My parents spent nearly all of Saturday preparing two small ponds in the side-garden so we could move our pet turtles out of the house. At night, my mother went out to check on them and see how they were faring. I put my flip-flops on and followed after her, and once I got out there she had the bright circle of the flashlight centered in on them, causing the darkness of the night to reel in the midst of the brightness. It was chilly, almost cold, and even with my long sleeves I could feel the crispness of the air. It was very, very X-Filesish (I'm still watching them. I am a glutton or something.); the mysteriousness of the darkness filled all the corners of the side-garden, and the scraggly branches of the bouganvilla, ebony black in the night, almost seemed to sway. Which is odd, because the night had that beautiful, beautiful vacancy that comes with cooler weather and that makes the air so still. And looking up, I saw the stars, and I nearly gasped because they caught me by surprise. Typically we have the back light on, but since we were on the other side of the house the light wasn't blocking out the view of the stars. They are so faint, so terribly faint from the lights of the city, but I could still see their delicate, blurry figures seemingly twinkling in the dusty indigo sky.

Once Mom had gone inside I laid out on the concrete for awhile and looked at them. I am still wrestling with things. Not what is right vs. what is wrong, but what is acceptable vs. what is beneficial. There is so much to do, so much that can be done, and it's hard to figure out how to find time to do everything and how to plan everything out that I want to do. The universe seems so endless, as are the possibilities of time, and yet the greatness is elusive. Just laying there looking up, I seemed to see forever, and all the things that could be done and I felt the pull of humanity trying to figure out what they should do. The weight of truth is immense to grasp, and yet it is given to us so easily and freely if we only ask and seek humbly.

I worked today a ton for Word on the Street and I'm pretty confident with the laugh (Playing an older version of Elizabeth requires a rather quirky laugh. When I laugh really hard naturally it's silent, so it's hard for me to create a belly laugh that sounds authentic, but I am getting there.)

Going to church in a minute. Not sure what will happen tonight. But it is like that always with nearly everything I do. :P

Have been thinking a lot about things lately and how I have been feeling so desperate to change the way I do things and who I am. I am constantly aware that I need some sort of overhaul -- perhaps this is because I am constantly aware of the impeding, well, not necessarily impeding sin, as if I'm stumbling somewhere horendously, but more of an impeding sin of omission hanging over me. I am not doing enough good. I'm also really aware of my witness towards people. I know everyone has this whole "be yourself" and "don't care what people think of you" complex (find me a children's movie that doesn't stress that) but really, I mean, there's nowhere in the bible that even slightly suggests a shade of that. It mostly just says to die to self and hide your life in Christ and become like Him and have His personality. It also says a lot about avoiding even the appearence of evil. The thing is to not be self-conscious, but instead be God-conscious. Walk into a room and feel not the introverted awkwardness rising up inside of you, but feel the joy of God as strength in your voice.

Our water heater blew out on Monday. I believe it was made sometime in the 1940s which would give it a pretty good excuse to give out. The men came to fix it today and install a new one, which took nearly all day because my great-grandparents decided it would be interesting to have the original plumber weld the water heater into the floor. The plumber told my parents that never in his life had he seen such a water heater installed. I mostly stayed in my room all day an did Algebra and sort of got cabin fever a bit (I thought this was impossible since I am a semi-hermit, but the hermit lifestyle is only enjoyable if self-afflicted and not a product of avoiding strange people at your house who are carefully ripping welded fixtures from your floor). I spent the rest of the afternoon searching through MBTI websites trying to gain more knowledge from them because I've been searching for something on a social level. I am becoming more and more of an introvert because I have been attending more and more parties. I ended up declinding one and feeling bad about it but I get uncomfortable if I have to go somewhere every weekend. It's hard because I love people dearly and I'm trying to connect with them but sometimes it feels like I'm on another planet calling out to them, or in some other dimension trying to press into theirs. I guess I've always felt like I'm supposed to understand them perfectly. I've been watching a lot of Doctor Who lately and I look at people like Ten does. I almost feel like I'm not human and I'm looking at them from a detached perspective, but they're fascinating and I love them and I'd die for them. I just don't always feel like I'm one of them. I can relate to them and understand them, but sometimes it's not on a personal level like I feel I should. And I'm trying to figure out if that's bad or not.

I wish holiness was a coat we could wear and that the glory of God was a blanket we could spread across our beds at night. That would be awful in a way though, for them to be tied down solely to materialistic modes. But it's a lot harder to fight for holiness because no one wants it. Everyone wants peace and liberty and the rights to do this or say that, but no one wants holiness because it's hard. And yet it is so very much like a coat -- like our breastplate of righteousness, except that holiness keeps out the biting cold of transgressions. And everywhere I turn I see people hurling the most awful things at the image of God. And it is sad and I know it grieves the Lord greatly. But we dearly need holiness and the presence of God. They are lamps in a starless night.
 

My hair is currently set in curlers. I am to sleep this way and wear them all next day. My mother set them for me as we skimmed the good bits of Across the Universe. This is in preparation for going to a sweet-sixteen/costume party tomorrow that is Hollywood-themed. I was supposed to go as my favourite Hollywood celebrity (but... most of them are men! mostly because they're all geeky, older men who wear parkas quite often and talk about cameras a lot), and after I went to Sears and found a dress I absolutely love I decided on going as Pepper Potts Gwyneth Paltrow. (It is not scandously backless but it is dark blue. Alas, Tony Stark did not buy it for me, but it was on sale which is nearly as good.) My original pick was Mary Pickford but I'm not sure if I could have found a dress -- even at Goodwill -- similar to one from the period that I really liked her in (1910s) and I'm not sure if I could have gotten my hair in the proper curls. But I'm quite content with going as Gwyneth because  she's really awesome and I've been a fan of work for a long time (and she likes Spanish food, which is a good enough reason itself).

So that's basically my weekend. I think it's going to be a lot of fun. :)

I finished reading Eagle of the Ninth this morning. It was so immersing; it really was the first time in awhile that I've actually been able to feel everything and see everything. While I don't know how correct my imaginings were of things since I don't know the culture of Roman-occupied Britain very well, I still felt like I was completely transported, as if I was running along with Marcus and Esca. It's also given me a strange sense of ancientness. I don't remember the last time I read a book taking place in ancient times. Last year I studied the twentieth century, and the year before that I studied American History, and the year before that (eighth grade) I studied American History as well. In seventh grade, when I was supposed to read Eagle of the Ninth, was the last time I studied the ancients I think. So I'm not sure if I really have read a book taking place that long ago in highschool. But all of the sudden I'm aware of how humanity is still humanity. I feel a sort of brotherhood (Innocence Mission's "Brotherhood of Man" basically) with Marcus and Esca, and yet we are nearly two-thousand years apart. It's so lonely. The Brigantes and the Picts are gone and the centurions are gone, and now everything is built up. And Jane Austen always seemed so old. This is near infinite. It's so lonely.

Also, because you know, I've been watching Jamie Bell's IMDB page for nearly four years since King Kong to see whether he was going to become really famous, I'm really excited about him playing Esca. I think he will be perfect. So, I thought I would post this because he's really, really cute! and because he does the Frodo Baggins Chicken Dance!! well, I'm not really sure why. :D Naomi dances really well, too. :) I wish people still got together at parties and danced like this, instead of more modern dance moves. Down in the city, at New Years, they have formal balls and everyone dresses up. Unfortunately, all they do is grind. :( I want to meet people who still jig and folk dance. I hope I will someday.
 

This weekend has been a three-day one, and I spent nearly all of yesterday researching the Brigantes and the Picts. I found a website that claims there is a legend of the Celtic Spanish King, King Breoghan, who ruled a great deal of Spain, including Galicia. Sometime during his rule he sent a group of his people up into Great Britain, who then settled somewhere around north England and became the Brigantes. This is aweosome because my mother's family is a mixture of Galician and Asturian, and my father is either Irish (according to legend, King Breoghan's son settled Ireland), Welsh, or English, and probably a good deal of Dutch coming from another line (alas, I don't think we have much chance of being Scottish at all). So if this Celtic Galician legend is true, and my father is indeed Celtic and not purely Anglo-Saxon, then it's possible that I'm related to Esca my line is all inter-related, dating back over two-thousand years. This is merely speculatory, and since lines get mixed so much from generation to generation, it's impossible to really know. We are quite sure that my mother's side is Sephardic Jewish after much research into it, but it's possible at the time of the Inquistion the Jews, fearing suspiscion, interbred with the non-Jewish Galician peoples, bringing in at least a tinge of Celtic blood. All in all -- if I have a drop of Celtic blood in me, which most people probably do, I would be quite satisfied. Galicia and Asturias are both known as unofficial Celtic nations, and I don't believe the Asturian side is Sephardic at all. So there's a very good chance that I have a lot of Celtic blood and ancestry. A lot indeed.

Also, researched Pict/Brigante warrior tattoo methods, and found out that it's fairly unlikely that they tattooed/stained with woad, as woad is difficult to work with, especially in tattooing, and that supposedly there is a lot of evidence supporting the idea that they used copper or iron instead. However, the copper would have contained high levels of arsenic, which would have ended up poisioning them after a length of time. :(

There is something about the first few weeks of the new school year. Sometimes you start slowly, and yet you accomplish so much, more than you thought you could. And maybe it is that, mixed perhaps with the crisping and the deepening of the air around you as you plunge into the later year and into the arm's of autumn, that makes you feel so very alive.

I haven't had too much too blog about, but these two weeks have been going well. My subjects this year are American civics, American government, American history, American literature, Bible, Language Arts, Chemistry, Lab, Algebra II, Economics AP, Phys Ed, Theater, and my independent study of the Welsh language. I'm using Sonlight's Core 400, which is fantastic so far, and I'm excited to get further into it.

About a year ago I heard from a friend of a friend that a production of The Eagle of the Ninth had been announced. My mother had started reading the book to me when I was in sixth grade, but we dropped it because I wasn't being able to grasp the complexities of the Roman military system. I wish we hadn't, because I know I would have a more sentimental connection with the book whenever I see the movie. However, now that I'm reading it at an older age I'm really being able to appreciate the painstaking research Rosemary Sutcliff put into each page. Her descriptions are very concrete and she uses little whimsical feel, and yet I'm able to picture everything clearly, so clearly that there is something magical about it, something that transports me to Marcus's side where I am able to see and feel everything that he can in a strikingly tangible way. It is basically awesome. Also, Jamie Bell is playing Esca. :D I love Jamie, and so far he seems like a perfect choice for Esca. (Even though Channing Tatum looks the opposite of Marcus's physical description, he's shown a lot of heart in his acting and I think that may make up for the lack of canonical physical resemblance.)

I've been throwing around a lot of novel ideas in my head, but they span a great many different time periods, cultures, and research commitments. If I am to deeply research a culture and a time period as faeriemaiden is currently doing then I want it to be one that I want to know more about, not just one that I have to study in order to write a coherent and accurate novel. Um, so, I could either write a historical novel or a sci-fi novel. I'm heavily considering three novels. Two are science fiction. One of those being far in the future and requiring absolutely no historical research, the other being quite possibly of an alternate world based on our own and more futuristic. The second one would have a lot of Celtic influence though, requiring massive Celtic research. The non-science-fiction third novel takes place in the countryside of England in 1906 (?) and references the 1830's-1860's. However, things could be vastly changed since it involves two young characters and people who are recluses, and so a lot of cultural research isn't necessarily required. I don't know; I have ideas for a few plays, some fanfiction, and some other short stories as well. It's hard to figure out what creative projects to work on. :/

I miss Merlin. :(

I'm going to try to blog more, because there's a lot of thoughts I want to record down, but I blog so infrequently I just write great, big summaries of whole weeks, and I end up forgetting all the little anecdotes and thought progressions that make life real instead of just being a cold narrative.
 

Stolen from Lauren. (: This is sad because most of the music I listen to is by a few bands/singers, so some of these I love but don't listen to a ton. :P Also, most of what I listen to is ancient/unsigned and would be pointless because no one knows about them. :P (Also, Ren already posted Abigail Washburn, bahhh.)

1. Image search your top 10 favourite artists.
2. Post the pictures under a cut
3. Get your friends to guess who the artists are
4. Edit the photos with a caption identifying the artist & the friend who guessed their name.

:)

Hi, I apoligize for my abscence. Summer is probably the worst thing in the entire world for me, and besides that I haven't done anything really worth mentioning. I've been mostly exhausted between finishing up my schoolwork and going to church four times a week. I've been rather lethargic and I haven't felt like doing much of anything. Dance classes ended last Tuesday, and I won't have anything at Cast until Word on the Street practice starts in late August.

So, I've gone back to studying the Welsh language and mostly all of Celtic and British history. I've been watching a great deal of Merlin, and caught it last night on tv for the first time (usually at church on Sunday nights and watch it instead on hulu). We ushered yesterday morning (yay!) and next week my father is teaching at our children's church for the first time. Volunteering at church is like being on the world's most stable but harrowing roller coaster, encased in darkness in the dead of night, but all the time you have the ever-present feeling that whoever is sitting next to you on that coaster is not of earth, but only of heaven. Translate that as you'd like; I'm not sure myself anymore.

I know everyone is going off and having adventures but I'm becoming quite a home-body. I wish there was a good movie to go see. I want hot chocolate but there won't be milk in the house until tomorrow. I got the Silmarillion from the library the Friday before last. It's magnificent. It's taking me awhile to get through it because a lot of it is pretty heavy, but I love how meticulous Tolkien is with how he scupts each intricate detail of the races and how they all split out into different ways and did different things.

I've been listening to O Come, O Come Emmanuel the last few nights. I think of all the old Christian songs, especially Christmas carols, it's the one I can feel the most in my spirit. Emmanuel is so beautiful of a name; God with us. Not only with us as Jesus, flesh and blood on the earth two thousand years ago, but the idea of God dwelling in us and around us in this cloud of holiness that wraps around us and goes into every part of us, until no part is void of His glory. I've always loved sad songs, and I've rarely been able to really feel happy ones. Sometimes upbeat songs seem thin, but sad songs have this thickness to them. O Come, O Come Emmanuel is very solemn, but it's so full of hope, and it's so beautiful and peaceful.

So this past week and weekend has been fairly normal, with not much going on. It's funny because I can normally remember exactly what I did on every day of the previous week, but everything has sort of converged. I'm keeping track of my life mostly through Twitter, and it's a lot easier for me to figure out what exactly I was doing on a certain day. I know a lot of famous people died this week. Oh, of course! I completely forgot I went to Sea Loves Me Naut. It was the murder mystery dinner theater production put on by the Alumni and Adult members of Cast. It was really neat to get to attend a dinner theater after having previously performed in one. I saw some of my friends' parents in it who I wasn't expecting to see (Rachel's and Charissa's dads!), and it was a lot of fun. The food was also pretty good, and I knew all the servers (mostly those going into their freshmen year, but some seniors like Lindsay, too). The play was hilarious, and the improv portion at the end when we were able to question the actors was even more funny. I think the best word to describe Cast players is unexpected. :P

So we are now at the end of June, and July will be here tomorrow. On the fourth we're cutting off our sattelite, so I will now be completely dependent on hulu.com. June has been so beautiful. I don't know if I've ever felt quite so alive or at peace. It seems like there is a quiet sort of energy coming out of everything, every object, every idea, every emotion, every word spoken. Nothing has really drained me too terribly; even bad things. It seems like I've come to terms with everything. I was thinking about it yesterday, and you know how they sell the DVDs of sports championships? My life is sort of becoming like that. It's like you haven't actually seen the game (you were on vacation?) but you know the outcome and your team won. You don't know how they won, but while you're watching it, you're not stressing out about them making goals or hitting home runs. You're still fascinated and on your toes about how it's going to happen, but you know it's going to work out. This is very nearly how life is. The war we are fighting has already been won; it's just up to us throw the punches and claim the prize. You don't know how your life will turn out, but in the end, through Christ, you already have the victory. My life is becoming more and more like this. I don't even know how events are going to unfold, but as they do, nothing really surprises me. I was sitting in a waiting room about to have a colonoscopy. No, I don't think that was God's will for me, but I knew that whatever happened, it was going to be okay.

In everything there is a beauty. There is some sort of Godly peace encasing the most horrible of circumstances. There just isn't anything to worry about, just so much to see and to do and to be, and to create. So many things to learn, and so many people to love, to love deeply, the way they deserve to be loved. From June 1st (I think that was when I watched the first ep of Star Trek tos?), through Victoria's party and sleeping under the thick, billowing ivory curtains, to the next day in the trolley with my parents and then to see Star Trek again in the theater. Watching countless Zachary Quinto interviews and clips and pacing around, checking up on my cat. Weeks of dance lessons, jumping about the dance room and trying to fit it all into the great depth of the universe. All the way through to ushering for the first time, to the passing of Little Boy, to now. It has been pretty much preserved through listening to Sleeping at Last's Keep No Score the whole month, starting at the beginning. I don't even know how to put it into words. I wish I could put my mother's birthday into words, or turn my memories into some sort of film, or the feel of the darkness of the movie theater or the brightness of the tiny lights surrounding the street car. It was been beautiful, even the hardest, darkest parts; I don't think I'll ever forget any of it.

I'm completely and totally nostalgic for two weeks ago. It was so much more innocent, and I just felt truly happy and at rest. Everything was full of a calm energy; everything was full of possibility and life. I don't know why this week has been so awful.

Two weeks ago I was pacing through the house with Clocks in my head and I went into my father's spare room and our cat was there, still looking up at me calmly. He deterioated over last weekend with what we think was a extremely progressed form of cancer. My father went on Saturday morning and had him put to sleep. I haven't cried at all, which is rare of me, but I feel at peace now that he's not suffering anymore. Death is something that we all must deal with sometime in our life, and I don't want to be heartless about it because emotions are very important to humanity, but I don't want to get upset because I don't know if I'll be able to get out of it. I'm just getting worn out, and I'm clinging to the promise that God has something better and deeper coming soon. I just don't know. A lot of wrong stuff seems to be happening without much reason for it. I love church, and we've been volunteering a lot, but sometimes it seems strangely empty. I'm trying to plug into something and I'm not getting much current from it. I get it from God, but I guess I'm trying to find some purpose in the actual church work. But the whole thing of working can kind of be like riding a bicycle around in circles. It says nothing against the church itself or the people -- I just think personally I might be being a little oversensitive. I don't really know.

I need a break but I don't know what from.

I wrote a letter to my grandmother. She had her first IV drip of chemo about a week ago for her breast cancer. I haven't written her a letter in years because I talk to her on the phone every week, and I usually don't have too, too much to say, but now she's weaker and it's harder for her to talk, so I'm writing to her instead.

I have been so busy and nearly incapable of stopping and reflecting, much less writing anything down. Last Friday was the third and final sleepover of my three weekend long escapade of Sleeping in Awkward and Often Uncomfortable Positions. Breanne's was her sweet sixteenth. We drove around in a limousine and went to different places for a scavenger hunt, mostly restaurants to pick up pre-ordered take-out. We sang loudly to Taylor Swift and attempted not to spill stuff. Morgan rolled down the windows and tried to get random guys' attentions. It was absolutely hilarious.

It was a funny thing, because while we were riding around I tried to take it all in. I mean, it's not often you ride around in a limousine. And I tried to think about what being a famous actress would be like. If your limo was filled with other celebrities who you could relate to and enjoy the company of, it would be marvellous, but the actual limo itself -- though wonderfully spacious and comfortable -- is kind of just a car. I don't know. I was hoping it would seem more magical or something (we needed Over the Rhine and not Taylor Swift, that is the problem). The most beautiful thing was being able to see outside. We were in the blimey suburbs though. The only logical place to drive around in in a limo is the city, or maybe more towards the coast. But the suburbs are dull. All the same, I really did enjoy it.
 
Also, our driver was amazing. His name was Richard and he had to be in his seventies, and when I thanked him for opening and closing the door, he simply said, "My pleasure!". He also had a rather nice hat. One of the girls asked him if he had ever driven around a celebrity, and he said yes, and his favorite was Dominic Purcell. I didn't recognize the name, but he went on to say he played Lincoln on Prison Break (!!! "The older brother?!"). Yes, I totally used to watch Prison Break. I think my mother and I watched the second season. Mr. Richard told me the show had just finished it's final season (which makes sense since I don't really see how much plot they were going to keep going with, but it was a good show). But yeah, he drove Dominic around because supposedly they filmed two episodes in our city. Anyway, that was.. pretty fantastic. Also, the new outside mall which I hadn't been to previously has a two-story Barnes & Noble. I was very tempted to go up to one of the employees and say, "Do you realise how absolutely blessed you are?!." :P

Kris won. I'm really happy for him. I knew if he won he would be so very surprised, and he was. Adam took it very well, even though I think he, too, was a little surprised (along with all of America who, even though they voted for Kris, had pretty much convinced themselves that Adam was going to win). He honestly really loved and admired Kris though. It was really great watching those two together because you really felt like they admired eachother's strengths and styles. I really, really love them both, but I think Adam was the better singer. Not only that, but his voice is gorgeous and haunting. Listening to his recorded rendition of Mad World is completely heart-breaking. My mother was saying how he almost reminds her of Lucifer. And not in an insulting way. Lucifer had that gift of music, and he was beautiful, but I always felt like Lucifer was beautiful like the darkness, like the night, and maybe that's why he was so drawn to falling away. I don't know. Adam is one of those rare people; he is a jewel. His musical theater talents are just amazing, too. I keep wondering what he would be like if he got ahold of the truth. And Kris is fantastic too. A friend of mine's mother posted a video on Facebook of him leading worship at his church with the song "God of this City" by Chris Tomlin, and he was really good. He looked a lot more comfortable. I can't help thinking maybe he should be home playing. I mean, I'm so glad we have a worship leader American Idol, but... I can't shake the feeling of how wonderful it would be if he was home. I'm going to miss watching those two. I always connect with the idol contestants. But alas, I will probably miss all of next year due to church, but I know that that's where I should be. Anyway, this year was a really good one for idol. :)

If you haven't watched any of American Idol, you should check out Adam's Mad World. It's beautiful. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bXGBWQdHsyQ

Also, STAR TREK. IT WAS. AWESOME. No really, it was one of the best movies I've ever seen. I really want to become a trekkie now and watch all of the original series. It was hard going and seeing it though. My dad has been searching hard for a deeper relationship with God, and he's decided to fast all media indefinitely. This is really hard, because my dad was always the one who got me to watch movies, and we always spent a lot of time discussing different plot techniques, and lately he had been looking for specific, interesting shots in movies to show me because he knows I'm really interested in cinematography. My dad is a life-long trekkie. He used to beg me to watch OTS episodes when I was young, and me and him had watched nearly every single episode of Voyager last year when it came on Spike every day from four to six. That's two hours nearly every day. I didn't really watch it all with him, but I watched so much. And so I felt kind of bad about going without him. But, it was so fantastic, and I'm glad I did, and I hope he'll eventually feel released to take part in media again. But I think over this summer I might get into the original series. Also, Chris Pine is forgiven for whatever he did in the second Princess Diaries movie. He can act. I was expecting to really like Zachary Quinto's acting, but ended up liking Pine a bit more. I think the writers developed Jim a lot more than Spock, too, so Jim seemed a lot more real. I didn't research the movie at all before going and seeing it (which.. is weird. I usually know everything about a movie at least two months before it comes out. I wasn't planning on seeing ST until everybody said it was the greatest movie ever of the year), so, you know, I'm sitting there and, IS THAT KARL URBAN? YES. WAIT, MOM, ISN'T THAT EOMER? NO.. wait. YES IT IS. OMG BONES IS KARL URBAN OMG (and he looks younger now than ten years ago). And Winona Ryder is Spock's momma, even though she's... six years older than Quinto. Also, DID NOT RECOGNIZE ERIC BANA! Even though I had heard he was going to be in it. I completely forgot and I didn't recognize him and only found out during the credits. Also, THAT WAS SIMON PEGG I KNEW IT BUT NOT REALLY HE WAS SO AWESOME. Also, Sulu was so awesome with his fencing skills and I kind of wish Jim had said after the fight something about, you know, "Fencing, eh?" because it was awesome. Anyway, it was really good and I wasn't really expecting it to be that good. The writing was so very tight! I really recommend it.