This is why we don't have to fear death anymore

I wish I could share with you all something inspiring and well-written and beautiful.  However, really, today is not about being inspiring and well-written and beautiful.  It's about shame and agony and death.  It's about justice carried out by cruelty, like a king with a crown of thorns.

Today we received news that both an extended-family member and a friend died.  One was very old and in poor health for a while, the other was a wee tyke who departed suddenly.

How apt that this should happen now, because it's about this time of year that Christians are reminded strongly of how weak the grip of death has become.  It's when, even as we remember Christ being beaten and nailed to a cross, we remember the tearing of a curtain and an empty tomb.  When Jesus said, "It is finished", He really meant it.    

Someone turned 4 today...

...and I assure you, it was not me. 

Happy 4th Birthday to Galdor, my four year old brother (insert statement by Captain Obvious)

Big day today for all of us, as the soccer season started. =)  Lots of fun, and I managed to get a sunburn of course.  It'll be interesting this year.  My age group is 12 to 18, but it seems this year we hit a wave of new kids/12-13 year olds.  Of course, this is the season we had a mass 18-year-old exodus.  What's even more interesting is that one entire field in the park has been closed for the next few week, meaning my age group has to share one field with the u-12 team.  There are...oh...'bout 36 or so kids in my age group, so we're a little tightly packed.  Just a little, though.

Has anyone else switched to the new Blogger layout thingy?  I really don't like it.  I just figured out how to use the old one (after, like, four years?), so the new look really confuses me.

That's just the way I am.  Confused.

Anyhoo, the only reason I brought up soccer (which morphed into the new blogger look) was to mention that this season is Galdor's first!  This is a snippet of my interview with him on the event:

Izori: So, how was soccer?

Galdor: *evil glare*

Izori:  Did you like it?

Galdor: NO!

Izori: *unfazed*  Did you kick the ball around?

Galdor: NO!!

Izori:  Are you Negative?

Galdor: YES!  I mean, NO!  I'm GRUMPY!!

Peter (from the front seat):  But I thought you were Galdor.

Galdor:  No!  I'm Grumpy!

Obviously, he really enjoyed his first day of soccer.  His enthusiasm is an inspiration for us all. 

'Cause it's so much easier if someone else is wrong

While watching hockey last night, I had an interesting thought: the world would be better if people stopped trying to correct everyone else and focused on correcting themselves. I realized right after that I needed to edit that thought, due to the irony.

Do you know someone who just frustrates you, and you're not sure why so you begin picking apart their whole personality to find the speck you find irksome? I wish I didn't, but I do. And it seems every single time I dissect someone, I feel more and more dissatisfaction with them.

I guess there's something humbling--a little too humbling--about realizing that the problem is within yourself. It's a whole lot easier if our issues are not our own fault, but that of someone else.

That's my philosophy for the day.

Spring Allergies, School Work, Yadiyadiya

Ah, 'tis spring! The sweet smell of budding flowers fills my nostrils with pollen, the charming cold-like symptoms throwing me into a mound of tissues like most people dive into a meadow of daisies!

Sarcasm, in case you haven't noticed.

So, you know how I do public speaking? Well, that's, like, my life for the past month or so. I was so proud of my ability to think and plan ahead and be organized last school year. This year, I've been doing things like realizing I have to give a speech in about two days and, gee, I have to memorize the thing. Plus, for an event coming up (this weekend) I have to wear red+black one day and purple+black another. Took me up until Sunday to realize that, guess what? I have no suitable red or purple! Which means today I meekly murmur to my mother if I can pretty please run over to Salvation Army this Wednesday and buy clothes. Suffice it to say that my planning ability has...uh...fled.

I've covered spring allergies and schoolwork, so now it's on to yadiyadiya. However, I have to leave in ten minutes as I haven't brushed my teeth yet, so this might be short. I have been writing again. Last week or so, I sporadically flipped open my laptop and began (wait for it) another draft on the book that I have been drafting for, like, the past three years. Ever since I was thirteen. Or maybe four years, because I thought I was twelve.

No matter. Spring allergies, school work, and yadiyadiya. The whole shibang.

Can I have a shoulder on which to sob?

After her piano lesson today, Kara said something that struck me, because it was the exact same thing I said when I was her age after my piano lessons: she sighed and said, "I wish I could take violin."

Isn't that so reflective of human nature? We have piano lessons, but we want violin lessons. Why? Is it any easier? Any more fun? Just different?

I compare myself to people. All. The. Time. I see someone with "in" clothes, and then I think of how pretty much every article of clothing that I own is either hand-me-down or Salvation Army. I see someone who is a grade 7 pianist and I think of how I'll be testing this spring for grade 4. I see someone who is brilliant and talented and skipping grades and taking all honors classes and think of how I struggle with just the average stuff and average grades and average assignments.

Today was a really bad week. Not necessarily anyone else's fault but my own. Not even super huge catastrophes, but little ones that just stack up. The kid I babysit asked me a question about the Civil War because she was studying for a test in school and I gave her an answer. I thought my answer and explanation were brilliant, and then later in the day I realized I completely botched it. I've spent the next couple days wishing I wasn't such an idiot.

So, with all my own stupidity rising in my face, I ask myself: "When will I be content? When will I learn to know that my life, with all its flaws, is mine and I can't ever have anyone else's?"

It's so easy to look on our own pianos and wish we had violins.

I guess we won't be really content until we get to heaven. And seeing as heaven will last a lot longer than earth, I'll give myself an energy boost by looking forward.

Happy Valentine's Day

So, I don't have much to say today. Other than Happy Valentine's Day. I didn't wear pink, I didn't cut out hearts, but I did get a box of tic tacs (orange ones) and a heart-shaped cherry lollipop. I taught 3/4 of my piano students today, and I fed my turtle. That is nothing new, because Tintin's always eating. (the turtle, not the cartoon-character.)

Here's to a Happy Valentine's Day, and may you have many chocolates!

Post Script--I didn't get any chocolate today, except for two Hershey's kisses. One I gave to Kara. I believe I shall go eat the other one now.

Post Post Script--on second thought, I've had lots of chocolate today. We have chocolate fondue at our house, and my favorite is the angel food cake. And the strawberries. And the bananas. And the apples. But I don't like the marshmallows.

Post Post Post Script--I'm sorry for such a senseless post, but my fingers and my brain are both really tired. I'll try to have something a bit...more sense-full?...soon.

Post Post Post Script--I'm sorry, but I keep on thinking up things. I'd like to ask prayer for a speech tournament that I'm doing this Saturday. I'm kinda nervous, and I kinda am afraid of messing up, and I kinda don't want to do it right now. Thanks.

The Re-Writin' Queen

So, guess what.

I've been working on this book since I was twelve. I was inspired three years ago in December to write this book when my friend and I started playing with the family humidifier. Our humidifier has since... *sniff*...passed from this life (i.e. the thing was, like, twenty years old and finally went ka-chunk), but its constant stream of refreshing mist emitting from its little vent-thingy inspired an epic idea.

My epic idea turned into the story of a fourteen year old serf/peasant/slave named Ehra who could control water (inspired by the steam from our late humidifier) and banded together with five other folks--mostly kids--to overthrow an evil tyrant. Okay...like that's an original plot.

I wrote the whole thing in one notebook that I got for my 12th birthday. I still have that hallowed notebook--its cover is just about ripped off, but it has this beautiful illustration of a horse coming out of the ocean at sunset. All throughout the margins are my little doodles and drawings.

So, I typed it up and thought I was done. I was so proud of myself.

About half a year later or so, I read my story through and I realized what a badly written, cliche thing it was. Which led to...rewrite number one.

I don't think I got very far with rewrite number one. I guess it just peetered out, but even that small snipped was an improvement. The plot was slightly more original and the writing style was much improved.

Well, like I said, I didn't get very far with rewrite number one. So onto rewrite number two. By this time, I decided to completely ditch the plot I had started out with. Ehra was no longer Ehra, and she was no longer fourteen, and she was no longer a serf that had control over the element of water (thank goodness!). She was Ehrathiwel (which sounds much more noble), she was a pagan priestess (don't worry--she was headed for reform!), and she was nineteen years old. I also ditched some of the original characters, sticking with the ones that fit in my new plot.

I think I tried to write the new-and-improved version about four times. Each time, I got about to the same point before I gave up. Something was missing from the story. I first imagined Ehra as this happy, quiet, optimistic, nice girl; now Ehrathiwel was this angsty, depressed, semi-emo sorceress.

Just yesterday, after pondering my story long and hard, I decided to start all over again. And basically, I'm back to plot number one with some definite improvements.

In one way, I'm really glad for all these rewrites. I experimented with all these different plots, and now the plot I'm going with is kind of a mix of them all. Ehra's back to being a serf again, but guess what--I also have some semi-emo sorceresses in the mix as well. I'm making Ehra slightly less angsty, but definitely with enough issues to fully round out her character (as opposed to making her Miss Sugar and Spice).

Ehra's not the only character to benefit from all these re-writes. One of my favorite characters, Maethar (who appears often in this blog if you look back at some older posts), is greatly improved upon from my very first draft. For instance, his name. He was actually called 'Maki' in my first book, and 'Maki' is an awful name. It reminds me of, like, macaroni and cheese or some kind of fish. Or a Big Mac at McDonald's.

Why did I post this here instead of at my writing blog? (pull up my profile and click on 'Traveling Tales' if you want to go to it because I'm too lazy to link it up). Because my story, inspired by our angelic humidifier, may it rest in peace, is as much a part of me as myself is apart of me.

Gee, that sounded confusing. What I meant to say is: that story, whether or not I publish it and become all famous and stuff and have screaming fans paying a hundred bucks for my autograph (like that will ever happen), has really grown on me.

Any of you all have a story that's grown on you?