Music Review

  Soo, as I'm sitting here, wondering how in the whole wide WORLD I'm supposed to pick one CD to review out of all the wonderful music in the world, I am hit with a stroke of brilliance. Should I write about Ben Folds' Rockin' the Suburbs? Or Brad Paisley's Time Well Wasted? Oh no no no no NO. While these are both absolutely fantastic albums, I've decided on the one to top them all: Flight of the Conchords, Season One Soundtrack. What a masterpiece.

     It opens with the intriguing drum beat of the "french" song "Foux du Fafa", followed immediately by ludicrous french phrases that have nothing to with anything. This entire CD is a rollercoaster of one funny song after another. My personal favorite is "Sally", one of the last songs on the album. What a flash of genius.

 

"You're so beautiful, like a....tree."

"You're so beautiful, you could be a part time model....(but you'd prob'ly still have to keep your normal job."

 

     Brilliant. This is the funniest album of the year. The lyrics of all the songs have the wonderful quality of sounding improvised but never failing to be hilarious. Coupled with the episodes of the show, these songs can have you laughing till it hurts. Brett and Gemaine are two of the funniest humans alive. Their New Zealand accents add to the effect perfectly. This is such a great album, you should definitely check it out.

 

Jay and Nick

     Here's the thing about Jay Gatsby. He seems like a really cool guy. To the general public, he seems secure in himself, rich, confident, and the pretty much the greatest guy ever. Which he sort of is. Ish. The real truth is (and I believe this is true for many men) that he is actually very insecure. We get a real example of this when he sees Daisy again. He gets SO nervous, and when she finally comes he works so hard to show her all his great stuff, to show off his wonderful life. He doesn't think that just himself in the flesh will be enough. I think he is a sensitive guy hidden behind his money.
     Sooo, when he strikes up a friendship with Nick, at first it seems like, "Ohh this is so cool, Nick and Jay are gonna be friends now, what a nice guy". But Nick notices something underneath his understanding style and confidence. He sees him thinking hard about every word he's saying, which is something I'm sure you'd have to do if you were trying to give a false impression to the world. It's really hard to judge someone when you don't know what they're truly like.
     My first impression was that Jay was an awesome guy and that he really wanted to be friends with his next door neighbor. Then, when he asked Nick to invite Daisy over, I thought maybe he was just using Nick to get to her. But also here's the thing. I think maybe originally that was his plan, to just use Nick, but when people are around each other a lot, many times I think they don't really have a choice but to become friends. Either that or to hate each other's guts. In the case of Gatsby and Nick, I think they're going to develop a real friendship, or at least a respect for each other that they have for no one else. There's something special about scheming together, even if it's mostly just one person's plan. Even though Gatsby almost tricked Nick into starting the whole thing, they're in it together now. I think they'll stick together.

A Winter Poem

Cold

So cold

Hungry

So hungry

Driving past, turn up the heat

Frost on my lashes

Warmth fogging up their windows

Solid breath in air

Cold

So cold

Shop windows filled with gifts

Bins filled with gifts too

Rooting to find something special

You can just buy it

I have to find it

The most wonderful time of the year

The coldest time of the year

Warm bed

Cold stone

Warm comforter

Cold wool

Warm bath

Cold snow

Cold

So cold

Don't stare

I know what I look like

Don't hold your breath

I wish I could too

Pine trees in your homes

Pine trees in my homes

This park is my home

Don't tell anyone

Cold

So cold

Thank you

Thank you for your dollar

Your pity dollar

Pity I don't need

Keep driving

Thankful for what you have

What I don't have

Driving past, turn up the heat

Frost on my lashes

Warmth fogging up your windows

Solid breath in the air

And cold

So cold

The Trick to Writing

     The trick to writing? Oy vey, if people knew that, there wouldn't be any bad writers, would there? The trick to writing....that is a very intense question. I would say that the trick to writing is to put meaning into the words. To put feeling and emotion into the words. No one wants to read some dry peace of literature that doesn't mean anything. The more invested the writer is in the work, the better it is for the reader. If the writer is interested in what they are writing, hopefully the reader will be as well.
     It really doesn't matter if you have good technique, or even good spelling or grammar. It helps of course, because then the reader won't be distracted from taking in what they're reading, but if the emotion's there, it should be pretty good.
     Even as I'm writing this I'm deciding to contradict myself. I do that all the time. But the thing is, sometimes you just can't stand the person writing. Someone could be writing something emotionally and be completely invested in it, and someone else could read it and think, Ugh, this person is so annoying. But then again, does that mean it's good writing, because it caused someone to have a reaction? Maybe. I don't know. How are you supposed to answer this question??
     I'm going back to my original plan. If you care about what you're writing about and you put real emotion into it, you will be able to write something decent. Then there are things you can do to make it even better, with grammar and punctuation and phrasing and stuff, but all that really matter are the basics. The important stuff.

I Am Thankful For....MONICA!!

     Monica. What a beautiful name. What a beautiful person. The name Monica comes from a Greek word (how fitting, seeing as I am Greek) meaning solitary. That is so beautiful. Solitary, single, independent. Not that she's single, really (RYAN), but she's her own independent person. She is smart and strong and vivacious, and she manages to wear a stunning smile every single day.
     I am so grateful for that smile. I know I can always count on Monica, no matter what, to make me feel better. Every single day. American Lit being the first class - which is always a bummer, since everyone's feeling like, "Aww man, the last thing I wanna do right now is leave my warm, comfortable bed and go sit in some class reading some boring book about a house *AHEM*" (just kidding Mr. M) - it's sometimes hard to be cheerful and concentrated. Monica always lifts me up. When I see her face I cannot help but smile. She puts me in a better mood just by being there.
     And did I mention she's brilliant? If I don't understand something, or I need help answering a difficult question, she is always more than generous. She always has a great idea in that beautiful head of hers. She sees things in a way that sometimes I just don't see. She is the perfect person to have in an English class. When I sit next to her, I know she will have something intelligent to add to the conversation. Ahhhhh I'm smiling just writing this! I love that girl. I love to listen to her talk, and hear about her life. I love that she can speak Spanish so beautifully and that she has an amazing Panamanian family. She gets to live two worlds, and she shares her stories. She is a wonderful, cultural, talented girl. She can sing and play the guitar. She plays better than I do, and I've been playing twice as long. She's amazing. I learn so much from her every day.
     And her blogs! They're so well written and funny, and creative and smart. Oy vey, I sound like I'm smitten. Which I am :) I'm so glad I know Monica and am in her class. I love talking to her and working with her and laughing with her. I feel like we really have a connection, which is something everyone needs. When we watched the Crucible in class, we were both trying not to cry. We decided we were going to have a Crucible party at her house and eat pizza and cry together at the end. This is the sort of person I love to be with. Someone who is not afraid to be herself and speak her mind, and who has the bloom of love and happiness in her. She adds so much to my life, and I am so, eternally grateful for her.
     I LOVE YOU MONICA, MI AMIGA HERMOSA!!

I am a plow

     The farmer pushes his plow. Push, push. He pushes all day. It's hot outside. He's hot. The sun beats down on his shining head, the sweat trickles down his temple. The day is hot and dry.
     His ears pick up the distinct sound of the woodpecker, pecking away at the skin of the tree across the field. He stops. He listens. He closes his eyes and his mind floats, his entire soul floats. He is that mockingbird. But reality snaps him back. He plows.
     The farmer pushes his plow. He pushes, rows upon rows, he must finish before dusk falls. He has no choice. This is his life. He pushes until he has blisters on his hands. He feels the tender skin, longs for a time when he must plow no more. He closes his eyes and his mind floats, his entire soal floats. He is holding his hands under the cool, clear water. He hears the woodpecker pecking. He opens his eyes. He plows.
     Mid-afternoon, she comes to him. She brings him water to drink and food to eat. He sits with her in the shade of the woodpecker's tree. He leans against her, his rock, his light, his life. He loves her. He wishes he could sit there forever. He does not want to plow. But he plows.
     The farmer pushes his plow. He pushes until his day's work is done. The day's labor is finished, he can go home. But he must push the plow to it's resting place. He cannot leave it out. It is a burden he would rather not care for. But he pushes. He places it in it's bed, it's home, it's barn. It sits in the dark. It waits for morning.
     The farmer pushes his plow. Push, push. He pushes all day. He hates his plow. He depends upon his plow. He loathes his plow. He loathes his plow. He loathes his plow.
     I am a plow. The last wanted. The least preferred. I am the plow, that inconveniences the life around me, yet for some incomprehensible reason, I hold on still. They hold onto me, and I cling to them like a life-line. I do not want to be forgotten in the dark. I want to be reawoken each morning. But no one wants to awake me. Yet they come for me, each morning. They cannot live without me. I am a plow. Don't forget me.

Changes in the Classroom?

     I totally love this class. I love our discussions and our opportunity to chose our own book for independent reading. I love how we get homework that is beneficial to us without causing us to fall over dead with exhaustion and boredom. It's a really awesome credit. Soooo, you should probably give me some extra credit now, Mr. McCarthy..... :) Just kidding.
     But seriously. This class is da bomb. With a "d". One thing I think would be a nice change is if we, um, AHEM AHEM, changed the book we are currently reading, The House of the Seven Gables. It's a...uhh...very....riveting book...with great description and....detail. It's a great book. If you're blind. Just kidding. Sorry, that's not funny. Especially if you're blind....yeeahhh...
     Since I can't think of anything to change in this class, I shall speak of other classes. Or just school in general.  I think we should have current events. Tons of people (including myself) don't know what the heck is going on in the world, and that problem could be remedied if we talked about it in class. I don't think we should get really deep into it, but talking about a piece of news every day or something would be nice.
     I also think we should get less homework (duh, of course). But honestly, I believe half of the homework teachers give us is just busy work that actually decreases our learning capacity. Doing homework takes away time we could be sleeping, and sleeping is ESSENTIAL to learning, and health. Homework is devastating to our health. The end. Of my blog.
     Also I enjoy canoles.

Modern Day Slavery

     This is going to sound so terrible. So don't judge me till I'm done explaining. For my entire life, I've known that slavery is awful. I've known that people were mistreated for years, and what a miracle it was for slaves to be freed. But I've known it like I know the sky is blue. I never actually thought about it. Oh okay, slavery, yeah that sucked, thank God we had Abraham Lincoln, right? I never really, really thought about what it meant. Then, a few weeks ago (I don't remember what brought it up), it hit me. Slavery. People owning people. The idea that ANY human is better than another, enough to feel that they can literally own, like a piece of clothing, someone. To make them do all their work. To scold them. To beat them. It's sick. I know it's absolutely horrible that I've just come to that realization, but that's just how it happened. Maybe because slavery has been taught about at school, sort of as a time period almost, rather than getting into the personal aspect of it.
     I know that slavery is illegal now. I know there aren't slaves in the United States like there were hundreds of year ago, humans that are owned by other humans to do their strenuous work. There's no such thing. But that does not mean there aren't other types of slaves. By definition, a slave is a person who is the property of and wholly subject to another. A bond servant. So no, there aren't slaves like there were years and years ago. But there are still slaves. Slaves to addiction. Slaves to work. Slaves to each other, even still. There are things people do to each other that are too horrible to even imagine. Kidnapping and rape and sex slaves. This all exists, and it is in its own way a form of slavery. Yes, we outlawed slavery. Yes, things are way better than they were. But we still need to watch. We need to watch to make sure these things don't continue to go on in the world. Because it's slavery.

Alaina's Craziness

This blog is called Alaina's Craziness because Mr. McCarthy told me to call it that, just saying.

     The Puritans were a confusing group of people. On the one hand, they were super super strict. They had to do everything right so they wouldn't go to hell; they disapproved of drinking in large quantities (understandable) and even banned the practice of toasting one another; they were the cause of the Salem Witch Trials, which, because of the manner in which people were sometimes accused, seems to me like a good reason for the accuser to go to hell. Celebration in general was banned from 1659 to 1681 in Boston, and they disapproved of Christmas celebrations for a long while, even after celebrations were once again legal. Many people today are under the impression that Puritans were against sexual activity of any kind. On the contrary, it was perhaps one of the most important parts of their society. When a man and woman wanted to get married, they needed to go through a series of steps, including contracts and announcements and celebrations, at the end of which was sexual intercourse. If the husband and wife could not, for one reason or another, perform this act, the marriage could be damaged. Often the contract between him and his bride would dissolve.

     The Puritans had so many strict rules that it is only natural that eventually that religion would die out. But,  regardless of the fact that the Puritan way is largely dissolved today, they have had an enormous influence on society. They essentially started the first public schools, and founded what we know today as one of the very top schools in the country: Harvard. Located in Cambridge, Massachusetts, Harvard has turned out some of the finest professionals in the country. Cambridge is a town located not far from a very famous village, Salem.

     Several Puritans lived in Salem, Massachusetts. Salem is a very old town, the port of several stories, many of which are not easy to hear. The most famous of these is, of course, The Salem Witch Trials. These trials began in the winter of 1692 when a group of girls became sick and blamed certain members of the community for their illness. Hundreds of people were accused, wrongly of course, of witchcraft, and 19 men and women were hanged. One man was also pressed to death. Another famous feature of salem is the House of the Seven Gables.

     The House of the Seven Gables was built by a Salem sea captain and merchant named John Turner in 1668. Whoa. That was a long time ago. After being in the family for three generations, the house was handed over to Captain Samuel Ingersoll, who died at sea and left the property to his daughter, Susanna. Susanna was a cousin of the man who later became a very influential American writer, Nathaniel Hawthorne. Hawthorne visited the house so many times that it inspired the setting and title of his novel in 1851.

     Obviously, the Puritans did not have  lifestyle they were able to maintain. But, because of their amazing advances in schooling, we now have the ability to attend schools. Because of the House of the Seven Gables, Nathaniel Hawthorne was able to write a beautiful piece of literature that has been read by thousands of children in the schools the Puritans were able to create. Ahh, what a wonderful world.

The Moment I Knew I Was An American

     This is a difficult question to answer. I think I've always known I'm an American. Okay, let me rephrase that though. Of course I've always known I'm an American. I was born in Chicago, I've been raised in the same house all my life. It's more than being born in America though. I went to school at the age of five to learn to read and write and do math. I learned Spanish so well I could almost speak fluently. The very fact that I had the chance to learn it that well should have been a sign to me that I'm American, tough I didn't acknowledge it at the time. I learned from an early age history of my country and the presidents. I don't think there was a real moment when I realized that I am an American. I've just always known.
     Of course, there have been times when that fact is more prominent than others. I've traveled from a young age, France and England at the age of nine, then off to Thailand at age twelve, only to visit Scotland and Greece in eighth grade, and Costa Rica a couple years later. I am so lucky to be able to visit these places, and it makes me realize the privileged world in which I grew up. I've had the chance to travel to several places of the globe, but each time it is clear to me that the culture I know is different from any of these countries. Some speak different languages, eat different foods, have different religions and family values. Everyone is different. That's why I think there was never a real moment of realization to me, that I am an American. Because all cultures are different. Especially with the fact that American culture is so diverse, it's hard to identify myself with a single "American culture".

Us vs. Them...Us and Them

     There are so, so many things that can push a person to do the wrong thing. The key to that question though, is society. Things in society cause people to make the wrong choices every day. Peer pressure, for one thing, is the root of many choices. People are pushed into doing things they don't want to do, even though they know in their heart that it is the wrong decision. But it's hard to make the right choice when everyone else is saying differently.
     Another, slightly less noticeable branch of peer pressure is when you're trying to do something for the good of someone else. I myself have fallen into the trap of always trying to please other people, instead of doing what's best for myself. I'm not saying it's bad to do things for other people, and to try to make them happy, but it can get to be too much. Sometimes, while trying to please someone else, one can be blind to what is really the right thing to do, and choose the wrong thing. This kind of thing can happen easily, and is not always spotted until later on. You can feel really good about "doing the right thing" and making someone else happy, and then realize later on that you missed something.
     Things in society cause people to choose the wrong thing all the time. Whether it be peer pressure, the need to please others, advertisement, or just a subtle "social norm", people make the wrong choices. It happens. What can't happen is people beating themselves up over the wrong choices. Once you've made a choice, it's made. If it's not something you can change, don't worry about it. It's not worth it. Treat every mistake like a gift, because it's teaching you a lesson. Society, "them", is always against "us". We need to be strong and individual, or our sense of self will be lost. It's always going to be "Us vs. Them", and the only thing to do is be strong. If you falter, take it in your stride and start again.

John Proctor: Hero or Stooge?

     Mmm, John Proctor. When I hear that name, it makes me think of a real James Dean type guy – strong, handsome, the kind of guy who could fix your roof, and look really good doing it – and he’s got his own opinions and he’s just got the young girls falling at his feet. He sounds like the type of guy all the girls giggle about when he walks past you in the village, glancing over your shoulder after he goes.
     Besides the fact that he just sounds like an attractive guy, you can also tell he’s got a strong head on his shoulders. He knows what he believes in, and he stands up for it. He doesn’t believe in witchcraft, he won’t stand for his wife being accused. He knows what he wants and he sticks to it. He’s very practical, and much more sensible than the rest of the people in the town who have been hoodwinked into believing the stories about witches. I absolutely love it when he says,
     “Why do you never wonder if Parris be innocent, or Abigail? Is the accuser always holy now? Were
     they born this morning as clean as God’s fingers? I’ll tell you what’s walking Salem – vengeance is
     walking Salem.”
I think this is so, so, so so so brilliant. It’s obvious that the people who really need to be accused here are doing all the accusing, and John Proctor seems to be the only one who realizes it.
     He also stands up for the fact that he rarely goes to church, and he has a good reason for it. He says he stays home to worship, which I think is TOTALLY the right way to go. Who wants to go to hours of listening to some preacher talk about how God hates all sinners and everyone’s going to end up in Hell when they could be worshipping God joyously at home? He seems to have a clear idea of who God is, and he sees Him in a much nicer, loving, forgiving way. It is probably part of what makes him so strong.
     Although John Proctor is an amazing, able, strong-willed man most of the time, it seems that he also has his faults. Pretty major faults they are, too. He cheated on his wife with a young woman, Abigail. I don’t know what Elizabeth’s illness is yet, but it seems that this is part of what drove him to Abigail. I don’t know what possessed him to do it, but it’s just wrong. I know what they say, “He’s a guy”, don’t expect anything better from him. But that is no excuse. That’s like a girl going out and spending a million dollars on shoes and then people are saying, “She’s a girl, what did you expect? It’s okay”. No. It’s not okay. The worst part is that, although he’s trying to do the right thing by telling Abigail he doesn’t want her anymore, it seems like he’s doing it because he should, not because he wants to. He’s trying to be perfect, yet nobody’s perfect. I think he needs to figure himself out.

Sinners in the Hands of an Angry God

"The wrath of God is like great waters that are dammed for the present; they increase more and more and rise higher and higher, till an outlet is given...the waters are continually rising and waxing more and more mighty; and there is nothing but the mere pleasure of God that holds the waters back..."

This is a quote from Jonathan Edwards' sermon, Sinners in the Hands of an Angry God. He was a Puritan preacher in America in the 1730s and 40s. The Puritans believed that it was pre-destined that they should go to Heaven. This being the case, they spent their whole lives making sure they would fulfill this destiny. Making sure they could do nothing to screw up this wonderful plan God had for them. They were very, very strict and did nothing really "out of the ordinary".

     This sermon is about how God treats the sinners who end up in Hell. Borrowing from one of my very favorite movies, Bruce Almighty, this sermon pretty much gives the listener an image of God as an angry kid sitting on an anthill with a magnifying glass. It has a certain sadist feel to it. Edwards is saying, Haha all you sinners, God hates you and he's gonna send you to Hell, and I'm going to laugh. His sermon is basically scaring other Puritans into being "perfect" in God's eyes. I'm sure they were all raised thinking, "If I do everything right and never sin, God will love me and I'll go to Heaven." Probably, most Puritans were raised in fear; fear of God, fear of sin, fear of Hell. God does not love you, he is angry.

     I think this sermon is probably one of the most ridiculous things I have ever heard. God is supposed to be this wondrous creator, who gave life to all living things, who watches out for you, who forgives you. He's supposed to love you no matter what. The Puritans were all scared into their own religion. No doubt if anyone ever has second thoughts about it, they were shunned, or maybe even abused, I don't know. Of course, everyone is entitled to their own opinion, but somehow I feel like this religion, and also some other religions, aren't one's own opinion. If you were raised to fear God because he's gonna send you to Hell, you don't have a choice. You have to agree. Otherwise you're damned for eternity, and who wants that? I'm not saying it was just the Puritans who do this - I know several other Christian religions use this tactic,  the "be Christian or go to Hell" technique, and I'm sure it happens in situations every day. It's depressing.

     Besides the fact that I think it's wrong to scare someone in to something like that, it just makes me sad. It makes me sad that these people didn't grow up believing in God's grace and mercy and love. I don't care if you're Christian or Jewish or Buddhist or Atheist - as long as you have something good and beautiful to believe in. Without a rock like that in your life, how can you ever be truly happy? I hope that the Puritans were happy doing what they did. I hope that as they were carrying out God's will and not sinning and being perfect, I hope they were thinking, "I'm so, so happy, because I get to go to Heaven." I hope that whatever they did, there was some joy in it.

There Goes the Neighborhood

     My neighborhood has always been pretty much the best neighborhood ever. It has the feeling of a small town in a big city. You need a cup of sugar? Well, why don’t you just hop on over to Debbie and Pete’s house and borrow one? Want to go eat food from all over the world this week? Walk around just outside the neighborhood and find Chinese, Thai, Greek, German, Mexican and home grown American only a few steps from each other. It’s definitely my idea of a Utopia.
     The people in the neighborhood have pretty much always been the same: Stella, the nicest old Polish lady you could ever meet; Marian, her next door neighbor, always watching at her front window to make sure you don’t step on her lawn; Mrs. Speilvogel, the scariest old woman in the world – she hates it when you step on her lawn, too, but she can be deceivingly nice; Pete, the master of all nature, and his wife Debbie (who makes the most amazing food out of that beautiful nature), and their three kids, who aren’t quite kids anymore; Big Jim, the alcoholic who sits in his car all day and smokes, and his son Jimmy; the Filipino family who seems to have a never ending stream of different people going in and out of the house, one of them being my brother’s best friend, Darwin; my next door neighbors Annie and Alan, with the two little girls of the block who everyone baby-sits, but nobody really wants to, Olivia and Kate. There's Celeste, the six foot high, wide as she is tall, loud woman with her dogs Duffy and Pal, obnoxious and unleashed all the time, and her fellow dog walkers who talk as their dogs frolick in the grass and leaves. Then, of course, there’s me and my family, and my four best friends in the world – Rory Johnson, Anna Tai Malone, Nicky Parker, and Ian Reeves. All right on the same block. We had the perfect thing going on.
     Today, all these people are still here, with just a few changes. Mrs. Speilvogel’s husband was whisked away one night in an ambulance and never came home. Deb and Pete’s two oldest are married, and the oldest has a little girl now, Nicole. Olivia and Kate are too old for real baby-sitters (everyone’s secretly relieved). The five best friends are still here, but we’re not really best friends anymore. The three of us girls are, but we’ve drifted away from the two boys. We’re all still friends, and we sometimes hang out in the summer, but not too much anymore.
     Despite most of the same people being here, some people are gone – moved away, died, gone off to college – and new people take their place. At first it was slow, a new family moving in maybe once a year. But now all of a sudden, it’s like an explosion of babies and little kids. Young couples moved in, some with kids, some without, and within a year there were at least six or seven new little kids running around outside with no clothes on. They’re everywhere.
     Now, don’t get me wrong, I absolutely adore little kids. I want to be a midwife or a pediatrician when I’m older, so don’t think I’m annoyed. I love it. But it’s created this weird barrier between the people of the neighborhood. There’re the older people, the ones who’ve been here for ages, who all stick together. Then there’re the hip young moms who organize “the best block party yet”, while their husbands sit around drinking a couple beers and their kids running around in the sprinklers. It’s like the younger generation is reforming the neighborhood. Besides that, it’s created a sort of barrier between the five of us ‘hood friends. We all have our certain kids that we baby-sit, and no one else really baby-sits them. We’ve all got our own families.
     This may not seem like a big change, but to someone who has lived in the same environment her whole life, it’s different. I’m not even saying it’s bad different (I’m so glad there are new little kids and babies to play with and get to know), but it’s different. Luckily for the new guys, the entire neighborhood is really, really nice. In everyone's eyes, more new people means more love to go around. J

Introductions

     My full name is Alaina Louise Stacey. I guess I'm proud to be a Stacey, but I regret to inform you that my original, straight from the Mediterranean name, was way, way cooler. If my great-grandfather hadn't come from Greece with the desire to be as American as possible, I would be Alaina Louise Stasinopolous. How cool is that? Tres cool.
     I really love country music. I feel like I am the odd man (woman) out here, but it doesn’t bother me too much, because I’ve got a pretty wide range of musical taste. My favorite country artists are Keith Urban, Brad Paisley, Kasey Chambers, and Miranda Lambert, but I also love Iron & Wine, Amos Lee, Counting Crows, Bruce Springsteen, R. Kelly (weird, right?) and I am absolutely head over heels in love with Ben Folds. Check him out; he’s a musical genius. (One kind of embarrassing thing about me is that one time I was writing to my friend that I’m a genius and I wrote “genious”. Hehe woops.) I also write and sing my own music, as well as some of my brothers’ music and my dad’s music. We’re just one big musical family!
     I have three brothers named Jordan, Julian, and Gabriel. We all get along swimmingly; thank the dear lord baby Jesus. My parents met when they were my age, and my dad says he loved her from the moment he saw her. Everyone in my family loves to be together (maybe a bit too much), and we love to vacation. So far we’ve been to Greece, Thailand, France, and England.
     I enjoy reading authors such as J.K. Rowling, Barbara Kingsolver, Harper Lee, J. K. Rowling, George Orwell, and J. K. Rowling. I absolutely love walking outside on beautiful days, and I would have to say my favorite season is fall. Or spring. It changes depending on how cold I’m feeling. But mostly fall. I think. I play the flute and the guitar and attempt the piano when I’m feeling brave. For the past five years I’ve done a triathlon every summer, which is very rewarding and exciting (especially the bagels and medals at the end).
     A few random facts: I want to be a midwife when I grow up, and I’m going to attend a birth any day now (she’s about ready to pop!); one of the greatest inspirations in my life was my grandmother “Tada”, who had a squillion faults but was one of the most beautiful people I ever knew; I love Australia and everything to do with it; I wish I knew more Spanish; and my favorite movie of all time is the Princess Bride – I could watch it every single day and never get tired of it – followed closely by Love Actually and Overboard.
     I’m the kind of person that babbles on and on, so I shall bid this blog adieu. Now I have a few hours of homework to look forward to ☺. Life is beautiful.