Kick Drum Heart


Start the car and write the note

8:33 PM
Car ride home from ESM, on the I-90 W
Listening to: “I and Love and You” (The Avett Brothers)

Would I have believed a year ago that I would be coming home from an audition at the Eastman School of Music? Would I have believed it if I’d known I would feel exhilarated, ferociously excited?

Maybe not. And maybe one year from now again I’ll have accomplished something else I would’ve never dreamed I could do.

For now, it’s more than enough. I’ll be riding on this bright, vivacious joy for a long time.



This & who I used to be, don’t matter much at all to me

Sometimes I think in pictures. Sometimes it’s words, sometimes in half-jumbled sentences with excited images tumbling one over another through my mind.

It’s been the words, the past few days. I’ve just been in a writing mood lately. The colors are there, too: vivid, bold, and frenzied. Happy.

That’s weird. By all rights, I should be stressed and angsty.

But I’m happy. I’m happy that I don’t have to worry about school: even though I still have to catch up on my piles of English and economics. Plus there’s that yearbook thing. I’m happy that I don’t have to fret over boys: the only one I’d seriously considered for a while has found a skinny skanky girl.
That should irritate me. And it doesn’t.

I think spring is coming. That’s the only possible solution. It really just doesn’t make sense for me to be so thrilled with life, and want to write all the time.

And this is without coffee.

So I’m confused, but I’m overjoyed about it. Go figure. It’s crazy, and I love it. Thanks, God.



And still singing

It’s been a long day, even though I don’t know why, really. I beat Guitar Hero Aerosmith on Hard, so I felt accomplished.

The broken whammy bar started working after what might be considered one of the most magnificent hours of my life.

Today, I received a packet of papers in the mail. Within those papers, I was informed that I’ve been accepted into the Conference All-State Women’s Choir.

Soprano One, son.

I texted Emma.

Emma and Kiener called me. Emma told me she was calling Lerew.

I called Mrs. Ripley. Mrs. Ripley was ecstatic. Mrs. Ripley says she’s going to tell everyone she knows.

I texted Heather. By then it was eight at night and I was on the way to Franklinville for my sister’s football game (she cheerleads) and I didn’t want to hold conversation across spotty service areas in a moving vehicle. Hopefully she’ll call me back when it’s good for her, and if I don’t hear from her by tomorrow afternoon, I’m calling for sure. I’m so excited.

Nothing could put a damper on that news, except I’m tired. I’m just downright exhausted, so my enthusiasm is going to be shelved until tomorrow. I’ll siphon it back into my system then and do something really productive. Earlier today I decorated and established my JCC and creative writing binders, and got the rest of my materials ready and in my bag for school. As of tonight, there are only five more full days before my last first day of high school.

I just want to live it. I feel like I say this every time I blog, but dammit, I want to feel and exist in every single moment I’m blessed with. I want to feel alive, I want to experience everything good this world has to offer. And some of the bad, because otherwise there’s nothing to measure the great against.

If today was any indication of where hard work and practice and dedication and passion can get me, though, I don’t think I’ll have too difficult a time living each minute of my senior year. I worked my ass off for that one hundred on the audition paper. Puccini might have been proud of me, even.

So. Conference All State, here I come. And everything else. Watch out. I have a craving, a burning thirst for life. I plan to quench it.



What if what-ifs get too overwhelming, too early?

I woke up this morning wanting to make lists, wanting to start school, and wanting to get things done. It then occurred to me that I will be completely counterproductive if I have all these grand plans to make things happen but no notion or direction toward how to actually accomplish them.

So today I guess I’ll be sifting through the papers downstairs. I am going to try and finish my reading cards– although I’m not sure how happy I’ll be re-submerging myself in the hazy medical green fog of lobotomies and Big-boobed Nurse. I might try making lists: what I need for school, what I have for school, what I need to do in order to be ready for school, what I should be doing so I don’t suck when I go back to school.

I’m a smidgeon excited.

Here’s the downside, the only one that I can see.

I had a dream last night that life flew by.
I woke up and discovered what the hell, that’s not a dream, really.
In my dream, I texted Caitlin in September, and the next thing I knew, it was her birthday in November. And I hadn’t talked to her in all the time in between. Dumb.
Not going to happen, either.

It reminded me of “Marley & Me.” The dream did: where at the beginning John and Jenny are twenty-ish and by the end they’re in their forties. All that time vanished in the span of two hours. Not even.

What if that happens to me? Life rocketing by so fast that all I catch of it is a blur? What if I waste it? What if I mess it up? What if I can’t fix my mistakes, or leave a friend when they need me, or end up giving up something I love without knowing it?

What if I don’t live life, and never even know the difference?



Loading spread…

“Loading spread” is what the yearbook site is telling me. Well hurry it up already, I only have fifteen minutes left before the four other girls and Mrs. Propp get here (to the school). Maybe even less than that. I’m finally supposed to be on a high-high-speed computer and it’s wasting my time loading?

Uhg, and I’m wasting time playing with wordpress. But honestly, I’m not going to wait around for the piece of shit to load. It needs to work, and work now. I’m a schedule, dammit. And my grandma’s computer is reasonably decent– I mean, it loads the site, which is more than I can say for my old school dial-up at home– but it’s no comparison to lightning-fast load time.

So I’m wondering where the hell my lightning loading is now. Piece of shit, piece of shit. I’m going to have to steadily fiddle with layouts all day today. It’s not the creating of them that is the tough part, it’s aligning everything and perfecting minute details that to the untrained eye might look normal. But to me, to anyone who knows the program, if it’s not right, it sucks. And I can’t handle that, not today. I have an agenda. I’m busy again.

As excited about that as I am, I want technology to cooperate.



“This is so trippy”

…that’s what Katie’s saying about Sonic the Hedgehog right now, anyhow.

What a day it’s been. My head is still working, grinding out new thoughts and ideas that I can’t really keep straight. Katie’s done a lot to help me with them, though. If you ever need someone to talk to (not that I’m advertising her to creep-asses) she’s your girl.

She’s going to start blogging again, too. I showed her how I revamped mine (I was so proud, haha) and now she’s excited. I am, too. Her brilliance should be make public for sure.

It’s magnificence can be located here. Anyone who’s reading this is highly advised to check it out :)

After Trank leaves today, I’m going to go have some fun. A form of stress relief, if you will. Today’s been filled with many pressing issues and I’m just sick to death of having my mind whirring away at me. So, I’m going out (but eventually into a house) and I’m going to enjoy an evening without reservations and without regrets. Therapeutic pizza-baking can only take one so far, you know.

At least, that’s how I hope the evening is going to play out. I’m just so bogged down with new and controversial ideas. I need to shake it off. It’s not that I mind thinking: I certainly don’t. But when it’s constant and unrelenting and heavy, that’s when I start to think I need a distraction.

Here’s to getting my mind off of things. Cheers.



Pillow be mine… later

I was so tired today. And less-than-energetic. And Little Richter wouldn’t shut up in keyboarding and it drove me insane. Plus, I have resumes and National Honor Society crap to do… not that it’s crap. It’s just stressful and time-consuming, when I have such little time to begin with.

It’s amazing I find time for this writing. I’m going to continue to find the time, though, because I’m sure this is good for me.

I really want to sleep right now. It’s too early, and I have things to do, but I really wouldn’t mind just drifting back into pillows and drowsing. It sounds so lovely, and peaceful.

I’m excited for tonight, though, I suppose. Play rehearsal, and then a basketball game to work (concessions). I hope play is productive. Sometimes we really don’t get anything done, and today, I’m honestly not feeling so peppy and friendly. I worry that I might get frustrated and cranky and bitchy. I hate it when I’m like that, despite how ruthless and powerful unchecked rantings make me feel (ruthless and powerful). It’s the after-bitching phase that sucks: the looks your friends give you and the muttering, and the sinking, awful feeling that maybe, shit, I just did something wrong.

Society disapproves of my bad mood. Oh no.



Red

I can’t wait.

I now have a kickass red and black dress to go with my kickass red shoes. I am pumped.

I am pumped for this dance (Winter Ball) and the opportunies for fun it’s providing. After homecoming, everyone (okay, Katie and I) werre like, “Ooh, we want another dance! I want to keep dancing !”

Now we can.

No reservations, is my game plan. It’s dark in there, so everyone’s comfort zones are more level, and I could, essentially, walk up to someone completely unknown and be like “dance with me.”

I might just do that.

Nothing stands in my way.
I am going to be wearing red.
My shoes, dress, underwear–
All are going to match.
And I am going to look kickass.

I can’t wait.