My Room Likes to Eat Things...

So I have a feeling that you all believe that I am completely insane, reading that title.

But I swear... It seems like my room eats things.

Not just random things, no... the important things.

Let me just reiterate... THE IMPORTANT THINGS.

Anyways "It" has eaten my camera charger, my tablet pen, my notebook for my stories, my drawing pad, my favorite book, a whole SERIES of books, an old t-shirt that I found a while ago and then re-lost (if that is even a word...), my crochet hooks, my knitting needles, countless SEWING needles (which slightly frightens me...) and several other random objects to say a few.

So "It" never gets full.

Which is interesting, because my brother is moving out of his room soonish and I am moving into his.

So what will become of "It"?

I believe I should feed "It". And perhaps give "It" a name.

I will give "It" all the random useless objects lying around my room. I will hide them in "It"'s belly (my closet) and then "It" shall be appeased enough that "It" shall not eat my parents' stuff... which will be going into "It" when first my brother leaves his room and I clean out mine. "It" will probably feel lonely... But I shall come and give "It" some time... as "It" is my cave.

"It" has no windows and only one door. "It" is dark and the lights turn on very slowly and that annoys me. "It" also has a slanted ceiling and is very skinny, though it is much bigger than it actually appears.

Anyways...

I believe that I have become something of a NEET... I have stayed at home most of my break since... well... crap happened with my one relationship... and yeah.

But I'm dropping by Cat's house today and might be going to Zu's tomorrow... or she's coming here. Not sure.

What matters is I am slowly getting back into the school mindset of my life.

Hopefully I can see "Der Boifriend" there... I haven't seen him for a week...

Singing and Showers and... Cheese Crackers?

Have you ever noticed that it's SO MUCH FUN to sing in the shower? I think it's cause it echos. Everywhere. And perhaps you sound more like yourself when you sing in the shower. Though... I haven't tested that yet... I should.

Anyways I broke out into song since both of my parents are JUST NOW watching the Hobbit at the cinemas. And they left an hour early. In all seriousness, it's been playing in about twenty bigillion theaters down by us, AND it's been about a month since it's been out. Why in the world do they have to be so weird and leave so early? I don't understand them sometimes.

Anyways so I was singing a song my friend and I were TRYING to sing together, but the problem was I'M NOT A SOPRANO. And in fact I'm very proud of it. I have a very weak head-voice, so it's pretty difficult for me to float on the high notes. Mine sound like they take too much effort. If I move my hands, close my eyes and direct myself, I can make the notes float. But once I leave that little bit of solitude and my meditative state I just fail. Dismally.

And four years of critically acclaimed choruses have forced me to succeed my failure. And I mean, being a soprano isn't fun anyways. It's all melody and no harmony. A pretty melody is fine for five-year-olds, but I like the meat and potatoes of a song. Give me the juice. Dissonant chords, suspended cadences... the works. It's like a pizza. Cheese pizza is your favorite as a kid, but once you're an adult you want something with more variety in it.

I can't believe I just associated pizza with singing.

Anyways I was belting out "The Last Rose of Summer", which was the song I was trying to get. It's mostly difficult because it starts in my mid-range, then goes to the EXTREME high end of my voice. It's basically the highest notes that I can sing nicely on a good day. And my good days entail not having a cold, (which I might have right now,) being perfectly in practice with the song (which I haven't practiced let alone sung for nearly two months,) having an awesome warm-up (which never happens in my house since I don't have a piano or keyboard...)

Anyways I was actually getting it. The last little bit my voice got a bit tired and I 'squeaked' on the high notes. By squeaking I mean your voice takes some effort (that you feel and sometimes hear) switching from chest or mixed voice to head voice. I don't notice it when you go down... only up.

So then I changed into an improvizational version of one of my favorite riffs... "It Don't Mean a Thing". There are tons of versions of this but the one that I did I was acting as an alto. So it was chest voice all the way. And this song's my favorite 'cause if you know the key and can syncopate (when notes and rhythms aren't on the beat) you can make it jump and feel alive and it just... flows.

I guess this makes sense 'cause I love swing music and this is a good example of one of my favorites...

Then I just sat there and wondered... What'd happen if I practiced a song that I did in my chorus in senior year? So I sung a French song that we did for our Christmas concert about a year ago.

It's weird. Most people think that practicing in head voice for a long time is the only way to get it right. I felt like it was better for me to belt it and sing the lower notes more... and then sing high. Usually it's the opposite way. Perhaps that's why I could never sing high in class...

I hit a b natural a couple times... the high b kind.

Anyways now I'm just sitting and staring at my old Christmas tree that hasn't been watered in about a week or two... smelling the pine. It's nice.

Next year we should do a tree with all orbs. We have a ton since I work at a store that sells them. I can get the best price on the things 'cause I know how to abuse the coupon codes without disobeying the rules. Yay.

Uh... Happy New Year... Continue with your resolutions... and DON'T PANIC.

We survived the Avian Flu, the Swine Flu, the year 2000, the Great Recession (kind of), possibly annihilation from the North Koreans, 11-11-11, and the end of the Mayan calendar. Whatever you have to deal with now sounds less daunting... no?

The Sixth Writer

She stood, jacketed in gray.
A pen in her hand.
Journal in fist.

She usually hides away,
Going to the south end
Of the dark dist.

But her writing was a ray
Of sun on the bend,
Light on the twist.

But she stood strong and tall-
Upon an invisible pedestal
Of higher learning.

And we saw her behind a wall,
Her words were sensible,
Beautiful and charming.

Her elegance, all in all
She became indispensable.
She's in, darling.

(In Congratulations to my friend Ash, who we've added to our little writing group~)