I've never had a dream where I'm flying, falling, or in school naked. Though those tend to be the most common dreams, I've never experienced them. My dreams, for some reason, always seem to be some strange scenerio that includes some kind of criminal activity. I had one dream where I managed to lock a robber in the second floor bathroom in my house, only to unluck the door later to find a huge hole in the wall the robber must have jumped out of and escaped from. Another, I was doing homework on a random house's driveway, and happened to have my saxophone case with me. A guy came up to me with a machete and was about to cut my head off, but before he could, I grabbed my sax case and whacked him in the leg with it. See what I mean? My dreams are WEIRD.
Just a couple nights ago, I had my weirdest dream yet. I was in my house, and I had a deal with a person I didn't recognize. I think it was some kind of illegal deal, maybe involving sharing money, but I don't quite remember. But after the person had signed a document involving the deal and turned around, I hit them over the head with a tennis shoe. I must have hit them hard enough to give them blunt force trauma, because they died. I also killed my sister the same way later, but I felt bad about it afterwards in the dream, and still feel bad about it, even as I'm awake. Dreaming about killing a sibling? That's pretty evil. I love my sister, though, so I'm not sure why I even killed her in my dream.
I went to a website that supposedly tells you the meaning of your dreams. I searched "murder" first. The results told me that it signified ending an old habit, but also signifies a depressive period. Wanting to know more, I searched "killing" on the same website. Apparently, killing people in your dreams signifies that you are close to losing your temper and self-control. Of course, my mind is so strange that what dreams mean for other people may not mean the same for me. Either way, I'm a little worried at what made me dream of killing people.
Dreams are wierd things, and I've never been able to control mine. Once, my beeping alarm clock made it into my dream, and another time, a song playing over iTunes made it into my dream (I told someone it was by Coldplay when it was really by Switchfoot), but that's the only connection my dreams have had to the real world. Have you ever had any strange or scary dreams? If so, leave it in the comments. I'm outta here.
Friday, January 21, 2011
Thursday, December 30, 2010
What, Me Worry?
I've been on winter break for the past two weeks, which is why I haven't been posting. I've been loving it, though; I don't have to wake up early, do a bunch of homework, or study for any tests. At least, I didn't. I was given a fair amount of homework to complete over break and I still haven't looked at it yet. Now that break is coming to its end, I've been worrying about the homework and going back to school. Sitting in class all day, doing homework, having to deal with the occasional drama (my friends aren't all that dramatic, thank goodness); it's no wonder every time I think about it a huge load of stress and worry just drops on my shoulders. I'm amazed at how free I felt over break.
I'm also gonna miss having access to a piano at all hours. I got a keyboard for Christmas, and it's nice having a piano of sorts in my room. I've definately been playing more, and due to my current unhealthy obsession to The Beatles, I've been writing a bunch of songs. I'm not gonna have time for all of that once I get back to school.
And, like I mentioned earlier, I'm gonna have to wake up at six in the morning. I'm not looking forward to that, and it doesn't help that most of the people at my bus stop are idiots. I guess school puts more stress than worry on me, but I still do worry. I worry about everything. One time, I purposefully broke a random pencil I found on the ground and worried about it later. I mean, seriously, what's up with that?!
Another thing that sorta goes along with worry is fear. I'm much better with fear, though. In fact, sometimes, when I'm home alone, I turn out the lights and watch Monk, a show about a homicide detective who has OCD and a bunch of phobias. Usually, at the very beginning, they show someone being murdered, and it's pretty creepy most of the time. I can't tell you why, but I like freaking myself out.
Fear and worry are fairly similar, but I tend to think of fear as a higher degree of worry. For example, maybe you're at a convenience store and you have a feeling that it's about to be robbed. You'll worry about it, no doubt. Let's say it does get held up, and the offender has a gun. That worry would turn to fear, right? It's almost like cause and effect, I think. Most of the time worry comes first, depending on what the situation is. And sometimes, stress can come before worry. It's like a chain, I guess. Have you ever noticed a pattern in your moods or feelings? Comment if you come up with something. I'm outta here.
I'm also gonna miss having access to a piano at all hours. I got a keyboard for Christmas, and it's nice having a piano of sorts in my room. I've definately been playing more, and due to my current unhealthy obsession to The Beatles, I've been writing a bunch of songs. I'm not gonna have time for all of that once I get back to school.
And, like I mentioned earlier, I'm gonna have to wake up at six in the morning. I'm not looking forward to that, and it doesn't help that most of the people at my bus stop are idiots. I guess school puts more stress than worry on me, but I still do worry. I worry about everything. One time, I purposefully broke a random pencil I found on the ground and worried about it later. I mean, seriously, what's up with that?!
Another thing that sorta goes along with worry is fear. I'm much better with fear, though. In fact, sometimes, when I'm home alone, I turn out the lights and watch Monk, a show about a homicide detective who has OCD and a bunch of phobias. Usually, at the very beginning, they show someone being murdered, and it's pretty creepy most of the time. I can't tell you why, but I like freaking myself out.
Fear and worry are fairly similar, but I tend to think of fear as a higher degree of worry. For example, maybe you're at a convenience store and you have a feeling that it's about to be robbed. You'll worry about it, no doubt. Let's say it does get held up, and the offender has a gun. That worry would turn to fear, right? It's almost like cause and effect, I think. Most of the time worry comes first, depending on what the situation is. And sometimes, stress can come before worry. It's like a chain, I guess. Have you ever noticed a pattern in your moods or feelings? Comment if you come up with something. I'm outta here.
Sunday, December 19, 2010
Let it Snow
The first five days of the new year have been filled with nice days, getting about as warm as it gets in January. The sidewalks were snow-free, the roads lacking a sheet of ice. Until the sixth, that is. That's right, snow is making yet another appearance in Ohio. And me? Well, I'm thrilled.
I'm not being sarcastic; I love snow. It only comes around for a few months every year, and even then, there's a possibility of a very warm winter and no snow at all. I admire it; the way it takes over, covers everything with a blinding white sheet. Sometimes I'll stare out my window for minutes, just watching the snow drop out of the pale sky. I don't even mind walking in it to the bus stop every morning. It seems to brighten the world.
The beauty I see in snow isn't the only reason I like it, for I'm also a fan of snowboarding, though I'm not very good. There's a small hill behind my house, and it just needs an inch or two covering it to make it perfect for snowboarding. It's nothing fancy, but hey, it's fun.
I'd like to apologize for not posting all that often, I'm just not very easily motivated. I'll try and get back to a post a week again, sorry about the last two posts being a week late and such. And I know this post is short, sorry about that, too... I've just been busy writing songs. Didn't I say I was a music freak? Anyway, tell me what you love or hate about the snow in the comments. I'm outta here.
I'm not being sarcastic; I love snow. It only comes around for a few months every year, and even then, there's a possibility of a very warm winter and no snow at all. I admire it; the way it takes over, covers everything with a blinding white sheet. Sometimes I'll stare out my window for minutes, just watching the snow drop out of the pale sky. I don't even mind walking in it to the bus stop every morning. It seems to brighten the world.
The beauty I see in snow isn't the only reason I like it, for I'm also a fan of snowboarding, though I'm not very good. There's a small hill behind my house, and it just needs an inch or two covering it to make it perfect for snowboarding. It's nothing fancy, but hey, it's fun.
I'd like to apologize for not posting all that often, I'm just not very easily motivated. I'll try and get back to a post a week again, sorry about the last two posts being a week late and such. And I know this post is short, sorry about that, too... I've just been busy writing songs. Didn't I say I was a music freak? Anyway, tell me what you love or hate about the snow in the comments. I'm outta here.
Sunday, December 12, 2010
Two Birds with One Stone
This week has been kinda busy, so I haven't had time to write anything. In fact, I'm just gonna copy and paste my personal narrative I had to write for language arts and share it with you guys. Honestly, not a whole lot of it's true; I have a terrible memory and this happened a few years ago. Anyway, enjoy reading my not-so-personal narrative. I'm outta here.
I carefully planned out my next words in my head, but they dissolved as I opened my mouth and ended up blurting, “Dad, can we get a piano?” I crossed my fingers under the dinner table and hoped he would say yes. I knew, of course, I wasn’t going to get a straight answer right away, in fact, it was foolish for me to ask the question phrased in a way that sounded it could have been answered with yes or no, right then and there. I also knew that I had a shot at getting what I wanted, even if it wasn’t in a few months; my dad had played piano when he was younger.
My dad didn’t answer right away, not even a “maybe”. I fully suspected this, though. He chewed his food thoughtfully and glanced at my mom. She gave him a “we’ll talk about it later” kind of look. At least, I think she did; I viewed her from the side.
After several long seconds of silence, it was my mom who answered, “Well, maybe. Why do you want a piano?”
“I’d like to learn how to play. Claire plays piano, and it seems like fun.” Taking lessons, of course, was my reason for the piano in the first place. It was intriguing to me; eighty-eight keys to play with only ten fingers to play them. I had heard beautiful piano compositions in music class from legendary pianists like Beethoven, Mozart, and Wolfgang, and wanted to take par t in the creative process of music making. Piano seemed like the perfect instrument for it.
“We’ll see. Pianos aren’t cheap, so if we do end up getting one, it could be months before we even find one we like with a reasonable price.”
“I know, Dad. I just think it’d be a cool instrument to play. A lot of other girls my age take lessons.” I was fairly certain that the “everybody else has it” persuasion technique wasn’t going to work with my parents, but since I already had a chance at getting the piano, I threw it in for good measure. Again, my dad took his time chewing his food before answering.
“I wouldn’t mind having a piano, actually. It’d be nice to have one around.” I cheered silently in my head. My dad had a soft side for things he enjoyed; liking the same things as him was a great advantage. I considered him on my side; we just had to convince my mom. I doubted my sister would join my dad and me, but I hoped she remained mutual at the least.
Once dinner was over, I retreated to my room as I did for the next few weeks, until one night, I was informed that my parents decided to invest in getting a piano. This meant another week of waiting, I was sure, but I was excited; we were going to get a piano! I’d learn how to play and make compositions of my own some day. In the next month to come, I spent my weekends looking at piano catalogs and visiting various music stores. My family finally decided on a brown Kawai digital piano. It wasn’t a real piano, but it sounded and looked just like one. The only difference was buttons running along the top to change the voice that sounded from the keys.
My dad and I were the only ones in the car on the way to pick up our requested piano; my mom was taking my sister to skate at the Chiller as usual. I remember the joy that built up inside of me as we loaded the heavy piano into our van with help from a worker at the store it was purchased from. The back seat had been lowered into the floor to make room for the large instrument. I, sitting in the middle section of the van, held on to the piano, even though it most likely wouldn’t have fallen over. We arrived home safely, and the piano was still in great shape. My dad waited for my mom to get home to unload the piano, so I waited by the front door patiently for a half an hour.
My mom finally returned home and helped my dad bring the piano into the living room. It seemed to belong there, in its space by the corner. I sat on the accompanied bench, eagerly wanting to be the first one to play it.
Four years have passed, and I’ve been taking lessons for three. The piano is still my favorite instrument, even though my musical ability has spread to the saxophone and guitar. Compositions by Melinda (I don't want random people stalking me, so I took out my last name) are still waiting to be written, but I’m sure they’ll come soon.
I carefully planned out my next words in my head, but they dissolved as I opened my mouth and ended up blurting, “Dad, can we get a piano?” I crossed my fingers under the dinner table and hoped he would say yes. I knew, of course, I wasn’t going to get a straight answer right away, in fact, it was foolish for me to ask the question phrased in a way that sounded it could have been answered with yes or no, right then and there. I also knew that I had a shot at getting what I wanted, even if it wasn’t in a few months; my dad had played piano when he was younger.
My dad didn’t answer right away, not even a “maybe”. I fully suspected this, though. He chewed his food thoughtfully and glanced at my mom. She gave him a “we’ll talk about it later” kind of look. At least, I think she did; I viewed her from the side.
After several long seconds of silence, it was my mom who answered, “Well, maybe. Why do you want a piano?”
“I’d like to learn how to play. Claire plays piano, and it seems like fun.” Taking lessons, of course, was my reason for the piano in the first place. It was intriguing to me; eighty-eight keys to play with only ten fingers to play them. I had heard beautiful piano compositions in music class from legendary pianists like Beethoven, Mozart, and Wolfgang, and wanted to take par t in the creative process of music making. Piano seemed like the perfect instrument for it.
“We’ll see. Pianos aren’t cheap, so if we do end up getting one, it could be months before we even find one we like with a reasonable price.”
“I know, Dad. I just think it’d be a cool instrument to play. A lot of other girls my age take lessons.” I was fairly certain that the “everybody else has it” persuasion technique wasn’t going to work with my parents, but since I already had a chance at getting the piano, I threw it in for good measure. Again, my dad took his time chewing his food before answering.
“I wouldn’t mind having a piano, actually. It’d be nice to have one around.” I cheered silently in my head. My dad had a soft side for things he enjoyed; liking the same things as him was a great advantage. I considered him on my side; we just had to convince my mom. I doubted my sister would join my dad and me, but I hoped she remained mutual at the least.
Once dinner was over, I retreated to my room as I did for the next few weeks, until one night, I was informed that my parents decided to invest in getting a piano. This meant another week of waiting, I was sure, but I was excited; we were going to get a piano! I’d learn how to play and make compositions of my own some day. In the next month to come, I spent my weekends looking at piano catalogs and visiting various music stores. My family finally decided on a brown Kawai digital piano. It wasn’t a real piano, but it sounded and looked just like one. The only difference was buttons running along the top to change the voice that sounded from the keys.
My dad and I were the only ones in the car on the way to pick up our requested piano; my mom was taking my sister to skate at the Chiller as usual. I remember the joy that built up inside of me as we loaded the heavy piano into our van with help from a worker at the store it was purchased from. The back seat had been lowered into the floor to make room for the large instrument. I, sitting in the middle section of the van, held on to the piano, even though it most likely wouldn’t have fallen over. We arrived home safely, and the piano was still in great shape. My dad waited for my mom to get home to unload the piano, so I waited by the front door patiently for a half an hour.
My mom finally returned home and helped my dad bring the piano into the living room. It seemed to belong there, in its space by the corner. I sat on the accompanied bench, eagerly wanting to be the first one to play it.
Four years have passed, and I’ve been taking lessons for three. The piano is still my favorite instrument, even though my musical ability has spread to the saxophone and guitar. Compositions by Melinda (I don't want random people stalking me, so I took out my last name) are still waiting to be written, but I’m sure they’ll come soon.
Sunday, December 5, 2010
Reflection
What do you see when you look in the mirror? Most people would answer simply, "myself". But I'm asking you to look deeper. Look at your expression. Do you like the way you look? I know quite a few people who don't. People who dye their hair, starve themselves, and wear pounds of makeup. I have to admit, though, I am quite fond of eyeliner.
What is appearance? What makes a person attractive physically? The answer is different for everyone, because everyone has their own mind and eyes. For the same reason, everyone likes different colors, though like people, there are some colors that almost everyone finds appealing, and vice versa. Sometimes, as I'm sitting in class, I'll look over at the person next to me and wonder what they're thinking about. It's hard to do, though, as everyone thinks differently and holds a unique aspect on life.
The strange thing I've found is that the slightest change in someone's appearance can change their level of attractiveness. For example, the "hot guy" in my grade at school will get a haircut and all the girls will be crying because he's lost his appeal. It's a little pathetic, but it does go to show how little of a change can make a big difference. Usually, though, people don't realize that. They deck out their face in makeup, or they dye their hair a completely different color, while the suttlest change probably would have done the trick.
So many people these days are extremely under confident, though it's much more noticable in girls. I'm one of the lucky ones; I'm happy with the way I look. But in most cases, girls need reassurance, so they start what I call, "fat fights". One girl will loudly exlaim, sometimes out of nowhere, "Oh my gosh, I'm so fat!" And her best friend, usually only a few feet away, will come to her rescue by saying, "No, you're so much skinnier than me. I'm the fat one!" The first girl will continue, "I'm so fat and ugly, and you're so pretty! I wish I was you." It goes on... And on... And on... And it really bugs the crap out of me. I mean, I understand it, I just get annoyed by it.
But what more is appearance than a description? It doesn't define who you are unless you let it. Someone out there loves you for you, and not just because of the way you look. Society gets so caught up in being attractive that some people never step back and look at the big picture and think, "What does it matter?" Hopefully, you can accept your flaws. Truly, I believe that's the secret to happiness; accepting who you are and your purpose here on Earth. Let me know what you think about appearance and happiness in the comments. I'm outta here.
What is appearance? What makes a person attractive physically? The answer is different for everyone, because everyone has their own mind and eyes. For the same reason, everyone likes different colors, though like people, there are some colors that almost everyone finds appealing, and vice versa. Sometimes, as I'm sitting in class, I'll look over at the person next to me and wonder what they're thinking about. It's hard to do, though, as everyone thinks differently and holds a unique aspect on life.
The strange thing I've found is that the slightest change in someone's appearance can change their level of attractiveness. For example, the "hot guy" in my grade at school will get a haircut and all the girls will be crying because he's lost his appeal. It's a little pathetic, but it does go to show how little of a change can make a big difference. Usually, though, people don't realize that. They deck out their face in makeup, or they dye their hair a completely different color, while the suttlest change probably would have done the trick.
So many people these days are extremely under confident, though it's much more noticable in girls. I'm one of the lucky ones; I'm happy with the way I look. But in most cases, girls need reassurance, so they start what I call, "fat fights". One girl will loudly exlaim, sometimes out of nowhere, "Oh my gosh, I'm so fat!" And her best friend, usually only a few feet away, will come to her rescue by saying, "No, you're so much skinnier than me. I'm the fat one!" The first girl will continue, "I'm so fat and ugly, and you're so pretty! I wish I was you." It goes on... And on... And on... And it really bugs the crap out of me. I mean, I understand it, I just get annoyed by it.
But what more is appearance than a description? It doesn't define who you are unless you let it. Someone out there loves you for you, and not just because of the way you look. Society gets so caught up in being attractive that some people never step back and look at the big picture and think, "What does it matter?" Hopefully, you can accept your flaws. Truly, I believe that's the secret to happiness; accepting who you are and your purpose here on Earth. Let me know what you think about appearance and happiness in the comments. I'm outta here.
Saturday, November 27, 2010
Beatles Forever
For all of you Beatles fanatics out there, you may have noticed that my URL, SeeTheWorldSpinningAround, is one of the lines in The Fool on the Hill by the Beatles. Now I know they're a little before my time, but I still enjoy the music they made years ago. They made a fair amount of decent songs, with quite a variety, setting them up for songs that would last for decades.
The British quartet, Paul McCartney, John Lennon, George Harrison, and Ringo Starr, were together for ten years from 1960 to 1970. It's amazing how much they were able to accomplish in so little time, as they recorded 208 songs. Some of my favorites are well known, including Eleanor Rigby, All My Loving, and obviously, The Fool on the Hill. Though I like their varied style, I tend to enjoy the sadder songs, such as A Day in the Life. But it just goes to show; The Beatles have something for almost every music genre.
Though The Beatles are great, their fame is dying out. I'm twelve, and very few people my age have heard their songs, let alone they could never recognize a line from one. When I find one of my peers enjoys their music as much as I do, though, I give them a high-five. We're pretty rare, twelve-year-old Beatles lovers, so when it's the annoying, loud kid who shares fondness for the older band, it's a little depressing. At first, you're excited, but then, as they conversation you struck up with them is starting to get on your nerves, you consider it a failed attempt and regret starting the conversation. On the plus side, though, more often then not the young Beatles fan is very likeable.
What is it about The Beatles that caused them to collect many fans? Was it the catchy bass lines? The strange lyrics that take you days to figure out? The variety and difference in their songs? All of it, I guess. I personally like their sound and how it's different from everyone else's. And you gotta admit, the bass lines are pretty sweet.
I suggest, if you haven't heard any of The Beatles' songs, to search them on Youtube. Better yet, they just recently released Beatles songs on iTunes, which made me very happy when I found out. Just warning you guys who haven't heard them yet, they're different than the music today, though they kinda remind me of Lady GaGa in the way that their songs can be kinda out there, even though they sound nothing like her.
I remember one of the first Beatles songs I heard. Is that obsessed? I hope not. Anyway, I took When I'm 64 to a liking when I was younger. I still like it, but I've found other songs of theirs that I like better. Eleanor Rigby is definately one of my favorites. I know I mentioned it before, but I even figured out how to play it on the saxophone.
All in all, The Beatles are pretty cool. Check them out if you haven't heard their songs in your free time, which is probably now, seeing as you're taking the time to read this post. However, if you are a current fan of The Beatles, leave your favorite song of theirs in the comments. I'm outta here.
The British quartet, Paul McCartney, John Lennon, George Harrison, and Ringo Starr, were together for ten years from 1960 to 1970. It's amazing how much they were able to accomplish in so little time, as they recorded 208 songs. Some of my favorites are well known, including Eleanor Rigby, All My Loving, and obviously, The Fool on the Hill. Though I like their varied style, I tend to enjoy the sadder songs, such as A Day in the Life. But it just goes to show; The Beatles have something for almost every music genre.
Though The Beatles are great, their fame is dying out. I'm twelve, and very few people my age have heard their songs, let alone they could never recognize a line from one. When I find one of my peers enjoys their music as much as I do, though, I give them a high-five. We're pretty rare, twelve-year-old Beatles lovers, so when it's the annoying, loud kid who shares fondness for the older band, it's a little depressing. At first, you're excited, but then, as they conversation you struck up with them is starting to get on your nerves, you consider it a failed attempt and regret starting the conversation. On the plus side, though, more often then not the young Beatles fan is very likeable.
What is it about The Beatles that caused them to collect many fans? Was it the catchy bass lines? The strange lyrics that take you days to figure out? The variety and difference in their songs? All of it, I guess. I personally like their sound and how it's different from everyone else's. And you gotta admit, the bass lines are pretty sweet.
I suggest, if you haven't heard any of The Beatles' songs, to search them on Youtube. Better yet, they just recently released Beatles songs on iTunes, which made me very happy when I found out. Just warning you guys who haven't heard them yet, they're different than the music today, though they kinda remind me of Lady GaGa in the way that their songs can be kinda out there, even though they sound nothing like her.
I remember one of the first Beatles songs I heard. Is that obsessed? I hope not. Anyway, I took When I'm 64 to a liking when I was younger. I still like it, but I've found other songs of theirs that I like better. Eleanor Rigby is definately one of my favorites. I know I mentioned it before, but I even figured out how to play it on the saxophone.
All in all, The Beatles are pretty cool. Check them out if you haven't heard their songs in your free time, which is probably now, seeing as you're taking the time to read this post. However, if you are a current fan of The Beatles, leave your favorite song of theirs in the comments. I'm outta here.
This is me.
This is my world. No, not Earth; this blog. And yeah, I got a life. I'm just also a nerd who enjoys writing melodramatically. Weird? Eh, yeah, I guess. I don't really care, though.
The name's Melinda. I really want to be an author some day, so I figured starting a blog might be a good idea, since it'd force me to write more often. I mean, I am in the process of writing a story, but it'd be nice to be able to write about whatever I want, however I want, and just be free and express myself. Don't get me wrong, I love writing about someone else, especially when it's in first person, because you have to get into their minds and think like them. I love creating fake characters and scenerios. But I also like to write freely, about myself or other things going on in my world.
This is me. My writing, my words, my thoughts, written down for you to read. I'll try and post every week; once I get the hang of blogging I'll probably have a set time for posting, but for now, I'm just gonna wing it and post whenever. I might even post more than once a week, depending on how long the posts are. And, of course, how bored I get.
Well, sorry for the short post, but this one's kinda like an introduction, so yeah. It's gonna be short. I'll try and get another one posted soon, with an actual topic... Anyway, if you like my style, tell your friends. Or your family. Or your cat. Either way, I'm outta here.
The name's Melinda. I really want to be an author some day, so I figured starting a blog might be a good idea, since it'd force me to write more often. I mean, I am in the process of writing a story, but it'd be nice to be able to write about whatever I want, however I want, and just be free and express myself. Don't get me wrong, I love writing about someone else, especially when it's in first person, because you have to get into their minds and think like them. I love creating fake characters and scenerios. But I also like to write freely, about myself or other things going on in my world.
This is me. My writing, my words, my thoughts, written down for you to read. I'll try and post every week; once I get the hang of blogging I'll probably have a set time for posting, but for now, I'm just gonna wing it and post whenever. I might even post more than once a week, depending on how long the posts are. And, of course, how bored I get.
Well, sorry for the short post, but this one's kinda like an introduction, so yeah. It's gonna be short. I'll try and get another one posted soon, with an actual topic... Anyway, if you like my style, tell your friends. Or your family. Or your cat. Either way, I'm outta here.
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