painted ship upon a painted ocean

I feel like the Ancient Mariner. I'm on a ship, drifting in the doldrums with no crew but the dead bodies of my compatriots, no water, no food, and no hope of salvation in sight. Water like witch's oil, slimy creatures crawling with slimy legs upon the slimy sea, and no other souls in the area. Just me and God.

When I was little, my favorite book began: "I see the moon, and the moon sees me. Does anyone know I'm alone here at sea?" The clues are all there, if one cared to look. But no one has, and I don't blame them. It's easier to mind your own business than to be caught up in what is not your concern. Everyone has a clue, but no one has cared to put them together.

Tomorrow, my friend Toothpick is getting married. A lot of her bridesmaids are my good friends, back from college, and naively, I thought things would be the same. Wrong. They've moved on to quarters and classes and roommates and floor parties and crazy professors, and I've been left behind. Granted, I did see this coming, but "I told you so" never solved anything. The same feeling of shyness and aloneness has invaded the relationships I have with the few people I trust. No, I'd never bring up confidences in the middle of Toothpick's bachelorette party, but I had hoped that I'd see something, anything, that would show that the friendship is not just withering. Wrong again.

The same feeling of aloneness, shyness, quiet resignation from my stranger-friends is also found around the people I'd previously called mates. Now I'm just confused, and I don't know exactly what to do. I've told these friends things I wouldn't have had I known they'd moved on this much. My fault, not theirs. I don't blame them. I guess the only thing to do is not trust them with more confidences. I don't know. 


"Alone, alone, all, all alone,
Alone on a wide wide sea!
And never a saint took pity on
My soul in agony.

The many men, so beautiful!
And they all dead did lie;
And a thousand thousand slimy things
Lived on; and so did I."

B

Paranoia

For a couple weeks, I've been a little concerned about friendships. More specificially, how I feel around my friends.

I'm the type of person who questions everything - and I mean everything - before doing anything. Before saying anything. I examine my motives, my opinions, my hopes, anything that could affect my decision very closely before taking action.

Imagine my surprise and discomfort, then, when I discovered the following fact: I was feeling oddly around my guy-friends, and whatever this unidentified feeling was, it was strongly influencing my actions. Now that's an embarrassing realization.

Let me explain why: I don't take actions without knowing why I'm doing them. Now, I've got an emotional memory going back to 2005, when I was 12. By emotional memory, I mean, I can recognize emotions I've had since that time.

I haven't felt whatever it is I'm feeling for as long as I can remember.  For a while, my working theory was that it was what people commonly call "a crush." Problem being, I haven't had a crush since my *ahem* boy-crazy days (circa 2003-2004), so I wouldn't know one if it introduced itself with a handshake. I hoped it wasn't, but I couldn't know.  "Crush" seemed the only option.

That is, until I realized that I felt the same way around pretty much all my friends left here in Washington. Including the gal-friends. If the feeling is a "crush," I really don't like the implication.

So it can't be a crush. I won't allow it. Then I got to thinking. This feeling is remarkably similar to my first day of co-op, my first day of choir, my first day of speech club. In other words, the closest match I have is shyness.

This new implication, while still upsetting, is nonetheless less disturbing  than being attracted to all my friends.

...

But still. Shyness? really? I'm shy around the only people I can call friends who I still physically interact with every week? I'm shy around the two guys I spent over 70 hours with this summer? I'm shy around my duo-partner, Calvin? Around girls I paged with? Around people I call my friends?

And yet, I still treat them as strangers. Are they friends of necessity?

How can I call people my friends if they don't know me, and I don't know them?

I don't know. I just really, don't know.

B

Paradox

***PARADOX: Bad people do good things***

If any of you are like me, you've heard words to this effect in the past. Or at least, heard statements that, when added together, form this conclusion.

But if you are like me, then you probably haven't thought about it too much. Well, I didn't, until the past couple of days.

So here's the thing: Us humans love categorizing each other.

Us and Them
Normal and Different
Introvert and Extrovert


Well, you get the idea. We classify each other. And one of the most time-honored labels is the moral label: Good People vs. Bad People.

We see it all the way into the dawn of history - the people we like are "good," the people we don't are "bad." And with the bad ones, we have nothing in common. Nothing they do are things we approve of.

Now, I'm all for a black and white view of morality: Some actions are inherently good, some actions are inherently evil. But things get a little grey when we get to classifying people as "good" and "evil."  It's the human element.

See, I believe that people are inherently bad. If given a choice of admitting you broke the lamp or denying all knowledge of the lamp's existence, a person in their natural, non-religious, non-moral state will deny the lamp's very existence.

We're all bad. Even Ghandi. Even Mother Theresa. Especially Barack Obama.

*ahem* This is Problematic's editor. The political opinions expressed in this blog post are the sole opinions of Problematic's, not the publishing staff. This includes but is not limited to the fingers, the keyboard, the eyes, and lastly, the editor.

Like I said. Every single person on this earth is naturally going to choose to do the wrong thing. This is where it gets interesting. See, humans don't exist alone without any sort of morality. Look around your world. Churchs, synagogues, mosques, kingdom halls, meditation centers - they all jostle for position in the minds of the pious.

Humans are moral creatures. With the exception of a few atheists who don't believe in them (but still act on them), we can see those inherent morals. What are they? As a Christian, I believe God gave me and you a conscience, to remind us of what is right and what is wrong. But we can argue about that later.

The point is, religions have sprouted throughout the world, teaching of right thought, of right living as they go. And with religion comes the distinctions.

Us and Them
Enlightened and Pagan
Right and Wrong
Good and Bad

Anyone who thinks differently than me is automatically branded with those labels: Different, Pagan, Wrong, Bad - specific words don't matter but the sentiment that remains is the same. He's not One Of Us. Because someone who is One Of Us is good. They think like us, they believe like us.

But that doesn't make us More Good. We're all such awful, stinking, disgusting, slimy, gross, disturbing examples of humanity that a little religion isn't going to do anything about it.

Even Christians. Our "religion" won't save us. Just because we don't drink alcohol or date or chew tobacco or follow any of the legalistic trappings the church has put on us as a prerequisite for knowing God doesn't make us more holy, more justified, More Good than anyone else. We're all in for it, and being a Lutheran or a Seventh-Day Adventist won't save you.

So how does this fit in with the paradox?

***PARADOX: Bad people do good things***

Let's take an example. Say, one of the terrorists who helped fly a plane into the World Trade Centers on 11 September, 2001. (Yes, yes, terribly American-centric, but tough. I live in America.)

Now, what he did was wrong, evil. Taking the lives of almost 3,000 people is completely evil. And the man himself, he was evil.

Just like me. Just like you.

But that doesn't mean every action he took was evil. His family - he may have loved them dearly. He gave alms to the poor. He did good things, but his final act was an act of evil. This is an extreme example, I know. But it applies to many, many more people than we feel comfortable admitting.

And this is where things get sticky. These labels that we arbitrarily stick on others, they don't like shades of grey. Either you're one of Us, or you're one of Them. With us or Against us.

But as beings with great capacity for evil, we also have capacity for good. We have shades of grey.

***PARADOX: Bad people do good things.***

You will not live a perfect life. You'll never even come close. One good action may not make you a good person, but it is good, it is right, it is noble, honorable, self-sacrificial, nonetheless.

Think on that one for a while.
B

Jar of Hearts

It's high time I started doing these again. They're enjoyable for me: I do not know, nor care if my beloved readers could care less.

Let me introduce you to this song called Jar of Hearts by Christina Perri. The lovely Grey and delightful Ophelia introduced me to this song last week, and I have highly enjoyed it. Although, I have a confession to make: when I first heard that song, I immediately thought of one of my friends who is a guy. My second thought was "Problematic, don't be so uncharitable."

I really enjoy this song because of the resolve evident in the lyrics. In a lot of songs about failed romance, the lyrics are sappy, come to no conclusion, and waffle about the singer's love like a girl picking petals off of a daisy. Not so with Jar of Hearts. The speaker concludes "so don't come back for me. Don't come back at all" without sounding mad or extremely grumpy. It's resolved.

The second, greater reason I like this song is because the lyrics are superbly written. I won't spoil it for you, but the images and ideas that Perri conjures up in just a few words are brilliant.  If I could be half of a songwriter as she, I would count myself lucky.

Ladies and Gents, without further ado:

Jar of Hearts by Christina Perri

No I can’t take one more step towards you
Cause all that’s waiting is regret
And don’t you know I’m not your ghost anymore
You lost the love I loved the most

I learned to live half alive
And now you want me one more time

And who do you think you are
Running around leaving scars
Collecting your jar of hearts
And tearing love apart
You’re gonna catch a cold
From the ice inside your soul
So don’t come back for me
Who do you think you are

I hear you're asking all around
If I am anywhere to be found
But I have grown too strong
To ever fall back in your arms

I learned to live half alive
And now you want me one more time

And who do you think you are
Running around leaving scars
Collecting your jar of hearts
And tearing love apart
You’re gonna catch a cold
From the ice inside your soul
So don’t come back for me
Who do you think you are

And it took so long just to feel alright
Remember how to put back the light in my eyes
I wish I would have missed the first time that we kissed
Cause you broke all your promises
And now you're back
You don’t get to get me back

And who do you think you are
Running around leaving scars
Collecting your jar of hearts
And tearing love apart
You’re gonna catch a cold
From the ice inside your soul
Don’t come back for me
Don’t come back at all

And who do you think you are
Running around leaving scars
Collecting your jar of hearts
And tearing love apart
You’re gonna catch a cold
From the ice inside your soul
Don’t come back for me
Don’t come back at all

Who do you think you are
Who do you think you are
Who do you think you are

In Which Problematic Rambles On and On

Well, that's it, folks. School has officially started as of yesterday.  I was wandering around the halls of Coop B, looking for my mates, only to have the realization hit home that they were all at college.

***Important Definition***
"Mates" = close friends, those with whom you can simply exist. No pretense, no masquerade. Just existence.

Now, I know plenty of people there. I know names, I could probably list faces, but they're no one I'm terribly comfortable around. Joining a conversation is awkward: it's filled with jokes I don't get, or silence that continues until I leave. These acquaintances are quite free with their hugs and physical signs of affection, but skin deep is all they ever get. The masquerade continues. 

Yesterday, I felt the need to talk to someone, but no mates presented themselves. I can see an awful lot of people with potential to be mates, but they're still quite distant. They're barely in town, let alone the keep. Some of them even have shrugged me off. Now, don't think this I've got a "poor me" attitude.

I've come to an unfortunate conclusion. Not merely based on yesterday's disappointment, not based merely on my dislike of Coop B. Rather, this particular conclusion has been ruminating for a while.

The conclusion: I can never be as important to other people as they are to me. Maybe I'm clutching them too tightly, but mates make such a difference to me, I cannot fully explain it. I savor every moment when
I'm with them. And they've all moved on.

This conclusion is a not something I've really wanted to accept for a while. I reject your reality and substitute my own.

Except it doesn't work that way. It's painful. Not sharp, just aching. And it's made worse by seeing my close acquaintances completely oblivious. Granted, the oblivion is just another piece in my self-made cage, but the cage is harder to break than you'd think. ... Though, the fact that I'm writing this now is a sign that there are some weaknesses.

It's the oblivion that aches like a puzzle without a piece. And try though I may, nothing I can say or do will change that. Believe me, I've tried. But this isolation, this loneliness, this emptiness is not going away anytime in the forseeable future.

How can I know so much about them, but they know so little about me? I can even fake bad moods to keep them on the wrong track.

I've considered the unthinkable - telling some of these not-strangers what probably counts as my most secret secret. All for the sake of a few mates. But I know how the strangers would react: and so I'm left nursing my secret and my achy heart. I can hear you now: Oh, your poor, bleeding heart! But it's not melodrama, not this time.

So what are you going to do? Well, I go back to staring at happy people through the Plexiglass of my self-made cage, and wait for the air to run out, I guess. The glass is thinner than it used to be, but not enough. Not air, not light, not words, not love can get through.

B

Openness Review

So there you have it. 40 of my secrets are now published on the web for the world to view. If they even notice. It leads me to wonder if I shouldn't call them something other than "secret."

Anyways, we've seen that I'm pretty insecure about friends, and that I have some weird quirks and habits. Normally scheduled Music Mondays will restart next week.

Secret 40

You can usually find me in the shadow of other people's spotlights.

Secret 39

I have a very hard time trusting people.

Secret 38

I question my motives for doing things over and over again, but half the time, I end up not doing anything.

Secret 37

Sometimes I wonder if my emotions are really mine, or if they're just imitations of what other people feel.

Secret 36

I play Devil's Advocate to make you think, not to make you mad.

Secret 35

I'm not actually shy, just introverted. I'm not afraid of crowds, I just don't like them.

Secret 34

I ignore you so you won't know how much you can hurt me.

Secret 33

I'm a little concerned that I'm a codependent.

Secret 32

I wonder if there's anything remotely likable about me.

Secret 31

Sometimes I think you tolerate my presence so you can laugh at me.

Secret 30

I'm terrified of being diagnosed with a mental disease.

Vultures

A week ago, my grandfather died.  He was a classic Southern gentleman, though like us all, he had his faults.

I only met him once, but I liked him a lot; I felt a kinship with the gruff man I first saw in California.I can recognize his humor, his mannerisms, even some of his expressions in Dad and me. And now he's gone.

Grandad was an officer in the United States Armed Forces. He was involved in the NIKE missile defense systems during the Cold War - he had fantastic aim. But he ended up alienating many people during his career.

Now that he's died, people who avoided him for years have come out of the woodwork. Not out of sentimentality. Not because they liked him, or he liked them. No. Because he had stuff.

Who gets his truck? Where's the will? What about that bank account? The trailer? His guns? Whose the inheritor?

I get that they're family. I get that his daughter should be provided for. I even get that his wife is still legally married to him, and thus should benefit from his death.

But it's disgraceful, dishonorable, wrong. Bickering over the effects of a dead man the way vultures might fight over a piece of carrion is shameful, vulgar, contemptible. Like magpies jousting over a piece of dirty aluminum foil.

To see my relatives care more about the physical objects Grandad left behind rather than the man himself makes me cringe. I loved my Grandad, and to see him diminished to the value of a trailer full of stuff breaks my heart. And I hate it.

B

Secret 29

It means more than you'll ever know to be included in a group.

Secret 28

I feel stupid almost every time I talk.

Secret 27

I'm afraid my insecurities will frighten away potential friends.

(insecurity alert)

Secret 26

You don't have to call me names; I do that alright by myself.

Secret 24

Music keeps me somewhat sane.

Secret 25

I use my art to differentiate myself from others.

Secret 23

I wish people respected me.

Secret 22

I don't want to grow up because adults seem to have lost all their creativity. They've become brittle, unchangeable, not malleable, and stagnant.

Secret 21

I'm sarcastic as a defense mechanism, not because I find it funny.

Secret 20

I'm cynical because if I can believe other people aren't what they seem to be, I don't feel so bad.

Secret 19

When you tell me I'm pretty, I don't believe you.

Secret 18

I make eye-contact to see if you're lying to me.

Secret 17

I prefer misinterpreted inaction to misinterpreted action.

Secret 16

Even when I tell you a "secret", I'm not telling you everything.

Secret 15

I pretend I don't care, but I do.

Secret 14

I like listening to you.

Secret 13

I will never say something mean in earnest.

Secret 12

I don't talk to you as often as I want because I don't want to frighten you away.

Secret 11

I'm scared no one would be friends with me if I let my guard down.

Secret 10

Sometimes, the only lights at the end of the tunnel I can see are oncoming trains.

Secret 9

If someone might misinterpret my words, I won't say anything.

Secret 8

I feel caged in by others expectations of me.

Secret 7

Telling people things about me makes me feel self centered, fishing for attention, and generally being awful in conversations.

Secret 6

The other part, I don't say things I should.

Secret 5

Half the time, I say things I shouldn't.

Secret 4

When I say I'm being "entirely truthful" I'm really understating my emotions.

Secret 3

If I say something and no one listens, I'll keep talking as if I hadn't meant anyone to hear.

Secret 2

I can't fall asleep without blankets because I don't like feeling exposed.

The Openness Project

This past spring and summer, I've been doing some thinking. A dangerous past time, I know.

... Ahem. Brownie points, by the way, if you get the reference.

Anyways, I've been doing some thinking about how I interact with people, and have come to the conclusion that I'm keeping pretty much everyone outside of my nice, sterile, plexiglass enclosure. It's actually rather lonely in here. Amidst all this thought, I decided that there are a lot of things that I don't tell people, but probably should.

Thus was this next series of posts born. I will be posting 40 things I should say but don't over the next 40 days.

Just some things before I get started. Please, do not comment encouragingly on posts about personal insecurities, it's not going to help. If you're going to comment, comment about your own insecurity, or something else. And finally, I'd greatly appreciate it if you did not read too much into these posts. This means you, Qwip.

And finally, when the word "you" is used, it refers to people in general, not a particular person.

So here's the first one:

Secret 1: I'm scared people will read these posts and pay attention.

Erp

While it may appear that I have disappeared completely from off the face of this planet, let me assure you, I'm still alive.

That is all.

Candid Room

So I was tagged by Chris at My Ink Spot to take a picture of my room without cleaning it at all.


This first one is from the door of my room. You can see my iron horse by the window (Thursday gave it to me for my 15th birthday), and my small book shelf, bean bag chair, and three book baskets in the corner. My bed is that mess on the right hand side of the picture, and you can catch some new yarn I bought yesterday for Unexpected Song's gloves.

The other side of my room has my armoire and closet. On top of my armoire you'll notice a rather large collection of dolls. You can see the head of my Twinn doll peeking out behind the green bunny ears on the left. There's also a china bride doll, a Russian figure skater, Samantha from the American Girl series, a ballerina doll, and a few others. I'm not really attached to most of them, but a lot of them were gifts or were really important to me before I hit the double digits. Also, there's more random hair products lying on the floor next to my towel.

This is the other part of the other side of my room. You can see my suits and shirts in the closet, my math homework on the floor (next to the towel), and my vanity. Yes, that wood desk cluttered with hairspray, hair gel, jewelry, yarn, and books is the actual representation of my pride. Actually, no. A vanity is the official name for those desk/chest of drawers that glamorous women do their makeup at in the movies. There's a pile of sweaters on the chair that goes in front of it.

Oh, and I almost forgot. I've been hanging up my hat collection where it won't get squished and soiled. On the far right is a burgundy hat in '40s style. Then comes my brown fedora, complete with lavender sprigs. The bright pink one is my first hat. Dad gave it to me for Christmas many years ago, and it's been a joke that I'll wear it to the Kentucky Derby "when Dad takes me." The big black circle next to the Derby hat is my evil 1800s hat. It's got a big velvet band around the rim, tied in a bow on the side, and I can look really creepy in it. Missing are my Greek fisherman's hat, my purple cloche, the blue soft-brimmed hat, and the straw sun hat, and others which should not be named.

So there you have it. If you're reading this, I tag you to do the same.


B

Rhyme and Reason

This one's been fermenting in my head for quite some time now, so hopefully it's fully mature.

I'm sure you've read my musings on classical music before. If not, then here's where to find the best one.

Upon further thought, it seems to me that there are two distinct types of artists. And for lack of better descriptions, there are artists who follow Rhyme, and those who follow Reason.

A Reason artist is one who takes a concept, piece of art, or music, studies it intensively, and then tries to imitate the piece as closely as possible. They focus is on creating a perfect replica, and the problem with this is that in the course of studying the subject, the Reasoner isolates, sterilizes, and then eventually kills the life inherent in the art.

On the other side is the Rhymer. An artist who follows Rhyme looks at the subject, and tries to capture the life essence of the art. A Rhymer doesn't care so much if some of the outward appearances differ from the original, and here comes the problem with Rhyme: in the pursuit of the driving forces and emotions of a piece, they can drastically change it into something it isn't.

I think it's rather interesting. In organized music, I've discovered a majority of Reasoners, while in drama, I've seen a majority of Rhymers. Thus, the first time I tried to describe the dichotomy to a friend (Lady Specs, to be precise) I had people labeled as "musician hearts" and "actor hearts." However, I've noticed it's entirely possible for a Reasoner to be in drama and a Rhymer to be in music. My second violin teacher is definitely a Rhymer, and there are a few actors in Much Ado who appear to follow Reason.

Something needing to be made clear here is that both sides have good aspects - Reason looks to the outside, and Rhyme looks to the inside of the piece. The danger is that an artist will sway too far to one side or the other.

Oh, and also... This is only talking about true artists. There are some people in the arts who are not artists at all, but they camouflage well with extreme Reasoners.

So I'm not sure where I was going with all this. It's just been something knocking around in my head for a while.

B

There is a River

Sorry about all these lapses in posting recently. I've been in a drama production the past three weeks, and what with rehearsals combined with lots of math homework, I've been lacking the proper words to express any of my more interesting thoughts.

It's ironic - even though I'm seeing Specs, Escapist, and Calvin pretty much every weekday, I still feel really lonely, so I've been listening to this week's song a lot. It's called There Is A River by Jars of Clay. I love this song because it's a reminder that I don't have to try and do everything for myself. :P Yeah, it's gotten that bad. But anyways, it comes off of one of my favorite Jars of Clay albums - Good Monsters. You should go check it out if you're in the mood for some light Christian rock.

There is a River

There is a river that washes you clean
There is a tree that marks the places you've been
Blood that was spilled, although not your own,
For all of your tears, are the wages for things you have done

And all of those nights
Spent alone in the darkness of your mind
Give it up, Let go
These are things you were never meant to shoulder

There is a river that washes you clean
There is a tree that marks the places you've been
Blood that was spilled, although not your own
For all of those tears, love will atone

So, give up the right
To control the waves that empty out your life
Above wild skies
Are the rays that break the shadows we design

Give it up, let go
These are things you were never meant to shoulder
Give it up, let go

There is a river that washes you clean
There is a tree that marks the places you've been
Blood that was spilled, although not your own
For all of those things, love will atone

I know the world can turn in different ways
Most of the time, we're simply hanging on
And under the signs of how we all behave
We might find the place that we belong

There is a river that washes you clean
There is a tree that marks the places you've been
Blood that was spilled, although not your own
For all of these things, love will atone

For all of those nights, that you cried all alone
All of your tears, love will atone



Cheers!
B
p.s. I should have a post out tomorrow or the day after - another arts-related philosophical musing. Yay!

What is Eternal?

Let me introduce you to a completely amazing rock opera called Beethoven's Last Night, by the Trans-Siberian Orchestra. It's pretty much what it sounds like: Beethoven has finished writing his 10th Symphony, and is starting to die.

What is Eternal? by the Trans-Siberian Orchestra comes right when Beethoven is contemplating if his life's work is worth the damnation of his soul.

Ladies and Gents, I give you What is Eternal?

And here in the night
As I feel the Inferno
I stare in the dark
Thinking what is eternal

The man or the moment?
The act, or the reason?
These thoughts fill my head
As I contemplate treason.

Of dreams I have had
And dreams I have pondered
When late in the night
My mind it would wander


To things I have done
And then quickly regretted
While denying vices
My life had selected...

And I think what I've done
Or have yet to begin
And the man I've become
And the man that I've been



Now caught in a waltz
With the Eternal Dancer
I'm courted by Death
But Death isn't the answer
I say.

All I was
Meant to be
Could I
Suddenly
Just decide
Not a thought
Would survive?
Could it be
My life's worth
Ended there
With my birth?

If I could see someone
Who's been there before me
And traded his soul
For a moment of Glory

His penance or mercy
By spirits debated
While judged on a scale
That's been heavily weighted.

And what have I done?
Could there be such a sin
In this man I've become?
In this man that I've been?

Now calling to God
From this pit's very bottom
I pray He forgives
Every sin I've forgotten
This day!

And who would have thought
That my fate it would conjure
This twist in the road
On which I have wandered?


Each vision and dream now
Completely dismembered
To give one's whole life
And find nothing's
Remembered.

And what good is a life
That leaves nothing behind
Not a thought or a dream
That might echo in Time.


The years and the hours
The seconds and minutes
And everything that
My life has placed in it
Betrayed.
Betrayed.
Betrayed!

The things I have done
The places I've been
The cost of my dreams

The weight of my sins



And everything that
I've gathered in life
Could it be lost?
Could it be lost in this
Could it be lost in this
Night?


I heartily recommend the entire album. It's pure genius.

B

Grab Bag 3

Okay. Now this is, frankly, unacceptable. Apart from being down in the dumps and incredibly busy, I've got no excuse this time.

Before I write about what I actually want to write about, I'll update you a bit.

First of all, my Dad gets a new job on Monday. He had his last day on Friday, and we celebrated by having Vietnamese food at his old office. Interesting stuff, that food. I'm not sure if I like it or not, but it certainly tasted interesting.

Rehearsals for Much Ado About Nothing started last week, and the second rehearsal, I ended up walking to, for about a mile. There had been a major accident on an arterial near the rehearsal site, and traffic had been rerouted through the only street you could get to rehearsals on. It was crazy - every 15 minutes, we'd move a couple more car lengths and then sit for a while. So that was interesting.

Rehearsals have been kind of funny. Some of the cast are going to be singing madrigals throughout the play, yours truly included. So we were rehearsing these things last week.  I don't know if you know this, but I was in a choir for five years, etc. etc. etc. If you gave the madrigals we were working on to my choir, we could have sight-read them just fine. But in the first rehearsal, it took an hour and a half to put together one song. Part of the problem could be that all the other fine singers are Broadway style singers. In other words, they don't sing well with others. :D

Yeah, that's about all that's going on in Problematic's world.

B

The Mansions of the Lord

In honor of Memorial Day, here's one of my favorite hymns: The Mansions of the Lord. It was written in honor of the soldiers who died in Vietnam, but it applies to all wars. Inspired by John 14:2.

Ach, it's an incredible song. I start tearing up just listening to it. :)

The Mansions of the Lord

To fallen soldiers let us sing,
Where no rockets fly nor bullets wing,
Our broken brothers let us bring
To the Mansions of the Lord

No more weeping,
No more fight,
No friends bleeding through the night,
Just Divine embrace,
Eternal light,
In the Mansions of the Lord

Where no mothers cry
And no children weep,
We shall stand and guard
Though the angels sleep,
Oh, through the ages let us keep
The Mansions of the Lord

The choices, the choices

I've got so many different Music Monday songs I'd like to do, it took until Tuesday to decide!

Right. You're not buying that.

Ahem. Anyways. This week, I've decided to share one of my favoritest (is that a word?) pieces of classical music: Pictures at an Exhibition by Modest Mussorgsky. Isn't "Modest" an amazing first name?

He's got such a range of emotions in this piece - from quiet to show-stopping. Good stuff. Enjoy!

B

Jiggity-Jig

Aaah. It feels good to be this close to home... Even though home is still 600 miles away.

Just saying.

B

Funeral

Well, the funeral was today.

Wait a second, I'm getting ahead of myself.

Last night, there was a visitation for friends and family (and whatever morbid members of the public who read the obituary). The first hour was only for relatives and my Uncle's closest friends, and it was open casket. It was pretty disturbing to see him in the casket. The funeral home had dyed his hair red and put makeup on him to hide his dead complexion. His little girl had put Lammy, her favorite stuffed animal, in the casket with a drawing of her and her Dad. Barry didn't look anything like he used to - more like a sculpture from a second-rate wax museum than the body of my Uncle.

The funeral was today. My other uncle is in the Minnesota Police Pipe Band (yes, he plays the bagpipes. He's awesome like that) and he got the pipe band to come and play for the funeral. It was held in a scale model of the Hagia Sophia, and while the 'scale model' part sounds cheesy, it was actually quite beautiful, visually and acoustically.

My aunt Nancy asked me to read in the service, which I did - Ecclesiastes 3:1-8, the "there is a time for everything" passage.

After the service, Barry's casket was escorted out of the chapel to the pipe band, and everyone drove to his burial plot. It's beautiful, sitting in the shade of some big shade trees on a sunny hill beneath a mausoleum. Everyone else was so sad and hurting so much that I started crying, which was embarrassing because right around then, people started meeting and greeting each other. Bah. Don't get me wrong - I love my Uncle dearly, and I do miss him, but it's not very pleasant to meet some awesome cousins with tears and mucus running down your face. >:(

The cemetery staff shooed everyone away, and we drove to a loft to have lunch and talk. I was whisked into a whirlwind of meeting obscure relatives whose names I've forgotten.

Now, throughout the whole thing, I kept thinking that the funeral and the pomp going into it was far too serious for my Uncle. After all, he was the type who would try to outrace the mosquitoes on his boat rather than wait for them to fly off (true story, we did that once. He wasn't touched, but I got a couple hundred bites. Yes, I counted). No, Uncle Barry would be wanting a wake, in the true Irish style, Guinness and all. He got one, actually. After the official lunch, Aunt Nancy and her close family and Barry's friends headed off to a pub.

There are far too many songs to express how I'm feeling, so I'll leave that to tomorrow's post. So, instead, I'll go crash on the couch and watch a documentary about people dying in World War 1.


Also, I'm in no mood to talk with people, so emails, chats, anything will be deleted if they arrive tonight.
B

Stress

I've heard it said about extended family that if you don't know where you've been, you don't know where you're going. I'd prefer it be said that if you don't know where you've been, there's no way you can get away from there.

I've never really liked visiting my relatives here in Minnesota. It's unpleasant coming into the middle of a family disfunction that's been in existence for the past 50 years. There are members of my extended family that are all right by themselves, but once you get them in a group, boy, do things heat up quickly. Usually, this isn't too bad, because we come around Christmas or in the summer, and the family only gathers for a couple hours one day of the visit.

However, because this visit is occasioned by a funeral, I'll be in close contact with my relatives for this entire week. Not only that, but with Uncle Barry's death, tensions are even higher than they are usually, and a lot of family are coming in from out of town.

If I knew people out here besides my relatives, it might be better, but the fact is, these adults with all their dramas and woes are the only people I know, and they dominate life even when they're not around. When I'm in the house, they're there, and when our family is elsewhere, that's all we talk about. It's really stressful.

This is the explanation for the last quote of Dad's in my last post. The influence of my relatives is great enough that it affects my mood. I've been listening constantly to Coldplay - that's how bad it's gotten. :P

In 50% unrelated news, my Uncle's wife asked me to read a Bible passage at his funeral this Thursday. It doesn't seem like very long ago that I participated in their wedding. So, yeah, I'm in a rather dark mood right now.  The sooner I can get out of Minnesota, the better.

The only good thing I can get out of this is that because I've seen this so many times, I'll be slightly more able to avoid repeating family history in the future.

Well, I've got other business to attend to...
B

Arrived

Well, I'm in Minneapolis right now. We arrived yesterday afternoon, aroud 4:30. I got really loony the last hour of the trip - I was cycling through being Igor, Bob and Cassidy, and Yours Truly  rather quickly.

Before I go on, here are the memorable quotes from yesterday and today.

Dad: "I hate to inform you, but you married an opinion."

Dad: "Hey, Problematic - they've got a sushi place here. Too bad we just ate. It's called North Side Bait and Tackle."

Dad: "You look really emo, there, kiddo."
Me: "Yeah, I'm totally rockingt he invisible fringe."

The last exchange was actually from this morning, which I'll explain in my next post.

B

Road Trip

So, yesterday, after callbacks, my family left for Minnesota for my uncle's impending funeral. Well, early this morning, 1:54 AM Central time, Barry Hendrickson met his Maker, face to face. We all pray it was in love, not fear.

Today was particularly boring - ten hours of driving through Montana. I figured I'd entertain you with some of the memorable excerpts of the countless conversations.


Mpm: "Look at that! They're vertical rainbow clouds! Pretty! Hey, are you guys seeing that? Hmph. You have no appreciation of beauty. Look at those vertical clouds!"

Me: "This is the most exciting thing to happen to me today! We've finally reached North Dakota!"

Me: "Montana is bigger on the inside."

Me: "Wow, that looks kind of like the Grand Canyon, only with more bumps and less canyon!"

Mom: "Aww, it was prettier back there..."
Me: "You mean back at the Grand Not Canyon?"

Mom: "There's not many animals. I guess it's bring your own wildlife. Oh wait. We are the wildlife."

Mom: "My lip is spasming!"
Dad: "It's because it's North Dakota."

Me: "It's like, you cross into North Dakota, and cars appear. It's like, North Dakota magic or something. Oh wait, cars all gone now."

And my favorite...

Me: "The point is that I'm not causing nearly enough mayhem and slaughter! This is clearly a problem!"

Also along the way, Dad and I got into a nice, deep conversation as to whether love is an emotion or a commitment - and we're still at odds. The funny thing is, our arguments were the same, but they had different focuses.

Also, I got into Much Ado About Nothing. Glee!

Well, I've got to go to bed. It's late here in Bismark.

Cheers!
B

Bismark. Isn't that an incredibly depressing name?

Nerves

Alright, so tomorrow are the callbacks for Much Ado About Nothing. I'm a little nervous about it, suffice to say. I've been called back as Hero, Ursula, and a member of the Watch. Well, it should be interesting.

Currently, I'm at Unexpected Song's house blowing off a little steam and watching the Harry Potter movies. There are some really good lines that have been cracking me up.

Ron: "Ahh... Spiders... the spiders are wanting me to tapdance... I don't want to dance..."
Harry: "You tell those spiders, Ron."
Ron: "Yeah... yeah..." >falls back asleep<

Yes. It's quite relaxing. Also auditioning with me tomorrow will be Lady Specs, Calvin, and Escapist. But anyways, if y'all could keep callbacks in your prayers, I'd greatly appreciate it.

B

Call the Lie

This whole week, I've been pretty down. Those normal exchanges of "Hey, how are you? I'm fine, thanks!" have been pretty awful to carry out, because, well, I haven't been fine and there's no chance I will be fine in the near future. It led me to post something I'd never consider posting under normal circumstances in my Buzz account - "Problematic needs someone to call the lie."

That's not actually the point of this post, by the way. But I'm getting there.

See, even though I wasn't feeling very good about things, I still went on trying to pretend that I was more or less okay. I kept lying and saying I was 'okay'. Why? Because I knew no one wanted to know what was really bothering me. News about my Uncle, they could handle, but not really about me. Which works, I guess. It wasn't anything I really wanted to talk about.


Some days, I get fed up with our society. It's just so very shallow. People don't speak what they think, or when they do, it's in a way no one wants to hear. There's all sorts of polite posturing - "Why thank you, you look lovely yourself" and "No thank you, I'm dieting" fill in the place of real conversations, real discussions, real interests.

Some days, that's what's wrong with the world. We're too busy to stop, too busy to think, too busy to care. How many times have I passed a friend I know is down and walked by without calling their lie? When have I cared enough to how they are, really?  It's a troubling thought, that our society is exchanging niceties for actual connections. As long as you pay your social dues, say your please and thank yous, and don't hang out at the snack table all evening, it doesn't matter if you're lonely, if you're sad, if you're jubilant - just don't bother us about it.

We're becoming increasingly private. A central part of Western philosophy is freedom, which goes hand in hand with forming few, intimate connections. But what is happening today isn't just "being private" - it's "being quiet." We don't want to hear your problems, we don't want to know they exist. We want you to act exactly as you always do, where there is no emotional highs or lows. It all becomes balanced in the monotony of "I'm fine, and you?"

We're too busy. Other people's worries bother us, distract us, take up too much time. And that's why we need to be calling other people' lies. Lives without connections are not worth living - no one can exist by themselves. And the social desert we enforce now is doing just that - isolating us by putting up walls of courtesy to others. I can't tell you how I really am because that would take up too much of your valuable time. So we just glide past, smiling, nodding, and drowning on the inside.

It's sobering, isn't it?
B

Prayer Request 2

Well, I'm afraid I must trouble you all with another prayer request. You may remember that in the last one, Mom had flown out to Minnesota to be with her brother as he is dying of pancreatic cancer.

This morning we got the news that Uncle Barry has declined even more. My Aunt Nancy stayed up with him all night last night, but he was unable to talk in a coherent way. He was unable to swallow pills or solid food, and has been reduced to sipping at liquids and the like.

My aunts, uncles, and Grandma met with the hospice social worker at noon about what to do with Uncle Barry. After a few efforts, it was understood that he did not want to move to a hospital because he didn't want to see his house "for the last time." The Hospice care has said he might die as early as today or tomorrow, but they can't really say. They also say that Aunt Nancy needs someone to stay with her overnight every night as she attends to Barry.

I'm sure you can imagine how stressful this is for my Mom. She hasn't said this, but I think she feels a little helpless here in Washington when Barry's dying in Minnesota.

Please, pray for my uncle's redemption before he passes, and peace of mind for his relatives.

Thanks,
B

Update 13/5/2010 : My uncle has slipped into a coma

Running Up That Hill

For reasons I'll explain in my next post (which shall be up shortly after this), I didn't get a chance to post my Music Monday post. So it's a day late.

Anyways, this week, I'd like to introduce you to Running Up That Hill, as covered by Placebo. There have been (I think) 3 versions of this song, but of all of them, including the original, I prefer Placebo's. It's a very muted song - understated melody and harmonies. Whenever I hear it, it reminds me of a post-apocalyptic setting - the world burned by nuclear winter, and the singer of this song and his friend are the only ones left.  I think that's why I like it so much. It's perfect mood music.

Enjoy!

Running Up That Hill
It doesn't hurt me.
You wanna feel how it feels?
You wanna know, know that it doesn't hurt me?
You wanna hear about the deal I'm making?
You be running up that hill
You and me be running up that hill

And if I only could,
Make a deal with God,
And get him to swap our places,
Be running up that road,
Be running up that hill,
Be running up that building.
If I only could, oh...

You don't wanna hurt me,
But see how deep the bullet lies.
Unaware that I'm tearing you asunder.
There's a thunder in our hearts, baby.
So much hate for the ones we love?
Tell me, we both matter, don't we?

You, be running up that hill
You and me, be running up that hill
You and me won't be unhappy.

And if I only could,
Make a deal with God,
And get him to swap our places,
Be running up that road,
Be running up that hill,
Be running up that building,
If I only could, oh...

C'mon, baby, c'mon, c'mon, darling,
Let me steal this moment from you now.
C'mon, angel, c'mon, c'mon, darling,
Let's exchange the experience, oh...'

And if I only could,
Make a deal with God,
And get him to swap our places,
Be running up that road,
Be running up that hill,
With no problems [x2]

'If I only could, be running up that hill.' [x7]

Exterminate, Regenerate

In the same vein as last week, I present you with Exterminate, Regenerate, also by Chameleon Circuit. It's one of the few trock songs I've found that could, hypothetically, have applications outside Dr. Who. Hypothetically.

Exterminate, Regenerate

It's been such a long time since I met you back on Skaro
And I'm pretty sure that you know
That not much has changed since then
It doesn't matter how hard you try to remove me
I think you will agree
That if one of us dies, then the other will too
I am locked in war with you

Exterminate, Regenerate
I thought you always knew our fate
To just keep fighting on and on
While time keeps turning
Regenerate, Exterminate
And even though we are the same
Why don't you hop into your ship
And leave me burning

Even though, as men, we have our contrasts
We're of exactly the same class
And our constant companion is death
Look at you, fashioning people into weapons
How can you say that you're better than me?
We both carry the fire, that is set to devour life

We both carry the fire, that has the power to end life
But what I do with that flame is what separates our types
If it takes till the end of reality to beat you
Then I'll be sure to meet you, at the exit of the world

Exterminate, Regenerate
You know that it isn't too late
To end what seems impossible
And leave time turning
Regenerate, Exterminate
And even though we aren't the same
Why don't you hop into my ship
And we can settle this
And we can settle this

And we can settle this, forever
Yeah we can travel time, together
We can settle this, forever

Please don't Shoot!

Hey all!

I've been considering writing a post on my views on Creationism for a bit, but debater at heart's comment on a recent post has proved to be the catalyst for a potentially divisive post.  Comments on the below post are, as always welcome, but if you disagree with my opinions, I'd greatly appreciate it if you refrain from calling me a heretic, an atheist, a theistic evolutionist, or any other nasty name that does not represent my beliefs.  I believe in the Creation account given in the Bible, including but not limited to Genesis 1 & 2. I believe that what is said in these two chapters is what really happened.

That said, I am a Big Bang, "Middle Earth" Creationist, which I shall explain shortly.

Big Bang
A lot of times, when fellow Christians hear the phrase "Big Bang" they think of an atheistic theory that has no support in scripture. After all, the Bible never says "In the beginning, God created a particle that exploded and created the universe." I'll address that in a second, but first, let me tell you a story.

In 1927, Abbe Georges Henri Joseph Eduoard Lemaitre, a Roman Catholic priest, published an astonishing theory. Based on mathematics and observations he had made of the universe, he proposed that the Universe was constantly expanding from an original point. Einstein told him that while the theory contained good mathematics, the actual physics of the thing was rot. The theory was scorned by most prominent scientists as unscientific and necessitating a beginning of the universe, something they, as atheists, could not support. They called it the "Big Bang" theory in derision, as if the universe had suddenly exploded one day.

However, a few years after the original publication, Edwin Hubble (for whom the Hubble Telescope is named) observed a red-shift in galaxies far away from Earth.

As an explanation, red-shift and the corresponding blue-shift are two parts of a concept known as the Doppler effect.  The Doppler effect is a product of moving objects that interact with any type of electromagnetic or sound waves - light, energy, sound, etc. As an object moves closer to a fixed observation point, the electromagnetic waves it produces appear to build up on each other, resulting in an apparently higher frequency to the observer. For instance, if you and I are standing on a train platform, the sound the train's whistle makes as it approaches us will go up in pitch because of the Doppler effect; the air is being compressed. As the object, or train, moves away, its waves lengthen and drop in frequency - the pitch of the train's whistle goes down. Red-shift and blue-shift are the terms for the same phenomenon in light. An approaching train would produce a small, but detectable blue glow, while a receding train produces a red one.

But anyways, Hubble observed red-shift from distant galaxies, and blue-shift from closer ones, indicating that the galaxies were, in fact, moving away from a fixed point in space.  There's more evidence and scientific explanation on the net, but it's pretty advanced stuff, and my point here is only that the evidence pointed, and still does, toward a universe that originally started at one fixed point.

When this new evidence came out, other scientists had some serious back-pedaling to do. The previously held theory of a steady-state universe (that the Universe has existed in the same state it is in now for eternity) was gradually dropped; it didn't fit the mounting evidence of a distinct beginning in time and space for the universe we see.  The scientists were left with the reality that the theory they had mocked as a Big Bang was the most viable option left. So after a few changes to make it acceptable to their worldviews, they started propagating the theory. Their addition to the Big Bang theory is that a tiny particle containing everything in the universe floated around for a while and then decided to start expanding one day.  While they can tell us, based on observation and physics, that the universe had a distinct beginning, they can't tell us what happened before or why.


This is where us contrary Christians come in. There is a preference of rejecting out of hand anything that our ideological opponents claim, because these opponents are the ones supporting it, sometimes without examining what they say. For instance, scientists today claim to support the "true" theory of the Big Bang, and we've tended to accept that at face value, and oppose the Big Bang theory. However, what the scientists support is not the real Big Bang theory. They've taken a scientific theory, and modified it to suit their worldview better. While the worldview is justly opposed, the unmodified theory of the Big Bang does not contradict the Bible's account of Creation. I'd go as far as to say that the Big Bang theory is the only scientific theory that correlates with Genesis 1 and 2.  Why?

Here's what the unmodified Big Bang theory and its associated theories say:

- Einstein's General Theory of Relativity states that space and time are intrinsically linked. You can't have one without the other
- According the to Big Bang theory, space had a beginning, and therefore, time had a beginning
- In other words, the universe is not infinitely old.
- We can trace the expansion of the universe back to an infinitesimally small point
- Such a small point in space, containing the entirety of the universe is incredibly unstable
- Said point would begin to expand as soon as it came into existence
- As in, it couldn't exist for a few millenia and spontaneously expand.

What the Bible says:

- "In the beginning, God created the heavens, and the earth. The earth was without form and void, and darkness was over the face of the deep. And the Spirit of God was hovering over the face of the waters." (Genesis 1:1)
- The universe was created by God
- As Paul says, the universe we observe was created from what we cannot see (Col.1.16-17) and is held together by the power or strength of God's word (Heb. 1.3)
- The universe is finite; God is not
- God created the universe first and then created the earth and all that is on it
- God exists outside of space and time

While these two lists of what happened seem unrelated at first glance, they line up with each other very accurately.

Have you ever dipped your finger into a still birdbath or pond? The ripples spread out from the place your finger first touched. I think that the ripples we see in the universe, the expansion of galaxies starting from a central place, are the ripples of Creation when God first created space and time. God creates heavens and the earth, and that Creation spreads out from what He first spoke it into existence and continues to sustain by His speech.

Perhaps that a bit too poetical for your tastes, so think about it this way. When God created the heavens and the earth in verse 1, He's making the universe.

At this point, I need to say something pretty important. Science is humanity's attempt to describe reality. If the science does not directly contradict what the Bible says about reality, then there is no reason to deny it, or call it un-biblical.

Now, you might be saying that the Bible doesn't say that God created a particle that exploded into the universe. While, I agree, that is true, the Bible doesn't say that, I would also argue that the Bible does not say that God created any eukaryotic skin cells in human beings. This is an instance where science does not contradict what the Bible says. In fact, the theory of the Big Bang lines up so closely with the account of Creation, that first there was nothing, and then there was everything, that in 1951 the Catholic Church declared it to not contradict the Bible. I'm not a Catholic, and you may not be, but I would agree with their statement on this matter.

I'm going to leave my discussion of "Middle Earth" creationism for another time, since this is already one long post.

Cheers,
B

An Awful Lot of Running

You might not know this, but I'm a Doctor Who fan. It's the sort of television show that one wishes were actually real. That tempts me to say something derogatory about Twilight, but I'll refrain. But anyways, as a fan of the Doctor's, I find the genre of Time-Lord Rock (trock) to be quite entertaining. As with most fan-made art, trock's quality can be very varied in quality, but I've found a song called An Awful Lot of Running by Chameleon Circuit that I particularly enjoy.

It's initial chord progression mimics the Doctor Who theme, and the theme pops up in many areas of the song. As a side note, this song will make no sense unless you check out the Doctor Who page on wikipedia, available through the finely crafted link above.


An Awful Lot of Running

He is like fire, burning through time
As old as forever, but fast in his prime
I saw his blue spaceship materialise
He stepped out and said to me, "run for your life!"

I don't know why I never thought to ask him for his name
But I really don't think he'd have told me the truth anyway
But you know, that's ok

It's completely terrifying but it's so so exciting
He said I was brilliant and I could change the world
So many places I've been and there's so much more to see
We've got galaxies and planets and moons
And an awful lot of running to do

As a full-time companion he gave me a key
And a phone with a signal in every galaxy
As we fell through the vortex I felt so free
Please don't let this danger just be another dream

Because my life before you was unreasonably mundane
I've never been happier although we face death every day
I wouldn't have it any other way

It's completely terrifying but it's so so exciting
He said I was brilliant and I could change the world
So many places I've been and there's so much more to see
We've got galaxies and planets and moons
And an awful lot of running to do

You know you can fix that chameleon circuit if you just try hotwiring the fragment links and superseding the binary binary binary binary binary binary binary binary binary binary binary *gasp*

It's completely terrifying but it's so so exciting
He said I was brilliant and I could change the world
So many places I've been and there's so much more to see
We've got galaxies and planets and moons
And an awful lot of running ... to do

Oh, my blog!

Tay, from Fearless, awarded me the Oh, my blog! award. Don't ask me what that means, precisely.  Thanks, Tay!

1. Get really excited that you got the coolest award EVER.

2. Choose ONE of the following options of accepting the OMB award:
a. Get really caffeinated and blog for 15 minutes straight, or for as long as you can focus.
b. Write about your most embarrassing moment.
c. Write a "soundtrack of your childhood" post.
d. Make your next blog a vlog (video blog). Basically, you're talking to the camera about whatever.
e. Take a picture of yourself first thing in the morning, before you do anything else (hair, shower, etc.) and post it.

~~~~~~~~~~~/\~~~~~~~~~~~~

I choose c. However, because my childhood is far too short, I shall expand from the confirmed past to my hopeful future.

- Opening Credits: Don't Bring Me Down by the Coats

- Birth Through 3 years, or To Be a Shroom: The Gummybear Song

- 4 years, or Off With Her Hair! - The Hamster Dance

- 5 and 6 years, or She of Boundless Energy: Crazy Loop, by Crazy Loop

- 7 through 10, or Growing Pains: Pavane for a Dead Princess, Guns 'n Roses by Paradise Lunch

- 10 through 12, or the Hunting of the Snark : According to You, by Orianthi, The Logical Song by Supertramp, Stand My Ground by Within Temptation

-12, or Decisions Made: What is Eternal, by the Trans-Siberian Orchestra, Rusty Cage by Johnny Cash, Still Alive by Jonathan Coulton

- 13 and 14, or The Fact is, That is Not a Head on Her Shoulders: Daddy DJ, by Daddy DJ

- 15, or A Turning Point: 100 Years, by Five For Fighting, Older by They Might Be Giants

-16, or Dancing in the Rain: Shadows in the Rain, by Sting, Praise Adonai by Paul Baloche, Dragostea Din Tei by O-Zone,

-Waking Up: Lux Aeterna, by Clint Mansel, So She Dances by Josh Groban

-Falling In Love: Holding Out For A Hero by Bonnie Tyler, Jennifer Saunders

-Epic Fight Scene: Woman of God by Larry Norman

-Secret Love: Dark Waltz by Hayley Westenra

-Life's OK: Viva La Vida by Coldplay

-Mental Breakdown: Under the Radar, by Abney Park

-Driving Scene: Step Up to the Microphone by Newsboys, The Wanderer by Johnny Cash

-Flashback: Running Up That Hill by Placebo

-Happy Dance: Yakety Sax, 99 Luftballoons by Nena

-Regretting: The Hazards of Love 4 by the Decemberists

-Long Night Alone: Hurt by Johnny Cash

-Final Battle: All Systems Go by Krypteria

-Death Scene:If I Ever Leave This World Alive by Flogging Molly

-Final Ending: Now We Are Free by Howard Shore

-End Credits: Orinoco Flow by Enya, Tell Me Ma by Gaelic Storm



3. Pass the award on to at least  three, but preferably more, awesome bloggers as yourself. Don't forget to tell them.
Grey (The Locket)
Qwip (If By Happy You Mean Deranged)
Chris (My Ink Spot)
Bridget (Gonna Take A Ride Over The Moon)

Cheers,
B

Short Grab Bag

Alrighty. In my haste to get my thoughts about Regionals up and running, I forgot to bring you other important news.

So, starting at the very beginning. The Monday after Regionals, I had an audition for a summer production of Much Ado About Nothing. I think it went rather well - I used a piece from Moliere's Two Precious Maidens Ridiculed. It's all about this hopelessly romantic teenage girl lecturing her father about how a suitor is supposed to behave around his beloved.  The callbacks were posted the next day, and I've been called back for Hero, Ursula, and a member of the city Watch. I'm quite excited, really. Hero was the role I'd been hoping to be called back as, but if I get any of those roles, I'll be most pleased.

On Tuesday evening, my mom got back from Minnesota. She spent three weeks back there with my uncle, during the course of which she got a sinus infection. Thank you all for keeping her in your prayers.

Today is quite busy. About a month ago, Lady Specs emailed me about the Christian Heritage Conference. Turns out, someone had volunteered me to help with the Speech and Debate presentation that Lady Specs was organizing. I've spent this last week stressing about what I would say. I finally finished the script today. So at noon, I'll be heading over to the conference, and after that, well, well, well... It's also Lady Spec's 18th birthday today, so she's having a dance in honor of it. Which should prove interesting.

Well, that's all for now, folks!

B

Music Wednesday

My apologies on the lateness of this post. This weekend has been crazy, and I only just got around to it.

Let me introduce you to The Voice, by Celtic Women. Normally, I really dislike this group, because it's so commercial, and certainly isn't true Celtic music. Yes, I prefer real bagpipes to some caterwauling by a girl group with a fiddle. But I love the lyrics to this song, so I overlook the band who sang it.

The Voice

I hear your voice on the wind
And I hear you call out my name

"Listen, my child," you say to me
"I am the voice of your history
Be not afraid, come follow me
Answer my call, and I'll set you free"

I am the voice in the wind and the pouring rain
I am the voice of your hunger and pain
I am the voice that always is calling you
I am the voice, I will remain

I am the voice in the fields when the summer's gone
The dance of the leaves when the autumn winds blow
Ne'er do I sleep thoughout all the cold winter long
I am the force that in springtime will grow

I am the voice of the past that will always be
Filled with my sorrow and blood in my fields
I am the voice of the future, bring me your peace
Bring me your peace, and my wounds, they will heal

I am the voice in the wind and the pouring rain
I am the voice of your hunger and pain
I am the voice that always is calling you
I am the voice

I am the voice of the past that will always be
I am the voice of your hunger and pain
I am the voice of the future
I am the voice, I am the voice
I am the voice, I am the voice





B

Regionals

This weekend was the Region 3 Invitational National Qualifying Tournament. It was pretty fun,actually. I guess I'll give you a rough day-by-day high and low-lights list.

The tournament started on Wednesday, so bright and early at 5:30, I stumbled out of bed, bleary-eyed and no tail in sight. I needed to get down to Renton by 9:00 because extemp rounds started at 9:30, and we had articles to file. When I got down to the church, I discovered, along with KK, that Calvin had printed out an entire stack of papers that needed to be filed before the round. Can you say 'panic'? Extemp would have gone rather well had it not been for the fact that Mr. Shane Baumgardner, one of the extemp powerhouses of my region, had been in my room all three times. I kind of psyched myself out. This excuse is not saying that I would have done better if Mr. Baumgardner had not been in my room: It was an extreme miracle that I qualified to Regionals in the first place. I then had a debate round, which was interesting and not entirely pleasant. After coming out from about four hours worth of analysis and argumentation, I was greeted by an onslaught of inquisitive friends. Questions flew over my head like flies over a particularly ripe cheese. Keep in mind that I was operating off of very little sleep, and you'll understand that moving from a nice, quiet debate round to a noisy circle full of friends did very little for my sanity and comprehension. It was completely overwhelming. And naturally, Grey and Ophelia were at the very heart of the culprits, and I mean that in the best possible way. I skipped the social event at the Space Needle because I needed sleep, and getting up at 4:30 the next day was not conducive to sleep.

Thursday was chaos. Rounds started at 7:30, after announcements at 7:00. There were four debate rounds plus three speech rounds, and by the end of the day, I was pretty well exhausted. On the plus, I ran into quite a few old new friends from last time around.  All Thursday, I was pretty bummed that Mrs. Hudson hadn't done her speech about hats. Oh, also, I had a judge who refused to make eye contact with me in my OO. It was a little jolting, because no matter what I would do, this parent WOULD NOT look at me. She was even staring at the other judges, but I was apparently too horrific to look at.

On Friday, I got in a huge discussion with some other debaters about the Big Bang theory, Old Earth and New Earth Creationism, and Biblical interpretation. It was CJ and I against the world. Well, not quite as melodramatic, but still, it was a good argument. It's probably cemented my status as a resident freethinker even more firmly, but I happen to believe that "any society that looses its troublemakers goes downhill," so I'm comparatively alright with that.

On Saturday, I woke up with my eye swollen shut, so I got to wear an eye patch! Also, on Saturday, I had a dandelion fight with a TP debater I had just started talking to that day. We figured out that if you walk upwind of your target and shake the seed head of a dandelion, your target gets a face-full. This started an all out war, which was absolutely amazing, except that Mr. Owl got a video of it.  We found a Rubik's cube, and I solved one side almost completely, but I got stuck with the last square. Mr. Owl got the last square in place, and then claimed to have solved the entire thing. It was a lolwut moment, if I ever saw one. :D Calvin was awkward with CS as usual, but it was still kind of entertaining hanging out with them. I will never view Coca-Cola in the same way again, nor Axe, for that matter. See, the original Calvin, whom I shall refer to as StickMan for the rest of this blog, brought a can of Axe deodorant spray with him, and on Saturday, proceeded to stagnate the air for a twenty-foot radius around him. Bell was sleeping a couple feet away, and StickMan got the idea to spray Bell with the Axe. He creeps over to the sleeping debater, and thoroughly marinates him with the stuff, and Bell didn't even wake up. It was hilarious, amazing, etc.


And throughout the tournament, I had a very fun time imitating Theresa Hudson's accent, who was running Regionals. I hope she didn't over hear me, though. ;P

B

Run

Let me introduce you to a favorite of mine: Run, by Snow Patrol. I acquired it this summer when I was expanding my music library. It, too, came up on Pandora. I'm not quite sure why I like it, so just go and listen to it for yourself.


Run by Snow Patrol.

I'll sing it one last time for you
Then we really have to go
You've been the only thing that's right
In all I've done

And I can barely look at you
But every single time I do
I know we'll make it anywhere
Away from here

Light up, light up
As if you have a choice
Even if you cannot hear my voice
I'll be right beside you dear

Louder louder
And we'll run for our lives
I can hardly speak I understand
Why you can't raise your voice to say

To think I might not see those eyes
Makes it so hard not to cry
And as we say our long goodbye
I nearly do

Light up, light up
As if you have a choice
Even if you cannot hear my voice
I'll be right beside you dear

Louder louder
And we'll run for our lives
I can hardly speak I understand
Why you can't raise your voice to say

Slower slower
We don't have time for that
All I want is to find an easier way
To get out of our little heads

Have heart my dear
We're bound to be afraid
Even if it's just for a few days
Making up for all this mess

Light up, light up
As if you have a choice
Even if you cannot hear my voice
I'll be right beside you dear

Wish List

Every Tuesday, I walk to the library. There, I spend an hour or so browsing through periodicals, books, encyclopaedias, and other resources in preparation for extemporaneous club and debate. This usually brings me into contact with the other patrons of the library. A couple times now, I've had to explain "why I'm not in school."  It doesn't bother me too much, but the various comments I have to bite back when questioned do. So this post is going to be great! It'll only be the punch lines, not the buildup. Ready? Here we go.

1. No, I do not know your cousin's daughter who homeschools in Virginia.

2. No, I don't want to communicate with your cousin's daughter in Virgina.

3. Just because there's a 'home' in homeschool doesn't mean I spend my time there.

4. Just because there's a 'school' in homeschool doesn't mean I need 10 hours a day to get my learning done.

5. No, I don't own a copy of the Constitution.

6. No, I don't have the Declaration of Independence memorized.

7. Keeping a bunch of teenagers racing with hormones in close contact with each other five days of the week doesn't count as socialization.

8. Why, yes! I have lots of friends. You just can't see them.


9. No, I don't like, eat, like, icecream? for like, you know, breakfast?


10. Don't look so surprised. It's not like every homeschool family is large.


11. Not all homeschoolers school the way your cousin's daughter in New York does.


12. Have you ever heard of autodidactic tendencies? No? Go look it up and then ask me that again.


13. Prom? You mean, there's socializing? I'm sorry, as a backward, fundamentalist homeschooler, I don't think it's alright for guys and girls to be in the same room as each other, let alone talking to one another!


14. You've completely convinced me. I now firmly believe that after living a long, full, life, doing a job that I love, pursuing knowledge, after finding adventures everywhere, after marrying the man of my dreams; I believe that I'll look back on my life and say that the one thing I regret is not having had a boyfriend throughout high school because it really would have made my life complete.


15. I agree, I don't sound like other kids my age. Do you have a problem with that?


16. No, no. No offense taken. My fundamentalist, wack-job friends from the vast right-wing conspiracy will never know.


17. Now that you're done, can I quiz your kid about everything they've learned at school?


18. Yes, these are, in fact, pants. You're not hallucinating.

19. Oi! Don't disrespect the van!

20. This conversation was scintillating, I'm sure, but much like a chanson de geste, it has waxed loquacious and time itself is fleeting.



Thanks! You have no idea how good it felt to just release some of the pent-up sarcasm. I can now go back and continue my polite, non-committal conversations.
You know, it's getting so bad I'm considering just calling myself "library schooled" and leaving it at that.

B

Airship Pirates

You may remember I talked about Abney Park a few Music Mondays ago. This song of theirs is a bit different than I Am Stretched On Your Grave. See, this one is a little more ... robust. It's about a group of pirates who sail the skies in their airship. It's called, surprisingly enough, Airship Pirates. I think my two favorite parts of the song is the helicopter propellers introducing the song, and the violin's scrawls throughout. It's good if you're trying to distract your mind from, say, the 100 sit-ups you're attempting to do. But it's also good in its own right, so I'll leave you to enjoy.

Airship Pirates by Abney Park

Our fires high and the airbags tight
Food's low but the skies are bright
Props spinning all through the night
We're low on cash but seen another target

Goggles down and the cannons up
My blood starts pumping as I drain my cup
I give the wheel a spin and I turn this girl around
We're way above ground but we're closed in on our target

Flying Jib is filled with air
East India ships filled with despair
We even up, her broadsides bare
Our cannons flair but it’s just a show of muscle

Steady on, she doesn’t need to burn
She tries to flee and she tries to turn
Grappling fire, we latch her hull
She’s starting to roll, but we’ve got her on a leash

With a crew of drunken pilots
We’re the only airship pirates
We’re full of hot air and we’re starting to rise
We’re the terror of the skies, but a danger to ourselves now

Expendable crew starts to reel her in
Our swords are sharpened and we're ready to sin
I’m three miles up, we're about to swing aboard
My tether's made of leather so I’m not about to fall here

A swish of air and my boots hit deck
No cash, no fuel, no not a speck
Our grape shots made this bird a wreck
And a glance below deck shows a crew of nuns and orphans

With a crew of drunken pilots
We’re the only airship pirates
We’re full of hot air and we’re starting to rise
We’re the terror of the skies, but a danger to ourselves

Tag!

Qwip tagged me with this one, which he wrote himself.

1. How many toes do you have?

14. In base 6, that is.

2. How many bones have you broken?


One. It was when someone mistook my foot for the soccer ball in a game and tried to loft it.


3. Name an epic thing that you have done.


I was carrying one of those food trays you get from the cafeteria to a friend with a plate of food and  a glass of water on it. I tripped over the invisible object that follows me a around, and the plate of food and glass jumped off the tray. Keep in mind this was a few feet from my friend's table. She turned around just in time to see me catch the food and water glass on the tray just before planting my face in the cement. Nothing spilled.

4. If you had a pet lemming, what would you name him?

Road Kill

5. What color are the clothes you're wearing right now?

Cream and brown, unless you're also counting the drawing on my arm, in which case: Cream and Brown and purply black.

6. How awesome are orca whales on a scale of one to ten?

Uhhhh.... Five? I've never really thought about it before.

8. How old do you want to be when you die?

Before fifty. Unlike the creator of this tag, I want to be doing something interesting when I go.

9. Name a pet peeve and an addiction.

Pet Peeve: People apologizing for things that don't need apologies ("I'm sorry, I have to get my bag. I'm sorry, did I open my sandwich without asking if you've had lunch. I'm sorry, I opened the door a little slowly. I'm sorry, I just expressed an opinion you disagree with ..." )


Addiction:  I'm addicted to well-written movie soundtracks.

10. Write a paragraph detailing your life. 100 word minimum.


My earliest memory is standing at the top of a very large hill looking down on my brother on the playground at the foot of the hill. I was public schooled from Kindergarten through Fifth Grade, a time period I prefer to forget. Public school is one of the reasons that I can't stand kids. I took up the violin in second grade. I was also in a ballet company basically from kindergarten 'till sixth grade. I was training to be a professional. It was in ballet that I discovered precisely everything that was wrong with my feet. I went en pointe and my firey, scary Russian teacher sent me to a foot doctor to see what the trouble was. Turns out, I had plantar faschitis, achilles tendonities, calcaneal apophicitis, epiphicitis, and sesmoiditis. In other words, my feet were screwy. In addition, x-rays discovered that I have extra bones in my heels and bone growths that severally limit my range of motion. The doctor put me in cast boots for two months and I had to drop out of dance, because while surgery could have fixed these problems, it was terribly expensive.  After fifth grade, I asked my parents to home school me, and they were kind enough to agree. I joined a choir, and a few years later, the NCFCA. And that pretty much brings me up to date - nothing much has happened during my years homeschooling.  Hah, 200-something words.

11. Name one thing that isn't really a secret, but that you haven't really gotten around to telling anyone.

I really like my privacy, so it bugs me when people ask too much about me.

12. Name another pet peeve.

The slurping and munching sounds people make when they eat noisily drive me nuts.
 
13. Sprechen Sie deutsch?

Ich spreche nur sehr wenig Deutsch


14. Tell a joke.

Zakos Mahatma Gandhi, as you know, walked barefoot most of the time, which produced an impressive set of calluses on his feet. He also ate very little, which made him rather frail and, with his odd diet, he suffered from bad breath. This made him a super calloused fragile mystic hexed by halitosis

15. How many of the questions have you answered in a witty manner so far?

4, ish.

16. Compose a haiku.

 The cute crocodile
Opens his mouth for fishies
Grinning, licks his lips.

17. Have you ever noticed how sour candies taste even more sour if you rub them on the side of your tongue?

Yeah.


18. What book(s) are you reading at the moment?

The Phoenix Guard by Someone - it's a parody, of sorts, of Dumas' the Three Musketeers
Wild Swans: Three Daughters of China by Jung Chang - It's part history, part biography, part memoir.
and a collection of Moliere's one act plays

19. How many doors are there in your house?

13.

20. How would you solve a problem like Maria?

Solitary confinement's worked before.

21. Think of something about yourself. Anything. Go on, think of it.

Now think of something more interesting. Write it down here.

Something more interesting: I got certified in Leave No Trace when I was nine, and then proceeded to bully older Boy Scouts getting their certification because I volunteered as an instructor about how to act around pack animals for several years after that. I think I enjoyed it a little too much.

22. What's wrong with your legs?

I'm the lady from the test.

24. What's your favorite show tune?


That's a hard one. Camelot's my favorite musical, and it's got so many good ones. The Simple Joys of Maidenhood, Camelot, The Jousts, the Seven Deadly Virtues, and Guenevere rank up there, though.

25. Okay, you can tell us what that first thing you thought of for number 21 was. We all want to know, even if it isn't interesting.

I missed my best friend's birthday party five years in a row.

I tag Jare and Lib.


B

Biology

I love science! I love learning about why the universe works the way it works. There is something perfect, pleasing, and beautiful about learning how God created everything. That said, I hate biology. Why? Because rather than dealing with the 'why' of creation, it deals with the 'what'.  What the names of bones are; what the respiratory system is; what photosynthesis does... All sorts of specific which, quite frankly, bore me stiff. I'd much rather study the science of dropping things (ie, physics) or the science of exploding things (ie, chemistry) rather than the science of living things...

Fortunately, for the most part, my biology class is tolerable. A sarcastic teacher who also prefers physics and chemistry helps. But because she's bored with the subject, she messes with the students, and yesterday was undoubtedly the worst science class I've ever had.

We started on animals yesterday. Previously, we'd covered botany, an interesting, enlightening, and thoroughly engrossing topic. Please tell me you get my sarcasm. The logical starting point is looking at invertebrates.

Because she had planned a dissection, the teacher only had a short lecture - fifteen minutes. She focused on stuff that interested her. So for the first five minutes, she gave an in-depth introduction to tape worms, complete with pictures, graphs, and all the biological impacts it has on the host. After that section, I was feeling kind of queasy, and desperately wishing that my grade didn't depend on my attendance of the class.

The teacher then announced that she'd spend the remnant of the lecture on spiders. In case you didn't know, I've got a case of arachnophobia.  For the next ten minutes, I looked anywhere but the slideshow, and by the end of the slide show, not only was I ready to lose my breakfast, but feeling thousands of crawling legs moving up my spine. It didn't help that the teacher was gesturing and pointing out things on the slides with the can of 14-inch-long worms that were about to be dissected. Basically, by the end of the lecture, I wanted to run screaming from the room.

Then the fun began. She called us to pick out our worm, and gave us dissecting kits. The worm on the tray in front of me looked like a scale model of the tape worms she had just told us about. My stomach gave a warning jump. However, since I was being graded, I picked up the scalpel and got to work. The only way I got through the intervening hour was by singing "The Gambler"'s chorus to myself.

See, I have a problem. When I read a book about someone experiencing pain, I start hurting too. That's one of the reasons I have problems with meat: I see the veins and I start hurting all over. And when I was cutting through the skin of the worm and pinning it back, it felt like I was peeling back the skin on my hand without anaesthetics and pinning it to the cardboard. And when it didn't feel like I was vivisecting myself, I felt sick because the worm was disgusting.

I felt sick for the entire day, and I am desperately praying that the next dissection falls on the week Regionals will be held. Because I don't know if I can even do it again.

Sickly yours,
B

Archery

Last night, my Venture crew got together with another crew and went to an archery range. It was, surprisingly, fun!

Before yesterday,  I'd never used a ranged weapon/toy/whatever you want to call it before. You could tell, too. My target hitting and self-injuring skills seemed to be directly proportionate - I didn't do the former a lot, but the latter more than made up for it. Because the arm-guard thingy didn't fit, it slid down my arm to where it wasn't useful, and I'd hit my arm with the string.


But despite the bruises forming on my upper left forearm, I had fun. So yeah, that's my report for the evening.

B