Bard the Director?

First off, I'd like to say THANK YOU! to impromptu-mom for sending me needles for my cross stitch! I wasn't even sure what size I needed!
Today I went to a homeschooled choir. I did it last week, too, but I think I forgot to mention it. Whatever. They're pretty good, all things considered. I mean, they're not professional or anything, but they aren't supposed to be. The director is really nice.
Except for the fact that she doesn't actually direct.
Anyone familiar with music knows that there is always a conductor gesturing madly with a little pointy stick. This is to:
a) Indicate to the musicians what the tempo is,
b) Indicate to the musicians how they are meant to play/sing the music (gently, forte, crescendo)
d) Indicate to the musicians when to come in.
She wasn't conducting. She was standing with her arms folded towards the back of the sanctuary. I know this is because she isn't actually a conductor. She was in a choir, and wanted to give the opportunity to the homeschoolers. I can understand that.
I was talking to Mom about it on the way home, and she commented that I should organize (after this choir is finished) another homeschooled choir and direct. To which I replied "Yeah right. I'm not a conductor, either."
"Bard, you know more about conducting than she does." That's true. But still.
"Mom, I can pretty much only do this." I began to beat out three four time (a waltz).
"So. You can ask Mrs. Jay for help. I'm sure she'd be glad to give you a few pointers. Bard, you know about music. You know when it's right or not."
I'm not too sure about this idea. I'm not that great a sight reader, and I'm not that much of a leader. What if the other teens just laughed at me? It's not like I ever lead anything in normal life. I don't think anyone would listen to me.
Earlier we went to a writer's group. It was interesting. The people were really nice. I didn't have much of a problem with anything, although Mom thought that there was a lot of adult language (mostly in the actual writing, not so much in the discussion that I noticed.). I think the people were very good at giving constructive criticism. That's a hard thing to do. Speaking of that, I'm going to give Deb a chapter of some of my prose fiction and let her tell me if it's any good. I don't think it is. Re-reading it, I realize that I'm an awful writer.
And I can't fix it. It's really very frustrating.

Baseball

Monet had a baseball game today, so I went. I read during about half of it, but that half I watched was pretty good. We won.
I remember when I was in soccer, and we weren't supposed to keep score during games (we did, of course). The best games were when the kids on both teams had lost track at some point, so both thought they'd won. No hard feelings. I also remember getting locked in the porta-john before one game. I'm not sure how...
At Tal's, we talked about our stories, and we did a couple of things for Strange TV. Interview with a dead guy (I almost always interview. Tal was the dead guy.), a talk show that ended up with the dead guy jumping on Edison, the man (in the dead guy's opinion) responsible for his death. The best part was when Edison said something like "The monkeys attacked you because you made a funny face." Tal started yelling stuff like "I don't make funny faces! That was my normal face." Edison commented that Tal must have a really weird normal face.
"Is that an insult?" Tal said threateningly.
"Yeah. I'd sure hate to be you!" Edison responded loudly. The entire thing was almost completely unscripted, and it was great. Obviously Tal and I had some idea where we wanted it to go, but the main stuff was ad lib. I'm so totally going to be a director.
I stunk at art again today, but that's no surprise. After I went to the neighbor's to clean I found out that she didn't want me to come today (she left a message because Pop was apparently on the phone.) Too late. Oh well.

Dance Dance Revolution!

Okay, so I thought this game was a little odd, and probably beyond my skills as a dancer. Even beyond my skills as a coordination person, since don't have any. We went to this ecology thing (which I'll probably talk more about later) and at the lodge that was hosting one of the events, they had one.
In case you don't know what Dance Dance Revolution is, I'll tell you. It's kind of like that Spider Stompin' game, except there's music playing, and on the screen, it shows you which square to step on. And sometimes you have to jump on more than one square. Oh, and you have to do it exactly when it tells you to.
Anyway, Edison tried it and did pretty well for a first timer. He was on the beginner's level, of course. Then I said to myself, "Hey, why don't we try that?" So I did. Unfortuately, the first song I tried was pretty fast, so I was overwhelmed and let Edison take over. I wasn't going to try again, but Mom and Edison both told me to. I chose We Will Rock You by Queen which was a lot slower than whatever the first one I did was. I thought I wasn't doing so well when--Surprise, surprise!--I actually got an A! Mom and Edison had been going on about how well I was doing the whole time, apparently. I was too busy concentrating on my feet and the screen to hear them. I played a few more times (though I never got an A again. Mostly Bs and one C.) and it was a lot of fun. So, if you see one of these and have never played before, I suggest you do so.
TOMORROW I'M GOING TO TAL'S! W00T!

Jesu, Joy of Man's Desiring

This morning Mom took me to yet another interesting thing to be involved in. A homeschooled choir. Apparently the practices started two weeks ago, but Mom forgot about them. I'm a soprano. Originally I was going to be alto, but
a) the soprano part wasn't really high, and I thought it was going to be,
b) there were only four (I think) other sopranos, and they needed another.
One thing I was surprised at was the many boys. This might have something to do with the fact that there was actually a boy's part in this choir, whereas in my choir there isn't.
I was kind of feeling really shy. I also felt bad because I didn't want to seem like a snot. But come on, what are you supposed to do when everyone else already knows each other and is talking and cracking jokes and you don't know anyone? Not only that, I'm an introvert. At least mostly. Around people I actually know I'm as outgoing as can be. It's just that big kids scare the heck out of me. Teens (like myself) intimidate me to no end. I'm not sure why. They aren't mean, probably. I just always feel like they're going to make fun of me behind my back.
The other kids were pretty welcoming, I just don't usually fit in too well. Even when I was in the play I never really made friends with anyone except a few of the younger kids. In choir I still only have a few people I actually talk to on a regular basis. Mostly Ash and Lena.
I went to IGA to eat with Mom. In case I forgot to tell you--I think I did--I'm done being a vegitarian. Three months was enough. I was only really doing it to see if I could, anyway.
We watched The Producers. If Gene Wilder wasn't so much older than me, I'd marry him. Not that I have a crush on him. I just think he's awsome. If you haven't seen The Producers yet, watch is fo' shizzle.

Mr. Dell

He's our art teacher. He's really nice. Too bad I really don't want to be in the art class. I have about this much intrest in drawing. This much being none. Seriously, today I drew something that looked NOTHING like it was supposed to, and he said it was the best thing I'd done so far. That's depressing. I wish there was someone my age doing the class, too. I think one of the girls is 13 or something, but I don't know her at all. I feel kind of left out. I really really really wish Kat were doing the class with me. It would help if I could show someone my art who would be able to just let me say how much it stinks without lying to me.
Other than that, today has been pretty good. We got all the stuff on the list done before the people even actually came! WOW. That rarely happens. I did a ton of stuff to help.
Mom and Dad got new cell pu-hone-ees. Talk about wicked sweet. They have the coolest ringtones. Of course, you have to buy them to use them, but you can also just preview them and listen. They're really cool. There were a couple of Hoobastank ones, which thrilled me. No Train so far, but there probably will be. There'd better be.

Of my many faults...

...jealousy is not one of them, I am proud to say. Usually. But this time... I don't know. I just finished reading my mother's blog, and now I think I'm feeling the beginnings of jealousy forming. Not only towards my mother, however. This is a rather wide jealousy.
You see, she just posted about how she was embracing writer-hood and how great it is (kind of, I'm not nearly as good at essays and profundity as she is) and I'm kind of feeling useless. It seems to me that everyone I know has some "skill" or calling or spiritual gift and even if they don't know what they're doing, they
a) Know that they are going to do something world-changing, and
b) Have the skills to do almost anything they end up wanting to do.
c) Or they're rich. Okay. I don't know any rich people personally, but if I did, that would be an option.
Sure, my friends have problems (who doesn't?) and I'm not saying that I want to be them, or that they shouldn't have all this ability. I'm just thinking...
*little tiny childish voice* I just kind of want a piece of that.
I have neither direction for my life nor skills. I know what you're thinking. "She's one of those people who doesn't even know how good she has it. She's probably a model and the next Einstein/Julia Roberts/Susan B. Anthony/Jane Goodall." Actually, no. I'm totally serious here. I really am not talented at anything. I'm no dog, looks wise, and I'm not stupid, either. I'm just kind of here. In fact, if there were one word I would use to decribe myself, it would probably be nondescript. I'm average in every way possible. Not my lifestyle, obviously. How many 15 year olds have lived in a two room cabin with an outhouse for around two years? And how many are homeschooled? I'm pretty exeptional in that respect. Unfortunately, my lifestyle has very little to do with me. It has mostly to do with my parents. I can't really do anything by myself.
Just in case you are a person who does have a purpose in life, I have to tell you how much I envy you, since my purpose seems to have gotten lost in the shuffle of futures. Probably through some fault of my own. I can just imagine... *thought bubby, hazy frame*
Angel: All people about to be born, form a line to my right. *taps my shoulder* Excuse me, ma'am. Have you filled out the nessasary paperwork?
Me: *shuffles around* No, not exactly. I kind of lost it. But here's a picture I drew of the family I want. *hands picture*
Angel: *squints* Is that a dog right there? *points*
Me: *looks at paper* No, that's a house. Don't worry about it, it's a common mistake in my artwork.
Angel: *taps foot impatiently* Well, I'll give you a few minutes to fill this out. Hurry with it, though. You're going to be overdue.
Me: Okay. *takes paper and begins to fill out* Hmm. This will take way to long. I'll just circle random choices. It won't hurt anything much.
Drifting back into reality... That would explain a lot. Including my allergy to some types of metal. Severe allergy. As in, touches my skin for a few hours, I break out.
If you have a skill, cherish it. You're better off than I am.

Fun and Frustration

Creative writing today was DA BOMB. We ran an hour late, but we had a ton of stuff to talk about. Then we went to Wal*Mart and on our way out saw Deb (the teacher) and talked to her for another 10 minutes. She's really cool. Rose, an Amish woman that goes to Creative Writing class too, complimented me on my outfit (pink hat, choir Italy tour t-shirt, and sweats). This was totally shocking to me because:
a) I don't think I look very good in hats, I just think they're cool
b) I always feel like a slob wearing sweatpants because they're so comfy
c) My choir shirt is just plain white with a brightly colored little picture in the center
d) I kind of just slapped my clothes on this morning.
I love CW classes. I look forward to them all week long. I don't know what I'll do when they're over. Deb is my muse.

Have you ever had a friend that you love dearly, but drives you insane at times? Actually, to be fair, this time it isn't her fault. He mom and dad both told Mom (and I was in the room one of the times she was on the phone and heard her ask) that Kat's birthday was off. Then tonight she called three times (while we were in class, and Mom pushed ignore the first two times) to ask if I was still coming tomorrow. She wants me to stay from Wednesday at 5 to Saturday night. Am I wrong in thinking that is a honking long time to spend away from home?
Am I also wrong in thinking that when someone tells you that they're busy, but doesn't specify what they're doing, it's impolite to ask exactly why they can't do what you want? I don't do that. If I do, please tell me right now, because I'd hate to annoy someone like I'm being annoyed. Not only that, she wanted me to SKIP CHOIR!!!! (you know I'm upset when I use more than two exclamation points. Let two at all) so I could spend the night! SKIP CHOIR! Actually, her mom asked, then Kat tried to pressure me into doing so. She knows that Saturday morning rehersals are probably the most important! She knows how Mrs. Jay hates people skipping choir, even for a good reason! She knows that the only make-up rehersals are on Sundays, which I can't do. She knows that if I miss too many rehersals (read: two) without making them up I can't sing at the next concert! The family seems to think that I don't have a life other than them. Honestly, I do want to spend time with my family, I do have chores and responsibilities at home, I do have things I have to do for other people, and I do have a busy schedule. Kat already practically told me I should quit choir back when she decided we should be a band. I haven't heard anything about that for at least a month. Gah.

Ugh

I feel really fat. We just ate at Olive Garden. And don't forget, you guys, it wasn't Mom's birthday. It wasn't even near Mom's birthday. We just gave her stuff, and she isn't even a year older, or anything. I gave her an add a charm bracelet. Monet gave her chocolate, Sweetheart gave her circus peanuts, and they added the rest of their money and got her earrings.
One of Mom's friends (who gave us some chickens) reportedly told Edison to tell me not to get a Chinese boyfriend unless his father has a servant, otherwise the boy is poor. He said not to flirt with any Chinese boys. That really wasn't going to make a difference to me; I can't even flirt with American boys. Any even partial flirting ends in disaster. Even talking to a boy usually ends in disaster. I generally eschew them altogether unless I know them pretty well (eg. Tal, Edison, Ash's brothers and cousins) or they're really little. When they're little I don't flirt with them. That'd be kind of weird. Little kids don't like me all too well, either. I think maybe I'm a monster. Grendel's mom, or whatever. She didn't have a name. I do have a name, though. Do monsters all have to have names, or not? I've never met one. Except Edison (who's reading over my shoulder even though he knows I hate that). Edison--in the words of the immortal Strong Bad--has an ugly and stupid butt.
I think that's pretty much it. So, bye for now.
P.S. You should read Beowulf. It's wicked sweet.

The two things...

Of which I am mortally afraid are as follows, and I quote: Football players and Drunks. Just my luck to sit one table away from an incredibly drunk man. Note to people reading this: Don't get drunk. You act really stupid and people are afraid of you.
Better than that is that today we went to a living history thing. I would love to do that. There were some people we knew there, and Baby played with some wooden swords. Sweetheart made a doll out of rags. I walked around looking at stuff. Mom and I tried to tell Edison that girls think guys who know how to dance and get involved with stuff like living history are hot. He didn't believe us. His loss.
I've noticed that a lot of stuff macho guys look down their overly square noses (okay, I'm just making the nose part up), stuff like ballet, dancing, educational stuff, writing, ETC, are exactly the things that girl's think are HAWT.
Too bad the dance was cancelled tonight. There weren't enough people. Mom and Dad wouldn't go to the coffee house despite my strenuous and convincing arguments for it. I almost had them, but our house was too close.

Unless I'm wrong...

And I'm never wrong, today is Emmo's birthday!

Nananananana-nanana! Today's your birthday!
Nananananana-nanana! Happy birthday to ya!

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, EMMO!

I hope I didn't get the day wrong. Anyway, Emmo gets Snape Grease cake. With Dumby and Voldie inside. But not Ron. Or the twins. Or Oliver Wood.

; ; ;
[ ]
*****

Does that look like a cake to you?

Yogurt?

Yesterday my friend Bean from Wisconsin spent the night. We had so much fun; we watched Napoleon Dynamite with commentary (OH MY GOSH! I have a friend who likes commentary, now. Other than Tal, of course.) then we watched Peter Pan. Jeremy Sumpter is hot. That's all there is to it. We talked about... We didn't really talk about any one thing, actually. We kept laughing at nothing ("Bean, do YOU want to die?") and telling stories. She went to creative writing class with me, and now we're going to write a story together, via e-mail. Now that I think of it, I do that a lot. I did it with Kat, and am sort of doing it with Tal, although at this point, he's working on it more than I am. I've just been really busy lately! I guess I could work on writing instead of reading, but then where would I learn to write by example?
Art class was okay. Mr. Dell is really nice. Today I was just watching Bean and him --Does it matter what order you list them?-- talking, and he looked over at me and said "You have a really nice smile. I love your smile." I was totally taken aback. I hate to smile; I hardly ever do it on purpose. I try not to, actually. Makes it really hard when people want to take pictures of me. I usually end up making a silly face, then at least I'm looking weird on purpose.
The bad thing about art is that I'm probably the worst I know of. I practiced for more than 15 minutes a day like Mr. Dell said, and I'm still worse than even the young kids in the class. It's really embarrassing. I wish we didn't have to show anyone our pictures. If I have to draw, I don't want other people to see how awful I am at it.
I was going to go to Kat's today and spend the night, but they dropped out of art class (they didn't go to the first one, either) and they were supposed to pick me up then. Also, her birthday party is cancelled, apparently. Which really stinks. It was cancelled last year, too.

If you don't know me by now...

You will never never never know me, ooh.
That's pretty much true, since I post tons of stuff here that I mostly forget to mention when I talk to my friends. Ya'll should feel privleged. Or maybe bored.
John Tesh says you shouldn't name your kid Rumour, Apple or Pixie. I have to say that I agree with him. Well, maybe Pixie is kind of cool. But Rumour and Apple? By the way, all you people who's last name is Noel? Don't name your kid Holly. It's WAY done. And no Mary Christmas either. Your child will probably not be amused. Tuesday, however, is a pretty cool name in my opinion.
I think my name (which I will not divulge at this time) is pretty uncharacteristic for me. But whatever. It would be awesome if my name were something like Arabella, or maybe Tony. Something people won't forget. Or think is something else. But then I think I would be a different person, a little bit. I've got a kind of run-of-the-mill name, and I'm a run-of-the-mill kind of person. Who looks like a lot of people, according to just about everyone I meet. Just about everyone says to me "You remind me of my friend/cousin/mother/girlfriend/ex-girlfriend/axe murderess." Or "You remind me of a girl that I once knew. I see her fave whenever I, I look at you. You can't imagine all the things she put me through (like the window), which is why I just can't get with you."
Okay, so no one has ever told me that before. The second option, I mean.
It's hard to read manuscripts of music. They aren't very neat. I can't even tell what the heck I'm supposed to sing. That's actually a problem, believe it or not. Magnificat wasn't so bad, since it was just our choir written in, but this new song not only has parts in Chinese, it's also got four parts for each choir (there are three choirs). That's 12 parts in two (so far) languages. Talk about confusing!
I have a new shirt. It says "Crazy doesn't even begin to cover it." It has a monkey.
Well yeah, it's a monkey, but it's not very interesting. Oh! I got it!
STAR WARS MONKEY!

Princess Frogbutt?

Baby is now calling herself Princess Frogbutt. It's my fault, actually. It's cute though, so it doesn't matter. I hope.
Today I went with Mom while she hauled some Amish. Bean and her sister are coming to spend the night on Tuesday. She's visiting from Wisconsin. We went with her to go see The Pacifier a couple of days ago and had a blast. They're coming with me to crative writing class. I still haven't done my project; I have to find my notebook. If I've lost it, I don't know what I'm going to do with myself. GAH!
If you try to force someone into doing something that's good for them, they won't like you. You have to make them want to do the thing without letting them know that you're the one making them want to do a thing. Now that I've gotten that figured out, I just have to figure out how to convince people without knowing they're being convinced. One of the hardest parts of convincing another person of something is that you also have to convince yourself. I'm wonderfully good at convincing myself of things. I'm not so good at influencing other people. Other than Kat, apparently, who I'm all too good at influencing. *eye roll* I can't seem to focus my powers of persuasion on people I actually want to persuade. And of things I actually want to persuade them of. To? With? I don't know.
When I grow up, I'm going to be a director. I think I really have something going for me, there. I just have to get a camera and start making shorts. I just need to practice. Some of the Strange TV on Channel 3 stuff I did with Tal was pretty good. It was mostly Tal's doing, though. I just kind of cem up with a couple of ideas. Hey, I could be the next Stephen Spielburg. Or Garry Marshall. Or Gore Verbinski. Or Jared Hess. Any of those fit, really. I'm going to make good movies, since there are a shortage of those. I'll prolly write the script, too.

Insert sore muscles here

Here's what's fun:
Dancing.
I went to a contra (I think that's how it's spelled) dance today. It was so fun. I was awful at it, but it was still a blast. It would have been better if I had a built-in partner, though; I had to sit out of a few of the dances because I didn't have one. I'm thinking the next time I go to one, I should try to get Kat to come, too. I think she secretly thinks line dancing ETC is for geeks. I am not a geek. Or if so, I'm a cool geek. Anyway, I'm going to tell her I danced with college students all night. It would actually be true. I did. It wasn't to personal or anything, and none of them actually asked to dance with me, but the whole rotating partners thing made it so I danced with them anyway. They prolly weren't too happy about that, considering my nonexistant hand-eye-foot coordination. I was pretty enthusiastic about it, at least.
Other than that, I'm really tired. My last needle broke today, so I can't do my cross stitch. I have to take a shower; I smell like a pig's butt.
Okay, maybe not that bad. But I don't smell like a bed of roses, that's for sure.