact that this war is most definitely not over, besides Christmas fast approaching, made me want to use that title.

I really like Christmas music. Usually I pretend to sigh and roll my eyes with everyone else when I hear the first strains of "Carol of the Bells" sometime in early November, but when it snows and there are lights up everywhere in the neighborhood (by the way, we have lights this year for the first time, and red bows under our garage lights, because, as my dad claims, "Nothing says festive like red bows"), then the music feels right. It adds to the season. With that in mind, here are my top ten Christmas tunes. And I apologize to any non-Christmas-celebrating folk; I respect you, but today I'm being sentimental.

10. "Christmas Time is Here." From A Charlie Brown Christmas, which unquestionably beats out Frosty the Snowman and Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer as far as old Christmas specials go.
9. "The Little Drummer Boy." I've heard several versions of this one; my dad's personal favorite is the one by Joan Jett (one of his favorite artists, known mostly for "I Love Rock'n'Roll"). For some reason it's really nice.
8. "Angels We Have Heard on High." When I was about six, my sister and I got in trouble in church for singing the wrong words to this one. We thought they were the real words. Whoops. I still think of that every time I hear this, but I still like it.
7. "Jesu, Joy of Man's Desiring." I don't know if it was originally intended as a Christmas song, but it's in more than one of my Christmas piano music books. Josh Groban's version is the best I've heard.
6. "Carol of the Bells."
5. "What Child is This?" and
4. "O Come, O Come, Emmanuel." All three hauntingly beautiful.
3. "Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas." Just happy and slow. The kind of thing you want to hear while you're sitting inside a warm house with cocoa and a crackling fire and colored lights blinking and snow falling outside. Sigh.
2. "One Small Child" by Rebecca St. James. For some reason it's just really beautiful, a nice combination of rock and hymn. It kind of drives home the supposed point of the holiday: the birth of Jesus.
1. "The Christmas Song (Chestnuts Roasting On an Open Fire)" by Nat King Cole. No question. His voice is just so warm and soft, and of course the song's a classic. When it comes to Christmas music, this one's in a league of its own.

If you've read this far without getting bored... I'm home sick today. It's almost as if my body knows when I really, really need a day off. And even though I know everyone else has this much work and I shouldn't complain as if I'm the only one, I felt like I really needed a day off to catch up.

Early December can be a beautiful time of year. For some reason, the sight of bare branches against the sky has always been a poignant and beautiful one for me. Our neighborhood looks like a Christmas card, with the snow and the festive red bows everywhere. Everything seems strangely sad, though. The other day I was on the bus, looking out the window at the snow and trees and setting sun, and maybe because I was listening to Ben Folds' Songs for Silverman (a generally melancholy album), I felt very inexplicably depressed. I find myself making random objects into metaphors for the disintegration of the American dream, depression, ennui. I did a lot of that in that story I wrote for the Creative Writing Festival. It's not hard to do at this time of year.

It's Only Love

My parents are becoming more and more restrictive when it comes to going out with my friends, and the stringency of their rules is inversely proportional to my wanting to leave. I love my parents, I really do, but can't they understand that I can accept some responsibility? And that the fact my room is cluttered doesn't necessarily mean I'll flunk out of college? And that it is possible to go out more than once per weekend? I know why they're clinging to me more as my senior year passes by; I'm not entirely looking forward to leaving the home where I've for the most part felt safe and happy. But my family life doesn't have to come at the expense of my social life, does it?

Do you ever have the feeling that someone's attracted to you, and you're kind of attracted to them, too, but the relationship's going nowhere because neither of you is saying anything? Maybe I should be content to just let things happen, to enjoy each stage of any relationship, to enter it by degrees. But I'm far too impatient. I feel constantly full of anticipation, but sometimes I don't know what I'm waiting for. I look forward for days to something exciting (like the creative writing field trip, or Harry Potter, or Thanksgiving), and then it comes and goes and I realize I still have a stream of days stretching out before me, endless at least practically. Will I ever be satisfied?

At least I've found a diversion to keep quiz bowl Saturdays halfway interesting: ogling hot guys. There is no shortage of them on other teams. I know I am very shallow, and I know this pastime encourages endless teasing from the boys on my own team, but it really does lighten the monotony. And this monotony desperately needs lightening. I don't know how I can stand the months that lie ahead, except to tell myself that this is the last time I'll have to deal with it. (It being a code word for the Greeninator, a name I've just now decided to call her.) Much as I'd like to see people again, I flat-out refuse to come back to coach a B team or moderate at the frosh-soph tournament. I declare it here and now. You readers of this blog must hold me to it, no matter how my strength wavers. I will not be the next Melanie. I just won't deal with that crap once I've left Auburn behind. Oh, and I won't go visit her if and when I come back to Auburn (if the Academy is even still there). Bandy and Melanie can swallow their misgivings and be nice people. I just won't.

Also, I vowed this earlier this year, but I'm renewing it today because it helped me decide between books at the library: I will never waste my time on a book just because it's something I should read, something that will make me look smarter or that I want to use to impress someone. I'm going to read Nick Hornby and David Sedaris. And have a wonderful time doing so.

The Ballad of John and Yoko

I used to think that the man I would fall in love with and eventually marry would be someone with whom I could really talk, connect, be comfortable. The thing is, when I feel attracted to a guy or if someone shows the slightest interest in me, I instantly become tongue-tied, awkward, self-conscious...the exact opposite of all those things. The guys I really can talk to are guys I'm not attracted to: Aashesh, Patrick, Brad Fischer. So does your life have to be divided between romantic love and meaningful friendships? Maybe that's what a soulmate is: someone with whom you can have both. And that's why I haven't found anyone yet. I just wish I could have Gloria's luck: being best friends with a guy for years, building up a wonderful history of closeness, and then moving easily into a Relationship.

Why are people so weird about me dancing with Christian Zarnke at Cabaret? Three years is not a big difference, guys. (Not that I mind very much when Sonya teases me about being a pedophile...but still, three years is nothing. My aunt is three or four years older than my uncle, and do you think it matters now that they're in their forties? Did it matter when they were in their twenties? No.) We're definitely not dating, or anything close...but I think I would date the kid if the opportunity arose. And there are plenty of other kids who are one or two or three years younger than I am that I would easily date. According to Mr. McCoy, the opposite is usually true: because girls mature faster than boys, they tend to date and marry older guys. Maybe I'm just immature. (John Brown and Brandon now call me "the badass little kid" because when John asked me if my AIM buddy icon, which says Slytherin, is supposed to be a sign that I'm badass or a little kid, I replied that I'm both: a badass little kid.) But being older than a guy gives me slight power in a relationship, which I kind of like. And I've always had friends of all different circles and ages. When I was a freshman and sophomore, I befriended juniors and seniors in newspaper and quiz bowl; now I know underclassmen from being a TA and from quiz bowl and newspaper. As a Midway Village camp counselor, I befriended kids from fifth and sixth grade. Maybe I'm just so social that I can't go without making some connection with other people, no matter what the situation. I'm turning into my mom, I can see: the type of person who will start conversations while waiting in line at the grocery store. And though that used to embarrass me, now I think it's okay. It's not a bad thing to be friendly.

Do you ever have an experience of having a period of great energy and creativity and excitement? I had a really crazy night last night. We had a DBQ to write for Euro, and I was kind of dreading doing it. But once I got going, I was having all these great ideas and turning out beautiful turns of phrase and making funny and clever connections (I brought in Monty Python; the topic was the persecution of accused witches), and I got extremely excited about it. Then I was way too excited to go to bed, so I stayed up for another two hours rushing around my room and digging through the drawers of my desk and reading poems I wrote in eighth grade language arts. In fact, I'll close this entry with an excerpt:

"I am neurotic and strange
I wonder what it would be like to be a duck
I hear quacking
I see sheep and yellow fish
I want to have a sheep called 'Four legs good, two legs bad' (from Animal Farm)
I am neurotic and strange

I pretend to have friends in frogs and fish and snowmen
I feel that they are really my only friends
I touch an obsessive mongoose
I worry they will eat tofu
I cry tears of toothpaste
I am neurotic and strange

I understand why a gorilla has a pointy head
I say things in Sanskrit
I dream of yellow octopuses
I try to sing like evil blowfish
I hope to eat pickles and cheese
I am neurotic and strange."

One and One is Two

Another milestone has passed: the Senior Survey. It consists of voting for people to fit categories like Most Involved, Most Athletic, Best Car, etc. Its effect is usually to reinforce the popularity and power of certain individuals. (Last year Ellie Kiefer, who was very popular and influential, won for several categories.) We had those every year of middle school, although those also included things like Favorite Movie and Favorite Song (I remember when "It Wasn't Me" won in seventh grade. I remember commiserating with my friends that it was really bad but secretly liking it). Filling the survey out was actually fun, and some of my votes went through. Joe Szeluga got Meanest. I voted for him. Since Ross' parties last summer, I've been talking to Joe more, but I still agree that he is quite mean. And everyone, even his friends, seems to have at least some hatred for him. He acted like he was really happy, but I wonder if he feels bad about it. "Meanest" is a pretty mean category itself. Ellen got Best Car, which she campaigned for. Her blue-green Volvo, with the bumper sticker of Bush that says, "The Emperor Has No Brains," is pretty sweet. Hey, and I can say that I've ridden in it myself.

I'm very oriented aroud anticipation; I'm always looking forward to some goal. When I don't have an immediate one, I feel weird, lost. Like if I don't have something after school I'm looking forward to, or if I wake up and it's not a day on which there's something good in the newspaper (my mornings are organized around Wednesday's Molly Ivins column, Thursday's Weekly section, Friday's Go section, Saturday's USA Weekend, and Sunday's Will Pfeiffer column). And I kind of feel like that right now: lost, unfocused. The first two quiz bowl tournaments of the season are out of the way, so now I'm not eagerly looking forward to it anymore. Even the fact that Will's coming to see us at Northwestern on Saturday doesn't really make me any more excited about getting up at 5:30 and sitting in a van with Ms. Greene, Tyler, Ryan, Siva, and Michael Jiang for a total of three hours. Actually, that was a remarkably short time to burn out. January and February are going to be pretty long.

I just feel like a lot of the things that used to tie me down are cutting loose. Maybe that's a sign that I'm ready to go, to leave Auburn and Rockford and my family and go out on my own. I don't feel like I fit in at church...I never really did, but there was a time when I had a lot of fun at youth group, could talk to people, and so on. Now it just annoys me. (The sentence in my head was "it annoys the hell out of me," but that just seems odd, given the context.) The people are superficial, cliquey, and dumb. And the actual program is pretty shallow. I mean, it was nice freshman and sophomore year, but not to sound self-righteous or anything, I think I can go deeper. I want to study the Bible, study the history of the Church, theology, etc. And youth group just hits the surface. Which is fine for some people, but I've moved on. After reading Demian and Siddhartha, I'm deciding more and more that I need to make my own decisions about my morality, not just parrot what the Church tells me. That's stage four, in terms of Kohlberg.

And my friends are great, as always, but do you ever feel like everything meaningful has been said? Or can't really be said? Every day is just a repeat of the one before. I thought I was making new friends this year, but my freshmen also feel bland lately. I do talk to Christian Zarnke...but, all kidding aside (Sonya calls me a pedophile because of my semi-flirtatious friendships with underclassmen), he's very immature. Obsessed with violent video games, giggling when someone talks about midgets...I know that's how freshmen (and some juniors and seniors) are, that he'll outgrow it (and he will; he's a smart, good kid), but I can't talk to him. Or anyone, really. There's only so much you can say over Skippy Bars and Diet Coke.