tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38876277431326271522024-03-14T00:30:07.978-07:00Chanson De L'oiseauPied Beautyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14434060104630686789noreply@blogger.comBlogger46125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3887627743132627152.post-35807032605630650652008-02-18T14:41:00.000-08:002008-02-18T15:55:33.026-08:00Sacred Romance: The Geography and Wounds of my HeartIt's written that we all have this inner voice...one that tells us our life feels empty, one that longs for adventure and love. That voice is the Lord's voice speaking to us through our hearts, that works within us to draw us closer to him. However, as we grow out, we block out that inner voice, and numb our hearts. As we age, our hearts suffer the slings and arrows of life and we become heartless people, going through life in our routines of work and sleep. <br /><br /> Where in the geography of my heart did I find the magic that coerces me to believe in God? How much I love my Daddy--I have to admit that was incredibly magical for me when I was little. I loved my Mommy too, but I was distinctly closer to my Daddy when I was tiny because he took me to the zoo ever Friday, and he'd dance with me in the evenings when Mommy was at night school. Mommy worked longer hours, and on Saturdays, so I didn't see her as much. I was Daddy's daughter. That's where the magic lies in my heart. It's a place in my memory that I can always go to when I'm sad and it'll bring me to tears with melancholy joy. My first word was happy, and I said it while playing with building blocks with my Daddy on a Saturday night. My first sentence was "I love you" and I said it while I was in one of those little backpacks for toddlers when we were riding the Ingo bike my uncle made. I just whispered it softly in his ear. I remember holding his big, calloused index finger while we walked around the neighborhood, stopping to smell every single flower I saw. I didn't need to be told or explained what love is. I just knew, and I knew I loved my Daddy. He was my favorite person in the world. I wanted to marry him. LOL. I remember saying that to my nanny. Of course I didn't know what marriage meant (that had to be explained to me). Magic lay in feeling loved, accepted, valued and approved of by my family. I felt like we were happy, and I dreamed of my own happily ever after. I thought things would never change, that my family would always love each other. Of course back then I had no idea that divorce existed. My uncle Peter would come visit with my cousins, and he'd bring his crazy bikes, and I thought that was soooo amazing. I remember one of my happiest days as a child happened when I was 8 and we all went to the beach for the day. We played in the waves and collected moonstones at Will Rogers. Those events filled my heart with magical happiness. I had what hearts long for: intimacy and adventure. <br /><br /> Then came the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune. Rejection, gossip, pain. When I entered school I faced conflicting priorities: if I did well in school I could be my parent's pride and joy, but my classmates would treat me like an outcast for being a smartypants and a goody goody, OR if I placed acceptance of my peers above my parents, I could get into trouble and<br />do badly on purpose so people would like me, but have my parents be very frustrated with me.<br /> I chose the former, and as a result grew up into a bit of a clingy loner, trying as hard as possible to keep the friends I make.<br /><br /> More slings and arrows: my Dad and his brother stopped talking to one another and I stopped seeing my cousins. One of my aunts basically cut herself off from the family, and stopped caring about me. Boys came into the picture, and none of them seemed to like me. I was too unattractive, skinny, super-smart, weird, dorky, nerdy. Finally I found love...but that inevitably ended, as I we were only 14 and it wasn't really love (it sure felt like it though). Then I fell in love again, with a statuesque young man, with a heart of gold. We were good friends, but he broke my heart when i found out that while I was in love with him, he was deeply in love with another girl. I couldn't do a thing about it except cry. It seemed to be the biggest arrow in my heart to date. Never before had I felt love so intense for somebody, yet this love ended, and it never was quite mutual. I woke up everyday, and faced the idea that love was a commodity like sex or anything, I could love anybody because clearly, if this intense love can just be thrown away and disregarded, it can't be worth much. My heart died. Romance and magic were replaced by lust, and ambition. I filled my time and thoughts with the goals of getting into the most prestigious universities and theater programs around he country.Pied Beautyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14434060104630686789noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3887627743132627152.post-80086308776588828842008-02-11T14:16:00.000-08:002008-02-11T14:30:27.188-08:00AuditionsMe oh my. Auditions are finally over, and I say, "THANK GOD!!!"<br /><br />I didn't do as well at CMU as I wish I had. I woke up with no voice this morning, and gradually it came back just long enough for me to do my audition, and then it went away. I was warming up in the waiting room, and the girls who were listening outside were green with envy at my ability to both do classical and belt Defying Gravity. According to my mom, they were saying "Oh my gosh listen to that girl she's gonna use up her voice for the audition." Honestly, what do they know? Voice isn't like water. You can't use it up if you know how to use it RIGHT. End of story. I have been taught by not one, but TWO teachers, the correct ways of using the voice, so I know how to belt correctly. I had to do the defying gravity to warm up my belt voice for the audition. THEY were not warming up their voices. I'm so lucky I warmed up my belt too, since I was doing Gimme Gimme. If I hadn't warmed up, I might have cracked. <br /><br />Dance was a disaster for me. I just felt really insecure, and I know I wasn't all vibrant and smiley. I was nervous, and very concentrated on doing it right.<br /><br />The acting part went best. It went smoothly, and the guy liked my monologue. He said it was cute and quirky. <br /><br />Honestly I think if I get into CMU it will be in the Acting part of it, not the singing. But that's okay. CMU is CMU, and I hear you can always reaudition for the musical theatre if you do make it into the acting part. =) <br /><br />outside of that, I had a lot of fun. I made some friends. One straight guy who was quite the flirt, named Ben, one gay guy named Charles Peoples, and a girl, and I forgot her name! AHHH!! Ooops. But she was nice. =) I feel bad though...ben is gonna see on my facebook that I'm in a relationship and be like oh poo. lol<br /> Oh well!Pied Beautyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14434060104630686789noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3887627743132627152.post-88799849758819172402008-02-06T18:14:00.000-08:002008-02-06T18:30:11.958-08:00Stage NamesCatherine + Composer= My stage name.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">French Names</span><br />Catherine Massenet<br />Catherine Gounod<br />Catherine Bizet<br />Catherine Godard<br />Catherine Debussy<br />Catherine Ibert<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Italian Names</span><br />Catherine Cavalieri<br />Catherine Monteverdi<br />Catherine Allegri<br />Catherine Lully<br />Catherine Scarlatti<br />Catherine Alberti<br />Catherine Bon<br />Catherine Viotti<br />Catherine Cherubini<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">English Names</span><br />Catherine Ellis<br />Catherine Purcell<br />Catherine Balfe<br />Catherine Davey<br />Catherine O'Riada<br />Catherine Trench<br />Catherine Field<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Other Names</span><br />Catherine Granados<br />Catherine Harper<br />Catherine Opperman<br /><br /><br /><br />Decisions, decisions...Pied Beautyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14434060104630686789noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3887627743132627152.post-50305892508309394622008-02-03T13:06:00.000-08:002008-02-03T13:08:54.831-08:00God is goodHe puts us in the right place at the right time. Always. I never thought of it that way.<br /><br />If you just look at life through that lens, life feels a lot better. You can relax and do your thing, and stop worrying. I don't need to worry anymore. Whatever happens to me happens because it's supposed to happen that way. I'm always in the right place at the right time.Pied Beautyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14434060104630686789noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3887627743132627152.post-59950766480524615712008-01-31T22:58:00.000-08:002008-01-31T23:06:27.340-08:00HOLD IT....!Two emails. I received them by mistake. Wow. <br /><br />I'm so glad I didn't set my hopes on anything at all. <br /><br />It's kind of ridiculous to dream of someone who'll never do the same for you.<br /><br />Not kind of ridiculous. It's sad and pathetic.<br /><br />I should make an indie film about it. I'd win an Oscar. <br /><br />It would be subtle, funny, tear-jerking, heart wrenching....<br /><br />He's such a ...I don't know the word....douchebag?<br /><br />No. It's not him. It's me. I'm obsessed or something creepy like that. <br /><br />Alls I know is he's my type-ish, but I'm not his.<br /><br /><br />But that's okay with me. I've learned that there are plenty of interesting, philosophical guys out there. Just waiting. And unlike him...these guys will be crazy about ME. That's why in the end, I'm happy I have Evan. Our relationship might not be perfect. No I don't connect with him on those deep, philosophical, heart to heart levels. At least he's honest, and he actually likes me, and he's true. <br /><br />So should I cut off all communication and never look back? <br /><br />I'll think about it.Pied Beautyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14434060104630686789noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3887627743132627152.post-14637493089519057112008-01-29T18:50:00.001-08:002008-01-29T18:55:17.569-08:00What was I thinking?Okay, yeah...so the dust is settling, and I'm beginning to go back to where I was before I was stabbed with that bare bodkin of his (no pun intended). I question him, I question my feelings for him... I'm back at square 1.5 <br /><br />At least I've found out exactly what type of guy I'm into though: Deep guys. The really smart ones who like to philosophize and and can talk about anything. Ones that if you let them talk, can go forever, but who'll also get you involved in the conversation. Guy's with conversational arete, if you will. The downside of this type of guy is that those take a while to grow up. They are free spirits who likely won't settle down until they're like... 30+, possibly even 40+. I hope I'm wrong about that though.Pied Beautyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14434060104630686789noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3887627743132627152.post-28585552233819389812008-01-29T13:27:00.001-08:002008-01-29T13:57:34.211-08:00You can't bring it with youToday I came to the realization that I Mr. Ramon is right. I have been in denial for a while about something. I keep wanting to thing that I am a person who has transcended the world, who has surpassed the superficial and lives and hungers for the spiritual. It ironically took the last person I would expect to tell me this for me to see my own materialism.<br /><br /> As I walked home from school today, I had this strange urge to look behind me--like someone told me to turn around. Zaid. He was running to catch the light, some 100 yards away. I decided to wait for him to catch up, and walked with him. Earlier we had been talking about some deep stuff; knowledge as something that brings us closer to the divine, and the grandeur of the universe. The primary difference between us that was that he saw things by means of getting high on marijuana, while I saw them through Christianity.<br /> "Catherine, see there are two types of people: people who live in the physical world, and people who live in the mental world"<br /> "So which am I?"<br /> "You still live in the physical world."<br /> "How do you know?"<br /> "I just do, based on the way you say things and the words you choose."<br /> "Can you explain it to me?"<br /> "Well, not really. I don't want to insult you or anything."<br /> "I think you're wrong about me. I'm a Pentecostal Christian who speaks in tongues and everything, so if that's not living in the mental/spiritual realm, then I don't know what is."<br /><br /> At that point he had to leave. As I walked the rest of the way home, it hit me.<br /><br />I live for this world. I don't want to, but it's as if I can't help it. All the values of this world have been drilled into me since I left the womb. Success is the best revenge, make lots of money, be goal oriented, get into a good college, money is good, strive to be beautiful, strive to be the best, do what makes you happy. That's been the philosophy I live by,regardless of my belief in God. Yet so many times I have heard that that is not what being a Christian is about. Jesus parables about how we can't take any of what we have with us beyond the grave/into heaven, are littered throughout the New Testament, not to mention the book of Ecclesiastes. <br /><br />My self worth feels like it hinges on my economic success, and whether people like/praise what I do. Most of me feels like that isn't a bad thing. <br /><br />Zaid, Elijah, Pali...that all seem to dream of living the same type of life: roam aimlessly about the country/world, and just see everything you can possibly see. Maybe it has something to to with being a guy. Look at <span style="font-style: italic;">Hamlet. </span>The young guys, Laertes and Hamlet both want to get away, and travel. They want to find themselves. Meanwhile, Ophelia just wants to be loved. The interesting part of the Laertes and Hamlet is that when they come back from their adventures (Laertes from Paris, and Hamlet from being kidnapped by Pirates) both act like men. Laertes is still a dumbass, he actively tries to be a man. Hamlet, unlike Laertes, has truly achieved self awareness/self actualization. Boys need those journeys on their own to become men. Women, in contrast, merely want comfort, security, and love.<br /><br /> I guess I also want adventure though. But I want love most of all, and because of that, making money, getting an education and becoming a complete individual are my biggest priorities. I don't want to have to sacrifice my happiness with a man who I might truly love, simply for my own financial security. I want LOVE. I don't want a sugar daddy. That's why I live of this world. It's very scary to let go. Hopefully, one day, I'll finally be ready.Pied Beautyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14434060104630686789noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3887627743132627152.post-73689079578279021952008-01-28T16:44:00.000-08:002008-01-28T16:49:54.148-08:00Sandy WatersHave you ever kicked the sand at the beach when the water is clear and you can see the bottom? That's what just happened. What are the odds he would pop up again and kick my sand? I can't see the bottom anymore. <br /><br />I hunted for treasure on the sea floor, and found nothing but an empty vastness of sand. Suddenly my vision is cluttered and I feel like there is hope yet to find that buried treasure. I like the hope, but I wonder if as I search in the murky water, that I'll lose it. I fear that as the sand settles again, I'll remember that vast emptiness of settled sand. And that that's how things will stay. <br /><br /><br /><br />I can't lose hope. That gold is out there, somewhere. I just need to dig.Pied Beautyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14434060104630686789noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3887627743132627152.post-55694795814590350812008-01-24T18:36:00.000-08:002008-01-27T17:36:19.180-08:00I miss youConsidering the facts, it's hard to believe I'd miss you.<br />After you hurt me, and left things out, I still can't believe I haven't moved on<br />Yet I have. Our new kisses, filled with two young lover's passion, numbeth my heart with exuberance.<br /><br />How do I still think fondly on you?<br /><br />I distinctly recall sitting with you at the chair as discoursed we of higher forms.<br />We laughed. I've never spoken to a man the same way as did I you.<br />Why didst thou cause me injury?<br /><br />Woe. Drowning in myself, I gasp for a breath of you, and find none.<br />I could search for you. But I shan't, for our love has long been stale.<br />The flavor, once refreshing and warm, now dull, cold.<br /><br />I miss you. Truly I do. But do I want you again?<br /><br />No.<br /><br />I just want someone who'll make me feel the same.Pied Beautyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14434060104630686789noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3887627743132627152.post-55922811991180491832008-01-23T14:28:00.000-08:002008-01-23T15:13:11.235-08:00Identity CrisisSo it seems I find myself writing in this blog only when I feel depressed or troubled. Well, here I am writing, and guess what--I am very confused. <br /><br />Today we watched that sex ed play at school they have every year called "What goes around", and I found it funny. I honestly laughed at the jokes the first (and second time around), but then everyone in my English class said it was stupid, insulting, and that it trivialized the serious matter that is sexual education. When I asked Mr. Ramon what was wrong with me he said that I'm in denial and repression of something. I thought he was joking and laughed, but then he said he was serious. <br /><br />Maybe I take what people say all too seriously, but quite frankly, it bothers me. There is so much I'm trying to figure out about what I want from my life in the future, that I would merely like to be mentally stable enough to figure things out. Yet, I must make all my decisions through the lens of my mental state--whatever that may be. How do I figure out where I am?<br /><br />Perhaps by figuring out what I am not:<br /><br />I do not hear voices in my head aside from my conscience.<br />I do not have multiple personalities.<br />I never hallucinate.<br /><br />Therefore I am not schizophrenic.<br /><br />I remember basically everything that happens (within the limits of any rational being)<br />I don't like to offend people.<br />I do not like confrontation.<br />I don't do violence.<br /><br />Therefore I am harmless?<br /><br /><br />I am not a genius.<br />I am not taller than average.<br />I am not shorter than average.<br />I am not beautiful<br />I am not ugly<br />I am definitely not an atheist.<br />I don't have down syndrome.<br />I am not socially retarded (in the literal sense).<br /><br />Therefore I am of a religious person of average intelligence, height, and appearance.<br /><br />I do not disagree with all Republicans.<br />I do not disagree with all Democrats.<br />I don't think Ron Paul or Fred Thompson have a chance to with the election.<br /><br />Therefore I am a moderate.<br /><br />I am not an athlete.<br />I do not like people who call attention to themselves and offer my no reward (in other words I get nothing from paying attention to them except for a waste of my life)<br />I don't like it when people judge others with no regard for the idea that that other person did what they did thinking that what they did was right.Pied Beautyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14434060104630686789noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3887627743132627152.post-1755853895573591132007-11-06T11:26:00.000-08:002007-11-06T18:54:06.701-08:00American as Apple Flan the UC version<span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);">Ay nako! I'm about as American as Apple Flan Cassava-- a tricultural fusion of desserts that would probably be a coconut apple custard in a pie crust with caramel on top. It combines the American dessert, Apple Pie, Nicaraguan dessert, Flan, and the Filipino dessert, Cassava.</span> <span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);">Like this dessert, I am also a bit of a cultural hybrid. Last Christmas, for example, my family and I danced Salsa and ate a dinner of traditional Nicaraguan and Uruguayan dishes, at my Tia Jannet's house; tia is Spanish for aunt. Then we drove to my Tita Vicki's Christmas party, where we sang Karaoke and played games while snacking on noodles. Tita is the Tagalog word for aunt, although it need not refer to anybody related to one by blood; Tita can refer to a close family friend. The following morning, we went to my Aunt Caroline's house where we quietly ate Grandma Wagner's Apple Pie and opened our gifts. </span><span style="color: rgb(51, 204, 0);">Growing up half Nicaraguan, half German-American, and immersed in the Filipino culture of my mother's closest friends, I have developed a thorough awareness of human nature that allows me be an excellent communicator, and an understanding friend. </span><br /> <span style="color: rgb(0, 204, 204);">A common exclamatory expression in Tagalog, "Ay Nako!" is the equivalent "My gosh!". </span> <span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);">When I first heard the phrase used, confusion struck me;</span> <span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 0);">In Spanish, "nako" refers to a hick, so hearing the word in a different context seemed strange. Such oddities of language, do not phase me because I'm used to them. </span><span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);">However, for my parents, differences in the meanings of words have always been a source of turmoil. I remember one incident in particular, when my dad, who is German-American, called my mom stupid, and told her to shut up because she was rambling about something. He did not use the words with a derogatory tone, but, upset, my mother shouted at him, deeply offended. He yelled back that she was getting angry over nothing, while my sister and I hid in my room, frightened, so we would not have to hear our parents fighting. </span> <span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 51);">Looking back, I see that what caused disagreements like this one was not my mother's sensitivity. Rather, the cultural difference in the meaning of my father's words triggered their</span> <span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 102);">argument. The word stupid, in Spanish, is considered extremely derogatory and unkind, but in</span> <span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 0);">English </span><span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 51);">it is u</span><span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 0);"><span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 51);"><span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 51);"><span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 0);">sed ve</span>ry lib</span>erally to describe an action that makes no sense. Likewise, the phrase "Shut up" is d</span>erogatory in Spanish, but we use it as a inconsequential retort. Because I am aware of these particularities, I frequently act as an interpreter for my parents. Also, I know the importance of word choice when it comes to addressing people of different backgrounds, which makes me a precise, and sensitive communicator.</span><br /> <span style="color: rgb(51, 153, 153);"> Along with my knowledge of cultural values through language, my bi-culturality has also given me a sense of class awareness. Because Nicaraguan immigrants compose half my family, I am very familiar with the odd jobs immigrants must take, and the difficulties Hispanic people face. </span> <span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 0);">When I told my parents I wanted to take voice lessons, they told me that if I wanted a decent teacher, my mother would have to clean a few houses every week to pay for the lessons. Since the money went towards me, I decided to help my mom with housekeeping whenever possible. By helping clean houses with my mother, I learned that the people we see as insignificant, and often look down upon in society, are very important. <span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 0);">If a city's schoolteacher's disappeared for a month the city would be just fine. However, if the maintenance workers disappeared for a month, the city would be paralyzed. Although these jobs lack prestige, they are the stomach or neck of society. Also, on my Hispanic side, there are many young people with what you might call stereotypical dilemmas among Hispanic Americans. <span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);">Two of my cousins are teen mothers, one cousin is the victim of domestic violence, another has substance abuse problems, and no one on that side of my family has gone to college . My experience caring for and encouraging people normally looked down upon makes me a compassionate person. <span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 0);">Rather than judge people who live in these situations, I sympathize with them, and give them words of encouragement to overcome these hurdles.<br /> Growing up a blend of cultures, I have become an understanding person and a cautious communicator. Exposure to these cultures has highlighted the similarities, rather than the differences among ethnic groups; human nature. I am not limited to merely knowing what makes Hispanic people tick, or what appeals to white America. Instead, I know what these groups have in common; the desire to love, to be loved, to laugh, and to be happy. <br /></span></span></span></span>Pied Beautyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14434060104630686789noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3887627743132627152.post-41025679373725128492007-10-08T15:10:00.000-07:002007-10-08T16:03:32.741-07:00It's been a whileToday, at school, there was an assembly about kindness...about how one act of kindness could start a chain reaction. A message from beyond Rachel Joy Scott's grave. She was the first to die at Columbine. You'd think being kind would go without saying; the fact that it doesn't, speaks volumes.<br /><br /> I tried doing an extra act of kindness today. There was this lonely guy in the hallway a lunch, sitting alone, so I grabbed a friend and we went and talked to him. His name is Kevin, and he's in 11th grade. I couldn't tell if he was particularly affected by our gesture, he seemed more like the the type of person who enjoys being introspective. Still, I'm glad I gave making conversation a shot. Although, I do believe that if someone is sitting alone at Granada, its usually by choice, and if its not...there is probably a reason no one is his friend. Those types of thoughts are just too negative for me. I'd rather just go out of my way to be a little extra nice...even if it is redundant or silly. <br /><br /> Whenever my A.P. Government teacher stands over my shoulder, I can't think. It's very disconcerting, he probably does it on purpose because whenever he stands over me I get very awkward, my thoughts get jumbled up, I say stupid things, my foot twitches, the hair on the back of my neck stands up and I begin to feel like I'm overheating. It's not a sexual "hotness", its a nervous...wow-this-room-is-getting-kind-of-warm-isn't-it type fever. Why this happens is absolutely unknown to me. Usually, I have no sense of personal space; there must be something weird about him.<br /><br /> I haven't been able to stop thinking about ******* today. I have this feeling about him. My intuition indicates that he will play a defining role in my life. It's possible he's just a very influential friend. But, that defining role could very well be marriage, and when I consider that idea, my position remains ambiguous. I like not knowing, however. He's the best guy I've met, and if my future holds him, I'd be happy. I'm not even sure I could ask for a more virtuous man. Yet, I am aware of the low probability of this coming true, and it does not bother me at all. I feel strangely excited to meet the many potentials in college and beyond. Knowing what's out there will help me be happy with my decisions later, whatever they may be.<br /><br /> I was relieved to hear last night of some sort of girls problems in his life. I thought I would be jealous, but oddly enough, I'm not. <br /><br /> I have a dream last night. I was doing a kind of team assignment; a scavenger hunt, and we had to dress up like fruits for a presentation at a bank or a museum. I left my fruit costume in a locker at a building called Harvard. After a journey of many miles, across beaches and forests, I got to the museum where my team and I were meeting up, and remembered my costume; I forgot it at Harvard. I, then, had to make my way all the way back to Harvard, but I made a wrong turn and found myself in Africa. Strangely, the floor and dirt in Africa closely resembled giant relief type paintings of native tribal artwork. It recalled the dioramas in the Natural History Museum downtown, where I used to go on a regular basis as a child. <br /><br /> I have no clue what it means. I have a hunch the scavenger hunt symbolizes the journey of life, or the college application process, but after that I'm lost. If its the college application process, then the fruit costume might represent the guise other students present, which I have completely decided to shun; instead presenting them with a perfect, flawless candidate, I am showing off ME. With all my lovely faults. Yes, I may be flawed, but at least I'm truthful. In trying to attain the same sort of costume, or level playing field as the others, my brain seems to be indicating that I am going the wrong direction, or if not the wrong one, simply a different one. Africa is a wondrous place in my dream, not a desert-jungle disaster area. Rather than representing making a mistake by forgetting my costume, my ending up in Africa represents my journey taking me away from the rest of my group, to a place far more strange and amazing than I could have imagined. <br /><br />That's just a hunch.Pied Beautyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14434060104630686789noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3887627743132627152.post-36997996808946186612007-08-10T18:28:00.000-07:002007-08-12T16:40:57.378-07:00Road Trip with Momma<div>This is my last weekend before senior year officially begins. Summer vacation is now over.<br /><br /> I iwll start off by telling you about my road trip with my mom through the central coast of California. It was beautiful. I navigated for my mom and she drove, and we witnesses some truly beautiful scenery. Who knew California was so beautiful? There is now no doubt in my mind that California is the best state in the nation. First there was the beautiful beaches, with their rolling waves, golden beaches and glistening waters. Since I am not a swimmer, my method of absorbing the beach was to run along the edge of the water. Although the air itself was also cold, the icy splashes of the water as my feet slammed into the wet sand still refreshed my body, the crisp, clean air cleansing my lungs from the valley's pollution. Then my sister and I decided to play "tag" with the waves running as close as we could to the big waves right before they broke and then running from them as fast as our legs could carry us, and we saw a seal or sea lion ( I can't tell the difference) poke its head out of the water and say hello. It didn't actually speak though. I'm just guessing that if it could speak human aka English, it would have said "Hello!" Since they live far from urban areas this one could have even said Good Day! , it definitely would not have said Whats up. Seals (except for Zoo seals) don't know slang terminology (although cool is old enough they might just know that one).<br /><br />We also took a drive further North and took Tour one of Hearst Castle. It was very gaudy. Lots of stuff, and very colorful. It's got two amazing pools. I' would love to live there, although it would be lonely. and I think I' would be scared because it looks like that place you would see on one of those travel channel shows about ghosts.<br /><br />In the hotel we saw the movie Thank You for Smoking, and let me tell you...it made me want to do Aaron Eckheart. i don't normally say that about actors. But let me tell you Aaron Eckheart is an exception. I don't even know why, he's not my usual type at all. I think I will need to search for a pentecostal Christian, Aaron Eckheart look alike who will be looking for a wife when I start looking for a husband, and settle for no less. Just watching him in movies, I start to drool a little bit. No joke. <br /><br />Then we went to Santa Barbara and Santa Maria, where we attended a Pentecostal Church Revival. I thought some of the old white men there were congressmen, but then Scott just informed me that they were church elders or something like that. I spoke in tongues and received the infilling of the Holy Spirit. That was exciting and insane. I want to do it again next year. I also need to call Scott sometime and talk to him. Maybe next weekend.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> </div>Pied Beautyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14434060104630686789noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3887627743132627152.post-22924986652666806592007-07-23T21:06:00.000-07:002007-07-23T21:19:28.853-07:00The Underworld and Food Network StarI'm watching a TV show about underground cities. Very interesting. I love the history channel. Did you know there are entire tunnel systems in Portland specifically built for the purposes of drugging and kidnapping men to sell them to ships where they would be used as labor for cargo ships?z<br /><br /> Amy the mommy won Next Food Network Star. I am now addicted to that TV show. Its the only show I can say I have actually sat and watched 5 hours straight of. I know that makes me sound l ike a couch potato, but its very rarely that I watch TV for so long. Usually I'm multitasking. And I was then too; I was making flashcards for SAT prep. <br /><br /> My summer is boring. Thats why I haven't written much of anything. I miss everyone. I made a bunch of promises to do lunch and hang out or whatever wiht people, but then I haven't followed through with calling those people and actually making plans. I feel awful for doing that, because its not like what I'm doing can't be moved so I can do other stuff. I'm very sorry that I haven't called you! <33<br /><br />*yawn* I'm tired. Not much to write.Pied Beautyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14434060104630686789noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3887627743132627152.post-12318041634323989392007-07-09T20:23:00.000-07:002007-07-09T20:41:47.941-07:00Re: GothI've had a few days to think about this whole "goth" look thing. Honestly, I think the attention one gets by wearing black lipstick, pale makeup and dark clothes is merely "look at that freak" type of attention rather than "wow that girl is really pretty" attention. I mean yeah when I make eye contact the guys smile in a familiar way that reminds me of when guys hit on me, but there is some different element about it all. <br /><br /> As for identifying with the Goth subculture, I feel many intellectuals agree with their basic principles of not conforming and "rejecting" general societal values, but not everyone dresses like that. So there you go. Goth is just a fun way to dress that gets attention and has nothing to do really with being special or an anarchist. Its pretty much just a way t say f*** you to the people who dictate standard fashions and ways to dress. Ironically, lots of current fashions have come from that general punk-rock/goth subculture. So my question is how will the punkers and "goths" dress now that everyone is dressing kind of like them but with brighter colors?Pied Beautyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14434060104630686789noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3887627743132627152.post-76017909890632924702007-07-07T08:53:00.000-07:002007-07-07T09:04:33.423-07:00Goth?!?!Goth may just be the look for me...maybe. I tried it yesterday. Hilarious shit right there. I did it for an audition. Sprayed my hair black, wore all black, with a belt, lots of eyeliner, black lipstick. Then I went to kinkos. OMG. This dude was STARING at me the whole time...well not just staring, but checking me out in a very obvious head turning way. I ignored him at first then I made eye contact and he smiled so I smiled back. Then he kept turning around and smiling at me. Very funny. So either goths get lots of attention normally, OR I'm stunningly beautiful in goth attire.<br /><br />I got called back for the audition. YAY! The second callback I've ever gotten! I hope I get it. It will be so ironic though considering the way I usually am. I am like as far from goth as it gets. Or am I?<br /><br /><span style=";font-family:Verdana;font-size:78%;" ><a href="http://www.ptocheia.net/goth/index.html"><img src="http://www.ptocheia.net/goth/images/I.jpg" border="none" /></a><br /><br /><br />Bet you practice Wicca or Paganism or possibly more liberal Christianity. You probably love Dead Can Dance, anything ethereal, and might be vegetarian. You probably also like to hug people.<br /><p><br /><a href="http://www.ptocheia.net/goth/index.html"> What kind of goth are you?</a><br /><br /> Created by <a href="http://ptocheia.livejournal.com/">ptocheia</a></p></span><br /><br />^^ So true! I'm a Christian, if it were under my power I'd be a vegetarian, ethereal things rock my socks, and I LOVE hugging people. My friend Brendan said that the people who dress like that are just really smart, independent thinkers, which is quite true of me. So I guess I am an in-the-closet-goth. HAAAA lol.Pied Beautyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14434060104630686789noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3887627743132627152.post-52097886894981700432007-07-04T13:59:00.000-07:002007-07-04T14:22:30.445-07:00Middle of SummerI wouuld have titled this Midsummer, but it would have easily been confused with the play.<br /><br />ANyways, here's a fun fact: because I occaisionally post things in other languages such as Portugese, Spanish, and Italian, people who speak those languages stumble on my page and leave comments in those languages. Fun stuff.<br /><br />I've just been relaxing lately, diligently working on my songs and going to the nursing home daily and now working on college applications essays (for the prompts that I can find) and studying for SAT's. I got a 1990 the first time around. Its way too close to 2000 to not do it again and try to break it. I think thats the track runner inside me showing. I just want to PR! I live off of making my personal best better. lol<br /><br />I'm considering re-taking upclassical voice. I lost my voice for about a week after diligently practicing non classical for a while. I must have been doing something wrong for it to go on me like that...or maybe I was just sick. I'm not sure. However, I have been listening to opera a little bit more again lately, and I remembered how much I really do like it. Opera gives me chills. I have a knack for it, so I should sharpen my skills. What I lack mainly is the musicianship to do it really well. That was my only problem for spotlight awards. I was off on my rythm. That's not to say it was some train wreck. It sounded great, but I guess certain parts weren't sung EXACTLY as they were written. My voice itself and tone, relaxation, vibratto and all that fun stuff were great. I really hope I haven't gone backwards by not preacticing my classical voice in a long time. Why can't I do both classical and nonclassical. BOOO. Oh well.Pied Beautyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14434060104630686789noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3887627743132627152.post-26814619682966966832007-06-20T19:48:00.000-07:002007-06-20T21:08:03.006-07:00Everything's getting better...Summer is finally beginning to take a reasonable shape. Although I'm not working on some unrealistic athletic goal, I finally am begining to get some sort of purpose for my days. The volunteer work provides some purpose, but what really get me up in the morning are my AP Government summer assignment and my songs. I have quite a few to learn. In fact its overwhelming. I enjoy the stress, though. I'm happier with stress than I am without it. I found a possible guy to fill the void. Not MY void that is. The void that is Granada's lack of singing males. =) Yay.Pied Beautyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14434060104630686789noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3887627743132627152.post-11376643894817057372007-06-17T16:17:00.000-07:002007-06-17T16:51:01.788-07:00Depressing-nessWhy does the world hate me with passion? Why do people gossip? How is it that I somehow make people dislike me without even trying? I hate that the people who do care about me are leaving to college. The only people who really see me as a nice person and not someone they strongly dislike. I miss my trackies. I really do. Track and cross country were nearly drama-less. No one talked crap about anyone. We all just got along. Now, people are just plain mean. At the first sign of gossip people saying I said things, they RUN AWAY from me practically. If I'm being annoying, they should just tell me, and I'll stop. They shouldn't just block me wihtout informing me that they just don't feel like talking to me and why. I would much preffer being told what I did wrong than to be punished for my "actions". <br /><br />I love track. I miss the old days. I miss the days when it was Richard and Andrea, and Kathleen, Maeve, Myonoway, and David and Jeff and Chris and all them, and Natalie and Krystal, and Marisa and Nina, Molly, Amanda, Sharon, Monica, Victoria and Audrey. I miss those rainy days on the track when we would be doing Coach Green's 1111, 1212, 1313, 1234, 1313, 1212, 1111 workout and we'd be tired out of our minds, and then maybe do an extra 45 second sprint for good measure. Those were the days. We were like a family. <br /><br />In a sense I regret joining speech and drama at Granada. It opened whole new world of jealousy and gossips and crap that I didn't have to deal with before and I lost my bond with the people I care about; the bond that came from being tired as hell and trying your very best to win against yourself. On the track team, we didn't talk trash about eachother. When someone new would come along and they would start saying shit about someone else, we'd say to eachother "Oh look there's somebody who's obviously new and doesn't quite comprehend what this team is about." There was no room for gossip; only friendship. I want to cry, I miss it so much. I look back and I can only think one thing; those were some really great people, and I'm really glad to have known them.<br /><br />Although I love performing, the things I hate are the narcissism, envy and cattiness of everyone who does it. If someone is better than yhou or threatening, its like people have this innate need to judge you. What you say is automatically misconstrued; taken the wrong way just because they can't accept that somebody might be a nice person; a human with feelings, who reacts to external forces and events and has a psyche just like they do.Pied Beautyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14434060104630686789noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3887627743132627152.post-21221620123448618072007-06-15T23:11:00.000-07:002007-06-15T23:28:17.071-07:00Apathy...You know that whole thing I was pumped about doing before...I've gotten lazy. I really don't feel like it anymore. I've been a little bit depressed recently. Practically full on nervous breakdown last night. Cried myself to sleep. No one in particular to blame. It was all just a compilation of emotion. All my unresolved pain from injuries past rising to the surface. It all just leads to my feeling rather hopeless. An old lady at the nursing home I now volunteer at said i wasn't much of a singer. That totally hurt my feelings/ego. After that I just had no motivation to do anything at all. I didn't want to run, didn't want to swim, didn't want to ride my bike anywhere, didn't want to sing, or dance...nothing. I just wanted to cry. Another old woman mentioned how boring life gets after a while. That just added to the feelings of absolute disparity I was experiencing. After that another old woman, by the name of Doris Meyers told me about her old boyfriend, for whom she had moved to California from Missouri. As she mentioned just that, her eyes watered and she almost cried. Oh to be in love. To experience love like that in life is amazingly beautiful. As well as completely depressing. SO thats why I cried myself to sleep last night and did not work out at all.<br /><br /> I can't wait till next year begins so i can just kinda start things over-ish. I'm sure that things will still be semi-crappy, but I just want to get this next year over with and start anew in a place that is not high school, without the drama, without the people who listen to gossip and the people who decide they probably hate you without having a conversation with you to get to know you better; I want to be in a new place with new, more mature people, where I can be more mature and have people know me for being that way.Pied Beautyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14434060104630686789noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3887627743132627152.post-37624686081125943062007-06-15T22:31:00.001-07:002007-06-15T23:07:11.120-07:00SERIOSULY F*** YOU!DON'T TELL ANYBODY ANYTHING. EVER. Not because then you'll miss everybody, but because everybody is an asshole. ESPECIALLY if people can hear you and not know SPECIFICALLY what you are saying.<br /><br />I don't know why or how, but it seems people get together without my knowing and discuss all the conversations I have with them, compile a version of things I say so completely twisted wretched and thats the version they decide to tell whoever I am currently talking to. It's like a medley of absolute personality horror because they choose the worst sounding parts of it all. Gossip is like sausage!<br /><br /><br />GRRRRRRRRRR!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I could just punch somebody right now. FUCKING FREEDOM OF SPEECH!!!! What happened to that??!?!?!?!! NOOOO. I can't have that freedom. People have to take my words and twist them. Take them completely out of context and remove the reasoning I had behind them and then spread it around like fucking butter. Yum. Creamy goodness. LIES. ALL OF THEM.<br /><br />It happened with Andrew and it just happened AGAIN with someone else. Its like a certain SOMEBODY can't bare to see other people fucking happy.<br /><br />Happy birthday world!! Since y'all seem to team up AGAINST ME, I have decided to keep my mouth COMPLETELY SHUT. TADAAAAAA!!!!!!!!!!<br /><br />Prepare for my wrath of fucking silence. It's my turn to listen to YOU and then stab YOU in the ASS. I don't know who that "you" is even, but I have an idea. I can just say that I trust virtually nobody right now. Okay, I do know who I trust. Two people. And NO ONE ELSE can know. Why? Because NO ONE ELSE UNDERSTANDS. Everyone is ready to pounce. Everyone wants to find things wrong with me and put them on display for the world. Everyone is eager to judge me.<br /><br />You want to know the truth? The truth is I KNOW I can be narcissistic. I KNOW that sometimes I'm a little bit obsessive compulsive. I KNOW that I'm a little bit impulsive and say stupid things. Sometimes I say them to make people laugh. Maybe I'm not funny? Maybe I just piss people off and thats why they hate me enough to do what "they" do. I know I am not perfect. Why do people have to go and point that out to other people over and over again? YOU PEOPLE ARE NOT PERFECT EITHER!!!!!!!! NO ONE IS! Maybe no one tells those people that they are not perfect. You know why they don't? Its because SOME PEOPLE have the decency not to point out other people's mistakes and flaws and rub them all over the places and parade them about.<br /><br />And lucky for the world, I don't have it in me to stab people in the back or make sausage out of the worst bits they say to ruin their relationships with other people.Pied Beautyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14434060104630686789noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3887627743132627152.post-43283660630777214472007-06-11T22:19:00.000-07:002007-06-11T22:52:34.408-07:00LovelifeYesterday I was asked "So you're single? How's your lovelife?", and I had no real answer. The only words that came to mind were "ummm...dead-ish?, comatose?, in a catatonic trance-like state? My lovelife is kind of like Terri Shiavo? Sleeping Beauty? Not quite dead yet..." Which is kind of sad. Honestly speaking, however, I think love is about timing. Why? Because you have to meet the right person at the right time. There are lots of wonderful amazing people out there. It's just that you don't always meet them at a time when its convenient. For example, any amazing guy I meet now is pointless because he'll just be going away to college within the next year or so, or I'll be going off to college. Timing. Just another reason why I'm single. I'm the type of girl guys go for for long term relationships, not flings. And it's summer; the time for flings. In college I'll probably do better.<br /><br /> One can't just look at the term "lovelife" in such a narrow sense. On a broader spectrum, my lovelife is amazing. Why? Because I love my life. I love my family, I love my friends, and most of all, I love God. I'm in love with life, and I love that!<br /><br /> I weighed myself today, 119 lbs, 14% body fat. I'm kinda happy because that means I've put on a lot of muscle. I went for a super long run today; 45 minutes! Well, actually 30 minutes with a one minute break to stretch, then 15 more minutes. Unfortunately that was only like 4.1 miles. So I need to pick up my pace. I think next run I'll do some intervals. I did feel stronger though, so the swim/bike/run combo is working. Yay!Pied Beautyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14434060104630686789noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3887627743132627152.post-60893559342402056542007-06-08T23:12:00.000-07:002007-06-08T23:21:33.194-07:00Swim workout #2So today I did my second swim workout. I still felt like crap afterwards, but less so today than Tuesday. I didn't feel exactly like puking afterwards, but I did feel like I had just barfed up my intestines and then put them back in all quivery and jello-like. <br /><br />Tommorow biking again. I will go straight up Wilbur and Rinaldi and back home. I feel the burn already.<br /><br />I miss talking to the boy who I was talking to a week or so ago. Perhaps I will call him. Hopefully he is still interested in me.Pied Beautyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14434060104630686789noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3887627743132627152.post-23813539707329407232007-06-07T22:28:00.000-07:002007-06-07T22:43:10.422-07:00Super Sister!!!Lol, that sounds like a flying nun. I am the protector of my younger friends, warning them of the dangers of ho's and sexually transmitted diseases, and cock-blocking when need be. I feel special.<br /><br />In other news, I weigh 118 lbs, and have 14% body fat. I ate a quesadilla, a peanut butter sandwich, rice, chicken, chocolate cake, salad, more rice, beef, banana and an apple today. I rode my rickety old red bike for 30 minutes. That was fun. When I went uphil, it burnt, but downhill was like a break. I think next time I'll just ride for half an hour or so straight uphill, then ride back down hill another half hour or so on the way home. Seems like it would be a harder work out. I got a little sweaty, but not too much.<br /><br />Tommorow I've got swim practice. I need to find somewhere to swim that is not my back yard pool. Its like 13 meters long, so one lap of 25 is one there and back. That's doable, but once I get to doing longer laps, it will be a pain in the behind. So that is on my to do list. <br /><br />Tommorow I want to take pics of me in a swimsuit. I hope I get the chance to. I need to set bait for those fish to bite...errrm I mean guys...hehehe ;)Pied Beautyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14434060104630686789noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3887627743132627152.post-33421185760724174192007-06-06T22:17:00.000-07:002007-06-06T22:43:41.705-07:00A Grain of SandI'm finally learning, I think, to take things with the importance of a grain of sand. The fun excitement of meeting someone new has faded away now that he is no longer making hte initiative to talk to me. I would like to think he's waiting for me. However when I tried to make conversation the other day, I promptly took the hint that this was not the case when he was rather unnattentive when speaking to me. Now, rather than go into fully nervous breakdown mode, I am simply moving on with my life, setting goals and taking up new hobbies.<br /><br />New hobby? Yes. I have decided I want to do a triathlon. The LA Triathlon to be specific. September 9th 2007. Swim 0.4 miles, Bike 20 miles, Run 3.1 mile. It begins at Venice Beach and ends at the Staples Center. Its a little bit intimidating, but I like setting high goals for myself. I have a 12 week training plan that should help me get int oshape so that I can at least complete it. That is all I want; to complete the race. I think the most difficult part will be the transition from being a runner to swimming. <br /><br /> I did a swim work out yesterday. 8 x 25meter repeats, with 10 seconds rest in between, and 100 meter woarm up + cool down. My work out guide says its to build a base. It was a pretty tough work out for me. I started out splashing all about, but by the end of the work out, I was splashing a lot less. It really tired me out. Afterwards I felt a strange combination of hunger and nausea I have never quite felt before. When I run I get the nausea, but never the hunger. SO it was a new and ironic feeling for me. <br /><br />I woke up with soreness in the back of my left knee, ate two bowls of oatmeal while watching the Daily Show, then watched the sex episode of Tyra, and then went out for a day of fun with Jesse. We saw Knocked Up, which was VERY funny I highly reccomend it, then I ate a hot dog pretzel and an almond pretzel, followed by a chiliburger and fries from Tommie's. I was very full. <br /><br />Why am I eating so much? Since I have decided to take up triathloning, I worry I will with away into a nonexistant twig. Therefore, I have decided to try to gain whatever weight I can when I can because I will burn it off anyway. Hopefully I can maintain a healthy weight somewhere in the realm of 124 lbs. I need to gain some, though, because at the moment I only weigh 115. So there ya go!<br /><br />Night! Oooo I need to catch up on my cycling training tommorow!Pied Beautyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14434060104630686789noreply@blogger.com0