The Other Day

The other day I met you
Not for the first time
But for the first time we talked.
We spoke for hours and hours
I knew you better than a dear friend
But on parting
I didn't dare
to hope
We'd speak again.

The other day, but a different day,
We saw each other again
And I began to suspect as we spoke
(And so did our friends)
That perhaps talking might not be all
I wanted.

You were shining bright,
A candle that had just been lit.

The other day (yesterday),
I heard the rumors going around
That we were more than friends -
That we were a couplet.
(A couplet is two complementing lines
that complete each other's rhymes.)
And I learned
To hope
That there are prophets in our midst.

And yesterday again
I asked if you wanted to go somewhere
Or more specifically, somewhere with me
And you said yes.
The words luminescent on the small screen
Just as bright as they felt.

You said yes.

Last night, when I got to the place
You weren't there. I looked
Only to find strangers staring at me.
I learned that a vice lives around my heart.

But then there was a hand on my shoulder
And a smile on your face,
Because you'd seen me come in
And had had to walk through the crowd to me.
You said
Hello
And my heart said yes.

Emotions

Sorrow is

Being a single oxygen atom

Alone in a vacuum;

Searching for something to bond with

And not finding it.

Guilt is

Being a balloon in a vice

That is forever gripping closer

Until the balloon is this… close… to popping

But never does.

Confusion is

 Being a newspaper boat, lost at sea;

The storm raging, water washing across the deck,

Melting all your stark black letters

Into a middling grey muddle,

White paper wasted.

Anger is

Being fire, all-destroying

Either swift lightning, retribution

Or slow-smoldering, hot, waiting

To flare up later and destroy a full city block

Happiness is

Being the first breeze of spring,

Light and free, easy-going

Making everyone that much warmer

Reminding the world of summer

Love is

Being a magnet by itself

Surrounded by a permanent invisible field

Until the other half come along

And then the halves are together and no longer searching.

Peace is

Being a lake full of life

With a thousand things going on beneath the surface

But not disturbed by them

Perfectly reflecting the blue above.

Sort of Hiatus-ish

So senioritus hit me hard this semester. I lost the ability to give a crap about my classwork, because honestly - I want to be a music performance major and spending an hour a night studying physics and French when I could have been working on actual music stuff did not seem like the best use of my time. My grades right now are showing that. Not a lot, if I were someone else - I've got two A-'s and a B. It's not huge, especially with my school's grading stuff, but still. These bug me. I'm going to be studying a lot more and doing random interneting a lot less in the next two months, to see if I can pull out of this semester with a single A-. That would be cool. And if I can get all my grades up to A's, that would be awesome. So. If I don't post a lot in the coming seven weeks, I completely blame school and stuff. You have been warned.

Why is Dealing with People Hard?

WARNING: THIS POST HAS NO REDEEMING SOCIETAL VALUE. IT ISN'T EVEN LITERARY OMPHALOSCEPTICISM. PEOPLE LOOKING FOR CONTENT SHOULD GO HERE. YOU'RE WELCOME.




Wow. You kept reading? Cool.

As you might have figured out by reading the rest of my blog, I'm not exactly the type of girl who reads 17 or can make a guy fall for me in less than two days. Really, I'm not. My theme song is this:

Which is especially fitting because I spend Saturday mornings and Wednesday evenings in the tech building wearing goggles and using tools that shoot sparks and occasionally try to set my hair on fire. I've never been a particularly stereotypical high school girl, which means that now that my female friends at school are giving me meaningful looks and breaking out in the Matchmaker song from Fiddler on the Roof whenever I'm around, I'm more than a little nervous.

Example: I go to talk to them about a scheduling conflict, now resolved, that I was at the moment freaking out over. I make the poor choice of starting the conversation off by saying, "Guess what?"

And because my friends are awful human beings, one says, "You're in love with.... This christmas tree?" while giving friend 2 a significant look.

Friend 2's eyes get wide. Then she looks at me and then back to friend 1, then out into the auditorium, which was filling up with people before our performance. A certain dude was walking at that moment.

Then both friends did this:

That's when I realized I was screwed.

This is because I made the mistake of telling them about a certain development in my potential, mostly imaginary love life yesterday in hopes that the Girl Mafia could find some stuff out for me. Such. A bad. Idea.

IMPORTANT ANNOUNCEMENT to all younger girls who may be reading this: that one super girly friend? She's a good source of information, but SHE WILL TRY TO SET YOU UP. Oh god.

So I'm sort of expecting to start getting texts or find out that I've been scheduled to have a lunch date or something tomorrow. Honestly, it would not surprise me at all. I feel sorry for the guy in question, because no one deserves that pair set on them when they want to know/want you to do something.

So. Here's hoping that this doesn't get screwed up somehow.

Romance and Robots and Writing, Oh My

So these are sort of out of order, according to conventional wisdom, but I've got a couple things that I'm going to talk about in this post, in order of current personal importance.

The first is this: if a person spends four hours talking with someone and doesn't know how to flirt, is it still possible for that person to fall for the someone? The answer, as of right now, appears to be yes. I was at a robotics tournament today (which will be yesterday by the time this is posted) in a different state. This required a three and a half hour drive there and a four hour drive back, because ice and food. I spent the entire drive back talking with a single person, one whom I've noticed more than once in the past. However, he was very much so taken for the past, oh, three months. However, this is no longer the case, as I found out during that conversation, and suddenly I'm where I was three months ago, only worse, because I've spent four hours talking to him about everything and anything.

Edit: The Girl Mafia network has been set on this issue. Updates pending.


Side note: There's another atheist at my school! Score!

So now I have to figure out what to do. Or actually, I know what I have to do (just ask him to the next dance, because he's not going to be the one to do it first) and I just have to convince myself to do it. Eek.


The second thing is this: I was at a robotics tournament today. AAAAAAAAAAAAH WE WON THE TOURNAMENT AND QUALIFIED FOR WORLD AND WON THE EXCELLENCE AWARD AAAAAAAAAAH.

I'm better now.

As I said, the tournament was in another state. To get there by the starting time of eightish, I was supposed to wake up at three am. Instead, I woke up at one thirty, and just sort of waited until my alarm went off to get out of bed. I drank most of a two-litre Mountain Dew bottle over the course of my (creeping up on 23-hour) day, which is part of why I'm typing this at nearly midnight when I should be sleeping. I'm still jazzed.

There were last-minute, hair-raising repairs made, there were crashes and tumbles and rubber bands flying, gearshafts being torqued, and all sorts of stuff. But against some pretty high odds, we not only won the excellence award because of our awesomeness and super-detailed report notes, but also the tournament itself, against the first-seed alliance when we were only third. We beat the robots with the first and second driver skill scores in the country, by being sneaky on the field. Both of those things get you qualified to go to the World competition, and so yeah. We're going to World. It'll be awesome.

Then on the way home, at the sketchy McDonald's at which we stopped, the conversation mentioned in the first section was briefly interrupted by a sweet/creepy old dude who told me he wanted me to be a doctor and gave me a hug. The next time he came over I hid under the table and let the guy from section 1 fend him off. It was an overall successful trip.


Third: I finished NaNo and beat it by 320 words. I plan to NEVER EVER read that novel again. Or at least not until I've forgotten how much I hate it and the schmaltz and poor descriptions it spewed all over the place. So maybe next month? Anyway. It's over! Huzzah!

DAY THIRTY OH MY GOD I DID IT

Note - there has been significant revision of past chapters - i.e. adding more stuff to. So. Don't take what I've posted over the last month to be the final say. There was another final say, but this is probably doomed to the closet until I can bear to look at it again.



Now, they were on their third album and second tour, and they were only getting better. This concert was huge, because it was essentially a homecoming - this was the first arena they'd performed in, as an opening group, and plus, they got to go to sleep in their own beds for a night or two.

Morgan smiled up at Cale, whose keyboards were set up more or less in front of us. He crossed his eyes at her. Rhiannon and Thomas tuned up quick, and then she went forward and grabbed the mic. Rhia was definitely the leader on stage, being the guitarist, lone woman, and biggest personality force. It was always fun watching her take over the stage, which is what she proceeded to do.

The first song, after the requisite stage chatter, was /Hello and What's Your Name?/, a song that Andrew claimed he'd written about me. Which was sweet, but made listening to Thomas and Rhiannon singing it a little awkward. Adorable, but awkward. Then they played a rotation of crowd favorites, including /Silver City Falls/, my personal favorite.

The concert lasted a good hour and a half, with no new song to be heard. It wasn't that I minded the songs, but I wanted to hear the new one. Morgan was beginning to look actually frustrated by the continued lack of newness. But finally, the last song of the concert was heralded by Rhia stepping back, and Cale speaking into his microphone.

"So we said that a new song was going to be revealed tonight, and there is. This next song was my baby, I'll admit. It was written a couple years ago, when I was coming out of a bad spot. I'd found out some life-changing news, and someone was there for me when I found out. I'd been wrong, and she forgave me. This song is dedicated to Morgan Hart, the love of my life."

The audience roared. Morgan appeared on the screen behind the band, smiling and looking adorably awkward and radiantly happy. Then the screen flicked back to showing Cale, who started playing a slow piano ballad.

It was beautiful, about undying love and endless forgiveness. I don't think there was a dry eye left in the house by the end of the song. Then, to the surprise of all, except for Jim and the band, who looked self-satisfied to the nth degree, Cale came around from behind his keyboard and got down on one knee, on the edge of the stage, just in front of Morgan. She was actively crying now. "I wrote that for you," he said. "Will you marry me?"

I was looking at her now, and saw her nod, unable to even make sound. Two members of security appeared from nowhere and escorted her onto the stage, where Cale, still kneeling, slipped a sparkling ring onto her finger.

It was amazing. I'd never seen anything like it. My jealousy of the spectacle was exceeded only by my happiness for her. If anyone deserved that kind of happiness, it was her.

The audience was screaming, applauding, being as freaking noisy as possible. It was perfect.



The after party was insane. I wasn't exactly feeling like having a drink, but plenty of other people were. Morgan and Cale were flushed and happy together, holding hands all the time and periodically becoming absorbed into each other to the point where it took physical contact to bring them out of it. I think they were congratulated more times than it was physically possible to count. Andrew pulled out his phone at one point, and told us that #CongratsCale was trending on Twitter. That was a surreal moment, hearing that. There are certain things that simply don't sound like they could happen. This was one of them. It was a happy ending.

I've run out of words to say and now I'm giving myself some padding just in case the thing changes it.

Let not my love be called idolatry,
Nor my beloved as an idol show,
Since all alike my songs and praises be
To one, of one, still such, and ever so.
Kind is my love to-day, to-morrow kind,
Still constant in a wondrous excellence;
Therefore my verse to constancy confined,
One thing expressing, leaves out difference.
Fair, kind, and true, is all my argument,
Fair, kind, and true, varying to other words;
And in this change is my invention spent,
Three themes in one, which wondrous scope affords.
   Fair, kind, and true, have often lived alone,
   Which three till now, never kept seat in one.



Hello and What's Your Name

T: Have you ever met the kind of girl who just steals your breath away
R: Or seen a guy you need to know, but only met today
Both: I just saw that person there, and really, it's okay
I just need to learn to go up to them and say

Hello and what's your name
I didn't catch it when you came in
You've caught my eye, you seem shy
I want to talk to you but
don't know where to begin

R: He's standing across the room from me
T: She's standing by the bar
How do I go over there?
R: It just seems so so far
Both: I know that if I spoke to them my life would be complete
But I can't find the words to say, i can't move my feet

Hello and what's your name
I didn't catch it when you came in
You've caught my eye, you seem shy
I want to talk to you but
don't know where to begin

T: She's bored and all alone, she's heading for the door.
R: I can't take the tension, I need to get away
But now he's coming over, and so I say
T (over and with R): I go over to her, and so I say

Hello and what's your name
I didn't catch it when you came in
You've caught my eye, you seem shy
I want to talk to you but
don't know where to begin

Hello and what's your name
I didn't catch it when you came in
You've caught my eye, you seem shy
I want to talk to you but
don't know where to begin


Silver City Falls

Cale: Silver City Falls, a little river town
Prides itself on propriety,
Everyone knows everyone around
If you do something wrong, someone'll see

Silver City Falls, a little river town
Knows too much, the people see all
Even the best citizens go down
And one day, one day, Silver City's gonna fall

You better not fall in love
Unless everybody agrees
Because you'll need God's help from above
Or you'll be forced to elope overseas

Silver City Falls, a little river town
Knows too much, the people see all
Even the best citizens go down
And one day, one day, Silver City's gonna fall

Mary Hancock, daughter of the pastor
Fell in love with Tommy Hill
You've never seen a couple leave town faster
Than when her father said they'd go to hell

Silver City Falls, a little river town
Knows too much, the people see all
Even the best citizens go down
And one day, one day, Silver City's gonna fall

etc

Days 25 through 29 (There went that streak.)

 So quick note before the monstrous piece of text I'm about to post: I'm going insane for about 21 hours tomorrow, so the only way that today's writing will get posted is if the random city in Illinois to which I'm heading at four AM has wifi I can plug into. And if I don't fall asleep/die of caffeine-induced heart palpitations. k? k.




Andrew (cont.)

I filled out the paperwork - insurance and such, mostly - and gave it to the tired-looking receptionist on duty. Then I went back to the waiting room, and told Thomas he could head home.

"I'm not leaving you here," he said, indicating the general awful antisepticness of the place. "Honestly. Who does that?"

"Fine," i said. "But if you have a kink in your neck tomorrow, it's not my fault." And I proceeded to fall asleep on the couch.



Nathan:

It only took three more days before Morgan was willing to let me go back to work. I pulled myself together quite well, if I said so myself. I even enrolled myself in an anger-management program. There were some things that had to be dealt with, and there was no way I was letting my temper get in the way of good business. When I told my PA that she had to fit in these weekly meetings, she gave me a hug. That was unexpected, but.. Oddly nice. Patricia was a good PA and nowhere near as insipid as some of my former PAs. If she thought it was that good of an idea, then I had a little more confidence that I was doing the right thing.

Morgan bought me dinner, when she found out. We went out to a local Italian place, very good, very expensive, with wonderful wines. I decided against the wine, however. For some reason, the thought of alcohol turned my stomach at the moment.

"I don't see why everyone sees this as such a huge deal," I ranted, after our food had arrived. Morgan was twirling a strand of linguini around the tines of her fork, and an elegant violin concerto was floating on the warm breeze that flowed through the restaurant from wide open trellis windows. I ignored the atmosphere. "It's not like it's a huge acheivement. I've realized there was something inhibiting my business acumen, and I decided to fix it. That's simple sense."

Morgan rolled her eyes eloquently, apparently too busy chewing to bother to respond.

"And besides, I do not believe that it affected any of the people celebrating overmuch - I fail to see why you deem it necessary to buy me dinner," I gestured with my fork, a bit of lobster stuck on the end, "especially here, of all places. It's just sense."

"But it's sense that you haven't shown in years past," Morgan said. having finally swallowed. "We've been worried about you. Energy and anger was a godsend when the business was first yours - Uncle is many things, but by the end of his tenure, a good business man was not on of them. You and he are a lot alike. You thrive when things are on the rocks, but as soon as things start becoming simpler, smoother, you start acting out. There's just not enough for you to do."

"That's slander," I said, offended. "Father was an excellent businessman to the very end."