When Irish Eyes Are Smiling

There's a tear in your eye and I'm wondering why
For it never should be there at all
With such power in your smile sure a stone you'd beguile
So never a teardrop should fall
When your sweet lilting laughter's like some fairy song
And your eyes sparkle bright as can be
You should laugh all the while and all other times smiles
So now smile a smile for me

I'm going to Mystery Dinner Theatre tonight and you aren't!

Last night, I had the most awesome dream ever. Seriously, this sounds like a story I'd make up. (I'm gonna make stuff up to fill in the holes):

It was set in medieval times (the time period, not the place). I was in a castle at a ball or something. And this one guy was my protector (he's a random person my dream made up). He was the protector of one of my beautiful friends too. Well after dancing a bit he seemed to fancy her a bit more, so he left me to be with her and I was all sad because I liked him but he liked her. So I sit on the couch-like apparatus and look all sad. Another guy runs up to me and informs me that I am needed to go on an urgent quest to save the queen.

So I, along with two knights (in shining armor may I add, if ya know what I mean) choose my weapons from a pile. I choose the first weapon I see, a long, shiny sword.

We begin our quest through a dark cave tunnel that looks mysterously like the tower of terror at MGM. Our first challengle arrives when a bad guy pops out from around a curve and we have to defeat or get past him. Well, the knights narrowly manage to escape, but I am left behind to deal with this guy by myself. And of course I slash him straight through with my sword, and we passed through the tunnel with no trouble.

After we exit the cave, we walk a bit until suddenly a huge dragon flies down and attacks us. This dragon is big, black, and mean lookin, and it doesn't breathe fire--it spits darts. Along with the claws, teeth, and other assorted weapons of destruction on this guy, he is a force to be reckoned with. And he seems to only want to kill me.

He spits his darts at me, and I manage to sidestep away. We all battle, the knights helping me as much as they can. I thought I was a goner when the dragon spit his darts at me, and I knew I wasn't going to get away in time; luckily, one of the knights jumped in front of me at the last second and used his shield to stop the darts (it was at that moment that I realized that a shield really would've helped me on this quest. I probably should have gotten one. Oops!).
The battle rages on. The dragon lunges towards me, and this time I know I am a goner. But yet again the dragon's plan is foiled; it turns out that both knights had been behind the dragon, holding him back by pulling his tail.
"Now is your chance!" they say, "Slash him!"
And I slash the poor creature again and again. Finally, it falls down with a heavy thump, and I knew we were victorious. And that I owed my life to those two knights, who put their life in danger to help save me.

Then I woke up. And I was mad because I wanted the dream to keep going. I wanted to finish the quest. Most of all, I wanted to be by those two knights once again. Now those are some real men, not the fake real-life cowards I see now.
And seriously, I was so HARD CORE in that dream. I killed a dragon and singlehandedly defeated a bad guy. I was even called on a quest because I was so awesome. Seriously.

When I picked up the phone to talk, I was in a good mood.
Gradually, that good mood soured through incessant commands and reminders throughout the conversation.
"Make sure you do this." "Did you do this?" "Do this now."
Actually, it wasn't even a conversation. The only words I said were "okay" and "yes."
And now I'm in a bad mood.

Cracker Barrel seems like it's going to be a good place to work. They don't rip off their employees, and they are legal in everything they do. They don't have very many stupid policies, and when you are working you get food for half price. Yay.

I am making a duet book because I know all the duets in my other book way too well. There are SO MANY duets on the sheetmusic CD. It's CRAZY!

Hmm, what should I do right now. Oh I have nothing to do I guess I'll just have to practice some more.

Cincinnati put me on their waiting list.

I'm 18, jerks.

Orientation for Cracker Barrel pt. 1 today. It was sweet. I got paid for sitting around, filling out forms, and eating samples of new food. And watching some dude from Astronaut get owned by a girl.

State solo and ensemble tomorrow. Luckily, I haven't had much time to practice my solos or rehearse with the ensemble in the last few weeks, so it should be good. Also, with my time change came a judge change: instead of playing for the flute prof. from UF, I'll be playing for Mr. Bishop, a saxaphone player. Yess!
I'm SO lucky!
(carrot lover)
Yup.

There is something else going on tomorrow, nothing you guys should bother yourselves about.

I TOTALLY bought the Uakti CD from flute world. Contrabass flute ahoy!

Yes, I am feeling immature tonight. I am a teenager after all.

Jesus Christ is risen today!

Today, I saw a firefly. It was flying around my car. Almost like it wanted to bring me love.

Many are called
Few are chosen

Tonight on my minidisc I recorded myself playing one part of a really awesome duet. Then I transferred the sound onto the computer so I could blast it out of the speakers. Then I played the other part along with it. I played a duet...with myself.

Advice to those who think that this idea is just so awesome that you just have to try it yourself:
1) Use a metrenome when recording
2) Count off when recording
-and-
3) When playing along, turn the volume up really loud or else the balance will be off

I know, I know, I'm more awesome than you, you don't have to tell me.

Dear Joachin Anderson,
I regret to inform you that etude number 4a in your book, 24 Etudes for the Flute, op. 15, is the worst etude I have ever played and that I hate it.
However, I like all your other etudes. 4a appears to be the black sheep of the family.
Sorry buddy.
With love,
Ashley

I got rejected at Juilliard.
What a surprise.

In the words of Monica:
Boys aren't zen.

Expression is relative. Let's say that a sextuplet (sixtuplet?) is written on a page, and a musician gives it an expressive ritardando and ends up playing the notes like they are sixteenths. Okay. That's expression.
Now let's say that in that same spot, the composer decided to write the notes as a sixteenth on the page. If the musician continued to play the notes as sixteenths, he would no longer be giving the music expression, he would just be playing the notes as they are written. Now, to give the music expression, the musician may have to give even more ritardando or something.
And that is why expression is relative.

One of the sounds I remember from the very earliest part of my life is the click of high heels on the floor. My mom used to wear high heels every day to work, and I never wore anything that made that kind of sound on the ground, so I ended up associating the click of heels with adults. Forever, the click of shoe heels will remind me of being an adult.

Today I woke up and my head hurt like so much. I didn't want to go to school but my mom made me.
And then I failed a test. I had to work SOOO late last night, I mean I didn't get home until, like 10. I don't know how everyone expects me to find time to study.
And then I got into a fight with my friend over her stupid crush.
And the guy I like ignored me. Oh woe is me.
And then I ate 12 candy bars and gained 10 pounds. I'm so fat.
And then I spilled my lunch all over myself.
And then my pants ripped during my presentation and all the stupid preps laughed at me. They are so immature and stupid.
And when I was walking to my car a bird used my head as target practice. Why do things like this always happen to me? Why am I the only unlucky person in the whole world?
And then my car wouldn't start. It had run out of gas, and since I used the last of my money up to get that $50 lipstick, I couldn't buy gas and a friend had to drive me home.
And then I came home saw that my parents found out about my secret. Why are they snooping around all the time? Why can't they just leave me alone?
Now I have to babysit my stupid sister. She is SO annoying.
I just don't care anymore. I am SO over everything.

SONG LYRIC
I love him
He is the best person ever
And he hates me
And I should kill everything
Especially his girlfriend
Ohhh
I wish he would pay attention to me
Ohhh
I am in agony
without him
I love him
Love love loove
Ohhh



(For those of you who didn't notice, none of this is true. It's me making fun of stuff. I know, I know, I'm mean. Deal with it.)

Would you rather eat a cookie or a hot dog?
Cookie

Me: Just shut up, brain. It's over.
Brain: Easier said than done

I want to meet myself. That would be cool.

I don't like when people are sad.

A lot of my old friends did really well at the state gymnastics competition! It was in the newspaper. Now they are going on to regionals, and who knows after that...

::knock knock::
Me: Hello?
Wagner: "I AM WAGNER"
::Wagner stays in house for the next two years::

I haven't been writing much because, well, not a lot has happened in the last few days for me.
The Kellys gave my parents this Jeopardy board game and we've played it every night since we've gotten it. My dad knows a lot more things than you'd think he would.
I also went shopping and found a prom dress. It's very nice, but I had my heart set on a cotton candy pink dress this year, which it is not. Oh well.
No Sarasota trip for FSYO :(

These nights that I spend with my parents...talking, playing games, watching tv or home videos, or just hanging out...I am going to miss these nights. I am going to miss having dinner with my parents every night, being able to talk about my day, every day. Getting opinions. Having them be proud of me when something goes well. I'm going to miss that.
I know that in college my parents will still be there for me. But I won't be there for them. It just won't be the same.

Today someone said something to me and then said the exact opposite thing to someone else. I know this because I was standing nearby when this person talked to the other person. In both cases, this person said these things to not do something this person was supposed to do. That is called lying. Lying to get your way.
This alarmed me. Does this person even know that he/she is lying to get his/her way?
Don't be a jerk, guys. Don't lie to get your way.






Let it be

"All piccolo players are arrogant"
I got indirectly owned today.

I think Charles Dickens is my first favorite author (I had not formerly identified one).

::World blows up::

Spring break is going to be okay, I guess.

I saw Zach today.

When I am by myself, I allow myself to appear sad. The only person it brings down is myself. When I am with people, I do not allow myself to appear sad. If I did, the sadness would consequently travel to others, and I would be the carrier. I don't want to be responsible for that, so I try my hardest to always be happy around people.
The end.

Today I ate a lunch consisting soley of sugar-based products.

"Don't leave the table until you gain ten pounds."

YESSSSSSSSSSSS

It was a good night; I am happy.

You wouldn't believe how many times per day the words "Don't be a jerk, Ashley" run through my head.
And every time I hear those words, I decide to not be a jerk. And it makes me happy. For a moment.

P.S. I just erased something I was going to write because my brain said, "Don't be a jerk, Ashley." Seriously.

My parents said that when they were in high school, everyone went to senior prom with a date or else they didn't go at all. People didn't go with friends back then. It's good that things have changed.

Are people good or evil? It is a question I have struggled with throughout my life. I have clean evidence for both sides (evidence based on life experience, understand, and through observation). I just don't know.

In my whole life, these are the accompanists I have played with:
Mr. Krienes
Dan K.
Mrs. Lowe's sister
Mrs. Aymond
Mrs. Clew
Linda Mark
weird guy at FSU
Thank you, accompanists! I appreciate you!

------------------------------------

Years ago, I used to think to myself, "I have the best life in the whole world" and truly believe it. This is true. I tried my very hardest to appreciate everything--everything!--that I could possibly be appreciative of. And I would pray to God every night, thanking him for these things, these blessings. Every night. This is true. And who is to say that I didn't have the best life in the world? I was happy, close to God, successful in everything that was important to me. In everything that mattered in my little sphere, I had the most.

Thinking about all that, I think, made me a much happier person, as well as helping me grow closer to God. It's amazing to realize what is in this world around you, what you have to be thankful for, it really is, and you'll discover this once you try.

However, I am now an adolescent, not as appreciative as I once was. It's funny because there are more Christians, more talk of religion and God and Jesus, more Bible reading in my life right now than there ever was before, and yet I feel like I am not as close to God as I could be. I feel that I need to bring back that child-like devotion and dependence. I once believed that if I didn't pray for something, then it wasn't going to happen. So I prayed a lot. For everything. For health, for success, for safety, for happiness. I prayed for it all. This is true.

Something is just missing right now. Yes, I have grown immensely in faith; yes I have learned a lot about Christianity; yes, I am perhaps more holy in my actions than before. But that child-like dependence is just...not what it used to be. And I miss it. I need it. I can't do anything by myself, and I want to realize that again. Everything I have has been given to me, and I want to realize it again. I have the best life in the world, I want to realize it again. I'm trying to struggle through life on my own, and we certainly know that just won't do. I need someone to lean on. And we all know who indeed that person is: Jesus Christ.

Simon: "In a competition full of hamburgers, you are a steak."

I have something to say to all you Copland-haters out there:

Give him a chance. Have you ever even tried to listen to or like Copland's work? It's actually quite pleasing. You cannot even dare to argue to me that his works are boring: full of color, sweet melodies, 4 part rounds, and tons of energy, his works are anything but boring. Why do you not like Copland, tell me? He's tonal and mature.

And hearing just one or two or his works doesn't cut it...by far. And playing just one or two of his works in a student orchestra is even worse. "I played Outdoor Overture and it sucked so I hate Copland." Come on guys! You have a brain! Use it! Give him a chance and listen to some of his other works. My favorite so far is from Billy the Kid. Try listening to that.
And yes, I do like Hoedown from Rodeo, because I feel that it has a lot of energy, and I do like Outdoor Overture, because it reminds me of when I played it at Cannon, and I do like Buckaroo Holiday from Rodeo, because I like it. But those aren't even his best works.

Appalacian Spring! One of the cornerstone pieces in orchestral literature! Have you ever even heard it? I don't mean have a conversation with someone while it's playing in the car..I mean have you actually sat down and listened to it? If you did, I bet you would like it.
And don't you dare complain to me that the shaker dance melody in it is overused. For one thing, he puts it in a new context so that it seems fresh again (in my opinion, it is the best use of that particular melody I have ever heard). For another thing, it's only like 5 minutes of a 36 minute piece. For another thing, it's a good melody; that's why lots of people use it. Lots of people use salt in cooking, would you say to me that salt is overused?

And please please don't use the excuse that Copland=Mr Ryon. That has got to be the worst excuse ever for not liking something. "Well Mr. Ryon likes Copland so that means I hate it!" Seriously.

Often when I'm listening to Copland (like right now), I say to myself, "How could someone not like this?" and then I think to myself, "they could not like it because they haven't given it a chance, that's how."

I just don't like when people judge things when they haven't even given them a chance. Open your minds, live a little, and you will find that you actually do like Copland and his works. Once you have tried to like him and you still don't, come back to me and tell me why. Maybe I'll be more understanding then. It just drives me crazy that such a great composer is so vastly underrated and underappreiciated.
Long live the work of Copland!

Tomorrow's propoganda lecture: Hovanhess!
Just kidding!

Isn't it lovely to have somewhere to call "home?"

Uneventful day, blah blah blah...
I am tired.
I wish college people were still here.

Schwindt: "Why does this section always fall apart?"
Me: "We would stay together if everyone followed me."

Eyes: We wanna be closed!
Brain: Quit your yappin, jerks

Prokofiev, you rock.
Prokofieff, you rock.

Really good conversation last night. Some interesting questions came up.

How do you make a really good, true, close friend? What are the ingredients?
Furthermore, how do you make a friend..period?
Why do certain people like certain types of music while others don't?
Which composers from our day are going to be remembered?
Are there really any musical genuises anymore?
Why do we always think the past is better than the present?
Why are things like playing with a slinky, twirling in a swivel chair, and smashing objects into little pieces so satisfying?
Why do we get attached to some posessions and not others?

There's nothing like a good conversation, I'll tell ya that.

I am quite sure that I am the worst basketball player in the entire world, and I would bet on that. Seriously.

I love you.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, SHANNON!
I hope you had a fun SAT!

I was hired at Cracker Barrell.Or Barrel. Or Barell. Sort of.

Today I decided to not practice in second block. Instead, I sat and added random comments to the conversations going on in the office while simultaneously playing freecell. It was fun and relaxing.

It is not enough to just avoid sin. You have to live for God, live for Jesus, that is enough. Sometimes I find myself not doing anything technically called a sin, but I still find myself feeling like I could be living better. And that's why: I find myself, at these times, living for the world. Living for myself. Okay, okay, I'll admit, I find myself living for the world or myself a lot. It's something I need to work on. But I consider not living for God a sin in itself, is it not? Therefore, when one doesn't live for God, he is committing a sin anyway. So there you have it.
For example: I read a book. A novel. But what could I be reading instead? The Bible. I am not doing anything wrong, but it's still not enough. You guys probably think I'm crazy. But I know what I'm talking about.

Pray for Emily. Please.


Fish?

Dude, honey baked ham! Sweet!

Wow. I don't have much to say. This is so great, the whole having time thing. I forgot what it was like. I can actually choose the activity that I do right now. Who could ask for anything more?

Yesterday I forgot my lunch and so I bought a full lunch. I wasn't expecting anything too great, but I got a meatball sub, and it was delicious. Much better than my crummy sandwich (get it, crummy? Wakka wakka) would've been had I remembered my lunch. Just goes to show you that you can't always tell at first if an event is good or bad. I thought forgetting my lunch was a horrific, if not deadly, event. But I got a meatball sub and a sugar cookie out of it, and that isn't too bad at all.
Haha, horrific, if not deadly. I crack myself up.

This talk of food is making me hungry. Catch ya on the food side. I mean flip side.

People must think I like being hit in the head with random things. Or they must use it as a form of greeting. Because it sure happens a lot.

How about not being stupid, how's that for an idea?

Saturday I recieved a piece of mail both from NEC and from Cincinnati. But neither of them had anything to do with acceptance or rejection. The Cincinnati one wanted me to shadow or something and the NEC one was annoucing the new flute teacher for next year (priciple of BSO, man.) It's sad when you finally think you're getting an answer and then you are wrong. Ah well. There are worse things in life.

I applied to Cracker Barrel. And Staples. Hooray for money making devices.

Me: Relationships can hurt a lot, can't they, Brain?
Brain: Only if you let them.
Me: It's not a matter of letting something hurt. If I stab you with a knife, it's going to hurt. You can't control pain.
Brain: Not control; ignore. You can ignore the pain and pretend it's not there. That at least will hide you from the world.
Me: And live a life of agony. That's wonderful.
Brain: You really should be talking to Heart about this, you know.

When I want to be happy, I:
Play flute
Listen to Beethoven or Mozart or U2 or Irush
Dance around my room
Act stupid, maybe walk like a robot or like an Egyptian
Pray
Read a book
Watch home videos
Eat yummy food
Exercise
Talk to people who generally make me happy
Think of happy things, like bunnies and flowers and Interlochen
Pretend I am little again
Clean

It's not easy to do those things when you are currently unhappy. But they work.

I like laughing more than most things.

It's interesting how a normal conversation suddenly becomes a good conversation. I wish I could pinpoint the transformation sentence.

The most important people in my life aren't neccessarily the ones I have known the longest (besides the obvious: family, etc). What sets someone apart so that you cannot live without him (her)? I have thought about this. The answer is love. If you love someone, you will think about him even when he's not around. If you love someone, you will go insane having to live without him. It's not the amount of time spent together, not the amount of fun you have experienced around this person, not the quantity of laughter he has evoked, not the attraction of the person, none of these. It's the unexplanable quality of love. It's the love.

Listening to allcounty's Egmont Overture makes me very happy. It reminds me of Dr. Marosi. I love you, Dr. Marosi!

Nobody really wants to hear about New York, right?
Okay good.
Well, I will say one thing.
I had real New York pizza
and it rocked.

Why is scratching your head a symbol that you are confused? Is it supposed to mean that you are scratching your brain? If so, how would scratching your brain help you be less confused? Or maybe it's like massaging your head, and it relaxes you and helps you find an answer. But scratching isnt exactly the same as massaging. Or maybe it's a symbol. I don't know. Wow, my grammar has gone down the drain.

If I put my hand in hot water, I won't realize until a moment later that my hand hurts. At that point I will quickly withdraw from the heat, but as soon as I pull my hand away, the pain increases. It gets worse for what seems like eternity, until it becomes truly unbearable (depending on how hot the water was). It seems strange to me that the pain increases after my hand is ouside the water, or the source of pain. But it does.
The pain eventually goes away. The whole process occurs only for a second, maybe two, but it seems much longer when it happens. If the water is hot enough, it may leave a scar. I've heard that burn scars are the worst kind of scars to have. The skin doesn't grow back, and all painkillers just seep through. Nothing can help.
Don't get a burn scar, because it won't fade away like the others.
Don't put your hand in hot water.

BEACH

College people come home next week!

My auditions are all over!
I mean, it was fun and exciting but it was getting very tiresome. I actually think I made myself sick from staying up late every night to catch up on makeup work and waking up early to catch planes, etc.
I would definitely do it again, yes.
Now I have crossed off two colleges from the list, Juilliard because I'm not going to be accepted there, and NEC because we are not compatible (and I'm probably not going to get enough money to go there anyway).
That leaves three colleges left. Tied for first place are Eastman and Cincinnati Conservatory, and the most reasonable choice, FSU, is not far behind. All three schools are awesome, and I have incentive to go to FSU, as it is going to be more than free.


This week is almost as bad as the last few, which didn't just include the auditions but also solo and ensemble, several recordings to be made, a research paper, lessons, two colds, a scholarship competition, and, um, school. Did I go to school? I don't remember.

I will tell you about Juilliard and New York sometime, but I have a lesson right now so I must go.