Thanksgiving and Other Things

Dear Blogging Friends:

It was nice to get a break for Thanksgiving. It is so odd how life keeps happening over and over again. I can remember all of the ups and downs from my childhood--the anticipation of Thanksgiving to the anticipation of Christmas, then to spring break then to summer, and finally the start of a whole new school year where I would be one year closer to the end of my life.

Life just keeps going and going and going.

It is ok, except for the fact that growing up is quite a shock. I always wanted to grow up, but now I am stuck between then and now. I can't quite find my place in a world where older people see youth in my face and I see youth in the face of those even younger than me.

There are so many things that flip sides so quickly. Today I judged auditions for a highschool play and remembered the weight of when I had stood before others who had already earned the power to determine a future. It was surreal.

There are so many things that I have not yet done. I feel there are things left unsaid, creativities left unborn. And I am entering a new phase of life where children start having children.

I am just like you. One day there was still time left to dream, but today--I must start acting upon being who I imagine myself to be.

I am so surprised by the number of people who have left notes saying, "where are you." I'm not even missed like that in the world outside of virtual reality. Interesting. I will visit your sites tonight and catch up.

Anna

3 New Things

Electric Blanket from my mom and dad (So I won't electrocute myself using the blowdryer under the covers to get warm)


Keyboard from my boyfriend (So that I won't keep talking about how I really really need to get a keyboard so that I can practice)


Job at a public school accompanying the choirs. This was a gift to myself.

So, you haven't seen me in a while because I've been getting used to a new job. (Oh and I started another job somewhere inbetween and quit that).

I am so happy with the 3 New Things. They are great blessings. I hope everyone is doing well. I will catch up with what is going on with you.

Parody on my writing: By My Mother

Here is a poem my mom wrote to me in 2004 as a parody of my writing. She was trying to be funny, but it made me feel good that she actually could mimic something about me and she was right on. Leave comments and I will share them with her.

Why?
Why?
Why?
Why build me up
to tear me down
and leave me
lying on the ground

Nowhere to go
Nowhere to turn
only for understanding
I did yearn.

Nothing
Making sense
Nothing
Making sense
Nothing
Nothing
In the Dark
Chasm of my soul
there are things
yet untold.

Why?
Why?
Why?

Do kids
make parent's cry
and ask the question
Why?
Why?
Why?

Dark is deep
and deep is dark
there are things
that make us weep.

Is the answer
anywhere?
anywhere?
anywhere?

Will I know
before the dawn
or is it still
the night alone?

The night alone
where I've gone
because of what
I have known?

Dear Friend

Picture of This Morning's Sky

Dear Friend,

What is wrong with me? When will I come full circle to myself? The only time I am ever happy is when I'm in my car, a few more minutes safe from where I will soon arrive. I have lost my zeal, my gumption and my earpiece. My biggest fear is rejection, of not being good enough--even at the simplest of things such as knowing how to unlock a door. I miss a note here and miss a note there and before you know it, I can't call myself a musician anymore. I'm afraid to live and to ask the most basic of questions. Because they will tell me no. The answer is always no. And even when it isn't no, I don't want to accept the favor. Live beside me forever and visit me when I die and play music and sing songs that touch my soul inside you. I just want to sit on the mountain with you and sing in my real voice to the banjo and mandolin while it echoes out across busy city life. And then I'd be happy if you would tell me to keep singing and that you'll never get tired of playing. I would rather get up early to do something I love than to sleep late in order to hang myself later. Oh friend, can I come see you and bring you your coffee and slippers and sit at your feet and listen to you make music? I will even sweep the floor while waiting for you to sing my way. I'm having wine like all of the other alcoholics before me who said they weren't what they are. My back can't bear what it's bearing anymore. I'm going to go for a long walk until I'm lost in the woods. But it will be beautiful and I will take the time to smell the cedar because I'm all alone and distracted by no one but me. I love you and who you are to me a silent anchor that keeps me in tow. Come and see me. And bring your voice, so you can tell me all I've been waiting to hear.

I'll be up.
Anna

Holy Moly

Thanks a lot Inger! I liked your results better. :-)

You Are French Food

Snobby yet ubiquitous. People act like they understand you more than they actually do.

What Kind of Food Are You?