Friday, December 28, 2007

Updated Mayhem

Yes, indeed.

Back to Ireland, I.

I return on the tenth.

Delicious.

Sunday, December 23, 2007

After All That

Short post. Ready? Go.

Tomorrow we pick up Dipotso and Mahau from the Lansing Airport. It's tight; I haven't seen them in...five years? Damn. I bet a lot has changed. Things in Africa went wrong when Dipotso went back to Botswana from MSU, and now she's going to school in Texas for her PhD. Yeah. She's tight.

And after all that jazz, I might be boarding a plane myself. Back to Ireland, I.

Perhaps.

Delicious.




[Merry Christmas.]

Saturday, December 08, 2007

My Schpiel on The Golden Compass

The Golden Compass is one of the best movies of the year, in my opinion. With an all-star cast including Nicole Kidman (Marisa Coulter), Eva Green (Serafina Pekkala), Daniel Craig (Lord Asriel), Ian McKellen (Iorek Byrnison), Sam Elliot (Lee Scoresby), and a phenomenal performance by child-actress Dakota Blue Richards (Lyra Belacqua), this movie is complete, total entertainment. There is never a dull line in the entire movie, and the computer graphics are stunning. Not to mention the score...which was quite impressive as well.

So why the big fuss?

The movie (and it's obvious two sequels) is based on a trilogy by a professed Atheist who said, point-blank, that "these books are about killing God". Evidently, this pissed the Christians off quite well because most of the people I've encountered prior to seeing the movie said things like: "No! That nasty movie?" or "Boycott it!" or "It's about killing GOD!"

Ahem.

What these people are worked up about is this: If people take their kids to see the movie, they'll get hooked on the first one (very true) and their kids would want to buy the books (maybe true) and then kids will ultimately grow up to want to kill god (not so true).

My opinion?

For oneself: If one has a strong faith rooted deeply in a certain thing, then a movie will not ever change that.

For one's children: If one brings the kids to the movie, they buy the books and the movies when they come out, and become obsessed, fine. I have a difficult time believing that children will rally together to "kill god" because of a trilogy. If one's children are raised properly or in a certain way, it is not likely for the children to depart from that teaching. Even if they do, the children are going to make their own decisions anyway, and The Golden Compass (and the other two) is far from the worst influence in the world.

Three very prominent things that I wish to point out are these: Free Will, Daemons and Demons, and the picture of "killing God".

FREE WILL:
First, the author/director makes it very clear in the first movie that one cannot have free will if one lives under a religion. Hmm. I just rolled my eyes at this and smiled a bit. Why? This is why.

To the Christians: Biblically, you have free will. You have freedom of choices and make them as you do. So does everybody else.

To the Atheists: The same argument, only you love to do as you please anyway. What's going to change that? Nothing. The author sounds as if he's just afraid of being told what to do. Strong-willed, iron-fisted, and stubborn; that's all. He still has free will and would continue to have it were he religious.

So quiet down, everybody.

DAEMONS AND DEMONS:
The movie exists in a parallel universe where a person's soul lives outside his/her body in the form of an animal friend, or 'daemon'. This is the only thing that I feel is truly backwards about the first movie.

Daemons are pictures of 'demons' that paint them to be a best friend, a soul, and one that a child or adult cannot live without because of the phenomenon of 'dust'. In our world, however, people realize that demons are not souls of people except in the case of possession and they are not present to relay feelings of friendship. They are, by definition, evil spirits.

Now, the author's interpretation of demons/daemons has little potential to hurt anybody, only perhaps give slight confusion. However, for those of us who can sense demonic oppression, it may seem a trifle more dangerous to confuse them with something friendly.

THE PICTURE OF "KILLING GOD":
I'll make this brief. In the third book, the author sets his two main characters out to kill a weak, powerless, incapable 'god'. My opinion? Let them kill him! That's not who God is. It can't be, because I see God move and I feel demons moving and the real world is way more twisted than the author's parallel universe.


Take some advice: buy a ticket and see the movie. It's truly phenomenal, inventive, and superlative to many movies. It does not shove Atheism down throats as well as The Chronicles of Narnia did not shove Christianity down throats. The Golden Compass will not tear down the walls of religion or convert avid Christians into fanatic Atheists, nor will it destroy faith-potential of the entire population of the world's children.

Take a deep breath, watch the story unfold, and just enjoy it. Besides, it's a great conversation-starter.

Delicious.

Wednesday, December 05, 2007

FortyEightHourDays

Tell.me.something.good.











[I.bombed.the.SATII.more.than.I.have.bombed.anything.in.my.life..

I.wonder.if.it.matters.]













---I.thought.of.that.man.from.Ireland.today.and.I.miss.him.so.much..


He.was.an.angel.---








{Boston.University.can.feel.free.to.shove.it..


So.can.Berkeley.if.worse.comes.to.worst.}














&I.still.love.theatre.rehearsal..even.if.it.is.for.Fame.&




















...as usual, this jumbled mess has nothing to do with the word "profound"...





but it is my diversion from a world where





I





am





monstrous.














...or just remembering





...or bitter





...or daydreaming





...or insane











Either way,

I'm doomed kids.




Delicious.

Sunday, December 02, 2007

Against Who?

I haven't much to say today, only this: the Bible is the craziest book I've ever read.

I am under the obligation to believe everything it says, and I do, but that's not the point. It's the interpretation that throws me.

For my entire life I focused on the "was and is" part of the book, because it was, and it is applicable to the present. However, the "is to come" part I never gave much thought to, until now.

This is because, not only does it foreshadow a drastic turning point for the Jewish faith and the middle east, but I have a very dear friend who could end up walking into a country raging with a deadly, global-scale war that she does not know about and has no business fighting.

Perhaps it's simple paranoia derived from loving my friend, and such a war may not even occur in our lifetime because its results may parallel endtimes. However, who am I to predict or interpret? I haven't any knowledge outside of what I read today and what we speculated from it, and coincidences may just be coincidenes. The facts are already coinciding, but we shall wait, read, and pray, I suppose.

Ezekiel 38+39

Delicious.

Saturday, November 24, 2007

Oxidation

This is funny in every way.

Funny ha-ha and funny weird.

However, Becca enjoys floating in a world of ignorance, because she was told how much ignorance is bliss. Bliss isn't life, but bliss is what she subconsciously clings to as steadfastly as geese flying south-only she's not sure of her destination.

Maybe destination hasn't anything to do with it, but she thinks it has everything to do with it.

Especially since her Celtic Knot is inching closer and closer to her neck each day; she is flirting with strangulation ever so dangerously. If she were a horse and Ireland a carrot, well, she'd be chasing the carrot, if that makes any sense. She's so desperately and helplessly in love with that country, and now the hope of going back is so thick and hot that she can't help but dissolve into it and live in her dream world for just a moment. Oh, for December the 26th to bring back those emerald fields and that icy-blue sky--those fluffy clouds and Irish eyes smiling. For her to see the freckles dance upon the noses of her Irish family...well. How theatrical. She will just have wait and see what miracles await her--she's certainly seen many.

However, Becca can't hardly handle those who call her family in America. This entire ordeal, brought on by those she had wondered about her whole life, is now left in her hands. Becca's entire future with these people depends on what she wishes to do, but really. After Charlie Brown closed, there wasn't much of an opportunity to see them. What to do now? Invite them to Fame? She thinks not. The spring play? Not sure they'd approve of little Lauren seeing that one, from what she heard.

Oh well. Time will tell, time heals, give her time.

For now, she'll cling to whatever she sees that is genuine.

Even as she walks through her dimly-lit home clad in holiday decor, the "Screw this, we're going to Jerusalem (or, respectively, Ireland)" attitude fades a bit. She's not sure why. Perhaps the cynic in her is shutting up, for once. How absolutely lovely!

Delicious.

Tuesday, November 20, 2007

Twisted Color Scheme

I'm coming to some realizations that are not important by any means.

  1. I am so thankful.
  2. People wear facades made of stainless steel.
  3. Hope and possibility are dangling in my face and it's driving me nuts.
  4. E-Town is back in town!..and others.
  5. I Am My Own Wife is a fantastic piece of theatre.
  6. I shall attempt to allow myself to enjoy certain elements of a guilt-free existence.
  7. Things trigger things.
  8. I am a relatively awful daughter.
  9. The need to leave is tugging on my heart, but those who will be left behind are tugging as well.
  10. I am happy today, and I'm not particularly sure why.

Delicious.

Wednesday, November 14, 2007

God Help You If

I've lived seventeen years of dancing to the beat of my own drum, and for what? To be able to watch my friends follow along and fall behind where I've followed along and fallen behind. Perhaps I'm giving myself too much credit, but as I look back on the years of maturing and pruning, I can't help but wonder if I've grown up a bit faster.

My trouble-making only extended from 13-15, respectively. At least, my trouble-making on a large enough scale. I've never been very much into the things that most people think teens are obsessed with, but I have my shortcomings and I have my downfalls. These things were most prominently and, I believe, most severely displayed over the course of years 13, 14, and 15. However, despite the tactics of a few of my peers, I never found it necessary to make my problems so...public.

Yes, I did confide in a number of people, mostly the wrong sorts of people. I never wanted, though, to make my life experiences seem like regular high school drama, because they never seemed like it and still don't seem like it to this day. Theatrical at times, yes, but never drama. I've never taken comfort in creating relationships, breaking those relationships, then crying over my circle of friends while shoveling ice cream in my face screaming a refrain such as "Everybody hates me" or "My life sucks because he doesn't love me". This phase, encountered by some, I have skipped over.

Who am I, though, to presume that my baggage is any heavier than anybody else's? It's ignorant to think like that. It's ignorant of my peers and it knocks them down while elevating me higher in my own mind. Perhaps I think this way because I am so consumed with what I have locked away or preserved for a precious few that I completely ignore the conscious minds of my peers. I completely disregard the fact that a lack of understanding does not constitute a lack of pain, on my part and theirs. The "loop" that I so often shrug off is proving to be bigger that I have ever imagined.

I am said to be an individual who highly regards her peers, who regards them even above herself. However, with the sort of thinking and misunderstanding that I display, how can I be selfless? How can I relate? How can I even be human? Can I?


**



I re-united with an old friend today under the pretext of a murder in her hometown. I wish I would've just called her for no reason instead of waiting for one.



Delicious.

Saturday, November 10, 2007

Rehearsal Tights

I think it's been an interesting Opening Week.

ACT I-Monday

SCENE ONE: Becca enters SR running at 100 mph towards Amy. She jumps for Amy, misses, and smacks her knee on the corner of a desk.

Becca: Wow, I just smacked the crap out of my knee cap. That really does blow, but oh well. (Exit DR)

END SCENE

SCENE TWO: Becca enters SR into English class. She is happy for a full ten minutes. Suddenly, she feels dizzy, which is normal when she hits her knees. However, this time, she broke out in a cold sweat and blacked out.

Jeanie: Becca...?

Becca lays on the floor, Jenny leaves to get ice.

END SCENE

SCENE THREE: Rehearsal. Becca enters SR (again) with a huge bee-hive ice pack stuck to her knee with a plethora of masking tape. Rehearsal continues as normal for the rest of the week.

END SCENE


ACT II-The Teasers

SCENE ONE: Cast enters St Mary's K-8 School. Becca accidentally almost runs into the men's room. Cast changes into costumes almost directly in front of the Catholic priest. St. Mary's children file in and laugh uproariously at everything. End of teaser, kids ask questions.

JB: Okay, who has a question for the cast?

Tommy raises hand.

JB: You, sir? What's your name?

Tommy: T...Tommy?

JB: Hi, Tommy, what's your question?

Tommy: Umm....That was....cool!

Tommy hides behind his teacher. Cast wants to take him home.

END SCENE

SCENE TWO: Cast enters the Cappuccino Expresso. Abbey and Emily are UC. Cast sits in a pod around a single table and sings show tunes as loud as humanly possible. Cast exits DC. Cast gallivants around town distributing flyers for Friday's show.

END SCENE

SCENE THREE: Cast anxiously awaits the Middle School teaser, which goes incredibly well, all things considered. Later, cast anxiously awaits the High School teaser, which goes well too.

END SCENE

SCENE FOUR: Cast enters the Elementary School and plays "four square" with seven people. Elementary kids thoroughly enjoy the show. Cast is incredibly high-energy because of the laughter response. Bryan is asked by one of the kids if he likes chicken nuggets.

END SCENE

ACT III- Performing

SCENE ONE: OPENING NIGHT! Cast enters the house. A few minor things, but none that they could not handle. Crowd response is spectacular. Show is successful.

END SCENE

SCENE TWO: The Pizza Hut tradition gets twisted. Cast re-locates to Old Chicago because of a lack of dough. Cast, Pit, and Crew accidentally run into JB at Old Chicago, but no catastrophe occurs.

END SCENE

SCENE THREE: Cast continues performing until Sunday evening. :)

END


Delicious.

Sunday, October 28, 2007

Have Confidence

Currently, I am gazing at a waning-gibbous hunter's moon that is rising and setting on an absolutely lovely weekend. Whatever potential this weekend had, it has met that potential and more.

And there was so much potential to fall apart.

I am constantly thanking people in here. It really gets old after a while, so I won't do it this time even though I am overflowing with gratitude. I realize that "nothing gold can stay", but I think that something gold can be cherished.

Whether your gold is so simple as carving a pumpkin...

...or so satisfying as successfully starting a plot for a comedic piece of theatre...

...or so brilliant as to recieve a wake-up Saturday-morning phone call from your Ireland mum in Galway...

...or so strange as window-shopping and gardening...

...or so comforting as a genuine realism for the first time in a long time.

It is gold.

Delicious.

Monday, October 22, 2007

Tan Lines in October

"Ridiculous."
"Shocking."
"Devestation."
"It makes me want to cry."
"It's so sad."
"This will make people respect what they have a little bit more."
"Tradgedy."

This is just a bit of what Williamston citizens have to say about Thursday's tornado.

I am sick of hearing stories about Rutgers, murders and kidnappings. How about a story about a community who knows how to come together in a time of devestation? I'm proud to live here.


Thursday October 18, 2007
7:30 PM-First siren sounds
7:45 to 7:55 PM- Theatre kids, swimming kids, soccer kids sit in the swimming hall
7:57 PM- Bragle lets us go, we get home.
8:27 PM- Confirmation that every theatre kid is home safe arrives.
9:00 to 10:00 PM-Second siren sounds, I eat dinner, read Gone With the Wind, watch spectacular lightning show outside
10:30 PM- Lightning strikes sporadically like a strobe light, power cuts, first train-sized wind blows through

Friday October 19, 2007
12:30 AM- Third siren sounds, I watch magnesium flare-bright lightning knowing something is horrendously wrong in the sky, rain absolutely pounds everything, second train-sized wind blows through
2:00 AM- Williamston has been declared in a 'state of emergency', I light candles wanting badly to do something about it
9:30 AM- I wake up, walk to soccer field and school. Everything is flattened save the school; trees gone, soccer bleachers across the street in someone's lawn, concession stand a pile of rubble, American Red Cross parked outside
10:00 AM- I find Allison and walk down Meadowdale where it is the worst, see destroyed trees, lack of roofs and garages, people crawling the streets, people delivering coffee and encouragement
10:20 AM- Allison and I walk down Mitchell, we notice homes with no roofs and nothing left.
10:45 AM- I pass McCormick park and notice that it looks like hell and death as every hundred-year-old tree has split and died.
10:50 AM- I survey Jackson street, the Community Center, and our new football field.
11:00 AM- I join a team to clean Jackson Street, Williamston is blockaded by every police officer in the Lansing area.
12:00 PM- Family leaves for Lansing and DeWitt for food and power, every contractor in the Lansing area arrives.
5:45 PM- Marching band leaves to perform at a different football game with a sense of frivolity that I did not agree with, yet wished to make the best of it.
10:00 PM- Town curfew

Saturday October 20, 2007
11:00 AM- I go to Alaina's to straighten my hair--still no power.
2:00 PM- Erika's baby shower
5:00 PM- I go to Grandma's to live with power
9:00 PM- Power comes back on at our house

Sunday October 21, 2007
8:00 AM- Power leaves again
1:00 PM- Theatre kids meet to work on Mitchell, Riverside, and McCormick Park; move logs, trees, rake
2:00 PM-Power comes back on again
7:30 PM- Amy and I enjoy a bit of 'normalcy' and go out shopping

Monday October 22, 2007
12:00 PM- Amy and I go back to McCormick Park; completely own more trees
1:00 PM- Felpausch graciously donates a pack of water to our team
2:00 PM- Mr Richardson thanks us for the water by providing lunch
3:00 PM- Amy and I chill out with dignity and scratches to boot.




Williamston: United in Devestation...


...and in Peace.

Delicious.

Sunday, October 14, 2007

Mend and Mind

It has been a couple weeks and I've forgotten where I left off, so I guess I'll start new. I'll be brief.

It's quite freeing to realize that I'm actually allowed to live; I am through with putting useless limits on myself. The silence has been broken, but not exploited. All because somebody loves c.o.n.n.e.c.t.i.o.n. and c.o.m.m.u.n.i.t.y.

What a concept.

03:00:26.

Delicious.

Thursday, October 04, 2007

Take These

After returning home from Grand Ledge yesterday, and realizing that it was the last time I will ever be required to do such a thing again, I'm exhausted. Really, though, it was pleasant. Marching band never was, is not, and never will by my forte; however, I still have a few more games to go.

Anyway...

Still tired but I should be doing something other than writing here. I should be reading Exodus, finishing up my MSU application, or studying for the second half of the Calculus test that I just stared at today. Literally....just stared at it. Then, proceeded to work slowly and incorrectly through limit problems that should've taken about 15 seconds. I put an asterisk on the top and announced already that I'll be retaking it.

Oh my...and all I could think about was "Goodbye, oh chances of being admitted to Boston University..." but this is all terribly melodramatic. :)

...and my head is beautifully, tragically, soothingly, uproariously spinning.

Delicious.

Monday, October 01, 2007

That Inevitable Tribute

So. Once again, two precious, precious lives have been taken from us.

As usual, I didn't know them well.

But I was there...I saw Josh when...I was at Barakel when we all heard the news about David.

As Madeline said it: "I was good until now."

It was news that nobody wants to hear, but we thought it would be the extent of bad news for the Shrauger family.

I caught a glimpse of Josh and a glimpse was all I got. Here's to Goodbye...tomorrow's gonna come too soon.

So...what do we do now? We're casting cares, laying burdens, asking why...realizing that, indeed, in the words of Deathcab for Cutie: "It came to me then, that every plan is a tiny prayer to Father Time".

Senses of community are never so alive as they are after a death. Again, I ask, why? Because that's the way it works. Take it or leave it, that's the way it goes.

Life will eventually go on, but it won't be the same.

So here's to Josh and Timothy Shrauger: we will see you again.

Saturday, September 29, 2007

Entirely Audible Sigh

Some days are the kinds of days that one just wants to remember forever. Such days are usually filled with bubble baths, jazz, seeing Venus, the vegetable game, apple pie, and not worrying about the assignments due shortly.

Some days are the kinds of days that one just wants to forget. Such days are usually filled with stuffy noses, uncomfortably hot water, getting stung by a bee, not being able to stop thinking, not being able to taste the pie, and knowing that those assignments are lurking behind just waiting to nip where it counts.

Since today was a mixture of the two extremes, I'd say they kind of cancel each other out and my day was, well, a 'day'. I can handle 'days' in my life, oh I love 'days'. They're just so replete with smiling eyes and so devoid of actual meaning, but it's okay for just once. For just once, I can live a meaningless existence because, you know what? Not mattering doesn't really matter...at least not for now. For now, I'll be content with doing the things I'm expected to do, laughing until my stomach explodes, and making something out of...nothing.

I guess it all depends on what I want in that instantaneous moment. Well...living for the moment is pretty unpredictable, and that is just precisely what I am.

Delicious.

Wednesday, September 19, 2007

At My Back

I think I can relate to my character in Charlie Brown already when she says: "I was jumping rope and everything was okay...but then it all just seemed so futile."

...and I just realized how old my father looks. For a man of 55, really, these years of hardship have put some age on him.

I recieved a blessing of overflowing joy today. More than one, actually, but this one was really big. I can almost let out a sigh after this one, thank you Lord.

However, it seems so insignificant to your ears, or respectively, eyes. This blessing is only 'big' when it is taken out of the context of the things traveling through my brain at a thousand miles a minute. These are things I never thought I'd think, to be honest. Complete futility, complete disappointment, complete lack of meaning-that's about it. But since I do not relay my sorrow to human beings, it would seem odd to relay my joy as well, because they somehow cancel eachother out. Joy after sorrow is the all-American rehabilitation story that everybody loves. Joy by itself is overrated.

But it couldn't have come on a better day.

Delicious.

Monday, September 17, 2007

Never Fully Dressed

Oh, Lordy, how I love Frank Sinatra. He is the only person I'm truly giddy over, which is really unfortunate since he's been dead for 9 years. Also, he was probably a jerk in real life. He displayed his douche-baggery by divorcing all four of his wives using highly insensitive methods, but the negativities aside, he is the man.

Nice work if you can get it, and you can get it if you try...

Mmmm. Frank.

Moving on...

I've spent this weekend "applying" to college...which is proving to be highly un-stressful. Once I got over the fact I won't be going to Swarthmore any time soon, it was really rather easy. I really should've expected that, I mean, come on. Life is nothing but small frustrations and disappointments, except on Audition Week.

Audition Week was last week, and I say that because all I really did was audition and perform. Monday and Tuesday were the audition workshop days for You're A Good Man, Charlie Brown. Wednesday was auditions, Thursday was callbacks, and Friday was cast list plus my french horn audition for band.

Of course, it went well. How could it not? I don't think I did my best, but nevertheless, I was still cast in the production. It's nice work if you can get it, and I got it because I tried.

Delicious.

Saturday, September 08, 2007

Forward Motion

"To experience

the b i t t e r s w e e t . . .

to taste defeat

then brush my teeth."



I think I'll just waltz around like I own the world with a huge smile plastered on my face. That's a mighty good trick, isn't it?



"Oh, life is grand,

it's very interesting.

I think I understand..."


But I don't understand.


The only thing I know how to do very well at the moment is rather mundanely trudge to AP English to 'discuss' books I 'read'. Then I drag my lazy arse into Spanish II to mingle with the freshmen and sophomores in that lovely class. Then, like a complete mastermind, I gallivant off to AP Calculus to experience the teachings of the wise Mrs. Nelson. Then, of course, I pretend like I'm eating lunch when in reality, whatver I bring is a sad excuse for breakfast at 11AM. After that, I skip merrily to the parking lot to be eclipsed by the shadow of Ms. Kelsey's wings. After arriving late to Psychology, I sit at a desk and pretend to learn about neurons by relating them to my hand and a beer keg. And still no sign of Finnius. Finally, I splurge and allow myself to spend vast amounts of time typing away the answers to my virtual Astronomy homework. Depending upon the day, I shall then make my way to either the parking lot again or the hallowed halls of the choir room. Either way, I'm musically indulged.

Perhaps routine is how I thrive and die at the same time.

Perhaps a lot of things.

Still no sign of theatre, either. Oh, life is sad, but it is very interesting.

Delicious.

Wednesday, August 29, 2007

Peeling Summer Skin

I am home from Charlevoix for the remainder of the year and I have indeed been toasted. These tan lines should last at least a few weeks, if not more. School begins in T-minus seven days, and my stress level has raised to 8 as I scramble to "finish" AP English assignments and "search" for colleges that I will later "apply" to. Also, I should probably pick a day and time to have a "sectional" weekly, then figure out when I have to stay after school to "work" on the "next play", and maybe get a "job" so I can pay for certain "necessities" that normal kids my age are just "given".

Enough quotations? Oh, hell no.

All in all, though, this is all coming from my bitterness. However, I intend to find joy this year. Might try new things. Already have a plan for Music Composition. Already love my AP Calc teacher. Already enjoy the company of my AP English teacher. Already look forward to theatre with Bragle. Already planning to whiz through Astronomy. Already planning to be bored in Spanish II. Already. I, quite honestly, am even looking forward to the two zero hour classes I have lined up. 7AM, here I come. Bring it on.

I do hope that I can cram everything into my schedule without cramming my sanity onto the back burner. Speaking of sanity, Sump the Crab died today. Not sure how that's related, but somehow I'm sure it is. Well, at least we still have the nice one, Pump. Amy and I plan on venturing to Meijer to perhaps purchase another playmate for Pump. Hmm...what rhymes with Pump? Lump, Bump, Stump, Hump, Gump, Mump, Rump...we'll see.

Oh, goodness. Oh, how the little things pile into mountains. Oh, how little it all matters in the long run. Oh, what a waste of time.

I can waste my time doing whatever I please, thankyouverymuch. Already have (mostly) the Intro and the first movement (Athenry) in my newest piece as a tribute to Ireland. Just the piano part, but maybe I will be able to arrange it for the whole band and you all can play it with me. You can bet on it being incredibly easy because it would be for embellishing the piano, but if I write it for you, I have you in mind, and I want you to enjoy it. So thank you, my band family, I really do love you.


Delicious.

Monday, August 20, 2007

BS For AP

Oh...Becca, Becca, Becca. You really do catch me off guard. It's amazing to me how you can stoop to such a level of stupidity and still keep your reputation semi-reasonable. Amazing.

This is just me laughing at myself. Attempting to live without a single care or worry has certainly been careful and worrysome. I'll bet you anything I'm just bored.

Haven't been a good girl. Only because I am born, raised, and branded guilty.

So part of me just wants to say "screw it" and party. I could use a big dance party with colors and strobe lights and sweaty, crazy dancing people in black leather. I could use a rock-out session.

The other part of me wants to go back to where I know I am worthwhile. I was used in the best possible way. I was free. I was feeling the shaking earthquake of revival. I was having the time of my life.

Stepping back home, I am a teenaged girl. Flat broke, crazy busy or else crazy lazy, broken world-view. Always finding something to do, never doing anything meaningful. Not exactly frugal, not exactly wasteful. Not exactly useful, not exactly useless. Living in the land of Not Exactly is boring.

Not the same, yet somehow the same, old, mundane, ho-hum, whatever. Ecclesiastes life. Learning to change it is learning how to live. I don't live when I'm like this, running on two hours' sleep nonetheless, I don't live. I want two things in this life: to be left alone, and to live.

So I'm fixing the latter. Some may say that living is jumping at every whim. I've been doing that, and I don't feel any more alive. I was most alive when I was most in danger. I was most alive when I was afraid for rational reasons. I was most alive when I was completely sold out and abandoned for...good.

Hard to make ends meet, but I am determined to live. After all, in the words of Ani DiFranco, 'self-preservation is a full-time occupation'.

Delicious.

Saturday, August 18, 2007

Ayudeme.

I keep telling myself not to complain. That I live in America and here in America we have a little thing called unexplainable wealth. That America is the land of the free and the home of the brave. That America is a place worth living in.

But I can't believe any of those things anymore. Jenny G made it impossible to believe that we've got unexplainable wealth. Case in point: Single State Recession. I don't feel free here, and I certainly don't feel brave. It's not worth living here if there is no justice, no freedom, no bravery, no glory, no nothing.

Dear President Bush: I am disappointed. You have disappointed me. You have confused me. I am sorry.

Dear Jenny G: I am angry. You have angered me. You have betrayed me. I am not sorry.

I have to wonder, though, how much of this is the fault of these two lovely politicians. So much here is swept under the rug and hidden. So many lies are told to us. I just can't believe anything that anybody in power says anymore.



One would think that people would get their facts straight before jumping down tax payers' throats and making accusations. One would think.

I look at myself and I have so much, but what I do not have is trust. I am too young to be losing trust in the government, but it's gone. I haven't even grown old enough to vote yet. I still intend to vote, keeping the faintest glimmer of hope that somebody can restore some fairness here. After being in Ireland and seeing the way other people look at us, I am really rather ashamed to be from America. Puts a damper on 'proud to be an American', doesn't it?


"Powerful without equal, rich beyond compare, a spoiled, drunk 15-year-old waving a gun in their face."

That's how they see us. Actually, they see us as a bit more lazy then that. I wonder who lets this happen.

It's probably just a slow, dismal evolution of downward spiraling. I'm so very unexplainably angry. The things that the government has done to my family. The things that they have done to us. Who is in charge here? Do they even know? I can't even explain it. Those awful, awful people. Life was never fair, but I never thought it would feel like this.


To think our forefathers died for this.

Saturday, August 11, 2007

Rectified

Band camp wasn't bad. It rained a lot (which I rather enjoyed), I didn't eat the food, the freshman class is really good, and we actually went out one night.

So my year of dreading has been rather futile.

But I am done with that camp for the rest of my life, unless they try to make me come back to MC the freshman introduction campfire like I've done for the past two years. There were a lot of good memories, and they outweighed the bad this year.

For example:
  • Travis and Hannah planned to dump a cooler of water on Ms. K and they got me too because Dupuis and I were in charge of distracting her.
  • I was voted the Hotter than all the Senior Guys and Sexiest Member of the Band by the freshmen
  • Hannah and I painted beards on ourselves with green paint
  • My entire cabin painted pictures on themselves
  • NATIONAL UNDERWEAR DAY
  • Seth wore my bikini top with nothing under it at the dance...wow. That will never get old.
  • "You have like a whole album full of me being gay!"-Seth
  • Me and DS moshing
  • Dancing in the rain
  • Brushing my teeth in the rain
  • Showering in the rain?

Even though we sent Lisa to the ER and Kelsey got sun poisoning on her legs (not to mention a few sickies, and my heat rash), everybody was okay. Lisa wanted to stay and finish out her senior year at camp so she didn't go home after ER trip for her bacterial pink eye. Kelsey just wore jeans the rest of the week and was fine.

I do hate that camp, but I love them all, and they love me too. So much that I'm looking forward to a week to myself so I don't have freshmen girls hiding in bushes waiting for me to walk by so they can ambush me with hugs. No joke. Oh...they are adorable.

Time for little girls to get some rest.

Delicious.

Sunday, August 05, 2007

The Prom King and The Tuba Player

Off I go. Off again to band camp. Off again for the last time. Surprisingly, out of my jet-lag, I'm not exactly dreading it so much anymore. No. I have so many shennanigans planned that I actually am almost looking forward to it.

I wonder, however, if it is so bad to make suggestions. I wonder if it is so frowned-upon to be discontent. I wonder if it was jumping to conclusions. I wonder if I have become that person.

If I am permitted to answer my own questions with my own opinion, I will.

To the first question: Absolutely not.
To the second question: Perhaps.
To the third: Most likely.
To the fourth: I shall have to prove that I am not.

Once again, I, too, am turning mole-hills into mountains. I still have more questions, though. What makes everything here such a big deal? A giant clandestine deal? I'll give you a hint. It starts with an 'A' and ends with a 'tude'. Something I have plenty of, especially after flight exhaustion. I'm going to have to start biting holes in my tongue, that's it. It's so decietful, because since when has Becca Robinson ever brought anything to ruin?

All I'd like to do is have a stress-free, fun time with friends. When I've got frustrations up the wazoo, yes, it is hard to sit still.

Even so, I'm thankful, as I always have been. I do miss Ireland immensely, and I wish I were there. I'd trade a small-town life with crazy marching band camps and boredom for demon-posessed people and street theatre any day. Adventure is what I'm looking for, and coming from one, nothing tops it.

So band camp won't be an adventure, but I don't believe that it will completely suck. Maybe just a little, but now we've actually got plans for actual food and actual time for actual "fun" things and actually...I'm not uber-dreading.





So that's the way it's going to be, O my brothers.


Delicious.

Tuesday, July 31, 2007

The Ireland Blog

Things I Learned in Ireland


  1. Airplanes smell.

  2. The European girls dress like sluts but wear pretty jewelry, or they wear tights with shorts over them.

  3. It's hard to find someone who speaks English at JFK.

  4. All the people that work at JFK restaurants sound Jamaican.

  5. Ireland has really big trees and smells good.

  6. Shrubs and livestock grow EVERYWHERE.

  7. Everybody has a wall around their properties.

  8. Left is not right, and right is not wrong.

  9. If a mail slot does not open after one hard push, just leave it alone.

  10. No Irish household has a personal mirror or TP dispenser.

  11. Irish kitchen sinks have ridiculous water pressure.

  12. Irish two-way roads are as wide as one lane.

  13. Irish people say "you're welcome" instead of "nice to meet you".

  14. AA was founded in America by two chaps; there are now over 8,000 in Ireland alone.

  15. "Thanks a Million", "lovely", "Brilliant"

  16. "We love roundabouts so much, we actually named them!"-Ken

  17. NEVER give Chris coke or Fanta.

  18. It is totally possible to own Mt. Crough Patrick.

  19. HOT HOT HOT HOT WATER.

  20. Miracles happen every day.

The Team



  1. Wally Hostetter

  2. Linda Hostetter

  3. Katie Beth Hostetter

  4. Beckie Thompson

  5. Chris Reid

  6. Pat Wiley

  7. Leslie Montello (queen of Jewelry and "Leslies", or Irish chocolate bars)

  8. Becca Robinson



I left on Saturday and got to the Detroit Airport. I had three hours to wander by myself, so I just explored. The flight to JFK was on the tiniest plane of my life, and I was crammed in the back next to the bathrooms with an engine breathing down my neck, but it was fine. :) When I got to JFK, I had even more time to wander and so I ate at Chili's Too, which is the airport version of Chili's. The flight to Shannon was overbooked, so there were throngs of angry people and they were offering hotel accomodations and asking for volunteers to give up seats. I did not get bumped from the flight and was able to go.


Sunday morning/Saturday night was spent on the plane, and since Ireland is five hours to our advantage, the sun came up at what would be 2. The plane never got dark, so I didn't sleep even with the eye-patch. Our in-flight movie was Premonition, but my headphones wouldn't work so I just watched their lips and tried to figure out what was happening. :) The food wasn't too bad, but I didn't realize that they would feed me on the plane so I really didn't even need to eat at Chili's Too. Also, they gave me breakfast at an untimely time, but it was technically around 7 or 8 in Ireland.


I arrived around 9:30 and went through customs. I was blessed with an adorable passport guy. He asked me what I was here for, and I said a mission trip. He didn't hear me correctly, and asked again. I said: "A mission trip" and he said "Oh, a mission trip! I thought you said a fishin' trip!" Then, he really blew me away. He said "Those are very different, but the same general idea. You're fishin' for people and not for fish!" I'll remember that forever.


I met Katie Beth and Ken Kelly at the airport and we drove through County Clare to the church in County Galway. Katie Beth and I went straight into the service which had already started, and I heard the testimonies of two who were to be baptised. Then, Wally preached and after I was introduced to several church families.


The baptism was held in Galway Bay, in the Atlantic Ocean. Fran and Lydia got baptised by Paul and Wally. After that, we all went to Fran's house for lunch and met her children: Siobhan (pronounced Shavonn), Neamh (pronounced Neev), Clara, and Lola. I was quite tired, and snoozed all the way from Fran's to Galway to stuff mail-slots with flyers for Kid's Camp.





Neamh and I



While stuffing mail-slots, I came across one that was particularly nasty. I attempted to shove the flyer through, but it was rusted shut. I pushed harder and harder until the entire thing fell through the door! I wasn't even in Ireland 12 hours and I already broke somebody's door....nice. :) I stood there looking like an idiot while the owner of the house walked up, picked up the flyer, locked the door, and walked away. HAH!



That night, the team and the Kelly family (Ken, Fiona, LeAnn, Kevin, and Jill) went to Supermac's, which is like a mega version of McDonald's. Exciting stuff...



After arriving home for the first time, I was taken aback by the beauty of the country. It is so green, and the home's backyard was just rolling countryside with stone walls checker-boarding it. Absolutely lovely.

The most gorgeous back yard in the world.


Monday was our first day of Kid's Camp, and I was in charge of the music. I wrote out song-boards and such and prepared for the day. The team had been in Athenry the week before where children are angry and deprived of love, but these Hazel Park Galway kids were angels. They worked well together and listened well. The parents were thrilled and we were as well.


Then, we went down to Salt Hill which is the beach at Galway Bay. We did our Turn Around skit there and met a lot of cool people. There was a gentleman there and he sat on a bench and watched it for 3 or 4 rotations. We talked to him and he said that he had been an alcoholic 14 years ago, but now he's changed and he brings people to AA meetings if he sees them and they need it. He was extraordinary. We experienced such favor from God because of him. When a lady came up during the show and started getting lippy, he sat her down and said "You look here, they're doing a good thing. You're judging it before you even watched it. You listen to them and listen to me." He was a blessing. Street performing was amazing and I talked to people and did things I never thought I'd do.


That night we ate at Cathie's house and enjoyed some good fellowship, then went home and anticipated a new day.


Tuesday brought a new day, and it was very similar to Monday. We did Kid's Camp, performed at Salt Hill, and ate at Cathie's. There was, however, a new feeling in the air. A community witch at Hazel Park had complained about us every year we showed up, and this time she called Paul and the Guarda (police) with new complaints and lies about us. "They parked to close to the curb", she said, when in reality we had parked in the Hotel parking lot three blocks away. "They dug holes in the park", she said, when in reality we had done nothing at all. "There are too many men around the children", she said, when in reality, we were there for Jesus and loved those kids. I could feel oppression from demons that night, uneasy, afraid. There is nothing quite like it.


I learned what it felt like to be literally surviving on prayer. We needed a hedge of protection, and we prayed for it, and we got it. Oppression was huge against us, and not only that, but we could see what others could not. There were several demon-posessed people who hated us, stalked us, and tried to oppress us. No matter what happened, though, they never touched us. Hedge of protection, and we survived. We won.


Wednesday came, though, and they shut Kids Camp down. The church lost insurance because of a new policy that came in on Tuesday regarding all people who are to work with children in Ireland. We never saw those kids again.


We went to Salt Hill, and failure still hung thick in the air. It was a particularly windy day, and the balloon animals we tried to give out blew away so fast that I just wanted to go home. However, dinner with the church families still provided a sense of community and I knew that we would not lose or fail.


We performed the rest of the week instead of helping with children. We went to Shoppe Street and Eyre Square to perform, where we were loved, appreciated, laughed at, scorned, screamed at, stared at, and applauded. All the while we handed out flyers, magnets, and balloons advertising for Discovery Church. We were shown everything that town had, all the while feeling so blessed. Whenever something was lost, we found it. Whenever something went wrong, we found joy in it. Kids Camp was over, but we still got to perform. The guarda and the community council were on our side; the only person against us was Satan and we pissed him off real well.


On Saturday, we had a day of fun and went shopping in Westport in County Mayo. Then, we went to Mt. Crough Patrick, the mountain that St. Patrick climbed. It is around 640m high, and Chris, Kevin, and I made it to the top in two hours. :) Coming down took an hour and a half, and I bruised my ankle quite badly, but not enough to make me stop. It was tedious; I had never climbed a real mountain before, but it was so worth it. The view was fantastic, and I could only stand in wonder at this magnificent country we were to leave the next day. So many people we had come in contact with, so many miracles performed, so much favor that we didn't deserve. I am so thankful.





Crough Patrick



Me by the chapel on the top of Crough Patrick



From the top of Crough Patrick



So I'm home now. Even though our JFK-Detroit flight was cancelled on Sunday night and we had to stay in NYC, I am home 24 hours later nevertheless. Even though my bags are somewhere unknown, I'll get them soon. :) I realize that this incredibly long post has not done my trip or my team justice, but it is all I have to offer. I am different on the inside, tired, blessed, aware. I am changed on the inside, I am aware of demonic prescences, I know how to survive on prayer, I know how to fully rely on the One that will not let me down. I know that Ireland is shaking. I know that we have done well. I know I will be going back.



Delicious.

Wednesday, July 18, 2007

Already Forgotten

"Looks like the artichoke is steamed!"-Galinda, Wicked


As a birthday present from last October, last night I finally got to go see Wicked. It was amazing. I already knew all the songs and already read the book...but this was way better than I even imagined. I thought I'd leave determined to be in that show, but really, I decided to keep my head on earth that time. I really don't think my life will take me to performance in a Broadway-series show, but I'm just thankful for next year's theatre season. That's what I'm looking forward to, because nothing in the world brings me more joy than opening night.

I've spent this entire week shopping and getting ready to leave on Saturday. I haven't flown in 7 years, never out of the country, and I'm going by myself. Ya know what's funny? I don't think I'm scared anymore. Even if I am connecting through JFK. I have a slight clue what I'm doing, and getting there is half the fun. I still have some scripts and songs to learn, but I have a long flight.

I really can't express my "gratitution"...but mindless and endless thanking really won't mean anything after a while. Just a genuine "Thank You" will suffice, so Thank You.




Delicious.

Monday, July 09, 2007

Meng

I'm seriously considering joining a union against all dial-up internet connections. We'd ban dial-up and make it our mission to install broadband to the world. Or...better yet...make an academic internet connection available to the public. (Okay...maybe not that far because opening up a global public academic internet would screw with the already important things it's being used for...like a live connection from Michigan to Chile where the SOAR telescope is, because we love learning about 30 Doradus and all the other spectacular southern-hemisphere sky things...) But I digress.

Because of this dial-up situation I'm currently in, I still can't post pictures without having to sit here for another four hours waiting for them to load. A slight exaggeration, but you get my jist. I'll venture to the coffee shop probably sometime this week. There, I can speedily upload pictures while downloading classic rock faster than the snail-paced Cat Stevens I'm loading currently.

Dad and I just got back from Charlevoix so I can work...and go to an Ireland meeting...and put cloves in little plastic eggs for the Irish children. Apparently, we're teaching Noah and the easter story...connection? I don't know. It's all good to me

Actually...I have some really, REALLY exciting news.

Like really really.

Really really REALLY really.

The kind of news that makes you want to DANCE!

And no, I'm not pregnant. Not that I have any reason to be pregnant, but to prove it, my right ovary is caving in and, last time I checked, that means I can't have a baby right now.

But this news it better.

And I'll try to do it without going all CApS CRazY and all that crazy middle school crap that middle school girls use to accent their new boyfriend's name on their MySpace.

Here goes...

I raised ALL the money I need to go to Ireland! :) Thank you, thank you, THANK you!

That's...that's it! I leave in 13 days, and counting.

My passport better get it's ass in the mailbox soon.

But other than that...

Delicious. :)

Wednesday, June 27, 2007

Disgustamazing

Sweet week at Barakel...pictures coming at ya soon.

*

The next thing on my To Do list is to take care of Zoya the dog whose destiny is to become a California sheep herder. Word.

*

After a few hours of mulching, hauling wood, and weeding in the pouring rain bikini style, it was time to go home.

*

And I decided to jump on the trampoline in the middle of a thunderstorm, nearly died, and ran inside.

*

There is just no end to my intelligence, is there?

*

Delicious.

Monday, June 11, 2007

Wit and Comedy

Another day has come to an end, and I have felt the need to write something with actual substance to cover up my previous post which was vague and full of angst. However, nothing really comes to mind, except that...

Lydia, a person of great strength and a freckled face adorned with wheat-colored hair, beat me senseless at a game of croquet. Even when I cheated mercilessly (it was at Kevin and Kostik's open house, okay, we don't actually play croquet on a regular basis).

I have found a new love for Russian names such as Irina and Svetlana. Too bad my heritage lies with Native America, Ireland, Mexico, and Spain...or else my future daughters might have those names. Wait...I don't want any future children. Nevermind, then. :)

There is nothing in my brain that makes me the least bit qualified to teach piano to those who are my age and older, nevertheless, I have taken Casey under my wing. She is, without a doubt, the most entertaining student I've ever had, probably because she is, by definition, my theatre sister. "A little more than my friend, a little less than my whore...she must be my theatre sister." Inappropriate as that may be, it is really rather true. I really hope that everything works out and she gets to play Ben Folds just like she wants to. :)

The Wardell family continues to amaze me, even when my subtly awkward social graces continue to surprise me. Really, though, I'm such a little rascal sometimes. That's what I love about me. I figure that I have enough guilt in my life, so I'll just embrace the fact that my ridiculously large circle of friends loves me for those graces and more.

I read an entire book in one sitting yesterday, which is something I do not normally do. Of course, it was only 256 pages, double spaced, and a book that one would read normally at age 12. Nevertheless, I found it intriguing. So B. It by Sarah Weeks.

Oh, she's a good apple and a family gal. Respected, liked, no...loved. She's one of the people I admire the most, but she's always hurt in my mind. The scarred and angry part of me comes out when she's looking. She's the one, I'm ashamed to say, that my anger attacks. I suppose that might be because anger attacks the ones that are loved the most. Even so, when these things happen, I love her more because she always is willing to wipe the slate clean. Fancy going back to this memory, but she's stolen quite the chunk of my heart. Only a rare few have done that and managed to hold on to it. These are the respected people in my book. These are the ones that I'm not afraid to apologize to. These are the ones who love me back as well. I refuse to be vulnerable again, but these are the ones who would never make me vulnerable. I thank them.


Wow, there's some substance for you.

Delicious.

Saturday, June 09, 2007

Shut It, Butterscotch.

Word on the street is...

  • School's out for the summer.
  • Theatre? 3rd Hour? Bragle?
  • Pippin?
  • Coconut Lime Verbena has been chosen (by me) as the scent of Courtney and Chelsea Robinson and so I took it upon myself to wear said scent to Courtney's open house today.
  • I will miss Sui...and her delicious Thai food.
  • There was a little girl crying in the woods. I found it rather pathetic.
  • There is no understanding in this world, but heaps of compassion. And an insane amount of luck.
  • My first grade teacher offered extra credit for anybody who could begin their journal entry with a word other than "there". I didn't get any extra credit.
  • I have an extremely talented group of friends.
  • All I got from burning my school papers was a smoke-smelling sweatshirt.
  • My schedule is so hectic, but my individual days are so lazy.
  • People who despised me freshman year now treat me as a friend.
  • I know what I want to do after high school, but I'm not sure in which order I should pursue these things.
  • I don't want to sell any bricks on account of my living under the dollar, so to speak.
  • Open houses are a fair exchange; free food for a short goodbye.
  • I've already booked the time spent flying to NYC and Ireland based on things I must accomplish this summer.
  • There is no time for anything, but there is potential for everything.
  • Mooch. Wanting normal givens, working hard, not earning anything worth shit. For now.

Delicious.

Tuesday, June 05, 2007

The Making of a Day

Two words keep coming to my mind and I haven't been able to put my finger on why. The first is "escape" and the second is "rescue". Well, as far as I'm concerned, I suck at escaping and I don't need to be rescued, so obviously these words are describing somebody else.

Words that could describe me right now might be "frustrated" or "done". Not in the emo-gothic suicidal way. "Done" as in 'I'm done with school' and 'I'm done with listening to this family talk but never say anything' and 'I'm done caring' and 'I'm done!' The frustrating part? Eh. Doesn't matter in the grand scheme of things. Somewhere in the grand scheme of things, I'm supposed to go to Ireland. So I am. But wait...when did I get the crazy idea that I could do that? Lest we forget that not all of us can even afford to grow up; just simple rights of passage that should be a given in this country. "Frustrating" is alive and well.

Ugh.

Sometimes I feel as if I've reached the end of the sanity rope, but then I remember the days in which I have been further down the hole than now. I've actually climbed quite a ways...except for the fact that somebody put crisco on my rope and it's pretty damn slippery. I guess I should be used to 'slippery' by now, but perhaps feelings are simply invalid.

At least I applied for a passport, but everything that goes wrong is still my fault, apparently. It might be, but now is not the time for a self-evaluation. I have a piano recital tomorrow and haven't a clue what I'm going to play (except for the song with Casey). Perhaps I should figure that out. Or...maybe I'll dazzle everybody by making something up on the spot. I could do that. For the first time (well...since middle school), I tried out for Madrigals and made it. Turns out, though, I had to drop it because of scheduling. At least Bragle is letting me sing in Bel Canto for extra curricular. What a man. And Kelsey is letting me take Jazz even though I'll have Bel Canto on tuesdays. What a lady.

Goes to show that people have got my back even for the slightest situations. Ireland opportunities continue to flow in as I continue to work harder. Somehow, I have a hunch that this will all be worth it in the end. Somehow.


Delicious.

Friday, June 01, 2007

Harp Chaser

Indecisive is the word of the day.

For instance, student council elections are coming up. I cannot decide if I want to vote or not. Of course Erin is running for president, but still. Not voting would be my silent rebellion against politics. I love the child dearly, but honestly, she is probably the reason I'm politically inactive, apathetic, and annoyed. With her, I hear it. Every. Day. One can only take so much of the world and its many issues.

It's like pop tarts. You take a pop tart to school every day, eat it 2nd hour, and rotate two or three flavors every few weeks. Even with the flavor rotation, it gets nasty pretty darn fast. Pop tarts taste like soggy, sugary cotton after a while; even when they used to be sweet pastries of delight.

Point taken.

I get so discouraged when people don't realize, but I don't realize. The hypocrisy builds up where I least expect it to build up, but really. Perhaps I have a heart after all, probably thanks to theatre. But all of a sudden I kept feeling things that I, as an American teenager, am not supposed to feel. Empathy? Who ever thought of that? Who cares what's going on in the middle east if you don't have relatives over there? Who gives a toss whether or not people are really living for everything, up to every potential, soaking in every moment?

Maybe it's just us Michigan kids. We're so sick of things failing for us. We're sick of hunting for slim jobs and we're sick of watching the cobwebs form on the "For Sale" signs that have decorated our homes for three years. We're sick of digging holes in our pockets to find spare change for gas. We're sick. We're tired. No, we're exhausted.

This economy makes it so impossible for regular teenagers to lead regular lives. Pardon the theatrics, but really. Who gave the economy permission to take away our rights to grow up? Who fell asleep on guard while this economy snuck into our banks and robbed us clean? Who is the monster that creeps into the bedrooms of all the Michigan educators at night and whispers terror into their ears? Who planted this insane amount of stress for regular, run-of-the-mill, respectable working class citizens who are doing everything they can to avoid a lay-off? Who lets this happen?

We say it's time for change, but we are so powerless. The working-class generation has lost hope and they demand a brighter future for us. Honestly? Perhaps it is time to put away my silent rebellion and vote for change. Perhaps one vote can make the difference to bring our Michigan back to life.


Ugh. Delicious.