Sister

So my eldest sister is in town. She, her husband, and their child are moving from Texas to Alaska. Christine's husband has been sworn into the National Guard in Alaska. Makayla is the most adorable eight month old I've ever met.
Can you hear the "but" coming on? I don't know where I fit into my sister's new family. Plus, I don't completely trust her husband. He is not the type of someone that you meet and trust right at the first. Over the past few hours (they cam in around noon yesterday and are leaving this morning) I've grown to trust him a little bit more. But the thing is I think I know where I fit in with her family. I fit in as "The Teenager". This has never happened in my family. At least, not with my second eldest sister (and the closest sibling I have in age and in heart)and my mother. They both respect me and listen to me without dissing everything that pops out of my mouth as hormone ridden rubbish. My sister (the married one) only talks to me like that (or "teases" me of being a teenager and hormone ridden) when she and her husband are together. Or if she's talking with Mom. My sister is not very stable, mind you. She should be on medication... but she's not. She is better than she was a few years ago, but still.
I don't like being "The Teenager". I like being "Bitsy". We don't tease like that in my family anymore. Christine's "teasing" has always held an ounce of truth, making it hurt more than it causes laughs.
I just want to be "Bitsy".

5805 and The Moment I Said It

songs of the day hahahah

This one is by Classic Crime and it's called "5805" why is that? I have no idea : P

Friends, I will keep you like trophies,
In my heart to remember how loneliness,
Was a faded dream on two hundred and nineteenth street.
We were more than just young, we were full of it.
And no one could touch us or take us in,
Watching the sunset from the roof,
We'd plan our next adventure.

I was 19 and young,
Thought I had it all figured it out.
The world was our oyster,
And we dove in to get the pearl out.

Now we are swimming in memories,
How we wish we could go back.

I've got a sneaking suspicion that
Hindsight only favors good vision.
But I'm not one to complain when it's all I dream of.
We were more than just useless and stupid kids,
The music it moved us, we shook our fists,
As we sang along at the top of our lungs.

Now we are swimming in memories,
How we wish we could go back.
We hold the hope that someday
We'll see the world again like that.
Like that,
Like that,
Like that!

Now we are swimming in memories,
How we wish we could go back.
We hold the hope that someday
We'll see the world again like that!
Like that,
Oh, like that!
Like that!
Yeah!


and this one is by Imogen Heap "The Moment I Said It"

I hadn't really realized what it was about 'til I looked up the lyrics. : P Now I know why I was drawn to it : P

The moment I said it
the moment I opened my mouth
lead in your eyelids
Bulldozed the life out of me
I know what you're thinking
But darling you're not thinking straight
Sadly things just happen.... we can't...... explain

It's not even light out,
But you've somewhere to be - no hesitation
No I've never seen you like this
And I dont like it, I dont like it, I dont like it at all

Just put back the car keys
or somebody's going to get hurt
who are you calling at this hour
sit down, come round , I need you now
we'll work it all out together
we're getting no where tonight
now sleep, I promise, it'll all seem better somehow
in time

It's not even light out
Suddenly, you've somewhere to be
No hesitation
mmm...I've never seen you like this
Your scaring me, Youre scaring me,
Your scaring me to death

Don't..oh, smash....please
Don't...oh.....and another one
Don't...oh.....and another one

I'm losing you.......I'm losing you

Trust me on this one
I've got a bad feeling
Trust me on this one
You're going to throw it all away
With no hesitation

Bye bye bye bye bye bye
bye bye bye bye bye
bye bye bye
bye

Folding Chair

This song has been stuck in my head all day and I love it.

"Folding Chair" by Regina Spektor

Come and open up your folding chair next to me
My feet are buried in the sand and there’s a breeze
There’s a shadow, you can’t see my eyes
And the sea is just a wetter version of the skies

Let’s get a silver bullet trailer and have a baby boy
I’ll safety-pin his clothes all cool and you’ll grafitti up his toys
I’ve got a perfect body, though sometimes I forget
I’ve got a perfect body cause my eyelashes catch my sweat
Yes, they do, they do

Ooh ooh ooh ooh ooh ooh ooh ooh ooh ooh, Ooh ooh ooh ooh ooh-ooh.
Ooh ooh ooh ooh ooh ooh ooh ooh ooh ooh, Ooh ooh ooh ooh ooh.

Now I’ve been sitting on this abandoned beach for years
Waiting for the salty water to cover up my ears
But every time the tide come in to take me home
I get scared, and I’m sitting here alone
Dreaming of the dolphin song

Ooh ooh ooh ooh ooh ooh ooh ooh ooh ooh, Ooh ooh ooh ooh ooh-ooh.
Ooh ooh ooh ooh ooh ooh ooh ooh ooh ooh, Ooh ooh ooh ooh ooh.

Maybe one day you will understand
I don’t want nothing from you but to sweetly hold your hand
Till that day just please don’t be so down
Don’t make frowns, you silly clown

Just come and open up your folding chair next to me
My feet are buried in the sand and there’s a breeze
There’s a shadow, you can’t see my eyes
And the waves are just a frothier version of the skies

There’s a shadow, you can’t see my eyes
There's a shadow, you can't see my eyes.

Christmas Eve : )

So it's Christmas Eve
: D
I painted my finger nails (green with red polka dots). I've been spending my time with Becky. She's the best sister anyone could have, she knows me so well. I would not trade her for billions of dollars or thousands of books. I hope i will be able to find a man I will love just as much as I love my family and my Heavenly Father. The snow has been purely amazing. We tried to make an igloo, Becky and I, but we got tired too quickly and made a penguin and a snowman. I'll upload those photos later. I'm wearing my Christmas pajamas and asked Mom to put braids in my hair like she did when we were little.
I've been thinking about writing lately. Of course, I'm always thinking about writing or music but whatever. I was thinking about how a good author is a writer who can describe the ordinary in captivating ways. I don't know if I could really be an author. When I write it's only one feeling I'm describing in such dramatic detail and that alone takes so much energy out of me I don't know if I could write a whole book worth of it, let alone a short story. Now I understand what they mean about practice. If I practice writing in such vivid conditions I may be able to become so accustomed to it that everything I write would have that deep undertone of color and life.
I guess I'll have to keep writing in my blog huh?
MERRY CHRISTMAS! I LOVE YOU ALL!

sweet clothes and jewelry

dude this stuff is SWEET! hahahahah

Letting Go

So yeah, I have this guy-friend.... We have a really twisted history... I've been wanting to leave the friendship for a while.... But I couldn't because I felt obligated to be an example to him. See, he's left the church... and I've watched as his pain and hatred grows and spreads. His eyes have become more and more clouded and his sight has become twisted. His parents either do not see the pain he is in or do not know how to help him. They yell at him, tell him he should be more like his brother who has his own faults. He does not understand many things. This past year he has left the church, and I see how he hates what the church can do to some people. See some people follow the church, but Satan still has power over them. They do not love and seek to understand those they care for. Their minds become narrow and their hearts shrink into withered forms of what they once were. He does not see the inner joy and light that the gospel brings. He has had no one be the positive example for him. I have tried to show him the positive. I have tried to stay by his side and comfort him. I have tried to show him the light and the life that the gospel brings. I have not done a good job. I have shown him my weaker side, the side of me that falters from the Spirit late at night. I have been influenced by his need and his wants. I have let myself bend my standards in order to try to help him. I cannot fool myself any longer. I tried to tell him this. The words were not said correctly, the feelings influenced my thoughts and my words. My great ache for him to feel the love of the Savior kept me from hearing the Spirit. I could not explain to him what I meant. I could not tell him that I could not see him. I could not tell him that I wished I could show him the piercing light that brings so much joy. I cannot lift him up from the ground, to turn his eyes to the light that shines through any darkness. I have failed him as a friend. But still, I cannot harbor anger towards myself for this. What's done is done. When I told him I could not see him but could still talk to him online and such, he wanted to cut off all communication. I waited for his anger to pass. I wished so hard in those few days that he would not become so hard-hearted as to not understand.
I spoke with him again yesterday. I still cannot see him again. He said that he would come to my school today for lunch. He never showed, or at least I never saw him. This is by far not the first time he has done this. I have wanted to just leave this friendship behind me completely, to be free of the ties that make me sad when he does not follow the Spirit, for many weeks now. I am almost to that point. There is only a small part of me that still wants him to come back to the light.
But I know even years from now, if I ever think on him again it will be in a subtle ache that he would have known the glories of God. That he would have witnessed the Pure Love of Christ. That he would finally come back home to the church and find someone to marry faithfully in the temple.

If you ever read this, I'm sorry if even now I still do not understand you. If my words are pointless and my thoughts are frivolous to you.

Breath

Constricting in my chest. I try to yawn, forcing the soft pallet up, trying to induce the action and failing miserably. I try once more, concentrating on my lungs, I force them to fill. I hope that it will happen. That moment I long for. The moment when a secret place inside of me seems to open up, the breath scoops down into my body and I am content. I feel the tension that builds in my neck, I lean my chin in my hand and twist my neck left then right. Two clicks to each turn, I try to breathe again. Once more, the second I get close to that secret, full breath my ribs freeze and I can't possibly get anymore air into me.
I feel as though half of my life has been spent on this struggle. If I stress myself out or don't get enough sleep I cannot breathe the next day. I cannot yawn.
I cannot breathe. Nothing is here, it gapes in front of me. I am desperate to breathe. Desperate for that secret place within me.

thoughts

I think about life. How fragile it is. I heard once that it only takes three minutes without new breath to make a person die. I wonder if that is true. I think about all of the minutes that go unnoticed in my life. I can't beat myself up for that. There will always be a life that goes unnoticed, someone who dies alone.
Words crowd in my head now and I cannot find the words. They come into my head and they do not sound my own. They sound like the words of someone who hates life. Who does not understand their own place in life. I cannot think without music. I cannot think of such deep things without silence or music.
I want to be under the moon. To be out in a field of high grass with the night all around and forests in the distance. I want to look up and gasp with the ultimate glory of the night sky. Nothing will ever come close to that great tumult of light and dark. To find the same chaos and out of place calm that mixes within myself reflected back at me in such a grand scale. My heart will never be the same. I yearn for that night.

Beethoven

He wrote some amazing stuff. (silence i think it's a piano concerto) (his fifth symphony which everyone knows, but i really like the first movement since that's all I've been able to get my hands on so far) (lacrimosa)

So basically I have nothing going through my head today. I think today is one of those input days, while most days are output days. Like today I want to read books but other days I want to... well.. sort of... well to be honest I want to write books. That urge has been stronger lately, the urge to write books I mean. Usually I just have a blip of a scene like in a movie or a wisp of a story line, but recently it's been more... detailed I guess. I've actually wanted to write about what I know, the pains I know, the fear I know, and even the joy that I know. The ultimate glory in life that courses through me only when I am connected to the Spirit or the earth which is always through the spirit... so I don't know. See that's the thing, I kind of hate it when I read books with a strong view of Christianity. Since I am so convinced that my gospel is the only true, complete gospel I find it hard to tolerate books that are built upon the very contradictions I don't believe in. I'm also afraid that if I read books strongly oriented in their own gospel of Christ that I will lose my own foundation. I guess another reason why I don't write about the Spirit is because I don't know a lot of things about the Gospel, but I know that it is true...
See I can describe the feeling, but I cannot describe the reasons behind it. Yet, I know the reasons... in my soul. See, that's where music comes into play. I think that if I learn how to sing well enough I would be able to express every part of it. But I can't. I can't write it, I can't speak it, I can't sing it, I can just... feel it. The Spirit... the feelings I get when my soul recognizes the truth of the things I read, the things I see, nothing. Nothing will ever.... Nothing will ever be great enough to encompass the shear glory of the moment in which the whole being is filled with the true realizations that come only from the Gospel of the Savior as taught by the Latter-day Saints of His church.
May my mother be forever blessed for joining the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.
hahahaha oooh the joy.

There goes my head again

My head is doing something... I can't quite place where I've felt this pain before.... It finally came to me while I was telling my friend about the awkward pain in my head. FAINT! One time, I almost fainted in dance class 'cause I hadn't been drinking enough water (as usual) so I spent like felt like forever sitting against the wall trying to keep my breathing normal. Yeah, so I don't have that vertigo that you usually get, but I have that awkward pain behind my eyes and other places that I can't detect. The pain behind my eyes is the only pain I can put words to.. the rest of the pain is in... well that's the thing, it's like a ghost pain and I can't figure out where exactly it is.
I was diagnosed with fibromyalgia this past year and although I was used to adapting to the pain, since I got on medication my body has made the transition and I felt the pain I had ignored for all those years for a small amount of time. Anywho, I don't really care about pain anymore, but dude, it feels funny.

Anywho I think it was just hunger that caused the feeling, since I recently ate cereal and am now finishing an orange. The pain is gone and I'm perfectly back to normal

Thanks Mills

So I read Mills latest blog and I got thinking. What I would like to have at some point in my life is a big house. Off topic? hahaha no.
If I had a big house I could have all of my friends over. We could spend long winter days there, curled up eating foreign fruits and good things lol. Crabs and lobsters, pomegranates and grapes and oranges, venison and maybe some medallions (pork : P ). We'd eat amazing desserts like french silk pie and other delicious European sweets. We'd read books and listen to music and sing and play instruments. We'd laugh and argue and hug. We'd uplift and forgive one another more times than we could count. No one would be left out and we'd go on adventures discovering the beauty of winter outside in the trees and places that surround my house. We'd stay up late drinking hot chocolate and tea, watching the snow fall out in the dark.
A Christmas tree would be cut down and dragged into the great room of my house lined with windows with heavy drapes that were always pulled back. The tree would be placed in the center of the room. It's ceiling a great dome, allowing the tree to be as tall as we pleased. A great fresco painting would exist on the ceiling all of it leading to the center where a great flurry of stars would mass and explode outward. The top of the tree with its Angel Moroni would stand just below this. He would be at least a foot tall, made with the perfect metal so as to shimmer and shine for all to see. Christmas lights wrapped around the trunk and draped amid the branches would make it glow from within.
Old ornaments would be hung. Delicate ones of spun glass and porcelain. Wooden ones and woven ones. Ornaments recently made and ornaments handed down for generations.
They would all come from there many homes for one week. We would hide ourselves in the mountains for a while to remember the past and dream of the future.
Books would be stacked by chairs in great piles. Cd's and movies would be littered on tables.
The fire place would be on the opposite side from the front entry. It would be big enough to fit a grown man or two with a beautifully sculpted mantle decorated with pictures of families and cards from loved ones.
We would all come to spend a week in this house, and we would bring all of the decorations and new recipes to try out. We'd go outside on adventures the old fashion way with sleighs and horses and the like with dozens of blankets.
The front entry would be large enough to hold fifty people easily with rows and rows of shoe shelves and coat hooks. A great closet with snow shoes and ice skates brought to the house years ago and well worn from past visits would branch to the side. The walls would all be circular. The front door would be the height of two men. It would have panels of ornate carvings with figures from long ago. On the far side would be the door to the rest of the house. It would be unadorned and without decoration except for a great wreath hung from the top. All of it would be made from the wilderness outside with berries and winter flowers and pine boughs. Through this door you would enter into the great central room.
Its panels of glass windows would be lined with great couches and chairs. Some would face in and others out towards the glass. All would be luxurious in material and perfect in its comfort. For those tired of soft lounging chairs made of sturdy wood or beautiful stone would be interspersed. Great thick lap blankets or soft light throw blankets would be placed near each. A table would be on the other side. Between each setting would be a larger table of a variety of material. All would coexist beautifully in unexpected but wonderful combinations. Connecting wall to ceiling would be colored glass of all shades. The panels would be diamond cut and about two inches across and three inches long. Each would be a different color and there would be no order in its placement. After this the fresco would begin with the deepest black becoming a dark blue near the center that would be accented more and more with star and cloud.
The entry door would be facing West, the fireplace facing East. At North and South would be two french doors. The North made of a dark mahogany wood, the other with a pale, pale aspen. Each would depict in its carvings characteristics of its direction.
Behind these doors hallways branched off. Along these hallways doors would be placed leading into each set of rooms. The wall of the hallways would match the wood of their North or South entry doors. The doors along the hallways would each be individual and none would be similar in any way to the next.
Each occupant would be placed in a suite that matched their character well enough so as to make them comfortable.
These hallways would end in another door. This door would be taller and grander than all those in the hallway and would hold either a grand library on the North or a musical room on the South. The library would be magnificent in size and almost perfect in its knowledge, holding books on the technical things in life and also the unknown and fantastical. The music room would hold any instrument imaginable with hundreds of thousands of musical texts. Each would hold more chairs and couches for comfortable study or performing. At the opposite end of the library and music room would be another door.
These doors would either lead to the kitchens on the North side or the storage and cleaning rooms on the South. All of these rooms and suites would be circular in shape except the hallways ( : P ).
So you can think of this house sort of like a snowflake. There would be one grand circle holding it together with three branches coming from it. All of these branches would be like bubbles coming from it that would connect to more bubbles. So maybe not like a snowflake : P
Oh and each room would have it's own fireplace.
Oh and connected to the kitchen and such would be an underground tunnel leading to the barn where animals would be kept, though dogs and cats would be hugely welcomed in the main house.
Oh and all those who help take care of the house and everything in it would get big pay and be a part of the family.
I think we'll need more than a week to spend here... and maybe everyone could bring their families.... It's gonna be a big house.
I pray one day I will be able to build something like this.
This is the second house I've made up, but the other one wasn't nearly as good as this one.
Well, you're all welcome to come whenever you want.

Music

So I'm kind of in love with music

"Something Told the Wild Geese"

Something told the wild geese it was time to go
Though the fields lay golden something whispered snow
Leaves were green and stirring
Berries luster glossed
But beneath warm feathers something cautioned something cautioned frost

All the sagging orchards
Steamed with amber spice
But each wild breast stiffened at remembered Ice

Something told the wild geese it was time to fly
Summer sun was on their wings
Winter, winter, winter in their cry


I love this song. I sang it in the choir I sang with in middle school. I've been thinking of it lately, trying to remember the tune during the orchards and remembered ice. I've been humming it lately along with


"Carol of Joy"

Green leaves all fallen, withered and dry;
Brief sunset fading, dim winter sky.
Lengthening shadows, Dark closing in…
Then, through the stillness, carols begin!

Oh fallen world, to you is the song—
Death holds you fast and night tarries long.
Jesus is born, your curse to destroy!
Sweet to your ears, a carol of Joy!

Pale moon ascending, solemn and slow;
Cold barren hillside, shrouded in snow;
Deep, empty valley veiled by the night;
Hear angel music—hopeful and bright!

Oh fearful world, to you is the song—
Peace with your God, and pardon for wrong!
Tidings for sinners, burdened and bound—
A carol of joy! A Saviour is found!

Earth wrapped in sorrow, lift up your eyes!
Thrill to the chorus filling the skies!
Look up sad hearted—witness God’s love!
Join in the carol swelling above!

Oh friendless world, to you is the song!
All Heaven’s joy to you may belong!
You who are lonely, laden, forlorn—
Oh fallen world! Oh friendless world!
To you,
A Saviour is born!

Hearing this song in my inner ear is more powerful than any song I have ever sung. The beginning makes me think of families. Mothers and daughters and lovers and children; our tender ones crying out in pain at the death of a loved one. And then, oh the glory of the sound, the sound of hope that rises up above the earth to caress the heart of God. The thought of the same voices that moments ago have lamented and wailed are now listening to the angels sing in all their glory, proclaiming joy. It is truly magnificent.

The sky is a pale gray today. The wind that comes in through the window is cold. Bare branches shoot out into the pure gray. (String Quartet No. 3 in D Major, Op.44/1: II. Menuetto: Un Poco Allegr) Ghosts of images are building in my mind. Swimming around this music. It takes shape in my inner eye. A white stag. Antlers tall and majestic. He stands in a valley. The sky above him is filled with low brooding clouds that cut the surrounding mountains in half. The grass beneath him is dead with frost. He turns and begins to make the climb up. Soon he is there. He disappears in the clouds that cling so tightly to the mountains.

What?

I wake up late since I have no place I have to go today. No one is home. Suzanne is probably out picking up Mom from work.
The news is on. Breaking news. Seventy-eight people are known to be dead. Terror washes over India. The attackers are targeting people with British or American passports. Luckily, no Americans are known to be dead. How could the news reporter say that? Now, he didn't say "Luckily" but that's what it felt like when he said it. Seventy-eight people are dead, but so far none of them are Americans so it's okay. Now, I'm not saying that when anyone is killed the U.S. Government should step in and "take care of it", but why is it not as bad just because no one from our country is dead? Why can't we, as humans, care? Why can't we do all that we can to help those two-hundred people who are injured? What would give me hope is the news person announcing that a group of people have banded together and are on their way right now to try to do something good in Mumbai.
But no one is.
No one will do anything until there are some dead Americans. Is that the only thing that will make us do anything good for anyone, dead people?
I thank the people out there in Mumbai who are taking pictures and sending in videos to the major news companies. At least they are getting the word out about the horror of human anger.
May I search for a way to make a difference in this world, not because people are dieing, but because people are living and they deserve better.

Old one

So while I was setting this blog up I was looking through my drafts in my email and poof, I glanced over some old stories I wrote forever ago and a line from one of them caught my eye. "I hold life in my hands." A memory rushes to fill my mind. Sitting at the computer as I do now, expressing my feelings in the only way I know. Music and singing is a way to do so, but it is not enough. At least, not for me. Writing has always been the only way I have been able to find an outlet for the feelings I don't, and sometimes can't, share with anyone. So here, in this blog, I will share some of those feelings.

I hold life in my hands. It's my first step to such a bright future. I thought such light and happiness was in my future, but i never realized that at some point it would have to start seeping into my life. I laugh at myself now... I have been such a fool in this life. I'm going to let myself have happiness. Just because it has been long in coming doesn't mean it was never going to come, or that i was going to go through high school without it. One thing is still with me, the fear that it will not last. Every time this fear rears its gruesome head it seems false. But I cannot deny it. It will keep me in its grip for a while yet.