Tell the world that I'm coming home...

So I've decided lately that music is my bandaid. Not that anything terribly horrendous has happened in my life lately. I've just found that whenever I'm feeling ehh, music picks me up.

I don't have any epic rhetoric for you tonight. I just feel like writing, so here it is: my thoughts thrown up into my blog.

I spent the week writing. All in all I wrote sixty-one pages, and that's single spaced, Times New Roman, 12 point, and on regular sized typing paper. So who knows what that translates into in the book world. I feel like I'm getting close to finishing though it's probably at least a hundred or so pages off. I had seventy-five pages done before Spring Break, and that took me five months. I buckled down and I'm sort of proud. Oh yeah, and I have a short little first chapter that I need someone to read and give me their opinion on. Let me know if you want to, I really need feedback because honestly the beginning is the sketchiest part of the whole story.

I spent most of the week in Dallas with mi padre. I got beat up by the cat. I saw I Am Number Four, which pretty much butchered the book... (Don't you just hate those "the movie was so much different than the book" nerds? I do. But let me tell you: the movie I Am Number Four was so much different than the book! Why?!) I also sat in Dallas traffic snapping pictures with hipstamatic, which I posted in an album on facebook. I had lunch with my aunt and cousins on my mom's side yesterday. I spent today at my cousin and aunt's birthday party, which consisted of sitting at the end of the table with my cousins chatting about whatever. I love them and I loved seeing my family this break. I never realize how much I miss them until I get home after spending hours with them. Like right now. I really miss my family.

I also got a job working with my aunt's party business in Houston. So that's exciting.

I bought two new cds. The first was Mumford and Sons, which I am very much obsessed with. The other bought was Civil Twilight, an alternative band from Cape Town, South Africa (I think). The lead singer sounds like Bono, but everything they write is really soulful and emotional and chill. I love it. Easily my new favorite.

Another song I've been listening to is Coming Home. I don't know why. I guess I've just realized lately that home isn't some distant place in the future. That's always been a delusion of mine. I've found though, that it's right here, right now with the people that you love. I realized that tonight. So I guess my home is where my family and friends are. That's where I'm happiest I suppose and nothing else really matters. And I guess that's what this song means to me.

I'm coming home.

Sleepyhead: Change

Change.

I keep bumping into that silly little word, stumbling over it in the darkness every night. Every time I see it, it snags me, and begs me to read into it, as if I should analyze its denotation. We all know what change means right? Good, then we’re on the same page. Think about it a second… what does change mean to you right now?

First let’s start with my connotations; these are the first things that come to mind whenever I see that worn out word. It typically depends on my mood. If the day has been so rough that I curse the very date I see on the calendar into oblivion, my initial thought borders along the lines of hatred. On days like those, I think of change as a rocketing train with no conductor, ready to jump the tracks at any moment with no obligation to recognize the innocents it would crush in its derailed path of destruction.  Change is the unstoppable factor that barrels past the present day. All you can do is watch as it destroys everything you had just begun to appreciate. On bad days, change is always remembered as the force that destroyed the good old days in a revolution you couldn’t control.

Some terrible days are different, at least for me, in that they leave me feeling determined. On days like those, I refuse to give up so easily. I’m convinced that things will get better. Thus, things have to change. It’s that it-can’t-possibly-get-any-worse mentality. I always figure that something’s gotta’ give eventually, that something really has to change. When you’re in that state of mind, things can get better, things can become great even. However, they can also get worse. Change is a two way street. Better or worse, change is going to happen.

“If you're in a bad situation, don't worry it'll change.  If you're in a good situation, don't worry it'll change.“

-John A. Simone, Sr.

That quote is painfully true. Of course, it’s great news for those of us that are currently wallowing in the way things are. And, if taken bluntly, it may seem like bad news to those who have it great now. You’re blessed if life is good currently, but don’t dismay! Just because things are going great today doesn’t mean they are, for sure, without a doubt going to suck soon. That’s not the point. My advice to those who are currently enjoying living it up is to appreciate it. Whether you like it or not, things will change. For better or for worse.

That’s not to say that everything is going to change. There’s at least one thing that we are sure will always remain constant. Ten points to whoever can guess what that our mystery constant is…

For Jesus doesn't change—yesterday, today, tomorrow, he's always totally himself.

Hebrews 13:8 The Message

If you guessed Jesus or God, you got it right. I’ve never written anything biblical on my blog before. Then again, since I first posted at the beginning of the year, I’ve been avoiding God. And there’s a reason for that, though it isn’t a very good one. I’ve been angry at Him for changing things for the worse, time and time again. It really seems like as soon as things even begin to look up, they change all over again. And that is the most irritating thing in the world. But from day one, I was expecting God to change it all. I guess I never guessed that maybe this was a test, and that maybe I was the thing that was meant to change all along.

Don't become so well-adjusted to your culture that you fit into it without even thinking. Instead, fix your attention on God. You'll be changed from the inside out. Readily recognize what he wants from you, and quickly respond to it. Unlike the culture around you, always dragging you down to its level of immaturity, God brings the best out of you, develops well-formed maturity in you.

Romans 12:2 The Message

I wouldn’t really call what I’ve been doing “fitting in” but I’ve certainly been trying to squeeze into the mold society wants to push me into. I just want to belong somewhere, and if that means hiding my religion in my pocket, then so be it, right? God says, “nu-uh,” according to that passage. Maybe if I had been focusing on God all along instead of asking him to change my situation and let me “fit in” I would’ve been happy a long time ago.

It’s kind of amazing what I’m learning as I’m writing this. Up until about fifteen minutes ago, I thought my relationship with God was great. Up until fifteen minutes ago, I forgot that I had forgotten about God altogether. Hmmm. It explains so much. Why did I think I could do any of this alone?

My aunt got me a book for my birthday that she said was flying off the shelves at the bookstore. It’s called Do Hard Things and it was written Alex and Brett Harris, two Christian twins that are nineteen (I believe). They mention something they call a “rebolution” which they define as a “teenage rebellion against low expectations.” That’s sort of a different subject, but around the same time, we covered historical revolutions in my World History class. All of this got me thinking about revolutionaries and what it meant to be one. Let’s get the definition of that one…

Revolutionist -person who advocates or takes part in a sudden, complete or marked change in something

Lately, I’ve been focusing a lot on my dreams. Last year, about this time, my biggest dream was to work at Six Flags during the summer. I sort of scoff at that now seeing as my aspirations are so much larger. One of the biggest is to be a revolutionist. I want to change my world in any way I know how, but that’s proving harder and harder each day seeing as I can’t even seem to change my life.

This whole post has sort of ranted and rambled, but I don’t really care. I have a point, I promise. And that is this: whether things are going great or not, they’ll change. And sometimes you have to be that change; sometimes you have to be your own revolutionist. Sometimes you’re the thing that needs to change. And all in all, we can change our world, God willing. It’s amazing how a God so unchanging can change our world so easily.

So, my very dear friends, don't get thrown off course. Every desirable and beneficial gift comes out of heaven. The gifts are rivers of light cascading down from the Father of Light. There is nothing deceitful in God, nothing two-faced, nothing fickle. He brought us to life using the true Word, showing us off as the crown of all his creatures.

James 1:16-18 The Message

If things aren’t going great, trust in God that they’ll get better. Draw closer to him so that if you’re the thing that needs to be changed, He can make the shift within you. Don’t just amble along, waiting for things to get better, whining until they do as you stubbornly believe you’re perfect the way you are.

If things are going great, thank God for it. Take the time to grow close to Him so that you can have a firm foundation if things do get tough eventually. You were never promised that life would be a cake walk, but you should enjoy it when it’s beautiful.

I didn’t have a song specifically set for this blog to be about, but after I searched my ipod for any music with the word “change” in it, Sleepyhead by Passion Pit came up. I imagine it’s because the album is Chunk of Change but whatever. At first I thought, “yeah, this song has nothing to do with this post.” But in actuality, on further examination of the words I realized it kind of does. You can interpret them the way you like, but after a google search I found someone that pointed it out as having the vague meaning of giving up your troubles. The words are pretty sporadic and confusing, so I guess it really is open to interpretation.

Nevertheless, I have a single memory tied to this song. It’s a short one though. One night, I was listening to this song and I made a vow to myself to never stop writing and take change as it comes. That was two years ago, and though I’ve resisted change many times since then, I’m proud to say I’ve never stopped writing.

This song is also very appropriate as I really need sleep right now.

P.S. The pic is once again mine. I took it on the front lawn in Oak Cliff this weekend. The hula hoopers for the Mardi Gras parade started showing up about three hours before the actual thing started. They looked colorful so I snapped a picture with hipstamatic. I love that app.

Hope you enjoyed my rambling. Goodnight!

Wake Me Up When September Ends: The Delusional Dreamer

There are a lot of things I refuse to let go of. My delusions are one of them.

Wake Me Up When September Ends by Green Day

I have a secret: the real reason I post vague quotes and lyrics as my status because I’m not bold enough to say what I’m really feeling. And for whatever reason, I don’t always feel comfortable just telling someone I’m sad about whatever because then I feel too whiny. So I spew it to the facebook world through words that aren’t mine, because I also have no idea how to say what I am really feeling in my own words. I remember several months ago, I got the idea for a character in the mess I call my novel to speak in quotes because he was too unsure of his own words. I later had the epiphany that essentially that character was turning into me.

Today wasn’t very fun. Not gonna’ lie. However, for every not so amazing day, there’s always a sad song. This is tonight’s anthem and tonight, I’m doing this for myself.

***

An unenthusiastic applause rose from the risers in the square little music room. A brown-haired girl handed the microphone over to a smiling woman with wavy hair. I clutched the side of the top row, perched on the edge in apprehension. Angelica looked up to me, wide-eyed, and swallowed hard. I let out a shaky breath as we nodded at each other. Mrs. Atchley smiled at us with her broad beam.

“Angelica? Shelby? Do you two wanna’ go next?” she asked.

We rose from our seats as all sixth grade eyes turned to us. I for one was thankful that there were only fifteen or so in the class. Since our portion of the choir was relatively small, we all knew each other. However, when I turned around to face each of them at the front of the class, it suddenly wasn’t so comforting anymore. Mrs. Atchley the microphone into my hand. I glanced around; apparently there was only one mic. I shoved it into Angelica’s hand and told her to hold it. We both took a deep breath and prepared ourselves mentally. I eyed the door.

Before I could consider bolting down the hallway, the music started. It was an acoustic riff that reminded me of all the times my dad used to sit on the coffee table and play his old guitar. We had decided to sing Wake Me Up When September Ends several weeks before, though I really don't remember why. It didn't hold much significance for me then. Another deep breath and the first note rang out and all I could hear was Angelica’s voice. Her confidence was drowning out my meek tone by the end of the second line. I had to step it up. I began to match my volume, but my intensity wasn’t the same. I didn’t care. By the time the electric guitar stepped in for the old acoustic, I felt the drum beat in my heart. I suddenly forgot everyone else in the room except for me and the girl I considered my best friend at the time.

We sang the words that suddenly held truth in our eyes. For me, I wasn’t just singing the same tired lyrics from the radio anymore. I actually listened to the words of an anthem about dreaming of a better future. They say that that's the epitome of an Aquarius and I had learned long ago that I was a Water Bearer.

When that last chord rung out, we looked at each other and everyone clapped. Angelica and I exchanged a smile and reluctantly gave up the mic before returning to our seats. I remember Angelica sang another duet with some other girl, but I didn’t care. I was happy. I had conquered my fear and suddenly, that song had me thinking of September. It must’ve been May at the time because Mrs. Atchley assigned us solos and duets towards the end of the year, well after our spring concert.

Little did I know what September would hold. It was probably the pivotal point in my life when I began to grow up, and actually started worrying about the future. Whether I met unknown tomorrows with eagerness or anxiety, I forevermore would be looking forward. When September Ends, goodness, what a thought! I wondered what fall would be like.

 My summer would be mostly boring and if I had known then what I know now, I would’ve wished to fall asleep until October. Things were great at Bebensee. I had built up a lot of great friends over the seven years I had spent there, and I never would’ve dreamed of it getting any better. However, when I look back at the times I had in those seven years, they were nothing compared to what was coming once the September of 2007 ended. Don’t get me wrong, that little elementary school produced some pretty amazing people I’m lucky enough to still call friends. You know who you are.

In the fall of 2007 I left Arlington Independent School District for good and began going to a private school in Forth Worth. Three years later, I found myself listening to this song, wishing September would end already. I was starting a new school again, and I wasn’t really nervous, I was just ready and looking forward to the better tomorrow I expected. I had spent an entire summer at Six Flags, and I still really felt like I didn’t know anyone yet (people actually started to know who I was in the fall). I wasn’t in the mood for anymore new people, and that was a kind of cruddy mood to have but nonetheless... Last summer, I was ready for September to be over because I had this stubborn delusion that things were just going to be absolutely wonderful past then and I wasn't going to have to lift a finger, at least once I got into the sing of things. And when they were simply okay and not totally amazing, I got frustrated.

It’s now March. March Fourth, two-thousand eleven to be exact. And suddenly, this song is my anthem again. More delusions I suppose, but this is something I can do something about. Today, I found a picture online that said “This is a wake up call. Do whatever it takes to get where you need to be. There’s still hope. Wake up.” I think that's going to be my new philosophy. In the song Blue Skies by Noah and the Whale, the third or so line says, "I'll do anything to be happy, because blue skies are coming." I've also been listening to that one a lot. I definitely recommend it for all your grey days.

Ever since two Septembers ago, I’ve been writing. Well, that’s sort of a lie. I’ve been writing since kindergarten, but never has it been this intense and constant. I always used to write in spurts, suddenly deciding on sporadic days that it’s time to pump out a short story or whatever. But ever since that one September that got me writing again, I haven’t stopped. Over the course of almost two years, I have started about thirteen different novels (and that is not an exaggeration, I counted) and failed miserably at finishing any of them. It’s hilarious really. And last year my new year’s resolution was to write a book, but I didn’t do so hot on that one either, seeing as just that year I changed the story I was writing twelve times.

In November of 2010 I like to think I struck gold. I spent a weekend in Washington State and that’s when the words started coming. I remember the first sentence that flew into my head, seemingly out of nowhere, the Sunday we were driving to the airport to go home. I wrote it down then glanced out the window at the passing forest and trees like nothing you would ever imagine here. I had found my muse; Washington was like something out of a dream. More words kept coming; plots and characters were coming out of nowhere! The craziest thing has been the dialogue. I guess it’s kind of insane to hear voices, but periodically my character’s dialogue just flies into my head. Conversations from nowhere. Maybe it is pretty insane, but I figure if I write it down, it’s just being creative.

I’d like to think that this is the novel I’m actually going to finish because I’ve been working on it for about four months now and I have more text for it than any of my previous works. I haven’t gotten bored yet, though my thoughts are in serious need of reorganization. What began with one sentence morphed into my greatest idea yet.

And there’s a reason I’m playing this song on repeat right now. My goal is to finish my book over Spring Break, God willing, of course. Maybe that’s wishful thinking, but if I buckle down I bet I can do it. I want to finish up my draft by summer break. During summer, I want to get a literary agent and start working towards getting my book published, if it isn’t just really horrible. Maybe it's silly, but it's my goal and I don't plan on giving up any time soon.

This is my biggest dream right now. It’s everything that I’m clinging to, and I’m too stubborn to give up now. I’m adamant on making this aspiration into reality. I’ve always wanted to be a writer, and nothing is going to stop me. Even if I never get a page published, I plan on writing until the day I die. I want to inspire the world with my words. I want to make my mark on this world, and it seems writing is the best way I know how.

So whenever times get rough, like tonight, I listen to this song and wonder if I can make my biggest dream come true by September. I often wonder where I’ll be by then. Who knows? Though I hope wherever it is, I’ll be happy. And if that’s a delusion, well get over it. I'm remined of another lyric from 1999 by Prince. "I was dreaming when I wrote this, so sue me if I go to fast."

I’m a dreamer. I’m not denying it. But I'm more than just that. I’m a determined, resolute, adamant, stubborn girl who believes in the beauty of her dreams and has faith in a Lord who is making her paths straight, I’m gonna’ make my dreams come true. I’m gonna change the world. And you are free to join me.

Btdub, the picture is mine. I took it in Downtown last weekend and I must say I'm pretty proud ;) And please excuse any horrific typos. It's currently one in the morning and I've been up since six.

I’m going to sleep now. Wake me up when September Ends.

May all your dreams be sweet, those that compose your sleep and those that make your aspirations.

-Shelby Dyan Scheuchl

Summah: If We Ever Meet Again we'll Rock & Roll

To the tune of If We Ever Meet Again (feat Katy Perry) by Timbaland and Rock & Roll by Eric Hutchinson.

This one is dedicated to everyone I met this fateful summer from the guy that always confessed his undying love to me to the girl that couldn't stop talking about funnel cakes and stole all my baseballs from catrack. I'm sorry I can't remember any of your names right now...

Some of my family members worked at Six Flags back in the seventies. My aunt and uncle always reminisce about their days at the park. The way they portrayed it, it sounded like a never-ending party that paid you, enticing right? For a good year after the first time my parents toted me out to the park, we would pass Six Flags on 360 and I would sing “that’s my Six Flags!” Yeah, I was a cute kid. When I was nine, I decided I wanted to work there one day and began counting down the years until I was old enough. Fifteen. It once seemed such a distant age. Regardless, working at Six flags was always one of my dreams.

So this summer, I went up to the human resources department, filled out heaps of forms and endured about three shaky interviews. Games was my department of choice and sure enough, one day in June I was offered the job. I happily accepted.

I got a job at Six Flags this summer. And it was an experience I will never forget. Wanna know what a typical day was like? Well, I’m gonna’ tell you anyways.

***

I barreled down the highway in the passenger seat with Katy Perry and Timbaland flirting a melody in my ears. “I’ll never be the same, if we ever meet again. Won’t let you get away, if we ever meet again.” My headphones were stuffed in my ears and my mom didn’t typically protest. I didn’t have to be a morning person yet; no one would bother me to sell, sell, sell or shove a microphone in my hands for a short while.

It was the same everyday. Roll up to the employee parking lot. Make it through security without getting griped at to tuck in your shirt. Walk in to the office. Badge in. Take your time slip. Leave the office. Look up at the Giant. Think “wow that drop looks steeper than yesterday.” Walk over the train tracks. Enter Mexico. Walk through Spain. Pass the canteen. Listen to Rock & Roll by Eric Hutchinson as it played over Six Flags Radio (and they played it every morning). Wind up in U.S.A. Pass a couple rides. Duck behind Top Glo (that’s the water gun game for those of you that aren’t devoted enough to memorize the names of all the games). End up in the game’s office where everyone is milling about. Hand over your time slip through a little hole in a window. Chat. Head to your respective area. Find your supervisor. Start cleaning counters. Scream at the kids running into the park to be the first in line at whatever ride. Get your positions. Start spieling.

And that’s just the first twenty minutes. Working in games definitely brought me out of my shell a bit. I’m still a bashful chap, but I’ll scream at you to play my game without a second thought. All in all, working games was pretty amazing. I got to make people laugh with the random things I would say over the microphone. Sure I got darts thrown at me by children but it was all good because I had safety goggles! No worries right? I also got shot with the water guns all the time.

Funny story about that. One of my favorite tales from this summer happened my second week on the job. I was talking with my supervisor, Matthew, at Top Glo about whatever. Another supervisor walked past my game, stopped, and turned back. He glanced at me through his red Ray-Bans and he couldn’t have been much older than me. Before I could say anything he leaned over, flipped the switch for one of the guns, jumped into my booth, turned on the game, jumped back out and took aim from the other side of the counter. Matthew grabbed his cowboy hat and ran. Next thing I know, this supervisor had turned one of the guns on me and was shooting me with freezing cold water! I laughed and screamed and shut off the game. And then he disappeared. I didn’t complain though. It was over one-hundred degrees outside as it typically was.

Another time I was working gun-ball, the game where you shoot foam balls at three cups in an attempt to knock them over. The prize for gun-ball was a guitar and people refused to believe the simplicity of that silly game. I argued endlessly with people that the plastic cups were not magnetic and I would often hand them the little things to prove that there was nothing special about the stupid plastic cup. One time a group of guys came up and began discussing whether or not they wanted to play. I convinced one to give it a try and he paid for three shots. He knocked them over in one. I was shocked but handed over his guitar gladly. Next thing I know the rest of the guys are shelling out their money to play too. They told me they were going to start a band now and write a song in honor of me. That was probably the best day of work apart from the day that the guy that always claimed he was in love with me told me, sincerely, that my smile was pretty. I was flattered both times. And I am still waiting for my song to show up on the radio.

So this summer was life-changing for me. I made a lot of friends and when I returned in the fall, I found that people were beginning to know my name.. I was finally starting to belong. And then, things ended on a sort of sour note. My last day was in November. For Holiday in the Park, half of the park closed and the fifteen-year-olds weren’t scheduled. I told them I would reapply, but I never went back to do so. Oh well. Point is there will never be anything like this summer. I’ll never forget any of the amazing people I met and the experiences had. I haven't signed up to go back this year. I don't think I will. Thing would be different and I'm just fine with the way I left things. This summer was probably the best yet.

So if you know me as the quiet kid at school, I promise I can be anything but. Just ask me to start spieling and I will never shut up:

“Hey! How ‘bout y’all right over there? You guys wanna’ give it a shot? Aww

come on all I need is just two

players- only two players

-to start the next race!

Aww come on up!

Give it a shot!!!!

There’s a guaranteed

winner everytime

which means

you’re walking

away with a

prize every.

Single.

Time.

You.

 Play."

And it goes on and on. As they made us say, “Have a six flags day!”

Gee. I miss summer.

A Drop in the Ocean: The house is open

It was an April day, not too long ago, when this particular song came to me. It’s another great memory of mine.

            I sort of started this blog on a whim. I just sat down at my computer and decided, “I think I’ll make a blog today.” In fact, that was yesterday. Anyway, I have always wanted to go through my entire playlist on iTunes and write down what each song means to me. It’s so strange to listen to a song and be whisked into a heavy nostalgia. Memories. They make me smile. But I guess that this is going to become that: a documentation of what music means to me. Huh. That’s weird. I’m actually accomplishing one of my goals. Alright then.

            So this is the song I’m going to write about tonight, requested by my dear friend Callie. It's called A Drop in the Ocean by Ron Pope. And there’s a story to go along with it. It involves four of my friends, along with a whole cast of characters. And by a “whole cast”, I literally mean the entire cast of my first high school musical.

***

“Alright guys,” Kailey said as a song currently playing drifted to a close, “You have to listen to my favorite song now.”

I believe Hope moaned something along the lines of, “Oh goodness, Kailey.”

Megan seized her phone and turned off the music to set the stage for Kailey’s song. Callie ran her fingers over the maroon keyboard of her phone, typing a hasty message and slapped it closed, giving her attention back to Kailey. We sat on the tile floor of the windowless room in a mismatched assemblage of pajamas, t-shirts, soffe shorts, and school uniforms. From our heads sprouted little pastel curlers which held our hair wrapped up tight to our scalps. It was a necessary sacrifice for our production, though no one stifled a complaint about them. The flower-shaped lights flooded our dressing room. Their dim glow made a warm setting for a memory and the song began.

“A drop in the ocean, a change in the weather. I was praying that you and me might end up together. It’s like wishing for rain as I stand in the desert, but I’m holding you close because you are my heaven.”

Kailey smiled as the other four present slowly fell in love with it, myself included. We all agreed it was a good song, and by the end of the night I would find myself calling across the room asking what the name of the song was once more. My dad had granted me one song download. It was no doubt what it would be.

Throughout the entire week, we went through waves of emotion ranging from exhaustion to elation at the Scott. Everyday we ate lunch on the prim lawn of the theater. Every night we slipped on tights and heels along with our elegant dresses. And by the time rehearsals were over, and the big night came, the five of us knew Ron Pope’s song just as well as we knew the numbers in the show. Everyday we continued the same routine, practice, lunch, practice, wardrobe, practice, and then the house was open. And what a phrase! “The house is now open.” I still get excited when I hear that. At those words, we stubbornly quieted as a low buzz echoed from stage doors that led into the audience. Slowly the time ticked down until the music began, we crept onto the stage, and waited, frozen in the darkness until those velvet curtains swung aside to reveal statuesque townspeople. I still get chills thinking about that moment when suddenly all actors are exposed to an unassuming audience. And throughout the entire week, this song was our anthem. Our theme song. It’s melody was sprinkled throughout the week and no one seem to grow tired of it. Each time we sang it through dressing room doors and backstage, we all learned to love it a little bit more.

Another memory I am reminded of when I think of the musical involved another song, Cupid Shuffle. It took place during intermission of the last show. But that’s another story for another post. However, I bet if certain people read this they will understand what I’m talking about when I say, “I’m pretty sure people from your period didn’t do that.” I still laugh about that to this day. You guys are great.

After that last performance, it is a tradition to go to IHOP. This was of course after striking the set which is sad and also just blegh. All everyone talks about the whole last night is IHOP, IHOP, IHOP! And we were there until three in the morning.

When I finally got home, after everyone was asleep, I did something I’ve kept a secret until now. I turned this song on and for one final time I danced the waltz in the dark of my room at three o’clock in the morning. That night I went to sleep with a smile on my face and my hair laden with hairspray. I just want to say that I love the Cinderella cast. Here’s to the memories.

And here’s to all the girls that love A Drop in the Ocean. I’m dedicating this one to you guys and all the memories of that week.

And I’m smiling because it happened.

:)

Do You Remember: Living in the past...

So I have officially started a blog, and it was rather difficult for me as an aspiring writer. I may have been five when the new millenium turned over, but I was dragged into the twenty-first century kicking and screaming. Personally, I would've rather been born in the early 20th century. Then I could've been a reporter for the Times with a pen tucked behind my ear, sitting at a paper-cluttered desk as the sound of a thousand typewriters echoed in the background. But then again I couldn't type an endless number of words into my laptop every chance I get. And I certainly wouldn't have a pair of headphones stuffed in my ear, connected to my iPhone with a playlist of exactly 561 songs. I digress.

But music has always inspired me. In fact, I  imagine it's what got me back into writing, well, that and Stephenie Meyer who gave me the idea to use music as inspiration. But I don't want to talk about her. It's kind of a touchy subject with me. But I guess I have to give her credit. Because of her I have bought about two hundred dollars worth of music just this year. Never before then have I heard a song and said, "Ahh that would make a good story!"-or- "That reminds me of what that character is struggling with right now!" I digress. Again.

So one of the songs I have recently bought is "Do You Remember" by Jay Sean. I was a little hesitant to buy this particular song because of all the memories it brings back. Memories are kind of a touchy subject right now as well. But I've been living in the past for too long.
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We all stood around a black square on the ground that was designated as the dance floor. There was a slight buzz around the square as we all watched on. The song was "Do You Remember". We all knew it, but something about it now gave me chills. I've always been a little passionate about certain things, and particularly the idea of perfect moments. This was a perfect moment. The seniors owned the floor now. They danced like no one was watching. In this dance I saw what I wanted to be. This class loved each other. They were a family. And it was the last dance. The last dance of formal. The last dance of the night. The last dance that the seniors would have. This was it. It was all coming to an end, wasn't it? The stage had been cleared solely for the seniors. They lost themselves in the music. This song was so appropriate. "Do you remember? Do you remember, all the times we had?" I may not have been dancing that moment, but the moment was perfect for me as well. I pushed the thought out of my mind. It was all coming to an end, wasn't it? None of us could deny, everything was going to be different. I was always worried of leaving my friends behind, but I guess I never thought it was actually going to happen. And it did. But as I climbed into the car with three amazing friends another song was playing. Justin Bieber. The perfect moment was passed. But the after party was to ensue and I would be just fine that night.

Fast forward to the end of summer. I bought this song. Listened to it once and didn't listen to it again until tonight when it came up on shuffle. I can be sad all I want, but I found a quote last night that pretty much sums this up.

"Don't cry because it's over. Smile because it happened."
-Dr. Seuss

I'm smiling.

I'm going to leave it at that. There isn't much to say for the past. It's over now, and I'm looking forward to my future. It's getting brighter everyday. I thank God for the memories I hold close to my heart. And here's to perfect moments.

"So long, since you've been missing. It's good to see you again. How you, how you doing? And how about we don't let this happen again? There's nothing left to say. Don't waste another day."

This is my journey, inspired by music.

:)