It finally happened.

Well...living in the clouds came with a risk. I took it and fell. Welp, now it just means I've learned my lesson and can move on. It's going to be great now, I know it. Although, I find myself suddenly loving songs about revenge...

Car Crash (Moment of Our Lives #1)

Once upon a time, Liz Warnick, Claire Warnick, and Noelle Reid decided to go to Casey's farewell. It had snowed that morning, and there hadn't been any sand/ice trucks out yet that day.

So there we were, driving to Casey's farewell. We were a bit late, but we were trying to play it safe anyway, not go too fast. We were on the freeway, nearing our exit. All of the sudden, we see the exit we are supposed to take. I turned a bit too quickly, but under any other circumstances, it would have been plenty of time. With all the new fallen snow and ice, my worn tires couldn't keep a grip. We started spinning at 60 miles an hour. Adrenaline took over, and we didn't even think to scream. We were spinning off the freeway, and there was nothing we could do.

On one side, the long way down into a ditch. Going down that way would likely throw the car into an all-out roll, which would put us in further danger. On the other side, the gore area and the freeway. If anyone was to come behind us, they would not have time to stop before they hit us from behind. And if they did stop, or swerve, they would likely spin out of control just as we were now doing. Not very many good options. The only safe way was to stay on the exit ramp and pray no one was trying to exit right behind us. Still, how do you stay within 20 ft. when you're spinning out of control?

I knew the best thing I could do would be to slow us down as fast as I could. The best way to do that was to pull us into an even tighter spin. We would spin faster, but our horizontal motion would take a severe drop. However, taking this tactic also meant I couldn't control where we would land.

I pulled the wheel as tight as I could, and we started spinning faster. A billion thoughts went through my mind, thinking through every contingency. Here are some things I was thinking:

• When we crash, I wonder how hurt I'll be.
• Finally! I get to see who would visit me in the hospital!
• I hope Liz and Claire don't get hurt. Not only would it be sad, but I'd be so embarrassed!
• AHHH!!
• Wow! I've never spun this much before!
• How am I not dead yet?
• This is a long spin.
• Our faces probably look so funny right now. (No, actually, I didn't think that. But they really did look funny)

Miraculously, there was no one behind us to send us rolling and depending upon our seatbelts to keep us alive. Miraculously, we didn't fly into the middle of the freeway, at the disposal of the wheels and metal around us. Miraculously, we didn't go careening over the side, into the ditch. We came to a stop in the middle of the exit ramp. And we had time to turn around and continue our journey before anyone was near us.

Why it was a miracle:
1. The exit ramp was curved. How could we have done a 540 degree turn at 60 miles an hour, and not have gone flying off?
2. Our momentum was headed straight (or almost straight) off the freeway, into the ditch. We should have slid right off.
3. I'm not that lucky.

So, how did we feel, having escaped death so nearly? How did we react to this crazy experience?

We spent the next 20 minutes laughing hysterically.

I keep on chasing the wrong things

So it seems that I'm wrong,
'Cause you said that I would never want for anything again.
But my eyes are set low,
And I'm holding to the thing I know I can't keep.

I keep on chasing the wrong things
And coming up empty.
This isn't who I'm supposed to be!
I keep on learning the hard way: from every mistake,
And I'm finding each time that you fall,
You're just becoming who you are

So it seems that I'm wrong,
'Cause I keep on searching for the answers that I don't need,
That I know I don't need.

I keep on chasing the wrong things
And coming up empty.
This isn't who I'm supposed to be.
I keep on learning the hard way: from every mistake.
I'm finding each time that you fall,
You're just becoming who you are.


No, I did not write these lyrics. But they speak to me in a way that only truth can. I've been chasing all of the wrong dreams, and seeking all the answers I don't need! These are all things I already have, or don't need right now! Gee whiz. It is so easy to get depressed in this world. I just have to let myself be happy!

I'm sorry

I'm sorry I have
This disease.
But it's not contagious, don't worry.
You keep your distance, and I guess I can see where you're coming from. I can kind of understand why you wouldn't want to be around me, at least while I have
This disease.

I'm sorry I'm not
the same anymore.
But someday it might go away.
You can see my face light up at the sight of you, and you see my hands and knees trembling. You see my eyes glisten and you know why things between us aren't
the same anymore.

I'm sorry
you don't feel the same.
But when I think about it, I'm kind of glad you aren't as sick.
People get along much better when they are both afflicted, but it also means that neither can nurse the other. So maybe I really am happy that
you don't feel the same.

I'm sorry I can't hide
my disease.
But if it gets any worse, I'll quarantine myself.
Because there are no doctors who can prescribe, no apothecaries to cure such a petrifying malady. So please be patient as I bear through
my disease.

I hear it's only fatal sometimes.

Teardrops on my Guitar

There are so many sad love songs. Is it just because it takes us all so long to get it right? And when it's right for one, it's not always right for the other. So we get another sad love song. And another stupid girl who can relate to it. Hm. What craziness.

We truly are crazy creatures.

What seems so simple to our minds is a world of confusion and conflicting feelings for our poor silly hearts. And then what seems simple to our hearts gets all muddled and clouded by our need to reason it out.

Is there nothing simple for both the heart and the mind? Why is it that neither can ever be sure of either the moment or the outcome?

If only outright honesty was always the best policy. I've found that in situations like these, it is so easy to be honest with him or her...and yet I suppose for whatever reason, imagined or valid, we can't say anything. I wish there were more implicit instructions. When I know what to do, it's easy to do it.

Everyday is a turning point

I wonder how many times it will seem like the world is falling apart and putting itself back together again.

I wonder how often my soul can make new resolve and pretend like it is the first real time.

I wonder how many times I can realize what I already knew and be deeply affected.

I wonder how many times I can recover.

I wonder how many scars that will leave.

Because today feels like the first time I've been awake to everything around me. It feels like the first time I really comprehend what's been going on all along.

Will I ever escape the cycle through pain and numbness? Only feeling alive when the realization hits full force once again, punching a hole through me and continuing to gnaw slowly and painfully at the rest?

Ignorance really is bliss. Ignorance leaves room for hope. Hope is the only thing that gives any meaning to life.

Fortunately, Hope is the thing with feathers that perches in the soul. At times like these it flies south, leaving us in the cold of winter. If we survive that winter, Hope will return. Most likely, however, the Hope that returns will be a bit unfamiliar. I can only pray that I will recognize Hope when it comes back.

Contrasts Create Conviviality

No matter how small an event may seem in normal situations, when surrounded by a wasteland of boredom and solitude, these events can become surprisingly - perhaps dangerously - consequential.

Case in Point.
At work I am alone most of the day. I live with my grandmother, and while she is nice to talk to, the burnings of youthful souls begin to be quenched by the damp, disappointed dreams of the old (refer to Phoebe in House of Seven Gables for a prime example). Now, the scene is set. Nothing can happen but something to excite.
One day, I was working diligently, and there was no sound except for the sound of footsteps past my small cave of solitude. Then, what ho? The footsteps stop at my door. I turn, and there is someone here to talk to me! He is young, blond, tall, and not bad looking at all. But, what is most exciting is that, unlike most men I see here on campus, he is unmarried! What luck!
He tells me that he is taking over for Heather, the girl who worked for Speeches and would come over here every day. She never spoke to me, only to Daniel. I am thrilled to hear this news!
This man, who later introduced himself as Nick, has been so nice and funny about everything I have done for him (business-wise, of course) that I find myself thinking about his daily visit at random times. Now, you're thinking, "Orange. You just have a dumb crush on him. Stop boring us." But that is not true. The point is, I don't have a crush on him, he is just a way for my poor bored mind to escape and excite itself!

So, my moral to the story...
Boredom is dangerous. It can get you into trouble.

If you are not convinced of my moral, just read Ethan Frome. He got way too bored and lonely in Starkfield for his own good. Boredom caused him to marry Zeena. Fortunately, I don't think I'm quite bored enough to marry Nick.

Haha but Nick did come in singing "Good morning" one day. It was pretty cool.

Go Down Hard

My head hurts. This is because I stayed up late after cleaning up after a party I enjoyed very much. Then, I woke up early to shower and go to work. I even woke up early enough to get to work early! Now, this was part of my plan. I always stretch myself as far as I can go.

I'm trying to be everything to everyone! I'm trying to be everyone's friend at once, and the best friend I can be to a select few. I think I have finally found the people I want to hang on to for the rest of forever. Still, doing just a little for a lot of people takes time. I've got things planned with other people every day for six days in a row. That, on top of work, makes it hard for me to keep up with all the chores I have to do at my new apartment: laundry, dishes, cleaning.

Am I going to change my ways? No. I might even become more like this. I will very likely plan myself nearly to death, take a break, then do it again. It works for me. I need to stay busy, and this is one way to do it. I take my breaks when I need them (or when I let myself need them.) Each thing I do is a break from the other things I do, so I can be everywhere and not get tired of it. Rehearsals for the concert at Abravanell Hall is balanced out by being a private teacher. Work is balanced by DoT and the concert. Chores are balanced out by house sitting. The only thing I have trouble fitting into my schedule is sleep.

So, my week's schedule? It looks like I've got myself down to work hard all day, and than play hard all night. I'm excited.

Post number 200

200 posts. As the frost once again blows its icy breath upon my car (sealing my fate of being late again tomorrow morning) I once again delve into the introspection of a magnificent landmark. 200 posts. Have I grown since the first? Undoubtedly. Have I learned? Have I developped? Pretty sure. Have I gotten myself into trouble? Countless times. Have I gotten myself out? Once in a while. I am reminded of a poem which has touched me several times, and its words have entered into my soul, to be used freely at the times when I am made aware of my own wretchedness. The poem is that of Edward Rowland Sill, The Fool's Prayer:

The royal feast was done; the King
Sought some new sport to banish care,
And to his jester cried: "Sir Fool,
Kneel now, and make for us a prayer!"

The jester doffed his cap and bells,
And stood the mocking court before;
They could not see the bitter smile
Behind the painted grin he wore.

He bowed his head, and bent his knee
Upon the Monarch's silken stool;
His pleading voice arose: "O Lord,
Be merciful to me, a fool!

"No pity, Lord, could change the heart
From red with wrong to white as wool;
The rod must heal the sin: but Lord,
Be merciful to me, a fool!

"'Tis not by guilt the onward sweep
Of truth and right, O Lord, we stay;
'Tis by our follies that so long
We hold the earth from heaven away.

"These clumsy feet, still in the mire,
Go crushing blossoms without end;
These hard, well-meaning hands we thrust
Among the heart-strings of a friend.

"The ill-timed truth we might have kept--
Who knows how sharp it pierced and stung?
The word we had not sense to say--
Who knows how grandly it had rung!

"Our faults no tenderness should ask.
The chastening stripes must cleanse them all;
But for our blunders -- oh, in shame
Before the eyes of heaven we fall.

"Earth bears no balsam for mistakes;
Men crown the knave, and scourge the tool
That did his will; but Thou, O Lord,
Be merciful to me, a fool!"

The room was hushed; in silence rose
The King, and sought his gardens cool,
And walked apart, and murmured low,
"Be merciful to me, a fool!"


O Lord, be merciful unto me, a fool.