In Which Antigone is Decidedly Not Hilarious

I’m gonna go ahead and just put forth that at times I can have a slightly morbid sense of humor. (Roald Dahl, anyone? The funniest parts of his books are the parts during which people die. I don’t even know.)

This having been said, in 10th grade when I first read Antigone, I thought I was the most hilarious thing ever. (If you’ve read Antigone, you’ll realize why this is odd.) If you haven’t read Antigone, spoiler alert, but there’s rather a lot of suicide. It’s Sophocles, what did you expect.

I’m not exactly sure what I missed at the age of fourteen, but as I was at one of my most cynical ages, I immediately dismissed the main heroine of the play as overdramatic and ridiculous. “Oh, I want to die; in fact, your method of dying is taking too long! I’m just going to hang myself on my veil instead.”

—note to self for later: does Antigone rob herself of her honor by committing suicide instead of being executed… Though she was going to be executed later? And is it notable that she kills herself in the same manner as her mother does? (Probably not, seeing as Oedipus Rex was actually written after Antigone.)

I see much more in my rereading; in setting aside my cynicism (and looking at the play from an angle of intellectualism instead of mockery as well as keeping in mind how much I loved Oedipus Rex) I finally understand Antigone – and I don’t know what to make of her! She is quite the character. I can’t decide if I like her or not. One sees her as a type of Achilles, aspiring after honor & nobility above all via the path of family loyalty. She makes a martyr of herself in an attempt to repair the family honor ruined by her traitorous brother (and perhaps her accidentally incestuous father? This puzzles me – does Antigone do what she does out of love for her family or does she really think she can restore honor? Given the actions of Oedipus I don’t really think that’s possible in any way). She wants to die and she wants her deeds proclaimed not because she’s the main character of a soap opera, but because she wants the honor that comes from her deeds. The question is begged: if a girl buries her brother contrary to the law and no one is around to see it, does it make an impact? By courageously proclaiming and defending her actions, Antigone wins for herself outrage and support of the people of Thebes. No one remembers that her brother was a traitor, just that Creon ordered him to decay ignobly and Antigone risked her life to honor him as was proper in the eyes of the gods. But… Does this make her likeable? Not that it’s necessary for a main character to be likeable (I feel like that’s an argument that people usually feel the need to make for The Catcher in the Rye, but I actually love Holden… I’m probably just weird), but I’m definitely my terms poorly – it’s more that I can’t decide if she’s morally correct in her actions/of good character. Her actions reek of selfishness to me… Perhaps it’s because of my modern mindset, but she does seem to be making rather a large fuss over something she said was for the sake of the dead and not those still living. Her family loyalty obviously doesn’t extend very far – or, actually, extends too far. She completely rejects Ismene as a sister when Ismene doesn’t assist her in burying her brother. (Will die for her brother when he turns traitor to the city but completely disavows her sister for not breaking the law, even though she is willing to face the consequences beside Antigone? How much of this complete lack of loyalty to country is due to the fact that she believes Thebes to have wronged her father and ruined her family?)  However, Isemene intrigues me probably the most of any character in the play… She’s not the Anti-Antigone, but… Almost the midpoint of the two extremes? The combination of the two loyalties and two moralities set opposite each other in the play.

But I don’t know. I wonder if I’ll ever figure it out; right now I’ll be content with the fact that I’m not treating it as a comedy anymore. 😉

If this post makes absolutely zero sense, I apologize, I wrote the vast majority of it at 3 AM last night. (I couldn’t sleep.) Rereading it, it’s almost an internal monologue of my sleep-deprived brain attempting to riddle out Greek tragedy. My life, ladies and gentlemen. 😛

Thanks for reading & best wishes,


As I Go Headfirst Down the Stairs

In this dimly lit study I drink my coffee and peer creepily at the cars rolling down the street, essentially ignoring all forms of  actual study. To my left are two papal encyclicals (that I’ve finished reading, thank goodness); to my right is another that is as of yet unread, but needs to be by Thursday… In front of me a book of Plato’s Dialogues, Greek Tragedies, and Boethius’ The Consolation of Philosophy, along with my notebooks and my folders for Driver’s Ed.

My elbow rests on my orchestra paperwork, reminding me that I still have four études, a scale, and half a solo (it should be the whole solo, but I’m hopeless) to practice on my cello, who waits patiently upstairs completely surrounded with sheet music.

Amid all this, I write a blog post and blink sullenly with the Beatles blaring in the background. It seems that when I have only a little bit of work to do, I view it as less important and so I put it off. But then when it piles up I stress to the point where I am just drowning in it so I banish it from my mind and don’t do it either.

It’s kind of a lose-lose situation.

[Enter many hours later.]

Oh. Also. I procrastinate on my methods of procrastination. For instance, this blog post! Yeah, I’m basically the worst. I also can’t remember what my original purpose in writing was.


Right. I’m stressed. My mom also does this uncanny thing where she walks in and starts scolding me for not working on something that I’ve actually been working on and freaking out about already. The thing is, I’m very self-regulated, and chances are that by the time you have to nag me to do something, I’ve been guilt-tripping myself over it for hours. I seem to live my life in constant panic mode.

This is something I’ve noticed recently, specifically with cello: I am a hugely tense person. I got a new cello teacher and he frequently does this thing where he looks over and goes, “Just relax your arms! No – no! Relax!” or “You remind me of how I used to be, you keep all your tension right in your jaw… Let it go.” “But I have to tense somewhere!” “No. You don’t.”

*insert feeble excuse here*

Physically, I am tense. I wake up every morning with an aching back because I clench my muscles while I sleep. I can’t just sit still; I’m jittery. I fiddle with everything – I was on a Skype call with my friend Sarah and I realized that within the space of ten minutes I’d pressed all the buttons on my calculator, turned my phone on and off six times, played with my watch, flipped through a book, spun all the buttons on my shirt around both clockwise and counterclockwise, pulled my purity ring off my finger and put it back on more times than I could count… I am physically incapable of relaxing.

I’m the same way emotionally, too. I worry incessantly – about me, what I’m doing, my life, my decisions, my failures, the amount of work I have to do… worry worry worry. I worry about other people – I have a friend who every single time he goes to a party or out at all, really, I spend the entire time wringing my hands and thinking he’s going to end up dead in a ditch or something. I’m serious! It’s constant. If I can worry about it, I will worry about it. It eats me up, my heart basically gets completely wrung out every time someone takes longer than usual to respond to a text message or I have to say something awkward to them or I think they’re upset. I’m basically a mother hen who kind of just herds all her chicks and has a complete aneurysm every time one of them is even vaguely sort of possibly out of sorts. (At art camp they called me Dorm Mom because I immediately fell into the mother position and started snapping at everyone and keeping them in line. I’m “Mumsy” to a number of my friends because I’m such a Mom about EVERYTHING.)

Overall in my life, I am happy. I stress about the work I’m doing, but ultimately I’m doing the work because I love it. Greek philosophy and drama? I’m in love with it. Cello? Same. I worry about myself and my life because I want to make sure I’m doing things that are good and true and beautiful. I worry about my friends because I love them more than life – and surely that’s a good thing?

And my restless leg syndrome is probably due to the excessive amounts of coffee I consume daily and my failure to have a normal sleep schedule. 😉 No one to blame but myself.

Even though sometimes I feel like I’m flailing and falling headfirst down the stairs, ultimately I am having one of the best summers I have ever had, with the best friends I could possibly ask for, doing everything I love, and crossing off item after item on my summer bucket list.

I realized basically two seconds ago while kind of aimlessly staring at my dresser at my favorite photo of me and Essie that failing does not make me a failure; that just because I don’t accomplish every impossible task I set down for myself, I am doing everything I can to the best of my ability, having fun, seeking wisdom, and hopefully growing a bit in the process.

After all, isn’t that what being young is all about? I may be an old biddy at heart, with my affinity for cats and sweaters and completely ancient music, and my tendency to fret endlessly about the people I care about most, and my everpresent grumpiness, but I am me and I am young and because of that I am learning and laughing and loving… and that desire to always seek wisdom, to always be able to laugh at myself and enjoy my life, and my unbridled and unabashed love for my friends and family… that is what’s going to keep me as the most youthful, hip hop & happenin’ old biddy there is for every day of my life.

Thanks for reading & best wishes!

Things of Little Consequence

Today I want to devote an entire blog post to all the issues I have with Avril Lavigne’s ‘Sk8er Boi’. Stupid? Yes. But the dang song is stuck in my head and there is so much wrong with it that I feel the need to get this rant out of my system.

Let’s go line by line, shall we?

He was a boy
She was a girl
Can I make it anymore obvious?

So far, fine. Girl, boy, classic love story set up.

He was a punk.
She did ballet.
What more can I say?

Quite a bit more, actually. I get that this is a song, and this line is used to reflect that they had pretty different personalities, but being a punk/doing ballet does not epitomize you as a person.

He wanted her.
She’d never tell.
Secretly she wanted him as well.

Here’s where I start having issues. Besides the fact that we’re using the word ‘wanted’ instead of ‘was in love with’ (which says to me that this is obviously a really superficial relationship), we also have to deal with the fact that this ballerina girl is ashamed of ‘wanting’ this guy. I’m sorry, but if you really care about someone, you’re not ashamed of them – no matter what others think. Which leads us to the next line.

And all of her friends
Stuck up their nose.
And they had a problem with his baggy clothes.

In my time I’ve seen two ways that this can be interpreted: 1) Ballerina Girl’s friends are all snobs and need to get over themselves, and are also not Ballerina Girl’s real friends, because if they were her real friends, they’d like him because she liked him and they want her to be happy. 2) Ballerina Girl’s friends care too much about her to see her go off with this punk/skater dude who doesn’t exactly sound like a savory person. I mean, clothes are one thing, but personality and behavior are another. (If one of my friends liked a guy who was treated people badly or didn’t have respect for authority or otherwise made him a bad influence, I would have issues, and pull a Mr. Darcy from Pride and Prejudice. “My objections to the marriage were not merely those which I last night acknowledged to have the utmost force of passion to put aside, in my own case; the want of connection could not be so great an evil to my friend as to me…”) Either way, this line is just wrong, juxtaposed with the next one.

He was a skater boy, she said see ya later boy.
He wasn’t good enough for her.
She had a pretty face but her head was up in space.
She needed to come back down to earth.

Okay, so this one also has two interpretations, the former of which is more likely: Ballerina Girl listened to her snobby friends and turned down Skater/Punk Dude not because he was bad for her morally, but because he was poor or a punk or not a ballerina or some other superficial reason. The less likely reason is that Ballerina Girl turned down Skater/Punk Dude because he was legitimately morally bad for her, as her friends told her, and Avril Lavigne is mocking this decision. So either she was superficial, or she wasn’t superficial and Lavigne is calling her an idiot for leaving a guy who was apparently hot/talented.

Five years from now, she sits at home feeding the baby, she’s all alone.
She turns on TV and guess who she sees?
Skater boy rockin’ up MTV.
She calls up her friends.
They already know
And they’ve all got tickets to see his show.
She tags along, stands in the crowd.
Looks up at the man that she turned down.

Okay, this is the part of the song that bothers me the most. She has a baby, which, assuming the best case scenario, means that she was in love with someone who was also in love with her, and they got married and had a baby and he’s either still there and just not present in this scene, or he left/something happened to him. So then this girl, with her child, born of a man she obviously loved very much and should either be remembering or mourning or something, goes to a concert to regret her decisions because the guy she liked as a teenager is a rock star now. What is this? Is she supposed to throw away everything she had with the father of her child because this dude is a rock star? Does she have no integrity? What real woman would experience regret at a loving, obviously fruitful, if short-lived relationship because a relationship that could have happened with a famous dude didn’t? I mean, come on! I’ve had crushes on people before, and I don’t think in a million years that, after having grown up, gotten married and had children, I would go back to having a crush on them because they can play a guitar moderately well.

He was a skater boy, she said see ya later boy.
He wasn’t good enough for her.
Now he’s a superstar
Slammin’ on his guitar
To show pretty faces what he’s worth.

This line is also obnoxious. Because your worth is entirely in the fact that you’re a superstar! Apparently! It’s like, “Hey, this girl turned me down. What should I do? I know! Not change my personality or anything at all, not maybe shape up my life and become a respectable gentleman so this doesn’t happen again – nah! I’ll become a ROCKSTAR, so I can have a bunch of groupies and girls who have no self confidence/worth hanging all over me, and then she’ll regret not dating me because I’m FAMOUS now!” In what universe does this make sense? If I got turned down by a guy for reasons based on station of life/personality/whatever, I’d either a) move on, or b) in following the same route as Skater/Punk Dude, go for a profession that actually shows my self worth! Like, hey, I was an awesome girl, I’m a writer/famous cellist/charity worker with a great personality now, too bad you couldn’t see past my non-designer clothes and really get to know me! Instead, this guy, who was turned down FOR SUPERFICIAL REASONS goes off and pursues ONE OF THE MOST SUPERFICIAL CAREERS EVER. What’s this girl supposed to think? “Aw, dang it, look at how famous that guy is. I really missed out – he would have made me happy… I mean, how could that relationship go wrong? He’s so famous, everything would be perfect and his riches and fame would make me happy…” Logic check, please.

Sorry girl but you missed out.
Well tough luck that boy’s mine now.
We are more than just good friends.
This is how the story ends.
Too bad that you couldn’t see…
See the man that boy could be.
There is more than meets the eye,
I see the soul that is inside.

Okay. So now Lavigne is mocking this girl who made life choices that may or may not have been wrong, after ridiculing the fact that she MAJORLY SCREWED UP by not dating this über famous guitar player when she had the chance and therefore her life is terrible and she will never be happy ever just because she didn’t date a rock star… And then she has the nerve to throw in a line about ‘soul’ – Avril, I’m pretty positive from everything you’ve said so far that you don’t really care about this guy’s soul. You’re dating him because he’s a rock star and making fun of the girl who didn’t. If he had a winning personality and a soul that would have made him right for this girl, he probably wouldn’t have decided to become a rock star to show her what she was missing. (Try a humanitarian or a doctor, if we’re going to go down the career route – not that someone’s career showcases their personality. Honestly, he should have actually talked to her, since she obviously cared – well, ‘wanted’ this guy. If he had such a deep soul or whatever, she would love him regardless of the bagginess of his clothing.)

He’s just a boy, and I’m just a girl.
Can I make it anymore obvious?
We are in love.
Haven’t you heard how we rock each other’s world?

Yay, Avril, you love the guy. Good for you. I hope you feel better, taunting the girl who almost had him first. ALSO, you seem to think that she would be in your shoes if she hadn’t turned him down. So, two questions for you: 1) how many relationships that start as teenagers last for very long? 2) How many relationships with ROCK STARS last for very long? All I can see as that Ballerina Girl would have dated this guy for superficial reasons, and now she’d be in the same place she is now, except she went through a breakup with this guy – even more painful – and would not have a baby, a baby who is probably pretty dang precious to her.

I’m with the skater boy I said see ya later boy.
I’ll be backstage after the show.
I’ll be at the studio singing the song we wrote about a girl you used to know.

Well, that’s hardly necessary, is it?

Anyway, I know it doesn’t really matter and it’s kind of stupid to complain about a pop song that came out in 2002, but it just really bothers me that this is society’s view on women. Didn’t date a rock star? Life wasted. Hope you enjoy regretting that decision until the day you die. Like you can’t live a happy, full life without dating someone famous or cool! And now you’re stuck with a baby from pursuing true love – so, oops, looks like your whole life is ruined! I, for one, hope that I marry a giant dork who isn’t cool or famous in the slightest, and then have a gazillion kids so my life is as ruined as I can possibly get it, and I KNOW that will make me incredibly happy, despite the fact that Avril Lavigne and the rest of the world things it won’t.

I’ll do my question post on Wednesday, providing I get some more questions. Leave them in the comments, and as always, thanks for reading!


Caerwyn Bio [Part 1]

So, I’m really, really excited about Camp NaNo. Like, really excited. I’m so excited about my novel idea and my characters… I’m thinking about it 24/7. (You know, when I’m not freaking out about my cello audition… But that’s a given.)


Those are my Theology of the Body notes from Sunday, on which I doodled my four main characters in profile. (Rhys was more difficult than the others, lol.) Serafina (the girl with the huge fuzzy hair) is the bad guy – I’m considering changing her name, because the other characters are Caerwyn, Eoin, and Rhys… Gaelic name, Gaelic name, Gaelic name, and then a name that sounds like it came out of a Barbie movie. Suggestions welcome, leave them in comments.

Anyway, because I’m so excited, I am going to devote my blog posts from now until June to revealing bits and pieces of my novel. Starting today with my protagonist’s character biography! It’s rather long, so I’m going to split it into two posts. Apologies for how scattered this is – it only really has to make sense to me, so I tend to write the way I think… In short, fragmental bursts.

Name: Caerwyn (currently last-name-less)

Age: 17

Gender: Female

Appearance: Very tall and muscular, but not overly so. Has defined muscles, but not bulging. Long wavy brown hair, tied back with a white ribbon. Brown eyes that glow with a silver aura when she performs magic. Not really tan, but not super pale either. A few freckles.

Height: 5’10”

Strange or unique physical characteristics: Stronger than she looks, terrible singing voice unless she’s using her magic.

Favorite clothing style/outfit: Loose tunic and breeches for training, or official uniform when on duty. Anything but the gown she’s forced to wear for galas.

Where does she live? Eildur Castle.

What is it like?  – Eildur Castle is the capitol of the kingdom – the city & castle walls are built of white stone. The streets are bustling and safe. The only unsavory part of the city are the dungeons… Unfortunately, that’s where Caerwyn spends most of her time.

Defining gestures: Punctuates her sentences with hand motions, chews her lip when she’s thinking, curls and uncurls fingers before performing a spell (focusing on the rhythm of her hands clears her mind)

Speaking style: Tends to be more thoughtful. She’s short and to the point, unless she’s with her friends.

Pet peeves: Arrogance. She knows that a true knight is humble, so the jerk initiates get on her nerves. Also ignorance.

Fondest memory: Her father giving her her first sword during the initiation ceremony.

Hobbies/Interests: Swordplay, juggling, going down to the tavern with her friends, dancing.

Special skills/abilities: Magic, for one. She’s a fast learner and a good listener.

Insecurities: She worries that she won’t make full knight, that she’s not good enough to hold back the princess, and on the rare occasions that she wants to feel pretty, she doesn’t.

Quirks: Mind is quietest before a fight. Thinks better if she’s doing something with her hands.

Temperament: Not shy, but not outgoing either. Everyone knows her, but she counts very few as her friends.

Negative traits: Lets her anger and emotions build up inside of her until it all comes out in one explosive outburst.

Things that upset her: Disappointing her superiors, feeling inadequate.

Things that embarrass her: Screwing up a drill or screwing up on the job. Also waking up and realizing how drunk she was the night prior. 😉

This character is highly opinionated about: DUTY.

Any phobias? Not anything major.

Things that make her happy: Being with her friends, accomplishment.

Family: Mother and Father are nobles from an outlying kingdom. Always taught Caerwyn that she could be anything she wanted in life – didn’t expect her to run off and become a knight.

Deepest darkest secret: Serafina terrifies her. She still has nightmares about the ‘incident’.

Reason she has kept this secret for so long: She’s afraid that she will be removed from her post and deemed unworthy for full knighthood.

And that’s it for now. I’ll post the second half on Sunday.

In other news, I crashed my bike yesterday, but I’m okay aside from some bruises and a sprain in my neck. C’est la vie. See, Nick, this is why I don’t exercise. It’s dangerous!


On My Own

‘I love him… But every day I’m learning… All my life, I’ve only been pretending! Without me, his world would go on turning – a word that’s full of happiness that I have never known!” 

Seems fitting to start off with a romantically depressing Les Misérables song, what with what day it is and everything. As you’ve probably noticed, it’s not Wednesday, but I decided to post early this week and give you guys a good cheering up on Valentine’s Day.

I’ll be the first to admit it: I don’t like Valentine’s Day. It’s not that I don’t like the idea of Valentine’s Day, I just don’t like the outcome (of lack thereof). My problem is this: I am a hopeless romantic. I’m just such a girl in that respect. Even though I don’t have a significant other (nor do I plan to have one any time in the near future) I can’t help but feel like something has to happen on Valentine’s Day. SOMETHING. But nothing ever happens, and so my hopelessly romantic side makes me all depressed.

Which is how I feel right now. I really tried to prevent this from happening this year, and my method might have worked, except that I care too much about this holiday. It’s so stupid – I shouldn’t care. But I do. C’est la vie.

Anyway! What I tried to do this year is focus on non-romantic love. I’m super blessed to have a bunch of people in my life who love me, and I have a lot of love for them (my family, my friends, etc). So I made valentines for my best friends, inside of which I listed a bunch of reasons why I love them. (I still haven’t passed all of these out, by the way, so Essie or Morgann – if you’re reading this and thinking, “What? I don’t have one of those!” I haven’t gotten them to you yet. 😛 I have not forgotten you!)

It really helped me to focus on why I love my friends and how much I love my friends, and how thankful I am for them. If you want to take your mind off of how ‘lonely’ you are, and how depressing Valentine’s Day is, you should try it! You don’t have to go all out with the construction paper and the lace, but just send all of your friends a quick email to tell them you’re thinking about them and that you love them.

Or we could all just be like this guy.


Oh, well. I’d better get back to reading about the biochemical challenges to evolution. Happy Valentine’s Day, everybody. I love you all!


I Could Have Danced All Night

The fact that I have now had two consecutive blog titles containing a My Fair Lady reference worries me. Especially because I don’t even particularly like My Fair Lady all that much, plus I just went to see WICKED for the second time, so my head should be full of that.

Whatever. I’ve had the most amazing weekend ever, and I will now try to synopsize it for you guys.


Saturday morning I pulled myself out of bed at the ungodly hour of seven AM and my dad drove me and my friend to the convention center for a retreat. The theme of the retreat was ‘Made To Love’ and the keynote speaker was Jason Evert. (For those of you who don’t know, Jason Evert is this ridiculously amazing and hilarious chastity speaker. You should check him out.) However, the people running the retreat were having some scheduling problems, which led to us sitting around for a while taking pictures of our feet and writing on ourselves. (Ink poisoning FTW.)

Eventually, they sent the boys into a different room and we had these two guys come up and talk to all the girls about how both men and women are made in God’s image, and how we all possess some of the qualities of God Himself. In the guys we can see God’s strength, adventurousness, and in the women we can see God’s beauty and mystery. (Personally, I think we girls got the better deal. ;)) They talked about how men have an innate desire to be conquerors – it’s ingrained in their being to need to conquer things. (Also, a cool quote from a cardinal – I think – whose name I have forgotten, “The world tells man to conquer a woman for himself. God tells man to conquer himself for a woman.”) This is kind of cool because if a guy genuinely loves a girl and the girl has high standards, the guy will do basically anything to meet her standards. So girls, set the bar high. 😛

At the beginning of that talk, they made all the girls in the room compile a list of qualities they look for in a guy. This would have been fine, except they made all the guys in the other room compile a list of qualities they thought girls looked for in a guy. The lists matched almost exactly, except that the guys included ‘money’ and ‘a beard.’ (The best part was that all of the girls from my group groaned and basically facepalmed because WE KNEW that our friend had put that on the list. The big dork.)

Moving on! We had lunch. I had a vegetarian sandwich with entirely too much mayonnaise on it. HURRAH.

Then Jason Evert came up and talked. I never expected him to be so funny. I only took a few notes because I was too busy laughing my head off, but I did write down this one thing… He said that if he could only talk to us for sixty seconds, he’d tell us that, “No girl on earth will ever convince other people that she has dignity and should be respected unless she convinces herself.” (That’s important. That’s why it’s in bold.)

All of the other pictures look rather the same, so I shall SKIP THEM! *triumphant trumpet music* (By the way, I am not going to explain these pictures at all, so deal with it. :P)

At the end of the retreat we had Mass. After the Eucharist I was suddenly hit with how much Jesus loves me. I acutely felt it like a knife in my chest – how much Jesus had done for me, despite the fact that I am so low – so low – and I will never ever ever ever ever ever (to the billionth power) be able to deserve it. No matter what I do. It makes me feel like crying, both because I feel so awful for my repeated, continual failure and because it feels so amazing to be loved like that.

I was going to apologize for how religion-heavy that paragraph is, but you know what? I won’t. I cannot apologize for my faith. I am enamored with Christ, my Lord, and I am not sorry about it. At all.

Once the retreat was over, my friend-with-the-beard and his brother, my best-friend-sans-beard, drove me to this Sadie Hawkins dance. (Well, bearded-friend drove – they can’t both drive. That’d be weird.) The dance was amazing. I danced like a complete maniac – I am so sore today. We had so much fun with the strobe lights (we are such dorks). There was a lot of swing music, so I danced with three of my guy friends: my best friend, who I usually dance with, my other friend who I’d danced with a couple times (so I kept flubbing it up because I was used to dancing with said best friend), and my other friend who didn’t know how to dance, so I had to teach him.

Toward the end of the dance, they played ‘Dancing Through Life’ and I started completely freaking out. Nobody had any clue why, so I had to scream (in between lines, of course), “IT’S FROM WICKED!” And then of course, I started singing it, but Dancing Through Life is sung by a tenor, which means it’s too low for my little girly voice, but if I try to bump it up an octave, it’s too high. So I basically just had to yell the words (since I couldn’t sing them), and add this to the fact that I was jumping around like an absolute idiot… My non-Wicked-savvy friends were raising their eyebrows and thinking, “Oh, she’s lost it now.” (I’m looking at you, Mon-la.)

To quickly wrap up the rest of Saturday night (because this is getting really long and I still have to get through Sunday), I slow danced with this guy that I kind of dislike, halfway because I was dared to, halfway because I thought it’d be hilarious. (It was actually just awkward, so, fail.) The DJ announced that the next song was the last song, and I was going to dance with guy-I-didn’t-really-like’s cousin/my non-Wicked-savvy-friend’s older brother (again, as a joke), but I couldn’t find him, so I just danced with my best-friend-sans-beard. I figured I’d dance with somebody I actually liked for the last song. 😛

The dance ended really late at night, so as my friend-with-the-beard drove me home (he’s the only licensed driver in our circle of friends who my mother will let drive me anywhere), my best-friend-sans-beard points out, “Hey, isn’t it illegal for you to drive past midnight?” (According to state law, you have to be licensed for a year before you’re able to drive after midnight.) At this point it’s 11:47 PM and we’re about 10 minutes away from my house. Note that these guys live, like, fifteen minutes away from me. You do the math. I was like, “Ohhh… Shoot.” So, yes. Illegal activity of the day! (Kids: don’t try this at home.)

End Saturday.


Dad and I drove for aaaaaaaages (and ages and ages) so I could go see Wicked with my aunt. I’ve seen it before, and seeing it a second time was slightly less powerful. I mean, it was still amazing and magical and wonderful and all things fantastic, but I knew what was coming and how it ended, so it was like part of the anticipation was gone. Does that make sense? It’s sort of sad, because I’ll never be able to recapture the feeling of seeing it for the first time – but that in no way means I’m going to stop going to see it. It is still my favorite musical and it is still unbelievably incredible. So, bravo, Stephen Shwartz and Co. Bravo.

The cast of this show was pretty much the same cast as last time I went to see it, but they had a different Glinda, and this performance with the understudy for both Elphaba and Fiyero. I was excited about this, because I thought it’d be cool to see a different portrayal of the characters. They didn’t disappoint. I completely fell in love with Fiyero all over again. And even though in my heart, David Nathan Perlow will always be the one true Fiyero, because I saw him in the role first, this guy was still pretty awesome. (And, yes, Julia – pretty attractive, too – or at least I thought so. I didn’t get to meet him up close like I did with DNP, so I can’t be sure, but from where I was sitting, he looked pretty good. I cannot cast official judgement, however, so we must leave this unresolved.)

Can y’all give me, like, ten seconds to fangirl? Okay. Thanks. *gigantic swoon thing* I LOVE FIYERO. SO MUCH. Not even the actors that play him, just the character. Just FIYERO. Goodness. Goodness. *swoons again* “I don’t even think he’s perfect anymore and I still want him!” (Oh, Glinda.) Which now prompts one of my favorite exchanges in the whole musical: “He’s been moody and distant… And he’s been thinking.” *enter Fiyero* “Elphaba! Listen, I’ve been thinking…” “I heard.”

Gah. I just love it all so much.

And yes, before you ask – I did fork over twenty bucks for one of those fancy programs. Don’t judge me.

All in all, going to see this play again and falling in love with the characters again has only convinced me further that the blood running through my veins is a glittering emerald green.

Alright, I’m going to bed. I apologize for this novel length, completely confusing post. I’m probably going to reread this tomorrow and go, “What on earth…?”

Sleep deprivation is fun. Whoohoo.

Thanks for reading, guys. It means a lot.


‘Ow D’you Do?

Think Eliza Doolittle from My Fair Lady, pre-Higgins. 😉

Okay. Apparently I am incapable of doing anything without making a reference to some musical or another. (Then again, I already knew this.) If you’re planning on sticking around, you should probably get used to it.

Anyway, hi! As it says up at the top, I’m Hero. These are my endeavors. (Or, rather, these are going to be my endeavors… This is my first post, so I there are no endeavors to speak of as yet.) For some reason, I decided that because I’m already completely crushed under my schoolwork, my obsessive devotion to cello, my writing, and all those other less important things (Driver’s Ed, the SAT & ACT prep, etc.), the most sensible thing for me to do would be to start a new project! Of course!

In my defense, it wasn’t my idea.

Quick backstory of this blog (cue ripple effect): About a month ago, while watching one of the Republican debates on Fox News, I expressed to my mom that I might be interested in majoring in journalism in college. (Slightly relevant side note: college is completely freaking me out, and at this point I’m looking at everything like it’s something I could possibly major in. “Hey, what’s this?” “Um, that’s a banana.” “Huh… Maybe I should major in agriculture… After all, that quiz did say that I was from District 11…” But I digress. BACK TO THE FLASHBACK.) A week or so later, my mom was talking to one of her friends who actually had majored in journalism in college. Mom’s friend said that because I like creative writing, perhaps journalism wasn’t the route for me. She suggested to my mom that maybe I should start a blog, as a creative outlet and as a way to develop my voice as a writer.

So, here I am.

I guess some introductions are in order. Like I said, I’m Hero. I write, practice my cello, watch TV, practice my cello, read, practice my cello… And then I edit sometimes. But not before I practice my cello. (I practice my cello a lot. You should see my calluses. They’re impressive.) I also like to knit, play dress up (and call it cosplay, because I’m super cool), cook, act, draw, etc, etc.

I’m obsessed with Broadway musicals. Les Misérables, Wicked, Phantom of the Opera, Hairspray – you name it. Not to mention all those Disney movies… Needless to say, I tend to sing a lot of show tunes.

I am a Catholic, vegetarian, Slytherin, really nerdy fifteen-year old. If you remember any of that, remember the bit about me being a Slytherin. 😉 I’m kidding – out of that list, you should probably remember Catholic, because my faith is super important to me, and I’m probably going to be talking about it a fair amount on this blog. Especially since I’m going to a retreat on Saturday, and I’m being confirmed at the end of this month. (I’m so excited!)

But don’t worry, this isn’t going to be 100% about Church. The day after I go to my retreat, I’m going to see Wicked (again) (I’m such a jerk), so I’ll probably be freaking out about that for weeks and weeks.

Anyway. That’s probably good for right now. I’ll try and post over the weekend, but it’s going to be pretty jam-packed, so we’ll see what happens.

I won’t guarantee that my life is exciting, but it’s definitely a whirlwind. Hold on to your seats.