Quotes of the Day: "Where is the good in goodbye? " ~Meredith Willson, The Music Man
"Why does it take a minute to say hello and forever to say goodbye?" ~Author Unknown
[Quotes from quotegarden.com]
Songs of the Day: The Call by Regina Spektor, For Good by Idina Menzel and Kristen Chenoweth, Time of Your Life by Green Day
*Disclaimer: This is much more stream of consciousness than usual. Forgive me.
In light of recent graduations of many dear friends, enemies, and loves, I've been saying goodbye a lot. Not only to people, but to the ideas, hopes, dreams, and traditions that went away with them. These kids, the ones I've grown up with, the ones I've fallen in love with, the ones I've fought and loathed, made the experience of my year what it was. And now, besides a half-hearted congratulations, the only thing I can say is...goodbye. What an awful word. Why on earth does it include the word 'good'? There's nothing good about a farewell. Just contemplating the word reminds me of fun times and the future, which dims considerably after the utterance of that single, cursed word. Without a doubt, I'll see the majority of them again. But I can't go back to that time before we said goodbye. Just letting those syllables float out into the air changes things. It changes them a lot. What I've noticed is how it changes things differently between different people. For some, you say goodbye and the distance springs up between you as though the miles have magically appeared. For others, saying goodbye brings you closer to them in a way you never anticipated. That moment of bittersweet pause between the way you were and the unknown territory of what you'll be is all the more painful because of the uncertainty. You hang in suspense, waiting for the verdict...will you grow closer despite the distance? Or will you continue down separate paths, forever wondering what if?
Let's say the latter happens. In that case, the word goodbye becomes a question. No longer a definitive, final piece of closure, it's now a regret. One that will be pulsing through your head at two in the morning when you're wide awake, pondering your choices. It haunts you, the open ending. .You'll mentally wander back in time, replaying every interaction, wondering how things would've turned out if you'd said something else, done something bolder...it drives you crazy, the unwritten, and the only way it would fix itself is another chance to say that foolish little word. Goodbye.
But say that goodbye had brought you closer, forged a stronger bond. You clutch the moment and the person closer to you, knowing full well that the closer you get, the more agonizing it'll be when you really do have to part. Because Shakespeare lied. Parting is so not a sweet sorrow. There's nothing sweet about it. It's pure bitterness. You know you'll have to give them up. It's selfish to keep them to yourself. The world deserves a chance to love them the way you do, but you just can't bring yourself to let go. Because what if they forget the jokes and the laughter, the heavy looks, the moments of truth? You wouldn't bear it if they didn't come back. The ray of hope that'll hold you out is counting on distance to make the hearts grow fonder.
As I said, I've goodbyed a lot of friends lately. My bids of adieu have been as unique as the people I've shared them with. There have been many that are simply a "Good luck and goodbye" and that's that. But there have been others, more intricate and still not decisive. I've said goodbye only to realize we didn't want to say goodbye and have a close friendship bud, one that I am sure will continue for months, if not years in the future. I've had a goodbye that has brought a truce in a fight. Another yet that promised me a hello in the future, with nothing until then. And one goodbye that simply hasn't happened and never will, which is perhaps the most difficult to wrap my head around and accept.
Through these many, sometimes tearful farewells, I've learned one thing above all else. Peter Pan had it right all those years ago: "Never say goodbye, because goodbye means going away, and going away means forgetting." And as far as I'm concerned, never saying goodbye works just fine.
Friday, June 17, 2011
Friday, May 27, 2011
The Many Beautiful Threads of a Perfect Song
Quotes of the Day:
Music is the literature of the heart; it commences where speech ends. ~Alphonse de Lamartine
Life is one grand, sweet song, so start the music. ~Ronald Reagan
~Quotes from quotegarden.com
Song of the Day:
"Alligator Sky" by Owl City, featuring Shawn Chrystopher
Freshman year of high school, I somehow stumbled through without music. Oh, sure, I heard a song every now and then, but it was only in passing. Listening was a passive act in those dark days. Then, that summer, I was immersed in the true meaning of music. Symphonies, concerts, operas, musicals, and sweet, sporadic strings of a melodies strummed on guitars permeated my head almost every second of the day. Even after I lay in bed, sweating the hot summer nights away, the notes from my neighbor's tinny old radio floated lazily into my dreams. After returning to our house for the school year, I knew something was missing. It only took me a few days to realize: the music was quieter. Oh, it was still there all right, but I had to make an effort to hear it through the craziness of everyday life. The difference was that I wanted to, and after that magical summer, I desperately did. So I haunted iTunes for days, dusted off my iPod, played the radio constantly, and took recommendations for new songs. And before you knew it, I was hooked again to that indescribable feeling of hearing your exact emotion played out before you in song. You ever listen to a song and come away shocked because the artist has completely summed up how you're feeling in the lyrics? That happens to me at least once a week. I constantly find myself scribbling lyrics to songs on the sides of my notes, and without meaning to, I realized I've made a personal connection that cannot be broken to that song. The notes are woven together and immersed in my brain, the words sinking in and imprinting themselves on my everyday life. True magic, for me, is stumbling upon an artist or song who can perfectly sum up every little feeling and put it to a gorgeous melody.
Today, my iTunes library has almost 1500 items in it. Though it would take me, according to iTunes, 3.8 days to listen to all of those songs, it's comforting for me to know that, when the occasion arises, those songs (most of which I love) will be there to play back to me exactly what I'm feeling. I have playlists for just about everything you can imagine: some are situation playlists (see "Single? I call it free" and "Window down, hair blowing, sunglasses on, music jamming") and others are emotion playlists (see "Here's me looking away from you towards all the other adventures out there" and "Sad. Sorry."). Describe an emotion to me, and I have a song for it. Every song holds a little pearl of advice, a thread of emotional carthasis, and a way through whatever challenge you face. I don't believe in not buying a song because it's unpopular or because other people don't respect the artist. Music is not only a gift, but a lifestyle. Why let someone else control that? Life's too short to listen to crappy music. Don't just buy the Top 40 songs to be up to date; but conversely, don't not buy Top 40 music if you like it. There's nothing wrong with an Usher song! I like the pumpy, make me want to dance like crazy, feel from that kind of music. But there's also nothing wrong with a song by your favorite band no one's ever heard of. I'm getting on a tangent, so I'll keep it short and simple:
Music can change your life. All you have to do is let it play.
I'll leave you with that and a few song suggestions and quotes. In addition, I'm adding a song of the moment section to every post, so keep looking back for that!
"Don't look before you laugh, look ugly in a photograph." ~U2, City of Blinding Lights
"Sit up on the hill and watch the sun go down, when the fireflies are dancing and the moon comes out, we can turn on the lights and head back to the house, or we can take another ride on my big green tractor..." ~Jason Aldean, Big Green Tractor
"But hold your breath, because tonight will be the night that I will fall for you, over again, don't make me change my mind. I won't live to see another day, I swear it's true. Because a girl like you is impossible to find, you're impossible to find." ~Secondhand Serenade, Fall for You
Music is the literature of the heart; it commences where speech ends. ~Alphonse de Lamartine
Life is one grand, sweet song, so start the music. ~Ronald Reagan
~Quotes from quotegarden.com
Song of the Day:
"Alligator Sky" by Owl City, featuring Shawn Chrystopher
Freshman year of high school, I somehow stumbled through without music. Oh, sure, I heard a song every now and then, but it was only in passing. Listening was a passive act in those dark days. Then, that summer, I was immersed in the true meaning of music. Symphonies, concerts, operas, musicals, and sweet, sporadic strings of a melodies strummed on guitars permeated my head almost every second of the day. Even after I lay in bed, sweating the hot summer nights away, the notes from my neighbor's tinny old radio floated lazily into my dreams. After returning to our house for the school year, I knew something was missing. It only took me a few days to realize: the music was quieter. Oh, it was still there all right, but I had to make an effort to hear it through the craziness of everyday life. The difference was that I wanted to, and after that magical summer, I desperately did. So I haunted iTunes for days, dusted off my iPod, played the radio constantly, and took recommendations for new songs. And before you knew it, I was hooked again to that indescribable feeling of hearing your exact emotion played out before you in song. You ever listen to a song and come away shocked because the artist has completely summed up how you're feeling in the lyrics? That happens to me at least once a week. I constantly find myself scribbling lyrics to songs on the sides of my notes, and without meaning to, I realized I've made a personal connection that cannot be broken to that song. The notes are woven together and immersed in my brain, the words sinking in and imprinting themselves on my everyday life. True magic, for me, is stumbling upon an artist or song who can perfectly sum up every little feeling and put it to a gorgeous melody.
Today, my iTunes library has almost 1500 items in it. Though it would take me, according to iTunes, 3.8 days to listen to all of those songs, it's comforting for me to know that, when the occasion arises, those songs (most of which I love) will be there to play back to me exactly what I'm feeling. I have playlists for just about everything you can imagine: some are situation playlists (see "Single? I call it free" and "Window down, hair blowing, sunglasses on, music jamming") and others are emotion playlists (see "Here's me looking away from you towards all the other adventures out there" and "Sad. Sorry."). Describe an emotion to me, and I have a song for it. Every song holds a little pearl of advice, a thread of emotional carthasis, and a way through whatever challenge you face. I don't believe in not buying a song because it's unpopular or because other people don't respect the artist. Music is not only a gift, but a lifestyle. Why let someone else control that? Life's too short to listen to crappy music. Don't just buy the Top 40 songs to be up to date; but conversely, don't not buy Top 40 music if you like it. There's nothing wrong with an Usher song! I like the pumpy, make me want to dance like crazy, feel from that kind of music. But there's also nothing wrong with a song by your favorite band no one's ever heard of. I'm getting on a tangent, so I'll keep it short and simple:
Music can change your life. All you have to do is let it play.
I'll leave you with that and a few song suggestions and quotes. In addition, I'm adding a song of the moment section to every post, so keep looking back for that!
"Don't look before you laugh, look ugly in a photograph." ~U2, City of Blinding Lights
"Sit up on the hill and watch the sun go down, when the fireflies are dancing and the moon comes out, we can turn on the lights and head back to the house, or we can take another ride on my big green tractor..." ~Jason Aldean, Big Green Tractor
"But hold your breath, because tonight will be the night that I will fall for you, over again, don't make me change my mind. I won't live to see another day, I swear it's true. Because a girl like you is impossible to find, you're impossible to find." ~Secondhand Serenade, Fall for You
Wednesday, March 16, 2011
The Intricate Paradox of Little Sisters
Quotes of the day: Having a sister is like having a best friend you can't get rid of. You know whatever you do, they'll still be there. ~Amy Li
If you don't understand how a woman could both love her sister dearly and want to wring her neck at the same time, then you were probably an only child. ~Linda Sunshine
[Quotes from quotegarden.com]
I am an older sister to a brother who's two years younger than I and a sister who's four years younger. My dear brother will be put on the shelf until later notice (sorry, Guy), but Julia, my lovely sister, is the subject of today's musings. Julia and I have quite a history (13 years worth, in fact) and I wanted to write down some of my favorite memories just to see how much our relationship has changed since that day 13 years ago. I still remember the day Julia was born. I was staying at my grandparents' house, and my brother and I were playing in a little baby pool when my parents pulled up. They got out of the car and called us over to see the little pink bundle that would change our lives. I, in my infinte four year old wisdom, declined politely, saying "No thanks, I'd rather just keep swimming." Since that day, though, a lot has changed. In the early days, I taught that little kid how to read, giving her a steady advantage over her peers still today, played endless games of mommy and baby (guess who was who), gave her many makeovers, and, in some ways, I think, forced her to be mature beyond her years. Through those years, we were constantly together, always experiencing the same adventures and trials. Julia copied everything I did, whether it was getting my hair cut or buying a new Barbie doll. We were so close that when I was roughly 10, we asked our parents to allow us to share a room. We begged and begged for weeks and were finally given the go ahead. Julia moved in, and we went to work painting, decorating, and making our room the ultimate sleepover location. In a room painted orange, decorated as a Hawaiian beach scene, we giggled until late in the night (which, at that time was roughly 10 PM). I convinced Julia to help me create a rotating display in one corner (think school display cases) and she happily went along with my nutty plans. After seeing how easily she was persuaded to help, I got her in on my master plan: convince our parents to let us get a hamster. Roughly $120 dollars and a month of whining later, we got Louie, who lived with us in our now periwinkle bedroom that was adorned with posters of kittens on Julia's side and a freakily large collection of calendars on mine. Notice, by this point, we had split the room into sides. I had entered into my tweens and was now finding that mini me who copied my every action and lived in the same room as me was less than cute. In fact, as I so tactfully told her, I found her downright annoying. And I hated her stupid hamster. So there. Needless to say, the next few years were filled with tension, fighting, and cold shoulders. Gone were the days that I would hang over the side of my bunk gossiping and picking out her outfits for the next day. I resented the fact that my younger self had sentenced me to this prison. Finally, the year I was a freshman in high school, we extracted permission from our parents to split. Plans moved slowly, but just in time, as I entered my sophomore year, she moved into the room next to mine and I had my own room for the first time in four years. We planned out our new rooms (seperately this time) and breathed sighs of relief. Then....it was as if somebody had flipped a switch: as soon as we were sleeping seperately again, we were friends. Slowly, cautiously, we began talking to each other about things other than how happy we would be if the other left. We got each other through my Grandma's death and she was my rock of sanity through the craziness of sophomore year. I tried to be patient with her still lagging sense of style (don't worry, she's on board now) and listened as she chronicled her endless stories of her school day. When we realized we would be sharing a room in our summer cottage, we actually embraced the idea of sharing a room again. We replayed our room planning roles from years past and had fun getting to know each other all over again. These days, Julia and I are best friends (most days). We shop together, steal each other's clothes, text each other from the room next door, crank the music, throw some crazy dance parties, and share the latest gossip on everything. I try to be the best big sister I can be, and she's always good for a laugh or some off the wall advice, depending on the day. So, here's to Julia, the best little sister this blogger could ask for. Love you, sis!
PS-I'm actually starting to believe what Mom always told us..."Wait till you grow up-your siblings will be your best friends!" :)
If you don't understand how a woman could both love her sister dearly and want to wring her neck at the same time, then you were probably an only child. ~Linda Sunshine
[Quotes from quotegarden.com]
I am an older sister to a brother who's two years younger than I and a sister who's four years younger. My dear brother will be put on the shelf until later notice (sorry, Guy), but Julia, my lovely sister, is the subject of today's musings. Julia and I have quite a history (13 years worth, in fact) and I wanted to write down some of my favorite memories just to see how much our relationship has changed since that day 13 years ago. I still remember the day Julia was born. I was staying at my grandparents' house, and my brother and I were playing in a little baby pool when my parents pulled up. They got out of the car and called us over to see the little pink bundle that would change our lives. I, in my infinte four year old wisdom, declined politely, saying "No thanks, I'd rather just keep swimming." Since that day, though, a lot has changed. In the early days, I taught that little kid how to read, giving her a steady advantage over her peers still today, played endless games of mommy and baby (guess who was who), gave her many makeovers, and, in some ways, I think, forced her to be mature beyond her years. Through those years, we were constantly together, always experiencing the same adventures and trials. Julia copied everything I did, whether it was getting my hair cut or buying a new Barbie doll. We were so close that when I was roughly 10, we asked our parents to allow us to share a room. We begged and begged for weeks and were finally given the go ahead. Julia moved in, and we went to work painting, decorating, and making our room the ultimate sleepover location. In a room painted orange, decorated as a Hawaiian beach scene, we giggled until late in the night (which, at that time was roughly 10 PM). I convinced Julia to help me create a rotating display in one corner (think school display cases) and she happily went along with my nutty plans. After seeing how easily she was persuaded to help, I got her in on my master plan: convince our parents to let us get a hamster. Roughly $120 dollars and a month of whining later, we got Louie, who lived with us in our now periwinkle bedroom that was adorned with posters of kittens on Julia's side and a freakily large collection of calendars on mine. Notice, by this point, we had split the room into sides. I had entered into my tweens and was now finding that mini me who copied my every action and lived in the same room as me was less than cute. In fact, as I so tactfully told her, I found her downright annoying. And I hated her stupid hamster. So there. Needless to say, the next few years were filled with tension, fighting, and cold shoulders. Gone were the days that I would hang over the side of my bunk gossiping and picking out her outfits for the next day. I resented the fact that my younger self had sentenced me to this prison. Finally, the year I was a freshman in high school, we extracted permission from our parents to split. Plans moved slowly, but just in time, as I entered my sophomore year, she moved into the room next to mine and I had my own room for the first time in four years. We planned out our new rooms (seperately this time) and breathed sighs of relief. Then....it was as if somebody had flipped a switch: as soon as we were sleeping seperately again, we were friends. Slowly, cautiously, we began talking to each other about things other than how happy we would be if the other left. We got each other through my Grandma's death and she was my rock of sanity through the craziness of sophomore year. I tried to be patient with her still lagging sense of style (don't worry, she's on board now) and listened as she chronicled her endless stories of her school day. When we realized we would be sharing a room in our summer cottage, we actually embraced the idea of sharing a room again. We replayed our room planning roles from years past and had fun getting to know each other all over again. These days, Julia and I are best friends (most days). We shop together, steal each other's clothes, text each other from the room next door, crank the music, throw some crazy dance parties, and share the latest gossip on everything. I try to be the best big sister I can be, and she's always good for a laugh or some off the wall advice, depending on the day. So, here's to Julia, the best little sister this blogger could ask for. Love you, sis!
PS-I'm actually starting to believe what Mom always told us..."Wait till you grow up-your siblings will be your best friends!" :)
Friday, March 11, 2011
And so it begins.....
After enjoying several days worth of humorous blogging by my marvelous friend Bex (www.musingsofaboredteenager.blogspot.com), I've succumbed and decided to join in the fun and start my own blog. So, here goes nothing....
Quote of the day: "That's what a ship is, you know. It's not just a keel and a hull and a deck and sails, that's what a ship needs but what a ship is... what the Black Pearl really is... is freedom." [Quote from imdb.com]
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