Summer Days: Day 2

So, I've been thinking about what I was going to write all day. "Is anything interesting going to happen? What if I freeze and end up having nothing to say?" Well, conscience, never fear. Stuff happens, and I'm here to talk about it.

First of all, I haven't gotten started on my IMMENSE summer reading list, partially because I want to get my required reading out of the way. I have to read three books, do a report on one, quotes on another, and be ready to give an oral presentation on the third. Needless to say; that will take me some time. So, I think I'm going to have to eliminate some books from that list... We'll take this as it comes, though.

Second of all, I've been Dailyboothing for about four or five days straight as of today, and I'm proud of myself. This is the longest I've ever gone... We'll see how long it lasts, but you can check out my Dailybooth at this link. And on top of that, I've been doing regular twitter updates, so, if you're so inclined, feel free to follow me on twitter at this link.

I just got home from rehearsal, and I'd like to say what a horrible feeling it was. The rehearsal process is fantastic, don't get me down. But the feeling that I'm doing something wrong is just horrible. Every time we took a break, I was practicing that freaking dance, and every time I would get it right. I'm one of those people who has to keep trying to ingrain it into my freakish brain. So I did, and I worked my ass of to try and keep up with the real dancers. Yes, I made mistakes, but I did my best. But I have to say that it is the worst feeling in the world when you can see the choreographer and the director whispering to each other and then pointing at people and nodding. Are they saying how much I suck? Probably. Are they complimenting how hard I'm working? I seriously doubt it.

And to be honest with you, I feel like it has nothing to do with dancing ability. Let's say there are two girls. Girl 1, and Girl 2. Girl 1 is about five foot six, very slender and can't dance too well. Girl 2 is about five foot even, not slender by any means, and also isn't a dancer. Nine out of ten times, they will choose Girl 1. And quite honestly, I don't think that's fair. At all.

But that's just me rambling about my weight and what not. I'm going to do something about that this summer. I know I say that every year, at least three times, but I really mean it. I'm watching what I eat, cutting out soda, and not eating bread or starches. It's a hard thing, like getting over a nicotine addiction, but it'll work out. They say that if you resist the temptation 356 times, you'll have broken the habit. But, that being said, you can still fall right back into the familiarity of that habit without blinking an eye.

In other news, it's just after ten at night, and... well... I'm really not tired. My schedule is completely backwards, and I really plan on staying up for... a solid forever. Sounds good, eh? We'll see what I'll be saying tomorrow night during Guys and Dolls performance, or the following morning at 42nd Street and then another show of Guys and Dolls. I'm just so busy! ASKDFASLJKFDAJD!

I feel like I have no more time to be a kid. There's no one telling me to eat my green vegetables anymore, no one telling me I have to go to bed at a certain time (Well... there is for that one, but I have a huge tendency to ignore it and then sleep in. Summer...) and to some extent, my room has been extremely messy... So... I don't know. I'll say it like it is.

My name is Siobhan Kathleen Ryan.
I was born in Pt. Charlotte, Florida.
I currently reside in Danbury, Connecticut.
I am entering my Junior year at Danbury High School.
I'm five feet tall, with long brown curly hair and light brown eyes.
I'm not skinny by any means.
I love to sing, but I've never taken lessons.
I want to learn how to play the piano and the guitar
I'm the vice president of Tri-M in my school.
I'm also going to be the leader of an a capella singing group out of Tri-M
I've been taking French since I was in Kindergarten
I hate French.
My favorite colours are purple, red and yellow.
I like animals that are black and white, or shades of gray.
I like really bold patterns that catch your eye.
I don't drink soda.
I'm a stage manager for 42nd Street at Richter Park.
I'm the assistant stage manager for Guys and Dolls at Richter Park
I'm in Carousel at Richter Park, where I think I might be dancing.
I'll be starting a tap class in the fall.
I love to act.
I love to write stories that go no where.
I'm me.

I think that sums me up. Like, honestly, I'm amazing with giving everything an adjective. Except for myself, of course... I guess that makes me kind of... See? No clue.

I was sitting in my math class, taking the final, and I was thinking about my writing. So, I go up, hand my final in and take out the book that I happened to have in my bag (I had lent it to someone). I didn't feel like starting it, because I wasn't interested in reading it right that moment, so instead I read about the author's inspiration for the book, hoping to spark some of my own. Instead, I found this quote. Let's just say that it describes my writing to a T.

"Your theme is good, as are your sentences. Your characters are so ruddy with life they practically need birth certificates. The plot you've mapped out for them is grand, simple and gripping. You've done your research, gathering the facts; historical, social, climatic, culinary--which will give your story its feel of authenticity. The dialogue zips along, crackling with tension. The descriptions burst with colour, contrast and telling detail. Really, your story can only be great. But it all adds up to nothing. In spite of the obvious, shining promise of it, there comes a moment when you realize that the whisper that has been pestering you all along from the back of your mind is speaking the flat, awful truth: it won't work. An element is missing, that spark that brings to life a real story, regardless of whether the history or the food is right. Your story is emotionally dead, that's the crux of it. The discovery is something soul-destroying, I tell you. It leaves you with an aching hunger."

Maybe you're not a writer, maybe you are. But to me, that quote is like... Everything. That describes writing so perfectly, and is written so eloquently it just makes me want to give up and go "Yup. He said it. Good bye, writing." And walk away, suitcase in hand, never to return back to that little section of my brain.

Sometimes I feel like my brain is a giant office building. There's the math section; cubicles filled with "number-people" who dictate the answers to me. The writing section; where letters type furiously to try and spark some inspiration, and about a billion other sections of this office building, that seem to be running simultaneously. My brain can multitask better than I can. That whole breathing while blinking while typing thing? Go brain, go.

Ugh, I don't know what to say next. I'm all out of ideas for things to talk about, so I'll leave you with a poem I found on Poem Hunter.

'Summer Light -Thru the Trees
Summer Light - Spotted Me
Summer Light - Palest Gold
Summer Light - Bright and Bold

I Saw Summer Light Descend
Summer Light, Made Shadows Bend
Summer Light, On An Emerald Pond
I Reached Out… It Touched My Palm

Summer Light, It Fell Like Powder
Or a Floating Incandescent Feather
Came Down, Like A Sheer, White Swan
Summer Light – Lifted Wing-Like Arms

So Sunrays Slanted – Shone-Misty
Summer Light-Beams, Embraced Me
Warm, Wonderful Summer Light
Touch Me Tender, Solar- Might

Summer Light, When I Was Lost
Summer Light, Found Me Before Frost
Summer Light - None Else Looked For Me…
Summer Light Said, “I Always See…”'

By MoonBee Canady

Until tomorrow.
-Siobhan