A Single Rose

I've always enjoyed getting flowers, even if it is a rare occassion. Who doesn't enjoy getting a dozen roses? But even more intoxicatingly beautiful is a single red rose. Nothing can haunt one's soul more than a single rose. A single rose is so powerful and strong, it can stand alone in it's beauty. A single rose is really, the most beautiful of all.

I am a single rose.

The problematic thing is...I act like a carnation. Carnations are kind-of the loser flower if you ask me. They're cheap, anyone can get them, and no one really wants one. C'mon, who wants a dozen carnations? They're kinda the reject flower that everyone throws out. And that's kinda how I feel.

I've been single a long time now. I'm tired of being treated like a second-rate carnation. Guys are overlooking me constantly. And if someone tells me one more time, "You're time is coming." Or "It'll happen when you least expect it." I might scream. I've been "least expecting it" for years now. When will someone see this rose for who she is?! I'm tired of being single. I want to share my beauty with someone else. I want to share in someone else's life. I want to be a wife.

So until then, this rose is going to keep acting like a carnation...because that is all I know how to be.

Guaranteed To Make You Smile

Especially for cat owners...

In A Barbie World

**WARNING! **There is a pretty good chance that this post will offend a few dozen people or so. However, I am not going to apologize for this. It's the writer's own personal opinion, of which they are entitled to. It doesn't make it right or wrong, and it doesn't mean it's directed towards anyone in particular. It's just something that has been on the writer's heart lately.

If you are a member of the coffee-shop crowd, this may not be for you. If you are into the "psuedo-indie-emo-lovin'-the-grass-outta-ya" lifestyle, this might not be for you. If you talk the talk, and walk the walk, and punch a few people in the face along the way, this might not be for you. If you get uncomfortable reading this, I might actually may be writing this for you.

I've got a problem. I see a lot of Ken & Barbies waltzing about the streets of my city. Down my street in fact. And maybe it's not just my city, my state, or my neighborhood that Ken & Barbie live in. These Ken & Barbies look like real people, they wear human-like clothing, they have human-like occupations, and they even appear to be friendly (c'mon, who hasn't heard of Barbie's best friend Teresa?). I'm here to say that they are fake. They are not real people...in case you weren't sure of this fact.

I teach high-schoolers. The all-time masters and commanders of imitation. "Kens & Barbies," if you will. They take an image, something they likely weren't created for, and they try to squish themselves into that Barbie's clothing. It annoys the hell out of me to see this happen. But it unfortnuately doesn't stop in high school. It happens after they've gone to college, graduated, and lived life a little bit too.

And have you ever noticed how Barbie finds her Ken? If Ken is dressed as a Hawaiian hula dancer, business woman Barbie dresses as a hula dancer. Does that make her a hula dancer? NO. Lawyer Barbie finds African Safari Ken, and all of a sudden we find Barbie exploring the jungles of the world. Then we have white middle-class working man Ken who finds his perfect Parisian Barbie. Then all of a sudden, bon jour madame! We have Parisian Ken. Does changing one's outfit make one a different person? Does changing your location make you a different person? Why is it that people try changing themselves to fit into other people's molds? It pisses me off. Everyone else is taken, be yourself!

I'm tired of fake people. I'm tired of people trying to fit in.

So this post is a disappointment. I don't think it says what I'm trying to say. But there's not another way I can think of to put this stuff without just trampling over everyone. And while some of you maybe thinking, "Well, I'd trample over everyone despite what they'd think," that's not the way I roll. I don't believe in tearing others down in the pursuit of honesty. Because then it's not honesty, it's judgement, it's self-righteousness, and it's rude, and the worst kind of criticism humans can offer.

I'm not perfect. I don't try to be, just ask my students. They will vouch for my self-awareness of imperfections. But there is one thing that I am pretty damn good at. And that's being me, and no one else. So be yourself. Stop being a Ken or a Barbie. It's the best advice I can give.

Good-bye Santa Claus!

The illustration at left shows the extent of Arctic sea ice (the north pole) on Sept. 16. The one on the right is the extent on the previous record low, set on Sept. 21, 2005.

God is good.

God is good.

Chronic Sense of Exhaustion...

Chronically exhausted. That's how I feel. Something as joyous as going and praising God for 1 1/2 hours just drained the life of me. The worst part is that I must confess, I was so completely and utterly exhausted that I didn't even really enjoy it.

I've entered this monotonous state of being quietly, and unsuspected. And to my dismay, it does not appear to have an end in sight. What ever happened to the light at the end of the tunnel? Mine got tired, and burned out. Is there a cure for this endless tired? It appears not. The cure seems to be my ill; to continue working. The thing that poisions me is the very thing I crave. Why? And when I do find a moment to steal away, it still beckons. Not one time, not two, but four. GRRR! The frustration of these moments are the most unbearable. I just...don't know.

I'm just so ffing tired. I loathe the feeling. I couldn't being to tell you what....or why, or who even. All I know is that I pray to God constantly that it will end very soon.

Brenna Powers

I already miss Brenna.

"The better work men do is always done under stress and at great personal cost."

It's been a while since I've updated. Not a lot has changed, and not a lot has gone on.

I'm still a teacher. But now I teach strings in addition to band and jazz band. I am also at three schools, instead of the simple two I was at last year. However, I'm still getting ganked by the district that refuses to pay people who work over full-time hours full-time pay. Ahh...the glories of being on salary!

These days, I'm looking an awful lot like this--->

Could be the fact that I do the jobs of 7 people in one day, or it could be the fact that I'm ALWAYS running around like a chicken with no head and never taking a few moments to rest...because, let's face it, rest is over-rated.

My brother is going on a year long mission trip starting in December. He needs money, if you wish to donate to him, you should do that. He's got to raise $14,000, and he has about $2,000. If you are interested in what he's doing or anything regarding him, visit his blog.

I'm going to New York in November. I will be singing with the Wichita Symphony Chorus as part of this ginormous choral union under the direction of John Rutter at Carnegie Hall. Come see me sing (if you can!).

The Scream

tur·moil/ˈtɜrmɔɪl/

–noun
1.
a state of great commotion, confusion, or disturbance; tumult; agitation; disquiet: mental turmoil caused by difficult decisions.
2.
Obsolete. harassing labor.

You just wish you could tell somebody and it actually make a difference. You're always the one who smiles and moves forward. Your feelings don't matter. Growing up sucks. It's nothing to look forward to....all that happens is you get to pay your own bills, work non-stop, and your friends get boyfriends/get married move away to other towns and forget you. You're not important enough to be seen once a week, much less to have your calls answered. What makes you think that they could actually care about YOU? No one stops to think about you. Your life is seemingly full. You are the caretaker of four. Lives depend on you. But they would get by. They can and they have gotten by without you. They don't need you, no one does. You are not appreciated. You are not wanted. You are not cared for. No one really cares. The only thing is, you know you're wrong....you just wish you could prove that.

An update!

Okay, so here's an update on me....

The kids did WONDERFUL at contest, and I'm so proud of them. They did so much better than I even thought they could ever do (doesn't sound so confident coming from the teacher, but I can't do 100% of the work, I just get to wave my arms around---they get to make the real music!). They ended up with 2 2s and 1 3 (which was 3 points away from being a 2)! This is the best the concert band has EVER done! The district fine arts director said that I was doing an amazing job and to keep doing what I was doing. He told me that he hadn't heard that band sound like that ever, and that my band was up to par with some of the other schools' symphonic bands. It was quite the encouragement.

Circque du Soleil sucked. It was sorely overrated and not good at all. I was majorly disappointed and would NOT recommend "Delirium" to anybody.

Mom and I went to San Antonio for a few days during spring break...and it was wonderful. Everytime I travel to Texas I fall in love with it again. I will one day live there. That is a state God undoubtedly created for me (and me-like people!). I truly enjoy all time spent in that wonderful place.

I'm not exactly ready to go back to work. But oh well. I get the whole danged summer off, so I can't really complain. OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOH, time is so timely.

Going to the Circus

Tonight I'm really excited because I'm going to see Circque Du Soleil perform. The music is spectacular (we used it for our marching show this past football season) so I'm anxious to see their interpretation of it. Should make for a wonderful time.

Tomorrow I'm really NOT excited because I'll be ringleader of a 3-ring circus of my own. It will be my very first band contest as a band director. Expectations are realllly low (I will be surprised if they get 3s and not 4s) and I'm bound to have goofed up a good 20-30 times tomorrow. I also "get" to help enter grades afterwards while Kim goes on a lunch-date. Yay. Needless to say, I'm really not excited about tomorrow. Tomorrow night I shall collapse.

Anyways, I suppose I should go shove the pizzas in the oven so my family can eat tonight before the show. So, I shall go now. Peace of Christ. Peace...of Christ. Think about what that means and what that would be like.

My favorite things

-My cat playing on my bed in the middle of the night.
-My friend's mom's hugs
-Being up late
-New clothes
-Laughing with friends
-My students
-Being with my students
-High school sporting events
-High school cheers
-the Warren theatre
-driving my car
-spring
-being happy
-knowing I'm where I'm supposed to be
-spending time with my mom
-when my cat talks to me
-my doggy
-rain
-thunderstorms
-texas
-tony bennett
-jazz

Lazy teens, teachers, & musicians

Oddly enough, they're all in the same for me. As a band teacher, I generally get the "good" kids who are motivated and want to learn. They'll jump through hoop after hoop just to play an instrument. It's after they're in the classroom that the problem occurs. They become lazy. And it's annoying. And at what point exactly did kids decide that utter disrespect was okay. I can look a student in the eye and tell them to not talk, and without breaking the gaze, they begin talking to the person next to them. WHY!?! Grrr...don't be retarded. Just do what you're supposed to. It's that easy. EASY! It's easy!!! Who wouldv'e thunk!?!

And another thing, why do I have to go do someone else's job while they eat and email every person on the planet!?! Stup. id.

And finally, not so much that they're lazy, but symphony chorus people are nazis. Especially about German. Especially about Beethoven. Lighten up! It's music. It's supposed to be fun! Don't be fun-suckers you decrepit old creepy slobbering fools.

Really Recent Ramblings

Boring. That's me. So why is it that I am creating yet another unsatisfying empty blog? I don't know. Maybe because I can. And saying I have a blog makes me more interesting. Guess that's why.