Can I have some?

welcome to my blog.

a place to post. a place to eat oreos. a place to vent. a place to heal.

i started this blog so i could use a different outlet besides munching on fattening oreos. as if that has done any good... *mind wanders to oreo package in the house...*

then i realized that oreos can be semi symbolic. if you are are that crazy about oreos that is. which... i am.

eating oreos is therapeutic for me. when i am struggling or when i need a pick me up. they have chocolate. and sugar. both of which help lift my mood. not to mention that i eat them soaked with milk, which is my miracle drink.

i post my posts to not only get stuff out. there may be people who read my blog who have been in the same kind of situations as i have. i hope reading them and knowing that others have gone through things like i have, will be to you what eating oreos does to me.

and yes. i didn't capitalize anything in here. i just felt like it. deal with it.

munch up.

Wednesday, February 29, 2012

Dr. Pocket

Yes, I'm introducing a new person on my blog. A mister Dr. Pocket. As in Corner Pocket. It is a great big band tune. Youtube it if you don't know it. It is awesome.

Dr. Pocket loves this song to the point of requesting (or maybe demanding) it played at his funeral. Hence his name. Dr. Pocket retired about 8 years ago. But for someone who is retired, he spends an awful amount of time still in contact with the music department. His instrument is the sax. He's still pretty amazing. 8 years ago was our first dance gig that we made in honor of Dr. Pocket (and also to help fund the jazz scholarship - also named after Dr. Pocket). It is now an annual tradition, and we play Corner Pocket every year, and Dr. Pocket plays with us. The Monday before the three night gig, Dr. Pocket came to play with us in rehearsal so we could play to his liking and to give him a chance to play through the changes (which he could probably do in his sleep). We played it with him. I believe that I played as well as I always do on that song. I love the song quite a lot as well. The lead trumpet part is really fun.

We also played with him a little song called Things Ain't What They Used To Be - by Woody Herman. Youtube that also. It is a way fun song. Particularly for the lead player. I don't want to get too far into detail with this. The highest note in the song is a double high G. Suffice it to say it is wicked high, and lots of trumpet players have a hard time reaching it. Dr. Pocket improvised on the song with us, hence we had to play it for him. For the lead trumpet the song starts off going straight to the double high G. I hit it with Dr. Pocket standing there watching. He made his way back to us to holler at me, "I think I heard the ghost of Maynard Ferguson back there."

If you don't know Maynard Ferguson... you should Youtube him too.

With how legendary Maynard Ferguson is for his range, I was pretty happy with his comment. The lick (group of measures) that has the double high G occurs three times in the song. The beginning, the middle, and the end. As far as I can remember, I got them all. Not only that, but on the last note, I jumped the double high E to the G a third above it. The look on Dr. Pocket's face... I'm not sure I could ever explain it well. It made me amazingly happy. I have always wanted to impress him.

The run up for the three nights of 1 hour and 20 minutes of playing, naturally the higher faster longer songs all end up at the end. The first night I didn't do so well, in general. It seemed like the band just in general didn't play well that night. The next two nights, however, were a totally different story. The longer you play the trumpet, the harder it is to play high. Two nights in a row. I played those double high G's on Woody Herman's song. I even was able to bump up the last note for the very last song (Flight to Nassau) up to the infamous double high G.

Needless to say, I made quite the impression on Dr. Pocket.

Dr. Pocket is the owner/creator/director of a community (I think...) big band. I suppose we'll call it Corner Band to keep up with our Corner Pocket theme. When I first heard of the Corner Band, I wished to be in it. But it turns out that Dr. Pocket only picks from people who are in the community - alumni or are professors. It seems he only picks students when there is a shortage, and only those students that impress him enough. I know a few students who were invited. My little brother being one.

Well the time has come. Whether they have a shortage, or whether they just need a substitute, I'm not certain. I still need to call Dr. Pocket to find out the details. What I do know is that he specifically asked for me. He said to おっさん (ossan - old man... I call one of the professors this because he knows Japanese), "I want that girl, what's her name?" おっさん answered by mentioning my little bro who graduated last May. "She's his sister."

I landed a gig. I am not being paid for this gig, but just the fact that I have been specifically invited by Dr. Pocket... it just makes me tremendously happy. I have music that I need to look at. And yes, I am aware of how much this adds to my load that is already way too heavy. But I can't refuse. I have been worrying as of late what I'll do with my trumpeting when I graduate. With this talent... I don't want it to got waste when I graduate. That would make me very sad. But there isn't a whole lot of options where I live as far as community bands are concerned. But now I have been invited to participate in Dr. Pocket's exclusive band. I can't tell you how excited I was when I heard the news.

And to add powdered sugar to the top of my good news, Dr. Lion (remember him? look back in previous posts - there is one actually called Dr. Lion) complimented me twice today. One was kind of a duet kind of compliment, as it was for another person just as much for me. In class today, Dr. Lion asked us firsts to play a line quieter. And we did. He complimented me/us for that. And then when I mentioned that I'm getting a jazz scholarship, he complimented me about that too. He said it was "well deserved."

Things like this make me smile.

Monday, February 27, 2012

When you sit in the driver's seat of a car, you have the power to kill someone. Don't use your power stupidly.

I'm vegging. I have so much to do, I am drowning, and don't even know what direction to start swimming to survive.

I knew my breaking point was coming up.

I need to read practically an entire book before tomorrow, I need to revise a paper (that will suck because of stupidity on my part - I left the book that I am writing the paper on in my Japanese classroom today, so I can't add quotes to improve it like I had been planning. hence - stupidity on my part, and it will be a stupid essay) that I need to turn in tomorrow. Another paper thing due Thursday. 日本語しゅくだい every day. Kanji quiz and chapter test coming up... A state's load of work to do on my 30 page essay (at least I have finally decided the three topics). And I'm writing on here.

I have been having a huge struggle focusing as of late. If ever I do so for a certain amount of time, great. But I usually end up with a massive headache that may or may not go away with Advil migraine. Saturday I made part of a midterm. 3 hours later, I had a massive headache. I took medicine. It didn't do a blasted thing. Of course by that time, the headache had had the chance to sit and stew and settle itself in my head. But I can't focus with such a painful ... pain radiating in my brain. So despite all that I had to do, I did something completely different. Pro Boxer didn't clean up the house as much as I was hoping for that day, so I start to dig in. Into my own personal mess. The bombed out world under my drawing table. I did it, it felt nice. It is good and organized now. There are still a few things that are sitting around waiting for me to put them away away, but at least I know what is there, and where exactly it is. I didn't get to my desk either... it is still quite the mess. But, hey, I accomplished something. At least I didn't sit around on my bed waiting for the headache to go away. And whether it was the cherry Pepsi (*gasp! yes, I took caffeine!) or just the act of distracting myself that made the headache go away where the Advil migraine wouldn't.

Pro Boxer introduced me to cherry Pepsi. I like it a lot. And not because it has the power to get rid of my headaches (which it does). It is very tasty. Now I don't know if it is better for me to have pills or caffeine to help my headaches go away, but for someone who was unable to find any over the counter medicine that would get rid of her headaches (except Advil migraine - which only works if I take it with a budding headache), this is a pretty awesome revelation. And yes, I understand the possibilities of getting addicted to it to the point that it would cause headaches. Right now, I am going off of the assumption that my headaches are stemmed mainly from stress, lack of sleep (*eyes clock...), and tight muscles. I'm slowly working on the muscles. I'm trying to stretch out my neck slightly every day. Hopefully that will help.

I do not plan to get addicted to caffeine... but I can't deny that I really really like cherry Pepsi.

Why the sudden ode to cherry Pepsi? No idea. I can't focus. I told you that at the beginning of my post.

I'm at the point. I can break right here, right now. I can not revise my paper and turn in a crappy version of it tomorrow. I can not try and read as much of that book as I can for my nonfiction class, and have nothing to say about the book, and be completely lost during the period (or not go at all... *gasp!). I think I'm realizing that whenever I find myself at points like this, I usually tend to give up and crash. I still don't know what I'll do. Maybe this post is what will help me decide. If I go to sleep right now, I can almost guarantee that I'll crash. Mornings and me don't get along. Yet I'm so tired... maybe it would be better for me to crash.

And still I wonder what The King would say to me if I did crash. Would he feel any sort of guilt or blame? Would I want him to? - No. I have always, and probably will always take the blame for anything and everything.

Whether I sink or swim depends on my ability to stay awake. Or wake up early... but usually that path tends to crash - as I said... mornings and me don't get along. Whatever happens will happen, I suppose. But sometimes I wonder if I'm some sort of masochist, forgetting things and procrastinating for the purpose of abusing myself. The possibility is there... the possible motives are there. Maybe I want to prove to the world that I'm not really as great or as amazing as they seem to think I am, so I force myself to crash. Who knows? I doubt I ever will.

But for now, I'll go off to the land of homework and see what becomes of it.

Monday, February 13, 2012

I think I'm programmed or wired to be depressed.

I had an interesting thought today. I'm not sure I can explain it well.

Imagine a group of friends. Just about five or so. Expand them to about the size of a big band. Around 20 people. Let's increase even more... say about a hundred people. Maybe envision a football team, or a small marching band. Increase that marching band to about 200 people. They can do pretty detailed drills on the field now. Now take two of them... three of them... four of them. Ten of them. Grouped together in your mind in organized circles. You can't really see the individuals anymore, just a mass of heads in each group of 200. Now we have 2,000 people swimming around in our minds. Add on more and more. How many people can you visualize? Do you have any notion of how many people there are living in America? 1 mil is just a number. Get a large body of people together in your mind, and I ask you... can you visualize 1 million people? How much space would they take up?

I have often wondered when the world will end. Does it end when the last soul has been born into the world, or does it end whenever God chooses and we can have children during Christ's reign in the millennium? Whatever the case, my mind expanded today. I visualized hundreds of millions of souls still waiting to be born, and God near them, as if talking to them and explaining to them their task on the earth. My mind expanded even more and wondered how much bigger the group would have been when God presented his plan of the creation of this earth. I am probably not doing any of this justice, it was certainly an amazing experience that I probably can never explain well.

This earth had a beginning. By definition, it must have an end. "Forever," by definition is never-ending. So... If life after death is never-ending, logically, that means there must not have ever been a beginning.

So I began asking myself... What is the purpose of this life? "It's a test." "We are here to learn." "We are here to experience this life so we can know how to govern worlds that we possibly will be able to make." I've heard most (if not all) of the answers my church can give me. It seems my only choices are life in heaven with God, or burning in hell. But what is the point? What am I here for? How can I explain this...? I can't even say the question. I don't know if there are words to say the question.

There is no cease to exist option. Somewhere in that great beyond there has to be nothingness. But all of my above statements seem to contradict that. If my purpose here on life is to learn, and others out there in other worlds are there in their world to learn... won't we run out of space? There has to be something. There can't only be two options. Whether I will be building my own worlds or burning in hell for the rest of my existence (which gospel says will last forever), won't whatever it is become boring and "everyday?" Can one burn long enough for the flames to become a tickle or a caress? Another world here, another world there. To me, right now, forever anything is a depressing thought. Can't I just eventually... cease to exist?

When other people think about how big this world is (and yet how small), and how many people there on it now, and how many people that have lived on it before, and how many still are waiting to come, they start to feel grateful that God even listens to them and knows them by name, despite how many other people there are that he also knows and listens to. Me? I get depressed. It is nearly instantaneous. Why would He care about me? Why would He know me? Little ol' beat up me. In my mind, He has no obligation to care for me, not when so much has thrown me down and beat me to rubble.

Maybe I'm just wired to be depressed.

Thursday, February 9, 2012

Coming changes

I am writing this post to inform all my wonderful readers that I will be changing the content of this blog. I'm not deleting anything, goodness, this is almost journal for me. From here on out, I shall only talk of things not relating to my abusive past. If you are reading this blog only to learn from my experiences regarding that, I'm sorry. I have made a new blog (completely anonymous from this blog) exclusively for my healing process, and I'm debating giving you the link, because my original purpose for that blog was to give me a place to vent my anger, and bitterness, and whatever else I needed to get out - completely anonymous. And to allow myself to get as depressed I need to without feeling like I am worrying my family. If you don't know me, and was reading this blog solely with the intention of learning from that part of my life, maybe we can work something out, but I can't know that unless you comment on this post. While writing, and remembering why I made my new blog, I decided that for sure I won't be posting the link publicly. But if you wish to read that blog, you can put your e-mail address on my comments. I won't publish your comment on my blog, but I will e-mail you (and only use your e-mail for that one e-mail) the link.

That's the best I can do for you. If you are family, and truly wish to see of the ugliness within me (it will not be a fun ride) then I suppose I don't mind sharing it with you as well. But I won't be holding myself back on there. I won't think of you any less if you don't want to see it. Heck, I don't want to. But if you truly want to know, I won't keep that from you.

But you have been warned.

On a happier note, I had a pretty good day today, all things considered. Somehow (amazingly) I was able to finish all my homework and reading I needed to. I read Merry Wives of Windsor in less than 12 hours last night. I finished my 日本語 homework... though I'm not sure the sentences I made were actual sentences... it is amazing at how learning a new language can make me feel completely incompetent at being able to express my thoughts.

Yes, it has been a better day. We'll see how everything continues to play out. I may continue to post things about how I am feeling, but I won't delve deep into anything regarding the previous subject. And with that said, I shall now push the orange button that says "Publish Post."

Tuesday, February 7, 2012

Bloody nose day

I didn't post this on my groundhog post, but groundhog day this year has been officially deemed by me as the bloody nose day. In my first class, one person left the room plugging her nose. I can only assume that she had a bloody nose. I don't personally get bloody noses very often, but yes, even me, in my fourth class started to get the bloody runs dripping through my nose. When I was writing a long essay question about the reading (which the teacher does sometimes instead of quizzes... I'll say here I like the long essay questions a lot better than quizzes, because I may have not caught on to what she put on the quiz). Naturally it would happen then. I'm sure the teacher would have allowed me to leave then and take care of it and write the quiz thing after, but I didn't want to worry about that. So what did I do? I grabbed my nose and tried with one hand to open the newly bought (good timing that...) package of tissues, which I have since learned is impossible. The person next to me helped me open it and get a tissue out. I held it to my nose (by this time the teacher had noticed my distress, and seemed about to ask me if I needed to take care of it) and I continued writing. It wasn't particularly pleasant, but ah well. I finished everything I had to say and left to take care of business. I talked about the experience with my classmates as we waited for our next class. I found it highly ironic that I should have a bloody nose on the same day that someone else in my class left class for it. Even more ironic? Someone in that next class also had a bloody nose. I come home and tell Pro Boxer, and what else?? He had a bloody nose as well.

It was a bloody nose day.

On to other things.

I don't know what to talk about. I have so many things, I hesitate spending the time updating you all, you all. Yet here I am. Maybe I'm just prolonging having to write a quiz that I have no idea how to write. There is a midterm that I'll have to start putting together... lots more meetings with the students still (tomorrow will be the last big day, but there are a few still after that), other things to plan for, lots of other things to plan for... Japanese club, Jazz Band stuff... Essay to write (I just turned one in today...), stuff. Just lots of.... stuff.

As for my emotional and spiritual health... there is lots of stuff to do with that as well. My ... employer? manager? whatever he is, the teacher that I'm working for (who shall be known on here as The King) seems determined to help me feel better about myself or maybe he just wants to fix things - he's a guy, you know? I'm not sure how much I have talked about The King on here, but let me give you a run down. He was my teacher for a class last year. No idea how much of an impression I made on him, but he made a pretty big (and very good) impression on me. The class was Beginning Creative Nonfiction. I was merely taking it to graduate. I knew I wanted to focus more on Fiction rather than... really anything else. But The King is such a good teacher, that he can make me feel like I can do what I once thought impossible. It is all because of him that I am now taking the Adv. Creative Nonfiction. He got me to love it. There is something somewhat liberating about writing about my own life. Which is maybe why I continue to post on here, I suppose. Maybe I always loved it, but he got me to realize that. I call him The King (only on here) mainly just as an inside joke that only I get. Well, he would too if he ever read my blog, which I doubt.

Whatever the case, I must have made some sort of positive impression on him, because when it came to choosing a TA for his class this semester, he came to me. He called me up telling me that he needed to give the people a name that day. Which leads me to believe (I have never asked him) that he didn't really know that he had to pick someone and he had to make a snap decision. Whether or not that is true I have asked him once why he picked me. I hadn't applied, in fact, I had to go through the application process after I had already landed the job. His reply? I was on his short list of people that would work well. Smart, well-spoken, reliable, motivated. But "for reasons [he didn't] quite understand, [I] seemed like the right choice." And yes, that is a direct quote, because he sent this to me via txt, and I have locked it so I won't ever lose it. I'm LDS, "Mormon," whatever you want to say. I can read between the lines and see the possible revelation lying there. I can't quite remember his wording on this, but he has told me something to the effect that he wishes to cure me of my hatred for myself and to get me to see the good in me, I guess - he's a guy - he sees something needing fixing - he must fix. He has read some of my poems, he has read a lot of my work for the class I had with him last year. He is a great reader and can see the bitterness behind my words. I have had txt discussions with him about religion, faith, trials... and for some blasted reason, I can listen to him. He isn't telling me anything any different than what my friends and family would tell me to get me to gain my faith back. He tells me that it is God blessing me. Whether or not that is true... somehow his words are able to strike a chord with me. I'm still bitter. I'm still angry. I laughed at him when he told me that he wanted to help release me from the lack of faith in myself.

I told The King today that I'm just bombed. I'm so loaded down with so many things that I need to do (and really should start working on them rather than writing here), and that I blame him for it. I truly feel like I'm going to break, and break soon. He tried to help me feel better by saying that I'm doing an amazing job. Because of the person that he is, I know he was being sincere. "Yes," was my reply, "but there is only so long that I can continue to be great in everything that I am doing before I break." (this statement I'm just now beginning to realize, The King might have been pleased with his work... normally I would have scoffed at his compliment, but here I accepted it and said that I was great in other aspects as well...)

"And think of how great it will be if you come out of this without breaking."

Yeah, that was his ever optimistic reply. I believe him. I can't not believe him. I accepted this job because I believed him. But at the same time, I can't not think of the negative in that. And think of how much more depressed I'll be if I do break. Cause I see it happening in the near future. Sure when things calm down a bit (after this week -meeting with the students about their first essay- is over) maybe I won't break then. But test making, quiz making, 30 page essay writing (for the Adv. Nonfiction class - I blame The King for that as well), the concerts, the reading Shakespeare plays, more essay writing.... I truly believe that one of these days this semester I am going to break.

I wonder what The King will have to say when that time comes.

Thursday, February 2, 2012

Ground Hog's day - did you have yours?

Here are the pics:

Bug showing his groundhog off (I think the shadow is my hand taking the pic...):

Silly face Bug:

Goof Ball intimidating his bro:

I don't particularly want to talk about how I am doing. I'm not well, just accept that. Don't be fooled by the smile above. I'm a pretty good actor, all things considered. Especially when there is a camera at my face. I'm totally swamped with work, school work, house work, work work... and any other sort of work that you could think up. I think I finally have found my limit. I may have over booked myself this semester. But it has already been a month, and I'm still alive. I guess that is a good sign. My faith? Who knows where that went. But that is all I will say. If you really want to know, call me. I won't promise that it will be a cheerful conversation, nor will I promise that I will believe anything you say to lift me out of the gutter. I'm in good company, and maybe eventually I'll get my faith back. The teacher I'm working for actually has the innate ability (or inspiration from God whatever you wish to say/think) to say things in such a way to make me think that maybe... it might be possible to believe again. We talk about lots more things than just the class stuff. Maybe one day I'll post such thoughts on here. But not now. I have dallied long enough and I am thinking that after all that, my brain has finally vegged enough to get to working again. I tried to apply myself to homework or whatever, but for whatever reason (probably just because I'm overworked and my body was rebelling) my mind just couldn't focus on anything longer than a minute. But I have vegged enough I think and now I can work on homework. A paper is due next Tuesday. 日本語 test Monday. A quiz to make for Tuesday or Thursday, lots and lots of reading... and yeah. Time to get on it.

Hope you enjoyed your groundhog today!