Now Where Are My Shoes?

Everybody go “Awww…”

I got up this morning, went to the computers in the school’s library and checked my email, and there were two lovely comments all ready and waiting for me. This was a great mood lifter after having a time on the bus that could have easily turned utterly miserable. I’m still just barely sick in the mornings, and my nose was giving me hell, with no tissues across from Mr. Emo. Who, luckily, had his fringe so far down over his eyes you wondered how he ever sees where he’s going. But I grabbed some tissues just in time to register the surprise; I wasn’t expecting any comments so soon (and seeing as I have MySpace I will send notifications of new blogs, if you so wish, in order to abate the information overload).

Today is Monday and my singing lessons day. I just felt so warm and fuzzy that I though I would start blogging immediately.

There may have only been two blogs but the many subcategories ensure there is much to discuss.

Firstly astrology. I do have a full astrology wheel that was made up at a proper psychic exhibition which has all the aspects and houses, but it would allow someone to know where I was born (which I still live very close to) and exactly when. And although I trust both of you, it is the internet. And I apologise.

Leos. You’re both Leos? That figures. The girl who I wrote that poem about was a Leo. I gravitate very heavily towards Leo women. She wasn’t a Leo in the classical respect either. Creative as hell, perceptive yes, but not organised or loud. And she was shy too. Didn’t make sense to either of us. But she had that Leo fire, the aggression and passion, and the moments she used that positively were alive with the best and most profound conclusions. But there were some dark times also…

Speaking of that, or rather clarifying that my screaming was not a dark time…

I saw, and I knew when I posted this, that it could be taken two very contrasting ways. I considered not mentioning it at all, for various reasons, but it was not the personal nature of it that made me wary. I can see how it could be seen as in indication of my standard mental state, typifying me as a feeling bottler who needed to let off steam, evidenced by both the event and the corresponding blog. And if you will permit me to mention this Musings, I read one of your most recent blogs where you said that writing a song or poem did not help expel the feeling for you, but it was more like “rubbing salt into the wound.” Writing is not like that at all for me. Songs and blogs help me not only dispel the feeling, but deal with it more wholly. The scream thing was strange, maybe a little freaky – but certainly not normal for me. I am not a feeling bottler, and that was not the resulting explosion. I curse myself more for telling way too much rather than not enough. It is hard to stop myself from sharing even the strangest things, things which many people in the same situation would not share. I just really, really enjoy it, and this is what forms part of my musical and communicational aspirations. The fact that I had a bit of an outburst came as no surprise, I had been loathing the whole event all morning, and telling my mother this at great length. And after my episode we talked about the matter further, all the way there. The screaming thing just… happened. It needed to happen and it was good. It’s all cathartic for me. I do have other outlets, when I need them.

I appreciate how lucky I am to have this. To have found and understood this so early on in life, if indeed I have.

Which gets back to the Zen-ness of the situation, neatly sidestepping the once pivotal matter of our ages. I have pleasantly forgotten all about age. And it is not something likely to bother me again in this context, hopefully for a long, long time. I’m home now, in all ways but the literal physical sense. I feel sorted, really I do.

But I have lessons today, and you will be here to see that calm façade disappear. In retelling how I ended my last blog I remembered how I had said that I was ‘going somewhere’ and ‘doing something’. All this time that I have had these lessons I have bitched about the various aspects of them, never stopping to appreciate the fact that I have a good singing teacher and I am going somewhere vaguely in the direction of my dreams. What could be more inspiring? What happened to the moments of utter helplessness because I had nothing? I must feel grateful for what I do have. This is the old “I felt sorry for the man without shoes, till I saw the man with no feet” scenario. So what if I have no shoes, at least I have feet.

Really that fits so much better than you think. Feet represent any voice at all, which I thought I didn’t have – hence thinking I was helpless back when I had no teacher, she helped me find my feet (geddit?) so now I will be able to make my way, walking slowly, with my newfound feet, towards my goal. It may not be a very comfortable journey (no shoes, you see) because I have an unpolished voice, but one day along the track, as long as I keep walking, I shall be provided with some shoes, then I will make the last of the journey in leaps and bounds.

My other musical attitudes are very Amanda indeed. It wasn’t something I really noticed until it was pointed out. I like the coincidence, but I am pleased to report that I have stopped trying desperately to connect like I used to. I still feel the connection, but I am content to feel it, rather than grab hold and mess things up.

I’m just killing time here. Mr. Emo got a mention today, so I feel a word on Mr. Crushing is in order. Did I ever tell you how moody he is? One minute he is barking at me that he’s not deaf because I told him twice that I’d sent him an email (he didn’t seem to be listening and definitely didn’t care) and the next minute he’s wolf-whistling at me in the corridors, making me blush and giggle like the little school girl I can sometimes be. My life is a soap opera I tell you.

And on an almost completely unrelated note, there is this couple at my school that I have been waiting to bitch about. Not bitch, just share the unpleasant experience and ask whether it is genuinely annoying or just the result of my Grinch-sized heart. Right, these two, been together for a while, share this locker next to mine. That’s right, these two people share a space the size of and A3 piece of paper about as deep as it is wide. It was originally hers but then as they got chummier he moved all his shit in there. Both bags, both sets of books, her make up, his deodorant – all of it. I’m fine with that, it’s their life, and this is obviously the manifestation of thwarted attempts to move in together… but they take up so much room next to my locker, fawning over each other, bitching and hitting and making up over the breakfast that they buy every morning at the corner shop so they can sit and eat it before school (sweet in some respects, irritating in others). He’s always leaning all over my locker with his big sweaty armpits, trying to look all impressive casual and male whilst gazing deep into her eyes. She’s always standing in front of my locker on her toes with her hands all over him. Then at lunch they sit near me and make out and slap one another and giggle and fight and apologise and hide and yell and shriek and sit on one another. They walk arm in arm all the time, they talk to each other and only one another, constantly. He’s a thug and she’s a plastic, they think their romance is so epic (sounds like a good lyric actually) not that I would ever pay homage to their existence with a song. Glrgh! They are everywhere. And for some reason I just can’t take it anymore. I feel better now though.

Did you know that with the addition of this post, this blog is now officially over 50 000 words long?

The next voice that you hear will be that of a girl who has just had a singing lesson…

OK, well maybe not. Get this for irony – she wasn’t here today. She has the flu. That’s right just when I’m looking forward to my lesson, she’s sick. But I was allowed to use the practice room to fool around with the piano and sing. I can play my own scales and stuff, which was nice for a change. I tried to compose something for my new song, I got a first and second line, wasn’t inspired, and I couldn’t record anything since my mp3 player was flat. I got bored and composed this nifty little dance tune out of the sharps and flats. It was really good in the end, pity I couldn’t take it home. If I get another chance, I am definitely, without hesitation, posting it here. After the next weekend I will be able to post a definitive choice (and possibly a track) of me singing as well.

At least I can still tell my teacher what I’m up to and all of the stuff I have been practising, via email. Oh, I just had the best idea, I should send her an email that explains all the lengthy shit that I didn’t want to pay to tell, all the stuff that I have been crapping on about here. I’m better in writing anyway. Awesome. It’s perfect, the information can simply be, no unnecessary emotion, no dispute… But I’ll see if there is a need for it first. See if she notices any change in light of my recent life lessons. Because I still have no idea what to write.

☆Anika☆