Kick Drum Heart


Always running in time

Well, I’m graduated. I still keep thinking about little silly details, though, in a weird sense. When I graduate, I’m straightening my hair. I’m wearing the gold shoes, I’m having people over after.

It’s really bizarre to think that such a supposed-to-be momentous occasion is over already.

Then again, there’s still the grad party, so I’ll have more closure then, I hope. More closure for this part of my life. High school was jam-packed with years that molded me into who I am. And it’s done with. Hardly any pomp and circumstance (except when the band played it), and now those years are flung behind me.

Ahead of me lies an array of choices. So, so many things to do, to try, to try for. I can’t envision much of it, but the possibilities are endless and I’ll leave them up to my imagination. I’ve got plans to achieve everything I can and everything I crave.

Right now I’m listening to the Avetts’ “Kick Drum Heart” (heavy irony here) and thinking that you can hear it said hundreds of times, but it’s still meaningful when it hits you. The realization that so many things change, but just as many others stay the same.

In five years I might still love The Avett Brothers and sit at my computer blogging. In five years my little sister will have graduated from Gowanda. In five years I will have graduated for a second time, but from Eastman School of Music (I hope). But I’ll be so different. I will have learned and experienced so, so much more.

I’ve learned and experienced so much in just the past two years. And I’ve changed, for the better (again, I hope). So has this little blog. From Amneris Blue to &a yellow xylophone, to a red bandana tribute. And finally to Kick Drum Heart.

I hate to mirror graduating and just fling the past away, but despite the fact that I adore this little blog, I’ve outgrown it a little. I’m starting a new blog from which I will share the memories I make this summer and (free time pending) throughout college.

You can find my new blogging home at this new site, although it won’t be up and running officially until Grandma and I rendezvous and pick out my laptop (so, a week and a half from now, ish).

And since this is the last post on this blog of over two years, I’ll close with an Avett Brothers’ quote that, I guess, is pretty fitting.

“There’s nothing like finding gold
Within the rocks hard and cold
I’m so surprised to find more
Always surprised to find more

I won’t look back anymore
I left the people that do
It’s not the chase that I love
It’s me following you.”

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It’s so strange

It’s so strange.

Since my last post, I have started a full-time job, recognized the severity of second-degree sunburn, watched four straight hours of instructional video, gone on my first official movie date (ever), and essentially revisited kindergarten in a completely non-G-rated manner. (It’s more of a PG-13, fyi, you sickos.)

But, um, yeah. So it’s been a fun three days so far.

It’s literally insane: it’s only been three days. And I’ve already played the marimba for what may be the last time, held hands with a blonde, and made two ice capps. Also discovered that it may not be physically possible to hang out with a guy my age that’s any more like my father. (Legitimately, the only thing he’s missing is a guitar obsession.) It’s really bizarre as hell but also, I won’t lie, really exciting and very, very different. I’m used to having to work at trying to get people to think of me in that way, at all. So.

That’s my story, and we’ll see if and when it changes. But I’ve been researching, as is myobsession, and I’m a little concerned. More later, though, because my retarded dog won’t shut up and needs food.



Last morning at Gowanda
14 June 2010, 12:19 am
Filed under: Writing

So I am sitting at the school right now. A bunch of people are on the roof but I am sitting here with Gus and Danielle and Jess, watching Aaron and Brendan play footsie with the soccer ball. I thought more people would be here, but this is just fine. More later for sure :)



Straw, please
13 June 2010, 4:19 am
Filed under: Writing

Well this sucks. That’s really all I have to say right now, and I’m sure that naturally it could be worse, but to be honest the next crappy situation I can think of off the top of my head would involve cannibals and people breaking into my house.

Right now I suffer from severe insomnia for the second night in a row due to vicious blisters from my previously beloved sunshine. The burn runs from my ankles up the backs of my legs, then from my lower back to my neck. And let me tell you, it freaking effing Sucks. I’ve been aloe-ing with the blue crap Doc suggested and as of fifteen minutes ago have discovered that walking is best left to those without swollen red skin hideously inflaming the backs of their knees.

I almost wish I could fall asleep and just zonk out. Seriously. The rain outside my cracked window and the soothing acoustic that is Jack Johnson are a pleasant lullaby amidst the sounds that quilt my little room. But I’ve got goosebumps all along my back and legs that are bizarrely offset by swamping heat.

And my mom signed us all up for grunt work at the Theatre tomorrow, which I would normally enjoy, but in my present state will find exquisite torture on so many levels.

Yepo. This Sucks.



Those who wish to sing

It reads on the board they gave me: “Those who wish to sing will always find a song.”

It’s just a little simple board. Three feet by six inches, I’d guess, with the words carved into it, laquered with black paint.

And it is so true.

This weekend I have busted my ass with members of Gowanda’s Historic Hollywood Theatre board and other volunteers. I mostly spent time working with Zach and Kiener (and occasionally Michelle, who usually was occupied with other things). We dealt with heavy loads of garbage, changed toilet paper in porta-potties, swept cigarette butts and shop-vacced puddles. We walked in the wet and took forty-minute power naps in the trailer. We counted to ten (beer tokens in Dixie cups) literally thousands of times. I helped my mom and Karen sell beer tokens to hundreds of people wasted or wanting to get wasted. Then, finally, Zach, Kiener, Nickolas and I assisted Randy, Jono and the stage guys with dismantling the heavy (mostly) aluminum stage.

I am beat. And I fucking love it.

You know, people search all their lives for something to live for, something they want to work for. Something they can shape their lives around.

I have mine. The arts and the effect they can have on people are astonishing. For this theatre, there is an annual event that brings together members of the community and bikers from all over the country. Money is raised and funds go to restoring a historical landmark that will draw more culture and revenue to a village that has pooled more strength and unity together over the past twelve months than most areas will see in a decade.

That’s why I’m here. To live, to sing, to have fun. To value my friends, family, and the fact that I am able to appreciate and execute hard, break-your-back work as well as any boy.

I know what I love and am completely willing to bust my ass for it.

It’s been a great weekend.



Marimba day
4 June 2010, 12:22 pm
Filed under: My Day, Random Thoughts

I literally have nothing to do right now. It’s 1:13 PM and in all honestly it would have been twenty times more productive if I’d stayed at home or gone down to work at the Happening.

I am really hungry right now. I forewent lunch because I don’t have any money, and breakfast was coffee, pretty much. I wish it was the end of the day already. But in the same breath I don’t, because I’m nervous. I’m opening the Happening tonight at 7. Singing the SSB and “Don’t Stop Believin’.” What if I screw up? The star spangled banner is way more complicated than anyone ever gives it credit for.

Oh, and as for that boy thing. You know, the object of my melancholy yesterday?

There’s really nothing I can do about it. I should just come to terms with that from the very beginning of anything. Everything we do in life is a reaction to circumstances. So pretty much, anything I do will only cause him to react a certain way, and if… oh, whatever. I’m done thinking about it. The bell for twelfth period is going to ring in less than four minutes and I want to get the hell out of Denmark/here.

I’ll probably go down to the band room to practice, but who knows… Usually every time I say I’m going to do something I end up involved in an activity completely different. Hopefully whatever I do will be enjoyable, because right now, with no food and practically no friends here (it’s senior trip day) I’m bored out of my freaking mind. At least the marimba doesn’t communicate in ways I don’t enjoy.



Seriously, I need a life. Or xylophone. Or something

God, why do I do this to myself? I feel like a goddamn twelve-year-old. “Oh my gosh, I think he likes meeeee!”

A week later: “Yeah, he definitely looks at me all the time.”

Three days after that: “Oh man, yep. And he blushes too!”

Two weeks, one conversation, and three self-initiated texting sessions later: “What the fuck, I am probably the biggest idiot I know.”

Honestly, I am either just really, really dumb or get in over my head. Every. Freaking. Time.

Or else I just freak myself out. It simply can’t be that a kid likes me and wants to get to know me for honest reasons. That wouldn’t make any sense (especially this close to the end of the year).

I guess I’m just a huge miserable blob of f.m.l. right now. It happens every time I am inclined to believe that I suck at relationships being potentially interested in someone. No matter that I’m completely talented in general and fairly competent at flirting (with boys I’m not interested in). No matter that I’m not a hag, precisely.

Nope. I guess I’m too scary or something. But whatever. After this year I won’t have to worry about boys. I’m going to be completely and wholly focused on my career and kicking music ass. So screw the stupid insignificant impact dumb boys (or dumb me) have on my mood. I’m going to sleep, and then tomorrow I’m going to practice all day, then work, then sing, then work, then go home and sleep some more. And that’s how it’s going to go down, and how I’m going to move past this.