blue dude

Live From CSB!

So here I am in the ocmputer lab at CSB, at the STEP program. I'm using Jaws, and, as usual, I suck at it. But thus far I don't know if there's wireless Internet in the dorms, or rather the apartments--must ask Jerry about that--and so yeah. Um, I wrote some stuff in Spain. And I may write while I'm here, though I doubt it. So...hang tight. Or something.
blue dude

(no subject)

Tuesday, April 3, 2007

It's Sad That A Survey Drives Me To Write ...

Time: 8:32 PM

Current Mood: Nothing Really

Current Music: Ahe Lau Makani, by Stephen Hatfield (I'm a Choir nerd, shut up)

In My Room

Hey, gang!

Yes, I'm still alive! Still negligent, I know. It's not that I don't think of you all. It's not that I don't write, because I do. Almost every day. I swear. It's just not things you'd want to read. It's not even things I want to read, haha.

Anyway, hi! How are you? I'm pretty good. Rolling along. Chamber Singer tryouts are this week. I am very scared and nervous.

I just went to Junior Prom. If you want pictures, you can ask and I might send them. Or if you're lucky enough to be my FaceBook friend, you can just log on and see it.

I'm still working on my novel, although I'm kind of blocked right now. I'm working on it.

I don't really know what else to say. Gosh, I've gotten so woefully bad at LJ. It bugs me! But seriously, there is nothing to say. My life is sort of monotonous right now, I suppose.

Uh ...

I went to Long Beach with Concert Choir. That was possibly one of the best weekends I've had in a long, long time. It owned.

Oh, right. Apffil fifth, this Thursday, is my seventeenth birthday. I seriously almost forgot to mention that. So, think of me getting old.

I miss you guys.

I'm weird, I know.

Okay. Survey time, because I'm already out of material.

First thing's first:

Wanna get interviewed?

1. Leave me a comment saying, "Interview me."

2. I respond by asking you a couple personal questions so I can get to know you better. If I already know you well, expect the questions may be a little more intimate!

3. You will update your LJ with the answers to the questions.

4. You will include this explanation and an offer to interview someone else in the post.

5. When others comment asking to be interviewed, you will ask them five questions

Questions courtesy of




1. What is it that draws you to choir?

I love singing with a bunch of young voices; I love how I can connect to the music. The harmony and the unity just amazes me daily. Choir also helps me feel better when I'm sad, and it lets me channel my happiness in a way few things can.

2. If you could be any fictional character for a day, who would you choose to be?

Hmmm, I've got to say Lyra from His Dark Materials by Philip Pullman, because she's brave and selfless and affectionate, and she goes on some really awesome adventures, and she's like the best example of young adult romance ever, to go along with that. I don't know if you've read these; if you haven't, you should: The Golden Compass, The Subtle Knife and The Amber Spyglass, it's a trilogy!

3. You could own one instrument that you wanted, regardless of the cost or whether or not you can play it. What would it be? (Be specific!)

A grand piano, because they sound beautiful and I would love to be able to accompany myself and actually bring the lyrics and notes I have in my head to life.

4. You have to eat at one restaurant only for an entire month. Which would it be?

Mexican food. Definitely. Yay Mexican food!

5. What is the most extreme thing you would do to win a million dollars?

Ooh, tough one. Um ... I don't know. Ooh, maybe go out in public naked. I'd do that. I have no shame.

And no, this does not make me promiscuous. And no, I really wouldn't do this. Unless I was somewhere where I would never see anyone present ever, ever again.

Okay, so ... uh ... just forget about that and let me interview.

This entry totally sucks and I know it. No one even bother denying it.

To restore your faith in me ... here's a poem I wrote. It's very cynical; don't read too deeply into it.


The Globe

Spin the globe.

Give a push

And it tells you all you want to know.

It tells you just where you are

And how you got there.

It tells you where everyone else resides

In relation to you.

It shows you how to get to others.

It shows you how to get away from others

And find a peaceful sanctuary.

It proves that no expanse is too large to cross.

Even when you thought there was no path

The globe proves you wrong;

It enlightens you, and indicates a new way

Another means of getting where you want to go.

The globe shows you where you have been

And where you wish to be;

The globe never lies

Because it cannot.

The globe knows your intentions because you turn it in order to find them.

The globe can read your mind because you let it;

When you take it for a spin,

The globe can see inside.

The globe shows peace,

And it shows that people can come together,

Holding hands and forming connections around it.

The globe tries to bring people together

And bring joy, friends and unity.

People hold the globe in their hands,

And they say that it means The World,

But does it?

It's just a pretty picture

Mounted on a movable sphere.

It is just an object.

That is all.

Spin the globe.

But for itself, the globe can only spin,

Around and around and around,

Pivoting in its orbit,

The way it did from the beginning of its life to the end.

But yet, there is no beginning,

And there is no end,

Only the repetitive swing,

Spin, spin, spin,

Circles of life that never end or change.

The outside of the globe is intricate and beautiful,

With rivers and mountains dotting the surface,

But inside, all that exists is emptiness.

An empty black void.

Beautiful outside, hollow inside.

And all the while, the globe spins

Alone on its axis,

Scarcely making a sound,

While it shows the world how to be

And never takes time to be for itself

Whatever a globe might want to be

No one will ever know.

I write weird poems.

The end.

blue dude

(no subject)

Monday, January 15, 2007

Time: 12:01 PM

Current Mood: Finals Are Taking Over My Life?

Current Music: Me Typing

In My Room


So after getting e-mails, phone calls, IM-S, and, most recently, quite a profane little FaceBook wall post from Miss Tiffany, who went and got a new LJ name that I don't remember at the moment and so cannot tag, I decided I'd better update this thing before you all shoot me. I must say, I didn't know people actually liked reading this thing. I mean, people were always making fun of me for writing so much in it so often, and then I stop, and everyone's deleting me from their friends pages and throwing these conniption fits. It's rather satisfying to know that I've gotten so many of your lives scrambled without my updates to let you know that, indeed, the world is still turning. Okay, I'm just being silly now.

So, uh, I kind of don't even know what to say. The world is still turning. I'm still here. I had a good Christmas and New Year, in which I went to Disneyland, got a chair with a back massager, and baby-sat for two adorable little boys with

Melanie C.


I'm writing a new novel that's very psychotic, and, as usual, I have it all outlined but will probably never finish it. I'm even ambitious enough to hope that I can turn it into a musical someday, but I know that will never, ever, EVER happen. I just like to do these creative things to keep my spirits up, you know?

What else? All my friends are doing well. It's almost



birthday, and also






Oh, and also,



figured out my upside-down Braille code thing from a million years ago, which is really quite a feat. So congrats, you Canadian genius.

Uh. Hmm. Lannie's doing fine. He loved Disneyland, he hasn't thrown up again, and he is basically perfect. As I tell everyone, "anything that goes wrong when I'm working with Lannie is probably my fault."

I'm trying to trade my evil PacMate for a BrailleNote mPower, because this BrailleNote, which I've had since age eleven and have pounded on every day is slowly dying. I shorted out the keyboard and got it replaced about a month ago, heh. Well, after writing LJ's and novels and poems and essays and notes and tests and lists and lame songs and everything else on it for six or so years, I don't see how it lasted this long. But anyway. Keep your fingers crossed for me. I wrote a persuasive letter and begged Pulsedata to save me before my BrailleNote dies and kills me along with it. Ish.

Derek and Eric are going to All State (a really awesome choir thingy), which is quite hot. I want to go next year, but I'm really not too bummed that I'm not going. I mean, it'd be fun, but good things come to those who wait. I'll have to work on my tonal memory more if I want to get in. (Being good at perfect pitch does not equate being good at tonal memory. In my case, I think it hinders it. But let's not go there, because thinking about my ineptitude is depressing.)

Hmmm. What else? Oh! I know! The Dessert Shows are coming up. Like last year, when I sang Hear My Song and Only Hope? That was the Treble show. Now I get to be in the Treble show and the Concert Choir show. So I'm pretty darn psyched! Concert auditions are first; I'm thinking of doing something with Derek C, a solo act, and Eric and I have already been planning to sing "As Long As You're Mine" from Wicked forever. Last night, we practiced it, and we got this really quite nifty karaoke track of it. And we made up this choreography that is probably quite ridiculous, but we had a great time, as always.

I went to the San Francisco Symphony this past Wednesday, which was lots of fun, and a new experience. Even though I fell asleep for part of it. Well, it was early. And orchestra music is very soothing. But the second half was very intense, and I stayed awake and entertained myself by trying to figure out what instruments were playing which notes, and stupid nerdy things like that. And after that we (that is to say, my Mom, Lannie and I) went to Max's Opera Café, and then to the Light House for the Blind (squee) where I got a bunch of new blindie gear, including some really stellar playing cards that are made of flexible plastic. I was pretty pumped. Heh.

Um. I dunno what else to say, other than that I love my friends. Because they are always there for me. That means more to me than I could ever express. And yes, that definitely includes all you stalkers who are chasing me and screaming for updates. (smirk)

So I really gotta go study for finals, and finish my homework. But I wanted to update because Tif's wall post sounded rather threatening. Haha. And it inspired me. Don't freak out if I don't update for awhile. I'm a busy child. And I always, always e-mail. So hit me up:

Okay? Peace out.
blue dude

(no subject)

Monday, December 4, 2006

Time: 6:20 AM

Current Mood: Sad

Current Music: Me Typing


I figure it's about time I do an update, but it actually is going to be a rather sad one. I mean, I have some good stuff to tell you, but it just seems rather trivial at the moment.

It seems like all these people I know are dying. One was older, but two are young, very close to my age. The oldest, of course, is Floyd, the photographer from my Choir outside of school. I'll talk about him a little first.

Floyd, obviously, came to most Chorus events to take pictures, which I, also obviously, never really knew much about. But Floyd was about so much more than pictures. He played Bingo with us at Chorus Camp almost every day at Break. I remember when I was a new camper, and wanted to play Bingo, but only one other person was playing. It was a really little kid (I was at Level 3 Camp), and they needed help as much as I did (me not being able to read the Bingo cards). So Floyd took it upon himself to not only spin the Bingo wheel thing and call out the numbers, but to check both of our cards and help us move the little windows. How many people do you know who would do that? Most people I know would have said, "Wait until more people come along," or "Go play something else." But Floyd understood that we both wanted to play, and he was willing to take the extra time to make it happen.

At that same camp, one of the activities was to go up to the Dome and play Hockey. Of course, I trailed into the class with the rest of the kids, but wasn't at all surprised when I was dumped unceremoniously into a chair on the sidelines. Being only twelve, I probably had a sulking expression on my face as I listened to my fellow students cavorting around with the hockey sticks. I had been sitting there for only a few minutes when I felt a hand on my shoulder,, and looked up.

"Why the long face?" Floyd asked in his friendly voice.

"Oh, I don't know," I said, caught off guard. "It's okay, I just ..."

"Why aren't you playing hockey?"

"Well, I wouldn't know how ... I mean, I ..."

Floyd laughed and leaned down to me. "Do you think anyone here knows how to play? I bet you're better than all of us."

I gave him one of my famous "yeah, right" expressions, topping it off with a shrug. He laughed, and drew me to my feet. "Come on. At least give it a try."

We walked to where the kids were playing hockey. "Someone get Caitlin a hockey stick," Floyd commanded in his grandfatherly way.

I sensed some of the kids giving me sidelong, doubtful glances, and I just smiled bravely, like I busted into hockey games every day of my life. Someone gave me a stick, and from that point on, it was a team effort. Way too many little girls for comfort were itching to help me aim my stick, still more were chasing the puck and getting it right into my field, and even more were screaming from the sidelines about which direction to aim the stick. Floyd cheered loudest of all.

I never forgot that day at Choir Camp. Not just because I played Hockey, which was lots of fun,, but because there are always those times in a kid's life when they feel left out, and feel like they can't do something adequately. Most often, those feelings go unnoticed and unchanged. To some, it was just a hockey game, but, to me, at the "tender age of twelve," it was something that set me apart, and made me feel awkward. It takes a special person to read into situations, step in and make a difference. Floyd knew how to do that.

I'm singing at Floyd's funeral today; it's going to be sad, but worse for people who knew Floyd better than I.

Moving on. ... The second person who died was my age, and I didn't actually know her at all, but I know her through a good friend. Rebecca L lived in Nova Scotia, and was good friends with Canadian Kaitlyn, as we affectionately call her. Rebecca, who, like Kaitlyn and I, happens to be blind, committed suicide, and left a note for her loved ones. I won't go into details, in part because I don't really know that many, but mainly because I didn't even know Rebecca. But I had a long talk with Kaitlyn yesterday, and she told me how nice a girl Rebecca was, and how close the two of them were. We discussed the fragility of life, and how scary it is that it just ends for some people, whether they choose it or not.

I heard about Rebecca at 3:00 PM or so, went out to dinner, and came home to FaceBook, as usual. While on there, I saw that Charley M had written to Angela M (not related) to tell her that Mrs. W, who most of us had for seventh grade Science, was in a car accident, and was now in a coma. On top of that, Mrs. W's daughter, Dani, was dead.

Dead? Dani? She was only a senior in high school, a year older than me, and during our time in middle school, we had actually been pretty close. I hate it when people say, "Oh, I knew her so well ... it's so awful," and they really hardly knew the person. I don't pretend to have known Dani well, but what I did know about her meant a lot.

I don't really remember when I first met Dani, but one of my first memories of her was, again, when I was around the "tender age of twelve." Derek and I were set to be in the talent show, and were in the "pre-backstage area," which was actually the Art classroom. Anyway, some of the older girls had said I needed makeup, and so they were about to attack my face with the stuff. I, of course, being totally anti-makeup, was doing my best to whine my way out of it, and fend them off. But just then, a friendly hand closed around mine, and Dani said, "Caitlin, it's Dani W, Mrs. W's daughter ... I'll do your makeup, okay? I promise you won't look like a clown."

I loved Mrs. W--she was an amazing science teacher--and I could hear her kind tones mirrored in Dani's voice. So I submitted, and let Dani expertly make up my face. I instantly felt at ease with Dani; she was kind, helpful, clever, and equipped with a wicked, raucous sense of humor. She had a creative streak a mile long, and a loving streak a mile longer. She loved calling everyone pet names, I learned, as she laid down the eyebrow pencil for the third time and said, "Caitlin, Precious, stop laughing ... I can't get your brows on straight!"

Dani was one of those people who made you feel good about yourself, often when you were at your worst. I remember at one Talent Show, the microphones weren't on, and I had been the first one to sing. I was crushed that I hadn't been able to sing as well as I would have liked. In typical Dani fashion, Dani sneaked up behind me, took my chin in her hands, and said, "You're beautiful, dear, and we could all hear you anyway. You still rock my world!"

Dani was always doing little things to make people happy. Often, like with the hockey game, things that might appear insignificant to one person were enormous to another. When I was in eighth grade, I had another special time with Dani. Being a year older than I, Dani was a freshman in high school, but she came back to the Middle School Talent Show. Derek and I were again sitting in the Art room, when I felt a pair of hands lock gently around my eyes. "Guess who?" Dani sang, but not in the cruel or annoying way Derek and I have grown to hate so much. She had an extremely distinctive voice, and she knew it; even after a year of not hearing her, we would remember.

"Dani!" I screamed, and jumped up. She gave me a big bear hug, and I remember, even now, how she stopped hugging me and put her hands on my shoulders, and looked directly into my face. "You look older, missy," she said to me. "Those boys are gonna be chasing you."

"Riiiight," I smirked.

Derek and I, totally hyped with stage fervor, were giddy and unruly, as usual. Dani, again, in typical Dani fashion, chatted with us about this and that, and then taught us a new hand game. I don't know what it's called, but it involves one person placing their hands palms-up, and the other person resting their hands palm-down over the first person's hands. Then, the palms-up person, whose hands are on the bottom, bobs their hands around underneath, pretending to lift their hands over the top. After awhile of bluffing, the bottom person would bob their hands on the pretense of faking, and then flip their hands and slap the person's hands on top. The top person was supposed to get their hands out of the way before they got slapped; they had to know which moves were fake, and which were real. Also, it didn't always have to be a double slap. One hand could be faking, while the other hand slapped, or crossed over to slap the other hand. Derek and I had a ball with it, making Dani close her eyes, claiming she was cheating, shouting at one another, etc. I can still hear Dani's teasing voice, asking, "Are you ready? ... Are you ready? ..." as she bobbed her hands under mine, and I wriggled with anticipation to dart out of the way.

Eventually, Derek and I had to go outside to wait beside the stage doors for our cue to go on. I still remember walking with Dani. She had one bouncing blindie on each side, and she was loving it. I remember, clear as anything, just prancing along, holding her hand in that comfortable way I reserve for people I really adore or trust (I usually slip my arm through people's, or hold the elbow, if I'm feeling super formal). But I held Dani's hand, at that moment, because I was utterly content, because she made me happy, and because she was everything I wanted to be: boisterous, pleasant, fun, amusing, talented, loved, and a comfort, pleasure and help to others. As do most middle school kids, I looked up to many different people, but I realize now, as I reflect on it, how much I looked up to Dani, how much I unconsciously wanted to emulate her. In those brief instances when our lives intersected, I admired her with something I can only describe as vivacity.

As I waited with Derek outside, both of us shrieking and hopping around like mad, me jumping, Derek spinning, Dani guided our hands to a pole, and instructed us to chase one another around it. Screaming with laughter, we did so, and Dani joined right in. And as I ran around that pole, I felt light and care-free as anything. And shortly after, when Dani led us up the stairs and propelled us onstage with a "You can do it!", I felt like I believed her.

Another time I saw Dani was when she scheduled a surprise party for our mutual friend, Jenn D, who is also visually impaired. I remember sitting in Jenn's backyard with a bunch of Jenn's and Dani's friends, drinking my first-ever root beer float, and laughing with the girls because I was so deprived as to have never tasted one.

It developed that Jenn knew Dani through Job's Daughters, an organization for young girls to reach out to the community. The last time I saw Dani was when she was crowned Queen of her Bethel. I remember little about the ceremony, and still less about what Dani and I said to each other. I just remember the hustle and bustle, and I remember my pride in her, and my ever-present ambition to be as successful as she was. Almost like a little sister, I tracked her from afar, keeping an ear open for her name.

And then I hear this. And I think of all the things that remind me of Dani: February 10 (her birthday), the word dulces (part of her screen name), the song "I'm Shy" from "Once Upon A Mattress," which she sang in the talent show, and the song "Job, Job," which reminded me of Dani every time I sang it. If only I'd run into Dani once before she died. If only I could have hugged her again, felt that gentle but firm grip of her helping hand. If only I could have told her how much I loved her, how impressive she was, how she was someone I looked up to so absolutely.

I ask myself why life has to be so unfair, and all I can think is, "She was an angel. You don't meet people like that all the time. And maybe she was just too good to keep here. Maybe she was always meant for something bigger than this world." This thought doesn't cheer me, but it helps me believe that she's okay, wherever she is. That she's helping and teaching and loving people, as she did me. And I remember that one of her screen names was Wild Angel, and it hammers my thoughts home. Sure, it was just a screen name, but maybe it was more than that, somehow, in some twist of fate. And "Job, Job" has a lyric: "All your daughters dead." I thought of that today, and it sent a stab of shock through me. Because when I first sang that, of course, I thought of Dani, the only Job's Daughter I ever knew. The most real Job's Daughter. And now she's dead. And that's disturbing. But then another set of lyrics come to mind, those of a song entitled "Borrowed Angels," performed by Kristin Chenoweth:

They shine a little brighter,

They feel a little more

They touch your life in ways no one has ever done before.

They love a little stronger,

They live to give their best

They make our lives so blest.

So why do they go so soon?

The ones with souls so beautiful

I heard someone say--

There must be

Borrowed Angels, here in this life

They come along, into this world, and make this world bright.

But they can't stay forever 'cause they're heaven sent

And sometimes, heaven needs them back again.

They reach a little deeper,

They see what's in your soul

And even when they leave you know, you'll never let them go.

The world's a little richer,

Just 'cause they came along

Their love goes on and on.

So why do they go so soon?

The ones with souls so beautiful

I heard someone say--

There must be

Borrowed Angels, here in this life

They come along, into this world, and make this world bright.

But they can't stay forever, 'cause they're heaven sent

And sometimes, heaven needs them back again.

How else can you explain

Why they're here and not here to stay?

I believe there must be,

Must be

Borrowed Angels, here in this life

They come along, into this world, and make this world bright.

But they can't stay forever, 'cause they're heaven sent

And sometimes heaven needs them back again.

And sometimes heaven needs them back again.

It's later now, 4:44 PM actually. My Mom went to my middle school and found out that Mrs. W is still on the cusp, responding to touch and surgery well, but having issues with pressure on her eye and-or brain. And her face is really hurt badly. And hearing about her daughter's death will certainly not aid her in recovery, unfortunately. There's also been a press release since, just saying that Dani was pronounced dead on the accident scene, and that seat belts were on, weather conditions were clear, and the accident was at around 8:50 Sunday morning. And it was a new car, and Mrs. W was driving. It's just so awful, I still can't believe it. I keep hearing Dani's laughter in my head, and it makes me crazy thinking that I'll never talk to her again, never hear her infectious laugh or hear her yell, "Caitlin, babe, what's up!" across the quad like she once did. For that matter, I may never hear Mrs. W do similar things.

On top of all this, I just found out that one of my relatives, aged in her late nineties, fell and had a minor heart attack. And now SHE's in the hospital. Great. Why is everyone freaking dying? And sitting through Floyd's funeral was really hard,, not only because I felt badly about Floyd, but because I kept hearing Dani in my head. And it was awful. Because even though Floyd is gone, he lived a full life. He touched so many people. And Dani did, too, but she could have lived so much longer. Done so much more. Achieved all her dreams. But now she can't. And that's what's worst of all.

I have to go do homework. Sorry this entry was so depressing. But it's what's going on. On a lighter note, I had a good talk with Bec, Andre, Maria and Farhan last night, which I haven't done in a long time. I hung out with Eric and Derek a little after my Choir concert on Friday, which they were both wonderful to attend. It didn't go very well, I don't think, but they seemed to like it. Although I think they were just being nice. But hey, that's what friends are for. And Derek and I are planning on going to Eric's concert next weekend. Hmmm, what else? Oh, did I mention Lannie threw up for the first time at home a couple weeks ago? And poor Esquire threw up at school for no reason. But thank goodness it was in the Resource room. Silly puppies. They recovered quickly though. Hmmm, what else? Um. I like the cookies our school bakes. And I like riding on those weird cart things. And I witnessed an intruder being escorted off our campus by Tony, tailed by John Jacob. And Lannie is having separation anxiety issues, and it disturbs me. And I've been coughing for the past week, which is stupid. But I suppose I didn't help matters by eating a ton of Ben and Jerry's Chocolate Fudge Brownie today. And no, I'm not overeating in an attempt to assuage my Death Trauma, or whatever. I just had a chocolate craving. I also have a headache, I just realized, which is really, really weird, because I never get them, so I'd better go do my homework before I totally crash. I don't mean to depress you all with this, or freak you out, BTW. I'm just updating. And I'm sure this weird headache will go away. I never get them, so it's doubtful they'll start up in earnest now.

See you guys, and please take care. And tell everyone you love that you love them. Because that's important.
blue dude

(no subject)

Sunday, November 19, 2006

Time: 11:20 PM

Current Mood: Happy!

Current Music: Me Typing

In My Room

Hi, guys!

Sorry I kind of disappeared from the face of the Earth with no warning. I'm shocked that anyone really noticed--I mean, it's just my LJ--but I'm getting all these panicked e-mails asking if I'm, like, dead or depressed or something, which I'm definitely not. I am very much alive and happy. I've just been so busy, and quite frankly, I don't have as much to say in here as I used to. I still write a lot, but I don't want to post everything online for the world to see the way I once did. It's not that all of it is so very private, it's just that the majority of my compositions only makes sense to me, or have significance and meaning in my eyes. And it's also that that I write for myself in a way that I never really did before, and I don't particularly want to share some of what I produce, if that even makes any sense. Plus, there's not as much I feel up to prattling about. Dialogs from school are always amusing, but I don't often have the time or energy required to recount them, nor do I think half the people who read this thing really have an interest in reading them. Yes, I do know that I have become strange over the past year. Someone told me this weekend that I have become "cynical," which I found amusing. I don't really perceive myself as being notably sarcastic, or pessimistic, or whatever. I do suspect that my outlook on life has changed drastically, however. But anyway, enough of these quixotic ramblings. What's been happening with me? Basically, school and choir. I have been eating, sleeping, singing, and breathing Honor Choir for the past two weeks or so, and I've been loving it. I adored all the music, and all the work I put towards learning it. I could never have made it without, among others, Eric and Marielle, the former for playing parts for me, recording them and sitting with me and listening to my endless questions about "I don't geeet it" and "How does that work?", and the latter for being the best sight-reader ever, and totally helping me during preliminary rehearsals. Intermittent with all the Honor Choir practice, Chem, Huckleberry Finn and random US History assignments have graced my life, as well as washing disgusting things from Bio labs and cutting leaves of ivy with a pair of hedge clippers and frightening one of our school custodians, because, oh my gosh, the blind girl has something sharp in her hand, even though the safety catch was obviously engaged. Also worth mentioning, I suppose, was that I spoke at a Blind Babies function; I do hope it went over all right. The speech itself, I felt, was somewhat lacking in quality, but I was speaking to a bunch of wallet-happy people who had just eaten and drunk a good deal, so that's probably why they all stood up, in actuality. Be that as it may, it was a pleasant endeavor that I won't soon forget.

This weekend consisted of the actual Honor Choir preparation and performance on the Stanford campus. I must say that I wholeheartedly enjoyed myself. In addition being with Derek and Eric all weekend, I got to know a lot of the Choir kids better, and I think they saw the more outgoing, devilish side of me in a way that they never could in class. From force-feeding me oranges, to calling me in my hotel room to ask for a C Sharp, to riding in car pools, to everything and more, you name it, everything was just perfect. Our conductor was amazing, it music was freaking majestic, and the power behind so many voices united in creating music was seriously one of the most hear%t-stopping, moving experiences in which I have ever participated. I grew socially and emotionally this weekend more than I ever could have imagined, and I had fun doing it. í felt like I belonged, and was accepted and cared for, and that was refreshing and exhilarating.

Well, that's Enough from me, I guess. I don't know when you'll hear from me next. I don't plan on going off on these random ten-day silences as a rule, but I think my daily updates are over, or at least on hiatus. I'll not be so aloof in future, I promise. I hope y'ra all well. And I really will reply to comments someday, I have, like, a hundred of them. I'm awful, yes, I know this.

Oh, by the way, Happy Thanksgiving Break!
blue dude

(no subject)

Tuesday, November 7, 2006

Time: 10:29 PM

Current Mood: Happyyyyy!

Current Music: Me Typing

In My Room

On The Computer

So, I was randomly happy in Bio because I got to unpack shiny brand-new slides and cover slips. Then I was sad in Chem because ... well, I'm bad at Chem? And then I was mad on the way to English because I'm tired of peopel running into Lannie and I in the halls and not apologizing or moving or being remotely kind. And then I was happy in English because I wrote a random poem. And then I was happy at Brunch because I was with my friends and ate yummy candy. And then I was happy in History because we had a fake election. And then I was really, really happy in Choir. i was seriously filled with Choir love today. I got to lead a weird random dancing chorus exercise and everyone clapped and laughed at and for me, nonrespectively. And I love singing christmas songs like jingle Bells and Oh Come All ye Faithful. I smile and dance when I'm not even supposed to, because i feel so goood. And then we had Honor Choir practice, which made me feel both happy and terrified, because the musi is sooo haaard, and I'm gonna diiie. And then I ate my Lunch in Resource and gushed about Philip Pullman's books with Heather and took Lannie outside, during which soem random guy said "hey" to me, and I have no idea who he was, and it was rather awkward. And then in Treble I led the same exercise and got clapped for again, and it toally made my day, the whole thing. And then we um sang, i guess, oh yeah, we did. I was just trying to remember what we sang. But now I remember. Um. And then i had Mobility, but I was being a slacker, and so Mr. C and I mostly jsut talked. And walked randomly around near the portables trying to find a non-muddy relieving spot. And then we went to Resource, where Lannie got petted and started playing with all the womenfolk teacher-type people. And then ... uh-oh, I'm being yelled at to go to bed. Um, I ate food and had tutoring, e-mailed with Rachel so fast we might as well have been IMing and talked to my wonderful friends Eric and Kaitlyn on the phone. I also played the piano: my song is so totally like almost actually done, like, oh my Gooosh! Like, it's so fun! Seriously. And i'm sorry I haven't written, iv'e jsut been so busy tired. And now i msut go. So tootles! Four-day weekend though. Yes, yes, soooo sexyyy! okay. Byyye!
blue dude

(no subject)

Sunday, November 5, 2006

Time: 10:14 PM

Current Mood: Happy

Current Music: Eric On Phone

In My Room

I like Choir. Even though my voice is, like, shot. I love my friends, and I hate my enemies. Yes! With a fiery passion! I can beat up people, even if they're twice my size; is that clear? Yes!

And now, I really have to go, because I'm being yelled at. More later.
blue dude

(no subject)

Friday, November 3, 2006

Time: 11:09 PM

Current Mood: Happily Tired

Current Music: Me Typing

In My Room

It's at times like this when I feel completely at peace in the world. I just took out The Amber Spyglass and read my favorite scene, and it made me feel so warm and contented inside. And I reflected on my friends, and my life in general, which, even though it has its ups and downs, really is pretty darn good. And I just feel good all over, and that makes me happy.

It's late, and I have a sore throat (colds are definitely going around), and I have choir rehearsals tomorrow and Sunday, so I'd best go to bed. Í'll try to write more soon, I know I've been very lax and uninformative of late. Honestly nothing has been going on, except I got A Minuses in all three academic subjects--Chem, English and US History--which kind of irked me. I feel like I could be doing much better. If it weren't for disturbing, teenaged, hormone-induced thoughts that pervade my existence, Í could probably actually focus and do better. But pshsh, I didn't say that.

Peace out, have a good weekend!
blue dude

(no subject)

Wednesday, November 1, 2006

Time: 10:06 PM

Current Mood: Happy

CUrrent Music: Eric On The Phone

In My Room

Wow, yay for Eric's blowing his nose in my ear. Talking about ... things I won't elucidate about here, because they are of a personal matter to the aforementioned.

Today was fun. I am reading the best novel called Gremlins, or The Gremlins, or something. In contrast to the movie, which I am told was cheesy, this book is intriguing and very well-written.

Choir today was uneventful; Hunter wasn't there, so I had no one to orture. I hate singing songs on "pah," "doo," "la," "loo" and various other variations. Especially when they're in foreign languages.

It's a new month, which means a Heartworm pill for vannie and a hundred more books for me! (goes off into Dreamland)

Tootle pip!
blue dude

(no subject)

Monday, October 30, 2006

Time: 10:24 PM

Current Mood: Happy

Current Music: The Simpsons

In My Room

Hmmm, so. Not much news to tell. I'm bad at English again this year, which makes me sad. My Blindie Novel is very strange, but entertaining. My friends make me ha%ppy. I got compliments about my Star Dust solo, which makes me happy. I ate pizza and got a shiny new tape recorder. Lannie is snoring, and I love our Honor Choir music, FaceBook and big, huge cups of water. And being random. And honestly, that's my life at the moment. So hugs to you all!