Oh. My. Gosh. I haven't even heard the entire album yet, and already it's my new favourite. I mean, here I thought their last album, "Afterwards" was awesome. But the Rabbit album (release date August 25th!!!!) is even better! Their new drummer, Cheney Brannon, is just outstanding. The songs show originality, talent, and of course they contain that "stimulation" that kids these days are constantly searching for (I really don't understand that, and I could write an entire 5-page essay on it, but I won't get into it....for now).
My brother even said it's their best, next to the blue album. So Kudos to you, Ed, Dean, Joel, Cheney, Will....it's a job well done. :)
I just wish I could see you in concert! Just once!!
(Oh yeah, here's where you can hear the entire album http://www.vh1.com/artists/az/collective_soul/2449754/album.jhtml or http://watch.muchmusic.com/muchmore/first-spin/first-spin-collective-soul---rabbit/#clip204282
Monday, August 24, 2009
Friday, August 7, 2009
dance, dance, wherever you may be...everbody dances when they gotta pee...
Well, how do you like that. Doc said it'd take 4-6 weeks for my ankle to heel. I was walking in 2 weeks, walking without pain in 3, and without a limp in 4. By 5 weeks I could hop up and down the stairs normally, and by 6 I could run a very awkward type of run. So here I am, going into my 7th week. You'd think I could start dancing by now. and I don't mean the little 2-step, waltz, and tango etc, that take one or two minutes to finish. I mean the ridiculous type of dancing I would do, all by myself in my little room, with a huge imaginary audience watching me as the sound of Leahy blared out of my stereo.
That's right. Step-dancing.
I never did properly learn how, aside from a few steps shown to me by my future sister-in-law. That and watching the Leahy sisters and Natalie MacMaster are all I've had to teach me. And I must tell you, it definitely shows - which is why I never dance when there's anybody around. My imagination finds the pretence thrilling, and my body finds the exercise invigorating. I don't need to be an expert Cape Breton step-dancer. I'm perfectly happy dancing in my little room, trying to match my steps with the "tap tap" sound coming from various Leahy/Natalie recordings. I'm certainly no pro when it comes to the moonwalk, with Natalie does so nicely, but my imaginary agent seems to think so.
Alright. So maybe I dwell too much in my imaginary world, where nothing goes wrong (unless it's in the script....yes, I'm an actress, too). Maybe I should stick to REAL exercise that people do: jogging, biking, swimming, weights....but where's the fun in that? I suppose while jogging I could pretend I'm a secret agent chasing a dangerous criminal, or while I'm biking I could be a world-champion horse racer at the Kentucky Derby. Swimming...well, I'm afraid I spend too much time pretending I'm drowning after the ship explodes to focus on doing laps.
My point is, as much as I find these different imaginings.....different, maybe even exciting, I have always preferred dancing as my form of exercise. No, really, I have! When our family was expecting its first wedding, and I had to order a new outfit, what did I do to keep in shape? Why, I danced, of course! Back then I was obsessed with the '50's. Twists, hops, jives, etc...I didn't know how, but I had a ton of fun doing it.
So, again, on Monday it will be 7 weeks now since I sprained my ankle. And I still can't dance for more than a couple minutes. I can't even twist my foot properly, which is necessary for some of the steps I've learned.
Oh woe is me.
That's right. Step-dancing.
I never did properly learn how, aside from a few steps shown to me by my future sister-in-law. That and watching the Leahy sisters and Natalie MacMaster are all I've had to teach me. And I must tell you, it definitely shows - which is why I never dance when there's anybody around. My imagination finds the pretence thrilling, and my body finds the exercise invigorating. I don't need to be an expert Cape Breton step-dancer. I'm perfectly happy dancing in my little room, trying to match my steps with the "tap tap" sound coming from various Leahy/Natalie recordings. I'm certainly no pro when it comes to the moonwalk, with Natalie does so nicely, but my imaginary agent seems to think so.
Alright. So maybe I dwell too much in my imaginary world, where nothing goes wrong (unless it's in the script....yes, I'm an actress, too). Maybe I should stick to REAL exercise that people do: jogging, biking, swimming, weights....but where's the fun in that? I suppose while jogging I could pretend I'm a secret agent chasing a dangerous criminal, or while I'm biking I could be a world-champion horse racer at the Kentucky Derby. Swimming...well, I'm afraid I spend too much time pretending I'm drowning after the ship explodes to focus on doing laps.
My point is, as much as I find these different imaginings.....different, maybe even exciting, I have always preferred dancing as my form of exercise. No, really, I have! When our family was expecting its first wedding, and I had to order a new outfit, what did I do to keep in shape? Why, I danced, of course! Back then I was obsessed with the '50's. Twists, hops, jives, etc...I didn't know how, but I had a ton of fun doing it.
So, again, on Monday it will be 7 weeks now since I sprained my ankle. And I still can't dance for more than a couple minutes. I can't even twist my foot properly, which is necessary for some of the steps I've learned.
Oh woe is me.
Sunday, July 19, 2009
My loverly bedroom.
"Rheanne, why don't you do something with your life. All you ever do is sit in your room allllll day."
Uh huh. Sure, that's true some days. But as my older siblings and parents would, or at least should, recall, is that I have always spent a good portion of my time in my bedroom. Most of my childhood memories consist of me in my room, playing barbies. In my room, listening to music. In my room, imagining far-off worlds and different times. I have always loved having a room for myself to sneak away to, a room in which I can sit without being disturbed and imagine all sorts of adventures. A room to provide silence and solitude for my reading pleasure. This is the way it has always been.
Perhaps I should spend more time with my family. I don't know. I do know is that whenever I go upstairs to find some kind of activity, I either: (a) Find nothing interesting to do, (b) Find that nobody wants to play anything, (c) Get in trouble, or (d) Eat things that I really don't need to be eating. Might I also add, that in the summertime it can be dreadfully hot up there when the air conditioner isn't on. Can you really blame me if I prefer the cool air that sits in my humble bedroom to the stifling heat that sticks to you as soon as your foot reaches the top step?
Another accusation made against me is that all I ever do is go on my computer. Well, unfortunately, for the first few months that I was home, and for that unspeakable period of slight depression in mid-April, this was quite true. I have since however learned to do other things to occupy my time. Lately I have come by some very good books, some of which would take me hours to put down. Last week I was able to buy some more paint-by-numbers, thus enabling me to practice my painting again. My violin continues to show off its glory, sitting on top of its case, and of course my writing, musings, and drawing has considerably doubled.
This is why my room constantly looks as if a tornado passed by. When I get into an artistic state of mind, all other cares and worries of life - food, cleanliness, society - pass from my mind, and all I can focus on is the deep satisfaction and joy I achieve from these simple hobbies.
I recall my teenage years. I often spent my hours - and they were many, believe me! - sitting on my bed or floor, eyes closed in a deep reverie, listening to some very enjoyable music. It was usually violin or fiddle music, and I was really imagining myself as the lead violinist. I still do that. Only now, while I listen to music, I can put my thoughts into words, and the words into blogs. Ok, so not all of my musings and thoughts are beneficial for all of mankind. But it is a hobby, and a rather enjoyable one at that.
Nobody laughs at or accuses a stamp-collector, a scrap-booker, a photographer, or a rock-painter, of being "lazy" or "unproductive". And if they do, they shouldn't. All people need some kind of escape from the real world, a place or a thing in which they can unleash their imaginations and show the world what they are capable of doing. Some work better alone in well-decorated studios, some prefer rooms full of noisy people, some prefer the outdoors.
I prefer my bedroom, thank you very much.
Uh huh. Sure, that's true some days. But as my older siblings and parents would, or at least should, recall, is that I have always spent a good portion of my time in my bedroom. Most of my childhood memories consist of me in my room, playing barbies. In my room, listening to music. In my room, imagining far-off worlds and different times. I have always loved having a room for myself to sneak away to, a room in which I can sit without being disturbed and imagine all sorts of adventures. A room to provide silence and solitude for my reading pleasure. This is the way it has always been.
Perhaps I should spend more time with my family. I don't know. I do know is that whenever I go upstairs to find some kind of activity, I either: (a) Find nothing interesting to do, (b) Find that nobody wants to play anything, (c) Get in trouble, or (d) Eat things that I really don't need to be eating. Might I also add, that in the summertime it can be dreadfully hot up there when the air conditioner isn't on. Can you really blame me if I prefer the cool air that sits in my humble bedroom to the stifling heat that sticks to you as soon as your foot reaches the top step?
Another accusation made against me is that all I ever do is go on my computer. Well, unfortunately, for the first few months that I was home, and for that unspeakable period of slight depression in mid-April, this was quite true. I have since however learned to do other things to occupy my time. Lately I have come by some very good books, some of which would take me hours to put down. Last week I was able to buy some more paint-by-numbers, thus enabling me to practice my painting again. My violin continues to show off its glory, sitting on top of its case, and of course my writing, musings, and drawing has considerably doubled.
This is why my room constantly looks as if a tornado passed by. When I get into an artistic state of mind, all other cares and worries of life - food, cleanliness, society - pass from my mind, and all I can focus on is the deep satisfaction and joy I achieve from these simple hobbies.
I recall my teenage years. I often spent my hours - and they were many, believe me! - sitting on my bed or floor, eyes closed in a deep reverie, listening to some very enjoyable music. It was usually violin or fiddle music, and I was really imagining myself as the lead violinist. I still do that. Only now, while I listen to music, I can put my thoughts into words, and the words into blogs. Ok, so not all of my musings and thoughts are beneficial for all of mankind. But it is a hobby, and a rather enjoyable one at that.
Nobody laughs at or accuses a stamp-collector, a scrap-booker, a photographer, or a rock-painter, of being "lazy" or "unproductive". And if they do, they shouldn't. All people need some kind of escape from the real world, a place or a thing in which they can unleash their imaginations and show the world what they are capable of doing. Some work better alone in well-decorated studios, some prefer rooms full of noisy people, some prefer the outdoors.
I prefer my bedroom, thank you very much.
Tuesday, June 30, 2009
My uncle! I hurt my uncle!
As some of you know, I sprained my ankle last night while playing badminton with my sister. Actually, I took a break from the game to do a little Ukrainian victory dance with some Ukrainian singing - see, I started singing this song and it sounded Ukrainian so naturally that just made me dance Ukrainian.
Well, being barefoot, on uneven grass, and not know how to Ukrainian dance, my ankle turned pretty bad, and next thing I know I'm sprawling on the ground telling Lynda, "I just rolled my ankle!" Lynda, meanwhile, was laughing and my previous dance session and said, "Aw come on, I've rolled my ankle lots of times."
Nice sister.
My brother Danny had just driven in from work, and saw Lynda laughing and me on the ground. Luckily he figured something was wrong and came to help out. Boy I felt sick! Later Lynda made fun of how white I was when Danny and Mom brought me to the house. Apparently my lips were as white as that picture on my wall downstairs.
Last night was my first time in the hospital (outside of visiting). It was pretty interesting, and boring all at the same time. There weren't many waiting in the emergency room though so we were out of there within an hour.
So now my left ankle is nicely bandaged up and aching away. I'm stuck in the house because I don't have crutches yet. It'll take abotu 4-6 weeks to heal. 6 weeks!!! I can't live like this. I need to run around and bat some balls and run in the sprinkler and go for bike rides and walks...
My summer is ruined. *sigh*
Well, being barefoot, on uneven grass, and not know how to Ukrainian dance, my ankle turned pretty bad, and next thing I know I'm sprawling on the ground telling Lynda, "I just rolled my ankle!" Lynda, meanwhile, was laughing and my previous dance session and said, "Aw come on, I've rolled my ankle lots of times."
Nice sister.
My brother Danny had just driven in from work, and saw Lynda laughing and me on the ground. Luckily he figured something was wrong and came to help out. Boy I felt sick! Later Lynda made fun of how white I was when Danny and Mom brought me to the house. Apparently my lips were as white as that picture on my wall downstairs.
Last night was my first time in the hospital (outside of visiting). It was pretty interesting, and boring all at the same time. There weren't many waiting in the emergency room though so we were out of there within an hour.
So now my left ankle is nicely bandaged up and aching away. I'm stuck in the house because I don't have crutches yet. It'll take abotu 4-6 weeks to heal. 6 weeks!!! I can't live like this. I need to run around and bat some balls and run in the sprinkler and go for bike rides and walks...
My summer is ruined. *sigh*
Thursday, June 25, 2009
We're all probably going to get old.
It's a fact of life. Deal with it.
I just came back from the nursing home - tagged along with Mom to see an old parishioner who just turned 100 years old. I really should bring my violin some there and play them a few tunes. After about 2 or 3 hours of good practise, of course. I used to go and play the piano sometimes, back when I was still taking lessons. But my piano skills have gone way down. The only thing I can do is read notes (even that is going down - with the left hand notes. Violin doesn't have bass clef and I'm forgetting fast) and play little kid's songs. Even then, I think they would prefer some old time fiddling to some gloomy Beethoven or overly-prissy Mozart or a mind-boggling piece by Chopin -- not that I ever played HIM, of course!
When I get old, if I get old, and am placed in a nursing home, I would want people to come by and play the music I listened to when I was younger. But then again, in this day and age so many people have such a wide taste in music, I highly doubt that the music I listen to now would be warmly welcomed in nursing homes of the future: Irish and Cape Breton fiddling, swing music, Josh Groban, Frank Sinatra, Bing Crosby...my goodness, will the future generation even know who these people are?!?!?! I for one will do everything in my power to introduce this music into my children's heads and hope beyond all hope that they will grow to love it as I do. I mean really, how can you NOT love the fast-paced, dance-able, jigs and reels of Cape Breton? Or the minor-keyed off-beat tunes of Ireland?
I'm rambling.
Oooh, watermelon!!
I just came back from the nursing home - tagged along with Mom to see an old parishioner who just turned 100 years old. I really should bring my violin some there and play them a few tunes. After about 2 or 3 hours of good practise, of course. I used to go and play the piano sometimes, back when I was still taking lessons. But my piano skills have gone way down. The only thing I can do is read notes (even that is going down - with the left hand notes. Violin doesn't have bass clef and I'm forgetting fast) and play little kid's songs. Even then, I think they would prefer some old time fiddling to some gloomy Beethoven or overly-prissy Mozart or a mind-boggling piece by Chopin -- not that I ever played HIM, of course!
When I get old, if I get old, and am placed in a nursing home, I would want people to come by and play the music I listened to when I was younger. But then again, in this day and age so many people have such a wide taste in music, I highly doubt that the music I listen to now would be warmly welcomed in nursing homes of the future: Irish and Cape Breton fiddling, swing music, Josh Groban, Frank Sinatra, Bing Crosby...my goodness, will the future generation even know who these people are?!?!?! I for one will do everything in my power to introduce this music into my children's heads and hope beyond all hope that they will grow to love it as I do. I mean really, how can you NOT love the fast-paced, dance-able, jigs and reels of Cape Breton? Or the minor-keyed off-beat tunes of Ireland?
I'm rambling.
Oooh, watermelon!!
Tuesday, May 26, 2009
On music, and awesome bands, and the like.
You know what bothers me the most? What bothers me the most is when I mention to a friend a musician or band I like, and instead of being met with "oh my gosh, they are SO cool!", I get strange, distorted stares, something not unlike my favourite smiley: o.O
But I suppose I shouldn't be so ticked off by that. After all, I COULD use this moment to reach out and teach said friend about that band or musician. And so, in the hopes of winning an autographed picture by Collective Soul in time for my 20th birthday on June 20th, I will take the time to inform you, my friends and dedicated readers, about the one rock band who means the most to me.
Ah, Collective Soul. The very name brings a smile to my face. While most kids in their early years (9, 10, 11) were listening to....whatever it is kids normally listened to back then, I was in my room, with my Collective Soul tapes, enjoying the harmonious orchestra playing in the background of their cleverly melodic songs. I included their music in a lot of my daily playing - barbie dances, doll concerts - I even, while pretending I was Sherlock Holmes' niece in England (um, long story), pretended that their softer songs ("World I Know", "Needs", "Not the One", "Run"...) would quietly play out of the gramophone while Uncle Sherlock listened to his clients' stories.
As the years went by, my musical tastes didn't necessarily change, but branched out to different areas. For years I listened to nothing but Swing, Celtic, and Frank Sinatra. Oh sure, I would dig out my Collective Soul cd's every once in awhile, but - well, I just wanted to dance, you know? Real dancing - jive, step-dancing, etc. Until last summer.
Last summer my brother, Dan, showed me their latest cd: "Afterwards" as we were driving to the lake one day. Wow, the energy! The lyrical beauty! The deep emotion and effort put into the writing of these songs! Being in a difficult situation personally, I found one song on there ("Good Morning Afterall") especially touching. That album became our "summer" cd, locking two monthfuls of cherished memories in with each song.
And theeeeen I got *cue the drumroll* yup: TWITTER. New to the growing website, confused, and wondering what the point of it was, I looked up "Collective Soul" under Search, and was happy to find out they were on there: @collective_soul, http://www.twitter.com/collective_soul. Yeah, that was pretty cool. And not only that, but they followed me back! I was stunned and started seeing stars in my eyes. Collective Soul, they KNOW I EXIST!!! There was even a Q&A session with them, and not only was I able to ask them some questions, but I got some replies back --not from management, not from some second cousin's girlfriend's aunt twice removed, but from the members of the band themselves! THAT totally rocked my world. I found out they are in the middle of making a new album (I believe it comes out sometime the end of summer), and will be going on tour soon! (check out if they're coming to your area! http://www.collectivesoul.com/live/)
So it's all because of them that I am becoming more and more obsessed with Twitter. I can at last interact with other fans on there, ask Will Turpin what his favourite ice cream flavor is (Vanilla - I agree. It IS the finest of flavours), and - even though the part I play is small indeed and may only exist in my overly active imagination - I can aid in getting Ed Roland to come to the dark side.
Really, when it comes down to good old rock music, with talented band members who can just play their hearts out, NOT TO MENTION my mom actually let me listen to them at such an early age - Collective Soul is definitely the greatest band in the whole. wide. world. And you definitely need to look them up. http://www.collectivesoul.com/blog/
But I suppose I shouldn't be so ticked off by that. After all, I COULD use this moment to reach out and teach said friend about that band or musician. And so, in the hopes of winning an autographed picture by Collective Soul in time for my 20th birthday on June 20th, I will take the time to inform you, my friends and dedicated readers, about the one rock band who means the most to me.
Ah, Collective Soul. The very name brings a smile to my face. While most kids in their early years (9, 10, 11) were listening to....whatever it is kids normally listened to back then, I was in my room, with my Collective Soul tapes, enjoying the harmonious orchestra playing in the background of their cleverly melodic songs. I included their music in a lot of my daily playing - barbie dances, doll concerts - I even, while pretending I was Sherlock Holmes' niece in England (um, long story), pretended that their softer songs ("World I Know", "Needs", "Not the One", "Run"...) would quietly play out of the gramophone while Uncle Sherlock listened to his clients' stories.
As the years went by, my musical tastes didn't necessarily change, but branched out to different areas. For years I listened to nothing but Swing, Celtic, and Frank Sinatra. Oh sure, I would dig out my Collective Soul cd's every once in awhile, but - well, I just wanted to dance, you know? Real dancing - jive, step-dancing, etc. Until last summer.
Last summer my brother, Dan, showed me their latest cd: "Afterwards" as we were driving to the lake one day. Wow, the energy! The lyrical beauty! The deep emotion and effort put into the writing of these songs! Being in a difficult situation personally, I found one song on there ("Good Morning Afterall") especially touching. That album became our "summer" cd, locking two monthfuls of cherished memories in with each song.
And theeeeen I got *cue the drumroll* yup: TWITTER. New to the growing website, confused, and wondering what the point of it was, I looked up "Collective Soul" under Search, and was happy to find out they were on there: @collective_soul, http://www.twitter.com/collective_soul. Yeah, that was pretty cool. And not only that, but they followed me back! I was stunned and started seeing stars in my eyes. Collective Soul, they KNOW I EXIST!!! There was even a Q&A session with them, and not only was I able to ask them some questions, but I got some replies back --not from management, not from some second cousin's girlfriend's aunt twice removed, but from the members of the band themselves! THAT totally rocked my world. I found out they are in the middle of making a new album (I believe it comes out sometime the end of summer), and will be going on tour soon! (check out if they're coming to your area! http://www.collectivesoul.com/live/)
So it's all because of them that I am becoming more and more obsessed with Twitter. I can at last interact with other fans on there, ask Will Turpin what his favourite ice cream flavor is (Vanilla - I agree. It IS the finest of flavours), and - even though the part I play is small indeed and may only exist in my overly active imagination - I can aid in getting Ed Roland to come to the dark side.
Really, when it comes down to good old rock music, with talented band members who can just play their hearts out, NOT TO MENTION my mom actually let me listen to them at such an early age - Collective Soul is definitely the greatest band in the whole. wide. world. And you definitely need to look them up. http://www.collectivesoul.com/blog/
Monday, May 25, 2009
Of colleges and the like
"Dear Miss _________: I am pleased to inform you formally of your acceptance to Our Lady Seat of Wisdom Academy for the 2009-2010 academic year. We are honoured that you have chosen the Academy as a possible place of study."
What do I say to that? "Gee whiz, golly gee, oh boy, how thrilling!"? I got the phone call at around 8:15 this morning, right after I woke up (slept through my alarm!), and I tried to sound excited but my mind just wasn't working. Then they sent me the email to make it official and formal and all that. So I'm all..."ok, guess this means I need to go shopping" and "I sure hope I can fit my violin in the car on the trip there."
And here I am rambling about the whole thing. I've posted the news on twitter, facebook, and "the board". I figured I might as well go all out and post it here too.Oh, before I go, here's a song two of my brothers worked on around Easter, featuring my two nieces Marie (3) and Claire (1): http://dmillette.fastmail.fm/recording/Mirror%20of%20Eternity.mp3
Friday, May 8, 2009
"Life is for Everyone!"
Look at those tiny little feet! These are the feet of an unborn baby at 10 weeks old. Already at 22 days the baby's heart is beating and is pumping his or her own blood. At 3 weeks the child has begun developing a nervous system and the liver, kidneys, and intestines begin to form. Soon - two weeks later, in fact - the baby's eyes, legs, and hands begin to develop.
This is the so-called "blob of tissue" that daily is put to death through abortion.
Thursday I took part in the March for Life infront of the Legislative buildings in Regina, Saskatchewan, not in violent protest against abortion but in love and mourning for the many unborn whose lives have been brutally taken away.
As four brave women demonstrated yesterday by their "I regret my abortion" signs, abortion not only kills the child: it hurts the mother!
Does telling a woman to get an abortion really help her? Does it really make her life easier?
Mothers who go through an abortion suffer from physical and emotional trauma, denial of their action caused by guilt, depression, suicidal thoughts, eating disorders, insomnia, drug and alcohol abuse, nightmares, and many other sufferings. This is an injustice to the mother and to the life of an innocent child.
Sadly, there are a lot of people who claim to be pro-life, but are afraid to do anything. They seem ashamed to help those in need: "we go to hockey and football games and yell our lungs out at the teams, but when it comes to the abortion issue we are silent, too ashamed to tell people of the injustice that is going on."
I like what one of the speakers said yesterday: "If I were to drink a glass of water which I didn't know what poisoned, but you knew and kept silent - if I drank it and died, would you be responsible for my death? You would be, because you agreed to not say anything, thus allowing me to die." And what about that movie, Horton Hears a Hoo? In the end, the tiny world of Hooville is shouting at the top of their lungs to avoid being destroyed, except for the mayor's son who cannot be found. When the mayor finally finds his son he tells him, "don't you know that it could be your one voice that will make a difference?" The son listens to his father, and decides to help - and it was because of his voice added to the noise of Hooville that that little world was saved. The same goes for Abortion! It could be YOUR one voice which the government and doctors will finally listen to!
I know my ideas and thoughts are all jumbled all over the place...I don't want this to be too long. I just want to inform you all about this and my reasons for openly being pro-life. And cliche as this might sound, everybody has a right to life, whether they are big or small, black or white, unborn or a hundred years old.
"Life is For Everyone!
Life is a precious gift from Almighty God, and as such it deserves our utmost love and respect. The life that begins at conception will someday die; however, the Spirit that life is endowed with will live forever and ever.
From the moment of conception to the moment of natural death, the human being is at all times a human person. Personhood is not derived from man-made law and cannot be awarded, diminished, withdrawn from any human being by an Act of Parliament or any judicial action."
http://www.saskprolife.com/Friday, April 17, 2009
"She'll have a perfect day"
Ever have a really, truly, awesome day in the midst of a lousy week?
Easter Sunday was great! I thoroughly enjoyed myself and the time spent with family and friends. By the time Monday came around...well, certain things happened that - let's just say - pretty much ruined my future, to put it lightly. And no, I don't exaggerate. The things that happened on Monday made me very much stressed, depressed, nervous, worried: I've lost a lot of sleep and haven't exactly been the healthiest eater on the planet. Every morning I wake up from a lousy night and wonder if life could get any worse. Then I try to remind myself that there's no point in living in the past and that I might as well look forward to what mystery and surprises life has to offer. Every day I force myself to laugh at stupid jokes, to try and help friends who are also going through a rough time...it doesn't necessarily make my own pain less difficult to bear, but it is somewhat comforting to have these little distractions to help me forget it for a bit.
All of yesterday (Thursday) I was so exhausted and groggy and tired that I started to get worried: this lack of sleep has got to be dangerous. By evening my headache had turned into a living nightmare, and at 8pm I was in bed with the hopes of falling asleep quickly. I did, for a good 20 minutes. Then I was wide awake until past midnight, when my brain finally shut down. Last night was no different from any others this past week, but for some reason I woke up this morning with a hint of a smile on my face. The sun was out! I could faintly hear birds chirping in the air. Mom and Lynda were gone for the day, leaving just me and my brother to "man the house". If that makes sense. AAAND I had set up an appointment for a haircut this afternoon!
Well, that settled it then and there. I immediately hid away all the sad, depressing music I had and played every song I could think of which gave me a happy memory: mostly Collective Soul, Natalie MacMaster, or Leahy. (Yes, I know Josh is great, I too am in love with him, but I really needed something differentish and nostalgic today). I bought a professional flat iron, and my hair is now short, bouncy, cute, and everyone loves it. Tonight I went to the prayers for a family friend who passed away Monday night, and in that one hour alone I received 8 or 9 compliments about my new look - NOT counting all the nice stuff people said on facebook! :) That alone put such a huge smile on my face! After the prayers, I went to our town's annual Trade Fair and entered all the draws I could find (hey, you never know! I just might win that free make-up sample stuff or a cordless drill! I'm sure Dad could always use a cordless drill....right?). And, as if THAT wasn't enough, as my family and I were driving home - lo and behold, we saw FIREWORKS from a nearby farm! So we stopped at the side of the road and watched a magnificent show of bright colours lighting up the sky.
So, yeah. My most sincerest apologies to Collective Soul, whose song I've played over and over and over again and I'm sure they're tired of me quoting ("Perfect Day"). It's just one of my "yay! life's awesome!" songs.
And yes. Life IS awesome. Even though I might not sleep again tonight, or I'll wake up to cloudy skies, or my future life issues may never be resolved....life is short, life is beautiful, and I intend to enjoy every bit of it.
*bows*
Easter Sunday was great! I thoroughly enjoyed myself and the time spent with family and friends. By the time Monday came around...well, certain things happened that - let's just say - pretty much ruined my future, to put it lightly. And no, I don't exaggerate. The things that happened on Monday made me very much stressed, depressed, nervous, worried: I've lost a lot of sleep and haven't exactly been the healthiest eater on the planet. Every morning I wake up from a lousy night and wonder if life could get any worse. Then I try to remind myself that there's no point in living in the past and that I might as well look forward to what mystery and surprises life has to offer. Every day I force myself to laugh at stupid jokes, to try and help friends who are also going through a rough time...it doesn't necessarily make my own pain less difficult to bear, but it is somewhat comforting to have these little distractions to help me forget it for a bit.
All of yesterday (Thursday) I was so exhausted and groggy and tired that I started to get worried: this lack of sleep has got to be dangerous. By evening my headache had turned into a living nightmare, and at 8pm I was in bed with the hopes of falling asleep quickly. I did, for a good 20 minutes. Then I was wide awake until past midnight, when my brain finally shut down. Last night was no different from any others this past week, but for some reason I woke up this morning with a hint of a smile on my face. The sun was out! I could faintly hear birds chirping in the air. Mom and Lynda were gone for the day, leaving just me and my brother to "man the house". If that makes sense. AAAND I had set up an appointment for a haircut this afternoon!
Well, that settled it then and there. I immediately hid away all the sad, depressing music I had and played every song I could think of which gave me a happy memory: mostly Collective Soul, Natalie MacMaster, or Leahy. (Yes, I know Josh is great, I too am in love with him, but I really needed something differentish and nostalgic today). I bought a professional flat iron, and my hair is now short, bouncy, cute, and everyone loves it. Tonight I went to the prayers for a family friend who passed away Monday night, and in that one hour alone I received 8 or 9 compliments about my new look - NOT counting all the nice stuff people said on facebook! :) That alone put such a huge smile on my face! After the prayers, I went to our town's annual Trade Fair and entered all the draws I could find (hey, you never know! I just might win that free make-up sample stuff or a cordless drill! I'm sure Dad could always use a cordless drill....right?). And, as if THAT wasn't enough, as my family and I were driving home - lo and behold, we saw FIREWORKS from a nearby farm! So we stopped at the side of the road and watched a magnificent show of bright colours lighting up the sky.
So, yeah. My most sincerest apologies to Collective Soul, whose song I've played over and over and over again and I'm sure they're tired of me quoting ("Perfect Day"). It's just one of my "yay! life's awesome!" songs.
And yes. Life IS awesome. Even though I might not sleep again tonight, or I'll wake up to cloudy skies, or my future life issues may never be resolved....life is short, life is beautiful, and I intend to enjoy every bit of it.
*bows*
Sunday, April 12, 2009
It's Easter it's Easter it's Easter!!!!!!!
Wow, I am so excited right now. I mean I was excited all night during the Easter Vigil but now I'm literally shaking I'm so excited and hyper and HAPPY! Easter is such a holy and joyous time.
And sorry if I get "religious" for those of you who aren't - but this is my faith, and I can't express my joy without telling you WHY.
"Christ the Lord is risen today - Alleluiah
Earth and heaven in chorus say, Alleluia!
Raise your joys and triumphs high, Alleluia!
Sing, ye heavens, and earth reply, Alleluia!"
( http://www.hymnsite.com/lyrics/umh302.sht )
I find it quite ridiculous how commercialized Easter has become. Many people only look forward to it for the candy and chocolate bunnies -and YES, those ARE a huge part of Easter! 40 days of fasting leads to great love of everything sweet! But many seem to stop there, never looking into the true reasons for rejoicing. The most holy and beautiful season for all Christians has somehow become as commercialized and depreciated ones of all time. People look more forward to Christmas than they do to Easter, yet the only reason Christ was born was so that He may die and rise again for US!!
The Easter Triduum are the three holiest days of the year - beginning on Holy Thursday and extending until Easter Vigil on Holy Saturday. It really saddens me that on Good Friday - the most mournful day of all - THE GROCERY STORES WERE OPEN. Seriously. Who needs to shop for toilet paper on that particular day? As if peoples' groceries can't wait till the day after. Does nobody care? Don't they know how that day changed the world forever?! How can you celebrate the Resurrection without first acknowledging His death? It's not even logical.
Anyway. Just my two cents worth. I'm going to go eat my chocolate bunny now.
And sorry if I get "religious" for those of you who aren't - but this is my faith, and I can't express my joy without telling you WHY.
"Christ the Lord is risen today - Alleluiah
Earth and heaven in chorus say, Alleluia!
Raise your joys and triumphs high, Alleluia!
Sing, ye heavens, and earth reply, Alleluia!"
( http://www.hymnsite.com/lyrics/umh302.sht )
I find it quite ridiculous how commercialized Easter has become. Many people only look forward to it for the candy and chocolate bunnies -and YES, those ARE a huge part of Easter! 40 days of fasting leads to great love of everything sweet! But many seem to stop there, never looking into the true reasons for rejoicing. The most holy and beautiful season for all Christians has somehow become as commercialized and depreciated ones of all time. People look more forward to Christmas than they do to Easter, yet the only reason Christ was born was so that He may die and rise again for US!!
The Easter Triduum are the three holiest days of the year - beginning on Holy Thursday and extending until Easter Vigil on Holy Saturday. It really saddens me that on Good Friday - the most mournful day of all - THE GROCERY STORES WERE OPEN. Seriously. Who needs to shop for toilet paper on that particular day? As if peoples' groceries can't wait till the day after. Does nobody care? Don't they know how that day changed the world forever?! How can you celebrate the Resurrection without first acknowledging His death? It's not even logical.
Anyway. Just my two cents worth. I'm going to go eat my chocolate bunny now.
Thursday, April 9, 2009
I need to start writing again
I was going through my old notebooks when I found an entry I wrote a couple years ago:
"One of my most cherished memories happened a long time ago, when I played in a music recital at our local nursing home. When I was finished my piece, I moved away from the upright piano and saw a lady in the back beckoning me to her. After walking to her and sitting beside her, a remarkable thing happened. She told me a story.
She started by telling me how much she and her late husband loved music. How all her kids could play the piano. How each morning she and her husband would wake up and start dancing and singing.
That, unfortunately, is all I can remember of her story. But those words have meant more to me than any others I have heard, because of the simplicity and honesty with which the lady spoke.
I especially relish the thought of someday waking up singing and dancing with my own future husband. Of teaching all my children the beauty and power music holds.
After a few years went by I went back to the nursing home in hopes of finding that lady, but she was nowhere to be seen. I didn't even know her name. It saddened me, because I longed to see her just to say, "Thank you. Thank you for choose me, out of all those other musicians, to tell your story to. I'll never forget it."
I'll always hold a special love and reverence for our seniors who grew up in the 30's and 40's. They are the ones who built our communities, who upheld the freedom of our countries, who gave their very lives for the ones they loved.
So many people have asked me why I love the 1930's and 40's era so much - why I don't just live in the present, like a "normal" teenager. Well, I'll tell you why:
Our generation is a baby generation. Think about it. Those living in the 30's and 40's went through a series of hardships and disaster. They had to deal with bankruptcy, drought and famine, and war. They had to learn to fight for money, for food, for life. When I see those seniors walk into the coffee shop, usually missing a finger or two, I just wish so hard I weren't so shy, so I could go up to them and say, "Thank you".
Our generation is a baby generation. Most of us didn't have to work -- hard -- until we were out of highschool. Not many know what it's like to go to bed, worrying about where your next week's meals will come from. What little we have seen of war is but a shadow of what war really is. Instead of fighting for our rights, we have become content with crying for them. Let's face it kids: we're a spoiled society.
Firefighters. Military. Paramedics. Police. Seniors.
Thank you. "
"One of my most cherished memories happened a long time ago, when I played in a music recital at our local nursing home. When I was finished my piece, I moved away from the upright piano and saw a lady in the back beckoning me to her. After walking to her and sitting beside her, a remarkable thing happened. She told me a story.
She started by telling me how much she and her late husband loved music. How all her kids could play the piano. How each morning she and her husband would wake up and start dancing and singing.
That, unfortunately, is all I can remember of her story. But those words have meant more to me than any others I have heard, because of the simplicity and honesty with which the lady spoke.
I especially relish the thought of someday waking up singing and dancing with my own future husband. Of teaching all my children the beauty and power music holds.
After a few years went by I went back to the nursing home in hopes of finding that lady, but she was nowhere to be seen. I didn't even know her name. It saddened me, because I longed to see her just to say, "Thank you. Thank you for choose me, out of all those other musicians, to tell your story to. I'll never forget it."
I'll always hold a special love and reverence for our seniors who grew up in the 30's and 40's. They are the ones who built our communities, who upheld the freedom of our countries, who gave their very lives for the ones they loved.
So many people have asked me why I love the 1930's and 40's era so much - why I don't just live in the present, like a "normal" teenager. Well, I'll tell you why:
Our generation is a baby generation. Think about it. Those living in the 30's and 40's went through a series of hardships and disaster. They had to deal with bankruptcy, drought and famine, and war. They had to learn to fight for money, for food, for life. When I see those seniors walk into the coffee shop, usually missing a finger or two, I just wish so hard I weren't so shy, so I could go up to them and say, "Thank you".
Our generation is a baby generation. Most of us didn't have to work -- hard -- until we were out of highschool. Not many know what it's like to go to bed, worrying about where your next week's meals will come from. What little we have seen of war is but a shadow of what war really is. Instead of fighting for our rights, we have become content with crying for them. Let's face it kids: we're a spoiled society.
Firefighters. Military. Paramedics. Police. Seniors.
Thank you. "
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