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21.8.11

Mixing it Up

I am obviously behind on the rest of my narrative about my first day of school at the high school. Between homework and laziness, it keeps getting pushed back farther and farther away. I have started it and I am continuing to work on it until I finally finish it, but in a mix of guilt for procrastinating the end of the other one, and my delay in starting this one, I'm going to dig myself into a deeper hole and give you the beginning to yet another story. I really do need to break this habit of starting and not finishing. Trust me, I am working on it. And it might be another week before I finish one or both of these, but they will get done and I will hopefully not have anything else blogger-worthy until I do so.
So, without me blabbing on any farther, here is the beginning of my next writing project. It isn't much, but I thought I might as well. It's about time I posted about the mixer anyway.





“ ''Excuse me, Miss, but it’s time for me to hit the floor.'' And now this dancing has turn to falling. Words can’t do justice, this (boy) I know.”


He found me by the entrance as we had planned. But instead of going in, I presented him with our notebook and we continued by taking a trip back to his car. It was a small notebook of little to no financial value, but the value it held between us was higher than any notebook I have ever owned. Between its two stiff covers exist pages graced with his words, describing adventurous tales from his summer job or simple terms of endearment; such little things of such great significance. Back and forth, we filled the pages. Our love letters, conveniently in one, small notebook, now safely placed in his car. In return, a flash drive containing vast secrets on illegal projects and information that could put important people behind bars for life.
Rewind. As interesting as that might be, my significant other and I are definitely not secret agents, and if he is a spy, I’m pretty sure the only one he spies on is me... or my house...but then again, that could just be in our imaginations.
With the flash drive – that contained pictures (I could twist this one around too... but I suppose I’ll stick with what actually happened. Yes, disappointment, I know) of the Regency Jr. Idol, a competition that I performed in and he photographed, - tucked securely in my pocket, we made our way towards the entrance together, hands locked. Yes, I was rather scared, but him being there beside me and his hand surrounding mine gave me more than enough courage to envelope myself in such a strange surrounding. Whether it would give me the strength to dance was the next question. Baby-steps, one thing at a time. First things first: entering.
We paid to get in and had a green X placed boldly on the back of our hands as we entered the noisy pavilion. Step one: complete.
No one was dancing yet. It had been all summer since some of these people had seen each other so conversations we expected to be held before almost everyone got into the main part of a mixer: dancing, which happened to be the second step in the process and probably the most difficult for me to reach and maintain.




Apparently, this is where I say:
To be continued

15.8.11

Welcome to Florence


First day of my two thousand eleven school year was completed today. My stomach turns at the mere thought of trying to extract one word or phrase that could describe it. I completed my day having felt an array of emotions at different times, sometimes changing as often as the incorrectly-placed minute hands would move on every clock in the school building. I have to resist the urge to explode and spill everything out in a messy rant. So, I suppose we'll start from the top, wherever I feel that should be.... why not the very beginning, from the first time I grasped some sort of consciousness from my sleep. And I feel like writing more than usual right now, so there's no telling how long this is going to be.

The odd, muffled sound of the cell phone that my brother and I share on emergencies pulled me out of my night's rest. It was a moment before I could realize what it was and a moment longer before I could open my own eyes. The room was still dark. Obviously, I had beaten the sun in rising earlier. I silenced the continuous vibrating coming from the phone, an alarm I’d set to wake me up at this time in the morning. I put it away and quickly replaced it with my iPod, pressing and holding the power button to turn it on. Luckily, it gave me the screen that it needed to be charged before it would do anything. I quickly placed it on my charger, conveniently placed beside my bed, and laid back down, facing the ceiling. It was silent in my house. For all I knew, my mom could still be asleep downstairs. It was understandable, though. Who else had a reason to get up at 5:30, other than myself, obviously? I waited patiently, in silence as my iPod slowly booted up. If there weren’t two other people occupying my room asleep, I might have gone ahead and started my day, but I had to remain there, quiet, stirring as little as possible, as to not wake up my fellow cousins. I tried not to close my eyes, in fear of drifting back off into sleep. My eyes yearned for just a little more time closed, but I had other plans and I didn't want accidental sleep to be the reason I couldn't complete those plans. My iPod finally loaded up and, still in a haze, I entered the familiar password with three quick taps and opened the app I use to text as I slowly gaining a grasp on some sort of alertness. Once it'd completely loaded, I opened the conversation between the person behind my password and myself.
I quickly wished him a good morning and, knowing that, if he’d followed his own plans, he’d already be up, didn’t bother laying back down. Instead, I propped myself up on my shoulder and patiently waited for his reply. Yes, that was my reason for rising earlier than anyone else in my house: to get to talk to him. I haven’t done it for anyone else and I wouldn’t. He’s the only exception.
As time went by and 6:00 rolled nearer, I was becoming anxious to get up and start getting ready. Last year, my mother woke my up at 6:15. Having to leave the house earlier this year and having six more people in the house, I assumed she’d wake me up at six. My aunt came in to wake up one of my cousins to get ready for school and I used her as an excuse for getting up. I went and grabbed the shirt I had decided to wear and the pants I had already retrieved the night before and quickly went and changed in the bathroom. Afterwards, I returned to my room to text him back before I went out to eat breakfast. My mom, not realizing I was already up and at it, walked back to my room, poking her head in. She found me fully dressed, standing beside my bed, tapping away at my iPod. I smiled and wished her a good morning. She returned it and began to turn away. Not getting more than three steps from my room, she turned back around and poked her head in again. Finishing my text, I put it down as she said, "Are you texting?"
“Yes?" I replied.
"Are you texting someone this early in the morning?”
"Yes," I repeated, walking past her and out of my room. I almost mentioned who and the fact that’d he'd been up since 5:15 cause he had to go to the store, but the tone of her voice, especially the second time, cautioned me not to. "Noo!" she said, surprisingly sternly as if I was a three year old who had touched something that could be easily broken. It was weird. I gave her a vague, "okay," but of course, that didn't stop me. I don’t know what her fuss was about. It was six and I was fully dressed. That never happens. It wasn’t like I was behind schedule; I was far ahead.
I went out into the kitchen to indulge myself in (drum roll)... a bowl of cereal. No more wonderful, first-day-of-school breakfasts like we used to have before I got into ninth grade. I don’t blame her for this one, though. Who wants to make scrambled eggs and bacon for five kids? Well, the real question is: ‘who wants to get up that early and prepare that much?’ Even if she had, I probably wouldn’t have eaten very much of it. I was not used to eating that early and I had the feeling I was going to be rather hungry before lunchtime rolled around....
Finishing my preparation for school didn’t take much longer than that. If it wasn’t for my sluggish brother, I could have been out of the door by seven, but Jeremy delayed us till ten after. It’s his fault if there is a bunch of traffic by the time she drops me off first because he didn’t prepare himself fast enough. But I got to school in plenty of time, nonetheless.

I suppose this will be another 'to be continued' post. My eyes hurt from staring at the screen and it's fairly late. So...

To be continued.

12.8.11

Final Friday


Originally, I was going to go straight into talking about how rather excited I am about school starting, but that was before I decided to attend something before then. So, I thought I might as well go in order.
So where am I going before Monday that deserves to be written about?
This little bluebird is attending a mixer: something I never thought I would ever say.
A mixer is a party that the sororities at our school host that mixes all the grades together. It’s like a huge dance party. And I’ve been terrified of them ever since I'd heard of them. Why? Because I have heard of bad things happening at mixers but I didn’t know what was true and what were rumors. I suppose I was just afraid of the unknown. Until Monday of this week, I have been scared to go to one, but Latosha finally convinced me to go to the start-of-school one today. I let in on one condition: Davis’s attendance. I don’t dance on/with people for no reason and I don’t dance ‘on’ people in general. I really do have a level of modesty. I’m not up tight but I have standards and things that I won’t do or won’t associate myself with people that do. I told her that I  won’t be attending any more after one of them goes terribly wrong or becomes ridiculously inappropriate.  It starts in about thirty minutes, but I felt I needed to go ahead and get this in here before hand. Of course, I’ll probably have something to write about it afterwards.
It’s weird not having anything to say about drama. It’s nice at the same time, too. But, it means there will probably be less writing from me. Maybe, maybe not. Depends on school which I'll have to talk  about later, seeing as I  need to exit the house soon.
Gonna go party.
Oh goodness..

5.8.11

Third. Second. First Fridays

My summer literally consists of:

Babysitting
A small vacation
and 
First Fridays

So which of these is my favorite? First Fridays, hands down! It's the only time I get to see my friends most of the summer because of my job. Don't get me wrong, camilla-sitting is a blast, but I live for my friends and my life wouldn't be as insane if they didn't exist.
First Fridays is a function that they have downtown all the way down Court street that happens the first friday of every month. Vendors line the blocked off street selling home-made items from bread (The ginger, bread man) to jewelry, to sock monkeys. Music is provided by local bands and artists on Mobile St. 
So, my ridiculous friends and I always meet at the same place at the same time every first friday and begin our adventure, idly wandering the streets, conversing and trying to keep up with everyone. Where to first? Well, we've pretty much made it tradition to go to Freds. Random, right? of course! But we have too much fun! I'm surprised we haven't gotten kicked out yet. It's always something new because every time we go, there will be a person there that wasn't there the last time or someone not there that was the last time.

Davis is being an Asian spy while Caitlin and I are hiding in the
tissue isle... literally.
"Get your camera ready and get her reaction" -Davis
I think he could pull that off, don't you?
Skipping down the isles
Latosha's showing off.
Epic. Noodle. War. Enough said.
It was July first! We were in a patriotic mood.
What's more patriotic than a parade?
Adrienne bought pudding. Lizzy bought straws.
Why not?

So after we complete our adventure in the great store of Freds, where do we venture to? Why not Wilson park? It isn't a part of First fridays, but it's semi-empty and it's much easier to keep up with our group where there are less people.

Sibling power!
Red ringpop. Blue ringpop. We are purple.
Ask Caitlin, we are master hoola-hoop partners.

When it comes down to it, we really don't pay too much attention to what al goes on at first fridays. It's pretty much just our excuse to go hang out downtown together. We're awesome like that.
So why have I just now thought of sharing this wonderful event? Because today is Friday, the first one in August. This First Friday will be the last one before school starts and I'm completely excited about the beginning of school. I absolutely love my schedule and my friends that fall into that schedule. The only way it could be more perfect is if Davis shared a class with me, but him being in the grade above me makes that rather difficult to obtain. But that's what the five minutes in between class periods are for, duuhh! Yes, I'm excited. Probably more than I should be, but I'm looking forward to our annual musical and show choir and sharing a musical theatre class with some people I adore (that are in my grade this year!) Looks like it's going to be a fantastic sophomore year.