Variations on Treasure Island

I love this song. And the movie that goes with it. Treasure Planet is so very, very underrated. It didn't get great reviews when it first came out, and most people would forget to include it if asked to list Disney movies.

But I happen to love it.

Mostly, I think, because I love the story of Treasure Island in general. My English class was forced to read the book in middle school, by a teacher we felt comfortable enough with to complain about it to. He made us keep at it, though, and would gather us every morning to make sure we understood what we had read the previous day: "You guys get what's happening now, right? Silver is going after the treasure himself. You got that, right?" He would say it not in an anxious way, but in a way that suggested that he didn't want us to miss a minute of the story. It was just too good. And it was.

You know what my all time favorite Treasure Island adaptation is, though? One I like even more than Treasure Planet? Muppet Treasure Island. I laugh at that movie. I laugh like a five-year-old at that movie: "I think I smell something burning...AAAAHHHH!"

Veering away from Treasure Island and all of its delights, I should let you know that you won't be hearing from me in a while. I'm going on vacation to the exotic land of Wisconsin. In all seriousness, though, I am so very excited for this trip. It's the first vacation I've had this summer; I haven't had more than a few days off in a row since the middle of May, and I certainly haven't taken any extended treks during those brief periods (excepting my travels in Little House on the Prairie Land). Now I have a nice large chunk of time, and I'm filling it with a five hour road trip (which I, of course, have prepared for with help from my local library), and with family I haven't seen in a long time.

See you Thursday. Stay gold.

A Pretty Great Jacket

Sorry for the double dose of C.S. Lewis as my Person of the Week. But he's my 50th person, and if there's anyone who deserves to be my 50th person, and who deserves to have two quotes instead of one and two weeks instead of one, it's C.S. Lewis.

Today was a shopping day.
I got, among other things, a Nike jacket. I was not looking for a Nike jacket, but boy, did I find one. It's purple with orange trim and white stripes down the sides. It makes me look a lot sportier than I actually am. It's a pretty great jacket.

I also read quite a bit of Hemingway, attempted the Friday crossword, attempted to absorb some sun, watched a large quantity of Brotherhood 2.0, and drank a large quantity of orange juice.

Tonight we go to see a production of The Music Man, which is my favorite musical of all time. It also happens to be many people's least favorite musical of all time. And while I understand why people dislike it, I love it nonetheless, and will quite probably be singing along tonight. (To the despair of all those sitting near me.)

Stay gold.

Blue in Green

Another blue day today.

What else was there to do but drive to Lino to buy a green album?



This ain't no music blog, but so far so good with Ukulele Songs. So far, so really really good.

Holly Movies

"The Painted Veil" is what my mom refers to as a "Holly Movie."

Holly Movies are historical dramas, usually artfully made, and usually romantic. They don't have to be sad, but many of them are because history is like that sometimes. Sometimes people die in Holly Movies. Holly Movies are sweeping, they're beautiful, and they're poignant. Holly Movies always take themselves seriously, which is good, I think. Stupid comedies are not Holly Movies.

Holly Movies are also, as you have probably guessed, my very favorite kind of movies.

Anyway, I saw "The Painted Veil" a few weeks ago when I checked it out from the library. I then proceeded to watch it three times in one weekend.

I then proceeded to go on itunes and buy this song.

I've been listening to it all day. It's raining out, and if you listen to this song, I'm sure you'll understand why it's the perfect song for a gloomy beautiful day.



P.S. Watch the movie as well. It's perfectly wonderful.

Things Get Better For Me

Sorry sorry sorry. I know I'm a slacker. But pray believe me when I tell you (with one trustworthy hand on your shoulder) that this week has been a tough week for me.

I've laughed.

I've cried.

I've done both synonymously.

I wish I were joking about the synonymously.

I had three tests this week: American Literature, Art History, and German.

The first two went well, the third I didn't take because

I gave blood on Thursday evening

And then had a slight mental breakdown

And wasn't able to study for said German exam.

I don't know if mental breakdown is what I should call what I had, and I certainly don't like writing 'mental breakdown' because it makes me sound like some sort of basket case. But what else do you call it when you're in the middle of a doubles badminton game, and suddenly you start getting really stressed out and you begin to swing back and forth between laughing and crying?

(I'm usually not a very competitive person. Sure, I like to win, but I think it's incredibly rude and tacky to act rude and tacky when it comes to competitions. So I try to behave in a more dignified manner.)

But let me tell you, I was slightly freaking out during this game of badminton. Within the space of about 3 minutes I moodswung back and forth between laughing and almost sobbing about 5 times. I also seriously considered running over and yelling at people that I hardly knew for doing things that were hardly offensive to me. Then my trusty partner and I walked back to our room and I sat on my bed and cried for a good half hour.

And I don't think it had anything to do with the badminton. I'm going to blame this one on the blood loss and lack of sleep and test stress.

Things have gotten better, though. Last night our friend Ben came up from the cities, and we all went to the on-campus Rooney concert together. I decided after the concert that the kind of music Rooney makes just isn't to my taste, but that it was fun nonetheless. Live concerts usually are.

After the concert, Ben, Maddie, and I settled down in our room with some snacks and Ben's old (and terrible) horror movies and watched and ate until we fell asleep.

This morning was the Prairie Cup, which is a Ground Quidditch tournament. UMM played the U of MN Twin Cities team. It was so cold on the bleachers, but so worth it to watch a cross country runner in gold spandex act as the snitch and run all over campus evading the two seekers. It was so worth it to watch the chasers and beaters and keepers get mud-splattered as they knocked each other around in Indy Lake (which isn't really a lake-more like a large hollow that they flood in the winter for broomball). It was so worth it to hear the announcers announce "prospies!" and then to turn around and cheer at the tour groups as they walked by. I'm certain that if I had been touring a college campus and had seen a game of Quidditch going on, I would have chosen that college on the spot.

P.S. We got 2 inches of snow last night (Friday, April 15th). On Monday, April 11th, it was 70 degrees out. Huh.

Laundry Blues

I hate doing laundry.
I hate walking down 8 flights of stairs to do it, I hate bumping into people on the way, and I hate walking back up again only to walk back down again 38 minutes later to throw my clothes into the dryer.
I hate that people will dump your clothes if you are even 5 minutes late to get them.
I hate that I always spill a bit of detergent, and that when I try to clean it up (because there's a sign saying you have to and because it's Lent and my religion teacher at St. John's taught us that Lent is the season for random acts of kindness. Or was it Advent?) it's slimy and gets on my hands and then I smell like mountain spring for the rest of the week.
I hate that when I want to hang up some clothes in our room, the only place for the drying rack is in the middle of everything, and that I can hardly move without tripping over said drying rack.
I hate that the only thing I have to say on a Saturday night is how much I hate doing laundry.

When I'm out in the real world, and looking for an apartment, please (I'm begging you) don't let me get one without an in-suite washer/dryer. I don't care if they're in a closet, I don't care if they're in my bedroom. Just no stairs.

P.S. Night 3 (final) of Jazz Fest is tonight. I decided not to volunteer after all, but while I was sitting on my bed just now making art history flashcards, I thought it would be nice to listen to UMM's campus radio station's live broadcast of Jazz Fest. I turned to the channel, and was horrified to discover that apparently "live broadcast" means that the DJ talks incessantly in the foreground while muted jazz plays in the background. I began yelling at said DJ. Loudly. I was cruel. I insulted him (and maybe his mother once or twice). So I'm sorry, DJ. This is my public (enough) apology. But next time, just play the jazz, please.

That Jazz

It's a rather nice day out. Windy as always, but otherwise warm. There are only a few patches of snow left around campus, namely the shrunken remains of an igloo on the Mall.

Jazz Fest has been going on since yesterday evening, so as I sit on my bed and type, I hear snatches of saxophone or trumpet or trombone shriek from the direction of the Student Center. I'll be volunteering at tonight's portion of Jazz Fest, and a bunch of us will be wearing "Thank you Bob and Susan" buttons in honor of U of MN president Bob Bruininks, who is also attending tonight. He's retiring this year after having served the University well for a long time.

I also found out today that I got reelected as a Campus Assembly Representative for UMM's student government.
What's really amazing, though, is that the team who won the presidential/vice presidential race only beat the other team by 4 VOTES. Can you believe it? 804 people voted (out of the 1700 students at UMM, which is actually a really high percentage), and it was that close. It's also funny to think that there's a random person walking around campus right now who didn't vote, but if he would have voted, would have voted for the team that ended up losing. That person is 1/4 of the reason why that team lost. Well, sort of. This is me trying to do statistic stuff. Please don't laugh.

I guess my point is that the next time I hear someone say "What's the point of voting? My vote doesn't make a difference!" I'll get right up in their face and laugh. And then I'll tell them the story I just told you.

In other news, I won the Read-a-Thon this year. I think I've explained it in the past, but basically one of my friends and I record all the books we read in one year, and then get together and see who read the most. We also have sub-categories: number of classics read (we debate this), pages read, average length of books read, books read that haven't been read previously, etc.
Here are my stats for April 1st 2010-April 1st 2011:
88 Books (which was exactly my goal)
27,183 pages
308.8 pages per book average
36 new books (I know-this could be higher. I love rereading my old favorites, though)
16 classics (Dracula, A Passage to India, The Brief Wondrous Life of Oscar Wao, Fahrenheit 451, Jane Eyre, This Side of Paradise, Memoirs of a Sleep Walker, The Legend of Sleepy Hollow, Utopia, Rip Van Winkle, Atonement, King Lear, The Hidden Hand, The House of Seven Gables, Franny and Zooey, The Bell Jar)

What's more is that I do so much reading every day for classes that doesn't get recorded anywhere; I'm constantly reading articles, short stories, poems, passages, essays, etc.

Well I think that's all I have. Sorry if this post has been a little sporadic, but it's been such a busy week that I didn't have the energy to do anything fancy or cohesive.

Tschüss!

I'll Miss Things

Gosh, I love it here.

Have you gotten that impression yet?

Why would I ever want to leave?

Grammar and Language is being offered this fall. I want to take Grammar and Language.

A ballet version of Cinderella is coming this fall. I want to see Cinderella.

MCSA secretaries are being appointed this fall. I want to be a secretary.

Rocky Horror Picture Show is being shown (as per tradition) in Edson this fall. I want to see Rocky; this year will be my first year actually understanding what's going on.

I have friends that I'll miss.

I have family I'll miss.

I have professors I'll miss.

I have three jobs that I'll miss.

Sometimes (as you may have guessed), I don't know if I want to go away to Salzburg this fall. I know it's a great opportunity, and that I've wanted to travel my entire life, and that part of the reason I came to UMM in the first place was because they have such a good study abroad program, but still. I guess I'm a little scared. Not of Austria, but of leaving Minnesota. Is that crazy?

Julie seems to think so.

Weekend Hints

Here are a couple of hints as to what I did with the rest of my weekend. Also, please forgive any poor photography. I apparently need to delve a little deeper into a certain new camera manual:






Any guesses?

Okay.

1. Mad and I rearranged our room, which not only helped in the I-have-a-six-page-paper-to-write-but-i-don't-wanna department, but also turned up a few surprises:


Like my Vaseline, which I've been searching for ever since the hand-drying, knuckle-splitting wind arrived in Morris this winter. Grossed out by the dust/hair/crumb combo surrounding the jar? So was I. We swept the floor when we were finished moving, I promise.

2. It snowed. And snowed. And kept snowing (actually it's still going). If I had to hazard a guess, I'd say that we've gotten a good 14 inches since yesterday morning. With so much snow in such a short period of time, you would expect school to be closed. All the other U of MN campuses were. But not Morris. Apparently we're made of stronger stuff out here (or at least the higher-ups are, because I certainly wasn't keen on getting up for my 9:15).

3. I scraped a good hunk of skin off my second finger this morning. Still half asleep, I flung my arm out and it hit our popcorn-studded wall. Too tired to even look at the injury, I simply let my hand dangle out of the covers where it wouldn't bloody any sheets, and continued to doze. Unfortunately, this isn't the first time the wall and my hand have come to blows.

A Prairie Home Companion

I bought my ticket to A Prairie Home Companion (recording live from University of Minnesota, Morris) months ago, practically the instant tickets were available. Despite this, when an email was sent out to all UMM students calling for volunteers to usher at the show, I jumped on that as well. Ushers got a free ticket, which made my previous purchase unnecessary, but I couldn't help but hope that as an usher who would be in the gym hours early, I would get a chance to meet Garrison Keillor himself.

So on Saturday I sold my ticket to my friend Aaron at half price, pulled on my dorky UMM polo, grabbed my camera, and marched over to the PE center.

Upon arriving, I was first of all surprised at how many ushers there were. There were roughly 30 people (faculty, staff, and students alike) congregated in the main lobby of the RFC. Right off the bat we were given flashlights to shake up (go green), lanyards with ID badges, and emergency briefings to read.

Then a man who was part of the PHC crew, came over to talk to us about expectations. Overall, I was impressed by how laid back the show was going to be. Obviously it's live, so babies couldn't be screaming and bleachers couldn't be squeaking during the quieter parts of the show, but other than that, it seemed like almost anything was okay. People could come and go as they pleased (except during aforementioned quiet parts), food and drink were perfectly fine, as were photography and recording (minus flash). As the man put it (although I admit I found this part to be kind of presumptuous): "The people who come to see the show think that Garrison is their friend, and that they've been invited tonight by him specifically. As such, his audience members need to be treated with respect and sensitivity."

After someone else gave us the lowdown on what to do in case of an emergency, Wendy (one of the organizers) began listing off different usher positions and asking for a certain number of people to cover each position. I held off for a long time before volunteering, wanting to be down on the floor (as close to the stage as possible). When Wendy came to the reserved handicapped section, and asked for two volunteers to accommodate people there, my hand shot up. That section just had to be up front, right?

Turns out it wasn't. It was on the floor instead of up on the bleachers, sure, but it was in the very back left corner of the floor seating. Fortunately, I forgot to be disappointed, because as soon as I walked out into the gym, I realized that Garrison and the rest of the actors and musicians were already there warming up.

Imagine walking into a gym and hearing Garrison Keillor's voice and realizing that you're not listening to a radio someone had left on, that instead, the man himself is on the stage in jeans and bright red tennis shoes, and that the rest of the voices you've grown up hearing on long car rides back from the cabin are standing there beside him.

Once I got over being starstruck (it took me a few minutes, admittedly), I began marveling at the stage itself. It was set up in front of the other set of bleachers, and evidently the PHC people travelled with a semi truck, because they had brought with them 4 huge bars laden with stage lights, the stage itself, frames hung with black velvet curtains that served as "the wings," a huge piece of scenery made to look like a house (with awning and porch light and windows and everything), plus of course all the equipment, instruments, etc.

Since the volunteers had been asked to show up a good 2 hours before the general public was let in, we got to stand around and listen to the actors and musicians (and our UMM Concert Choir, which was featured on the show) warm up. I tried not to listen too hard, because I wanted to be interested enough to watch the real show later.

When 3:30 rolled around and the doors opened, people began to flood in. My job was to: a) point them to general admission seating b) point them to VIP seating c) point them to handicapped seating d) gently tell them that having a child in the choir does not guarantee front row seating e) point them to the restrooms f) point them to concessions g) reassure them that they would be able to get back in after using the restrooms or buying concessions h) give them extra programs.

Then at 5 the live show actually began and I got to sit down and enjoy it. I won't describe the entire synopsis, I'll only say that it was fantastic, and that I was pleasantly surprised by how much the PHC people emphasized Morris in the show. They had the choir perform (as I've said), they set many of the skits in Morris, they interviewed Matt (a Morris student on MCSA with me) about the campus, and they even sang a few songs about the town.

Here are some pictures from the show. I know they're slightly horrible, but as I've said, I've been struggling to figure out my new camera. Besides, it was dark and flashes weren't allowed.





Did I get to meet Garrison and the Gang after all that? Nope. They had to hurry out of town after the show in order to beat the snow (rhyme not intended).

A Shrieking Good Concert

I don't like being screamed at I don't like being screamed at.
I attended my first Symphonic Winds concert this afternoon. It was lovely, really, and as I was floating along on the music, exclaiming (privately) at the beauty of Oyate and the beauty of the nonsubzero day outside, the screams began.
They escalated until beautiful Oyate Hall echoed with the sounds of people dying, or fleeing in terror. I thought someone had pulled out a gun, I thought someone had seen a ghost, I thought the very worst.
But nope. It was all part of the music.
Apparently blood-curdling screams are very in right now.
As I surreptitiously tried to wipe off the tears that were threatening to fall out of my eyes, I noticed two little girls who were sitting a few rows in front of me. They looked about as frightened as I felt. They were clinging to their father with saucer eyes and mussed hair and probably asking him why were people screaming?
I wondered that myself as I tried to rub the goosebumps off of my arms.

I think I'm going to go hide under the covers now.

Pains, Classes, Plans

Honestly, I don't think I've ever ached so much in my entire life. My muscles seem to have aged about 50 years overnight. I can't roll over in bed without effort. Walking is done gingerly and very, very slowly. Stairs are nearly impossible. When limping around campus nowadays, it's not uncommon to hear cries of "gimpy!" aimed in my direction. Snowballs, too. I'm the Tiny Tim of Morris. I'm Terry in An Affair to Remember, only without the nice painting.

All my pain, humiliatingly enough, is not the result of a romantic accident or even a knife fight. Nope, it's the result of two hours in the RFC on Sunday playing volleyball, and an hour yesterday of playing badminton. Both activities might have turned out all right, but when I play sports, I tend to perform uncoordinated lunges and dives that stretch my body in ways it's probably not meant to be stretched. Three hours of acrobatics, I suppose, were bound to bring pain.

In other news, I'll give you a list of my spring classes:
American Literature 20th century and forward
Beginning German II
The Trial of Galileo (Honors)
Art History Renaissance to Modern

In other other news, I've recently begun planning for my Great Study Abroad Semester. I know I want to go somewhere where I can practice my German, and I obviously need to go somewhere where I can take courses that pertain to my major. The search is currently narrowed down to Austria and Germany, with Austria inching ahead. Salzburg especially is looking really good right now, probably because of my passionate devotion to The Sound of Music. Will keep you updated.

Imagine Again

Thirty years ago today John Lennon was shot and killed in New York City.
Earlier that day, Lennon had kindly stopped to sign an autograph for his murderer, who traveled all the way from Hawaii just to do the deed.
John Lennon was shot in the back by that man, who carried a copy of The Catcher in the Rye.

The other day, I came across a few quotes by Paul McCartney about John Lennon:
"I definitely did look up to John. We all looked up to John. He was older and he was very much the leader; he was the quickest wit and the smartest."

(when asked if he missed sitting knee to knee with John Lennon, writing songs) "Are you kidding? Of course I bloody miss it. I'm sitting in the room with John, him with me. Believe me, we're both pretty good editors. We were young turks. We were smartasses. And we did some amazing things. I would love him to be here now, saying, 'Don't bloody do that!' – or, more wonderfully, 'That's great!' So yeah, I really had the greatest writing partner."


And I decided to look for other places/ways John Lennon is remembered:

Here (Strawberry Fields, NYC)



Here (Imagine Peace Tower, Iceland)


Here


Here (A CD of my mom's; I grew up listening to it)


Here (The movie Nowhere Boy, about a young John Lennon)


Here (The Beatles)



And Here (John Lennon and his widow, Yoko Ono)


Finally, I just have to post the lyrics to that beautiful, beautiful song itself:

Imagine there's no heaven
It's easy if you try
No hell below us
Above us only sky

Imagine all the people
Living for today...

Imagine there's no countries
It isn't hard to do
Nothing to kill or die for
And no religion too

Imagine all the people
Living life in peace...

You may say I'm a dreamer
But I'm not the only one
I hope someday you'll join us
And the world will be as one

Imagine no possessions
I wonder if you can
No need for greed or hunger
A brotherhood of man

Imagine all the people
Sharing all the world...

You may say I'm a dreamer
But I'm not the only one
I hope someday you'll join us
And the world will live as one

1 a.m. Guitar

It's about 1 in the morning
And someone next door
is playing on a guitar
something that sounds Italian
or perhaps Spanish.
She continues to stop and start
trying to reach a difficult chord, maybe
but I don't mind.
I sit in the quiet in my room
listen to my roommate breathe
listen to the guitar
next door
and suddenly
finals seem very very small
the world is small
compared to the cold night
the soft guitar
and me.

Regis, What is This?!

My ears are burning a little bit.
A group of girls on my floor have gathered to sing Disney songs at the top of their lungs in the hallway.
I am trying to memorize about 40 German flashcards.
Excuse the bitterness.
But really, girls?
I hate to be the party pooper, but this has got to stop.
It's a Thursday night!
People (besides me) are studying!
Be quiet!

Here's a funny picture to make up for my non-funny complainings:

In Which my Blog is Blogged

This is funny. I'm at a library computer, and I search engined my name like I always do to get to my blog quickly on public computers.

Guess what came up?

On this website: http://kevinrenick.com/News.php

(which is the website of musician Kevin Renick), my blog was mentioned! Why? Oh, because a while back I quoted the lyrics to his song, "Up in the Air," saying that they pretty much described my life. Well, whoever runs his website must have googled his name and my blog must have popped up!

Why am I excited about this? Because it's the first bit of publicity for my blog! Not that I want it to become famous or anything (Julie & Julia style), it's just neat to see that people are actually looking at it.

Here's what was actually said about my blog on the website, in case you don't want to scroll down that far. It's not much, really, but it's something:


--Two more blogs feature the lyrics to "Up in the Air" and the author's favorable comment. First up is Holly Gruntner's personal take: http://staygoldponyboy88.blogspot.com/2010/06/up-in-air.html You rule, Holly!

Stats

I don't really have anything in particular to say today, but I do especially want to say something because I want to hit 19 posts for the month of July. Last March I hit 19 also, which is, I believe, my all time record (one that probably won't be surpassed anytime soon).

Here are some stats for you:
Latest 'duh' moment: I'd been wondering for a while what the origin of a certain curious, drippy noise was. I only just realized that I left the sink running from when I got a drink of water about a half hour ago.

Activity: Playing Sims 2 (I always make literary families) on the Dell, and at the same time constantly checking the firstlinefiction website on my laptop to see if any results have been posted yet (they haven't).

Eyebrow condition: Red and sore looking. Unfortunately, I had to go to work today with the burns seared into my face. Also unfortunately, I read on the internet that waxing burns usually don't scar. Good Lord I don't know what I would do if these babies scarred. Wear a paper bag on my head for the rest of my life? Or maybe do a sort of reverse Phantom of the Opera; have a mask on just my forehead instead of just my cheek.

Current wrist ornament: I'm wearing those rubber band bracelets that don't look like much on, but when you take them off and lay them flat, they revert back into shapes such as peace signs and dinosaurs. They're the very latest preteen fad, and I'm happy to say that I've joined in.

Height: 5'10." Although probably about half that, since I am sitting down. Hmm...I wonder what my actual sitting down height is? Will find out some time.

Reading: *Going Bovine, by the marvelous Libba Bray. This book happened to win the Michael L. Printz Award. It also happens to be completely hilarious and wonderful. Which may be why it happened to win the Michael L. Printz Award.

Writing: Nothing. Well, this blog. And my journal. But nothing else.

Listening to: Nothing as of yet, although I did go a little crazy after work today and talked myself into buying an itunes card. Let the over-priced music buying begin!



*You know, under the facade of reading classics like Never Let Me Go, Fahrenheit 451, and Jane Eyre, I've been getting my Young Adult fiction on this summer. Maybe these side reads of mine don't sound very impressive or English-major-y to you, but I've been enjoying them immensely. Partly because I read the Y.A. authors' blogs online and think it's cool that I can get to know them a bit before reading their books, partly because the Y.A. authors are awesome and all seem to live in NYC and hang out and do awesome things together, and partly because I've always loved the Y.A. genre, and think I may want to write at least one Y.A. book someday.)

Four Parts: Quote, Deep Thought, Deep Quote, and Random List

We begin with a quote:
"Most days of the year are unremarkable. They begin and they end with no lasting memory made in between. Most days have no impact on the course of a life."

We proceed with a deep thought stemming from the above quote:
Today was Monday, July 26, 2010. My cousin Kara's 10th birthday.
A lot of things happened to me today, most of which were probably unremarkable.
A mosquito bit me as I rode in the backseat of my mom's minivan. I slapped at at and it disappeared.
I went to the dentist.
I went to the Dairy Queen with my mother, sister, and my cousins Kara and Rachel to celebrate Kara's birthday.
Back at home, I ate dinner with my family, and then settled down to watch 500 Days of Summer.

Mundane stuff, I thought at the time. I still think now. But you know, every second of today I was alive and doing something. Every second was a second I'll never ever have again. That mosquito slap could have blown my chance at true love. That trip to the dentist could have saved me from being hit by a car and killed. If I had watched a different movie, I probably would be posting about something very different right now.

We continue with an original deep quote stemming from the above deep thought:
Life is a culmination of all the seconds we have; how we spend them, how we don't spend them, and how we plan on spending them differently tomorrow.

We end with a list that has nothing to do with the above quotes or thoughts:
My 10 Favorite Songs of All Time:
1. We're Going to Be Friends (The White Stripes)
2. I'm Gonna Be (The Proclaimers)
3. Vagabond (Wolfmother)
4. Classical Gas (Mason Williams)
5. All My Days (Alexi Murdoch)
6. Change Your Mind (The Killers)
7. Brother Love's Traveling Salvation Show (Neil Diamond)
8. In My Life (The Beatles)
9. Breakfast At Tiffany's (Deep Blue Something)
10.If I Ever Leave This World Alive (Flogging Molly)

Up in the Air

You know, I don't think I've ever before come across song lyrics that are so true to my position in life. Here they are. Enjoy:

Up In The Air (Kevin Renick)

I'm up in the air,
Choices drifting by me everywhere.
And I can't find the one
That would help me do the work I've left undone,
Cause I'm up in the air.

I'm making some plans,
Finding out there's always new demands.
And I can't be precise;
When people ask me what I'm doing with my life,
I say, It's up in the air.

I'm thinking of my past,
The comfort in my home that couldn't last.
Now my family tells me work for your success,
And they want to see me find some happiness.
But I'm not sure where that is,
Cause I'm up in the air.

I'm out in the woods;
Something here does my heart so good.
I breathe the air, and I know that I'm alive.
And I stare at all the birds as they fly by.
I guess it all comes down to them,
Cause they're up in the air.

-End Song-

I really am up in the air, aren't I? Well, that's fine with me for now. I just finished my freshman year of college. I think I can still afford to be floating about.

I worked for 7 hours and 15 minutes today. Please excuse me while I collapse on my bed with Fahrenheit 451 and a Peach Schnapps. (Just kidding about the schnapps.)

I Pulled Into Nazareth, I Was Feelin' About Half Past Dead

Good Evening readers! I started my last post with a salutation, and it sounded so polite that I had to do the same tonight. No rhyme intended.

My memorial weekend was phenomenal, as a matter of fact. I read about six books all the way through (though in all fairness, they were all under 250 pages, and I had previously read five of them), sat in the sun, and generally lazed around the boat and the lake and the island. I also got my first sunburn of the season; it's an unfortunate one that outlines perfectly the shirt I was wearing.

I started writing a few minutes ago. A short story, I think. That is, I hope it will develop into a full-fledged short story. I got my inspiration for it in an interesting way, actually. I was standing at the refrigerator searching for raspberries (which were, it turns out, sitting on the counter behind me), when I suddenly got that strange feeling like someone was watching me. I looked behind the refrigerator door, and peered into the dim hallway to the left of me, but of course no one was there. It wasn't an eerie feeling, really, now that I think about it. It just felt like someone was watching me the way you watch a home video; looking for the people you know and smiling at things you barely remember.

Strange, huh? Good story material, huh?

I also watched the movie Big Chill earlier today. I've been listening to the soundtrack for ages; my mom has it, and it's a great compilation of everything I like about oldies music. Anyway, I finally got around to watching the actual movie. The verdict? It was fun to watch. It felt like all of the actors really were old friends reunited. And although it got slow at times, and my favorite part was still the music, it had a realism to it that I thought was really special.