It's Crunch Time...

I had the crazy busiest week ever. So far, just this week, I have:
- preformed in a band concert
- seen Art in a pirate hat
- met an independent publisher poet
- worked at least 16 hours at Marist Poll
- solidified a perspective student's decision to go to Marist
- did two class presentations
- wrote 16 pages for papers for different classes
- watched a stupid Spike Lee movie
- got accepted to the Honors Conference
- had to tell the nicest teacher ever I was bailing on his Hawaii trip
- saw a Holocaust survivor speak
- talked to someone I hadn't talked to in a long time
- had crazy dreams
- played tennis
- watched Crash
- made lots of lists
- gotten the finished Mosaic back

And I have yet to:
- watch my housemates win MAACs for water polo
- go to Mark Twain's house
- watch the One Act Play Festival
- attend two BBQs
- work some more
- write some more papers

Oh college. I bet I'm going to look back on this post when I have grown up, and just go to work and come home every day, and wish I were doing all of these crazy things.
Only two more years of this kind of life... and then... who knows.

This sounds awful, but I think walk-a-thons are kind of stupid

It's true. I do. I understand the idea behind it, to raise awareness... but I think more awareness could be raised if, instead of walking around a track for 12 hours, which is what the Relay for Life, the American Cancer Society's, event consisted of, people walked door-to-door for 12 hours, collecting money from each house, and handing out a pamphlet with information about whichever disease they were trying to raise awareness about.
I'll admit that Relay was really nice, I had a lot of fun, and it made me reflect a little and realize how good my life is. When I saw the the bags, lit by candles, (called luminarias) all labeled with people's names who had or have cancer, on the border of the walkway, it really made me realize how lucky I am.
And when I heard that my friends had raised $100, $200, even $300, I wished that I had put more effort into raising money. But I have to believe, if I understood the idea of Relay more, I might have put more effort in.
I'm not really sure where I'm going with this post, but I just kind of wanted to get the idea out there that we think that walk-a-tons are a great way to raise money, but there may be other ways out there to raise even more money, and help to fight the awful monster we call cancer.

Memories and Senses

It's amazing to me how songs can evoke such emotion. Today, I was in the gym for open house (crazy that mine was exactly two years ago now) to play for band, and the Kenny Loggins CD was playing (Rainbow Connection, House at Pooh Corner) and I immediately was brought back to the times when my sister and I would sing those songs. I still have all of the lyrics memorized and still remember how I felt when we would sing them. I can still hear our voices singing them, a little off key, but it never mattered.
There are so many songs like this... "I Love Rock and Roll" and "You Shook Me All Night Long" bring me right back to high school dances.


If I hear any John Denver song, I'm immediately transported back to Sunday afternoons, with my dad playing guitar on the couch... he never really got all the words right, but to him, the words didn't matter all that much, it was the feeling he got from playing the songs of his hero.
Different songs bring me back to different seasons and times in my life. "Summer Girls", "Allstar", "Soak up the Sun" "SOS", and "Unwritten," have the ability to make me feel like the sun's beating down on my shoulders no matter when I hear them.


Backstreet Boys and N*Sync songs remind me of the good old days, when Sarah Todd and I thought it'd be a good idea to do one of their songs for the Talent Show... luckily someone discouraged us.
"Merry Christmas, Happy Holidays" brings me back to two memories now; the first: rocking out to it in the car before the Christmas dance when we all (except me) wore matching outfits; the second: this past Christmas, blasting it in the kitchen as my house mates and I made cookies for our A4 Holiday Party.


Any of the pep bands songs make me feel like I'm sitting on the bleachers, cheering on my favorites.



The same thing is also true with smells. For some reason, my Herbal Essences shampoo makes me think of Peru every time I use it, and I can't figure out why.


The smell of brownies makes me think of my mom, the smell of "just-showered-clean" makes me think of the mornings Steven would come over before school. If I get a certain whiff of something, I'm immediately brought back to Lindsay's house, Grandma Veet's house, the middle school cafeteria.

I wish my job could be something to do with memories... I'm a big fan of them... I just have to remember that if I'm too caught up in the past, I won't be making any memories in the present to reflect upon in the future...

Oof...

Steven was driving with his sister on the way to school the other morning. When he came up over a hill, he saw someone stopped at a stop sign, and then saw that person pull out, cutting him off. He braked, and everything would have been fine, but then the man stopped. In the middle of the road. Steven swerved to miss him and hit this tree. Hard.

He and his sister got out of the car, and Steven was complaining his back hurt. The man said he would go for help, and Steven told him it was okay, that he had his cell phone. But the man repeated himself, and left. And never came back.
A 60-year-old man left two teenagers on the side of the road, at 7:30 am, with their car in a tree.
What an upstanding citizen.
I don't understand how someone could do that. I would never be able to sleep at night knowing that I caused an accident and then didn't own up to it. I hate that there are people in the world that would do this. No, it's not murder, but it still really stinks.
On a more positive note, this video made me smile and tear up a little today.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_4DTme1SZ10
It's nice to be reminded that there are good people in the world.

I'm Stuck

No time for a long post, but I came to the realization today that I'm stuck in 2006. Whenever someone says, "Oh that movie is from 2000," I think it was 5 or 6 years ago. It's over 8 years now... 8 years since Y2K, 7 years since 9/11 and Jocelynn's accident, 6 years since freshman year of high school and "To Kill a Mockingbird" with Mrs. O, 5 years since I started dating Nick and had Mr. Kirvin for Social Studies, 4 years since we met Mr. Fredericksen and squeaked through AP History, 3 years since NHS Lounge lunches, 2 years since I started dating Steven (4/29 will be our anniversary), and a year since I went to San Francisco for Spring Break to visit Julia.
Time is flying... and I'm stuck in 2006.

Independence

Well, it turned out not to be strep... which means it must be a "viral thing," or so they tell me... so I just took antibiotics that made me feel sicker since Thursday for nothing... gotta love Marist College Health Services...
Anyway, I was thinking today, that if nothing else, college as taught me how to be more independent. In high school, we couldn't go to the bathroom without bringing at least one of our friends along with us. But here, I'm perfectly comfortable going to things by myself. Usually, for me, it's random sporting events that no one wants to go to with me. For instance, the water polo game today.

That's Sam, one of my house mates. It was so much fun, and I realized at the end, that it hadn't even fazed me to go by myself. Two years ago, I probably wouldn't have gone, and if I had, I would have been self-conscious the whole time, worried that people were looking at me, thinking I didn't have any friends.
So I guess, along with the independence, came confidence. Something I thought I had a lot of, but turns out, I think I was only confident in my little Galway bubble. Outside of it, I kind of lost the ego, and along with it, the self-confidence. Which isn't always a bad thing, but I'm kind of glad I'm getting it back.

Strep

Nothing like bringing in the nice, warm spring weather with a case of strep throat... gotta love it... I wish I felt like writing, but I really don't...
Until I feel better,
Sickie

Last curtain call...

I miss being in plays more than anything. I miss it so much, I even miss the things I didn't like about plays-- the endless rehearsals where nothing seemed to get done, the frantic directors after dress rehearsal flopped, the nightmares the night before the first performance. I miss it all.
When I look back on the plays, I think they were the best part of my experience growing up. From "Oliver" in 2nd grade (with a solo in "Food, Glorious Food"), to "Fiddler on the Roof" (my first Galway Players experience), to "Bye, Bye Birdie" (my grand finale), I enjoyed every second of it. Okay... well that's a lie. There were definitely times I sat at Galway Players alone on a Sunday afternoon, wishing I were anywhere else but there in the auditorium, listening to Tilda clonk away on the keyboard (haha... clonk is a real word- no little red line under it) and having to dance with Indian men who didn't know their left from right, but for the most part, they were a blast.
I met so many people through the plays (the Cerny boys, Nick Schrader and Steven (my two favorite lighting boys), Matt Weaver, etc.) and got a lot closer to people during the plays (Kait, Tonya, Ashley, Lindsay, Dan R., Nate, Jayce, Ryan, Nicky V., Rike, Bradley Rooke, Charlie, Dan Clemens, Kara, Will S., etc.). Plays are just such a great opportunity for bonding because of the hundreds of hours of hard work you put into the show.

I still get a little teary-eyed when I go back to see a show, and realize I don't get to be backstage, having the last minute, "I definitely have to pee right now," feeling, or have the anxiety and then overwhelming relief of pulling it off when the curtain closes after curtain call and a cheer erupts from the cast backstage. I don't get to be up there, waiting behind the curtain, trying to sneak a peek at the crowd to see how full the auditorium is, to see if I can find my family. Ash and I don't get to be kick-ass chorus girls, saving a few numbers a show.


I'm not the one running backstage after curtain call to grab the flowers for the directors, the one rushing to the chorus room for a quick costume change, the one painting the backdrop, making the program, selling the tickets. I miss being backstage for the shakedown and helping the boys with their makeup. I don't get to know the inside jokes, or know when the mistakes that the audience never knows about happen (okay... so maybe I still know that...). I don't get to panic when someone is missing their cue, or messing up their lines, or not showing up on stage. I don't get to learn dances from Lisa, get fitted for a costume by Beth.

I don't get to have my hair done, pose for any pictures, get any flowers when it's over. I don't get to wait anxiously for the DVD to come back with the bloopers and laugh at the funny things we all did.
All I get to do is relive the memories of the best times of my life, and wish I could do it all over again.

Spring has... meandered in foggily?

Sprung would NOT be the word to describe how spring came in today. I'm going to use meandering... It was foggy and 66 degrees today, complete with a rainbow (which Maria and Michelle thought we were "April-Fooling" them about). It's 7:00 pm, and the sun is just setting. Nothing could make me happier than it staying light late. I can't wait for the days of laying in our backyard, sunbathing, listening to music and casually studying for finals (I'll miss Kelly trying to squeeze into my tube tops though...).
Spring is my favorite time here. This year, it's going to include going to the gym to go swimming, and lounging by the river often. I'm perfectly happy putting up with a few rainy days with that awful fishy smell, in hopes of them fading away soon to beautiful, sunny, 70 degree weather, and the smell of sunscreen and people cooking on their barbecues.

His curly locks are gone...

Before:

After:

I can't believe he really did it! But he did... his signature curly, crazy hair that I learned to love is gone... Even he can't get used to it, saying he when he catches his own reflection, he doesn't recognize it as himself! Craziness...
Nice shot from the weekend... I love home in small doses...