This is not my home...

Now, judging by the title of this post, I bet you're thinking, "Oh, she's going to talk about heaven." Wrong. I'm not. And besides, that would be way to literal. Haven't you noticed that most of my blog titles are a bit of a stretch? They make sense to me, but I understand that they won't make sense to everyone. ... and that's okay. Anyway... so, if I'm not talking about heaven then what am I talking about?

My family came to see me yesterday on their way home from a college visit with my brother. We went out to eat and I once again took notice of how my brother is growing, but he still maintains the old habits; such as, eating his food in compartments. He ate all of his coleslaw. Then he ate all of his fries. And then he ate his burger. There is to be no mixing of the food before it enters the stomach. No mixing. That rule never gets broken. I told him that he was a compartmentalist.

It doesn't take much to get my mom going on a rant about habits. Let's just say that my family is full of habits...and when they're disrupted...well...it's bad. She said that at this college visit, whenever they would meet back in the big conference room, my dad and brother would pick the exact same seats. We used to sit in the same seats every Sunday; and if we could still swing it, I'm sure we would now too.

It always makes me laugh when I notice these habitual things in my family.

Today in Language and Linguistics we moved to a different classroom. (I just realized it was for the VCR.) And that was strange for me. I had to sit in a completely different room...and it definitely through of my groove. (Weird, I know.)

Then, I went to Poetry Writing and someone was sitting in my chair! Now, I don't actually care, it wasn't a big deal, but it was still a displacement.

And then it hit me.

I am so my daddy's girl.

I like my routine, and I get flustered when it's disrupted.

At least I don't compartmentalize my food. That would be silly.

"Now's the time for letting go. I surrender all. Can You hear my call, when I'm at the end of myself? Is this where You begin, when I'm caving in." [Remedy Drive]

Why do I do the things I do?

In my Language and Linguistics class we have started talking about grammar. (This is where most people tell me I'm crazy for being and English major. Who likes grammar?) Well, we've been discussing the difference between writing and usage. Most of the time, when someone says, "They have really bad writing skills," they mean the usage, not the writing itself. Someone can be an excellent writer--usually characterized by complete and original thoughts and ideas--but then their usage can be sour--comma use is poor, spelling is bad, sentence structure is lacking, ect.

Now, I've always regarded myself as a decent writer. (Can you see a bit of that confidence coming into play? Really, if you're writing and you think it's worth reading, you have a least a little bit of an ego.) In the middle of class though, I started to have a mental break-down. Am I doing what I'm supposed to be doing? Do my usage skills suck? Should I switch my major? Do all of my colleagues cringed when they read my papers? Did I proof-read that paper for Dr. Ashby very well? What about the one for Dr. Gernant? What would I do if I didn't write? That's the basic idea of what this internal melt-down looked like.

Then I had to go to Poetry Writing. Now, I love that class, it is one of my favorites. I'm normally fairly vocal about my opinions in that class...but yesterday I just couldn't do it. Those feelings of self-doubt, that Ling and Lang instilled in me, were leaking over into my poetry. Now, I did speak a little, but not nearly as much as I normally do...at least it felt like less.

After that I had to work. While I was working I needed to finish a paper for Dr. Thurber, before our meeting. The entire time I was stressing out about how I wasn't using perfect MLA formatting... (I hate formatting, by the way.)

Once I got into his office though, a deep calm seem to rush over me. There's just something about that man that soothes the frayed nerves. We had an excellent conversation about my independent study. He would read to me little bits of what I had written in previous papers and then he would tell me how well I articulated it and would ask me to expound upon what I had said. These are papers I had written at least a month ago, so it was kind of hard to recall exactly I had meant when typing them.

The meeting lasted a half an hour. And when it was all done, Dr. Thurber told me he was very glad to see where I was going with this research into Tolkien's Middle Earth. Deep sigh of relief. I am where I am supposed to be. This is at least part of what I was meant to do. Praise God for gentle reminders.


"If you're a ship and you're lost in the ocean, I'll be the wind in your sails, give you motion. I will guide you home. If you're too far out that you can't see the shore line, I'll be the lighthouse shining in the night time. I will guide you home. I will guide you home. When the night is long, when the storm is strong, I will guide you, I will guide you home." [Remedy Drive]

Let music never die in me...

Okay, this post will probably end up being lengthy...and for that I am sorry, but music has just been a big factor in my daily life right now. Mostly in negative ways, actually. Which is incredibly sad.

Where to start.... let's go in chronological order, so what became an issue first.

Remedy Drive. Wow, I just love these guys. I've been listening to them since before they were Remedy Drive and they were just Remedy. I have three signed posters from them, a T-Shirt, all their CDs (except for the EP, sad day) and I can't even tell you how many concerts I've been to. I even know some of their family (their uncle was my english teacher and I went to the same church as him and his family) and I have been to a relatives house after a concert and had snacks with them. Yeah. (I doubt they remember me, I was a sophomore or something like that.) Well, this last weekend I was talking to a friend about them, and he didn't realize they were all brothers. So then I was listening to them and was wondering when they were going to be in Nebraska again, they're here fairly often after all. Well, I was met with the news that (I think?) David is the only remaining Zach in the band. Which breaks my heart, honestly. I'm sure the new guys are fine...but it's just not the same. You know? Following a band since their infancy makes you very protective of the members. I even had a dream that I ran into their uncle and was asking him questions about it. Yeah. Music let down number one.

This next music encounter is positive. My friend Ben was in Nebraska with his a cappella group, Living Water, from Yale. It was good to see him, and here the group. They were fantastic. If you ever get a chance to see them, good luck with that, do it! It will be well worth your time. I was blown away, and it made me really miss my a cappella group from high school.

Now... high school leads to this disheartening situation. Nebraska is in a deficit, what state isn't? Well, they're having to make budget cuts... and that means that the Public School system in Grand Island is kind of getting screwed over. And it's all the programming that was so important to me in high school. They're cutting the High Ability Learners program... which kept me sane through scholarship season as a senior. Also, they're cutting German, probably because it's not a "valid" language... I say they should cut French then too, come on! Grand Island was founded by German immigrants, doesn't that give it a bit of a leg up? I guess not. There is also a high possibility that they will be "riffing" fifth grade band and orchestra. Which may not sound all that bad (but really it is, honestly), but that means that those teachers that are tenured will be guaranteed positions within the system... so there is a very likely chance that the current music teacher at my high school will be replaced by a fifth grade band teacher. Yes, let's say it all together now: "What?" That's not the most disappointing thing for me, surprisingly. Why, you ask? Let me tell you.

I am convinced that the current teacher is great. I know he is. He student taught there when I was a junior. He also student taught for quite possibly one of the best teachers to ever come through the department. Mr. LaBrie. Now, he doesn't teach there anymore, he teaches at a private university now, where he should have been all along, honestly. That's right, my high school music teacher was on par with a college professor. My high school has bad luck with music teachers. The kids in the grade after mine had a new teacher every year. Yeah. It sucks. And I know one of the prime arguments right now is that the kids just need some stability. I agree. What really irks me is that some of the kids are saying they won't do music anymore if they get a new teacher. That's bull crap.

Music is bigger than the teachers you have in high school. The kids in the class after mine went on after LaBrie resigned. Now that's hard. Yes, this current teacher is good, and the situation is bad, but if the kids of 2010 could do it, so can the kids of 2012 on down. Quiting the program is not the answer here. Quiting has never been the answer in music. Yes, this all sucks, but it can be overcome, regardless of the results of the voting in the coming weeks.

Every year since I was a sophomore I sang "The Awakening" with Chamber Singers. It was always during the last concert, a kind of sending off for the seniors. I don't know if they're continuing that tradition or not, now that LaBrie is gone. But the epiphany of the song is, "Awake, awake my soul and sing! The time for praise has come! The silence of the night has passed, a new day has begun! Let music never die in me. Forever let my spirit sing. Wherever emptiness is found, let there be joy in glorious song. Let music live!" It's beautiful, and will forever echo in my soul.

"I dreamed a dream, a silent dream, where no birds sang, no steeples rang, and teardrops fell like rain. I dreamed a dream..." [The Awakening]

You'll See My Heart in the Saddest State It's Ever Been

I want to start writing again. And I don't mean the occasional paper for class. (And by occasional I mean biweekly.)

For my Language and Linguistics class we've been reading a lot of articles on gender/sexuality in language. It's been really interesting... and included a lot of feminist writers. Now, I'm not a feminist, not in the contemporary sense of the word, but some of the things made a lot of sense. (Some of it was also totally ridiculous, but that happens.) One of the writers talked about writing being a way of release for women. The idea is that women have been suppressed and that they are forced to use the language of men (the gender, not the race). She issues a call for women to write, but the unfortunate thing is that women still have to write in this language that has suppressed them. (Whatever, I think women get the better end of that deal, maybe I'll elaborate on that later.) The point of this massive paragraph is this: I want to write to give my heart a little release from whatever has been weighing it down.

I just finished reading "The Absolutely True Diary of a Part-Time Indian" by Sherman Alexie. And it was really legitimate. I went in with some hesitation, expecting some white hatred or something... but that wasn't what happened it all. In fact, this may have been one of my favorite books about racial issues. But in this book the main character transfers from a reservation school to an all white school.

I feel like an Indian at a school of whites. Everyone here is connected somehow. It's crazy. And they all have stories about people they now. And I can't decide if it's dwelling on the past or if it's just a camaraderie. Either way... I feel like an outsider. I'm the non-Lutheran looking in... and yes, there are people who don't care... but there are jokes that I will never get.

In Young Adult Lit we read "The Book Thief." And we find out that the protagonist, Liesel, is Lutheran. This is what I wrote after that was announced to the class:
'Liesel is Lutheran.'
A murmur. Like these is a deep secret, a deep understanding. One I am not invited to know. A murmur. It resonates deep within my self. A murmur. A murmur.
There is a murmur in my heart.

"All along I was looking for something else, You're something else. All along I was looking for something more, You're so much more. I finally found what I could never see before. You've always been the one that I was looking for." [Remedy Drive]