ADHD Things

As previously mentioned, I have recently been diagnosed with ADHD.  So far, it has been absolutely fantastic.  Hm, let me rephrase that.  Finally knowing what is going on in my brain has been fantastic.  Turns out, I am not lazy or unmotivated.  I legitimately have a condition which very often prevents me from focusing on anything and thus prevents me from achieving at the highest level possible.  I've been reading the book Delivered from Distraction by Dr. Edward Hallowell, an expert on this disorder, and I'm realizing that a lot of things that I thought were just me, just the way I work, are actually symptoms of ADHD.  Here are a few (taken from pages 40-47, the ADD Self-Assessment Quiz, and a couple of other places in the book.  Sorry, I'm bad at annotating things...):

- When sitting, I fidgit a lot, and I always have.  I am actually just now realizing that I am almost constantly in motion.
- It is unusually torturous for me to sit still and pay attention for any prolonged period of time, i.e. in a classroom/lecture hall.  After about 20-30 minutes I am ready for a change of scene.
-  Along those lines, I feel I could pay better attention at lectures/presentations if I could get up and pace around. (I always pace around when I'm on the phone or waiting for things, too.)
- My education since high school has been ripe with underachievement, usually because of poor organization and trouble getting to class on time/at all, aside from the primary trouble of focusing on lectures and homework.
- I LOVE driving, especially fast.  It helps me think; it's like the fog lifts.  The same goes for walking.
- Sometimes my thoughts go so fast, my "mental organizer" can't keep up.
- Sometimes I focus extraordinarily well, even superfocus, but I also get frustrated because I can't make myself superfocus on demand.
- My schoolbag, desk, bookshelves, room, closet, etc, are all a MESS.
- I have a razor-sharp memory one moment only to be foggy and absentminded the next.
- I prefer work in intense bursts rather than prolonged intervals.
- I sometimes smile in a conversation in hopes that it will be a sufficient contribution, because I have totally lost track of what is being talked about. (I never realized how often I space out until this diagnosis!!!  It happens all the freakin' time!!!)
- I do that change-the-subject-out-of-nowhere thing during conversations, because I always have other things spinning around in the back of my mind, even if I am completely tuned in to the conversation.  I've gotten good at recognizing this and warning people, though.
- I waste vast quantities of time roaming around on the Internet, sending and receiving e-mails, playing electronic games, and otherwise diverting myself from what I originally sat down at my computer to do.
- No matter how hard I try to be on time, I am usually late.
- I have trouble sticking with one task until it is done.

There are lots more, but those are some of the most prominent and interesting ones, I think.  Usually, the next question to pop up is, "Aren't most people somewhat like this?"  Dr. Hallowell answers this question as follows:

The diagnosis of ADD is based not upon the presence of these symptoms - which most people have now and then - but upon the intensity and duration of the symptoms.  If you have symptoms intensely, as compared to a group of your peers, and if you have had them all your life, you may have ADD.  An apt comparison can be made with depression.  While everyone has been sad, not everyone has been depressed.  The difference lies in the intensity and duration of the sadness. So it is with ADD.  If you are intensely distractible, and have been forever, you may have ADD.

 According to Hallowell, "roughly 5 to 8 percent of the American population has ADD."  Although it is true that "its [ADD's] symptoms abound in modern life," only this small percentage experience symptoms severe enough to warrant a diagnosis and treatment such as Cognitive Behavioral Therapy or medication.  That being said, there are loads of ways to deal with ADD that do not involve medication, so if you have ADD tendencies, there are still tricks for dealing with those things.  I think they are addressed in this book somewhere (I haven't gotten through it yet), but a lot of it is just understanding how your brain works and what your limitations are.

Ok, that is all.  I am quite fascinated by this new discovery, so there may be more posts along these lines in the future.

Home Alone

I would like to begin this post by stating how wonderful my housemates are.  Really.  They are not messy or loud, they respect my privacy but also don't let me become a recluse, and they are generally cool people with interesting and unoffensive ways of viewing the world.
BUT
with that being said
there are some things that one just cannot enjoy when there are other people in the house.  These activities include (but are not limited to):
- blasting my music as loud as it goes
- talking to myself out loud as I putter around the kitchen
- hanging out in my underwear (away from windows, of course)
- singing at the top of my lungs
- watching "Coupling" on the house tv in the living room and laughing loudly and obnoxiously at the inappropriate humor unfailingly found therein
I acknowledge the fact that any of these things would be mildly to extremely not ok if my housemates were home.  It is no reflection on them; rather, common courtesy dictates a certain way of behaving for everyone's sake.  And now that the house is mine, all mine, I may engage in said enjoyable activities as I please.

On a completely unrelated topic, here is a game that I have been spending waaaaaay too much time playing.  May it bring you similar hours of internet bliss:
http://www.kongregate.com/games/Qwizzly/qbox
yes, I am a word-games kind of gal.

And the title of this post makes me want to watch a certain Christmas movie....

I had planned on working that in a little more cleverly and subtlely, but alas it is getting late and so... that just happened.

My Life in Lists

Here is what I love:
- sleeping, especially NAPS, especially when I didn't sleep a lot the night before
- EATING.  Praise God for my young, fast metabolism and my love for walking everywhere, cuz without them I'd be fat.  Fat, fat, fat.   http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gspaoaecNAg  1:37
- the above video
- when my room is clean.  Not like it is now.  :(
- snakes.  I want this watch:
http://www.kohls.com/upgrade/webstore/zoom_popup.jsp?productId=845524892628598
and this pet:

I'm pretty sure this is a phase.  I have, in the past few years, gone through the following phases of wanting pets: rabbit, russian song canary, pit bull, ferret, black cat.  I never end up getting one.  Anyway, I still have my little blue bird, Jacqueline, and she still sings to me some mornings. Usually just because she wants her breakfast, though.

- this: http://emailga.me/  

Big Doings

- Closing night of Into the Woods is tonight.  I will admit that much as I dislike Sondheim, I am going to miss people from the cast/crew/pit.  That's as far as I'm going along that mushy route.

- I was officially diagnosed with adult ADHD about a week ago.  This explains a lot, if you ask me.  

- I am a part-time student now.  I forgot to mention it on this blog a few weeks ago when I dropped 9 of my 15 credits.  Hopefully this will mean more work which means more money!  And less self-loathing due to being behind in school.

- I am auditioning to transfer into the American Musical and Dramatic Academy for musical theater in New York City!  Also Point Park.  I have auditions with both schools this month.

Songs that have been stuck in my head this week:
- Pretty Girl Rock by Keri Hilson - current favorite... "My name is Keri, I'm so very fly, oh my, it's a little bit scary... girls think I'm conceited cuz I know I'm attractive... don't hate me cuz I'm beautiful"  sigh, story of my life ;D
- Strauss's Pizzicato Polka - we are singing an arrangement of it in HCC and it is SO CUTE that I can't help but giggle and bob my head back and forth when I hear it/sing it.  Shows up at 3:20 or so of this little clip: http://www.mojvideo.com/video-sylvester-mouse-mazurka/4acf8004e425b7b7d2ec
- One More Kiss from Sondheim's "Follies" - singing this for my AMDA audition, so I've been practicing singing out those high As!
- When Somebody Loved Me from Toy Story 2 - I have a certain composer/arranger friend of mine to thank for this... He has a knack for introducing suck-the-happiness-out-of-you sad songs into my life. :p

Spring Break Goals:
- clean my room
- find a way to buy snake watch
- knock my AMDA audition out of the park (it's on Sunday)
- go to confession
- decide what to do for Lent (starts on Wednesday!)
- receive the books and boots I ordered in the mail (don't you love goals that don't require any work?  haha I do!)
- find a summer job?

Valentine Weekend

There are SO many things I wish to do this Valentines Day weekend, not just because Valentines Day is on Monday, but because there is so much wonderful stuff going on!  Here is my to-do list:
- attend my first weekend rehearsal of Into the Woods, since Jungle Book just closed on Sunday.
- go to the Black and White ball wearing my favorite dress! (prom 2008, for those of you who know what I'm talking about)
- go to see Camelot.  sigh... this sadly may not happen...
- go to see Dracula.  This also may not happen, but I am dying to see this ballet, so I may just buy a single ticket and head out there myself.
- sing in the HCC Chamber Choir Festival on Sunday at 3.
- deliver singing valentines on Monday with fellow fabulous HCCers

Clearly, the Arts are my life. I didn't realize how much so until I formulated this list.  If only I could do nothing but sing and dance and perform all the time...

Addicted?

Ok, I'm dying here.  I haven't West Coast Swing-danced for two days now, and Tuesday feels absolutely forever away!!!  How did this happen to me??  Barely two months ago I was just a normal girl, finishing up fall semester and learning how to swing dance.  Now, I'm a full-blown addict.  Check it out:

Criteria for Addiction

* Symptoms have persisted for at least a month or have occurred repeatedly over a longer period of time.

Check.  It's been two months since West Coast entered my life.

* Taking the drug more often or in larger amounts than intended.

Check.  I dance at least twice a week, and I want to dance way more.

* Unsuccessful attempts to quit; persistent desire, craving.

Check.  Never tried to quit (why would I??), but the desires and cravings are indeed persistent.

* Excessive time spent in drug seeking.

Hmm... not sure if this one applies?  I already know when/where to get my fix... so I don't really seek it out anymore.

* Feeling intoxicated at inappropriate times, or feeling withdrawal symptoms from a drug at such times.

Check.  Definitely felt withdrawal symptoms at inappropriate times.  Like in class.

* Giving up other things for it.

Check, check and CHECK!  Like money, for instance.  And time.  Evenings and evenings of time...

* Continued use, despite knowledge of harm to oneself and others.

This clearly does not apply.  What harm could a little dancing do?

* Marked tolerance in which the amount needed to satisfy increases at first before leveling off.

Check!  Two hours of dance is not enough for me anymore.  

* Characteristic withdrawal symptoms for particular drugs.

I'm not sure which withdrawal symptoms are characteristic for West Coast Swing.  

* Taking the drug to relieve or avoid withdrawal.

Does it count that I sometimes try to West Coast BY MYSELF because I want to go dancing so bad?  

Ok, I realize that I'm probably not ACTUALLY addicted to swing dancing, and that this post could be offensive to someone who's actually struggled with addiction.  I was just trying to illustrate my feelings in a clever way.  Don't judge.  Just take me dancing.

Sleeping

One of the disadvantages to having my bed dismantled and in a pile in the corner of my room is that I didn't get it re-mantled in time to sleep on it last night.  This is due to a string of circumstances including meaningful late-night conversations with my roomies, haircuts, long phone calls with strange men, reading Harry Potter book #7, and perhaps more dancing than was absolutely necessary.  Also due to this string of circumstances, I didn't really go to bed until almost 2am, at which time I arranged my pillows in my papasan chair and snuggled in.  It was comfortable at first, but I realized as the night went on that it wasn't quite as nice as I imagined it would be.  I had strange dreams about making out in dressing rooms and losing my sister's dog in New York City.  And when my alarm went off at 8 for my 10am class, my still-half-asleep brain thought that "I slept in a papasan chair last night" was a good enough reason to cut class this morning to sleep more, a thought which was repudiated by my fully-awake self about an hour and a half later.  But what could I do?  By then I had already missed the bus into campus.  My next class isn't until 1.  It seems fitting that I spend this time putting my bed back together to avoid a repeat performance of last night.  Oy.

She Wolf

Overall, I am happier than I have been since the end of September.  I still have ups and downs, but the downs are far less frequent and less painful.  I attribute this turnaround to a variety of things, most important of which are:

-  a wonderful and relaxing Christmas break with my family, who love me no matter how much of a bitch I am and always accept me for me. :)

-  new plans for the future, which I may or may not disclose to you sometime in the next  few months.

-  frequent dancing and plans to dance much more in the coming weeks!

-  participation in my first non-high-school show: The Jungle Book at the Gemini Children's Theater in Homewood, in which I play Mother Wolf and the Monkey Queen.  Loads of fun, good experience for my desired career path, and motivation to do more theater this semester.  (also inspiration for the title of this blog.  though i do always listen to that song while i'm getting ready in the morning. :D)  and I am getting paid!  it just doesn't get any better, does it?

- a newly realistic, humble attitude toward my faith.  we all make mistakes.  i still love God.  but i'm still figuring stuff out, too, and i can't be perfect all the time.  no one can.

Oh, so serious!  But really, I am having a great time.  I love studying music, looking for performance opportunities (and finding them!) and having the self-confidence to be the person I've always wanted to be.  Hopefully I'll be writing more now that I'm not so depressed all the time. :)

***

If you have some kids you wanna bring to the Gemini, or you just wanna come see me yourself, the shows are every weekend this month and the first weekend of February.  Tickets are $9.50 each and the shows are Saturdays and Sundays at 1 and 3:30pm for a total of 4 shows/weekend.  I do not recommend coming if you are over the age of 8, since it is most definitely children's theater, but so many people have asked me about it, I thought I would post the info.   That being said, if you are under 8 years old, it is a raucously good time and I highly recommend coming!! 

***

First Snowfall!

For some reason, the first snowfall of the winter has always been a source of excitement for me.  Even my current, I-don't-like-talking-about-my-feelings, I-gag-when-I-hear-sappy-stuff me couldn't help feeling a surge of childish glee when I looked out my window and saw that it was snowing!!  Yes, although I've been going through a bit of an identity crisis lately, there are a few things that have stuck with me through it all:

1.  I love Him.  Especially in the Eucharist.  Continuing along this vein may lead to extremely sappy material, so I will now move on. ;)

2.  I am so frickin excited for Christmas!  I haven't felt this kind of anticipation for years.  It's not as simple as looking forward to the time off of school or the presents.  It's more an intense enjoyment of the very Christmasy things that I have the great pleasure of experiencing at this time every year.  Listening to Christmas carols, seeing lights and decor everywhere, making and eating Christmas cookies, being with my whole family all at once... all of it is such a delight...

3.  I love music and being a music major more than ever!  I feel that some wonderful and beautiful mystery is being revealed to me day by day as I struggle through my classes and homework.  So worth the time and effort, unlike other attempted branches of study...

So, imagine my excitement about tonight being the first of Heinz Chapel Choir's Christmas concerts!  Combining my two favorite things, Christmas and music... it looks to be a wonderful start to the holiday season. :D

Bathroom = Cruel Trap

The doorknob in our downstairs bathroom is broken, and as such, when I went to the bathroom this afternoon, I got trapped in it. This was particularly unfortunate because I was just making a quick stop home to grab my music and some food before heading to an audition at 5.  I think it was the moment when my toilet-lid-battering-ram escape tactic failed that I knew I would probably not make it to the audition.  At that point I had tried using tweezers as a wrench to turn the remaining stub of a doorknob, unscrewing the plate from the doorknob using the tweezers as a screwdriver, and I may or may not have tried to burn a hole in the door using the candle on the toilet, matches, and some rolled-up toilet paper.  Of course, I had the wastebasket full of water close by to extinguish the flames once I got out.  I shouldn't have bothered; the door didn't light.  Finally I gave up and just curled up for a nap on some rolled up towels like a little dog until my housemate got home and let me out.  I was in there for about two hours.  I had left my phone in the dining room.  I didn't think I would need it.

I find this scenario to be especially hilarious because, as some of you know, I also got trapped in a room during my trip to Africa this past summer.  I was sick and the rest of the group went to Mass, locking me up inside of our room without realizing that I couldn't unlock it from the inside.  The nausea passed after about 30 minutes, but I was stuck in there for about three hours.  Except I managed to escape from that one after much lock-picking with a bobby pin, checking the windows for ways out, and pacing around the room.  I finally realized that if I undid the bolts securing the second door to the door frame, I could swing the double doors open.  So I did, much to the surprise of an unsuspecting village woman getting water from a nearby rain well.  The language barrier made explaining difficult, so I only pantomimed a bit before high-tailing it to the latrines.

Now this whole situation is making me a bit nervous, because since this has happened twice I feel that it's bound to happen a third time.  You know, the rule of threes and all.  So... I will be keeping my cell phone with me at all times from now on.  Even in the bathroom.  Especially in the bathroom.

Oh, and I did miss the audition.  By the time I got out it was almost 5:30.  I sent the casting director an email saying that I was so sorry, but "something unexpected and unavoidable came up and I didn't have my phone with me."  Well, it's the truth.  There's no need to share with the world that I locked myself in a bathroom.  Oh wait.  I just did.

Recent Adventures

In the past few days I've had some little adventures which I would like to share.


Cockroach
On Thursday, I was working in the costume shop, which is in the basement of the Cathedral of Learning.  Not the nice ground floor that most people think is the basement, with the coffee shop and the computer labs, but the real basement, where there are no windows or doors to the outside except the loading dock.  The costume shop, as I have mentioned before, is in the very center of this floor.  Just some background info.
Anyway, I was working in the shop when I noticed a rather large cockroach on its back a few feet away from me.  It was struggling to right itself unsuccessfully, its flailing legs grabbing nothing but air and dust bunnies.  The rest of the shop was busy with a fitting, so I said nothing.  I figured it couldn't go anywhere while it was stuck on its back like that, anyway.
Later in the day, I noticed a stink bug crawling on my boss's notebook.  She had said that there were a lot of these little brown bugs on the stuff she had bought at a thrift store just this morning, so I wasn't surprised to see it but I thought I should at least let her know, since the fitting was now over.  She freaked out a little bit, decreed that it needed to be killed, and went to get the bug spray.  Since she couldn't find the spray and she didn't want the stink bug to get away, she grabbed what appeared to be the next  best thing: tacky spray, a kind of spray glue in an aerosol can.  She went to town on that little bug, spraying it from all angles with this sticky spray.  While she was at it, I thought I'd inform her of the cockroach that was still on its back under a clothing rack.  She freaked out a little more and then sprayed it, too.  Sometime during the spraying, it managed to flip over, but it couldn't exactly move, because it was now glued to the floor.  Actually, both bugs were now glued to place where she sprayed them, and neither was dead.  I guess tacky spray isn't toxic after all.
We were now faced with the dilemma of finishing the job in the least messy way possible.  My boss got rid of the stinkbug by throwing away the page of her notebook it was glued to, and a fellow workstudy and I were left to dispose of the cockroach.  Ah, how to proceed?
After considering several methods (and poking the cockroach with a piece of paper for a while), here is what we did:
a) He folded up a paper towel, laid it on top of the glued-down cockroach, and stepped on it repeatedly.   It crunched.
b) He lifted the paper towel, much to everyone's disgust.
c) He wiped away what wasn't stuck to the floor with another paper towel.
d) I doused the stuck-to-the-floor remains with adhesive remover.
e) We waited one minute.
f) He wiped up what he could with more paper towels.
g) I doused it again.  (There were still antennae and legs stuck to the floor.)
h) We waited another minute.
i) He wiped up the remainder of that poor unfortunate cockroach.  What a way to go.
This sequence, of course, does not include the abundance of screaming and general causing-of-a-scene that went on in addition to these steps.  What did you expect?  We're all theatre people.


Blues Dancing
Later that night, I went to CMU's Chicken Swing, which as I have mentioned in the past is an excellent way to get my dancing fix, especially because by Thursday night, I need to dance.  We learned blues dancing, which is kind of a looser form of tango with a bit of swing mixed in.  Maybe.  I don't really know the proper definition or the roots of the dance, but I know that it's pretty darn fun.  No, "fun" isn't really the right word for it, because it's not as fast-paced and exhilarating as some other forms of dance.  It seems like it would be good for late at night, when you're getting a little tired but want to keep dancing.
Here are the things I really like about blues dancing:
- It's pretty simple to learn.  There's no basic step, really, just the pulse of the music and keeping with that.  And keeping with your lead, obviously, if you're a follow.
- The follow has a bit more freedom in this dance.  In most partner dances, it's completely about listening to the lead and following what he wants you to do, but in this there is a bit more leeway.  Of course, you maintain a connection and stay with him in general, but if you want to get the hips going or stylize a little bit, it's all fair game.
- The hold is so close!  I prefer this; I think it's easier to maintain the connection and to feel the lead.  Nope, I have no qualms about getting very close to a perfect stranger.  Is that weird?  Well either way, I very much enjoyed getting close to my dance partners last night.

Vitamins
     I know that I should take vitamins.  I learned that while I was in Africa.  But even here in the States, where my diet consists of much more than rice and red sauce, I really should be supplementing it in some way.  But I hate those huge pills... so I usually don't.  Thus, gummy vitamins.  I decided that that was the solution to this dilemma.  But I haven't done anything about it yet.  I decided this about 3 months ago...
     So, last night I returned from dancing, and my housemate had been shopping.  And she bought... drum roll please...  DISNEY PRINCESSES GUMMY VITAMINS!!!!!!!!  I am so happy about this.  One of my career goals is to be a Disney Princess, so I think it's a good idea to take princess vitamins.  You know.  ;)

Puppies

     On Friday a friend of mine and I went to a house in the neighborhood around Mercy Hospital to look at some 2-month-old pit bull puppies.  I was answering an ad in the Pitt News, so I had no idea who these people were or where their house was.  Everyone I told about this said it sounded sketch, but I was determined.  I called my wonderful daddy and told him the exact address where we'd be and that I would call him when we were done.  

     Everything turned out fine, of course.  The breeders were really nice people who answered all my silly questions about their puppies and their other pets and training and on and on.  And the puppies were absolutely adorable.  I got right on the floor and played with them for most of our visit, so by the time we left my hands and arms looked like I had been mauled by a very small tiger.  Totally worth it.

Smiling

     Friday morning, I ran into a friend of mine on my way to my 11am class, and as usual, I smiled at her.  But this time, it was real.  I've gotten pretty good at faking it, and lately I've had plenty of opportunities to do so.  I don't think I've genuinely smiled, as an expression of joy that I felt in my heart, for almost a month. But I am smiling for real again.  I'm glad.  I was getting so tired of pretending to be happy.

New Phone

     Good ol' Dad renewed our contract with Sprint, so I got a sweet awesome Samsung Seek absolutely free!!!  I was hesitant to graduate to a qwerty keyboard and touchscreen after two years with my standard flip phone, but I am adjusting very quickly and I like it a whole lot. It has a blue ribbon of color running around the outside, and the inside when you slide it open is also blue.  I like to think that Mary has her mantle wrapped around my little phone.  Maybe that's silly.  I don't care. :)

There are more, but those are the best ones.  More to come, perhaps.

Sleepless Saga

So, last night I don't think I slept at all.  This was not a free choice; I was so tired when I got home at 8:30 last night that I was in bed by 9, thinking that if I went to bed early, I could wake up early and do my homework then.  But it was not to be.  I slept for maybe an hour before I awoke, uncomfortably hot and sweating.  My room used to be an attic, so the temperatures up here can get a little extreme.  I tossed and turned for a while, trying to fall back asleep in spite of the heat, but eventually I gave in and got up to throw open my windows the rest of the way.  This turned out to be a mistake, because apparently the 3-step trek across the room told my body that it was time to be awake, and try as I might, I could not convince it that it was, in fact, bedtime and that I was tired.  By now it was 11:30.
So, I got up and turned on a small light so that I could at least entertain myself with some books.  I read the last hundred pages or so of The Golden Compass, which was very interesting, but I still was not even remotely tired.  I thought, "Maybe I can get my homework done now, since I obviously won't be sleeping anytime soon."  I turned on my computer, etc., only to find that our internet had timed out.  I would have to reset the router, which is in my housemate's room, and I really did not want to creep in there while she was sleeping. Instead, I went downstairs, pulled out some ice cream, made some tea, and read the next hundred or so pages from How to Avoid Falling in Love with a Jerk.  (very informative, by the way.  I highly recommend.)  All this reading, eating, and tea-making took me right up to about 5am, at which point I headed back upstairs with a mug of tea to sit in my windowsill with my feet on the roof, my special spot where I sometimes watch the sunset.  Whilst staring up at the moon and the one bright star I could see through the light pollution of our neighborhood, I found myself actually feeling a chill from the night air breezing around our roof, and that chill made me a little bit sleepy, in addition to the delicious tea I was sipping (about my 4th mug that night).  So, around 6am I finally found my way back to my little bed and succeeded, at last, at falling asleep.
My alarm went off at 7.  "Hell no," I thought, and turned it off.  Then I rolled over and went back to sleep until 10:30, thus making it impossible for me to go to my 10am or 11am classes or do any of my homework.  I did get up and get ready to catch the 12:34 bus into Oakland for my 1pm class, but I just missed it and so did not get into Oakland until the next bus arrived there at 1:30 or so.  My 2pm class didn't meet today because we had keyboard audits!  Fun fun.  I think I aced mine.  The rest of the day went normally: holy hour, confession, Mass, grocery shopping, dinner.  I haven't felt the effects of my sleeplessness at all.
It is now getting quite late, especially considering I have to be up and out by 7:45 tomorrow morning, but I still am not tired.  It is too damn hot in this house.  And I need to finish doing my laundry so I actually have clean clothes to wear to choir camp.  Che palle.  That is a vulgar way of saying "What a drag" in Italian.  Maybe I can sleep in the car tomorrow on the way there.  Or maybe it will be so cold at camp that I will actually be able to sleep there... What a delight that would be...

Some Lists

Here's what I hate:
- when there are smudge marks on the windows of public transportation vehicles from the person/people before you resting their greasy head/s on the window.
- when the teacher leaves bits of chalk marking/dry erase marker while erasing the board.
- when a book I really like gets wet and its pages dry crinkled, never to be the same again.
- when I walk away from a conversation and realize that I talked about myself the entire time.
- head colds

Here's what I love:
- the Eucharist
- singing, especially really high notes
- dancing!
- the circle of fifths
- Africa, especially beautiful, wonderful Ghana

Here is what I secretly hate (but not so secret anymore)

- listening for too long

- green peppers

- answering the phone

- when people are judgmental in either direction

- being expected to socialize/mingle with a large group of people

Here is what I secretly love (but again, not so secret anymore):
- surprising people, especially by saying/doing ridiculous/unexpected things
- lacy underthings
- giving myself pep talks in the morning as I get ready
- twilight (don't judge!  They were highly entertaining.)
- watching exorbitant amounts of online tv

Fine Eyes

Today, after Tango Club, I found myself with two hours to kill before a little choir rehearsal at 9.  I decided to head to one of the numerous cafes on Craig Street to get some food and work on some homework, and I ended up in Camilles, as usual it seems.  The Indian guy working there recognized me from the other day, when I stopped in to buy some exorbitantly expensive orange juice ($4 a cup???? ay).  Once again, he complimented me on my "beautiful eyes," only this time he went on to say that in the three months he's worked there, I'm the only one he's complimented in this way.  We made small talk while he got my food; he asked me about weekend plans, where I was living this year, etc.  Then he asked me if I liked cookies, and when I said yes, he pulled two from the bakery case, "One for each of your eyes."  I was absolutely flabbergasted...  I mean, I've been complimented before, but this was unheard of.  I got free stuff because I have pretty eyes!  I'm not quite sure what to make of this... but I already ate one of the cookies.  White chocolate and macadamia nut.  Mmmm.  That one was for my left eye, I think. ;)

Happy List

Lately, I've been noticing that a lot of things are making me smile and even laugh as I prepare to leave for Ghana.  Here are a few:

- the Eucharist - I mean, seriously, what would a happy list be without the source of our happiness??
- the smell of tanning oil - mmmm, summer... and... banana popsicles?*
- trying on leather jackets in the store while my little sister reminds me again that I don't own a motorcycle
- the way my hair looks when it curls just right, like it did today  (sigh, why am i soooo vaaaain...)
- headbands with flowers on them (i just bought a bunch! :D)
- getting packages in the mail (even if it's just boring stuff for Africa, like hand sanitizer)
- teaching my little sister how to walk in heels**
- dancing along to the radio while I pack
- hanging out in my bikini after sunbathing
- the pink lace that I use as a bookmark for my copy of "The Imitation of Christ"
- gold toenail polish
- getting to know St. Therese as I read Story of a Soul***
- looking up the weather forecast for Ghana, clicking on "10 day" and realizing that I'm going to be there during some of that weather!!! gah, it's so crazy.  I can't even think about it or I might explode.

And now, since a few of these have touched on topics I've been meaning to write about for some time now, I will elaborate in these blogs within a blog:

* Adventures in Tanning
I have never laid in the sun for the sole purpose of getting tan before.  It always just happened after a day at the pool or a week of camping or whatever.  So when I started, I had a bit of a time figuring out what to do.  I've been meaning to chronicle them here so that those of you who have never tanned but thought about it could learn from my mistakes and those of you who are experienced tanners could laugh at me.
The first day, I went outside and tried to lay on my back for half an hour without moving.  I never realized what a fidgety person I am until I attempted this stunt.  I barely made it through the half hour without jumping up and running around.  Then I had to lay on my stomach for half an hour.  Torture.  And on top of that, I set up my towel right next to a giant ant hill, which explains the numerous ants crawling on me while I lay there.  I'm not really creeped out by bugs, but it was super annoying.  I said a rosary and a chaplet of Divine Mercy and offered everything up for the mission.
The next day, I managed to get my little sister to lay out with me (in a different spot) so I wouldn't get so incredibly bored.  But it was still hot and uncomfortable.  We didn't make it the whole hour.  And I didn't look tan at all, because I only had lain out around 3pm and 4pm to avoid the hottest part of the day, which I had always been taught to do to avoid sunburn.
On Sunday, though, I went out at 1pm.  It was so incredibly hot, I was watching the sweat bead up on my arms and roll off.  By then, though, I had figured out that it was better to do 3 10-minute sessions on each side so as to avoid the torture of laying still for so long.  So in between the first four and last two sessions of the hour, I ran inside to get a popsicle.  Oh man, frozen juice has never tasted so good.  And I got super tan.  Yaay!
Since then, I've used the 6 10- minute session format almost every day, and my tan is deepening nicely.  I have even grown to enjoy my time sunbathing, and I've been able to relax enough to doze sleepily in the sun.  The weather has been so nice and breezy the past few days, too. And I've said a lot of rosaries.  When I'm done with my hour for the day, I step inside and lay on the couch to watch TV for a little while in my bikini, enjoying the way my skin feels all warm from the sun and smells so delicious from the tanning oil.  Sigh. This may be a new summer tradition for me.  Maybe.


** 5 Golden Rules for Walking in Heels
1. Keep your weight on the balls of your feet as much as possible.  Putting weight on the heel causes wobbling, slipping, and heal breakage.
2. Pick your feet up to at least ankle height during your stride.  This will help you avoid what I like to call "heel farts," when your heel scrapes loudly and embarrassingly against the surface on which you are walking, a dead giveaway that you are dragging your feet.
3. Walk as though you are walking a parking lot line, one foot in front of the other.  There's no need to cross over dramatically, but keeping your footsteps close to lined up will give your hips a lovely, natural swing as you walk.
4.  Confidence!  Keep your chin and eyes up, shoulders slightly back and lengthen your neck.  Imagine stretching the muscles under your ears that connect your head to your shoulders.  And smile a bit, like you know a secret.  Here's the secret:  you are amazing!! Look at you in those heels! ;D
5.  Use all your muscles, especially your abs, glutes, and calves to steady yourself.

Oh, and here's a bonus tip:  keep your walk heel-toe, heel-toe or else you're stride will show that you're inexperienced in heels.  But remember rule #1.  The "heel" of heel-toe should be the briefest touch until your toe comes firmly down to push off again.
If you are walking in heels for the first time (like my sister was) it's probably best to start with wedges and work your way to a smaller and higher heel.  But as I also told her, if you practice walking around on your tiptoes, those muscles that you need for walking in heels will strengthen and you'll be ready for anything!


***  My Confirmation Saint
I've always had a special connection to St. Therese, since I was a very little girl.  I just always knew that she'd be my confirmation saint.  It really was as though she chose me rather than the other way around.  When I was little, I loved her child-like faith and the novena asking her for roses.  That tangible sign from heaven was so encouraging for me when I was young, and still is.  Back then I used to say that novena all the time for every little thing.
As I grew up, though, I fell away from her, especially as I grew in my faith and discovered other amazing saints.  Whenever I would tell people that she was my confirmation saint, they would always ask if I'd read The Story of a Soul, but of course I hadn't because I had written it off as too dense for me.
In Peoria in the spring of '09, I had a long talk with one of the nuns, during which she exclaimed, "It is so easy to tell that St. Therese is your confirmation saint; everything you are saying sounds just like her!"  And then she asked if I had read Story of a Soul, which I still hadn't, but now I was legitimately curious about it.
It wasn't until the spring of this year, when I was in Peoria again for spring break that I bought the book for myself.  We were visiting the museum of Bishop Fulton Sheen (who is a native of Peoria; who knew?) and I was wandering through the gift shop when the glossy little book caught my eye.  I don't know why I hesitated before I bought it, but eventually I did.
I started reading it when I got home, and was immediately struck by how similar St. Therese and I are!  Her stories of her childhood in the beginning of the book were just so inexplicably familiar, and I identified with her so deeply.  I took a break from the book for a few weeks during finals etc., but I picked it up again fairly recently and was again surprised by how alike we are.  We could be sisters, really!  I don't mean to elevate myself by identifying with such a great saint; I just mean that her way of thinking and mine are very similar, that her natural reactions to things are often the same as mine, though in her great holiness she usually overcomes these.  I understand her perfectly, and I love her so dearly, more than I ever have.  How blessed I am to have such a wonderful person chose me as her little sister of sorts!
I think it no coincidence that I have rediscovered her during preparations for my trip to Africa; she is the patron saint of missionaries!  Although she never left the Carmel, she spiritually adopted many missionaries and dreamed of being able to spread our Lord's love to people the world over.  So, St. Therese, pray for me and my fellow missionaries!  I am starting to get majorly freaked out about this whole thing.


Ok, that is all.  This post makes me seem really worldly, materialistic, and vain...  I guess I am.  :p  Maybe my trip to Ghana will cure me of those unfortunate personality traits.  Part of me hopes so and part of me... just really likes pretty things!! If I ever met myself, I don't know if I would like me very much.  I might hate me.  I might be seriously concerned for my soul.  Or I might get along with myself very well, because we were delighted by all the same things. hahaha

Pie

Yep, I made this pie.  Looks tasty, eh?  

Especially next to our trusty old Betty Crocker Cookbook...

Yesterday, I made my dad's favorite pie (rhubarb) so we could have it for Fathers Day.  While baking, I stumbled across a most excellently funny paragraph: the introduction to the pie chapter in our Betty Crocker cookbook, copyright 1969.  I couldn't keep this excellence to myself, so here it is:

What's the American man's favorite dessert?  Most people would agree - it's pie.  And heading the list is apple pie.  Followed closely by cherry pie and peach pie and lemon meringue and a lot of others.  If you care about pleasing a man - bake a pie.  But make sure it's a perfect pie.  How?  Simple.  Spend a little time with this chapter; pick up our sure-fire tips for flaky pastry.  Then try one of our recipes - family-tested and guaranteed to satisfy.  What more could you ask of a dessert?


Oh man, I laughed so hard when I read this.  And I laughed again while I was typing it out.  What say you, men?  Is it true?

More Proof

I've been flipping through old journals as I am wont to do sometimes, and I've found some interesting entries, some truly embarrassing ones, and some that make me feel so much better about myself.
There is one entry from the summer of '07, between my junior and senior years in high school, when I was worrying about college and what to do with my life.  I made two lists on opposing pages that read something like this:

What I'm Supposed to Do
- clean my room
- get really good grades
- apply to college
- clean the sink dishes and the house
- laundry
- get a job and keep it
- get my drivers license

What I Want to Do
- play the piano
- be in shows
- spend time with my friends
- sing
- write often and well
- sleep
- dream and ponder
- read
- fall in love

I absolutely laughed out loud when I stumbled across this gem, for several reasons.  I guess first and foremost is that even back then, deep down, I knew what I really wanted.  Also, I realized that not much has changed; hahaha I still want the same things!  Except falling in love. I stick my tongue out at love.  :p  But I've also realized that it's possible to want those things and have them and still be successful!  Praise God.
There's another entry, also from that summer, that gave me such hope.  I was trying to brainstorm for my college application essays, and I was jotting down notes under the heading, "What do I want the admissions people to know about me?" One sentence in particular stuck out to me there:  "If I am passionate about something, there is no stopping me," I wrote. Here's hoping I was right!!!  I know that I seriously can't wait for school to start again so I can start studying music!!! Gah, it's just so exciting!! :D  I should probably make myself a poster with that sentence on it for encouragement.
Speaking of encouragement, there's another phrase that I've been meaning to post somewhere in my living area/bedroom/office, something my mom told me once.  She was driving me back from the trolley station, one of many such little trips during the course of my year as a commuter, and I was telling her about school and a test I had done well on or something.  She was very pleased at my progress, of course, and I will never forget what she said next: "I'm tellin' you, Jane; you could set the world on fire."  ... I seriously can't even think of words to explain how much this means to me, so I'm just gonna leave it at that.
And now, to close, I thought I would share a few choice tidbits from various journal entries in celebration of my re-reading.  Enjoy.

Monday, August 7, 2006
I really really really want to draw on myself right now, so I'm writing on paper instead to counter the urge.

March 28, 2007
Tonight was opening night of the show Thoroughly Modern Millie at BPHS.  In some ways I feel like this is the first night of the rest of my life, but a new journal always makes me feel like that.

Monday, August 20, 2007
24 hours ago I was going batty in the car and now I'm the world's most befuddled Bethette.  All day I have had the feeling that I'm having a very strange dream where I'm a Bethette, not a piccolo player.  But it's real.

Wednesday, April 29, 2009
It's around 3pm here in China, and 3am back in Bethel Park.  All I want to do right now is sleep.
I've been on a plane since 10am Bethel time, and we just boarded our second plane from Hong Kong to Beijing.  My butt hurts and my knees are sore.
Also I'm starving!  If I'm going to be awake at 3am, the least these people can do is feed me.
Hahaha I am so cranky!  This will change soon, I hope, as our trip becomes more about sightseeing and singing and less about traveling for hours and jet lag.

Monday, June 1, 2009
Today is an ass-wipe of a day.

Sunday, September 27, 2009
I just got back from choir camp and I'm waiting in the quad for Dad to pick me up. ...  I am so cold.  Really.  I think my toes are going to turn black and fall off.  And here comes Dad.  Sorry.  Too late.  I am already toe-less...

Friday, January 1, 2010
Alright, it's only been a few hours since I wrote the last entry, but I couldn't wait to write the new date.  It always gives me such hope for some reason.

Wednesday, March 17, 2010
Lord, I know that I do not need to see further than one step in front of me to keep going.  But what is that step?

And with that, I'm signing off.  Good night, folks!

New Name, New Address

Hello readers.  In case you haven't noticed (or are reading this on Facebook), I have changed the name of my blog.  It shall henceforth be known as "Songbirds and Silhouettes" and can be found at http://songbirdsandsilhouettes.blogspot.com.  
Now, you may be understandably curious about what prompted this change.  So I will tell you.
Earlier today, I was shopping on amazon.com for a book I need to buy for my trip to Ghana.  All of us in the group will be reading Set All Afire: A Novel About St. Francis Xavier together since he is the patron saint of something that pertains to our trip.  Missionaries, probably.  "St. Francis Xavier is noteworthy for his missionary work, both as organizer and as pioneer. He is said to have converted more people than anyone else has done since Saint Paul."  Ah, thank you Wikepedia.  Anywho.  So I was buying this book and I was intrigued by the little "payphrase" bar on the side since I always see it when I check out but never click on it.  So today I did click on it.  I got a very informative little popup window explaining how the whole thing works and how to set one up etc. and I thought, hey, why not.  It would be nice to speed up the checkout process a little more.  So I followed the link and scrolled through the suggestions listed when I noticed that one of them included the word "songbird."  
And now, some background.
I have always, but especially in recent years, considered myself to be God's little songbird.  Here are a few reasons why:
~  There is that beautiful scripture verse about the Lord taking care of the birds and the flowers, so we should not be anxious... wait, I'll find it... "Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat or what you will drink, nor about your body, what you will wear.  Is not life more than food, and the body more than clothing?  Look at the birds of the air; they neither sow nor reap nor gather into barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them.  Are you not of more value than they?"  ~ Matthew 6:25-26  Sigh.  How lovely.  I remember this verse often when I get worried about where my life is going or how I will possibly have enough money to do this or that.  So far He has really provided for me!!  Just like a little bird. :)
~  Do you remember that scene in Romeo and Juliet where Juliet wishes that Romeo was a little bird tied to a string on her finger?  It's part of the balcony scene:

Juliet:

'Tis almost morning.  I would have thee gone --

And yet no farther than a wanton's bird,

That lets it hope a little from his hand,

Like a poor prisoner in his twisted gyves,

And with a silk thread plucks it back again,

So loving-jealous of his liberty.

Romeo:

I would I were thy bird.

Juliet:

Sweet, so would I.

Yet I should kill thee with much cherishing.

What a delicious tidbit of literature.   Now, this scene, although laced through with dark foreshadowing, in some ways represents the relationship I wish to have with God.  I so dearly wish that I could be a little bird perched on His hand or His shoulder, or snuggled into His palm without a care in the world.  How I wish that I could delight Him just by being the cheeky little creature He created me to be.  And Juliet's description of herself as "loving-jealous" seems to me to explain perfectly the way God feels about each of us.  He doesn't want to share our attentions with anything or anyone!  He always wants to be first in our hearts, as well He should.
~  I love singing more than almost anything else, and I've always known that my voice was created to give glory to God.  I have one particularly beautiful memory concerning this knowledge that brings me such joy upon recollection.  I was walking to a Heinz Chapel Choir concert, I think the spring one.  It was quite damp that day, as we had just come through one of spring's many showers. The trees on the lawn of the Cathedral of Learning, bare branches darkened by the rain, spread themselves in intricate patterns across the pale grey twilight.   I was bustling my way toward Heinz Chapel, thinking of all the things I had left to do that day besides sing in a concert.  I must have breathed a prayer of anxiety, as I often do when I get overwhelmed, for just at that moment, as I was walking under those trees, a large flock of birds swooped down to land on the branches above my path and started singing, I mean really singing.  It was gorgeous.  I think I actually stopped walking to turn my head up toward the songbirds in awe.  A smile broke out across my face as I listened, because I could hear the message being sent loud and clear.  "Go and sing for me, my little songbird, for it gives me such joy and such glory.  I will take care of the rest; do not let your heart be troubled."  I knew that the moment, the song, was a gift from Him, because in my heart I felt His peace nestling.  Needless to say, I continued on to the concert with spirits greatly lifted.  
~  When I was a senior in high school, I played the part of Chavala in Fiddler on the Roof, and her nickname is "Little Bird."  I danced a beautiful ballet (which I choreographed, by the way) behind the scrim as Tevye sang a song about how sweet and adorable I am, after which I ran crying around the passarelle begging for his acceptance in the extremely dramatic "Tradition: Reprise."  It was an excellent moment.  
~  I've always had birds as pets.  Our family dog died when I was pretty young (I wanna say around 4 years old?) and my mom refused to get another dog (or a cat) because she and several others in my family are actually very allergic to them.  So, after that I had a caterpillar (Mr. Caterpillar - I know, SO original) and a hamster (Kiki - my favorite character on "The Puzzle Place haha) before my little brother decided he wanted a bird.  We named the little blue fluffball Smokey after our favorite mountains, and after a while my brother got tired of taking care of it, so I adopted it. After he died, there was Beauty and then Tobey.  When Tobey died I gave up on birdkeeping, but after a traumatic incident at my sister's house (her dog ate one of her birds), she sent the remaining budgie home to live with me.  This was Jack.  Now we know he's actually a girl, so it's Jacqueline.  And of course, my favorite pet EVER was Elliot, the darling little spot of sunshine who died in a ceiling fan accident.  She was seriously such a good bird.  Sigh.  And she loved to sing.  I guess from having birds around for so much of my life, I've just grown to love them.  I love the graceful way they circle in flight, the way they preen and ruffle their feathers, the silly way they cock their heads as if they're listening to you suspiciously.  And I love the way they sing and chirp and whistle.  They make such beautiful music without ever taking a lesson or studying for a minute.  (soooo jealous hahaha)  Although some species of birds (like the Russian Canary) do learn their song from older canaries singing around them.  I've done a considerable amount of research in books and on the internet about birds, their history, and their care.  It's just always interested me.
So, bringing us back to the original point of this story... 
As you have probably surmised, seeing "songbird" in the payphrase suggestions got my imagination going in so many ways.  The phrase "Songbirds and Silhouettes" popped into my head as though someone had dropped it there.  I typed it into the little box, but the more I thought about it, the more I loved it.  I said it out loud a couple of times, enjoying the way it rolled off the tongue.  (Did you know that "s" and "l" are my favorite consonants?  Well they are.  Especially together.)  I could not waste such a glorious word concoction on something so mundane as a payphrase!!  I immediately thought of my blog.  I named it "Thoughts Along the Way" because I couldn't think of anything better at the time of its creation.  I had always intended to give it a better, more suited-to-me name eventually, but I hadn't been able to think of anything.  And now this!  I had already changed my background to the silhouetted birds flying about several months ago, so it matched perfectly.  It reflects a major part of my life and adds its own little twist.  
Silhouettes?  What do those have to do with me?  Well... I've thought of a few things...
~  The mental image I have of that glorious memory on the way to the HCC concert is the silhouette of birds on branches, black against the pale grey sky, crisp and beautiful.
~  I did an entire ballet number in silhouette as Chavala, my shadowed figure dancing across a white backdrop lit by deep pink lights.
~  Silhouette could also refer to the shape of a body or an article of clothing.  This is slightly fitting since I work in a costume shop at present and do have quite a love for beautiful and well-made clothing.  
~  Anyone who's ever taken Theater Arts II at Bethel Park High School knows how awesomely fun shadow scenes are.  Completely done in silhouette.  
~  A silhouette can be deceiving... Things are not always as they appear, and there is a certain air of mystery about silhouettes.
~  Back in Victorian times, in addition to collecting each others' hair and weaving it into wreaths and such, ladies would made silhouettes of each other and perhaps of young men they were interested in remembering.  No photographs, you know.  So for me, the word "silhouette" conjures up images of those lovely, classy times when there could never be too much lace or dainty finger cakes.  Charming!
Before I switched over the name officially, I Googled the phrase to make sure it wasn't the name of an album or a song or something that I was just remembering from somewhere else.  The only thing that came up was a flyer for a concert/fashion show in North Carolina.  So it seems I've come up with something fairly original, after all.
Also, http://janelaine-thoughtsalongtheway.blogspot.com doesn't exist anymore.  So if you go to that site it'll say "not found" or whatever.  Just so you know.  Sorry about any confusion or annoyance this may cause you.
Ok, guys thanks for reading!  I look forward to this new chapter of blogging.  A good name just makes everything seem right, doesn't it?  I think Anne of Green Gables would agree.

Fundraising Fiasco

I've been meaning to write a chronicle of my crazy fundraising efforts this past weekend, but I've been so busy with my nannying job and my new workout regime (woot woot!) that all I've really wanted to do this week is sleep.  But now it's Friday night, I've had a whole day to do nothing, and it's thunderstorming, so I'm in a great writing mood.  Ergo, what follows is an account of the weekend of May 22/23, the fateful weekend that blessed me with over $3800.  Read on... if you dare...

Saturday, May 22, 2010
I sleep in this morning, because I have already gotten into such a horrible late-to-bed-late-to-rise sleep schedule, plus I was out late on a babysitting job last night.  I spend a few hours in the afternoon watching online TV at hulu.com. (love this site!  where has it been all my life?)  Then I get right down to business baking cookies.  What is a fundraiser without cookies, after all?  I make a double recipe of chocolate chip cookie dough, the equivalent of 10 dozen cookies.  The oven is heated to 375 degrees, making the already-warm summer air almost unbearable.  The cookie dough seems too thin, but it's the Nestle Toll House original recipe, so I decide to trust the cookbook.  Poor choice. The cookies spread out several inches on the pan and stick horribly.  Yea, the recipe also said to use an ungreased cookie sheet.  Grr.  And did I mention that these little suckers burn if they are in the oven an instant too long?  Well, they do.  And every sheet seems to take a different amount of time.  This all results in me having to watch the cookies in the oven like a hawk tracking its prey, pull them out in the knick of time, put the next sheet in, and then carefully scrape the cooked cookies off the sheet without breaking them.  (Eventually I did start greasing the sheets, but at first I was worried that oil on the sheet would encourage more spreading, so I preferred to just be careful when transferring the cookies from sheet to cooling rack.)
Ay.
On top of this rather unfortunate cookie situation, I am scheduled to cantor the 5pm Mass.  I think it's going to be a pretty straightforward Mass, but my mom keeps yelling from the couch in the living room that I need to look at the music.  I take a brief break from cookie-ing to review the psalm.  It's fairly easy.  I get back into the kitchen.  Mom's not satisfied, so she starts looking over the music herself.
"There's a new hymn in here," she calls from the piano.
"What??"  And then she starts playing it on the piano while I continue to pull almost-burned-yet-not-quite-done cookies out of the oven.  At this point I am so hot and frustrated with the cookies, the music and the fact that I haven't even started writing my parish talk that I feel more annoyed than anything else, but I bite my tongue.  It is really very sweet of her to help me learn the music in a way that doesn't require me to leave the kitchen.

3:30pm
I finally give up on making all the cookies about 2/3 of the way through the dough.  I need to get ready so I can get to the church around 4, in time to set up and make it to rehearsal at 4:30.  I pull the final tray of cookies out of the oven and run up to my room to get ready.

4:15pm
I am hopping out of the car outside the breezeway of the church, appropriately clad in a cute but classy outfit with a huge tray of cookies and a basket for donations in hand and a bag with my baby laptop in it slung over my shoulder.  Upon entering the breezeway, I see that there is another group setting up shop; a family from Bethlehem (the city of our Savior's birth, not Bethlehem, PA haha) is selling hand-carved olive-wood statues, crosses, etc. Their shop takes up three folding tables, but I don't see a place for me.  I leave the basket and my tray of cookies on a coffee table across the breezeway from them and trip-trap over to the pastor's office in my little white heels with the bows on the toes.  He informs me that whatever tables and chairs are out there are all that's available for the weekend and wishes me luck finding a place to set up.  I thank him for giving me the opportunity to do this this weekend and head back to the breezeway, wondering how I'm going to set up.  Eventually I decide to just leave the cookies and basket on the coffee table, because there's a nice leather couch behind it and a couple of chairs that makes for a comfortable little sitting area close to the doors of the church.   Perfect.

4:30
The Rooney Room, where the choir usually rehearses before Mass, is full of science project boards from the Carnegie Science competitions, so I meet the organist outside in the church to run over the music for the Mass.  We review the new hymn and the verses to the psalm once each, but for some reason he trusts me to know the rest and hurries off to make copies of a special Pentecost song that has to be in the pews since we don't use songsheets anymore.  I therefore am left with my nerves and the music which I have barely looked at all day.  After a quick stop in the tabernacle chapel to beg for the graces I need to make it through the evening, I sit myself down at the piano to further review the music.  Once I have gotten to the point where I can sing through all the pieces without any help from the piano to find the right pitches, I sit down in the front row of the choir section to write my appeal speech.  I know what I want to say, so it's just a matter of writing down the key points I want to make.
Surprisingly, all this bustle still doesn't take more than 20 minutes, so I'm still sitting there with my nerves and copies of music lying open around me, waiting to get the signal from the priest to start the Mass.  More prayers for strength and courage.  More harried reviewing of music.  Dear God, will Mass never begin?!!

5:05
I finally see the wave from the back of the church and step up to the microphone.
"Good Evening.  Today we celebrate the feast of Pentecost.  All music for today's Mass can be found in the Gather hymnal..."  As usual, as soon as I begin my nerves settle down and my faith in myself is restored.  I can do this.  The opening hymn goes beautifully and I even make it through the Gloria with no mistakes.  Praise God; last time I lead the Gloria I completely butchered it, or at least made up large sections of melody.
I don't hear a single word of the first reading; I am reviewing the psalm in my head over and over... When the reading is over and the music begins, I walk up to the ambo, pausing to bow before stepping up on the altar.  I shouldn't have worried.  The verses are a simple chant and it's easy to hear my notes in the chords of the organ.  I step down extremely relieved.  I know it may seem like a hassle, but I absolutely love singing the word of God to the people in the pews.  How beautiful words become when they are set to music!  It only brings out the beauty of the scripture that much more.  And people enjoy my singing; I can see in on their faces as I finish.  Truly, some of the most satisfying moments of my still-young musical career have occurred while singing a psalm in a way that touches the hearts of my listeners.  I pray for that grace before every performance, that my voice may in some way touch the hearts of those who hear me and bring them closer to Him.
But I digress. The rest of Mass went swimmingly, and I nailed that new hymn like I've been singing it my whole life.  After communion, I step up to the ambo once more after Father's brief introduction.  My family is in the pews this evening, and I can see them smiling at me, even though I know that my mom is a touch embarrassed that her daughter is getting up in front of everyone to beg for money.  But she is smiling at me nonetheless.  So I take a deep breath. And I deliver the following speech:
"Hi everyone!  As Father said, my name is Jane Henkels, and I promise not to take up more than a few minutes of your time.  I've been a parishioner here since I was about two years old.  I graduated from St. Thomas More grade school in 2004.  I started singing at Masses when I was about 5 years old, and I sang my first psalm from this ambo when I was in second grade. [Here my dad actually laughs out loud, and if you know my dad, you know that it was indeed loud.  His laugh prompts a slight ripple of laughter from those around him, and I continue, encouraged.]  But that's not why I'm here right now; I'm here to tell you about a pretty amazing opportunity I've been given for this summer.  I was chosen from a fairly large pool of applicants across the country to accompany a group of students and missionaries on FOCUS's, that is, the Fellowship of Catholic University Students, first ever mission trip to Ghana in West Africa.  For two weeks, we'll be staying in a tiny village 3 hours outside of the capital city.  The people there have been celebrating Mass in nothing more than a hut, and they don't have a parish priest, so they are only able to receive the Eucharist once a month.  We are so blessed to be able to receive Him every week or every day if we want, but these people are not so blessed.  So for those two weeks we'll be building a church for them and helping out with catechesis.  Then we'll return to the capital, Accra, to work with the Missionaries of Charity, Mother Teresa's order, in the slums of the city and in their AIDS ward.
So... I'm pretty excited about this, obviously, but the cost of the trip is $3500, and I certainly don't have the means to come up with this money on my own.  All of us going on the trip have been asking our families and friends for support, so I thought I would ask you, my parish family, to help me out.  So, I'll be in the breezeway after Mass, and I brought cookies [turn up the charm, insert persuasive smile here and yes, they laughed] and it would mean so much to me if you would stop by.  Thanks so much for your time!"
I step down from the altar to thunderous applause, which I really am not expecting.  Why would anyone clap after you ask them for money?  But it feels quite good, to have the support of my parish like that, and I walk over to the breezeway with a huge smile on my face as my mom takes over the leading of the closing hymn.
The response of my fellow parishioners is overwhelming; scads of people come over after the final blessing to talk to me, to donate, to buy cookies, to warn me about malaria, to tell me about their family members or friends who have traveled to Africa, to ask me questions about the trip.  I play the video for the trip on my laptop for everyone to see, and people are very interested, especially the children.  One woman makes sure to come over to the table, press a St. Jeanne Jugan medal into my palm and encourage me to carry it with me during the trip.  I love things like that.  It makes me feel so connected to the Body of Christ.
After everyone had gone home, I stuff my winnings into a manila envelope and head home to count it all. The total is $843.50.  Wow.  At this rate I'll have enough money for sure.  But I don't want to get my hopes up.
By this time I am really pretty tired from the excitement of the evening, but no rest for the wicked, I guess, because I have to bake more cookies!  I sold the whole tray after the 5pm Mass and still have part of my last batch of cookie dough left to bake.  I know that I need enough cookies for at least 3 more Masses and that I had sold 2/3 of 10 dozen cookies tonight.  So it seems I have no choice but to make another double batch of chocolate chip cookies.  I follow the same recipe, but this time I add 3 cups of flour, I lightly grease the cookie sheets, and lower the oven temperature to 350 degrees.  The cookies come out looking like something from a dream.  They're perfect.  Now only 9 dozen more to go...

Sunday, May 23, 2010
1:30am
I finally sink into bed, exhausted.  I will never bake another cookie again as long as I live.

7:00am
My alarm goes off.  Gotta get up for the 8am Mass...

7:30am
I get out of bed.  That snooze button...

8:10am
I leave for Mass.  I get there just as the homily is beginning.  Perfect.  I stow my huge box of cookies under the coffee table and set up the tray and the basket for collections as per yesterday and I have time to slip into the bathroom and do my makeup before giving my talk.  Actually I have more than enough time; I am done in time for the Liturgy of the Eucharist, so I sneak out into the church behind the choir section and enjoy the Consecration from a hidden spot off to the side near the tabernacle chapel, but I don't receive Communion since I didn't even make an effort to be on time to Mass.  Plus, I'll be going to all the Masses today.  There's no need to rush things.
The talk goes well, but no laughter; the crowd is much quieter, which I suppose is understandable since it's kind of early in the morning.  Their support is unquestionable, though, as I raise another $810.  And they don't eat very many cookies, also probably because it's early in the morning, so I am hopeful about my supply making it through to the 11:30 Mass.

9:15am
I settle into the pew for the 9:30 Mass.  This one I am attending from start to finish, so I take some time to quiet my heart, etc, and prepare myself to receive my Maker.  He is so good to us.  I don't even know what to say about His generosity.
The talk goes well again.  I'm beginning to sound more polished now that I've given the speech for the third time.  There is no audible audience response until their applause (again!), but they are smiling.  And that makes me very happy.  I stay for the final blessing to seal in all those good graces I received in the Eucharist, even though I know I'll probably miss a couple of people leaving because of it.  This crowd eats a lot of cookies, almost two trays full, and I raise $723.20.
I had planned on grabbing something to eat before the 11:30 Mass, but I run into an old friend of mine and we get to talking, and I am of the opinion that fellowship is more valuable than food, so I let our conversation go on for a while.  It is so good to talk to her; we haven't seen each other in so long!  We are both going to the 11:30 Mass, so we head into the church together and she wishes me luck.

11:30am
Another Mass, another talk.  The crowd is a bit more lively, and as I step down from the altar to walk to the breezeway, I hear a cheer from the direction of my friend's family; she (or one of her sisters) is showing her support!  How lovely. :)
Again, people are super supportive, giving $706.  I do run out of cookies, as I had feared, but there are only a few people who don't get cookies that want them, so it's not too bad.  It seems that more people are interested in giving as much as they can than those who are just interested in buying cookies.  Indeed, I averaged about $14 a cookie by the end of the weekend.

1:00pm
I return home, truly exhausted now.  But I know that if I fall asleep I'll be groggy for the 5pm Mass this evening.  Besides, I have more cookies to bake since I ran out at the 11:30.  I don't have the strength to make another batch from scratch after last night, and anyway we're out of chocolate chips by now.  So I pull a Funfetti cake mix from the pantry and make sugar cookies from the mix.  While they're cooling I count up my money from the first three Masses of the day, and I am extremely encouraged to find that I only need to raise about $400 more to reach $3500 which, judging from the other Masses, should be extremely doable.  I am too tired to get really excited about this, plus there are cookies to be iced now.  Over the course of these two days I baked somewhere around 24 dozen - 288 - cookies.  Yes.  I vow I will never bake again.  (A vow I ended up breaking this past Friday, when I made oatmeal chocolate chip cookies for the 8th grade graduation.  And I liked it.  Baking and I just needed to take a little break, that's all.)

5:00pm
I leave for the 5pm Mass.  Since I've already been twice today there's no need for me to be on time.  I touch up my makeup in the bathroom during Mass and chat with the mother of the family from Bethlehem, who have also been at all the Masses selling their wares.  She and I both admit that we're doing very well, though she thinks we would have done better if we hadn't been there at the same time.  I didn't say so, but I disagree.  I think it's cool that we're both there at the same time.  I think we bring each other business, that people who stopped in to see the olive-wood carvings maybe dropped by to buy a couple of cookies and that people who came to donate to me maybe sauntered over to her table.  It's like a little fair, especially with all the science boards in the Rooney Room.  Our parish is just teeming with life and love.  It's fantastic, really.
My final talk of the weekend goes off without a hitch (and the more-awake 5pm crowd laughs at my persuasive cookie-making line - success!), but I am definitely breathing a sigh of relief as I walk down the altar steps for the last time.  This whole ordeal has been more exhausting that I anticipated.

6:30pm
I finally head home to count everything up.  All told, I raised $3865.  This is plenty for the trip and probably for my airfare as well.  I am hugely relieved; just this past Wednesday I had been on the phone with the director of the summer missions discussing how seriously behind I was in my fundraising.  I got off the phone that afternoon thinking that, if things didn't go well this weekend, I would have to pull out of the trip.  I prayed a long long litany to pretty much every saint I could think of, begging God to help me if it was His will that I go.  Well, let me tell ya: if I had any doubt in my mind that He wanted me to go to Ghana before this weekend, it has certainly been erased.  I skip outside where my mom is planting geraniums and tell her the good news.  She is absolutely floored, and just as relieved as I am (probably more so, actually).  We praise God together a little bit before I got inside to sleep!!  I am seriously so tired by this point that I think I'm going to fall asleep standing up.  It is so much easier for me to sleep now; cliche as it sounds, it is as though a huge weight has been lifted from my heart.

Monday, May 24, 2010
I recount all the money.  When I'm done, there is a huge stack of cash sorted according to denomination and all facing the same way about as high as 5 or 6 inches.  I feel like a drug dealer walking around with all that cash.  Since my bank is in Harrisburg, my parents have to deposit the money in their bank account and write me a check.  There's some reason that I'm with PSECU despite the distance, but I can't remember what it is...
I mail $2100 and all my paperwork for the trip to the Summer Missions Office; after this I only have another $600 due, which I obviously have now.  I send an email to the leader of the missions and of my mission in particular telling them that it's all in the mail and that they'll have it by Wednesday.  Phew!
The rest of the $3800 after the $2700 due to FOCUS will go towards the following:
- paying for my airfare to and from Chicago, where the flights to Ghana depart/arrive and where we'll be having a small retreat before and after to avoid culture shock both ways.
- paying for my appointment with Passport Health, my immunizations, and the malaria and anti-diarrheal medications I'll have to take while I'm there, all of which are surprisingly expensive, possibly around $1000 total.  (interesting side note: the malaria meds may cause hallucinations.  hahaha that should be fun when we're all taking them...)
- paying for the cost of materials for the church we're building
- donations to the Missionaries of Charity

And still the donations keep trickling in.  I've received a couple of checks in the mail from the Facebook page I set up and from appeal letters I sent out.  This weekend when I went to Mass a couple of people who had missed me last weekend handed me checks and cash.  One woman left a card with money in it in the will call box in the parish office.  Overall, the support has been quite overwhelming.  I still have to write thank you notes to my donors and deposit the envelope stuffed with checks made out to me.

While you're reading, I want to send a big THANK YOU out to everyone who has donated money or remembered me in prayer or even just told me that you believed in me and my mission or showed interest.  It means so much to me to have so many people holding me in their hearts as I prepare to go where He is sending me.  I promise you will all be in my prayers, especially in the next couple of months.

I leave July 5th!!!  Ghana, here I come!!! :D

Thoughts on Camping

I know this seems really out of the blue as far as topics go... but the weather is getting to have that feeling of family vacations, most of which have included camping for me.  Also, I just drove about two hours home in this lovely weather, and there was one point along the way when the air was full of the smell of campfire.
Mmmmmm campfire... you know, I am of the opinion that a campfire is quite possibly the most romantic setting ever.  It's just so sweet and comfortable, so open and free and yet so cozy.  It invites singing of rounds (at least in my family haha) and storytelling.  Plus that smoky smell is one of my favorite smells in the world.  When we get home from a trip, I wait to wash my hoodies for a few days because I want the smell of campfire to linger... is that gross?  hahaha I don't really care...  I know that I whine and complain about how horrible camping is (mostly due to the ungodly amount of bugbites I usually come home with), but when it comes right down to it, camping has come to be a part of who I am, and I have to admit that I love it. There's just nothing like opening your tent flap to the fresh morning air upon awaking, like cooking over the campfire, like snuggling into your sleeping bag when the night is chilly.  This is all assuming that you don't go south to camp.  Camping in the south = waking up with sweat trickling down your face.  No thank you.  Take me to the mountains, please!  The Rockies are my favorites.  Though I was just talking to my sister about one particularly beautiful campsite out in the plains somewhere... It was during our trip to Yellowstone (yep, we drove the whole way there in a weeks time, stopping to camp along the way) and the campsite was modeled like a ghost town with an old general store and abandoned main street and all of that.  But what we remember the most is the gorgeous hills of layered rock and sand in rich earth tones and plains with tall grasses and wildflowers, the most beautiful I have ever seen.  We left our tent flap open to just the screen that night so we could see the magnificence of the landscape as we fell asleep and in the first morning light.  Sigh... someday I hope to go back to the wild west...

A Change in the Wind...

As usual, it took a severe crash and burn for me to realize how unhappy I was. At the end of classes, before finals began, I realized that I was insanely stressed out, hating school, and that I didn't care enough about any of my classes to fight for success. Something had to change.

A couple of months ago, at the career development office:

Counselor: So, what is your ideal job?

(long pause)

Me: Well... my IDEAL job is doing voice-overs for Disney movies and recording books on tape. ... I realize that that's not exactly included in my major. [english writing and communications] I do think I'm in the right major, but I also know that if the opportunity to perform ever presented itself, I sure as hell would jump at it.

Later that month, conversation with a friend:

me: I have so much to do... [more yammering about specific papers I had to write, tests to study for, whining etc.]

him: Why don't you pull an all-nighter?

me: I can't. No, really, I physically cannot. I always fall asleep.

him: Well, then why don't you skip choir rehearsal and get caught up?

me: No!

him: Why not? You have almost perfect attendance; one absence isn't going to affect your A in the class.

me: No... no way am I missing HCC. I love it too much!

him: So... let me get this straight: you hate all your classes except HCC.

me: (pause) Yeah... I guess do...

Monday of finals week, on a walk with my mom:

me: "I think I need to change my major..."

Mom was a little freaked out, I think, but she suggested that I get more information. "Knowledge is power," she said. So, I made a whole slew of appointments with my choir director (also, conveniently, the advisor for the music department), my academic advisor, the career counselor (again), and an advisor from the theater department. What it boils down to is this:

I cannot live without performing. I am tired of putting costumes in dressing rooms for shows that don't include me, tired of cheering others on in their musical/theatrical pursuits and never even dreaming that I could follow suit. Aside from moments in front of the tabernacle, in Eucharistic adoration, and at Mass, the happiest moments of my life are during performances. Singing in church, dance recitals, high school musicals, half-time shows as a Bethette, choir concerts, it doesn't matter where or how I'm performing; I have loved every minute of my time on stage. And I want to do this for the rest of my life, professionally.

I know that pursuing a career in musical theater will be difficult. But I also know that I have what it takes to succeed. The more I look at this career path, the more I research and talk to people and imagine myself living that life, the more I feel that this is the path I was created to take. For the first time in my life, I want to throw myself into my studies because I want to make myself better. I desire to improve myself, to make something of myself, to really work for something! And for the first time, I truly believe that I can do it. This decision has given my life purpose and meaning like I've never dreamed of!

So, where does this leave me? What's my immediate plan of action? Well, I'm going to drop the communications degree and finish my writing degree, but I'm switching my concentration from "creative nonfiction" to "fiction." And I'll be adding on a degree in music. I'm only two classes away from my Italian minor, so I'll probably finish that up. Since I'm getting started on the music credits so late in the game (I'll be a junior in the fall!) I'll have to take summer classes next summer to fit in all my gen eds. Even still I have to talk to my advisor about squeezing the three-year music major program into two years. (I already tested out of an intro music class by totally acing the theory placement exam! :D Thank you, high school choir classes!) After graduation, I will hopefully be completing a 2-year conservatory program for musical theater so that I'll be ready to hit the stage as soon as I'm done with school. Boston Conservatory has a nice 2-year program, as do a variety of schools in New York City.

Why not study theater at Pitt, you ask? Well, I don't know how much you know about Pitt's theater department, but it's pretty much stuck in the basement of the Cathedral of Learning. That's just how much they care about us. The major description itself admits that it is preparation for further professional training, not immediate entry into the professional world. Besides, if I were to start on a theater major with music minor now, I would definitely have to take a fifth year, and I feel like time's a-wastin' as it is. I don't want to spend prime years of my life that I could be performing sitting in a classroom, ya know? Better to focus on music now and then on acting, I think. Plus that way, even if acting falls through, I'll still be a well-trained musician (and writer).

Meanwhile, I'll be auditioning for shows in Pittsburgh. There are definitely a couple of places where I could get paid, and others where I could not, but the important thing is to start building my acting resume and gain auditioning experience. Ideally, I'll be able to get an Equity card somewhere and start working for real. Next summer I hope to get a job in some amusement park's performing troupe, in which case I'll be taking my gen ed classes online. Or maybe I'll go back to Disneyland and audition to be a Disney princess. ;)

So, that's my story. The timing has been a little crazy as far as interfering with finals week and some personal issues, too, but ultimately, it's been the most exciting decision of my life. And I'm happy about it. I look forward to the future with such hope, such joy. I feel like I can do anything, be anything that I want. And it feels great. :)