Avoiding my TOK homework by ranting

Here is something I do not like: Theory of Knowledge. It kills me that Caroline only had to take this stupid class for one semester while I was saddled with two years of it. It is the biggest waste of time since internet Solitaire was invented.
Here is why I do not like TOK: I do not care about any of the subjects up for discussion. Who cares about what makes a branch of science a science, or the qualifying factors of art, or how we can determine truth? The things we discuss in TOK sound like something a sleazy dude would say to someone in a singles bar. "Baby, how do we know we're alive? How do we know we exist? We have to seize opportunities and live our lives. Are we people if we just drift around in space?" Of course, that may just be our teacher's disturbing habit of full disclosure that lends such an air to the course, but even last year with our old teacher, it was still a headache.
Life is full of mysteries, sure, but isn't it more interesting if you just leave them as they are? Why would anyone want to vivisect the great mysteries of life and pin the components on the wall, neatly mounted and labeled? Sure, mankind has always tried to solve life's great mysteries, but there must be a more practical way to do so than sitting around some classroom with unflattering fluorescent light, arguing about the ethical implications of shopping at Hollister.
If we're going to debate about questions we could never possibly answer, I propose we do so in cafes, like Jean-Paul Sartre and his fellow existentialists. At least that way, we could get a decent cup of coffee. Or just leave when the conversation gets too dry.

Checking in

I feel like I should post something, but I have nothing to say! Things in my life are going so well, I should start buying lottery tickets.

As Kansas in August

Things came together so well in my life yesterday. It was like the end of a romantic comedy, when everything happens all at once, in beautiful timing, and builds up to a spectacular end, fade to credits.
The best part is, it's only just begun.

The cast list finally came out yesterday, and I got the lead!!! I am Nellie Forbush, Navy Ensign! Wooooo! Woot woot woot!
I didn't really celebrate yesterday, because some of my friends were really sad, and other events kind of eclipsed the casting, but I got it! Yesyesyesyesyes!!!
Then I got stuck in an elevator for forty minutes!

Chorale went to Guildcare yesterday, and after we sang, four people went in the car and the rest of us started to walk back to school. Seventeen people and an aide piled on to the elevator. We were squashed like sardines, and someone (i know who, but I'm not telling) said, "Hey, how funny would it be if we all jumped?"
The aide screamed, "NO!" but just to mess with her, someone else started counting.
"One... two..."
Somebody jumped and we all stumbled. The elevator stopped.
We began emergency procedures: calling the school, calling a mechanic, and so on. We all agreed that there was no point accusing people, but the aide was just furious. She kept threatening that this was the last work she was ever going to do, that she would write us all up, and on and on and on. She was pretty mad, but the rest of us were doubled over laughing for the whole time. With the exception of the bottom left-hand corner, everyone was still in high spirits, and we joked around and laughed for forty minutes. As the temperature rose and the levels of oxygen steadily went down, everything got much funnier, until even the aide started laughing.
I don't think any of us will get in trouble. It was pretty hilarious.

Kline

One of my favorite episodes of This American Life is the one about heartbreak, where Starlee Kline talks about writing her boyfriend a torch song after her broke up with her. What she says is true, torch songs really are the ultimate expression of emotion.
It's a funny thing, I used to try to deny all of my emotions. I wanted to be invulnerable. Lately, though, that's been changing. I don't want that anymore.
I've had Frank Sinatra's "You Make Me Feel So Young" running through my head for the past half-week. Forget being invulnerable, I'm getting mushier every day.

Top 5 Favorite Torch Songs:

1. "Crazy He Calls Me," Billie Holliday
2. "You Don't Have To Say You Love Me," Dusty Springfield
3. "Fools Rush In," She & Him
4. "I'll Be Seeing You," Michael Finestein
5. "Dream A Little Dream," The Beautiful South
   

More Little Women

Yesterday I went a-wassailing with some of the fabulous and talented Centaur High Players to raise money for South Pacific. I'd never gone caroling in that official capacity before, and I was surprised at the way we did it. I assumed we would be busking- singing on street corners and the like- but actually we went door to door, along one of the upper middle or lower upper class neighborhoods. M picked mostly songs about how awesome Christmas is, what with snowmen and snow, and how it's the most wonderful time of the year, but the places that were the most generous were the places where we sang "Silent Night." People love themselves some son of God around here. Next round, we're singing more religious carols, since people seemed to like those better. I sang "The Friendly Beasts" at one house (after we crashed and burned on "O Holy Night," we felt like they deserved an extra carol- that house actually got three and a half) and it was really nice. I wish everyone knew it, because it's my very favorite carol and it's very beautiful.

You're gonna make me lonesome when you go

I had not considered this before right now, but after reading Caroline's blog, I realized: if Caroline goes to the Peace Corps and Emily follows through with this whole "sharing Christmas with her husband's family" (holy shit, she's going to have a husband), I will be the only one of my family's younger generation at Christmas. I am not okay with this plan. Christmas needs children first and foremost, but as my little cousin is now fifteen (as of today- happy birthday, Andrew!), we have to make do with everyone coalescing and swapping pierogies all together. Sigh.
But I want to end this post on a happy note, so here it is: I got my senior hoodie today, and the only words to describe it are warm and fuzzy. I love it. Plus, it has a great design by a totally awesome girl I know.

Counter-claims

I'm not sure where I got this idea from, but for a very long time, I thought about life in terms of either/or. Specifically, you can be smart or good, you can be nice or mean, you can be smart or stupid, you can be a good student or have a social life, et cetera. The first theory was disproved in sophmore year, when I began getting to know people like J and A, who are smart and good (I can assure you that my mind was blown). I guess I was wrong the whole time?

My Favorite Things

Today in English class, we were discussing a lecture that we had all attended earlier that same day. The lecture was on "murderabilia" and the popularity of violence in American culture. Somehow, we got on the subject of tragedies, and why everybody appreciates sad movies and books so much. My teacher suggested that it's because our lives are filled with tragedy, and reading about sadness helps us cope. I raised my hand.

"But if that's really true, why don't we read more happy novels?" I asked.

The girl who contradicts everything I say spoke up immediately. "There aren't any books like that!" she said, in the tone of "let's see you defeat that!"

"Of course there are!" I exclaimed. "One of my favorite authors, Laurie Colwin wrote exclusively- even in her cookbooks- about finding happiness and creating a pleasant life amidst chaos. Why isn't that a more popular genre?"

Another girl suggested, "When people read about happiness, it makes them feel dissatisfied. They wonder why their lives aren't like that, and that makes them depressed."

GWCEIS added, "Happy endings are unrealistic, too."

But you know what? That's stupid! I hate sad stories, and for that matter, I think it's an act of masochism to read too many of them. So allow me to make a suggestion, dear readers.

Laurie Colwin wrote several lovely books before her untimely death (if you really like tragedy, think about that while you read them), and all of the novels have dynamic and interesting female protagonists. My personal favorite is Happy All The Time, which is a book written about four people who are happy all the time. The back of the book says: "This delightful comedy of manners and morals is about romantic friendship, romantic marriage, and romantic love- about four people who are goodhearted and sane, lucky and gifted, and who find one another." I read it for the first time when my history class was studying Auschwitz, for balance. You can't read Happy All The Time and walk away feeling depressed, or even slightly miserable.

Also entertaining are Laurie Colwin's cookbooks, Home Cooking and More Home Cooking. The only problem with them is that the recipes aren't really very instructive; if you try cooing them, you will find several gaping holes in the procedure. Basically, they read as stories about food: Laurie Colwin's worst dinner parties (both attended and given), cooking at a shelter for battered women, and when it is appropriate to serve a Jewish Friday night dinner. (Answer: after a hard, arduous week, and only about once every three months.) They also contain amusing tips concerning kitchenware and how to properly serve tea. (Laurie Colwin says that tea is the best meal for a party, because that way your guests won't stay too late and you won't walk away from the meal feeling weighted down.)

In short, don't get sad. Get Laurie Colwin! You'll save hundreds of dollars on Kleenex (or laundry, if you are like Emily or me and use handkerchiefs instead).

Let's get literary

Rise from bed.................................................6.00.................A.M.
Dumbell exercise and wall-scaling.....................6.15 - 6.30.........."
Study electricity, etc.......................................7.15 - 8.15.........."
Work............................................................8.30 - 4.30........ P.M.
Baseball and sports........................................4.30 - 5.00.........."
Practice elocution, poise and how to attain it.....5.00 - 6.00.........."
Study needed inventions.................................7.00 - 9.00.........."

No wasting time at Shafters or [a name, indecipherable].
No more smoking or chewing.
Bath every other day.
Read one improving book or magazine per week.
Save $5.00 [crossed out] $3.00 per week.
Be better to parents.

I've always been a big fan of this schedule. It pleases me that Gatsby was so organized. He had a plan for his success. He made himself, life didn't just give him things. Pragmatism is a quality I admire. I bring this up because I recently made the discovery that I made a Gatsbyesque plan for myself way back in freshman year, before I had even read the book.

Gatsby's goal: to woo and wed the lovely and horrible Miss Daisy. My goal: to get the lead in my senior year musical. I remember watching chorale at the spring concert that year and thinking, Step one.

I would join chorale, then work my way up to chamber, do every musical, take voice lessons, and do whatever it would take to reach my goal. When our new music teacher came in and held auditions for solos, I figured, so much the better. I auditioned for everything and- I'll be honest- became a kissass on a grand scale. In two day's time, we'll see if my grand plan worked. If it hasn't, you can bet I'm going to be angry, but I hope I'll be able to admit defeat more gracefully than my Jazz Age counterpart.

I still have things to say!

I just didn't feel like making that last post even longer. I mean, damn. Who is this chick that just blathers on and on about dance and books and... oh, wait...

Awesome Musicals I Want To See

1. Assassins
2. Les Mis
3. Chicago
4. Billy Elliot
5. Thoroughly Modern Millie
6. Gypsy
7. Mary Poppins, The New Musical (which was here a couple of weeks ago, and I should have gone.)
8. Jekyll and Hyde
9. Into The Woods
10. Phantom of the Opera

Many of these musicals are movies, and I have seen the movies, but that's not really good enough for me. I also want to see Assassins like whoa. Caroline saw it at Geneseo, and she loved it, and Sarah Vowell talks about it in Assassination Vacation. It sounds so completely brilliant! I don't like singing Sondheim myself, because he's an asshole who thought, "Maybe I'll make this song as hard as I possibly can! I mean, I am ludicrously talented, so why shouldn't I make five-minute songs composed of the same repeating phrase and wildly different accompaniment?"But listening to Sondheim- that I will do willingly. Plus, a musical about psychopaths. That just couldn't miss!

And now for something completely different.

I want to go to college. I know it's way difficult and probably not nearly as wonderful as I've made it out to be in my head, but I don't care. I want to learn interesting things, I want to go outside of my dorm and be surrounded by people that I don't know, I want to attend classes with people that weren't in my nursery school, I want to eat meat. (If you don't know me very well, that last thing may seem irrelevant, but it's not.) Most people probably don't realize how difficult it is to have to live your entire young life with the exact same people, day in, day out. It's very difficult. I want to make new friends who don't know what I looked like when I was in first grade, I want to hole up in the library for days at a time, studying for finals or doing research.

Listen, Santa. I only want one thing for Christmas, and it's very simple. Very light. I want six acceptance letters. Can you be a darling and do that for me?

Distractions with distractions

I promised myself that I would not obsess about the cast list for South Pacific, even though I squeaked on the C in my audition, but I don't have much to do right now, and am dangerously close to breaking that promise. So! I'm going to write about musicals so I won't think about musicals!

It astounds me that so many of my friends (especially the music nerds) don't like musicals at all. Clearly, they're all brain damaged. I can't comprehend why people would not see the appeal of dozens of people, randomly bursting into song and dance at the same time, all to carry a plot forward and prove some kind of big idea, like how Kansas City's gone about as fur as they could go, or how money makes the world go round, or how besides which, you see, I have confidence in me. How is that not awesome? Answer: It is awesome, and anyone who says otherwise is wrong.

Yesterday, the guy who videotaped the musical revue gave us the DVDs, and I watched mine today. It's deeply irritating how he taped "One Short Day" in such a fashion that the choreography cannot be seen (it's all too close. That number was made to give a splendid overall picture, goddammit, and now Bryn Mawr won't notice it and they won't let me in), but that aside, it's interesting to note the range of talent that we have at Centaur High. The boys are just stunning, and it's really delightful to hear them in "Nothing Like a Dame"; they'll do a terrific job in South Pacific. The girls are all marvelous, too, but there are more stylistic differences with people's natural singing voices. At least, I noticed them more. E sounds pretty because she has such a clear tone, and her voice is sweet, but not sickly so. Just the right amount of sweetness. O has a deep, mellow voice, and A has a bright kind of voice (when she isn't pushing too hard). K's is very distinctive, and her mike was very high during the entire show, so it seems like she was the only one singing sometimes. Listening to yourself singing is weird, though. I like my voice, for the most part, but I think it's too operatic. I always sing from vowel to vowel.

While I was working on the revue, I went on a Fosse binge. I watched Chicago and Cabaret and All That Jazz, which was disappointing in that it had way too many disturbing details about Fosse's life about which I would have been much happier not knowing and not enough dancing. I didn't need to see a man getting heart surgery and sleeping with anything that moved. I wanted to see breathtaking choreography! But I loved Cabaret. I mean, it was terribly creepy and depressing, of course, but the editing was great and the dancing was amazing. The lyrics were running through my head for weeks afterwards, and I had choreographic visions of Liza Minelli- very scary. (I don't care how well she can sell a song, she looks like some kind of alien creature. Especially with that haircut.) I was still in my Cabaret daze when my math teacher told us to put a clever title on our probability papers, so my "clever title" was : All The Odds Are In Your Favor: Winning Jeopardy the "Cabaret" Way. My poor, poor, math teacher: that title baffled him. There was nothing in my paper that actually was related to Cabaret, naturally: to win Jeopardy the Cabaret way, I guess you'd have to sleep with the person who wrote the questions, or maybe get in a fight with some Nazis and end up in the hospital... yeah, I got nothing. But my teacher went on Wikipedia and looked up the musical, and finally just wrote on my paper, "What does this mean? Is there a joke I'm not getting?" He's a nice guy, just not a musical theater type, I suppose.

I think I need a couple years of jazz study before I take on any more musical theater choreography. I sort of wanted to become Michael Bennett, with more estrogen, but I am almost exclusively trained in ballet. Watching the revue, it's not really obvious that I mostly do one style- I didn't try to make J and C do the Rose Adage during Sixteen Going On Seventeen or anything like that- but a more diverse education will definitely do a lot for my technique. The only time a solid knowledge of ballet is handy when one is doing musical theater is during the dream sequence in Oklahoma. And everybody hates that part.

A rich inner life

I am not as well read as my sisters (especially Caroline) because I like rereading books too much. I was still reading my favorite children's books (not picture books, but books you'd give to a third-grader, like Trumpet of the Swan) well into middle school, and my sisters would occasionally sit me down and force-feed me new books. In this way, I read A Wrinkle In Time and Catcher In The Rye.

Here's why I like rereading books so much. (We're about to get a little self-pitying here, folks.) When I was little, people teased me a lot and I didn't have many good friends, so, as the cliche goes, books became my friends, and I read the same ones according to my mood. I've never really outgrown this practice, although now my repertoire of books is somewhat more mature. (But only somewhat.) I'd like to share with you, dear readers, my list of books and the moods to which they correspond. There will not be a test.

When I need to live vicariously through someone: The Great Gatsby, F. Scott Fitzgerald

When I'm missing Emily: A Big Storm Knocked It Over, Laurie Colwin

When I'm missing Caroline: Franny and Zooey, J. D. Salinger

When I'm missing both of my sisters: I Capture The Castle, Dodie Smith

When my faith in humanity needs restoring: Happy All The Time, Laurie Colwin

When I'm feeling pretentious: Le Petit Prince, Antoine de Saint-Exupery (yes, in French)

When I'm not appreciating my sinless existence: Portrait of Dorian Gray, Oscar Wilde

When a romantic entanglement goes south: The Glass Menagerie, Tennessee Williams

When it feels like entropy is closing in: Cold Comfort Farm, Stella Gibbons

There are a lot more, of course, but those are the greatest hits.

Musical conflictions

Today was the M&T Bank Chorale concert, and it was wonderful (even though I couldn't sing my solo because I am still a little sick). We sang and sang (occasionally songs that have nothing whatsoever to do with the holiday season, but whatevs) and then ate cookies and hung out, and it was very pleasant. Mrs. N's rigorous schedules sort of prevent Chorale from mingling at times, because nobody is very talkative at 7:35 a.m., and as rehearsal wears on, if you talk to someone for a second, you get snarled at.
But I digress!
It was really nice to get to talk to people before the concert, too- we went in cars, rather than on the train or a bus, so we arrived in shifts. I was in Shift 1, so I got to talk to a lot of the people that I don't usually get a chance to chat with. The members of Chorale are really nice people- I wish I was better friends with all of them, and I wish I had gotten to know them better last year. So, I was talking with J, M and S, and they were all talking about Glee, and how awesome it is, and recapping bits from the previous episode.
Here's the thing. I feel funny about liking Glee. I do like it- yeah, yeah, yeah, it's autotuned, it's cheesy, it jumped the shark with the second season- whatever. I like it. But I know A and J (different J- this initial system is going to get confusing) really hate it, and I like A and J, so when the subject of Glee comes up and they're around, I try to just not say anything. Frankly, I don't have the energy to defend my television show preferences, and I think it's a little silly that they would put me in a position where I feel I have to do so.
I do this all the time- when people present arguments that I disagree with, often I'll just smile and change the subject, usually when I'm tired. (Unless their arguments are offensive or so drastically incorrect that I feel obligated to correct them.) My pen pal, C, says he does the same thing, which is reassuring, but I still don't know why this happens.

Recipe for A Cure

Approximately two gallons of water

Half a bag of cough drops

An abundant supply of tissues

Two buckets of tea (Tazo "Refresh")

A large bowl of old-fashioned fish chowder

Ibuprofen

Vitamins

Louisa May Alcott's Little Women

Add all ingredients one by one, slowly. Blend carefully. Wrap in fuzzy slippers and a robe. Place under several blankets for about five hours. Keep warm overnight.

Who gets sick after two snowdays in a row? I blame the Towne Players.

Thank you, S.Blo

Snow day, the day before the big Statistics test! I was faced with several options:

1. Study.
2. Sleep for hours and hours, lie around all day, and be totally unproductive.
3. Have fun.

Now, option 1 is very responsible, but I'm responsible every day. Get up, get to class on time, eat a nutritious, balanced lunch, study, dance, smile, go to bed at 10:30 on the nose every night. It gets old.

So before I even opened my eyes, I said, "Fuck you, responsibility! I'm going to do my own thing today!" (I didn't really say that out loud of course. That's too weird, even for me.)

I got to have a delicious breakfast with dairy products in it, because no school meant no chorale, a welcome change. After that, I made some of the Christmas presents I'll be mailing out to people. I would describe them, but that would ruin the surprise, now, wouldn't it? Let's just say that they are fantastic and they took a really, really long time to make (especially S's present), so I hope the unpleasant Christmas tradition mentioned in my last post doesn't happen again this year.

As rebellion goes, this is pretty lame. Still, I enjoyed it, and rebelling wasn't really the point. The point was to enjoy myself, which I did.

I also watched this:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LtgYDpvRCMI

Vermont must be beautiful this time of year!

It's December first and it snowed today, so I'm going to write about Christmas. Two posts in two days. This may never happen again.

Five Good Christmas Traditions:

1. Caroling at M&T Bank
2. Cajun Christmas music
3. Rereading Little Women
4. Watching Rudolf the Red-Nosed Reindeer with my parents and ridiculing it shamelessly
5. Watching A Muppet Christmas Carol with the young generation of my extended family, singing along with every song, and doing the hilariously awkward Scrooge dance during "It Feels Like Christmas."

Nothing, and I mean nothing, says Christmas like the Muppets. There's another good Muppet Christmas movie that was made for TV but is on YouTube, called A Muppet Family Christmas. It has Muppets, the Sesame Street puppets, and Fraggles (although I have to say, Fraggles leave me cold). It also has Christmas merriment, in abundance.

Not-So-Good Christmas Traditions

1. Inevitable family drama
2. The Towne Players Christmas Show (I don't care if this comes up when people Google it. People should know. It's the worst thing about this time of year.)
3. When people completely disregard my homemade Christmas presents (which happens every year, and it makes me a little sad. What was the point of making all my friends hats last year? C actually wore an old sock on her head for a while, while in the process of knitting herself a hat. Ouch.)

But I don't want to end this post on a resentful note, so here's another list for your enjoyment:

Interesting Things You May Not Know About Rudolf (The Movie):

1. The puppets used to make the film are still in existence. I believe one of them is currently in Indiana.
2. The doll on the Island of Misfit Toys always seemed so normal, like she didn't belong there, right? That's what you think! According to the writers, she suffered from "emotional issues." Those issues probably weren't helped any when people chucked her onto some deserted island and called her a misfit. Just a hunch. I hope whoever ended up with that doll on Christmas morning could afford the massive therapy bills she would surely incur.
3. The Santa Claus in that movie is a TOTAL JACKASS. Oops, you already knew that one.