Culloden III and...a compliment?

For State Festival in 2007, our Wind Symphony played a piece called Culloden III (interesting sidenote about Culloden: it has a section in it that's called "Ye hag, ye've gone and kil't me!". Also, it produced this funny poem from Mr. Bowman: "My bonny lass, she doesn't smell. She bakes good bread, and is really good to me". Okay, it was really funny at the time).

ANYway, there is a part in Culloden where the oboe and Eb clarinet get to play a little duet (is it just me, or did that rhyme?). Of course, I got the privilege of playing the Eb clarinet. Because I love having my own little solos and duets and such.

Now, the Eb clarinet I had to play on was weird. It was old, the keys were bent funny and pads were falling off right and left, and the reeds were old and hard and just lame. But let's be honest: it wasn't all the clarinet's fault. I just wasn't very good at playing that baby clarinet.

Anyway, we went to state, played our song, Matt and I played our duet, and I thought it went fairly well. You know, it was okay.

A week or two later in band, we were listening to the tapes of the judges listening to and critiquing our performance. I was nervous to hear what the judge had to say about our little gem of a duet. We got to that part of the music. Matt and I held our breath, waiting to hear what the judge would say. Finally...

"Well...yeah, that's good. You're supposed to sound like bagpipes there. So you're supposed to sound out of tune. Good job!"

Uh...thank you?

Our memories of yesterday will last a lifetime

Even though it has been hard (and is hard), it's been worth it. I am so grateful for the things I've learned and the ways that I have grown and changed. I wouldn't change a thing. Really, thank you for everything.

You know...

An emotional catharsis doesn't necessarily stem from talking. Sometimes, silent care, concern, and love work just as well (if not better).

So thank you.

Let's live on dreams.

Why does my golden pretending leave me with nothing to hold but my dreams?

There is only one perfect storybook ending-that is the end of pretending.

I suffer from:

• Headaches above my left eye
• Reverse Sentence Syntax Syndrome
• A fractured foot

However, I'm not complaining, and I don't want this blog to sound all emo and depressed. Those are just some random facts that I noticed about my life. I also suffer from a completely incurable mindset that my life is fine, good, and just what it should be. I love my life. I'm grateful for life and everything that comes with it.

Also, I love Pahoran (Alma 61:9).

Just for the record-

I wore a yellow shirt again today. Not for any specific reason other than convenience. It was clean, hanging up, and accessible.

That being said, I must admit that I am going through an increasingly Susan-like state of mind. And I'm sorry. It's slightly odd, and for some reason really funny (if I am able to find the humor in the situation, does that mean that I am, in actuality, not acting like Susan at all?). Anyway, I'm sure I will get over this soon. In fact, it's already getting better.

It's nearing the one year mark since we started planning Casterbridge. I think that might have something to do with it.

"And Susan wandered the halls of the house like a pale ghost. Finally-she died."

Thoughts from 6 AM

I just hope he knows how much I love him.

Elder Murray

So, there's this Elder in the MTC named Elder Murray. The first time I met him I clearly had to ask about his family history to see if we're somehow related. He's from Washington, and hasn't really had any contact with his dad, so he doesn't know his Murray ancestors.

It's okay, because I just adopted him into my family. We're distant cousins. It's great having family everywhere.

Even greater is that we're all family, really. And forever.