I knew that you meant to care.
That the words that so easily
ripped holes in the fabric of my psyche
That something so callous
could come from one who loved me
enough to say that,
to ground me,
rebuff my declaration of love
and then use it against me.
To mention me in a large wooden box
and deny that you cared
to prove that you did.
You, the physical embodiment
of all that I ever wanted
becoming everything I feared in love.
AND IT'S VERY VERY VERY INDIMIDATING!!!!
Believe me, I'm excited. The fact that I'm reading at the Sunken Garden Poetry Festival tomorrow night means that I'm one of the top young poets in the nation. Six poets at most are granted this honor every year, and I'm taken aback to know that I'm one of them. It doesn't seem to be true, you know? I'm absolutely honored and I feel almost as if it was luck that got me this far. Now onto the intimidating part...
There's going to be over one-thousand people there. Sometimes they get closer to two-and-a-half thousand people at this event. Not only that, but NPR has been known to come to this event, as well as the TV channel PBS. So me, little me, could be broadcast across the nation. God, freaking AGENTS come to this festival, looking for new talent. This scares the crap out of me. What if I mess up? What if I don't look right? What if I don't dress right? What if the new poems I'm reading suck? What if, what if, what if. These thoughts are driving me insane. I doubt I'm going to get much sleep tonight.
I've been practicing reading the poems, I have them all memorized, I'm going to have them in clear, plastic dividers in a three-ring binder. Everything should go according to plan. But I'm still pee-my-pants nervous. (sigh
I guess all I can do is hope for the best and prepare for the worst. Too combat boots don't match my dress. Wish me luck!
- Current Mood: anxious
- Current Music:Two Ballads for Violin and Piano: II. Moderato, by Aaron Copland
Nobody seems to know exactly who The Hummer is. The church has a high-ceiling, which results in an echo-y sound, which means that The Hummer could be ANYWHERE. So when the humming starts, my family, as well as a few other people in the congregation, start looking around, trying to pinpoint who is singing along. So far, we've narrowed it down to someone who is an old lady. Unfortunately, that eliminates only about a quarter of the congregation. This is the mystery of The Hummer.
Today was a particularly interesting day, since we have found out that her favorite hymn is "How Great Thou Art." During the first strain of the chorus, a few very high notes need to be hit. As soon as we got to that point, we thought that maybe the generator in the basement was starting to explode, or at least spontaneously combust. From all corners of the church there was this resonating, ridiculously high "HHUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUMMMMMMMMMMMM-M
I felt really bad, because it's such a touching hymn and really quite sad, since it's been sung at every funeral I've been to...but I couldn't stop laughing because The Hummer had struck again. I discussed this with my mom after the service. It's the first time that nobody in my family has cried while singing the hymn. We were too busy laughing. I think one of the deacons at the church saw and glared at us a little. Wouldn't be the first time that's happened. We're a close family, and sometimes we get a little silly in church and can't help but laugh at something. We all feel terrible, 'cause church is supposed to be a sacred place, isn't it? I think God understands, though. If he didn't have a sense of humor, he wouldn't have made the platypus.
I'll keep writing about how close we are to finding who the ever-elusive Hummer is, whether or not they strike again during church. For the moment, all six of us at my house are exceedingly confused.
To be honest, I almost don't want to find out who it is, because a, I would never look at them the same way again, and b, it's kind of fun to have this mystery. It's like "Where's Waldo" meets the Tootsie Roll Pop commercial...you can't find them, and the world may never know.
So until next Sunday, I'll have to keep guessing.
So yeah, he’s sixteen. I’m eighteen. He’s so mature. I think our ages should be reversed sometimes. He’s rational, considerate, kind, handsome, strong…everything I’ve ever wanted in anybody. Sure, he’s not one to open up. I don’t expect him to do that all the time, that’s not healthy. But when he does…it’s completely touching.
Like when I thought that I had fallen out of love when we hit the five-month mark. A mutual friend trying to break us up “for our own good.” (She thinks he hasn’t fallen hard yet, that if there’s a clean break we can both start fresh when I leave for college.) How when I said that my day was tough, without even knowing the reason why, he called me. And as soon as I heard his voice, full of concern, I couldn’t do it, because when I tried to picture myself without him, I didn’t like what I saw. He got to the bottom of what was going through my mind, and we talked. We talked about the future, where we were headed as a couple. Me going into the Air National Guard. When he hit that note, he started to cry.
“If something happened to you…anything happened to you…I don’t know what I’d do. You said you’d keep a picture of me on you, and it kills me to know that I can’t really be there. And I swear to God, if that picture comes back bloody and torn, if you come back bloody and torn, if you don’t come back at all—“
And from there, he couldn’t continue. I didn’t know what to do, me holding the phone like an idiot while he sobbed. Our roles were reversed, at least that night.
He’s afraid for my mind, mostly. He’s got this crazy notion that I’m going to go off and come back insane, or that I’ll change so much that I won’t love him. And as I’m writing this, mostly to myself, I’m uncovering the depth of my own love. I’ve told him I love him. And those words seem shallow and hollow, because they can’t seem to really convey what I really mean.
That I’d be willing to die for him.
That I’d sit by a hospital bed and wait for him.
That I’d hold his hand and cry for him.
That when he’s wrong I’d still stand up for him.
That when I say “romance” I think of him.
That I can’t comprehend how five months and eight days led to this so quickly.
That he’s been gone for a week, and it’s been the slowest week ever.
That I’m willing to sound crazy and desperate on LiveJournal because it’d be really sad if all this ever amounted to was a lonely Microsoft Word document.
That I can’t think of a proper way to tell him I love him, because I don’t want to sound desperate. Or creepy.
So I guess I’ll just need to sit on the hammock and reflect, like I always do. Sit, reflect, and thank GOD that he doesn’t have a LiveJournal.
Well, for starters, I'm with this absolutely amazing guy who I'll code-name Adam. He's brilliant. He's the salutatorian of his class, a wonderful musician, an Eagle Scout, a black belt, and he's been dating me for a little over five months. We're going to go long-distance while I'm away at college, and he's worried that some random guy is going to catch my eye up at the University of Vermont.
Since we've been together, it's felt like there's no one else for me. The L-word has been mentioned several times by both of us, so we're both in deep. Not outrageously deep. Well, I'm in outrageously deep, but I can't speak for him. All I know is that despite a mutual friend (codename Grace) trying to break us up, everything is wonderful. And the whole thing with Grace is that she dated long-distance and it didn't work out. She doesn't want him to break my heart, or me to break his heart. She's convinced that things aren't going to work out. But why end a good thing? If it ends, it ends, and I'll deal with that when it happens.
You can probably also guess that I've graduated since the last post. I'm happy to say that I've graduated with honors, and I'm well on my way to pursuing a degree in Elementary Education and becoming a teacher. I go off to college on August twenty-sixth, and I can't wait. It's such an exciting change, definitely an adventure, and I'm up for a change in pace. I've known everyone here since kindergarten. Time to go somewhere new, where it doesn't matter who-did-what in the fifth grade, what she wore to the prom, or that he dated his best friend's little sister. I've finished taking the online course on alcohol education, I've signed for a few student loans, I'm sending in the scholarship money I've got, and everything is wonderful.
Speaking of paying for college...some other big news from me.
I'm joining the military. Something I said that I was never going to do, that I tried running away from. Ultimately, though, I do want to enlist. I believe that everyone should serve their country in one way or another, whether it be through community service, or a job that gives back. I've chosen to become a teacher, and to fight in the Connecticut (or Vermont, whichever one ends up working with college,) Air National Guard. If you want to use abbreviations, it's the CTARNG or the VTARNG respectively. I'm not joining right away...going in as a freshman in college would be a little bit much. So come next summer, I'm headed off to San Antonio, Texas for eight-and-a-half weeks for basic training at the Lackland Air Force Base. I'll have plenty of time to get in shape between now and then, because to put it simply, basic training is a bitch. I'm not quite ready physically, so I'll be working on that.
This upcoming Wednesday is another big event. I've won a really prestigious poetry contest, and on August fourth I'll be reading my poetry with the five other contest winners in front of an audience of over one thousand. YIKES. It's scary and exciting, and I can't wait! I'll be a published poet! Reading at one of the most coveted poetry festivals this side of the United States! AAAAAAAAAH! :-D I've prepared a few new poems to read in addition to the five that won the contest. There are several poems I've written since winning the contest, but I only feel comfortable with debuting two of them. I've been told that the festival is going to be on NPR, (National Public Radio,) so it'll be heard from coast-to-coast. Needless to say, I'm pretty damn nervous.
Well, that's it from me for tonight. It's pretty late, and I should be sleeping. Mom wants me to finish clearing the back area of the yard, and while it looks like it isn't much, it's a TON of work. Which brings to mind another experience that I'll post here later...maybe tomorrow.
- Current Location:United States, Connecticut, Vernon
- Current Mood: loved
- Current Music:Alive With the Glory of Love, by Say Anything
This title was meant to sound like a radio-show...I'm not Gollum, with two different sides to me. :-)
My last band competition is coming up. And the USSBA (United States *Unknown meaning of the other S* Band Association) is screwing everyone over. There's supposed to be torrential downpours all throughout the day on Saturday, the New England Marching Band Finals. So what do they do? Decide to move it to TUESDAY if it rains. Tuesday. The band would get home at around midnight, and we all have school the next day. Aaaaaaaaaaaaarrrrrrrgggghhhh! I need to wake up at 5:15 in the morning, and I'd fall asleep at around one or two if this was to happen. I'm not a happy camper, especially since this is my senior year and I have a quiz in Stats the Wednesday after. Not to mention that this whole Tuesday business would cause me to miss rehearsal for the play.
Oh, I didn't blog about that!!!
I got the lead! I got the lead! I'm playing Veta Simmons, a bitchy, thirty year-old sister who wants to put her brother in a sanitarium. I have to totally act over the top and I LOVE IT. I have sooo many lines. I've started doing my memorization stuff now because the show is on December fourth and fifth, and the lines are pretty tricky. There's all this nineteen-fifties jargon that I can't quite wrap my brain around. In any case, I'm super-excited and will keep updating regarding different things during the play.
Rehearsals are so funny...everyone pretty much goofs off backstage when they're not on. This is a bad thing, but it yields some absolutely hilarious stuff. For example, my friend Nate has a line that says "...hangs around in bars." My friend Dominic and I heard him say this and immediately sang pieces of the lumberjack song.
"He puts on women's clothing, and hangs around in bars!"
To which I replied again
"He wished he was a girlie, just like his dear mama!"
Well, Nate is certainly not a lumberjack, but he's okay anyways. And if he wishes he was a girl, then that's his business :-D
Speaking of girls and moms, I am jealous of my mother right now. She's in Verona on a buisness trip for the American School for the Deaf.
You read correctly. It's that Verona. Fair Verona, where we lay our scene. She's staying right across from the Castle Veccio, which is where Romeo is supposed to have lived. Her hotel is five stars, and she gets to pay a ridiculously cheap price for a top-rate room because the woman she's traveling with had around ten-thousand travel points saved up. I think she said that she was paying about two-hundred for an eight-hundred to one-thousand dollar room. She's so lucky. And if that wasn't enough, she'll be staying in Venice too, right on the Grand Canal and next to Saint Mark's Square. Ai yi yi! Estoy muy enviosa ahora. Pero, estoy feliz para ella.
I love speaking in Spanish.
Well, I'm headed off to bed. I shouldn't be writing this now anyways...school night...heh.
We marched at Putnam this weekend and the rehearsal before was really tough. I think, and most of my fellow bandgeeks agree with me, that they pushed us too hard before we marched. No one had much energy once it came down to the actual show.
We got yelled at. I was kind of upset. I look up to the band director so much, he's my hero, and he's very honest with us. We got a relatively angry speech from him about break-downs in fundamentals for both the music and the drill. (I felt that I did well on a personal level. I'll have to watch the video to see how we did as an ensemble, and how I actually did compared to how I thought.) He said that he was really disappointed, and we'll all probably hear another speech in class Monday about how he felt we did before and after we watch the video and review some of the judges' tapes. Yikes.
After the competition was really fun though. It's usually like that. We finish marching, and then the rest of the evening is spent hanging out with friends and cheering for the other bands competing after us. I was with my little sister and my two best friends, as well as with my still-single crush. We shared some absolutely amazing french fries and just chatted underneath the stars. I know that sounds completely corny and over-used, but it's what happened. I was very happy.
When it came time for scoring our hopes weren't all to high because of the lecture I mentioned before. We came in second place out of second, which wasn't a surprise. We have a lot of cleaning up to do. However, our score was only .6 points lower than it was last week at our homeshow. (We got a 69.5 this week.) We caught up to our friendly rivals this year, NFA, (Norwich Free Acadamy,) who came in first in our class (Class III Open) with a 70.7 and awards for best visual, I think. However, we did do something well yesterday night. The Rockville High School Marching Ram Band (full title, wow...we're RHSMB for short) won an award for "Best Spirit."
I really think it was a mistake. We didn't show much spirit in my opinion. I think NFA cheered louder for each band. Some of my band-mates would argue with me though. I dunno. I thought we could've been more...you know...spirited.
The bus ride home was absolutely WONDERFUL. As you can probably guess, sleeping on the bus isn't all that comfortable. Especially since the buses we ride are school buses. My guy, (okay, I'm guessing he doesn't have a livejournal, so I'll just use his regular name.) Andrew, sat with me on the way home. We shared music, and then agreed that we were both outrageously tired. Long story short, he let me sleep on his shoulder the entire hour-and-a-half ride home. I was out like a light, and very, very happy. <3 If the trip back next week is anything like yesterday, I would be overjoyed. We're at Rocky Hill that Saturday night, which is forty minutes away from Rockville. Not as long as the trip to Putnam, but if I can get away with sleeping on his shoulder again, I'm good.
Yes. I understand that that title up there *points up* is a terrible cliche, but that's how this week has been. Especially yesterday. Yesterday was terrible.
It was all during band, kind of like every other entry that I've posted. My section has been picking on me somewhat. There's tons of stress going around and coming around. The low brass seems to be falling apart. You could say that, right now, we're a very dysfunctional family. During practice yesterday we had to stay in the band room for the first half of class and it was pretty cramped in there. I asked the baritone player next to me if she had enough space, and she said yes.
She didn't make the best judgement on that one, because as soon as I brought my tuba down, it collided with the bell of her instrument.
I apologized and asked her if she was alright. I felt really bad about it, and it was an accident. The bell was slightly dented, and she was okay. But in the middle of my apology the girl next to her, (no names will be mentioned,) yelled "You hit her, Lizzie. Shut up! She doesn't want to talk to you."
Pardon me for trying to make up for the accident. Girl X wasn't even involved in the problem, she just butted herself in. Girl X also blames me whenever a form is off, even when it's not my fault. It's really really frustrating.
That night at band, all us bandos were discussing which bus to go on. I was already upset from the incident earlier that day, and was trying to take my mind off of it by focusing on the great times I would have with my friends on Bus 2. My best friend ever, Mikaela, asks my other friend (I'll leave his name out too) why he isn't going on Bus 2. I'm interested, so I turn around, just in time to see him say "this person right here," all while pointing at my name. Mikaela yells "What's wrong with her?" His response? "She just pisses me off."
Not too bad if you take it at face value. But keep in mind I thought he was one of my closer friends, and this would mean that he was only being friendly with me to get ahead. (He wanted to be Assistant Director of the GGP, our drama club, but I was offered the position. Seeing how upset he was about it, I gave him the option to co-direct with me.) I felt totally betrayed and cried for most of band that night, then cried for a long time before I was able to fall asleep that night. I finally got to sleep with some select songs by The Cranberries drifting into my ear.
I felt like all my friends were slowly dropping me left and right. I used to be friends with Girl X as well...now she hates me, for some reason. Boy X was turning on me too? It's really a bewildering feeling. I felt so hollow, really empty and got these weird hot/cold feelings like I sometimes feel when I'm about to get into really big trouble.
He tried to explain it away soon after it happened, but I had seen and heard enough and I stormed off to sectionals while unsuccessfully trying to stave off crying.
I wasn't looking forward to today at all. He usually hangs out in the same places as I do, since both of us are in band and drama. We both hang out in our favorite teacher's room, (Mrs. Matty for short...she's the director of the GGP and we both adore her,) before the bell rings to signal the passing time to the first class. Once he entered the room that I was in, I made an excuse to go to my first block class and left. Matty told me this later, but as soon as I was out of earshot he said:
"I think she really hates me."
I did at that point in time. He usually comes back to the same room during block two, when we both have a free block. Today was no different, so when he walked through the door, I completely ignored him. He tried to make conversation with Matyseck, but she was busy and there was nothing but a few minutes of the heaviest awkward silence I've ever felt.
HIM: So...Lizzie...um, I guess I should explain about last night.
ME: Yeah. Feel free. Please do.
HIM: It was an honest mistake. I have really bad eye-sight, and I meant to point to (different girl's) name, but it turned out to be yours instead.
ME: Really now. Looked pretty deliberate to me.
ME: I've heard you bad-mouth people as soon as they've walked out of the room.
HIM: This is different.
ME: I'm not buying it. You made it perfectly clear that you hated me last night. You couldn't even say it to my face. You completely took advantage of me being nice to get what you wanted! You've done it before.**
HIM: No, it's not like that! I count you as one of my friends, I really do.
ME: You mean that?
HIM: Does it look like I'm lying?
HIM: I'm not. And I'm really sorry.
ME: .......I forgive you.
In summary, we're friends again. There is way too much drama in high school. I'll type up more later, Dad needs his laptop and I've got to edit some of my original work. I'll post it soon!
Except for AP Lit and ECE Spanish.
Ugh. I'm excited about AP Lit. We're reading Frankenstein and The Stranger, both books that I've always wanted to read, but have never gotten around to. And in class tomorrow, I get to read my favorite poem, (Birches, by Robert Frost,) as well as a brief analysis. It was a fairly easy poem to analyze. My other favorite poem is As the Cat by William Carlos Williams, but that one has relatively little to explain, and it's my number two, so everything worked out.
My last marching band home show, (also the first competition of the season,) was Saturday. It was a great night, and I was really pleased with how we did. I'll have to post more later on, because it's dinner time and I really shouldn't be updating on a school night. *sheepish grin*
So now I'm finally back at home after a wonderful weekend at Mima's. I'll get back to all that stuff I was talking about before.
So, yes. Pawana and I made chocolate truffles, with some help from my cousin Cassandra. She's only eleven, but she has a knack for baking as well as creating a gigantic mess. We cleaned up everything though, and the truffles came out absolutely amazing, apart from some mishaps whilst trying to temper chocolate. Anyone want an easy truffle recipe? Look no further. The three of us halved the recipe, but it came out just as tasty. This one down here is the full recipe...unhalved, unchanged!
Chocolate Truffles <3
1 pound of your favorite chocolate (this is usually equivalent to 4 chocolate bars)
1 cup of heavy cream
Finely chopped almonds
Tempered chocolate (I'd google how to do it if I were you, what I usually do didn't seem to work this time. Chocolate chips are easier to temper.)
Useful equipment to have:
A mellon baller (use a spoon if not available)
A medium sized bowl
A big knife!
1) Chop 1 pound of chocolate into pieces no bigger than 5mm across. I do it on a cutting board in a pan so that it contains the mess. When the chopping is through, put the pieces into a medium sized bowl.
2) Scald the heavy cream. Pour it over the chocolate pieces. Stir until completely smooth
3) Cover the top of the bowl with the chocolate and cream mixture (called a ganache) and leave in the fridge for at least one hour, or until solid.
4) Using the melon baller or spoon, scoop small balls of ganache out of the bowl. If they're not as circular as you want them to be, roll them in your hands. But be warned...you will get very very messy. (Or maybe that's just me, haha.)
5) Roll the ganache ball in the coating of your choice. If you've tempered chocolate, you can roll it in the tempered chocolate first and then in the coating, but when I tried this it got chocolate everywhere. (Again...this could just be messy Lizzie syndrome.) If you do choose to roll them in the tempered chocolate, let them set for 15 minutes at room temperature and then put them in the fridge.
6) Once you've made all the truffles you can, package them and/or eat them! They'll keep for a month if you refrigerate, but I can almost guarantee that they'll be gone before the month is up. Mine always are ;-)
So there's my recipe of the day. Maybe I'll post my coffecake recipe up here sometime...I'm famous for it at school and among my family!
Speaking of school...it started two days ago. I'm really looking forward to my senior year. It's going to be great, especially since I got to choose all but one of my classes. You're required to take an English course all four years of high school. I'd take English even if it was an elective. My English course is AP Literature and Composition, and I think it's going to be much easier than AP Language and Composition was. All my summer reading and essays are done. Well, I'd hope that I'd be responsible to finish the summer reading before school starts. But the essays...yeah...about those essays...
Oh, don't worry, I completed them, but there was an error in the assignment I received. The paper I got told me I had to have three essays done. I was handed the wrong paper. We only had to do TWO! I'm exempt from an essay during the first quarter this year, so it makes up for it, but still...all that work...hours of summer that I'll never get back.
No point in being bitter about it now though. I get out of an essay during my already hectic life during the school year. That totally rocks in my book.
I'm taking Creative Writing as a course this year too. I'm VERY shy about writing LotR fan fics outside of family and the lotrff community, so a lot of my peers have no idea that I write. All they know is that I won an essay contest for Seventeen Magazine, and if they haven't read my story on lotrfanfiction.com, then they've never read my writing. I don't dare talk about Walking the Line or MEFA. Maybe I'll come out of the proverbial closet later this year. I'll try to post my original stuff that I work on in Creative Writing on here as well as lotrfanfiction.com's sister site, fanfic.thingsmadeofawesome.com.
Some other classes I'm taking are Early College Experience Spanish, (which earns me 6 credits from the University of Connecticut! How awesome is that?) Statistics, (icky, yucky, terrible-yet-easy math that I didn't want to take, but looks good on a resume,) Sociology, Marching Band/Symphonic Band, and Psychology. I'm really looking forward to taking all of this.
On top of it all, I'm the assistant director for the RHS Drama Club this year. (We call ourselves The Golden Goose Players, or GGP.) The play that we're doing this year is Harvey, written by Mary Chase. You might not be familiar with the stage version, but there's a film version with Jimmy Stuart in it that was pretty big. I'm excited. The best thing is, even though I'm assistant director, I'm still allowed to audition! Glee!
In news of romance...
My guy has broken up amiably with his girlfriend. It was a mutual break-up, and apparently he's been asking around for me lately. He asked me to accompany him to the attendance office in the morning tomorrow, so maybe something's stirring. Oh...I don't want to get my hopes up and have them come crashing down like they did they that last time, but my heart starts going just a liiiitle bit faster when I think of him and I walking together...alone...without our nosy friends... <3
Wish me luck!