I found another thing to put on my to-do list. Tonight was my sister's last choir concert at her high school because she's graduating in a couple weeks. The theme was centered around one of their songs titled, "How Can We Keep from Singing?" Essays were read from the seniors in choir that emphasized why they chose to sing even when trampled by finals and after-school groups and sports. Each essay brought a new insight on why singing is so important to them. For example: Singing is the only pure thing in an evil world, singing is a way to leave your troubles at the door, it's an escape, it's a drug, it's harmony with your friends, it's fun, it's a message even when the music is in another language...and even when there are no words at all!
Lately, I've been content with just singing in my car, belting out ballads like "Eclipse of the Heart" sung by Bonnie Tyler. My favorite is sining "Can't Take My Eyes Off of You" by Frankie Valli with the windows rolled down and watching the old people start singing when I pull up next to them. Because singing is ageless. It's in the soul. Which is why I thought I would bring it up in my Spiritual Strudel. It's nom nom. Even the most awfulest of singers can't help but belt out their favorite songs when they're alone. It's an urge. An impulse. It's also a cure. Singing karaoke in a bar, singing while fist pumping with your girls at the club, singing in the shower, singing along at concerts, singing the national anthem at a baseball game, singing your audition for American Idol, singing in the opera, in a musical, in the streets...it's all the same.
Singing is global. It breaks open the language barrier. Everyone can understand the emotions of a song even if they can't understand the words. In high school choir, Mrs. Freeman would play us a new song in Latin or Italian or French and have us make skits about it while she played it in the room. She never told us what it was about. Somehow, even when the situations were wrong (mostly because they became outlandish), we always understood the emotion and were always right.
People scoff at singers and judge them worse than Simon Cowell. Good! Criticize! How else will pieces of art be made or new genres created? It takes criticism to grow stronger. However, how could anyone truly hate anything that comes from the heart? I love singing to elderly men and women at the nursing home before Christmas. We gather all around them and sing to them their beloved carols and they offer suggestions. Hunched over wrinkle pots come shuffling from the very darkest corners, smelling of stale urine, to hear the music. Their smiles are what keep us singing and not want to leave. My favorite part is their voices. It's not like old people have smooth, toned voices or anything. They suck, to be quite frank. But I'll tell you, I've never heard a more beautiful sound because every word means something to them. Memories of Christmas pour out of them at the sound and you can see them as young children, glitter and shit coming out of their eyes just as if they've just sat on Santa's lap.
It looks like I'll have to get back into choir. It'll take a while to find one that I'm comfortable with and that I think does a decent job. Freeman has made me a choir snob. Sometimes I can't handle choir members and divas so maybe something like an a capella group would be best for me. Something where we're all on equal ground because my voice is a blender anyway. We'll see where this goes, but one thing's for sure: I cannot keep from singing.
Monday, May 23, 2011
Thursday, May 19, 2011
Santa vs. Heidi Montag
Santa Claus isn't real, right? That's what we've been told ever since we found out who really puts the presents under our Christmas trees. He's this made-up character who has one job one day a year--put toys underneath little children's trees in the middle of the night and eat all of their sugar cookies in return. My argument is that Santa is more real than someone like Heidi Montag who has 5% of her real face still attached to her head.
What has Heidi ever done for humanity? She's taught girls to not be satisfied with their bodies, to turn to surgery to be more popular, and that dating a douche who treats you and the rest of the world poorly is an okay way to live. At least Dolly Parton, the old Barbie Doll, has set up her Imagination Library to help early childhood learning. She has openly admitted to hating what she's had done through plastic surgery. No, what I'm talking about is the glorification of people who are so fake and plastic. It's disgusting.
Santa instills excitement and hope in children's hearts, and keeps their imaginations alive with wonder. He makes them believe in magic, something that Scrooges out there could really take a lot away from. He teaches the art of giving and receiving, of sharing, of family, and of traditions. To me, that's more real than anything that Heidi has ever said or done.
What has Heidi ever done for humanity? She's taught girls to not be satisfied with their bodies, to turn to surgery to be more popular, and that dating a douche who treats you and the rest of the world poorly is an okay way to live. At least Dolly Parton, the old Barbie Doll, has set up her Imagination Library to help early childhood learning. She has openly admitted to hating what she's had done through plastic surgery. No, what I'm talking about is the glorification of people who are so fake and plastic. It's disgusting.
Santa instills excitement and hope in children's hearts, and keeps their imaginations alive with wonder. He makes them believe in magic, something that Scrooges out there could really take a lot away from. He teaches the art of giving and receiving, of sharing, of family, and of traditions. To me, that's more real than anything that Heidi has ever said or done.
Saturday, May 7, 2011
Smell the Roses, Listen to your Cashier
Working retail, you stand by the doors all day behind your register greeting people as they walk through the door and wishing them a good day as they leave. Thrilling, I know. I've learned something ever since September, and that's that people forgot how to listen somewhere along the line.
In high school, I used to get mocked for being so loud that people could hear me down the hallways...not just down the hallway, though. Upstairs and around the corner. I get shushed at restaurants and movie theaters. My laugh always draws in attention. "Oh, Shelby, your laugh is so infectious." Don't worry, people, I know that means annoying, but I can't help it. So, how is it then that my loud voice stops 3 feet short of me every time I work at my job?
It feels like one in ever fifteen customers actually respond to me when I say, "Hi, how are you doing today?" I understand that in our culture, that phrase has been abused. It no longer means, "I am genuinely curious on how your day has gone thus far." Instead, it has been boiled down to an systematic, "Hey," in meaning. People walk around the mall, talking to their children with iPod earbuds in their ears. Excuse me? How is that setting a good example of someone who is attentive to what you're saying? How is that being responsive to your child's needs? How is that not rude?
It's not anyone's fault. It's just society and its changing priorities toward technology. Suddenly, answering a text is more important than decent conversation at a dining room table with family. Answering that one phone call is more important than driving. Playing Angry Birds is more important than playing the piano. I'm not saying that technology is evil. I'm saying it's providing a distraction. Our attention span is already, what? Fifteen minutes? Ten? No wonder someone can't even listen long enough to say hello back at a mall. They're too wrapped up in checking out their outfit, their phones, and their boyfriends, and not wrapped up enough in just simply checking out at my register.
When I tell someone about the survey at the bottom of their receipt, one of the most common responses is: "Do I have to sign there?" No. I just explained what you have to do. If you don't get that 15% off coupon for not doing the survey, it is no longer my problem. Another thing: just read. If you can't listen to words coming out of my mouth then at least read the words I am pointing to.
What I'm saying is this. Be aware of the present so that years later you don't look at your life and wonder what you were doing. You were on the phone. Think you met that person before? You didn't, you just simply walked on by, your face glued to technology. Just start listening. Eye contact is the most important thing. Oh, and one more thing: Please respond to your cashier when she wishes a good day because maybe then she'll actually mean it.
In high school, I used to get mocked for being so loud that people could hear me down the hallways...not just down the hallway, though. Upstairs and around the corner. I get shushed at restaurants and movie theaters. My laugh always draws in attention. "Oh, Shelby, your laugh is so infectious." Don't worry, people, I know that means annoying, but I can't help it. So, how is it then that my loud voice stops 3 feet short of me every time I work at my job?
It feels like one in ever fifteen customers actually respond to me when I say, "Hi, how are you doing today?" I understand that in our culture, that phrase has been abused. It no longer means, "I am genuinely curious on how your day has gone thus far." Instead, it has been boiled down to an systematic, "Hey," in meaning. People walk around the mall, talking to their children with iPod earbuds in their ears. Excuse me? How is that setting a good example of someone who is attentive to what you're saying? How is that being responsive to your child's needs? How is that not rude?
It's not anyone's fault. It's just society and its changing priorities toward technology. Suddenly, answering a text is more important than decent conversation at a dining room table with family. Answering that one phone call is more important than driving. Playing Angry Birds is more important than playing the piano. I'm not saying that technology is evil. I'm saying it's providing a distraction. Our attention span is already, what? Fifteen minutes? Ten? No wonder someone can't even listen long enough to say hello back at a mall. They're too wrapped up in checking out their outfit, their phones, and their boyfriends, and not wrapped up enough in just simply checking out at my register.
When I tell someone about the survey at the bottom of their receipt, one of the most common responses is: "Do I have to sign there?" No. I just explained what you have to do. If you don't get that 15% off coupon for not doing the survey, it is no longer my problem. Another thing: just read. If you can't listen to words coming out of my mouth then at least read the words I am pointing to.
What I'm saying is this. Be aware of the present so that years later you don't look at your life and wonder what you were doing. You were on the phone. Think you met that person before? You didn't, you just simply walked on by, your face glued to technology. Just start listening. Eye contact is the most important thing. Oh, and one more thing: Please respond to your cashier when she wishes a good day because maybe then she'll actually mean it.
Monday, May 2, 2011
Osama's Death
"For through violence you may murder a murderer, but you can’t murder murder. Through violence you may murder a liar, but you can’t establish truth. Through violence you may murder a hater, but you can’t murder hate through violence. Darkness cannot put out darkness; only light can do that" -Martin Luther King Jr.
I told myself I wasn't going to include current events in my blog, but major country-affecting ones--okay, fine.
Everyone's heard that Osama Bin Laden was shot and killed, super CIA-gun firing stuff. It's all over the internet and floating around the country. Some have taken to celebrating his death, others, like myself, are thankful a man will never kill again, but you won't hear me cheering for the dead.
I agree, this is an event that like 9/11 can bring our country a greater sense of patriotic-ness. However, it's difficult to have patriotism when gas prices are estimated to be 6 dollars in the next few years, our soldiers are still fighting overseas, homosexuals are not allowed to be married in most states, teen pregnancy and violence is being glorified, our national debt is growing even more, there's an overwhelming unemployment rate, there are budget cuts all over the US in education, and so I'm sorry but one man's death is not going to make me suddenly love everything about this country.
My heart goes out the victims' families of 9/11. I understand that a sense of justice has been served. However, to cheer and hoot and holler and to celebrate about a man being killed, I just don't see how that's right, no matter how "evil" the person was. It makes me uncomfortable to say the least. I guess I'm just a Star Wars girl, but this seems too appropriate to discount: "Fear is the path to the Dark Side. Fear leads to anger. Anger leads to hate. Hate leads to suffering," -Yoda. We feared Osama so much it led to hate. Hate spreads more hate. It's a disease. Ultimately, the towers fell because of hate. Osama fell because we hated him, too. We can show love toward the families affected by 9/11, but I think showing hate toward Osama is infectious and nothing good can come out of it.
I told myself I wasn't going to include current events in my blog, but major country-affecting ones--okay, fine.
Everyone's heard that Osama Bin Laden was shot and killed, super CIA-gun firing stuff. It's all over the internet and floating around the country. Some have taken to celebrating his death, others, like myself, are thankful a man will never kill again, but you won't hear me cheering for the dead.
I agree, this is an event that like 9/11 can bring our country a greater sense of patriotic-ness. However, it's difficult to have patriotism when gas prices are estimated to be 6 dollars in the next few years, our soldiers are still fighting overseas, homosexuals are not allowed to be married in most states, teen pregnancy and violence is being glorified, our national debt is growing even more, there's an overwhelming unemployment rate, there are budget cuts all over the US in education, and so I'm sorry but one man's death is not going to make me suddenly love everything about this country.
My heart goes out the victims' families of 9/11. I understand that a sense of justice has been served. However, to cheer and hoot and holler and to celebrate about a man being killed, I just don't see how that's right, no matter how "evil" the person was. It makes me uncomfortable to say the least. I guess I'm just a Star Wars girl, but this seems too appropriate to discount: "Fear is the path to the Dark Side. Fear leads to anger. Anger leads to hate. Hate leads to suffering," -Yoda. We feared Osama so much it led to hate. Hate spreads more hate. It's a disease. Ultimately, the towers fell because of hate. Osama fell because we hated him, too. We can show love toward the families affected by 9/11, but I think showing hate toward Osama is infectious and nothing good can come out of it.
Wednesday, April 27, 2011
On the Outside Looking In
My favorite times of the day--any day--are the ones when my mundane schedule is thrown out of its almighty stability. However, if there were no structured schedules, those off-days would seem to be no big deal.
Perhaps that's the draw to sick days in school. Leaving class early, walking down the halls while schoool is going on behind every door, talking to the office lady you would never have known if you were healthy and sitting in class. When I got home from school after being sick, I would love to sit and watch the cartoons that I never got to watch during class. Not that they were good. Heck, most of the time it was Nick Jr. But it wasn't about the quality--it was about being there to witness what your peers couldn't as they sit and listen to a long-drawn out lecture then pack their things and go to their lockers, stop by a friend to say hi, then continue to their next class to listen to another lecture.
The problem with loving this excitement is that it involves a mixture of sponteneity and randomness. I'm writing this because I got done with my Economics class early. Usually I get off right at 9:00 PM and head to Applebee's for trivia night. It was just randomness that led me to the school's Computer Commons. But being spontaneous is a large factor in all this, too. It's almost like being a Yes Man. If someone asks you to go to the movies on a school night, go. Miss your television show. Just tape it. Dinner with the family? Screw it. This movie will never be in the theaters again after a few weeks.
There's just something about going against the lulling flow that lures me to a sense of excitement. I love sitting in hallways or on park benches and watching poeple, I love running into friends at the grocery store then deciding to go get ice cream, I love going home sick or sleeping in and skipping class, I love having random dentist appointments, I love easedropping, I love starting up conversations with people I don't know, I love complimenting people, I love exploring, I love going to the bathroom in the middle of class, I love picking up food orders during work, I love waiting anywhere, I love taking new routes to work or school...
I love looking at my life from an outside perception.
Perhaps that's the draw to sick days in school. Leaving class early, walking down the halls while schoool is going on behind every door, talking to the office lady you would never have known if you were healthy and sitting in class. When I got home from school after being sick, I would love to sit and watch the cartoons that I never got to watch during class. Not that they were good. Heck, most of the time it was Nick Jr. But it wasn't about the quality--it was about being there to witness what your peers couldn't as they sit and listen to a long-drawn out lecture then pack their things and go to their lockers, stop by a friend to say hi, then continue to their next class to listen to another lecture.
The problem with loving this excitement is that it involves a mixture of sponteneity and randomness. I'm writing this because I got done with my Economics class early. Usually I get off right at 9:00 PM and head to Applebee's for trivia night. It was just randomness that led me to the school's Computer Commons. But being spontaneous is a large factor in all this, too. It's almost like being a Yes Man. If someone asks you to go to the movies on a school night, go. Miss your television show. Just tape it. Dinner with the family? Screw it. This movie will never be in the theaters again after a few weeks.
There's just something about going against the lulling flow that lures me to a sense of excitement. I love sitting in hallways or on park benches and watching poeple, I love running into friends at the grocery store then deciding to go get ice cream, I love going home sick or sleeping in and skipping class, I love having random dentist appointments, I love easedropping, I love starting up conversations with people I don't know, I love complimenting people, I love exploring, I love going to the bathroom in the middle of class, I love picking up food orders during work, I love waiting anywhere, I love taking new routes to work or school...
I love looking at my life from an outside perception.
Sunday, April 24, 2011
Girl from the Past
So I was working the other night when out of the blue I see this girl from my past walk past my register with a friend. I get this sinking feeling in my stomach and this funny taste in my mouth. Old emotions that I haven't felt toward another person in over a decade come rushing to the front of my brain...right in that good ol' anger button in-between my eyes. It's not just anger though, it's resentment--old jealousy that these days should be void and now just sound petty. Things like: she's prettier than me, she's quicker on her feet, she had more friends than me, she was into boys before I even knew what the draw to them was, and she knew everyone's buttons and how to push them.
All I could do was sit there and quickly pray she didn't come over to my register. It was Good Friday and we were packed. The store was overflowing with children and their parents buying last-minute Easter dresses and suits. Girls buying prom dresses and confirmation dresses. Husbands buying presents for their wives for mother's day. (Side note: Whoever decided putting all these holidays and events so close to each other this year is a jerk and needs to work retail for a week.) What I'm saying is that I was exhausted. There was no way I could even pretend to be decent to this girl...this mean, self-centered girl from my past.
Sure enough, she walks right up to my register. She has this look of fake surprise on her face, melted with a snide smile suggesting smugness. Well, little does she know, I'm the Queen of Masks and I can go from exhausted to helpful and cheerful in a matter of a slightly higher voice and a radiant smile on my face from years of practice. It's difficult, but I muster it. I think to myself, She's nothing. I'm way more confident than I was back then. She doesn't know me. But it's useless. I mold right back to that shy, self-conscious girl I once was.
She asks me where I'm going to school. I tell her the community college I attend and she is quick to add that she went to Western for a semester. She asks me what I'm going into. I tell her I want to teach English to high schoolers--which suddenly sounds weak and too simple. A quote I once read prances in front of my brain saying, "People who go into teaching just do it because they can't think of anything better to do." Great. I look at her. Luckily, she loves one-upping people so she says, "I wanted to be a teacher too, but then I decided to go into nursing." See, she never used to bully me, not physically. It was pointed comments like this that wore me down over time. In one sentence, she degraded my whole life's plans. I resort to my old ways--I stay quiet and just hope she goes away. I hurry through her order and get her out of there as fast as I can. We talk a idly chat a little more, but for the life of me, I can't remember what we said.
These days, my 20 year-old self would have talked about the peace corps and Korea and all the plans I have for helping out all over the world. I would have talked about how my passion grew because of amazing teachers at community college that has teachers straight from four-year colleges making extra dough. I would have been prideful in talking about what I have planned, how happy I am, how much I work, how proud of myself I am.
Why is it that certain people can bring out the worst in you? How is it that I thought I came so far only to be spun around and shown that I'm just the same little girl that I was underneath it? Is that who I am? Can I ever change that. Maybe it's just her. Maybe it's just me. All I know is that if I keep wishing to go back and change that conversation, it will only turn out the same every time. Sometimes it's just like that.
All I could do was sit there and quickly pray she didn't come over to my register. It was Good Friday and we were packed. The store was overflowing with children and their parents buying last-minute Easter dresses and suits. Girls buying prom dresses and confirmation dresses. Husbands buying presents for their wives for mother's day. (Side note: Whoever decided putting all these holidays and events so close to each other this year is a jerk and needs to work retail for a week.) What I'm saying is that I was exhausted. There was no way I could even pretend to be decent to this girl...this mean, self-centered girl from my past.
Sure enough, she walks right up to my register. She has this look of fake surprise on her face, melted with a snide smile suggesting smugness. Well, little does she know, I'm the Queen of Masks and I can go from exhausted to helpful and cheerful in a matter of a slightly higher voice and a radiant smile on my face from years of practice. It's difficult, but I muster it. I think to myself, She's nothing. I'm way more confident than I was back then. She doesn't know me. But it's useless. I mold right back to that shy, self-conscious girl I once was.
She asks me where I'm going to school. I tell her the community college I attend and she is quick to add that she went to Western for a semester. She asks me what I'm going into. I tell her I want to teach English to high schoolers--which suddenly sounds weak and too simple. A quote I once read prances in front of my brain saying, "People who go into teaching just do it because they can't think of anything better to do." Great. I look at her. Luckily, she loves one-upping people so she says, "I wanted to be a teacher too, but then I decided to go into nursing." See, she never used to bully me, not physically. It was pointed comments like this that wore me down over time. In one sentence, she degraded my whole life's plans. I resort to my old ways--I stay quiet and just hope she goes away. I hurry through her order and get her out of there as fast as I can. We talk a idly chat a little more, but for the life of me, I can't remember what we said.
These days, my 20 year-old self would have talked about the peace corps and Korea and all the plans I have for helping out all over the world. I would have talked about how my passion grew because of amazing teachers at community college that has teachers straight from four-year colleges making extra dough. I would have been prideful in talking about what I have planned, how happy I am, how much I work, how proud of myself I am.
Why is it that certain people can bring out the worst in you? How is it that I thought I came so far only to be spun around and shown that I'm just the same little girl that I was underneath it? Is that who I am? Can I ever change that. Maybe it's just her. Maybe it's just me. All I know is that if I keep wishing to go back and change that conversation, it will only turn out the same every time. Sometimes it's just like that.
Saturday, April 16, 2011
Do Nothing, Enjoy Everything
Well, I'm home with the flu this weekend. At first, everything that could go wrong did. I had to call off from work so that I didn't make any money this weekend. My boyfriend came home for the weekend, but we couldn't even be close on the couch together because I didn't want to get him sick so he actually left early today to go back to school. I have finals coming up and I keep falling asleep instead of studying or doing homework.
Then something awesome happened. For a half an hour, I did nothing. I'm not saying that I just watched television or surfed the web. I mean, there was a long moment where all I did was stare out of my front window (it's true, I was on a lot of meds this morning, but that's way beside the point) and watched the wind blow the tree branches. It was an exceptionally windy day today. The sky would go from dark grey to light grey. It misted on the windows occasionally. I love that spooky movie sound of the wind blowing on the sides of the house. That whistle is so frightening and exciting at the same time.
I don't remember the last time I was able to just enjoy...being and not worrying about what I have to do or where I have to be. Instead, after waking up from my three hour-long nap, I just sat there in my rocking chair under my body-warm blanket and enjoyed the nature show going on outside. It was probably the most relaxing thing I've done in...well, let's just say a while.
My challenge for you (with finals coming up and all) is that next time you feel overworked and overwhelmed, just sit down and clear your mind. Concentrate on something outside (things inside usually lead to stress, but outside things are out of your control) and take a good, long stare. Trust me, it will be worth your while. Oh, deep breathing is good, too.
Then something awesome happened. For a half an hour, I did nothing. I'm not saying that I just watched television or surfed the web. I mean, there was a long moment where all I did was stare out of my front window (it's true, I was on a lot of meds this morning, but that's way beside the point) and watched the wind blow the tree branches. It was an exceptionally windy day today. The sky would go from dark grey to light grey. It misted on the windows occasionally. I love that spooky movie sound of the wind blowing on the sides of the house. That whistle is so frightening and exciting at the same time.
I don't remember the last time I was able to just enjoy...being and not worrying about what I have to do or where I have to be. Instead, after waking up from my three hour-long nap, I just sat there in my rocking chair under my body-warm blanket and enjoyed the nature show going on outside. It was probably the most relaxing thing I've done in...well, let's just say a while.
My challenge for you (with finals coming up and all) is that next time you feel overworked and overwhelmed, just sit down and clear your mind. Concentrate on something outside (things inside usually lead to stress, but outside things are out of your control) and take a good, long stare. Trust me, it will be worth your while. Oh, deep breathing is good, too.
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