“Hi, Mom. What? No, about 2. I’m on my way–I’ll be there soon.”

Smack, went the phone, as soon as that last word was out of Michelle’s mouth.

We were driving back from Eastport 16 Cinemas on 82nd. We’d just seen Pan’s Labyrinth, an incredibly brilliant and beautiful movie. I had turned sixteen the previous night. The sky was blue, and even though the traffic had been jammed, we were both feeling great.

Michelle, however, really had to go to the bathroom. And though we had passed countless fast food restaurants and grocery stores that would have had public restrooms, we pulled into the parking lot of the Milwaukie Marketplace and stepped into the Starbucks. I perused the selection of coffee mugs and half-attentively dropped some eaves on what seemed to be a job interview. Michelle came out, and we drove to my house. We kissed in the driveway, then I got out of the car, ready to go inside and relax for a little while, maybe go out and get my new computer case.

And all of a sudden, a dozen of my friends came running across the lawn from behind my house, at the head of the group Floof, Mark, and Nick.

Like that, I fell into shock.

They paraded me indoors. Nick carried me on his shoulders, and I saw that they’d completely decorated my entryway with streamers and balloons. Food covered the kitchen counter.

And there were twelve of my friends hanging around my house, smiling and laughing.

Surprise parties just don’t  happen. They’re things of movies, of television. People don’t actually hold surprise parties; yet, here I was, in the midst of one.

So we laughed. And we ate. And we talked, and I opened gifts, and we played Risk.

It was grand.

To be honest, I haven’t felt nearly as loved by so many people as I did then. To realize that, for the last week, my friends had been planning this surprise party in order to make my happy for my sixteenth birthday… wow. It was spectacular, and I loved it.

My friends: Thank you, thank you, thank you. Due to my remarkable obliviousness, I had no idea anything was going on until you raced across my yard. It was a fantastic day, and an excellent sixteenth birthday party. I really appreciate that you took the time to put this together and then come to it. Thank you so much. You guys don’t know how happy that made me. :)

I’m truly blessed to have friends like you.

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Just a quick note here.

Don’t be fooled by what Green Day says. You don’t want to be a minority.

A rebel, maybe. But being a bona fide minority isn’t anywhere near what that song cracks it up to be.


I was fairly stressed yesterday about the show. Lend Me A Tenor, the first play of the year, went up yesterday evening, and for once, I seriously felt worried about my personal performance. I was also concerned a bit about sound—we had dropped Hammerhands earlier that morning due to urgent, unforeseeable family matters for him, and trained Boy for most of the day.

I was freakin’ out.

I didn’t feel solid. My character was not set in stone, and things were still uncertain and unclear. I was going to be going to play with the character I had, not the character I wanted, and that really worried me.

But I figured that I would find a way to work things out. I talked to Kelley, the director, who helped me understand what my performances in rehearsal had been missing. With that understanding, I changed into costume, so that I could begin feeling comfortable as my character, who had just undergone a moderate revamp. I walked around stage as he would. I looked out into the audience, blurring details out so as to keep the fourth wall intact. I did everything I could to be comfortable and ready, and to sharpen my focus.

Then we started.

It can never be said that the department does not have dedicated, amazingly talented individuals in it. Boy pulled off the sound with impeccable skill, even though the job had been thrust upon him less than twelve hours earlier. There were a couple of mistakes, but nothing terrible. Boy did far better than any of us had expected, and I, for one, was absolutely awed and surprised. My hat goes off to that kid. He showed his true colours.

When I got on stage, things felt… right. The audience was laughing themselves to pieces, so the energy was naturally high. In addition. I had honed my focus and character to a spot so tight that everything seemed to work. Most of the problems I had been called on in rehearsal were all of a sudden brushed away. I was thrilled.

The show finished. We ran both curtain calls.

And then we were done, all with humongous grins of triumph and exhilaration on our faces.

Second show is tonight. :)

Well, this is slightly odd.

I think I’ve figured out why I’m so long-winded, or at least part of that.

I like to cover every base when I talk. I want to make things as clear as possible, in order to keep questions and debate and conversation to a minimum. In that sense, I suppose, I’m a terrible conversation hog–I’m certain not to mince my words even the slightest bit, which results in me saying an awful lot. I shut down responses before they can ever come, and rarely leave statements hanging out there without a sort of explanation.

This is an odd thing. It’s rather ingrained in my personality, and now that I’m aware of it, it rather bugs me. I’m certain it must bug other people.

I’m not sure how I’m going to go about changing this. Maybe it can’t be changed. At least I’m aware of it, which is the first step.

  1. Honors English 10 – Hammonds
  2. Honors Physics – Reynolds
  3. Japanese 3-4 – ?
  4. Health 2 – Hill
  5. Chamber Orchestra – Stone
  6. Future Focus – Arend
  7. Pre-Calculus – Stidham
  8. Illustrations – Telesmanich

What’s wrong with this picture? Take a look. A good look. Something’s missing.

If you picked “Acting”, you’re absolutely right.

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This post was written a long time ago, and my views have almost certainly evolved since then. Please keep that in mind while reading, commenting, or sharing.

I slugged through breakfast this morning half-awake, anticipating a nice chance for extra rest after my younger brother and dad left. Instead, I found myself becoming more alive in the shower, watching the concept of a nice, peaceful nap slip down the drain. Oh well, I thought, a peaceful shower’s okay too.

I didn’t get that either. My dad called me in the middle of my shower. I begrudgingly turned the water off, wove a towel around my waist, and answered the phone. As it turned out, my younger brother wasn’t registered for the summer daycare program today, and so the only way he could get in would be if there were any cancellations. They were heading home to wait for word of vacancies.

It wasn’t even eight o’ clock yet, and my day was looking like a bad one.

I schlepped back into the shower, thinking of all the things I wouldn’t be able to do if my brother and dad stayed home all day. Finishing, I dressed, spiked my hair, and took the five steps to my computer.

Within an hour, there was a cancellation, and so the two extra bodies in the house were out the door.

I had to go get music for my violin, so I hopped on my bike and headed down the highway to the music shop. After purchasing the book, I decided to take a long way home, and rode a loop back to my house.

The ride itself was enjoyable, and rather uneventful. No psychotic maniacs running after me, throwing knives; no squirrels dashing under my wheel. For the most of the ride, I contemplated the feeling of joy I got yesterday after learning that the girl I’ve had a crush on for the last six months also liked me. While it was a rather childish reason to be overjoyed, it’s a rare one, and so I’m attempting to remember it before it fades.

By the time I was nearly three-fourths of the way home, my legs were aching like crazy, and my mouth was getting sticky from lack of moisture. I managed to pull myself home, opened the door, and made a beeline towards the fridge, where I poured and immediately downed a glass of cold, fresh water.

Upstairs, on my computer, I Mapquest’d my route, piece by piece, and found that it came to about 9.48 miles– which I rounded to 10. I thought I had a good reason to be exhausted, seeing as I’d averaged about a pace of 10-15 mph.

I unceremoniously spent the rest of the day scheming a poster for my local highschool’s mafia, and surfing the web. While my day had started off looking a bit unfriendly, it worked itself out by midafternoon.

Bleh. Awful entry. Oh well.