Wednesday, December 24, 2008


It's very enjoyable.

Or not.

On another note, I was just reading this blog, which I happened to pick up on, and start following, from Rae's blog.

To summarize, if you don't like reading other links, this particular post is done by a friend, talking about the Santa issue she deals with every year with her child, what with the questions about Santa, and her having to sneak around in the night to get the Santa activities done. The post ended with a question about how the reader's kids found out about Santa, when, and even how they themselves found out about Santa.

I decided to answer this post. Call it a sudden ghost of Christmas past that came to me, but this is was I proceeded to reply with:

"I’m 18, still living at home, with my brother, 15. We know the Santa secret, but every year we still go to bed early to let them do the Santa thing. Why ruin a good thing?

I found out the Santa secret…sometime during elementary school. I can’t remember exactly when. I found out when we were playing hide-and-seek in out house, and I hid in my parent’s closet, sliding a box to the side to make room. Lo and behold, come Christmas, I ended up seeing that same box under the tree from Santa.

You have no idea how disappointed I was. As in, when I came to terms that I was pretty sure that Santa was a no-go, I was absolutely crying in my room. My mom came in, and sat on my bed, asking what was wrong and hugging me, as all moms do. Finally I calmed down enough, and summoned my courage to ask if Santa was real, because I clearly had my doubts. The look on Mom’s face was all the answer I needed, and I burst into tears again. After I calmed down to quiet sobbing again, my Mom asked me a question.

“Do you want him to be real?”

I nodded.

“If you believe in him with your heart, he’ll always be real.”

My parents put the presents under the tree every year, and fill my stocking in the night, and I know reindeer can’t fly, but Santa will always be real."

On another note, to put things in Gossip Girl terms (though I have never actually followed Gossip Girl), I'm really glad C is okay. I can't wait to see her.

And now, though it is still before midnight, I shall be going to bed.

That's a lie. I'm already in bed. I'll just proceed to play computer games (eg. Puzzle Pirates) until I actually feel like sleeping. The reason for the early bedtime is just...well, the big man needs time to do the whole present thing, doesn't he?


"Her name's Misty, but she also responds to Mitsy."

Tuesday, December 23, 2008


Yes, I spent the day in my pajamas. I didn't go anywhere. I played Puzzle Pirates, watched Mythbusters, and played Super Smash Bros. Brawl. I also attempted to start laundry. But laundry days are always, in reality, laundry weeks. So it'll take a while no matter when I start it.

Christmas is so close. I'm excited. Presents are under the tree, and Bennet's days off start tomorrow. Squee.

Anyways, after this insanely inactive day, I'm excited for tomorrow. Don't get me wrong, I love days where I just do nothing, but this was almost excessive. At least tomorrow I'll be going out and seeing people and...well, actually having a reason to get dressed in general. =P

Yummy eggnog. And banana milk, which I polished off today.

I also need to upload pictures, which I'm going to do right now. I also need to start my other blog that I've been talking about. But that one won't have my name on it, so don't expect me to tell you about it. It'll appear in my blog list though, so if you're diligent about checking that, you'll see it.


"So good!"

Monday, December 22, 2008


So, I've been told I need to blog more. And I agree with Morgan. I haven't been doing it lately. Mostly because I have a boy that I tell everything too now instead of pouring it out in blog form. But I'm going to try to write more.

I'm currently contemplating how I'm going to write on this blog. It's mostly just a confusing jumble of thoughts, so I won't bore you. Just warning you that the style of writing on my blog may change a little. We'll see.

Anyways, so I'm going to try to blog more. And not just at night, or before bed, or when I'm in a bad mood, either.

As a side note, I'm always really happy when I discover that people have been reading my blog. It makes me feel loved.

The holidays have been so much fun lately. Time off has been wonderful, and I haven't been practicing nearly as much as I should be. But it's also the holidays. I'll have to start practicing in January, as NYO auditions are fast approaching, but for now, the break is nice.

Bennet starts his holiday on Wednesday, so I'm excited for that. I realized last night how much I have a fear that we won't spend as much time as I want to over the holidays. I'm pretty sure this comes from the summer of grade 10. Which is odd, because I don't often keep things like that with me. But oh well. While the fear is there, part of me knows that it's all for nothing, and the holidays will be wonderful. So I'm excited to get to them and prove that fear wrong.

Which, hon, if you're wondering why I keep needing reassurance that we're spending lots of time together during your time off...that's why.

I can't tell you what I got everybody for Christmas, because I know my family reads this, so you'll just have to wait until after Christmas morning to find out. Plus, then I can tell you how they reacted. I don't know if Bennet reads this or not, but I'd rather not risk it.

I've been playing Puzzle Pirates a lot lately. It makes me happy. It's a game that I can only really play when I have nothing else to do, as it's very easy to just spend hours on that game. So during the school year, no. But holidays, hell yes.

I think I might celebrate Christmas day with a video blog. How does that sound?

I have to admit that I'm a little disappointed that Little Big Planet is for Playstation only. It looks really cute. I think I'd enjoy it.

Another reason I love the holidays: I love hanging out with my friends. And between Christmas parties, and just randomly meeting people who have come home for Christmas, it's great. I've been having an awesome time.

Winter is fun. Snow drifts are fun. Getting stuck is fun. Getting people unstuck is fun. Cuddling inside with hot chocolate is fun. Staying up until 3 am just talking is fun. Life is fun.

Yes, I said it. Life is fun. So stop thinking about it, and just remember that life is ridiculous, and it's not to be taken seriously. Because why? It's too short to be doing that.

So laugh, love, and live, and it'll all turn out okay in the end.

That's my message for the day.

Until the next update (which will hopefully be in the very near future [hope for tomorrow]),


(PS: Should I come up with some sort of sign off? Seems like other people have one. I've just been happy with my name. Something to think about.)

"You do realize Christmas is in 3 days?"

Thursday, December 11, 2008

It's been a while

Apparently I just haven't had much to say in the past little while. Contrary to what some people will tell you. As in, the people I've kept on the phone all night when they've already been working all day. And by people, I mean person.

I probably shouldn't let that become a habit. But I've missed spending time just talking on the phone.

Stomach cramps are going to kill me. And I'm so screwed for history. Anybody with me?

So tomorrow I'm probably going to spend working on my reed so I can play a half decent solo for the concert, as well as attempting to study for history, in both the listening and the knowledge category. Fun, eh?

On another note, I just signed up for online banking. Mostly so that I can make sure that any cheques I put in are actually deposited. Seeing as the one I put in four days ago still isn't in my account. I am not pleased.

Well, like I said, I don't really have much to say. I think anything I actually wanted to blog about I already told the boy over the phone a couple nights ago. After I had a few drinks, which I'm still not sure whether that was a good idea or not.

Oh, observation of the day: I hate small talk. Like, seriously. I should stop mentioning that I'm a musician, because then it's all just "What do you play?", "What do you want to do?", "My *insert member of family* also plays *insert instrument*", "That's so cool."...

And the real kicker that got to me today:

"I really respect talented people."


First of all, that is a wonderfully wide open statement, thank you for making that. It's like saying, "I really love weather."

Maybe not exactly, but it seems that way to me.

Second of all, just because I'm a musician does not mean I'm talented. Let's put this into perspective for all of you reading this. The person who said this was at the blood clinic today, where I was giving blood. She was a nurse. We had this talk withing about 3 minutes that I was in the room with her. In that 3 minutes, I mentioned that I was a musician, played the bassoon (described what a bassoon was), that I'd like to play in an orchestra, and that I'm a first year music student at the U of C.

And she comes out of there saying she respects me for how talented I am?

Okay, if I had mentioned that I had only been playing bassoon for a month and I was accepted as a bassoon major at the university, then I might accept that statement. But I think that's the only circumstance I would accept it.

That term just bugs me. Talented. I won't deny it, there are such things as talented people out there. I do not consider myself to me one of them.

I did not just pick up a bassoon and play well enough to get into university. I did not play my first note and everybody thought it was so gorgeous, and I was so wonderful.

If people knew what I sounded like when I first started, they would not say I'm talented.

It's not like I have this wonderful power to be good at it whenever I want. I worked hard to sound like I do today. I practiced a lot to be able to go to university. I did not pick up a bassoon, blow a few notes, and go 'hey, I'm really good at this, I think I'll do it for the rest of my life.'

But enough of that. The boy's home. I must go call him. And possibly repeat everything I just wrote. That's how it sometimes happens.


"We'll be back later to...inspect the oven..."

Tuesday, November 18, 2008


Am I a selfish person?

Am I selfish for being withdrawn in a conversation for the sole purpose of getting asked what's wrong? And therefore having a reason to just pour out everything onto somebody else?

Am I selfish for wanting to involve other people in my troubles and conflicts, instead of remaining the happy, carefree person people expect me to be?

Is being melodramatic also being selfish?

I read a poem my brother wrote and left on the table. It started with 'if only, if only'. I remember starting a poem like that. Except I could never get any further than that. Because as soon as I start getting into 'if only' there's just too much to say, and not enough space, or words to say it with.

It's just odd that my brother would also start a poem like that.

I felt very isolated today. And I still do.

I need somebody to tell me I'm not crazy. I need somebody to tell me that I'm not the only one. I need somebody to let me know that I'm not as alone as I feel sometimes.

I need to cry.

I'm afraid. I'm afraid because every once in a while I run into some aspect of life that I just can't stand, and it takes me forever to get through. I'm afraid that eventually one of those will come along and I won't be able to get through it at all. And everybody else just blows through it without a problem, and I'm left alone and I can't move on.

I'm afraid that I won't have what it takes to go anywhere in life.

Sometimes I'm really excited for the life I have planned out for me. Sometimes I'm really excited for that plan to fail, just so I can find out what else life has waiting for me. And sometimes I'm really afraid that I won't make it in either case. Tonight seems to be one of those times.

My bassoon teacher mentioned that it seemed like I was loosing my confidence today. I know she meant my playing. And I'm more or less sure why it seems that way. But the weird thing is that it continued throughout the day. I was always slightly on edge, and I never really felt completely comfortable, or settled. No matter where I was, I felt like I didn't belong there.

And then I got home, and I still couldn't feel settled. I sat down, and got back up. I'd go to the kitchen for some food and end up wandering into the living room to stare blankly at the paper for a while. It's a miracle I was able to get my theory homework done.

I want to avoid reality right now. But at the same time, I know it's coming. This entire evening was a mix of me trying to figure out how to deal with the coming reality, and yet trying to completely avoid it at the same time. It doesn't exactly make for an easy combination.

I feel like the more unhappy I am, the further I get from actually being me. I feel most like myself when I'm happy. And right now I don't feel like me. I don't feel like anybody. I feel like this shell of empty feelings that needs to be brought back, or woken up somehow.

Maybe I'm crazy. Maybe I need sleep. But going to sleep means I'll be even closer to having to deal with tomorrow. Which I don't want to do.

I need to know I'm not alone. And you can tell me I'm not alone as many times as you like, but let me save you some time and tell you that it won't make a difference. Don't get me wrong, I appreciate the thought. But being told I'm not alone doesn't make me feel better. Knowing I'm not alone makes me feel better. There's a difference. Actually not being alone lets me know I'm not alone.

I need to be with somebody. A friend. A good friend. Just talking. Pouring out everything and anything I'm thinking or feeling. The only problem with that is that there's nobody here. It's just me in my room, and the backpack waiting to be dragged to school tomorrow.

Therefore, I resort to writing, and being melodramatic and pessimistic towards anybody and everybody who reads this, and waiting to be saved.

Does that make me selfish?


"What do you want from me, reed gods? My first born child? It's yours."
"That's like me moving to Pakistan and being offended by sand."
"If I lived in France in the 1600s, I would have guys all over me."

Sunday, November 09, 2008

She's never pulled anyone from a burning building
She's never rocked Central Park to a half a million fans, screaming out her name
She's never hit a shot to win the game
She's never left her footprints on the moon
She's never made a solo hot air balloon ride, around the world,
No, she's just your everyday average girl (but)

She's somebody's hero
A hero to her baby with a skinned up knee
A little kiss is all she needs
The keeper of the cheerios
The voice that brings Snow White to life
Bedtime stories every night
And that smile lets her know
She's somebody's hero

She didn't get a check every week like a nine-to fiver
But she's been a waiter, and a cook and a taxi driver
For twenty years, there at home, until the day her girl was grown
Giving all her love to her was her life's ambition
But now her baby's movin' on, and she'll soon be missin' her
But not today, those are tears of joy runnin' down her face

Thanks Mom.

I love you.


"You have to love us because you're our mother."

Wednesday, October 29, 2008

And life goes on

I'm currently sitting in the lobby. Eating greasy, but cheap, food from Mac Hall. And blogging. Obviously.

Should have practiced today. Didn't. Moving on.

Mike just sat up on the couch next to me. He's been sleeping for at least the past hour.

My stomach's already protesting against what I'm forcing it to digest. Deal with it stomach, payday isn't until the end of this week.

I am starving musician. And starving student. I shall develop stomach of steel. Rawr.

When I went to Taco Time and gave them one of my many certificates that I have, the guy asked where I got them. I was dad works for a radio station and he brought them home. The guy said something about seeing one like it before (btw, that was because I also went there Monday), and muttered something else, but I couldn't hear it. He'd better not be complaining, because for his information, these stupid certificates are the only reason I'm really going to Taco Time to get food lately.

And again, I'm not complaining, because it's a burrito, 'Mexi-Fries' and a drink for 3$. So, it works. But still. I would like to inform that guy that there are at least four different places I'd rather go to in Mac Hall, and instead, I am taking the time to go there. So deal with it.

Oh look, Ben just moved to Mike's couch and is now sleeping. Good for him.

Of course, that's my pessimistic side kicking in. Maybe he was wondering where he could get some. Or maybe he'd just never seen them and he was curious.

But at least they take them and know what to do with them, as opposed to some places who look at coupons blankly.

And the saxophone quartet is rehearsing. And they're conveniently rehearsing in the room that is so live you can hear anybody playing in it throughout all of Craigie Hall. I exaggerate, but only slightly.

I have my first shift in the Rozsa tonight. Apparently the Rozsa's a lot easier than UT. I can understand that. But I'm also kind of looking forward to trying it out myself.

Oh my gosh! I should be watching Heartland in these couple of hours I have before work!


"What's a stanza?"

Tuesday, October 21, 2008


So, I am currently sitting in the library. I find libraries kind of scary. So my facebook status says. Not that you should ever look too much into my facebook status. It can be misleading. Which seems to be my life in general, but we won't go into that today.

I don't generally find libraries scary. I mean, they can really help you get work done, if you need to be in a mood to get work done. Libraries just give the working environment that sometimes necessary. Not to mention, you can take books out, although if you know me, you know I'd rather the bookstore anyways, because then you get to keep the books when you're done.

But the major reason I find libraries scary is because in some library environments it feels like you can't make any sound. Not just loud sound. No sound at all. And that's really scary, because then every time I put something down too hard, or turn a page of a book, I feel like I've done something wrong.

Therefore, I really dislike the fact that my laptop happens to make a bit of noise when uploading CDs. Because that's why I'm in the library. To borrow CDs that I need for my history listening test, so that I can actually be prepared this time, instead of listening to said songs a total of one morning before actually taking the test. If that makes any sense.

I sat here for a full 15 minutes just trying to work up the nerve to actually go and disturb the peace of the library to ask for the CDs, since you have to ask for them at the Fine Arts desk. I was on the verge of just packing up my stuff and leaving the library without accomplishing anything at all, but then I walked to the front and saw Sean talking with the Fine Arts desk (or rather, the people at the desk, not the desk itself), and suddenly I didn't feel as bad. As for the noise from my laptop...well, I'm 70% sure that the only reason it seems loudish is because I'm about a foot away from it whenever it's uploading. Maybe if I were to walk away a little bit I wouldn't hear it at all. Maybe nobody else even notices, and I'm sitting here being paranoid that I'm making too much noise all for nothing.

Oh well. I'm in the middle of uploading and nobody's given me heck for anything yet. That still doesn't stop me from frowning slightly and almost shushing my computer every time I feel it makes unnecessary noise. But oh well.

Well, all I really had to talk about was my intimidation of libraries, and other oppressively quiet places. I think I shall now go and distract myself with something else on my laptop to distract myself from my own paranoia.


"You're a poor peasant woman. And she's your brother."

Monday, October 13, 2008

This whole place is scary

And by this place, I mean Ryan's place. Because it is.

Mostly because Corey's here. And Corey has a way of turning everything dirty.

I'm also supposed to blog about Ryan.

And remembering what Corey said 'blogging' was, that sounds really really weird.

Corey: "You'll never feel the same way about blogging again."

It's very true. Very, very true.

So here I am sitting, on the couch, and blogging. I kind of want to play Puzzle Pirates, but I also don't really have the energy to commit to that. Especially with people around. It's not exactly a social game, at least concerning the people who aren't on pirates.

So I'm sitting on the couch. Corey's emailing ACAD about a sound program he things he's interested in, and wants to know more about it. Bennet's playing Halo. Or Halo 2. And Ryan's making us food. Ryan's a wonderful human being.

Oh, and Xavier's up in his room, presumably on WoW. Just to make it fair, so I have now blogged about everybody in the house. Nobody can blame me for leaving them out.

Bennet's attempting to explain the plot of Halo to me. I'm not sure if I'm following it or not.

Corey needs to stop talking. Now.

And this could go on forever if I just sat here typing out events as they happen, so I should be off. I'm hungry.

Corey loves me. He knows it.


"That's what she said."

(PS: is it sad that that's the only quote I can pick from today that's actually appropriate for my blog?)

Saturday, October 11, 2008

Life is strange

As I just said to Kelsk, less than two seconds ago.

I'm in one of my weird moods. And it doesn't help that I'm with the boy. Not because he makes it worse or anything, but because than he thinks it's his fault, and it's not. It's just me and my own mind.

I feel bad for not going out tonight. Because I told people I was going to, but the way things ended up working out tonight, it just didn't end up happening.

Maybe to distract myself from this weird mood for a while, I'll talk about singing and skipping, which, if you recall, I was going to talk about last blog, but ended up not doing so.

Anyways, it starts with me walking to the train station after classes a few days ago. This one song came up on my iPod, and I had the sudden urge to just start dancing and singing and whatnot. Like they do in the musicals.

Why did I have this feeling? Because it's me. Because when I'm at home, and there's a song that I like, I'll start singing and doing whatever actions seem appropriate at the time.

Which made me wonder, why do I hide all that when I'm in public? I mean, think about it. When I'm alone, I do it. When I'm with friends, I'll do it. But suddenly when I'm not even by myself, but just walking among people I don't know, I won't.

Why do we seem to be conditioned that when we're in public, or more importantly just among a lot of people we don't know, we have to blend in and become anonymous?

I'm not completely sure where I'm going with all of this, but at the time it just seemed so weird to me that I don't mind being completely myself when I'm alone, or with friends, but suddenly when I'm with people that I don't even know, and probably will never see again in my life, you suddenly hold yourself back.

Does any of that make sense? Probably not. It rarely does on my blog.

Perks of today: I learned how to change rotaries and brake pads on a car, as well as how to rotate tires, as well as playing soccer with Patrick (he's like a dog, it's funny), and also impressed the boys with how quickly I'm learning about cars.

And isn't it focusing on the perks what really matters anyways?


"So next time when you make that face when you're driving, we'll know."

Tuesday, October 07, 2008

Skipping and singing

I meant to blog about this yesterday. But I wasn't in the mood. And to be perfectly honest, I'm not completely sure if I'm in the mood right now, so maybe we'll talk about that another day.

Would I be repeating myself if I said I feel like I'm changing? I know I've said it before. Maybe that feeling never really goes away. It just subsides sometimes.

This really sucks. I'm slowly losing my desire to spill all my thoughts out in email or blog form. The more I sit down and attempt to write them, the more I feel the urge to say them in person.

Except you already know the problem with that. I'll be in the perfect situation to talk, and then my brain will freeze, and I'll end up saying nothing.

He says I'm getting better with it. Am I really? I suppose so, a little bit. But still. It's the fact that I still can't do it like I want to that's getting to me.

PS, if somebody could make my stomach actually cooperate with me, that would be really great.

And now, I'm off to hopefully be productive.



(Actually, the most hilarious quote from today is a little inappropriate for here, so I shall leave it out this time.)

Tuesday, September 30, 2008

Here comes the sun

I feel pretty good right now.

A little while earlier I was in the mood to describe how good I'm feeling at the moment.

The shower helped a lot, methinks.

But now, I'm thinking I'm just going to email the boy, before doing my theory homework and then wondering off to bed.

Just thought you should know that my life isn't all bad, contrary to popular blog posts lately.


"No, I'm calling your wrap job a sieve."

Friday, September 26, 2008

Officially going insane

Yes, it's finally official. No longer just assumed.

I'm not kidding. My mind will be panicking within every inch of its life for a good ten minutes, before some simple thing will happen to snap me back to reality, and convince me that I don't necessarily have to be thinking about that.

But give it a while, and it'll go back to panicking. Vicious cycle and all that.

It's one of those times when I'm really afraid to be alone with myself. I just don't want to listen to my own mind. I want to shut out all the voices that help me figure out things like the future, and consequences, and assignments and expectations, and just concentrate what I'm doing right now.

I need somebody to save me from myself.

Isn't there a song that goes like that? Probably. There's a song for almost anything out there.

But seriously, I'm afraid to be left alone with myself, because certain aspects of my mind just may start committing suicide. I'm not even sure which ones, but they're out there, I know that for sure. I also know that while they may be feeling tortured right now, in the future they're probably good aspects for my mind to have, so I'd rather they stay alive, thank you very much.

That being said, my emotional level is extremely high at the moment. I'm not sure if that's good or bad, as it could swing either way.

It's the same way with my mood. It's on the tip of the knife right now, and it could swing high, or it could swing low. God bless the person who helps get get high, and God have mercy on the pour soul who has to suffer through the lows.

I think I'm going to play a mindless game while listening to music to keep my mind distracted while I wait.


"We need to start a history support group. We'll all meet in the library and work together, and make sure we all work for an hour."
"And then we'll reward ourselves with beers."

Wednesday, September 17, 2008

Stupid's a loose term

So, by stupid, I mean frustrated, tired, crappy...any of the above, and more, really.

Of course, I'm exaggerating, but only slightly.

Summery of my day so far:

I had to get up early to help my classmate prepare for a test. On the way to the train, my bag ripped. Not deathly, I am now without a bag, rip. But enough so that I clearly need to start using something else to carry stuff in. I was waiting until the weekend to buy a backpack, but I might try to get out tonight to get one now.

Practicing for the test went well. I can't complain, it actually wasn't a bad way to start the day. When the time for the test actually came though I screwed up. Which isn't horrible, but it's still slightly frustrating.

Theory was frustrating.

And Kristian's a jerk.

Moving on.

History was boring. And it wasn't very comforting that they were explaining how to do our assignment the day it was due. Aka, after I handed it in. Thanks for that. Again, not exactly comforting. So now I'm kind of panicking that I might fail entirely and my professor will hate me for the rest of his life.

Which hasn't helped my morning mood. I'm hoping psychology will help a little. It generally does. I also have less time to practice after classes today because I have CJSW training today. For two hours. I hope that's entertaining. Or at least not boring.

I'm hungry, but the thought of Mac Hall between the hours of 12 and 1 scares me. So I figure I'll get food after psychology class. Which takes away even more of my practice time. And I'm supposed to learn a piece for tomorrow in Wind Ensemble. Damn.

I'm good at sight reading, right?

No, Robyn. Bad thinking. Maybe I'll look over that piece quickly before radio training...and after I eat...

Hopefully I'll get my life straightened out eventually.

Hopefully. Likely? Probably not. But hopefully.

I miss my boy. I know I'm not as bad as some. At least we're in the same city and all. But still, busy schedules happen, and here we are. So I'm just putting that out there: I miss him.

I was going to ask Mike if he had anything to add to my blog, but he left to get food. Which is probably what I should be doing.

I'm going to stop before I start going in circles, because if I start doing that I'll just never stop.


"The answer you're looking for: no."

Monday, September 15, 2008

I refuse to give in

My brother was playing WoW tonight.

He was using some fancy technology that lets him and his group talk to each other using mics and headsets and whatnot during their quest.

I came up and asked him how the geek convention was going.

He turned on the mic and said "Guys, prove to my sister that we're not geeks."

There was silence on the other end.

Then, one person:

"Define 'geek'"


"I can't find a journal article, and I don't feel like looking for one."
"Wow, that describes the last two years of my life."

Wednesday, September 10, 2008

Girlfriends against WoW

That's kind of my favorite protest sign ever.

Boy, please don't make me use one like that.

Today in theory class my teacher said this: "You don't have to be loud to be heard."

It was just being applied to using a softer dynamic in music rather than playing as loud as you can, but I still felt like it could be applied to so much more than that.

Maybe I'm crazy.

I won't be going into too much detail since I'm at Bennet's house. And he's playing WoW. So maybe if he continues playing I'll go into more detail. We'll see. Maybe if I get off my blog, he'll get off WoW sooner. =P

But I was an extremely productive university student today. I went to my three morning classes, stayed for all of music orientation, went straight from psychology to hand in my volunteer application form for CJSW, the radio station on the university campus, and I also opted out of health and dental plans at the university. Both of the latter steps were quite easy and painless, it made my day quite excellent.

I also had an awesome practice today, which I haven't had in a while. It made me very happy. I only really stopped because I don't think my reed could have taken any more.

Haha. Gutter mind.


Well, I suppose just because I'm in university doesn't mean I'll love all of my classes. Most, yes. All, apparently not. History might just kill me.

But at least it's the only class I can't really stand. Rather than high school, where there were at least three of them.

Okay, maybe just two. But still. The point remains the same.

Advice of the night: Don't die.

Hokay, once again, the time has come for me to shut up and move along. So I shall see you next time.

Rae: I love you.

Randall: I love you too.

Kelsk: I love you.

All of the above and more: I miss you all. You'd better believe me.


"What's the different between a flute player and a convertible?"

Monday, September 08, 2008

Caught in the middle

Do you ever have those moments where you suddenly look at yourself and know, I must be really annoying.

Yeah, kinda feeling that way.

And yet not. It's an odd feeling.

You know what I'm in the mood for? A heart to heart talk. Unfortunately, as I need sleep, that won't be happening anytime soon. I think I need to hold on to this feeling until an appropriate moment comes alone. Will I take that moment? That remains to be seen. I sometimes let them go by.

Why you may ask? Well, ask the part of my brain that's supposed to help me form words and tell me what to say. I can tell you, you probably won't get an answer, because that part of my brain seems to be somewhat dysfunctional.

Which is ironic, because at the same time I think I had incredible word vomit tonight. I don't think it was very pretty.

Okay, seriously, the urge for a heart to heart talk is growing, so I have to change the subject.

On another note, I think my iPod may have officially died. It looks like it's refusing to charge, which I don't believe is a good sign. I'm going to leave it for a while and if nothing happens...well damn.

Why does it seem like just when I finally figure out mostly who I am and I'm comfortable with myself and my life, both of those things seem to change?

And yet, it's also weird how I know how much both myself and my life are changing...but I'm strangely comfortable with it.

Nevertheless, it's still a good feeling.

Dear life,

I have the insane urge to have a heart to heart talk. If you could somehow give me a change to act on that urge sometime in the near, say, tomorrow afternoon for example...I would be very grateful.



"It doesn't matter how useless your part's important."

Sunday, September 07, 2008


It's the first day of the rest of my life.

Of course, that's just for dramatic effect. One could argue that tomorrow is always the first day of the rest of our lives. That's kinda just the way it works.

But that's not the point. The point is that university classes start tomorrow. I don't even know how to describe how I feel. Kind of like I've been working my way up the stairs all these years, and finally I'm at the highest diving board, and I just have to jump. Or like I've been lead around holding somebody's hand, following a strict path, and suddenly they just let go, the path ended, and I can now go anywhere I want, all on my own.

It's a great feeling, but also slightly scary. It's kind of amazing how often excitement and nervousness go together. Why is that?

As usual, I should be doing something else, but I'm sitting here chatting, blogging, and texting. In my own defense, I am simply getting as much out of my social life as I can before I become swamped and must cut myself away from the rest of society in order to keep up with my life.

I exaggerate. But only slightly.

I should be showering. Because as much as I tell myself I'll get up in the morning to shower, we all know that's not going to happen.

Kelskie just came online, which is both amazingly awesome, and kind of bad. Because I haven't talked to her in forever, and I have about a thousand things to say. Kind of bad because then I probably won't get off as early as I was planning to shower. My family doesn't mind me having really late night showers, right?

Okay, I have to go tell stories, and while I'm telling stories, I will not be able to concentrate on blogging.

This is probably long enough as it is.


"T-shirts usually go along with recreational boating."

Wednesday, September 03, 2008

Guess what

Tomorrow's Thursday! Tomorrow!

I have no idea how I'm going to get through orientation. No idea at all.

Do you think I really need to stay for all of Thursday?

Good University Student Voice: Yes, you do. There's probably some sort of tiny piece of information that's good for you. Besides, you can't get a ride down there until mother is off work anyways.

Self: But I could take transit down there! If it meant I could get there earlier!

Student Voice: No. Just stay, take in information, and then go after.

Sigh. Silly conflicts. Tomorrow better go by fast. Or at least, I'd better be semi interested in what's going on, or else all I'll do is stare at my watch. Which, contrary to popular belief, does not speed up time.

I could stay here thinking of things to write, but the time has come once again, where I must get up early in the morning.


(PS: that was sarcasm.)


"Bowser's castle looks like a casino."
"Hey, even villains have to find ways to pay the bills."

Tuesday, September 02, 2008

Happy, excited, and scared to death

And that's only the beginning of the huge range of emotions I've felt over the past little while.

But seriously, the happiness is the real constant. It's always there, even when I'm worried about panicked, or paranoid about something. It doesn't mean I'm not extremely happy about my life right now.

You know what is a scary thought?

I'm a legal adult. I am responsible for myself. I know I've been a real adult for a few months now, but still, it only really seems to be hitting me now that...I'm actually in charge of my life now. Whatever responsibility I didn't have while still in high school...I do have now.

Maybe that's partly why I'm slightly apprehensive about getting my full license, or getting a job.

And yet, on the other hand, I can't wait to do either of those, because it will just complete my being-an-adult even more.

See where I am with the whole mixed emotions thing?

I guess I'm caught between my old fear of too many changes, and my insane excitement to do more discovering of what I want to do with my life.

Not career wise. I know I'm going into music, and that's what it'll be until something happens to make it change. Which it might, I won't deny it, but for now, music's looking pretty good.

Just what I'm going to do with that I'm kind of getting pushed out there on my own.

To which all my friends laugh, and go, Robyn, you're living at home. How 'pushed out there on your own' can you be?

Alright, alright, whatever. But hopefully you'll grasp some sort of meaning from all of this that kind of makes sense.

Me, making sense. That's a good one.

Okay, let's stop while we're ahead, shall we?

I haven't been blogging much I know. I've kind of found a temporary outside source to type away my worries to for the next little while. Once I don't feel the need to send an email every night, I'll probably start blogging more.

Unless university kills me.

Which it might. I'm still keeping that possibility in mind.

Thursday!! I'm so excited!!

(PS: One downside to this whole deal is that I've been given more time to think than is really healthy. So I don't know if I'm actually discovering more emotional scars than I thought I had, or if I'm just overthinking. I'm probably just overthinking, although the first option may have some truth to it as well.)

And, as a side note, orientation was rather fun today. Why do the Fine Arts get stuck with brown shirts? And how do I know so many people in Science and Engineering? I hope they're prepared to feed me, as the starving musician.

Dear life,

If you could please speed up the space time continuum so that Thursday gets here extra quickly, I would really appreciate it.



"dmda, Fine Arts!"

Wednesday, August 27, 2008

Just one thing

I feel free.

It's insane. I saw pretty much exactly what I've seen the whole rest of the summer.

And yet my stomach didn't flip, and my mind didn't suddenly feel like going crazy. I just shrugged.

Well, actually I did more than shrug. I whisper-yelled at my computer and laughed.

Is that a sign that somebody's going insane? Who knows. But that's not the point.

The point is, that it's just hit me that I don't need to deal with this anymore.

Actually I shouldn't say that. Because that makes it sound more negative than it is.

Maybe I will have to deal with it slightly. But I don't even know that for sure yet.

Anyways, the point is (for the second time) that there is at least one tiny aspect of my life that no longer needs dealing with. And I need not waste any more mental turmoil over it.

Now for the deep cleansing breath...and the moving on with my life.

And by that, I mean moving on to an email.



"That's the perk of passing your name down for a few generations."

Tuesday, August 26, 2008

Mind implosion?

Almost. But in the best way possible, if there is such a thing.

Seriously, I'm not even sure what to say. I haven't written in my notebook in forever. one of the only reasons I'm writing this now is because I need something to draw me back into...myself? I don't know. Hopefully I'll begin to make more sense as I go along. And if not...well, hopefully getting this out, even in a completely incomprehensible way will still help me figure things out.

But don't for one second during this whole thing think that I'm upset. I am possibly the happiest person ever. Like seriously, it's awesome.

See, this is my problem. Every time I think 'you know, I should really figure this out and find out what's going on' then I sit down, and I realize how happy I really am, and then I start thinking 'well, do I really need to figure this out? Because if I'm happy, does it really matter?'

To which the logical (and also the slightly frightened) voice in my mind goes "yes, you have to figure this out! Because you've been pushed into your own little world of perfectness, and you've been living in it for the past few days! You had almost decided that you knew yourself perfectly, and you loved it, and suddenly you went and changed *again* and now that you're somebody completely different, what the heck are you going to do when you're pushed back into the world you've been ignoring, the one that includes bassoon, and university, and everything else!"

To which another answers "I'm not somebody completely different. I'm me. And that will never be able to change completely just like that. I'll always be the same person, just with variations here and there. Ignoring certain aspects of my life...that's what I do. And when I'm pushed back into it, I cope. Besides, are you really freaking out about bassoon and university because you've been ignoring them, or are you freaking out because it's only really hitting you now that you're actually going to be doing both of those things, and now that it's starting to sink in, you're starting to get nervous?"

Did that voice just say something that made a slight bit of sense? Since when does my mind make sense? That was almost deep thinking, is what that was.

Okay, so my conclusion since starting this post. I'm not going to worry. Because life will take care of me. It knows what it's doing. I know what's coming. Do I know how I'm going to deal with it? Probably not. Do I ever know how to deal with anything? Generally, no.

I blame this entirely of thinking too much. I'm always guilty of thinking too much. Over thinking, as some call it.

Why am I over thinking when I'm happy? Since when does that happen?

This is when you pat me on the head and tell me to go eat my dinner.

Because if I drag out this post any longer, I'll end up doing some serious unnecessary thinking.

Which is silly, because I'm happy. How happy? Extremely. So much so, that I'm almost reduced to not even using words anymore. Just doing this all the time:



"The ship has not sailed, but there was lots of recreational boating happening."

Monday, August 18, 2008


So, I kind of feel like the epitome of a mooch after today. Let's look at this.

I had to get a ride from my house to Sam's, which is a little of a drive. Meaning Mike drove all the way from his place, to mine, back to his place, and then proceeded to get food.

I ate said food that Mike brought. Burger plus milkshake. My choice of flavor too.

I took 40$ from Sam for doing absolutely nothing. Okay, so I handed Sam a plant, and moved another plant across the floor whilst talking about how adorable he is. Worth 40$? I think not.

I also stayed with the gang for dinner. Pizza. Which Sam bought, and I definitely didn't chip in for. Bad person, I know.

As a side note, I also kicked some serious ass at Super Smash Bros. Thank you.

And then I also got a ride home from Rae, God bless her soul.

But seriously, after all that, I came home (or rather, was thinking this in her car, on the way home) feeling really pathetic. Like, seriously considering just never going anywhere again unless I can drive there myself, or get myself there in some form or fashion that doesn't involve asking endless favors of people.

Also, after eating nothing but cereal, a burger, a milkshake, and pizza, my body is kind of hating me right now.

I also actually have to deal with university crap tomorrow, seeing as I obviously didn't do it today. Because I was mooching and filling my body with crap.

I make it sound like I felt bad the whole day. I didn't really. I had quite the blast today. It was only when I had to get back home from Bowness, preferably getting a ride from a friend, at 11:00 at night when I started to feel really bad. Especially when everybody's saying that they're not going that way, or they don't want to go that far.

On that note, I think I'm going to go deal with the fact that my body's hating me right now.

That might be a really good idea.


"Holy cow...will you look at these guys?"
"Robyn. Robyn..."
" minute..."

Saturday, August 16, 2008


Don't criticize me for saying this, but...

Is it really that important for Canada to win medals? I mean, can't we talk about how our athletes are doing without constantly mentioning how disappointing it is that we're not getting many medals?

I know that it's kind of the point of the Olympics. Compete, get medals. I know it's the main objective and whatever.

But still. I guess I kind of believe in the overall experience of all the countries in the world getting together to compete being a little more important that having to win all the medals.

I'd also like to think that the athletes who aren't getting medals will walk away from the Olympics happy that they got to experience it, and not just beating themselves up for not getting a medal.

And maybe I'm just trying to believe in my own little perfect world where everybody's happy. Which doesn't really exist. You be the judge.

But I can't be the only one, right?

On another note, I found there is a downside to wonderfully good dreams. They make me want to stay in bed all day and just relive them, over and over. Which is kind of bad in the summer, because I rarely have a real reason to get out of bed. Meaning I could actually potentially stay in bed all day. But that's not exactly healthy. Nor productive.

How am I going to be able to focus on the real world for the next week or so? I've been drifting off so much lately, it's really not funny. I'll be calling my friends a lot over the next week. Good thing I already have two parties and a movie planned. That takes care, three or four days. That'll be enough, right?


"No, I thought you were telling me to get into my right lane so I could turn left."

Friday, August 15, 2008

Last night

I had one of those moments. One of those overwhelming feelings like I wanted to pour out everything inside of myself to somebody else.

The more I think about it, the more I think that if I find myself in the perfect situation, I just want to go for it. Just start talking, and say everything I've ever wanted to express. About anything.

Maybe I was just in one of my more romantic moments. But still. I can still feel it there. It may not be as strong as it was that night, but it's still there.

On this topic, I've heard people wonder about what you do after you put yourself out there. Who are you, once you've poured out everything?

I'll still be me. Nobody can take that away from me. I firmly believe that whatever happens, I decide who I am. And if the whole world falls apart around me, I'll still be able to believe in myself. I know I'm not perfect. And I know what my imperfections are. But it's still me.

I'm just not strong enough. I'm not one of those strong people who can keep themselves completely to themselves. I'm not strong enough to act like somebody else, and yet have a whole different level of thinking going on inside. I just can't do it.

I like to connect with people. I don't like to hide myself away. I like to put myself out there.

Because that's the only way that you'll know what it feels like to fly.

I could go on. But here and now is neither the place or time to do so.

Ask me after a long walk, when we're both laying under the stars, and we've been silent for a minute or so. I've thought about it enough. I won't have to search for words. I'll have them there, and ready. And maybe by the time I do run out of words, you'll understand.

At least a little bit.


"I know, you always have to wonder when your friends start bringing you to family events."

Wednesday, August 13, 2008

Word Vomit

You know of word vomit, right? When you just keep talking and talking, and your head knows that nothing you're saying has any meaning to anything, or really any point, and you know that the person hearing it doesn't care, and you know that somewhere along the line you're probably going to say something you shouldn't or that you may regret later, and yet you just keep talking, and talking?

Yeah, that's me sometimes. If you hear me starting to fall into word vomit, please help. Don't just sit there and listen to me go on, and on, because the more you don't attempt to help me with other conversation, the more I'll just keep going.

And it's not pleasant, because my head is screaming at me to shut up, and yet I don't. So the sooner you jump in and help, the sooner my head can stop screaming at me, and start thanking you. So it's a win-win situation, really.

In other news.

My head is about to explode. Whether it'll explode in the form of word vomit, or via emotions, or literally just blow up, I'm not sure yet. But I feel like it's coming, and I'm not really sure what to do to either delay it, or prevent it from doing so.

I have about six thousand voices going on up there, compared to the two dozen I usually have.

I'm trying to ignore all of them, but I'm not sure how long I'll be able to keep that up.

As such, it's making it very hard to focus on one thing at a time.


"I've got all the fiber I need right here."

Monday, August 11, 2008

Hey you

Yes, you.

We need to hang out.

Call me?

There's about a 95% chance that I'll be free when you call.

I'd say those are good odds.

So do it.


"Are you guys twins or something?"
"No, we're closer than twins."
"Oh, so you're related."

Friday, August 08, 2008


My brother and I were walking the dogs today.

I forget how the topic came about, but I ended up asking how it happened that red became the colour that symbolized both anger and love.

He replied with, 'maybe anger and love often come hand in hand.'

It's interesting he should say that.

Remind you of anything, Kelsk?

On another note, I'm getting more restless as the days go on. I need an adventure. And not necessarily that adventure in my most recent of stories. Just an adventure in general. Something to get me out of the house.

I'm also in love in the Mid-evil times. In case anybody is at all interested in that.

I also love Feste, Sir Robin, and minstrels.

Sir Robin is more of an 'in theory' love. I love him because it's funny. But, I'm sorry Robin dearest, it could never work between us. My occasional need for adventure and your...well, it just wouldn't work.

Do you think I could be a pirate, only with vodka instead of rum?

As for Feste, his is a cross between real love and the love of a role model.

I've been thinking about what Andrew said, about life being a fine balance. I'm not sure if I've had that all along, and whether I'll screw it up trying to get to where I already am...

But whatever.

I'll figure it all out sometime.

For right now, I'd be content with figuring one thing out. Hopefully sooner, rather than later, for my own sanity more than anything else. Is it time to take things into my own hands? I'm kind of afraid it is. I've never really been good at that. Maybe I'll attempt to get the ball rolling, and hope that after that it just continues rolling gently down the hill until everything's sorted out.

Hopefully the ball will not get caught on a rock shortly after being pushed down said hill and deflates, nor will it gather speed until it spins wildly out of control and is forever lost to all humanity.

Anyone wanna place any bets?

And Rae, I've been meaning to ask you on an update on this since I've gotten back from camp: have I lost money?

Yet another reason we have to get together. Seriously. =)

I love you.

All of you.


"Bravely bold Sir Robin
Rode forth from Camelot.
He was not afraid to die,
Oh brave Sir Robin.
He was not at all afraid
To be killed in nasty ways.
Brave, brave, brave, brave Sir Robin.

He was not in the least bit scared
To be mashed into a pulp.
Or to have his eyes gouged out,
And his elbows broken.
To have his kneecaps split
And his body burned away,
And his limbs all hacked and mangled
Brave Sir Robin.

His head smashed in
And his heart cut out
And his liver removed
And his bowls unplugged
And his nostrils raped
And his bottom burnt off
And his penis split

"That's...that's enough music for now, lads."


Brave Sir Robin ran away.
Bravely ran away away.
("I didn't!")
When danger reared it's ugly head,
He bravely turned his tail and fled.
Yes, brave Sir Robin turned about
("I didn't!")
And gallantly he chickened out.

Bravely taking ("I never did!") to his feet,
He beat a very brave retreat.
("all lies!")
Bravest of the braaaave, Sir Robin!
("I never!")

Saturday, August 02, 2008

Just so you know I'm alive

Imagine I'm really tired.

Now, remember that mumbling nonsense noise I make when I don't have any effort and/or energy to spare on anything?

And now imagine me not even having the effort and/or energy to make that noise.

There's my post for the night.

I was mentioned in three different blogs sometime in the past few days. I feel special.

I'll call within the next few days. I promise.

For now...



"One band, one sound."

Friday, July 18, 2008

Blogging after a few

And by a few, I mean two.

Not that that's a lot, but I can still feel it a little.

I don't usually do this. Blog at this time, after a few, I mean.

I just felt the need to say that I can't decide if having a couple was a good idea or not.

Actually, I can. Considering...and also...

Yes and yes.

So I'm okay.

Bed now.

(PS: I'm not as bad as I probably seem right now.)


"Long or short?"
"Long. ;)"

Wednesday, July 16, 2008


You know that feeling you get when you finally get the chance to approach or talk to somebody you think is amazing, and you admire and respect and all that jazz - and it's so obvious that they really couldn't care less about you even though you might think the world of them?

I hate that feeling. It's so utterly disappointing.

I hope I never become like that. I hope that if I ever become somebody that other people look up to, or have any reason to be excited about having the chance to talk to me, I hope I'll take the time to have a chat with them and not just brush them off.

I know moments will probably come when I do that. I know there have probably been moments like that already. But I really hope I don't do it on purpose. And I really hope I never will, and I'll recognize when somebody really wants to talk and I'll take the time at least give them a decent hello, or something. Not just brush them away.

It's one of those moments that you experience with somebody, and your first thought is 'I hope I'm never like that.'

Does anybody else get those, or is it just me?


"Well, there is less cartoon violence here than on the computer. At least they don't plummet to the ground and get squashed into a puddle of their own blood."

Tuesday, July 15, 2008


Why are all the most comfortable positions generally the most unattractive ones as well?

It's unfortunate, really.


"Band camp is my spa."

Monday, July 14, 2008

Hello again

I'm going to attempt to avoid a blog like last time's. Partially to give you all a break, because I'm sure every time you see post that long you make sure you have a snack and a comfortable seat to see you through it. Also because any kind of thinking that I would do tonight would not be comforting. I know this because I've almost delved into it a few times, and I've found nothing overly positive. Not that it's super negative either it's just...well, again, not the kind of thinking that I really wish to go into at the moment.

This kind of thinking is familiar to me. It's the 'Robyn, you're starting to think way too much and too seriously about life because you've been away from your friends for far too long. So go out there and get a life.' kind of thinking.

I think I shall do that.

I also have a random tiny spot on my hand where the skin has been pulled off. It's kind of starting to get really painful, which doesn't really make sense because it's so extremely tiny and doesn't even look that serious. But it hurts.

I even know when it happened. I ran my hand into the wall. Go me, I know.

Anyways, life getting. Yes. I'm going to call Henry to get together, because he was stolen from me for Stampede. Same with Kelsk, because I don't think anybody in the world understands how much I need to talk with her. Hang with her. Just generally be with her. Everything.

I would have called both of them today, but I figured I'd give them a day to recover before starting my endless cries for attention.

I'm not going to lie. I actually really want to just hang with friends for the rest of this week before I head off for camp. Which is slightly ironic, because I also need to practice every day of this week to get my embouchure back before band camp. Hm...I'll fit it all in somehow. I really hope. Because going to camp with absolutely no mouth would not be a good thing. Not that camp won't fix that anyways. It always does. By the end of those two weeks, I could play for 24 hours and not have a blown mouth. Which is also ironic how I always stop playing immediately after camp to send my bassoon away for it's yearly check up.

Which is making me really nervous, because they're saying it'll take a while to do, and I'm like, yeah, about that, I kind of need it back for school. Because starting university without a bassoon...not so good.

So yes, quite worried about that. But...actually at the moment I can't really think of anyway to cheer myself up about that. My mom seems to know what we can do to do our best to make sure it gets back...but still...

I'm trying to remember how long it took last time, and of course I can't, because I never keep track of these things. And always regret it later. Well, not regret. Just vaguely wish I had. As it is, the only thing I remember is that it took longer than I wanted it to. Which isn't exactly comforting in this situation.

Maybe I'll message my bassoon friends with this problem. I wonder if any of them will have any good advice. Or at least comforting thoughts. We'll see.

Arg. Various emotions going on about this situation and none of them are quite as positive as I would like them to be.

Aha. Okay, one thing to make me feel better: in a week, I'll be off to camp and hopefully camp will keep my mind off it for at least two weeks. And even if it can't keep my mind completely off it, there's not exactly anything I could do about it while at camp, so hopefully I won't be worrying about it.

Not that there's anything I can do now. But whatever.

Ack. I also really should do at least a little work on reeds before I go to camp. I've really been asking too much of my reed for the longest time now, and I can tell it just wants me to put it down and let it rest in peace.

I also need to start breathing. Just because I've started to play bassoon again does not mean I need to bring all the old stress back with it.

Is that starting to be a reaction? Am I starting to associate bassoon with stress? Because that would definitely not be a good thing. I'll work on that.

Pressure on me from myself is also a big thing that tends to come back with bassoon. I should work on that as well.

I'm also slipping back into my overthinking thing. Let's not do that.

I'm off to distract myself with various things because I go to bed. Wish me luck.


"Wow. I didn't think it was possible, but you actually managed to die sooner than you did last time."

Sunday, July 13, 2008

Just when I thought I was better

I am currently sitting in my room, having just turned the lights on after watching a spectacular lightning show, with my laptop in front of me, listening to the rain still pelting the roof and the street.

I can definitely hear both the sound of the rain hitting the room, and the rain hitting the street. They are quite distinct from each other, and yet they still have a likeness that you wouldn't separate from each other unless you were really thinking about it.

I'm going to warn you right now. I'm not sure whether I am going to make sense this time around. If indeed, I ever really do make any sense. I actually spent ten minutes tonight even wondering whether I should blog or not.

I didn't really want to blog because, as stated above, I wasn't sure if it would even make sense to anybody. I also kind of want to talk about stuff that I definitely do not want to say in a blog. And I'm also in one of my moods where I feel like I have so much stuff going on in my head that it would be futile to attempt to organize and present all those things in an acceptable manner. What an acceptable manner is, I'm not sure. Interpret as you will.

Hm. Another stolen phrase. How interesting.

Except not, because my life is pretty much made up of stolen phrases.

Except that one in particular is interesting. Because it goes under the same category as so many of my stolen phrases.

I could overthink this concept to death, except I already know what it means, without any deep thinking or philosophic reason. It's simply that I deeply respect said person and it happens to be somebody who I've always wanted to be more like, or think on a similar level to. Part of my attempt of accomplishing that is stealing phrases.

Such is my life.

That's also something that I could think about. But I think I've gone off on a random subject enough for now. Where was I...let's get back on track, shall we?

I did want to blog because...well, why not, really. Which is my reason for doing many a thing, and I tend to highly resent the people who don't think that's a logical reason. Life would not be nearly as enjoyable were it solely made up of logic. It would be a more sensible place in many respects, but perhaps not always as enjoyable.

I can see various flaws in that theory, and yet still a few truths. I am in a thinking mood tonight, aren't I? I'll tell you what I'm really in the mood for: I really want to just go out with somebody and relax somewhere. Preferably under the stars, or by water, be it still or running, or perhaps even inside after a storm, as I am now. Those are usually the best times for thinking. For me. I want to relax with said somebody, and just think, and just say and explain everything I'm thinking, or dreaming, or believing in at the moment. I want to completely pour myself out there without any fears or doubts.

That's what I want to do.

And of course everybody who knows me really well is going, excuse me Robyn, you know what would really happen. You would sit down with said somebody, open your mouth to say all that, realize that your stupid brain can't find words to say all that, and then change the subject to something dumber and less deep and on a level of which you can actually find words for.

Maybe that's true. Maybe I want to try to get better with words. Maybe by sitting down and at least attempting to talk about all of that would help me become better.

Of course, said somebody would have to be willing to put up with a lot of pauses while I search through my mind for a way to say things. I'm not sure everybody likes to put up with that.

But again, I stray from my original point.

That is actually another reason why I wanted to blog. Because I am really in the mood to just explain myself fully, and put myself out there for the world, whether that be good or bad.

However, the downside to that is, I'm not prepared to do that on a blog. But at least I've put the thought out there, so everybody reading this will know that I was, at some point, prepared to do this. The chances that I'm prepared to do it the next time you see me are slim. But now you know that I do in fact have these moments.

For the last little while I've really wanted to just have a conversation with another dreamer. I walk around my house at night (for I generally think better when I walk or pace) and I go through all my thoughts, beliefs, and dreams, both night and day dreams. I think of things that other people may find ridiculous, but I find wonderful. I believe in things that can't possibly be real, and yet I still believe in them.

And I find myself wondering if anybody else does this. Sometimes I feel all alone in my strange world, and it seems like everybody around me is a realist.

I don't know if I'd rather be a realist or not. Maybe I'd get more done. Maybe I'd actually start focusing on what's really important, instead of living in my own little world all the time.

Would I enjoy life as much? I don't know yet.

The little voice in my head who always seems to know the real reason I do things, even if I don't know them, is telling me that I'm writing this for a very specific person.

I know. I'm not even going to try to argue that fact. The chances of them reading this? Slim. The chances of them knowing this if I never even put it out there? None. It's a start, right?

And after a little talking on msn I believe I've been pulled out of my 'put myself out there' mood. Now I'm just me. And my mind is beginning to fail at thinking of things to write on my blog.

Which is probably for the best. This is long enough as it is.

I need to start hanging out with my friends more. That always keeps me out of this mood.

Anyways, I'm going to end this, because if I attempt to keep going I'll just end up going in circles. You've had your daily dose of Robyn's mind, which is probably more than you wanted anyways.

If you're wondering what I do during these phases of mine, I generally pace around the house, running through conversations with my various selves and playing scenarios I've made up for myself in my head.

Along with other things. But those have their own time and place to be explained, and it is neither now, nor here.


"Did you guys take the dogs for a walk?"
"Nope. The ice cream man came to our house today."

Saturday, July 12, 2008


Yeah. I got a couple airbrush tattoos at Stampede. I like them. =)

Is it bad that I suddenly felt the urge to get a real tattoo based on the look and response of my uncle when he saw them?

Is it also bad that I want to live life the way I want to, and be completely happy, just to rub it in his face, and show him it is possible to be happy in life, and not regret every single decision I've made?

I swear I'm not living my entire life just to spite my uncle. I only do when he happens to be in the room.


"Now, what did we learn this week that we can bring home and contribute to our family and community?"

Thursday, July 10, 2008

Alright, guys

I think I've finally figured it out. At least for now.

At this moment, I am calm. Which I'm sure is probably a great relief for everybody who's had a put up with my random panicked shpeals about nothing.

So, after many a conversation with myself ["Um, Self, really? I don't think so."], a good heart to heart talk with my emotions ["You know it's true."], many an argument with logic ["Does this seem like a logical situation to you? Learn to make an appearance when you're actually needed."], and a random and unwelcome appearance from my overly cautious side ["What? Who let you in here?"], I have finally accepted the fact that I know as much as I can know at the moment, and there's no use worrying about what I don't know until it comes to it. And even then I shouldn't worry about what's going to happen, because really, it's a win-win situation either way.

As a side note, I still blame Logic for letting Overly Cautious in. It just seems like something he'd do.

That being over and done with, I am currently sitting on my bed with Champ beside me. He's good company, no matter what mood you're in. And he's so cute.

Did I ever tell you about the time I took a nap with him? Not kidding. I was so tired, I forget why. Probably the end of the semester or something. I came into my bedroom and he's already lying on my bed. So I lay down beside him, with his back against my chest, and put my arm over him and doze for a while. Exactly when the transfer from dozing to sleeping occurred, I'm not sure. But I definitely woke up 45 minutes later and we were both in the exact same position.

Today was a pretty lazy day. Champ never got overly excited whenever I walked around, because it was pretty lousy outside. Cloudy, windy, the whole nine yards. He knew there was no way I was taking him for a walk in that weather. I love you sweetie, but I don't love wind. Plus, the last time we went for a walk when it was super cloudy, we got hailed on. So we just cruised inside today.

He did get a little spooked when the thunder started. But by the time it really got up, Uncle Chester was home to distract him, so that was okay.

Yes, Champ. I know you love to have your belly rubbed. But I'm blogging. Give me a minute.

Today I was eating my pizza pop (why I still have pizza pops when I have endless time to make a real meal, I have no idea), and I always give him my plate with the various pizza fillings that escaped. He knows I always give it to him, so he's sitting nearby while I'm on the couch, reading the paper and eating. When I finish, I put the plate on my lap and call him over. Now, I very very rarely give him food for free. It just doesn't happen.

So I tell him to put his head down. A usual request when I'm too lazy to make him do a real trick. He knows that this move is most effective when he puts his head on me (whether it's my leg, knee, stomach, etc. depends on the situation), and put his ears forward, because I'm always more likely to give him food when he looks cute. He knows this. He can be stupid, but he's not that stupid.

However, with the plate already on my lap, this makes things difficult. I tell him to put his head down. He glances first at me, then the plate, which is already only 2 inches from his nose, before looking casually somewhere else in the room.

I don't blame him. That plate was already very close, and I could tell it was tempting, especially as he knew he was going to get it anyways. But I trust him, and I was pretty sure he could find a way to put his head down and still resist the plate.

I tell him again to put his head down. Again, he looks at me, glances at the plate, and casually attempts to look away. Again, I say to put his head down.

So finally he turns towards me, puts his head down as far away as he possibly can from the plate, which means putting his head far up on my lap, so he's actually pressing against my stomach, and stares straight ahead. Even if you didn't even know him, you would be able to tell he was obviously trying not to think about the plate an inch away from his head.

Now, how can all of that not be completely adorable. He definitely earned his treat.

And now his paw is moving. Oh, and his nose too. He's so cute when he dreams. =)


"Oh, are you sure all you want to take is the jingly balls? You sure you wouldn't like...say...all of this furniture?"

Wednesday, July 09, 2008

Quick question

For everyone who understands this:

Is it really that obvious? Or is it just because you know me really well? And if it is obvious, should I be worried about how obvious it is?

I'm not kidding. These are not rhetorical questions. I really want to know. Please let me know.


"Sometimes I can hardly even believe that we're related."

Tuesday, July 08, 2008


It's not a very creative title, but seems appropriate for this post.

However, before I go into that, I must express the fact that - *Statement deleted because of Chloe. Blame her.*

That's all I'm going to say about that.

Other than the fact that I really need to think about things before I do them.

Now, moving on.

I went out to Banff with Mike, Liz, and Elly today.

Momentary facebook check...sorry, *Ellie*. Now that that's off my conscious...

It was really a lot of fun. Good bassoon talk (which I also kinda felt way too over my head for me to actually participate in...but it was still cool to listen to), good general hanging out and talking and catching up. All very nice.

The concert was very awesome. It started with a violin concerto that I've never heard before, but I really enjoyed it. And that's saying something. I don't usually like to listen to violin. But I did like it. I didn't even mind the musician's movements that went along with it.

I'm starting to become more tolerable about musician's moving to the music. I used to hate it, as there's not really any point, and I found it annoying. And to a certain extent, I kind of still do find it annoying, but only when it seems like the musician is going out of their way to move. To look more artistic, or something. Whatever the purpose of that would be.

But I'm starting to find it interesting, and to a point, enjoyable, to watch musician's move as they play, as long as it doesn't look forced. I love watching people really get into the music they're playing. But in a completely natural way. Not in a 'look, I'm moving so I must obviously be very into my piece' sort of way. That's where it gets annoying.

The viola ensemble was also really cool. I forgot my program in Liz's car, but there must have been about 12 violas. There was one guy I could not take my eyes off of. Most of the time he looked like he was just frowning as he played. But if you watched him, you'd see he'd raise his eyebrows in an amused way at certain parts, and then the next moment there'd be the hint of a smile at the corners of his mouth. His face was very expressive if you took the time to watch him.

And then they finished with Bugler's Holiday. On viola. Yeah. Personally, I think it's better on trumpet. Or bassoon (everything's better on bassoon). However, I can't deny that it was definitely amusing hearing a fanfare that is so obviously meant for trumpet being played by viola. It is definitely a little different. Leaves something to be desired, as one might say.

Of course, one might say the same thing when hearing that you can actually get a performance degree on euphonium. But that's a different story.

Then the bassoons. Oh the bassoons. Nine of them, plus a contra. Quite an awesome sound. It was great listening to all the them blend, and yet come out with their own individual sound at the same time.

Listening to this ensemble made me realize something. I can never quit music. Though I shouldn't say it that way.

Rather, I will never quit music.

I haven't practiced for a little over two weeks now. And watching those bassoonists play, and listening to it, I already felt like I regretted letting those two weeks go by without playing my bassoon. I felt like I had wasted so much time, and at that moment I couldn't understand why I had even wanted to put it down in the first place.

Overall, my feelings were that I missed my bassoon. A lot. I missed the familiar shape my mouth instinctively makes when I put a reed in my mouth. The feeling of playing a new piece of music and my brain, my fingers, my mouth, everything just works together to make the sound I need to make, and play what I need to play. The way that everything in life just doesn't seem that important when I'm sitting with my bassoon and working on a piece. Or scales. Or anything.

I won't lie, it didn't exactly renew my excitement for reed making. But we'll think about that one later. Back to the more wonderful thoughts.

As I was sitting there, realizing how much I've missed all this, I wondered how much stronger this feeling was if I wasn't just taking a break from music. If I had actually dropped it. How it would feel if I hadn't played for two years, rather than two weeks.

I won't lie, I can easily imagine, at that point, even if I was into some degree that could make me more money than I ever dreamed of, I would still drop everything and just pick up bassoon again.

So I'm going to start practicing again. I knew I would soon anyways. But it's nice to have something to remind you how much you love it. Although I knew that feeling would come back too. It always does after I take a break. I finally convince myself I have to get to it again, and I always feel a little sad that I have to get to work as I start putting my bassoon together.

But after I'm sitting down with it, and playing through something, anything, warm-ups, scales, a piece...I start to wonder how I ever could have felt disappointed about starting up again. I'm always reminded of how much I love this.

That's probably why breaks are healthy. Because a few weeks ago I was starting to question whether I could even make it as a musician. I was so tired of playing, and I didn't want to do it...I was just putting myself down, because if I don't want to practice, how could I ever be a musician?

Then when I get back into it, I know that I don't want to do anything else. How could I want to do anything else? I love music.

This feeling will usually last me for another year. Then it'll be time to take another break.

It's a healthy cycle, yes? Well, for now at least.

And I'm perfectly fine with that. I'm lucky that something's working out for me, even if it's only for now. It's more then I can say for some other things happening in my life right now.

I shouldn't say that. It makes things seem worse than they really are. Life right now is pretty good actually. Quite good, really. I just won't deny that they could be a little better.

To be perfectly honest, I'm almost in the mood to expand on my opening, out-of-nowhere comment that I made. But something (I believe it's the voice in my head that I've named Logic) is telling me it's a better idea not too.

"There's a better time, place, and person to explain those things to, and none of those include now, here, and on your blog."

Very wise words, logic. That's why I keep you around. Now where were you last night?

"...I took a coffee break."

Yeah. Thanks for that. I'm off to have a word with Logic about these so called 'coffee breaks' and why they're not allowed. At least not when the rest of me isn't having one.


"So I'm completely drunk, having been drinking beer and tequila shots all day, and my orchestra conductor's trying to talk to me about tomorrow's rehearsal times."

Monday, July 07, 2008

Story time

A long long time ago, in a galaxy far far away...

Nope...both of those are wrong.

Once upon a time...

No. That infers that it's going to be some kind of fairy tale. It's not really.

There once was a girl named Robyn...

Sounds like the beginning of a limerick...and if you think I'm telling this entire story in limerick form, you've got another thing coming...

Okay, nevermind the beginning. The point is, I actually have a somewhat interesting story to tell today. True story. Happened to a friend of a friend of mine.

Me (befriended to) *insert friend here* (befriended to) Me.

For example, Rae's my friend, and I'm her friend. Therefore, a friend of a friend of mine could in fact be myself.


So my brother's gone to some summer acting camp. Fun stuff, and I get the house to myself. Which is all well and dandy. But now I need to bug myself to walk the dogs, rather than him doing that for me. By the time I figure I should walk the dogs, there are super dark clouds just over Nose Hill. They really don't look friendly. But the sun is still out, so I figure that maybe they just look worse than they really are, and it'll all just pass over without doing anybody any harm.

I make all the necessary preparations, and we're off for a walk. Of course, just after I leave, the lightening and thunder starts. Oh well. I'm a fan of lighting and thunder. The clouds are still looking a tad ominous, but whatever.

I take my favorite path to take on Nose Hill, which is the path that winds through the bottom of the little valley that goes through the hill for a while. So I do that. About halfway down the valley I find one of those little stick forts that we used to find. Usually they're in tepee form, but this one looks like a little house, high enough for you to stand up in, and probably about four square feet of room in it. Not bad. It's neat. I go check it out, since I've never seen one built in this part of the valley before. Then I move on.

As I'm walking, it starts to rain. I like rain. Then it rains harder. Since the lighting and thunder started, Champ has stuck very close to me, walking right in front of me and slowing to look back at me every few seconds or so. I've had to encourage him to keep walking almost the entire time. And the raindrops are getting a little bigger, and even slightly solid (as I can see a few slush-drops land on Champ) so I just tell him to keep moving and we'll just hang out under the next bunch of trees for a while. Which doesn't come for quite a ways, but whatever.

The next bunch of trees happens to be the end of the valley, where I usually walk up and around the hill before going back down. Now, I'm not a paranoid person, but even so, I of of a hill...maybe not the best mix. It's still only raining, so I call Champ and give Dex a shout, and we turn to walk back home by the way we came.

A little ways back, the rain starts pelting. Like, really pelting. I put my sleeves (which are totally soaked, and about two inches longer than they usually are) over the back of my neck, because it's starting to sting when the rain hits it. And I start to see little bits of ice bouncing off the ground. I like being out in storms as much as anybody else, but being out, with an unprotected neck and head in the hail? Hm, not so much. So I hurry along the path back to that little wood fort I saw earlier.

Not that it's much shelter. It's not like it has a real roof, just a bunch of logs and sticks. But it does stop the hail from pelting speed, and reduces it to more of a gentle dropping speed. Which is for sure nicer. Dexy's still walking around and exploring, but Champ's super close to me by this point. At one point I feel him leaning against me as we're sitting through the hail storm, and he is sitting behind me, with his head pressed against the side of my leg, and he's quivering with every fiber of his being. Poor guy.

I put my hand (or rather, dripping wet sleeve) on his head, and chat to him, call him by his various nicknames and joke around and laugh, and eventually he calms down. By calms down, I mean he just stops quivering within every inch of his life. Which is a start.

After a while (hail never really lasts too long) it slows down, and it gets a little lighter. I wait until I'm positive it's no longer hailing, and only raining, before I suggest to the dogs that we head home. Champ's still nervous, even though there's no hail, lightning, or thunder, but that's okay. He sticks close to me the whole way home. Dexy couldn't care less.

I wasn't only soaked by the end of this walk. I was wet to the point where I could not be any wetter. I hit my maximum wetness by the time I got to the end of the valley, so you can only imagine what it was like when I actually got home. You could have pushed me into a pool and I would not have come out any wetter than before.

All in all, good time. Three of us when up the hill, three of us came back. All's well that ends well I suppose. And it was really fun. I wouldn't have minded having somebody to share the experience with, as long as they're like me, and have no problem with being out in storms and hail and rain and such.

I had some good conversations with Champ. Which is always healthy every once in a while.


"She won't mind if you couldn't see her. Their goal is to make everybody look pretty much the same."

Sunday, July 06, 2008

Multiple personalities

Okay, so since I am currently unable to sum up myself as a whole at the moment, I figure I'll just let all the various things going on in my head speak for themselves, and then you can come to your own conclusions. Deal?


Also, I'm too lazy to come up with names for all of them this time, so just assume that every time I start a new paragraph, it's a new thought / voice / whatever.

Starting now.

And of course as soon as I say all that, everything in my head decides to shut up.

New plan: I am going to say everything I am thinking in as short and blunt a way as possible.


It sucks that practically no old MusiCamp friends are coming back this year. I need to start practicing. I really wanted to call you tonight, and the urge to do so is getting stronger. I shall succumb to said urge by the end of the week. Just so you are warned. I don't feel like thinking about university at all until at least August. Late August if I can pull it off. If I wasn't afraid of wind I'd have the urge to go on a late night walk, but it's windy, so I'll have to be content with pacing around the house. Which is quickly becoming a habit, I'm not sure if that's good or bad. I feel really bad about snapping at people, or panicking for something that's not worth panicking about. I can't decide if I'm talkative, or not talkative at all tonight.

Why do I always feel like I'm at two completely different ends of a spectrum? I'm either extremely happy, or really not. I either take life too seriously, or not seriously enough. I either want to talk a lot, or not at all. I'm either overly optimistic, or overly pessimistic.

The list goes on. I have a feeling I should stop writing now. I'm not sure why.


"Is that a really round about way of saying I love you?"

Thursday, July 03, 2008


These are all taken from


- having qualities that give great pleasure or satisfaction to see, hear, think about, etc.; delighting the senses or mind:

- wonderful; very pleasing or satisfying

- wonderful; fantastic


- the quality present in a thing or person that gives intense pleasure or deep satisfaction to the mind, whether arising from sensory manifestations (as shape, color, sound, etc.), a meaningful design or pattern, or something else (as a personality in which high spiritual qualities are manifest)

- an individually pleasing or beautiful quality; grace; charm

Do any of these definitions include how skinny somebody is? How small their jean size is? How much eyeshadow, or cover-up they use? What designer brand they're wearing, or how expensive their dress is?

Then why are there still people who think these are the things that define beauty?

I was going to blog about love, but I've also been thinking about doing this for a while now. So I'll save that for next time. Unless you think that I talk about love way too much, then I'll shut up on the subject.

Or rather, I'll tell you I will, and then eventually just post on it anyways. Because it's my blog.

And I'm both a hopeless romantic and a dreamer. Deal with it.


"What would you do
If I sang out of tune,
Would you try
To shoot me in the face?"

Tuesday, July 01, 2008

Extremely restless

If somebody, at some point, wants to grab a knife, come to my house, and just cut out my uterus, that would be fine by me.

Heck, come without a knife, you can use one of mine.

I hate cramps with a passion.

Current physical status: see title
Current psychological status: undetermined
Current emotional status: annoyed at cramps, but otherwise see above status

As you can tell, I'm still waiting.

I could go on about something, but I have a feeling it may be misinterpreted by some, and at the moment I don't feel like taking that risk. Even though I haven't cared in previous blogs, but this time is different.

I'll raise this issue on a later date. If I forget, remind me.

On a side note, I saw Wall-E today. Adorable movie, it's great. The first Pixar movie to make me cry. Twice. =P


"Well, in this game we don't have Supermarkets. We get our red crayons by digging them up at the dump."

Monday, June 30, 2008

Waiting for further developments

I'll let you know.


"My smile is stapled onto my face. But the staples are real gold!"

Saturday, June 28, 2008

Dirty Little Secret

Let me know that I've done wrong
When I've known this all along
I go around a time or two
Just to waste my time with you

Tell me all that you've thrown away
Find out games you don't wanna play
You are the only one that needs to know

I'll keep you my dirty little secret
(Dirty little secret)
Don't tell anyone or you`ll be just another regret
(Just another regret, hope that you can keep it)
My dirty little secret
Who has to know

When we live such fragile lives
It's the best way we survive
I go around a time or two
Just to waste my time with you

Tell me all that you've thrown away
find out games you don't wanna play
you are the only one that needs to know

I'll keep you my dirty little secret
(Dirty little secret)
Don't tell anyone or you'll be just another regret
(Just another regret, hope that you can keep it)
My dirty little secret

Who has to know
The way she feels inside (inside)
Those thoughts I can't deny (deny)
These sleeping dogs won't lie (won't lie)
And now I try to lie
It's eating me apart
Trace this life out

I'll keep you my dirty little secret
(Dirty little secret)
Don't tell anyone or you'll be just another regret
(Just another regret)

I'll keep you my dirty little secret
(Dirty little secret)
Don't tell anyone or you'll be just another regret

I'll keep you my dirty little secret
Don't tell anyone or you'll be just another regret
(Just another regret, just another regret, hope that you can keep it)
My dirty little secret
Dirty little secret
Dirty little secret

Who has to know?
Who has to know?

- The All-American Rejects


"I'm going to a party at Sam's house tomorrow. And I'll be staying the night because it's one of those kinds of parties..."
"Really? I'm not sure if I approve of such parties."
"But...I've gone to these kinds of parties before."
"Yes, I know, I was just attempting to fill the role of a responsible parent."

Thursday, June 26, 2008

The long and winding road

"There are many twists and turns in the road of life. Many bends to go around. And this road takes you many places. Many places. The road of life may bring you to places that you never really expect to go. And eventually the road of life will bring you to the gas station of life. And the gas station in life will help you along, and be a stopping point when you need it. And then it will also bring the bathroom of life. Many interesting things may happen in this bathroom, and it could possibly change your life. [I'm going to lose my virginity and morals in a bathroom?] But then you return to the road of life, and all the turns and bends that come with it. And this road of life will take you many places, and through many places (for instance, Banff)[Which, is the the STD capitol, by the way]. And through all this, the road may be difficult and hold dangers [like STDs?] and you must look after your tires and get them through it. [I have to check my tires for STDs?]. Remember to change them seasonally and check their air pressure. [I should change boyfriends seasonally?] [Is anybody actually following this?] [Not really.] [I stopped listening.] [I definitely got lost.] [What's going on?]"

-Elliot's attempted...supportive? motivational? encouraging? inspirational? for Rae, narrated ( [ ] ) by the rest of us, Kees, Rae, Miranda, Sam, and myself.


"I am man! I have testicular power!"

Wednesday, June 25, 2008

Something about fire

Why do we take life so seriously?

It's just silly.

Maybe because it's easier than trying to convince ourselves it's no big deal.


"That'll be next on my blog: Abstinence and the City."

Saturday, June 21, 2008


I want to tell you about walking with nowhere to go.

I want to tell you about how rash I am, and how I don't want to be judged because of it.

I want to tell you about that moment when all my emotions explode out of me.

I want to tell you about the moment after, when suddenly all those voices in my head stop, and I'm all alone.

I want to tell you about the silence that doesn't need to be filled.

I want to tell you about the smell of pollen and dandelion spores.

I want to tell you about the doe who looked at me.

I want to tell you about how reality isn't always as realistic as we think it is.

I want to tell you about how I was always expecting you to run into me, and we could just talk for hours on end.

I want to tell you about my views, dreams, and beliefs about life.

I want to tell you everything I've gone through, and how it's made me who I am right now.

I want to tell you everything.

But I won't. It can't be explained in a blog.

Even if you really want to know, enough so that you remember this blog when you see me next, and we're all alone, and you say 'Robyn, tell me about everything you mentioned', I won't.

I'll want to. But I'll just look you in the eyes, and open my mouth to say it all.

And then that familiar barrier between me and words will materialize again, and even though I may have known what I wanted to say when I thought about it from a distance, once it really comes to it, I'll lose it.

It happens every time.

So I'll just close my mouth, and smile, and make some excuse, like how I was in a weird mood when I wrote this. Then I'll change the subject to something simple that I can keep up with in conversation.

My one comfort is that I'm learning how to tell you everything. I promise I am. And one day, I swear I will actually tell you.

It'll be dark. And even though there may be other people in the room...tens, hundreds, thousands...I'll feel all alone.

But I'll welcome the solitude. Because it won't be real solitude. It'll be everything finally coming together.

I'll be up there. The light will come on. And I'll begin my story.

Which story I'll tell will be different every time. But I'll tell it. And I won't be using words. That would be too limiting for everything I want to say. Besides, I already said I'm no good with words.

There will be no words. But you'll understand. Finally, after years of learning how to convey emotions, and tell tales, I'll be able to make you understand. I'll open up and pour everything out to you.

Providing you're willing to listen to the starving musician on that stage, with dreams too big for life itself.


"Never give up on your music."