tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-74570714125162209032024-03-13T06:18:07.852-04:00WWW Hanna's BlogHannahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05132968952943980733noreply@blogger.comBlogger255125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7457071412516220903.post-26244434777201800852014-12-31T15:13:00.000-05:002014-12-31T15:13:02.741-05:00[Insert Stereotypical New Year's Post Here]<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I know that I don't often use this blog anymore, but some things just don't fit on my new blog and this is definitely one of those things. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">It’s that time of year
again: a time full of reflection on the past year and promises and resolutions
for the next.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Looking back on this year
at first glance, I didn’t see a whole lot of life-altering events for me and my
family, which surprised me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And then I
thought, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Hanna you kind of moved two
hours away from home into an apartment. </i><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And then I realized 2014 has actually been a
pretty big year for my family and me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I
guess throughout my 18 years, I have come to associate life-altering events
with death.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I hate that it is possible
to be so young and feel so old.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Not in a
self-pitying way, but in a “what happened to being a kid?” kind of way.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-9Y_B-loMBXc/VKRDaRlUDtI/AAAAAAAAB7k/A_PkbekCP0g/s1600/DSC_0814.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-9Y_B-loMBXc/VKRDaRlUDtI/AAAAAAAAB7k/A_PkbekCP0g/s1600/DSC_0814.JPG" height="132" width="200" /></a><span style="font-family: Arial;">This year has been a year of firsts, in a lot of
ways.</span><span style="font-family: Arial;"> </span><span style="font-family: Arial;">We marked our first new year</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">without my dad, the first Valentine’s Day (would have been Dad and Lisa’s 10<sup>th</sup>
anniversary) without him, the first spring break without him, the first
memorial day without him (and every other summer holiday he loved), my brother
and my first birthday without him, Sophie’s first birthday without him, our
first summer vacation without him, our first family trip without him, Dad’s
first birthday in heaven, our first back-to-school without him, and the one
year mark.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Looking at that list and
knowing that it’s not all-inclusive is painful.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>There are so many little moments in the course of the last year that
weren’t spent with him that I can’t even begin to write about.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-BoWxLgf3BBw/VKQ5yrYjW0I/AAAAAAAAB6s/4xmfzsl5RlA/s1600/10570532_690272041066625_5608955328114515943_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-BoWxLgf3BBw/VKQ5yrYjW0I/AAAAAAAAB6s/4xmfzsl5RlA/s1600/10570532_690272041066625_5608955328114515943_n.jpg" height="150" width="200" /></a><span style="font-family: Arial;">But despite all of that, this year has been mixed with a
lot of good things, too.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My brother and
I graduated high school.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We started
college.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I got a tattoo.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My brother got a girlfriend.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Sophie started 2<sup>nd</sup> grade and took
some horseback riding lessons.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Mom has
become a person she didn’t know she could be.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>We all have. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">Yes, we’ve cried this year.</span><span style="font-family: Arial;"> </span><span style="font-family: Arial;">Yes, we’ve hurt this year.</span><span style="font-family: Arial;"> </span><span style="font-family: Arial;">Yes, we’ve seen heartache and tragedy this
year.</span><span style="font-family: Arial;"> </span><span style="font-family: Arial;">But we’ve also laughed this
year.</span><span style="font-family: Arial;"> </span><span style="font-family: Arial;">We’ve loved this year.</span><span style="font-family: Arial;"> </span><span style="font-family: Arial;">We’ve survived this year.</span><span style="font-family: Arial;"> </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">I know that 2014 has been an awful year for some of my
friends.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I know that each of us have our
own mountains to climb and that some of us are continuously knocked back down
to the base by avalanche after avalanche.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>And maybe that summit is an unobtainable goal, ever extending higher and
higher.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But where we are on our mountain
doesn’t matter.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Where we’re going
doesn’t matter.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>What matters is that, no
matter what, we keep climbing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">At the dawning of 2014, I posted a picture that I’d found
on Pinterest that read “May your coming year be filled with <b>magic</b> and <b>dreams</b>
and <b>good madness</b>.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I hope you <b>read some
fine books</b> and <b>kiss someone who thinks you’re wonderful</b>, and don’t forget to
<b>make some art</b> – write or draw or build or sing or live as only you can.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And I hope, somewhere in the next year, you
<b>surprise yourself</b>.” – Neil Gaiman. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">I still think that this is one of the most perfect things
to share with people at the beginning of the new year.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s not about making promises to yourself
that you may or may not keep, it’s about reevaluating who you are and realizing
your worth.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A new year is about setting
yourself free from the bondage of the previous year, about carrying the good
things over and leaving behind the bad.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">My 2014 was filled with <b>magic</b> – I felt it in the music I
listened to, in the friends I’ve watched play said music, in a simple, sincere
hug, in the eyes of my baby cousins, and in the cool autumn air.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’ve felt magic in very big moments and some
of the smallest moments.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-J3IizZ32V08/VKRCnk14GWI/AAAAAAAAB7c/Vyy6tBzh920/s1600/gradme.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-J3IizZ32V08/VKRCnk14GWI/AAAAAAAAB7c/Vyy6tBzh920/s1600/gradme.jpg" height="200" width="132" /></a><span style="font-family: Arial;">My 2014 was filled with <b>dreams and good madness</b> – I went to Chicago with friends, I
graduated high school, I got a tattoo, and I started college (and got through
the first semester with a 4.0!). *notice the picture of my dad around my neck and the stars & stripes Converse on my feet :D*<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">In 2014, I did <b>read some fine books</b> (not as many as I’d
have liked) and I didn’t exactly <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">kiss </i>someone
who thought I was wonderful, but if family and cheeks count, I guess I can
cross that off the list, too. ;) <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">In 2014, I didn’t forget to <b>make art</b>.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I wrote – as much as I could, anyway.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I created a blog (shameless plug here <a href="http://heledford.wix.com/hannaledford">http://heledford.wix.com/hannaledford</a>
) in order to share what I wrote. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">And in 2014, I <b>surprised myself</b>.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This one could be a bit personal, but did I
mention I got a tattoo? ;) All kidding aside, I surprised myself in a lot of
ways.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’ve learned that I’m a clean
freak, that I can cook more than I thought I could, and that I know who I am
and what I want – for the most part.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Not
every way in which I surprised myself was a good thing, but it’s still a part
of me. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">I guess I will leave you with this:<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><b>It’s okay to hurt</b>.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That’s something that a very good friend of
mine has to keep reminding me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s okay
to hurt and it’s okay to fall apart sometimes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>But what is not okay is to let the things that have hurt you and that
have made you feel like your world is falling to pieces consume you, destroy
you, and swallow your happiness. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There
is good all around you, even in this twisted and often dark world we live
in.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There is greatness, there is beauty,
and there is love.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You just have to
choose to see it.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">Happy New Year, friends and family.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I hope that 2015 brings you every dream come
true.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If 2014 was the worst year of your
life, know that 2015 has to be better.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Also know that you are loved by so many, most likely including me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If 2014 was a great year for you, make 2015
even greater.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">Do something for others this year, my friends.</span><span style="font-family: Arial;"> </span><span style="font-family: Arial;">Do something to make this world a better
place.</span><span style="font-family: Arial;"> </span><span style="font-family: Arial;">Spread light and love instead of
darkness and hate.</span><span style="font-family: Arial;"> </span><span style="font-family: Arial;">Shine on.</span><span style="font-family: Arial;"> </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">Hi, if you're still reading this! The last little bit of this post was inspired by a song by a good friend of mine. I know that if you're friends with me on any form of social media or if you just by chance habit this blog, you've heard of him. And I know that it might get annoying and/or old hearing/reading about him and his music, but if on the off chance you'd like to hear the beautiful song that inspired the whole "spread light and love" and "shine on" part of this post and the mantra that I somewhat live by now, I would be glad to share it with you. :) Here's the <a href="http://youtu.be/PDNB-NojrFE" target="_blank">music video for the song</a> which you can <a href="http://www.ryansimpson.bandcamp.com/track/love-light-limited" target="_blank">purchase and download here</a>. </span></div>
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Hannahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05132968952943980733noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7457071412516220903.post-81335077883571654422014-07-25T15:12:00.000-04:002014-07-25T15:12:31.522-04:00Ryan Simpson ~ Closing Doors<div style="text-align: justify;">
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">So in just shy of a year, I have made two blog posts. Both have referenced Ryan Simpson, one of them being a <a href="http://wonderfulwritingwebsite.blogspot.com/2013/07/ryan-simpson-free-of-shackles.html" target="_blank">review</a> of his album, <i><a href="http://ryansimpson.bandcamp.com/album/free-of-shackles" target="_blank">Free of Shackles</a></i>. And, at the risk of acquiring a restraining order, this is another album review for the lovely Ryan Simpson's new album <i>Closing Doors.</i> I will first start out by saying that I have waited (very impatiently) for this album since Ryan started recording in October 2013. I have begged and pleaded for its release and any spoilers I could get my grubby little hands on. And, because he's my friend or because he's afraid of me (I still haven't decided which), he graciously kept me semi-satisfied until he released it May 16th. </span></div>
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-_Sn2vrFrk90/U4YLTlNigoI/AAAAAAAAB3E/SJI8wJj9TH8/s1600/DSC_0386.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-_Sn2vrFrk90/U4YLTlNigoI/AAAAAAAAB3E/SJI8wJj9TH8/s1600/DSC_0386.JPG" height="320" width="214" /></a><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Since I purchased my copy of the album, I have listened to nothing else <i>(which is a small lie now as Ryan kind of took forever to put the digital version online)</i>. Any spare moment I've had, his music has been playing. It is playing as I type this. He has "sung me to sleep" every night since I downloaded it onto my iPod and has woken me up every morning while I'm getting ready. Which sounds a lot creepier than it is. My point is that I am completely and utterly obsessed and in love with this album <i>(this, however, is still fact)</i>. I have been bursting at the seams to share my thoughts and adoration for this album, but I wanted to wait until he had the digital version up for download so that I could link to it. <a href="http://ryansimpson.bandcamp.com/album/closing-doors" target="_blank">SO CLICK HERE TO DOWNLOAD CLOSING DOORS!! </a> (p.s. the digital version is only $5!!) </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Ryan Simpson's potential could be clearly seen in his first album, <i>Free of Shackles.</i> I loved it and was very proud of him for it, but to see how much he has grown as an artist and a musician in such a short time has completely amazed me. If I loved <i>FoS</i>, I am in awe of <i>Closing Doors.</i> (He has also cut back on the profanity so I can now play it more freely and share it with more people without having to check if small children are around. ;) ) I am so incredibly proud of Ryan and I promise you that this review is not me trying to kiss his butt or boost his ego. He's already my friend so I have no reason to do that. The opinions expressed here are my true and honest opinions. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b><u>Overall Impression:</u></b></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Having been going crazy with anticipation practically since I "met" him (the album has been in the works since before then, but he started recording in October), I was a little worried that I was too excited and would be let down. But the other, rational, parts of me remembered that I'd heard "Lullaby Rain" when he put it on <a href="https://soundcloud.com/ryan-simpson/lullaby-rain" target="_blank">Sound Cloud</a> in January and was amazed, and that I knew Ryan and he wasn't the kind of person to do anything half-way. It was surreal finally getting to listen, I remember I was too excited to press play. But I quickly got over that and listened to the album in its entirety in one sitting late that night. Overall, I was impressed. He has grown so much in such a short amount of time and I am truly proud of him. From an outside perspective, I would say that his songs are chilling, passionate, and heartbreaking, if a little dark. I would urge you to <a href="http://ryansimpson.bandcamp.com/album/closing-doors" target="_blank">purchase this album</a>. I said that <i>Free of Shackles </i>was the best $10 I'd ever spent, but I think I may stand corrected now. (I paid $10 because I got a hard copy. Both <i>Free of Shackles </i>and <i>Closing Doors </i>are only $5 for the digital versions now!!) </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">**Oh, and by the way, this album, again, is all Ryan. He wrote, composed, and recorded everything on this CD himself (with the exception of "Rotten;" see below). Just gonna leave that there.**</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">*Again, as always, these opinions are my own. If you don't want "spoilers," do not continue to read.*</span></div>
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<span style="color: blue; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b><u>"Gaze Into the Lens"</u></b></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><b>"Have you read the news today? Far and wide the voices cry through the camera lens, we roam and run, but cannot hide."</b></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">This song took me awhile to fully grasp. Ryan had specifically built up a lot of anticipation about this song. It gives me chills to know how true this song is. It's a song about government surveillance, a subject that far too many of us are willing and content to overlook. I chose the lyrics above to highlight the song because it absolutely freaked me out. In my English class this year we did a unit on government surveillance in relation to <i>Hamlet</i> and that was what I kept thinking about with this song. I know I keep saying that this song gave me chills, but I don't know how else to describe this song. It's scary to me how much we, as a society, have become content to let slide. But that is neither here nor now. </span></div>
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<span style="color: blue; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b><u>"Lullaby Rain"</u></b></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><b>"My heart is racing as I struggle to stay sane and I pretend I'll be okay and I listen to the lullaby rain as it dances on the rooftop I hear it sing your name."</b></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Where do I begin with this song? I feel like I have neglected it since I got the album because I listened to it so many times when he released it back in January. I love this song. As you listen, it's like you can feel the rain and the storm brewing. It's absolutely fantastically heartbreaking. The lyrics paint a vivid picture, something I've always admired Ryan Simpson for is his ability to use words effectively. I love the way this song progresses, as if the persona is getting stronger and, perhaps, even moving on from this heartbreak. Oh, and there's thunder in this song. Can we just take a moment to appreciate this? </span></div>
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<span style="color: blue; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b><u>"A Company of Isolation"</u></b></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><b>"I stand before the mirror resigned to my fate that one day I'm gonna pack it in, but, for now, I'm gonna keep on living."</b></span></div>
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-cDYz2147Buw/U4vqKEH67JI/AAAAAAAAB4w/pkcAGkabJm8/s1600/DSC_0230.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-cDYz2147Buw/U4vqKEH67JI/AAAAAAAAB4w/pkcAGkabJm8/s1600/DSC_0230.JPG" height="133" width="200" /></a><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">This song is my life. I want to just quote all of it, but it's far better heard than read. I had a hard time choosing my favorite lines to put here, but I chose the ones above because they empower me each time I hear Ryan belt them out. This song is the first song of Ryan's that has ever made me cry the first time I heard it. Some of his songs from <i>FoS</i> now have that affect on me, but because they have come to mean certain things to me. But this song gives me hope. Some nights you don't see the point of going forward, some nights you feel like you have nothing and no one left. But you have to keep rowing (Yeah, I just connected this song to "Viet Song." I'm sorry, it's my favorite.). Ryan's vocals in this song also truly impressed me. The lyrics that I have quoted above are belted out in such an empowering and passionate way that it makes me believe the words. I also was blessed to hear Ryan play this song live and acoustic and he truly impressed me with it.</span></div>
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<span style="color: blue; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b><u>"Punish Me"</u></b></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><b>"Wipe that smile off your face, it's too late to change what you've become. The song is sung, I'm over this charade, you've punished me enough for today."</b></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I. Love. This. Song. Okay, so I love most of them. But this one is fantastic and so totally perfect. It so perfectly describes that relationship (in whatever capacity) that we've all had where the other person changes so much that you can hardly see in them the person you grew to care for. It hurts you and it (pardon my French) pisses you off because you know they're too far gone to ever come back to you. Life changes people - other things change people - and it's not always for the better. "Punish Me" is about that. And it's just perfect. </span></div>
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<span style="color: blue; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b><u>"Captive"</u></b></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><b>"Just breathe my baby, come to my arms, don't speak, let me hold you, I will never let you leave."</b></span><br />
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-O-XDFCfDqaA/U4vplqAd7II/AAAAAAAAB4o/xaYtokt16ho/s1600/DSC_0231.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-O-XDFCfDqaA/U4vplqAd7II/AAAAAAAAB4o/xaYtokt16ho/s1600/DSC_0231.JPG" height="133" width="200" /></a><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">By far the creepiest thing Ryan Simpson has ever done. He knows this, I'm not being a jerk. This song is just dark and disturbing. It's still beautiful, but wowza. The song is rather long and a good portion of it is instrumental, which usually isn't my favorite thing in the world, but it works with this song. The song continues to progress and the music tells a story of its own - there are also sound effects in there that are hauntingly amazing. It works, really well. This is the type of love story you want to avoid, just in case you were wondering. In the case of this song, the girl won't let go of the guy and because of that he cannot continue to live - whether that's physically or figuratively is up to you. </span></div>
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<span style="color: blue; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b><u>"No Clear Divide"</u></b></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><b>"There's no clear divide between us after all, nothing left to hide it's written on the wall. You can't reach the highest peak without a fall. There's no clear divide between us after all."</b></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">If I had to pick a favorite song on this album, this one would probably be tied very closely with "A Company of Isolation." If Ryan were to release a single from the album, this would probably be my pick. It sounds like something you would hear on the radio (and Ryan, that's not meant as an insult :P ). It is very professionally done and is just an overall great song. To me, this song can be about an personal relationship or humanity as a whole, which I like. I like songs that are versatile and can be applied to many aspects of my life. It is also about feeling the weight of broken promises and hopes that did not come to fruition. Memories, feelings, and words haunt you and it breaks your heart. This song is just so beautiful and so well done. This song made me really, really proud. </span></div>
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<span style="color: blue; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b><u>"Rotten"</u></b></span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Dan Connaughton</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">This beauty is an instrumental jam that Ryan composed with the ever amazing bass player, Dan Connaughton (rhymes with "rotten"). Ryan and Dan played together during Ryan's tenure with the Scotty Bratcher Band and, since his departure, I have missed seeing them play together, so this is a nice thing to have. This song is such an awesome mix of styles and feelings and it's just beautiful and filled to brimming with awesome. I have a really hard time talking about an instrumental song, so you should just go listen to it for yourself. </span></div>
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<b style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><u><span style="color: blue;">"Sifting Through the Remains"</span></u></b><br />
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><b>"And all this time, through all this pain, I just wanted to fix things. But things just are the way they are, the way they'll always be, and though I see you've found someone new, I don't blame you."</b></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Before I talk about this song, I want to talk about how Ryan Simpson delivers this song. I have never, ever heard such conviction in an artist's voice as in this song. It is heartbreaking and truly brought tears to my eyes. Moving on, "Sifting Through the Remains" is about that place we've all been - the end of relationship you so desperately wanted to work out, but it just can't. And no matter how much you wanted it to and no matter how much you realize that it won't, you're still left wondering what to do now. You truly are sifting through the remains of your life and trying to put pieces back together. And it sucks and it hurts and it breaks you, but it is what it is and there's not much you can do to change it except accept it, pick yourself up, and keep moving forward. *I apologize for the brief deep-ish rant there. This song got to me, too.*</span></div>
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<span style="color: blue; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b><u>"Stop. Rewind. Press Record"</u></b></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><b>"True salvation is just learning to cope with this uncertainty."</b></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">For some reason, I have struggled to think of what to write for this song. I have literally been putting it off for days and have justified it because Ryan has yet to upload the digital version of his album. I don't know why this song has given me so much trouble, I really like this song. I guess it's because it's not about just one thing to me. It depends on what you're looking for as to how you take it. It's about conforming to a set of ideas or beliefs without necessarily wanting to or believing them for yourself. It's about wanting to preserve who you are - or preserve those you care about - and keep from taking on ideas and opinions as your own without making your mind up for yourself. This could be religion, but it could also be many other things. Though the "baptize me in the river" line points mainly at religion, there are many types of baptisms (I would go on because, you know, the future English teacher in me wants to explain how baptism doesn't always mean baptism and it's not always a religious thing, but I'll spare you because this is about Ryan's song). It's also a song about empty promises or hopes that fall short. It's about how absolutely nothing in this life is certain but uncertainty and that could be the most important thing to understand. Nothing we know or believe is completely set in stone. I mean, the world was once believed to be flat, after all. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Side note: I love this song more than I thought I did. Good job, Ryan.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Oh, also, at the end of this song there are angels singing. Ryan corrected me when I called them angels and told me they're really the voices of a choir from another country (I can't remember which?), but I'm calling them angels. And then for about 4 minutes, there's the sound effect of a tape rewinding. I don't listen to it every time, but when I do it's pretty cool. It intensifies and it's just really neat. Give this song a listen. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Please consider purchasing Ryan's music online at RyanSimpson.bandcamp.com. If you would prefer hard copies of the CD's, I have provided links to various pages from which you can contact Ryan Simpson and arrange something. Hard copies are $10. </span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">He thinks he's funny.</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I feel like this review was a little (read: much) more biased than that of <i>Free of Shackles</i>. But, you guys, I just think Ryan Simpson is an amazing musician. If you've seen him drum, you know that his talents are immeasurable, but when you hear his solo music you can see that his talents are also innumerable. I truly believe that he is capable of so many great things, he just needs the small push (read: swift kick in the pants) to put himself out there. Please aid me in this endeavor by supporting him and his music. I am so excited to see what the future holds for Ryan Simpson.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">You can find him online at:</span></div>
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<li style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">http://www.ryansimpson.bandcamp.com</span></li>
<li style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">http://www.reverbnation.com/ryansimpson </span></li>
<li style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">http://www.soundcloud.com/ryan-simpson</span></li>
<li style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">http://www.facebook.com/ryan.simpson.5201 <b>(personal Facebook page)</b></span></li>
<li style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">http://www.facebook.com/officialryansimpsonmusic <b>(artist Facebook page)</b></span></li>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Fantastic job, Ryan. I am so incredibly proud of you, my friend. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">P.S. I don't know if I mentioned it or not, but you can listen to and buy both of his albums <a href="http://www.ryansimpson.bandcamp.com/" target="_blank">HERE</a></span>Hannahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05132968952943980733noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7457071412516220903.post-80012854741735889902014-01-31T20:44:00.000-05:002014-01-31T20:44:49.575-05:00Just Listen<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I realize how long it's been since I last posted anything here; my last blog post seems like it was a lifetime ago - but yet seems like yesterday. So much as changed since that last post about the ever lovely <a href="http://www.ryansimpson.bandcamp.com/" target="_blank">Ryan Simpson</a> and his amazing album. <span style="font-size: xx-small;"><i>As much as I'd like to go on and on about how much I adore Ryan's music and update you all on his upcoming album (<a href="https://soundcloud.com/ryan-simpson/lullaby-rain" target="_blank">wink, wink</a>), I actually have a point to my post today. Well, maybe it's not a point. It's more like a musing, I guess. </i></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Over the last few months, I have learned that you can never take a person at face value. How they look, what they say, and how they seem is rarely the true story. I'm guilty of this. I put up a wall and rarely let people see behind it. I'm not sure if this is a good thing or a bad thing, necessarily, but it is, well, a </span><i style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">thing</i><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">. People do it. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">But what's sad is that most of us (including myself) are so caught up in our own lives that we don't stop to really </span><i style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">look</i><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> at a person; to really </span><i style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">listen </i><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">to a person. There's always a hidden message, something that they don't want to admit but that they </span><i style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">need </i><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">to admit. There are a thousand explanations behind an "I didn't get much sleep last night," or an "I'm sorry we haven't talked, I've just been busy." But we're too rushed, too overwhelmed to ask anything further. We don't stop for a second to ask a person about their life - in any amount of detail, anyway - we just move on and keep going through life only knowing the face value of a person. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">And the fact of the matter is, at that point, we don't know that person at all. There are stories that that person hasn't told you: regrets and fears and joys and heartbreaks and passions that you have no idea exist. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">We don't just do this to people, we do this to everything in this world. We are content to overlook the everyday wonders that we have before us. We don't stop to think about how amazing it is that I can sit in my bedroom in Small-town, Ohio and type a message on my phone or computer that can reach my cousin half a world away in Germany. A message that not that long ago, in the grand scheme of things, would have taken weeks or months to make that trip now only takes seconds. Or how about the fact that I can go outside, get in my car, and be at a grocery store in five minutes and get anything I need. And if the grocery store doesn't have it, I can take my pick of any of the near-by stores to find it. That doesn't exist everywhere in the world - and it hasn't always existed. We take it on faith every day that when we go to brush our teeth in the morning, the water coming through our facet is going to be clean and sanitary. If you think about it, that's kind of amazing. But you know what I think is really amazing? That I woke up this morning. That I'm alive. Maybe there's a reason, and maybe there's not - who am I to say one way or the other? But I know that not everyone woke up this morning. And not everyone will go to bed tonight. I might be getting older every second of every day and eventually that's going to suck, but that's a privilege that is denied to far too many people.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">We are so fortunate to be given the gift of another day. Some days it doesn't feel like a gift so much as a punishment, but we have been given the opportunity to </span><i style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">live.</i><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> But many of us are not living; many of us are just going through the motions to make it through the day. We're only living life on the very surface of it, but there are so many things we're missing out on because they lie deeper. Deeper often means outside of our comfort zone. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Sometimes, though, you need to take a step back and look at your own life. Seriously, </span><i style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">look</i><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> at it. Look at the people you have, the things you have, the love you have. If you don't like something? Change it. If you won't change it, stop complaining about it. On any given day, I can read through my Facebook stream and see nothing but negativity. I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but we all have it a lot better than our Facebook posts suggest. We make small things into big things to the point where when a big thing truly happens, we can't appreciate it. We can't cope with the bad "big things," and we can't truly celebrate the good "big things." We are conditioned to overlook and neglect the beauty in life - and in everything in our lives. And life, although sometimes twisted and heartbreaking, </span><i style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">is </i><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">beautiful. Because life is music.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Sure the songs are usually more of a "Bohemian Rhapsody" than a "<a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Tzb5QABCmak" target="_blank">Her Majesty,</a>" but not always. More often, life is compared to a book - unwritten chapters, unknown endings, and plot twists that will make you dizzy. But life, to me, is music. There are crescendos and decrescendos; there are a mix of extremely fast and slow tempos; there are high notes and low notes; there are times of lyrics and sometimes our lives are purely instrumental. I mean, how many of us have "soundtracks" for our lives? All of</span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> us. Don't try to deny it. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">When is the last time you put on your headphones, turned the volume up, laid back, closed your eyes, and just listened to the music? There is something so powerful about doing that; it's like you feel the music inside of you. It's one of the most amazing things to me, that humans - ordinary humans - can create such amazing magic with words and an instrument. It's one person's feelings leaving their body and finding their way to <i>your</i> heart, to <i>your</i> soul. And sometimes, they mirror your own.</span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Too often, though, we are content to not listen to our ow</span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">n mus</span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">ic. We get stuck in a daze-like state where our ears just skim over the lyrics and music and we only get the face value of it. We don't try to break the surface and dive deeper.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">When you read a poem, you don't just read it once and move on knowing what it means. You re-read it and re-read it and analyze it and dissect it. You dive in in order to understand it, to appreciate the beauty of it. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">With music, you don't always have this option. With the lyrics, maybe, but lyrics can only convey so much. With music, you must stop and listen - really listen - to the notes, to the melodies, to the emotion in the artist's voice. Every note tells a story; a melody holds a thousand unspoken messages. From this, you'll see so much more than you did when you only cared about the surface. But you can't do this if you're talking over the music. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The people you should surround yourself with are the people who see the beauty in the ugliest things. These will be the people who see past the walls you're putting up; they'll hear the truth behind your vague statements. These will be the people who know which songs to not talk over. These will be the people who are perfectly content to sit beside you in silence and just listen to the music. I've had a few of these people throughout my life, and you truly do not realize what they are to you until you no longer have them.</span></div>
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There is beauty in even the wickedest of storms, you just have to look for it. Not to be cliche or anything, but the simplest things truly are the most important. Sometimes we just need to take a step back, put on a pot of coffee, change out of our high-heels and put on our "comfort clothes," kick our feet up, and just be still. Read, write, create, think, reflect, listen to music, something. </div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">What good will it do us to go through this life and never question things, to never look deeper into things, to never take a chance? You only get to ride this ride once, so I suggest you enjoy it. There is no "replay" or "previous" or "next" button on this playlist - you have to take the music that comes. Let go, have fun, take chances, be apprehensive of the future - but don't fear it. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">There will always be people who talk over the music. But sometimes you just need to be with the people who will shut up, close their eyes, and </span><i style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">listen. </i><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Just listen. </span></div>
Hannahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05132968952943980733noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7457071412516220903.post-83504848068115323812013-07-30T17:48:00.000-04:002013-08-09T22:29:03.561-04:00Ryan Simpson ~ Free of Shackles <br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">So, I know that I kind of suck at keeping a blog, but I'll make up for it today. Previously on this blog, I've mentioned the <a href="http://www.scottybratcher.com/" target="_blank">Scotty Bratcher Band</a>. Also, I have previously reviewed books on this blog. Today I'm going to try something new: I'm going to review an album. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Ryan Simpson is the drummer for the Scotty Bratcher Band, but (as I recently discovered) he </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">has his own album of songs he's written and preformed. I purchased his album, <i>FREE OF SHACKLES,</i> this past Friday and listened to it in its entirety (a few times) on Saturday. The music really struck me for a couple reasons. 1) The sound is a lot different than anything I had ever heard him play with the SBB. 2) The lyrics were really meaningful and deep. 3) He had recorded everything by himself, every instrument and all of the vocals on every track. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I decided to review the album for a couple reasons, as well. Obviously, Ryan's a super nice guy, but the main reason, I think, is to help spread the word about his solo music career. Having been a fan of the SBB for well over a year, I couldn't believe that I didn't know he had his own album. Because I'm a literary analysis freak, I'm going to go song by song and give my thoughts, so if you don't want to know my interpretations in order to better form your own, you don't have to read anything but the over-all impressions. Also, you can listen and read the lyrics to all of the songs <a href="http://www.ryansimpson.bandcamp.com/" target="_blank">HERE</a>. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;">Side note: The opinions expressed here are just that - opinions. They are my own take on the songs and music of Ryan Simpson's original songs from his album, <i>Free of Shackles</i>.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><u style="font-weight: bold;">Over-All Impression of Album:</u> As a writer myself, I really appreciated the fact that Ryan Simpson is unafraid to write what he truly feels. It's not easy to put yourself out there in any respect, but to put your thoughts and feelings out there, it's a scary thing, but very admirable. It's a very emotional album and the feelings of the songs definitely come through. It's raw and somewhat heart-breaking in a way that can only be explained by listening to the songs. He's a very talented person - as a drummer, definitely, but also as a writer/singer/guitarist/all-of-the-other-instruments-he-plays-on-the-album. The music is harder and darker than what I normally listen to, but I honestly enjoyed it. If you had to compare him to someone (and that's a very hard thing to do), the closest I could get would be Nine Inch Nails. But overall, BEST $10 I've spent in a long time! </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><u style="font-weight: bold;">"When You Fall"</u> is somewhat a revengeful song (I'm not sure that's the right word, but I can't think of the right one). We all know the type of person that is described in this song, the person who gets really far in life but probably not by the right path. We can't be happy for this person, maybe they betrayed us in the process of gaining their success. This person is seemingly perfect and thinks him or herself to be invincible. This song is about the inevitable fall of a person who believes him or herself to be above others.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><u style="font-weight: bold;">"Jealous Hands" </u> in my opinion, is about a relationship that ended for one person before it did for the other. It clearly shows the hurt of unrequited love and almost gives the feeling of being used by this other person. But what I like most about this song, I think, is that it comes full circle and isn't just about grieving over a broken heart; we all have to get over heartbreak and this song shows that you have to kick people out of your life that have hurt you - even if they're already gone. And I think that's something we can all relate to. You can't give someone the satisfaction of ruining your life every day after they've already hurt you once. You have to get back up and say, "I'm stronger than this. You hurt me, but I'm going to find something/someone better."</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><u style="font-weight: bold;">"You Think You Know (But I Promise You Don't)"</u> voiced doubts in religion, which we all have probably had at some point in our lives. No one really knows the answers to the most important questions in life, especially when it comes to religion and what is "right" and what is "wrong." To me, this song conveyed the struggle to put your faith in the unknown. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><u style="font-weight: bold;">"Apostasy"</u> <span style="font-size: x-small;">(defined as: a total desertion of or a departure from one's religion, principles, party, cause, etc.) </span>Knowing the definition, and realizing Ryan has a very large vocabulary because <i>I </i>had to look up words, you could probably guess what this song is about. First, I would like to say that it's an interesting song in terms of sound - I think there might be xylophones? And that's always a plus. There's an obvious lack of trust in this song stemming from needing someone, presumably God, who wasn't there. I felt like the lyrics conveyed a sense of not being heard and feeling abandoned. There was a feeling of disappointment and of self blame for letting yourself believe. Definitely a song about seeking the truth. This song is one of the best examples of Ryan Simpson not being afraid to put his true feelings out there.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><u style="font-weight: bold;">"Cleaner"</u> is a song about corrupt government and society. The people who are in power will never stay in that position, and when we're gone, we are left to clean up their mess. We have to fix other people's mistakes. The song shows the government taking the power away from the people, but also the need for the people to retaliate and take the power back from the government. A very relevant song to today's world.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><u style="font-weight: bold;">"New Low"</u> similar to "Jealous Hands," I felt this song was about an abrupt end to a relationship that one of the two people (the speaker) doesn't want to end. I felt that the speaker in this song felt betrayed by his lover who felt as though there was nothing left in the relationship and thus leaves him with nothing - not even a goodbye, really. He doesn't want to let go of the relationship and isn't able to because of the physical, unjustified and unrequited need for this person. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><u style="font-weight: bold;">"Viet Song"</u> as a history buff, this song jumped out at me when I was reading through the song titles because of it's obvious relation to the Vietcong from the Vietnam War. This song has a beautiful instrumental intro. It's about unrequited love and growing up without realizing it. Often enough, people act like everything's okay, even when it's not. When conflicts are over, people tend to pretend they never happened and push them out of mind. I related to this song because of the feeling of confusion and not being sure of what to do with your life. But I love that this song gives the hope that one day everything will be okay; that one day, your life will be what it needs to be, you just have to push through until it gets there. Maybe my favorite song on the album. It's a little bit confusing, but when I asked Ryan about it, he told me he didn't want to tell me because he was afraid it'd ruin it for me. But that's okay, I like the song anyway.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><u style="font-weight: bold;">"Savior Poison"</u> is by far the deepest song on the album, in my humble opinion. It's a very satirical song about society and freedom. We are free to do as we're told, but are not supposed to question things as they are, just accept them. People do not think for themselves, but is that really freedom? There's a line about the rules being made in the sky, which, to me, references that this country was founded on a Christian platform and the controversial topic of whether or not that's the correct way to do things. The song definitely shows the absurdity of not being yourself but conforming to what society expects of you. To me, the song had a gospel/rock sound to it, which added to the satire all the more. No matter what your beliefs are, I urge you to listen to this song.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><u style="font-weight: bold;">"The Sports Racers Vs. The Hard Chargers"</u> is an all instrumental song. I'm not going to lie, it brought out the air instrumentalist in me. It's a very energetic and all-around fun song to listen to. Would make a great song to pump you up in the morning or while you're exercising (if you're into that sort of thing). </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><u style="font-weight: bold;">"Burning Skin"</u> is also an all instrumental song. It's a more peaceful song than "TSR Vs. THC." It's a very beautiful song. I'd be interested in finding out where the title came from. There's a line about "Burning skin become my face" the last song on the album...Any connection?</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><u style="font-weight: bold;">"Free of Shackles"</u> is probably tied with "Viet Song" for my favorite track. It, to me, showed how an ending can be a new beginning. It makes you search for a purpose and emphasizes that you can't let the bad overtake you. Even though you might not be sure of the future, that's okay. It's okay to wander around and try to find your path in life. There's nothing holding you down anymore now that you're finally free. I think that's what we all have wanted all along. So endings are okay, as long as you move on and learn from them. It's okay to be afraid, because you know that as you continue to move on, you're closer to the good than you are to the bad. I think this song was the perfect song to end the album that is so full of hurt and uncertainty. </span><br />
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-kdekIuQK7jg/UfgUOc20fqI/AAAAAAAABwk/Rref1FEbnbA/s1600/DSC_0400.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="133" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-kdekIuQK7jg/UfgUOc20fqI/AAAAAAAABwk/Rref1FEbnbA/s200/DSC_0400.JPG" width="200" /></a><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">So there you have it. I would seriously urge you to purchase this album and show some support to Mr. Ryan Simpson. If you don't feel like tracking him down at a SBB show, you're in luck! You can also purchase a digital version of his album online where you can listen to the songs and read the lyrics! All you have to do is click <a href="http://www.ryansimpson.bandcamp.com/" target="_blank">HERE</a>! And like I said, it's only $10! </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I'm definitely looking forward to the next album and cannot wait to see what the future holds for this very talented musician! </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>Hannahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05132968952943980733noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7457071412516220903.post-20683015139822049092013-06-11T17:11:00.002-04:002013-06-11T17:11:44.449-04:00Being Lost<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">So, in April of last year I told myself I was either going to blog or vlog every Tuesday, because I really hate Tuesdays and needed something to look forward to on those days. Well, seeing as how my last post on this blog was in January. . . I think we can officially say that I fail as a blogger.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">But that's okay. I don't think anyone really noticed my absence. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">But I do have some updates since we last talked. </span><br />
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<li><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I now have a boyfriend (we've been together for 4 months!) and I'm really happy.</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Scotty Bratcher did end up in the top 100 of the Play Crossroads competition, but, sadly did not win the competition. </span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I finished my junior year of high school.</span></li>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Okay, so in my mind, I felt like there were a lot more monumental things that I needed to tell you. I mean, more stuff has happened in the months since I've posted, but nothing that anyone really cares to know about, haha. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">But I really do have a point to my post today, or at least, I think I do. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I want to talk about direction. And, more specifically, as it pertains to life. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">My birthday is Friday and I will be 17. For some reason, 17 seems a lot older than 16, maybe because it seems so much closer to 18. This summer is my last real summer vacation before college. And that scares me. Because I don't know what I want to do with my life.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I think that a lot of people my age are at this point right now. But the difference between me and them is that they have a plan to some degree and at least think they know what they want. Me? I have no idea. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I always thought education would be what I went to school for and what I did until I reached a point where I could write for a living (assuming I ever get that far). But there are so many changes being made to the education system right now, that I'm not sure I want to be part of that. I want to touch lives and to make a difference to people, but maybe teaching isn't the way to do that anymore. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">In my psychology class, we learned that even at the age of 16, our brains are not fully developed. This means that we haven't fully reached who we are going to be yet. And yet, at the age of 17 or 18, we have to decide pretty much what we want to do for the rest of our lives and what we out of life.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />And personally? I don't feel ready to make that decision. I mean, of course there are dreams that I have - of being an author, or a photographer, or wife of Robert Pattinson - but the realistic part of my brain pushes those dreams aside and tells me to think logically and responsibly. Because some dreams are more likely to fail than others. And some dreams won't support you, financially. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />I really hate to bring money into this because I don't like it when people choose a profession based on the money they'll make instead of whether or not they enjoy the job. But the reality is that you have to be able to make money. You have to support yourself in order to keep doing the job you're doing, or else it's pointless. And if you have a family, you have to be able to support them, too. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">But I want to do something I enjoy, something that matters. But I don't fully know what that is. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Basically, what I'm saying is this: </span></div>
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<a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4XZ12nrz47U">http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4XZ12nrz47U</a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">And that I'm lost. I'm really lost. But I don't even know what I'm looking for. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Maybe, I'm just supposed to be trying to find myself again. </span></div>
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Follow me on Twitter @HannaLedford</div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>Hannahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05132968952943980733noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7457071412516220903.post-80910324818934510592013-01-28T19:20:00.000-05:002013-01-29T16:55:50.217-05:00Dreams<br />
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</span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I want to talk about dreams today. </span><br />
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</span></div><div><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Not your dreams that Freud would tell you mean you like your mom or whatever - those are your own business.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I don't even want to talk about my dreams today, folks!</span></div><div><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; text-align: right;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-GiQCbUWtfn0/UQcTk9NQWzI/AAAAAAAABpU/ohzmLLRe21s/s1600/Scotty_PK_1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-GiQCbUWtfn0/UQcTk9NQWzI/AAAAAAAABpU/ohzmLLRe21s/s320/Scotty_PK_1.jpg" width="212" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My original photo </td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I want to talk about the dreams of this guitar player whose picture is shown above (^). First I would just like to say that you should most definitely click that <a href="http://www.playcrossroads.com/u/scottybratcher" target="_blank">widget</a> up there and go add your name to the list of supporters on the right hand side of the page. It's free and all you have to enter is your name and email address. You don't even have to put your full name. If you don't know about the Scotty Bratcher Band, you should listen to the four tracks listed. Two of them are brand new and the album they'll be on hasn't even been released yet - the other two are from his previous album. But if those four tracks don't convince you that<a href="http://www.scottybratcher.com/" target="_blank"> the Scotty Bratcher Band</a> deserves to win this thing...You should go have your ears checked. If you decide to become a fan (which is advisable...be a hipster, like them before they're BIG!), you can share the link with your Facebook friends and Twitter followers. The more times you do these things, the more times Scotty's Buzz Rating goes up and the more chances he has of being in the top 100 (right now he's at about the 110 mark, as I'm writing this) bands selected by review by judges, who will then pick one group to play at Madison Square Garden with Eric Clapton! So go check it out! </span></div><div><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Now, this relates to dreams of writers, and just people in general. Or I'm going to make it relate. You know, I think that when we are young we have these huge dreams of becoming famous or being an astronaut or winning the presidency. We set our sights on such big feats and don't care that the likelihood of us accomplishing them is very slim. Most of us outgrow these dreams, realizing that they might not be so realistic. But the people that don't let go of their dreams? They see how hard it's going to be to get there. They realize the amount of work it's going to take. They realize they're probably not going to just have it handed to them on a silver platter along with the keys to a Ferrari and a mansion. But mostly they realize that they want it - and that the work that it requires, the strength and determination it requires, is worth it. And these people? These are the people that make it.</span><br />
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</span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">You know, I've read plenty of books and heard plenty of bands that don't get the recognition they deserve. I've known authors who write beautiful pieces and novels and they get swept under the rug by the cliche love/horror/insert-genre-here stories that our society is comfortable with. I've heard songs written by artists (locally and globally) who are not supported enough to make it to radio, mega-tours, and the likes because they do not fit the mold of the pop-culture, boy-band, break-up songs that we, as a society, have adopted as our 'standards,' so to speak. And that saddens me because there are people out there that are so much more talented than Nicki Minaj or Justin Beiber. There are better writers out there than Nicolas Sparks. I mean, I respect each artist because it does take a LOT of courage to put yourself out there for the world, but I think we also need to appreciate the artists that are around us. Because the artists that are not recognized, well-known, or over-played on the radio - those are the artists we should be supporting. Because they're REAL. And more often than not, their music/writing/paintings/etc portray a more relatable side to life than the celebrity-crazed-life-style you'll hear on the radio.</span><br />
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</span><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-HOWACPgSiaI/UQcU-LmUvyI/AAAAAAAABpg/0h6rRXyfA7c/s1600/Dreams2.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-HOWACPgSiaI/UQcU-LmUvyI/AAAAAAAABpg/0h6rRXyfA7c/s320/Dreams2.jpeg" width="212" /></a><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I think there are people you stumble across in the course of your life that inspire you. I'd like to say that it'd be great to find them all at once so that you'd never lose faith in yourself or your dreams, but part of me says that's not true. I think that each person you find that inspires you is planted at a very specific point in your life and it's not until you lose faith in yourself, and water that seed with your tears of helplessness that that person arises to show you what you can do. Whether they've been there your whole life or if you meet them for the first time right when you needed someone else to give you a push, these people are placed throughout our lives to keep us going. I have been so blessed to have these types of people in my life - and I know that if I had met all of them at once, I wouldn't be where I am. I have evolved so much since I first started writing. And if I had met some of them at the beginning of my writing journey, I don't think I would have seen what I was supposed to see as inspiration in them. Whether they know it or not, I draw strength and drive from them all the time, even ones no longer in my life. Because they once inspired me, they always will. It's funny that I depend on these people so much - we, more often than not, depend on the most unstable things in life: relationships, people, feelings, and love. But without people like this in my life, I know that I would have given up on my dreams long ago. And it is because of these people that I know this will never happen. </span><br />
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</span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I don't really know that this post has come full circle, necessarily but I'm hoping it at least made sense. I think it will to some of you. But my main point is we could do something amazing here: we could help an amazing group of guys reach their dreams. And that? That's a something that's not guaranteed to everyone. So please go give the tracks a listen and if you like them, add your name to the supporters list, share the site on Facebook and on Twitter - or wherever you so please! </span><br />
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</span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Scotty didn't pay me to do this or anything, I should mention that. He and his music have done so much for me and my family, I felt like it was the very least I could do. I am not at all kidding when I tell you that there is no one on the face of this earth that deserves this recognition more than the Scotty Bratcher Band. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">So with that, I'll step off of my platform and you can do what you want with this information - those few of you who actually read these things. : ) Hiiiii people. You're my friends. </span><br />
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</span></div>Hannahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05132968952943980733noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7457071412516220903.post-47793418318465830132013-01-15T17:14:00.000-05:002013-01-15T17:14:01.598-05:00Non, je ne regrette rien <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Je ne vais pas ecrire en francais. (I'm not going to write in French - minus some accents.)</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Mais - I mean, but, I do have some important stuff to say. I feel like I've already reflected on HOW I came to writing in January of 2008, but I can't find that post, so remind me some other time and I'll write a more detailed and insightful recounting of why I started writing, other than I wanted to.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">BUT: </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Yesterday - January 14th - was my 5th anniversary of the day I started writing. 5 years! That is kind of weird to think about.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">In some ways, it is hard for me to remember a time when I didn't enjoy writing, when reading was something I was required to do, not something I loved to do. But 5 years...it just makes me wonder how quickly time can go and honestly, it scares me. I feel like the first 3 of those 3 years passed somewhat slowly, but when I got to high school the last few have really sped things up.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I look back upon little (okay, I'm still the same height I was then) 11 year old me and wonder how she could have thought that writing would be "easy." I look back and envy the innocence she had in her thoughts and views on the world and the simplicity with which she could perceive things. But despite this, I am grateful that she had the courage to sit down at her computer one night and start to type having no idea what she was going to write about, but just letting the story find her on its own. If I were to attempt that now? I have a feeling the document would not be opened a second time. But that 11 year old me thought the same thing that night; that she would never come back to that word document. Her curiosity which bred love brought her back. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">And it's exactly that that continues to bring me back. No matter where I go in life, no matter how many times I get pulled away because of life, something always brings me back to writing.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I don't think that I could heal without writing. And maybe heal isn't the right word - I don't think I could cope without writing. When I'm angry or sad or heartbroken, the first thing I want to do (okay, after I stop crying) is write. When I'm happy or giddy or content, the first thing I want to do is write. Somehow all of my emotions find their way to the page, whether they are seen by others or not. A verse here, a line of dialogue there...one day it'll all come together.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Through the 5 years of writing, I have learned a lot about my craft, my style, my beliefs, and myself. I have gone through two computers (I only killed one of them....), a few different versions of Microsoft Word (oh, and Works...that was interesting). I have improved, I have switched genres (a few times), I have broadened my spectrum of things I write in terms of form, and most of all, the love I hold for writing has only grown.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Sometimes in day-to-day life, hobbies get pushed aside, as writing often does. But the important part is that you come back to it.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">And I will always come back to it - until I no longer have to leave it.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Parce que, je ne regrette rien.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Because I regret nothing. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I do not regret falling in love with something so difficult, because I know it's WORTH IT. I do not regret sitting down at a computer in my spare time and creating a world (I have yet to write a story in a completely different 'world' ~ out of state is about as far-out as I breach) from my head and spending time with characters I have imagined that no one else may know about - yet - because, I know it's WORTH IT. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">And that? That's what I come back to.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Happy 5 year anniversary to the 'novel' that started it all in me. Forever on my shelf, you shall rest. Until I have other people living with me. Then you will be hidden away. But I still love you.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>Hannahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05132968952943980733noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7457071412516220903.post-73024719817502877862013-01-08T21:09:00.002-05:002013-01-08T21:09:52.230-05:00First Post of 2013 (I took New Year's Day off)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-size: xx-small;">This post has nothing to do with Mr. Darcy, but Tuesdays suck and sometimes? Sometimes you just need a Daily Dose of Darcy. (OMG that's alliteration!)</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">First post of 2013 - and it's actually on time! (Don't become too used to that, it probably won't last long.)</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I'm writing this post a little bit in advance, though, because I'm thinking I'm going to be busy on Tuesday. Also, I am doing everything I can to procrastinate and not do the reading I was supposed to do over break. I'm sure I'll get it done. . . eventually. Before Monday. Maybe. It'd just be so much easier if Hawthorne would just spit out what he wanted to say. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">That could actually, somewhat, seg-way into my talking point today. Which, believe it or not, is actually writing related for the first time in a long time.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Over this break, I've had a lot of inspiration to write. From movies I've watched or books - actually, only one book - I've read, I've found myself really wanting to write. But as soon as I pull up the word document, I feel like I have no idea what I'm doing. I know where the story is going, but the words are trapped inside my finger tips. It's frustrating.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">And it's not even just my big project. It's poems, too. I have so many little verses on sheets of paper that have no accompanying verses. Things that pop into my head are written down and then when I re-visit them to make something out of some of them, I get stuck.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I don't like being stuck.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I really don't like not knowing how to get un-stuck.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I've talked to writers who'll write over 5k words a day. Me? I'm lucky if I write one sentence. Most days? Unfortunately, most days I don't get to write at all. I try to utilize breaks from school to accomplish things, but with family time and homework and everything else that needs done, I feel like it's not getting anywhere.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />And I'm not writing this to sound ungrateful. I'm am so grateful that I love writing, that it is my dream and what I want. And I am willing to work for it, don't get me wrong there, either. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Maybe it's because I haven't found the right story yet, or maybe it's because I'm at the beginning of the story I'm trying to write. The two most terrible parts of a story to write are the beginning and the ending. It's either setting everything up or taking everything down, and making sure all ends tie together into a nice and pretty red bow.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">And even though it's a first draft and I'm only like 13 pages into it? I kind of get all panic-y and I don't know why. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">So writers - writers of any kind - do you struggle with this? What do you do to break through writer's block? And what keeps you motivated when writing? </span><br />
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Hannahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05132968952943980733noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7457071412516220903.post-89569000885021913052012-12-31T10:24:00.002-05:002012-12-31T10:24:32.470-05:002012 Recap<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I really have mixed feelings about re-capping this year. It's been a pretty crazy year, and, sadly, I'm not sure if it's for the better. I lost some people I loved dearly this year. But at the same time, I've had some great times with family this year. So let's start at the beginning, shall we?</span></div>
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-2bnIwekLSbI/UODG2CtoCAI/AAAAAAAABlY/Phgp5Qw5vXo/s1600/Tyler+McNabb0017.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-2bnIwekLSbI/UODG2CtoCAI/AAAAAAAABlY/Phgp5Qw5vXo/s200/Tyler+McNabb0017.JPG" width="133" /></a><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>January:</b> New Year's day came as it usually does and was, for me, again a solemn occasion. Since Jimmy's death, it has seemed the new years are not good things, but rather scary things. I can't quite explain that one, but it's another year he won't live in. The change to 2011 was the worst, but last year still felt like too much change. A friend of mine made promises to me that night that less than two months later he failed to keep. It's a little bit scary to me how much changed within the first three months of 2012. Looking back, I wish I would have enjoyed New Year's Eve more than I did. I didn't know it then, but it would be the last time I saw my Uncle Drew. Five days into the new year, my dear family friend, Harry, passed away. Harry was one of the first people to support me in my writing. He always cheered me on and would write me letters telling me to never give up. I have one of those letters framed now. It is still weird to think I'll never see him again - although, I know that he is no longer in pain. My "Drunk in the Walker" as I came to jokingly call him, will now support me from Heaven. On the 7th, my family and I had a surprise Welcome Home party and escort for my USMC cousin who had just returned home from Afghanistan. It was a great day. I believe I have recapped it somewhere on this blog, so I won't say much. Around the 21st, my cousin got engaged to his wonderful girlfriend and they are due to be married this coming year. And, of course, I got my camera in January of last year.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>February: </b>February was pretty quiet. My baby cousin turned one on the seventh and we celebrated his first birthday the following weekend. My friend, Abby, and I went to Winter Formal which will probably never happen again. Hardly anyone we knew were there. The 28th marked the one year anniversary of me writing Catch Me - which is sort of on hold - and that's about it.</span></div>
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-WZ9PMElbxnA/UODHY2Ba1VI/AAAAAAAABlk/GBMj9wh-NTo/s1600/IMGP2484.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-WZ9PMElbxnA/UODHY2Ba1VI/AAAAAAAABlk/GBMj9wh-NTo/s200/IMGP2484.JPG" width="200" /></a><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>March: </b>Easily the worst month of the year. I wish this month had never happened. On March 7th, my Uncle Drew was in Louisville, Kentucky, doing a comedy show. That Wednesday night, he called my grandma (his sister) and told her he'd been having chest pains. She finally convinced him to go to the hospital and out of humor, he decided to go to the Jewish hospital because he'd "always wanted to go to one of them." He didn't know it then, but that hospital was the only hospital anywhere near him that had the machine that kept him "alive" until his family could get there. Thursday morning, my mom's phone rang as I was putting on my make-up - it was the ringtone reserved for my grandma, who I knew was never up at 6am. I was told that he was in the hospital, though I didn't understand my mom when she told me. I thought she was talking about another uncle that had been sick that I didn't really know. It wasn't until we were going out to the bus and my dad was talking about it that I figured out it was Drew. I went to school that day heartbroken and scared to death. But we didn't know how serious it was then. Friday night, I went to Kentucky to see him in the hospital. It's something I don't like to think about - I don't want to remember him that way. But my Uncle Drew passed away that Saturday, the 10th, around 3:20pm. His services were the following week - the week of my Ohio Graduation Tests. I didn't do as well on those as I probably could have. The rest of the month was pretty uneventful. My grandparents came home from Florida after having been gone for 3 months.</span></div>
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-1gPn3zSONBI/UODHxVY2Y_I/AAAAAAAABls/VzB_1sSghsQ/s1600/103_2679.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-1gPn3zSONBI/UODHxVY2Y_I/AAAAAAAABls/VzB_1sSghsQ/s200/103_2679.JPG" width="200" /></a><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>April:</b> The month started with spring break and on the 5th, the friend I've had the longest came over and we went to see The Hunger Games. That night we had a talk that was long-over due and I think we both realized we shouldn't let people drive us apart. On the 11th, my dad and Uncle went to see <a href="http://www.scottybratcher.com/">Scotty Bratcher</a> play at a benefit they had for my Uncle Drew. Scotty was a good friend of Drew's and I met him the night of the visitation. Out of everything that happened, meeting him and becoming a fan of his music is probably the only plus other than realizing how precious my family and life is. That night, Scotty broke a guitar string, which my dad brought home to me. It's hanging on my wall as a reminder that even though sometimes we break, we have to keep playing. On the 14th, I spent the night at my Nana's and we watched movies until the early morning. The 17th marked two years since I had seen my cousin, Jimmy. On the 20th, I went to see Scotty Bratcher play for the very first time with my aunt, uncle, and brother. It was a great show, I just couldn't see anything from where I sat (there was a wall-type-thing in the way). On the 21st, I went to the Ohio State spring game with my cousins and my brother. I love it there. </span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">On the 28th, I volunteered at the Walk for Lupus, celebrated my cousin's birthday, and I stayed over at my Uncle Drew and Aunt Mickie's house and babysat their two boys.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>May: </b>On the 9th, I presented the first SGT James C. Robinson Memorial Scholarship (<a href="http://www.shabooms.org/">Shabooms</a>) at the school Jimmy graduated from. On the 11th, I went to see Dark Shadows with my friend, Emily. (Which was the last time I've seen her!!!!!!!!! Not cool.) On the 24th, Jimmy would have turned 29. The last week of May and into June, I had my final exams for my sophomore year of high school.</span></div>
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-yaSITaeLvR0/UODNyvSChdI/AAAAAAAABm0/h1XS31keHmU/s1600/Pam+and+Sasha.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-yaSITaeLvR0/UODNyvSChdI/AAAAAAAABm0/h1XS31keHmU/s200/Pam+and+Sasha.jpeg" width="155" /></a><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>June: </b>Sophomore year ended uneventfully and the following week I started the class room portion of Driver's Ed. Six days of Driver's Ed first thing in the morning. It wasn't fun. On the 8th, my Uncle Bill (who I had thought had been the one to have a heart attack in March) passed away. We left for Myrtle Beach on the 10th and I turned 16 on the beach (well, actually, I turned 16 inside of the Ben and Jerry's ice cream shop) on the 14th. We left the following day and on the way home, I was told that my cousin in Kentucky had been in a motorcycle accident. Pam died that night, leaving her daughter, Sasha. My heart broke knowing the pain of losing a mother - and knowing it had to be worse having had about 19 years with her mom. Uncle Bill's memorial was the following day. The 17th was Father's Day and my dad, my brother, and I went to Cincinnati to see Scotty Bratcher play at a Father's Day celebration that was going on. On the 18th, my sister turned 5, but I was on my way to Kentucky that day (and was very sick) for Pam's services on the 18th and 19th. It was good to see people I hadn't in years, but not under those circumstances. On the 22nd, I saw Abraham Lincoln, Vampire Hunter with my dad and brother. On the 23rd, we had the 2nd Annual Shabooms Ride, which was a great day. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>July: </b>Not a whole lot happened in July. On the 21st, we had a motorcycle ride for Drew and raised a lot of money for his two boys' college funds. Some of Drew's comedian friends performed and so did Scotty Bratcher.<b> </b>On the 29th, we had a SGT Jimmy night at a local bar that opened its doors to us on a Sunday and let us have music, food, etc. </span></div>
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-lmvnmmAmbwI/UODJah3RFDI/AAAAAAAABmA/oq8EDjNiagA/s1600/DSC_0942.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="133" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-lmvnmmAmbwI/UODJah3RFDI/AAAAAAAABmA/oq8EDjNiagA/s200/DSC_0942.JPG" width="200" /></a><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>August: </b>The 3rd of August marked two years since my Granny died. I left two roses on her grave for the two years she'd been in Heaven. My family and I went to a Scotty Bratcher show that night, as well (what can I say? He's pretty good.) On the 4th, my daddy celebrated another birthday and I left with my brother and cousins for my family reunion in Kentucky. It was a great weekend and I had so much fun. It was so great to see some of my rarely seen cousins all together. On the 19th, we had a pig roast and car show for Jimmy's scholarship fund. It was a great day filled with music from <a href="http://www.justusrocks.com/">Justus </a>and Scotty Bratcher - their time was completely donated by them and we raised a good deal of money for the fund. It was probably my favorite fundraiser we've ever done. I started school the following week and began my junior year of high school. Which is still crazy to me. On the 28th, we honored Jimmy's second angelversary. </span></div>
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-AY0RwKCLyoA/UODJv3_5xwI/AAAAAAAABmI/iUcyOiyRzMc/s1600/mom6.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="133" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-AY0RwKCLyoA/UODJv3_5xwI/AAAAAAAABmI/iUcyOiyRzMc/s200/mom6.jpg" width="200" /></a><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>September: </b>Of course in September I recognized the anniversaries of Jimmy's homecoming and services in a post <a href="http://wonderfulwritingwebsite.blogspot.com/2012/09/two-year-reflection.html">here</a>. I also cut ties with a previous friend, as reflected upon <a href="http://wonderfulwritingwebsite.blogspot.com/2012/09/starts-with-goodbye.html">here</a>. On the 7th, a family friend, my "adopted brother," deployed to Afghanistan. On the 13th, another one of Jimmy's friends deployed to Afghanistan. On the 14th, I recognized what would have been my Mommy's 49th birthday. That night, my family and I went to see Scotty Bratcher play and my friend, Elizabeth, went with us and fell in love with Scotty's music. On the 22nd, my cousin turned 5. </span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">On the 26th, my dad bought us our first car (a yellow 2000 VW Beetle) and on the 28th we picked it up. I started in-car on the 29th. I also lost my Jimmy button in the car that day, but thankfully, my instructor found it and returned it to me.</span></div>
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-8q3DUoMe1AM/UODKRDaJ0iI/AAAAAAAABmQ/0aN3__3nWKs/s1600/DSC_0711.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="133" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-8q3DUoMe1AM/UODKRDaJ0iI/AAAAAAAABmQ/0aN3__3nWKs/s200/DSC_0711.JPG" width="200" /></a><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>October: </b>On the 6th, I went to homecoming - which was fun. The 8th marked the 13th anniversary of my mom's death. The 9th would have been my parents' 30th wedding anniversary. On the 13th we had a bonfire which was attended by some misc. people and was super fun. On the 15th, I got to meet <a href="http://johngreenbooks.com/">JOHN GREEN</a> thanks to my wonderful friend, Abby (I recapped that <a href="http://wonderfulwritingwebsite.blogspot.com/2012/10/i-will-be-elephant.html">here</a>). On the 18th, my school offered REDO day for my class (respect everyone despite odds). It was such a great experience, I just wish people would keep the attitudes we all left with that day. On the 23rd, I found out my Uncle Junior was in the hospital. He was in for a week or two, and is now home, but is still sick. And then, of course, on the 31st was Halloween, although the local trick-or-treat night was on the 30th. </span></div>
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-AqBFsrSJYhw/UODKkpjKXqI/AAAAAAAABmY/VfsCXzd8WmQ/s1600/DSC_0887.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-AqBFsrSJYhw/UODKkpjKXqI/AAAAAAAABmY/VfsCXzd8WmQ/s200/DSC_0887.JPG" width="133" /></a><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>November: </b>In this month I set out to participate in NaNoWriMo, which didn't go at all well. On the 2nd, I went to <a href="http://www.leannareneehieber.com/">Leanna Renee Hieber's</a> book signing for The Twisted Tragedy of Miss Natalie Stewart. It was lovely to see her, as always. On the 10th, we had the 2nd Annual Spaghetti Dinner for Jimmy's scholarship. Not only was it a great night in which I got to see my friends, family, and some of my "adopted" relatives (two of the guys that served with Jimmy and another guy's dad), we also raised a lot of money that night and hopefully a lot of awareness. It was a great night full of love, laughter, dancing ( :D ), and wrapping paper fights. It was a rough night emotionally, but I really realized how far we've come, how much farther we can go, and how loved Jimmy will always be. He will not be forgotten. The following day was Veteran's Day and I got to spend some time with three former military men at Jimmy's grave. On the 16th, my friend, myself, and our moms went to see Breaking Dawn: Part II on release night. It was bitter sweet to see the series that inspired me come to an end. That night I posted on FaceBook: <i>"</i></span><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 17px;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i>So don't judge me here, but Twilight was the first book to inspire a love for reading and a curiosity for writing in me. Say what you want about the book, its author, or its movie adaptations, but it is rather bitter-sweet to see the series come to an end. I will never forget what it did for me because who I am and where I'm at today is partially thanks to Stephenie Meyer and her dream-inspired series. Which, coincidentally, inspired dreams of my own." </i>On the 19th, I was honored and privileged enough to be inducted into National Honor Society. It was an oddly emotional thing for me because for the first time in my life, it really hit me that my mom - and Jimmy - would never be there for the important events of my life. Of course Thanksgiving soon followed and I got to spend time with my family - I actually had a lot of family come in from out of state because on the 24th, we got to celebrate my Great-Great-Grandma's birthday. She turned 100 on the 25th. Also on the 24th, OSU beat that team up north. So, you know, good day. The 29th would have been Uncle Drew's 48th birthday, so that was a hard day. We went to the cemetery for a little bit. I think that was definitely a day when things really sunk in. </span></span></div>
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-KXw4WUCptno/UODLAr1dxPI/AAAAAAAABmg/_XaI8mv9YdI/s1600/104_3064.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-KXw4WUCptno/UODLAr1dxPI/AAAAAAAABmg/_XaI8mv9YdI/s200/104_3064.JPG" width="200" /></a><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b style="line-height: 17px;">December: </b><span style="line-height: 17px;">I just want to say that this recap is going nearly as fast as this year did. On the 6th, my baby cousin turned 2 - which is impossible to believe. On the 8th, my Great Aunt and Uncle came in town and we went to the cemetery with them to decorate Mom and Jimmy's graves for Christmas. On the 12th (yes 12/12/12) I got my license! On the 14th, my mom, her friend, our cousin, my dad, and myself went to see Scotty Bratcher and the<a href="http://www.dannyfrazierband.com/"> Danny Frazier Band</a> at a local bar/bowling alley. It was such a great show. I hadn't planned on staying for the whole thing, but my dad and I ended up being there until the show was over and then some. I think we left about 1:30am. On the 15th, I got to see some of my family from Hazard, however briefly as I had had an APUSH class that morning. (Yes, a Saturday morning history class. 8am-11am. Not at all fun. Especially after being out that late the night before. But it was worth it.) The 18th marked the one year anniversary of my USMC cousin coming home from Afghanistan, so that was exciting. On the 21st, the world didn't end, so that was pretty cool. Then I was off for Christmas break and got to spend time with family and friends. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 17px;">And now? Here we are. At the end of another year.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 17px;">My junior year of high school is nearly half-way over. That's a scary thought. You know, when you're little you always think about growing up. How different you'll look, what you'll be, who you'll date, what kind of house you'll live in, and all that kind of stuff. But what you don't realize is how fast you get there. And how different you turn out than what you imagined.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 17px;">If you told 8 year old me that at 16 she would have endured so much heartache, so many losses, have written a full (if not crappy) novel and started a few others, learned so much about life and herself, given up on singing because she realized she couldn't sing, never have had a boyfriend, never been kissed, kept some friends but lost others, and enjoy listening to the Blues, I don't think she would have believed you. I can hardly believe it now.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 17px;">I think every year changes us and teaches us some things. This year has taught me to laugh. To live. I think my personality has changed this year, and I hope that's for the better. My life focuses have changed and I also hope that that's for the better. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 17px;">Every year has its ups and downs, and this year is no exception. I've lost people this year - both to death and to breaks that could not be mended. But I also lived and loved this year. I don't know that those necessarily balance out, but they've both changed me. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 17px;">And as always, I hope it's for the better.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 17px;">Here's to a wonderful New Year!</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #073763; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">p.s. There are several links to various websites in this post. If a musician or author mentioned caught your fancy, please be sure to visit their site by clicking the hyper-linked (and underlined) name. Don't forget to check out their music/books if you do. Scotty, Leanna, Justus, John Green, and the Danny Frazier Band are all amazing people and definitely deserve some more love. They didn't ask me to say this or link them, they just happened to be in my life and make it into my year-end recap. So show 'em some love. Also, the website for Jimmy's scholarship fund is linked where Shabooms is first mentioned, so if you feel inclined to get involved in that or whatever, please do. Happy New Year, y'all.</span></div>
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Hannahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05132968952943980733noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7457071412516220903.post-64788296871595355622012-12-18T16:29:00.000-05:002012-12-18T16:43:22.647-05:00Guns<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I would like to start this post off by saying that it is not about the tragedy in Connecticut. This is in no way aimed at that or making a statement about that. It is, however, in response to the mass flooding of anti-gun law support I've seen on social networking sites. I wish people would stop using tragedies to use them as platforms to voice their opinions or make the event about an issue. The shooting at that school - at any school, for that matter - did not happen because the shooter was against guns so don't make this a gun issue. This is a human issue.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Guns can be good things, just as they can be bad. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Okay, let's start here. People have used axes to chop down trees to build homes, wagons, roads, or to heat their homes. Axes have also been used to kill people. Same with chain saws. Other utensils we use daily that are vital to our every day lives are in the same boat. Cars? Yep. Knives? Yep. Hammers? Yep. Bath tubs and their water? Yep. Electricity? Yep. Food? Yep. Household cleaners? Yep. Fertilizer? Yep. Gasoline? Yep. Swimming pools? Yep. Peanuts? Yep. Shrimp? Yep. Fish? Yep. Chocolate? YEP.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">My point is, nearly anything can be used to kill people - if we're looking at it this way. Things that we use every day that are harmless when used the proper way can be turned in a negative light and used to kill someone. I don't see laws against using or owning knives, cars, or bottles of Clorox. Know why? Because majority of people use these things the CORRECT way. And these things don't kill people on their own. When they kill people, it is because SOMEONE misused them and did bad things with them.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Aren't guns the same?</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">While you could argue their vitality to life, they, as long as used properly, are harmless. If the owner has common sense and doesn't keep the gun lying around the house loaded or the safeties off, no child is going to accidentally set it off. The owner isn't going to accidentally shoot someone of his or herself if they know what they're doing. It is when someone comes along and misuses the object that guns become a problem.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Guns can be used for hunting and providing food that you eat daily. Not only on a local scale, but corporately. How do you think they kill cows before they're butchered? Guns. It's morbid, but it's true. Guns are used to protect you. Cops use them all the time and I don't see anyone complaining about law enforcement using them to protect you law-abiding citizens (who are doing absolutely nothing wrong) from being attacked on a daily basis. And I DEFINITELY do not see anyone complaining about our military men and women having guns and other weapons to protect our country and themselves. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">So why is it such an issue if citizens have guns? Police officers are just normal citizens in uniform with some extra training that other people don't necessarily have and so are military personnel. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Wanting to pass laws against guns will accomplish nothing. The people that do this kind of stuff are not law abiding citizens. What on earth makes someone think that they'll see a gun law or a gun-free zone and think "Oh, right. Darn. Can't bring that here." if they couldn't care less about breaking laws?</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I do understand the point that if guns were not allowed, people would be less likely to use them improperly. But I want to bring up a similar circumstance. Prohibition. When alcohol was banned in the United States of America.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Prohibition originated when a group of Christian women decided that if alcohol wasn't consumed by men, women and children would not be abused. They gained so much support that eventually, prohibition became law. This, like doing away with guns, appeared to be a noble cause. It'd make people safer, healthier, etc. But only when taken at surface level. It's a fine idea, in theory.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">But as a result of Prohibition, an underground market of bootleggers came about. Organized crime grew ridiculously. People got hurt because of it. Because it was suddenly a crime to have and/or consume alcohol, people got hurt keeping it a secret. But the main point?</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">People. Still. Got. It.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">People are more likely to go against something if they're told that they cannot do something. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">But this isn't a gun issue. This is a human issue. There are, unfortunately, always going to be broken, messed up people in this world. It's a sad reality. But what I fail to understand is how in light of recent events, people are wanting to disarm our citizens completely. I don't know about you, but if I was in a position where my life, my co-workers'/family members' lives, or children's lives were in danger I would not want to be left defenseless and hoping that law enforcement would show up in time.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Having citizens who carry is a good thing. Less people will get hurt if A) an intruder or criminal knows that certain groups of people (i.e. school faculty members) carry guns and B) if there are armed citizens who can defend themselves and the people around them and take down the gunman before the police arrive.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">To me? That's worth it. Saving lives is worth allowing Americans to exercise their 2nd Amendment rights. If you don't like guns, don't carry one. But don't take that right from others. Who knows, one of those concealed carry certified citizens might just save your life.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">And on a smaller scale, as a woman I would like to have some sort of defense against a male attacker. You can argue all you want that women can be just as strong as men, but, honey, I'm 4ft 10.5in. I'm not going to be able to take down a man on my own. Especially if he's attacking me. Either having a gun of my own or having a passerby having one could save me (my life, among other things).</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Guns can provide safety and security. Sometimes you don't have time to call the police. And if you do, it could take awhile for them to get there - more time than you have if someone is breaking into your house.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I don't think that anyone could look me in the eye and tell me that they would prefer to be defenseless if their family was in danger. I know that I wouldn't want that. I'd do everything in my power to save as many people as I could. I think allowing citizens to carry guns (after proper training) is a good place to start.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">But, as always, that's just my two cents. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Comments? Leave 'em below. Just be nice. I won't attack you or your opinions, so don't attack me or mine.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;">p.s. Just a side note. Can we please stop releasing the names and photographs of killers? They do not deserve the media attention and "fame." Let's focus on the victims and those left behind. I refuse to give a murderer any of my time or attention - he or she does not deserve it. The innocent people deprived of the chance to live. . . those are the people I will focus on. Their stories, their faces, their names, their memory. Not that of the one who took that from them.</span>Hannahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05132968952943980733noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7457071412516220903.post-88771832524931927312012-12-08T21:55:00.001-05:002012-12-08T21:55:53.619-05:00Terribly Sorry<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I am so terribly sorry that I have not blogged in forever! Life has been so crazy since my last post! I know I said I was going to be better about this, but obviously, I'm bound to fail at blogging.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">It's funny because I feel like I have so many things that I want to blog about, but when I sit down to write the blog, I decide I don't want to. There are a lot of issues I want to talk about, but then I realize how much negative feedback that I will get from people I know, as well as people who would just happen upon this blog. I feel that it is best to keep my controversial thoughts and opinions to myself.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Anyway, not much has been going on in small-town, Ohio, in the grand scheme of things. Just a lot of school work. And more school work. And a lot of sickness. I feel like I can't go a whole week and stay healthy!! There have been so many things going around.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">And I know that you all REALLY care about this, right?</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I think I used to be better at this. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">But, I'm going to post this anyway, just so that my last post date is actually recent! </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I hope you all are having a wonderful start to your holiday/Christmas season!</span><br />
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<br />Hannahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05132968952943980733noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7457071412516220903.post-87694926169242031452012-10-20T16:17:00.003-04:002012-10-20T16:20:10.154-04:00I Will Be an Elephant<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I'm so sorry for the lack of posts the past couple of weeks, things have been so hectic since my last post. But I will make up for it today.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">I've been meaning to write this post for a couple days now, but just haven't had the time. I've also been sick, so I haven't really been in the mood to move, much less write a blog post. But this past Monday, something happened that changed my life.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">I met John Green.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">My amazing friend invited me to the signing a while ago, but the magnitude never really hit me until I got there. In fact, I'd argue that I didn't really realize the reality of it until I was a couple people away from him and ready to hand over my books for signing. I have to admit, I was a little bit afraid to meet John Green. I'd watched his videos for years and loved his books, but I was afraid that in real life he wouldn't be the man I expected him to be.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">Well, in a room full of 1,100 Nerdfighters, in walks John Green who may or may not have been shocked by the number of people who showed up to a book signing on a Monday night in Cincinnati, Ohio. I'm not going to lie, I was completely shocked. I didn't expect there to be that many people because most people I talk to have no idea who John Green is, despite his countless subscribers, followers, and fans. John began to talk and he was just so modest about his accomplishments and popularity. I sat there and yelled (the best I could with a nearly-gone voice), "GOOD MORNING HANK, IT'S TUESDAY!" and was in complete disbelief that I was officially part of a VlogBrothers' video - even if no one would ever realize it. It was just so bizarre to sit there and hear the voice of a man that I normally heard from the speakers on my laptop. John Green's lecture was so funny, I wished I had recorded it. Some of the things he said would have made excellent quotes.</span><br />
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-VzkQ9cQGYuU/UIMDGcCY3PI/AAAAAAAABhU/9RG5-t-uJmo/s1600/DSC_0678.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="133" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-VzkQ9cQGYuU/UIMDGcCY3PI/AAAAAAAABhU/9RG5-t-uJmo/s200/DSC_0678.JPG" width="200" /></a><span style="font-family: Arial;">I sat there and thought about John Green's book, <em>Looking for Alaska</em>, and how much I had loved it when I read it. I read it my freshman year of high school, not long after Jimmy was killed in Afghanistan. I remembered how much the book tore me apart thinking about what, exactly, an "instant death" meant. I remembered how much it struck me thinking that we really did define our lives as "before" and "after" a death. Thoughts of my cousin came back to mind and my mood wasn't the best there for a bit. But then I was reminded of why I loved the book so much. It made me realize <strong>I'm still alive</strong>. I wasn't the one who died in Afghanistan that day, no matter how much I'd wished I was. I was alive, and maybe for a reason. I was living, breathing, loving and no matter how much life without Jimmy sucked, I knew that it beat the alternative. </span><br />
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-K2cXeZ1Mo_k/UIMDliVRnGI/AAAAAAAABhg/zc-MVQRjh0s/s1600/DSC_0687.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="133" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-K2cXeZ1Mo_k/UIMDliVRnGI/AAAAAAAABhg/zc-MVQRjh0s/s200/DSC_0687.JPG" width="200" /></a><span style="font-family: Arial;">As the talk ended, we prepared to wait for our letter to be called so that we could get in line to get our books signed. We got letter Q, so we knew we'd be there for awhile. During the two and a half (ish) hour wait, we all got a little slap happy / sleep deprived. I tend to find myself a lot funnier than I am during these times and thus kept making puns about the letter Q. And then, of course, we found a stray nerd (candy) on the floor, and since we are Nerdfighters, I declared that we should fight it. And, of course, I had to take pictures with the nerd at that point. And then we found another nerd. I think this was one of those things where you just had to be there, haha. It was a lot funnier at the time. Oh, and by the way, I kept those two nerds. But along with the laughs, I grew increasingly nervous to meet John Green - if I had his hair my puff levels would have been extremely high. I had no idea what I was going to say to him. I wanted to say so much, but knew that I couldn't hold up the line. I just wanted him to know how much he had impacted me and my healing process, but I had no idea how to put that to words.</span><br />
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-vokaZ1oSGtM/UIMFA2sU_VI/AAAAAAAABhw/MbDse2VEBYc/s1600/DSC_0711.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="133" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-vokaZ1oSGtM/UIMFA2sU_VI/AAAAAAAABhw/MbDse2VEBYc/s200/DSC_0711.JPG" width="200" /></a><span style="font-family: Arial;">Finally, the Q group was called and we stood in a ginormous line. And finally, it was my turn to approach the table. My earlier fears about him not living up to my expectations were squashed as he was so genuine and nice. He thanked me for waiting the whole time, as if it were more of an inconvenience to me than to him. I told him about<em> Looking for Alaska </em>and how much it meant to me, with the little voice I had left. I became kind of emotional right then as I realized I was actually talking to John Green. I doubt he remembers me, but I hope that he realized how much he impacted me. As I concluded, I grabbed the penny around my neck (a necklace I made in memorial of my mom, whose name was Penny), and said, "And by the way, they're not worthless." Mr. Green smiled and said, "I almost want to reconsider because you're so sweet. But I. . . I still think they're worthless." : )</span><br />
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-vXHoaNMBtBE/UIMFi5IbuwI/AAAAAAAABh4/mDifFu3voGo/s1600/DSC_0721.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-vXHoaNMBtBE/UIMFi5IbuwI/AAAAAAAABh4/mDifFu3voGo/s200/DSC_0721.JPG" width="133" /></a><span style="font-family: Arial;">I walked away from that library feeling so amazing. I looked down at my copy of<em> Looking for Alaska </em>and realized that before I had been bothered by being able to see my finger prints on the book cover. But now I realized that John Green's finger prints now mixed with mine on the cover of a book he wrote and I read. A book that was semi-biographical to him, and life changing for me. And like the marker that he signed my books with, the mark he's left on me is permanent.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">The next morning, after about four hours of sleep, I woke up and prepared for a long day at school. I looked up at the sky that Tuesday morning and the stars were so clear. The air was crisp and the skies were so clear. I thought about those stars on the way to school and wondered how many of them that I could see were already burned out and if that news just hadn't reached earth yet. For some reason, this led me to think about books, and more specifically authors. Some authors' light burns out much quicker than others, but some authors' light continues to burn on for centuries. Shakespeare, Jane Austin, Poe, Homer, to name a few. </span><br />
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-riRtPWDjSgQ/UIMGAAhNV4I/AAAAAAAABiE/AX7Da88rO6U/s1600/DSC_0717.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-riRtPWDjSgQ/UIMGAAhNV4I/AAAAAAAABiE/AX7Da88rO6U/s200/DSC_0717.JPG" width="133" /></a><span style="font-family: Arial;">Writing is something much bigger than I'd ever imagined. Meeting John Green and seeing the insane amount of people that showed up out of love and respect for him showed me that. When I sit here at my laptop and write whatever I happen to be working on, it doesn't feel like I'm ever going to make a difference to someone. Writers don't write with the mindset that they're writing it for an audience. Writers, in my opinion, write first and foremost for themselves. And I think that's what makes books so personal. An author wrote it to do something for them and we can often relate to individuals who have experienced pain. If a book were written strictly for an audience, I feel that we could not as easily related - we need to feel it was written for US, not EVERYONE. </span><br />
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ZpW14p94n_E/UIMGVoSyOwI/AAAAAAAABiM/-pvPi0wMvRg/s1600/DSC_0718.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ZpW14p94n_E/UIMGVoSyOwI/AAAAAAAABiM/-pvPi0wMvRg/s200/DSC_0718.JPG" width="133" /></a><span style="font-family: Arial;">Mr. Green, when asked what advice he'd give to writers, compared being a writer to being an elephant. He said that he couldn't tell someone how to be an elephant, because he doesn't know how to be an elephant, he just is. He's not a better elephant than any other elephant. He made me realize that I always want to be an elephant. So many authors have impacted my life, John Green just happens to rank high on that list. I want to be able to return that favor and if something I write touches just one person the way so many have touched me, I'll be completely happy.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;"></span><br />Hannahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05132968952943980733noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7457071412516220903.post-54607903655874130492012-09-25T20:32:00.003-04:002012-09-25T20:32:50.327-04:00Writing. . . Maybe? We'll see what this turns out to be.<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">So as you probably guessed from the title, I have pretty much no idea what I'm actually going to write about. I kind of forgot to plan a blog today because it kind of slipped my mind that today was Tuesday until just now. So this could be interesting.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I've really been wanting to write lately. Like REALLY bad, more than I've wanted to in a long time. But every time I've sat down to write, I have been unable to do so. I pulled up Chapter 11 of CATCH ME the other day to try to finish it (I've been working on it since about April, probably. Maybe early May), but I couldn't write a single word. And the sadder thing? (that doesn't sound right, but oh well.) The last time that draft had been altered was July 24th or something ridiculous like that. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Writing is an escape for me, a lot of the time. But right now? It feels more like a prison. I feel utterly confined to my story, and I shouldn't feel that way. As I've stated before, I feel that if I do not finish this first draft before moving on to something else, I will be betraying Jimmy. What I wouldn't give to just talk this out with him; pick his brain on the subject.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I remember how it felt to finish the first draft of Solace (at the time titled No Title). It was such a feeling of accomplishment, even though I knew it was terrible crap that I would never let see the light of day again - well, at least, no one else's eyes but my own. I thought for sure I'd be able to get this first draft of CM done within a few months. It was such a personal story, one that I felt needed to be told both for Jimmy and for myself. It was a sort of closure for me that I didn't get from my cousin. But somehow life got complicated and now I find myself. . . uninspired.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I think I might need to just start it over, in order to write it better. I think I didn't distance myself enough from it and made it too personal, too much of what I experienced, that it isn't a story anymore. I need to distance myself, in a way, from Jimmy's character in the story. But I'm confusing myself now.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">So I think this is what I'm going to do:</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">November is National Novel Writing Month (NaNoWriMo). I think in November, I will start a new project, completely different from Catch Me, and see if I can finish it within the month. If I can't, oh well. If I can, great. But the point is, I need to be writing. I need to find my words, for they have failed me for far too long. And, as Leanna Renee Hieber said, "The only writer who's not a writer is the one that's not writing."</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
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<br />Hannahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05132968952943980733noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7457071412516220903.post-31085253404885576562012-09-18T17:22:00.000-04:002012-09-18T17:22:21.025-04:00Starts with Goodbye<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-p9nSgaZa590/UFZEuiTdX7I/AAAAAAAABfw/jQD1VDPkAKY/s1600/Fire.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-p9nSgaZa590/UFZEuiTdX7I/AAAAAAAABfw/jQD1VDPkAKY/s320/Fire.jpg" width="214" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">When I was younger, the first artist whose music touched me was Carrie Underwood. To this day, she is one of my favorites and I still listen to everything from "Wasted" (the first track on her first album) to "Who Are You" (the last track on her latest album). One of the songs that I've listened to repetitively is "Starts With Goodbye" off of her first album, <em>Some Hearts</em>. I listened to this song when Jimmy died because it really hit home. Here's a lyric video for it, if you haven't heard </span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">it.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> </span>
<iframe allowfullscreen="allowfullscreen" frameborder="0" height="315" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/LDsr4etJlwc" width="420"></iframe>
<br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I've never liked the idea of saying "goodbye" to anyone. Even when someone passes away, I don't know that I've ever said "goodbye" because it's always just been "See you later" or maybe it's just because I don't believe they're truly GONE. That's a loaded statement, to say that someone is gone from your life - forever. I guess pretty much my whole life I've chosen not to think about it that way. But my point is, I don't say goodbye to people, not even when they die. I won't say it if I'm leaving someone's house; I won't say it if I'm on the phone; I won't say it under most circumstances. Because goodbyes? Those are final.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;">Last week, though, I did say goodbye to a friend. I've kind of hinted at this situation before on a number of blog posts, but haven't been sure how to address it. I'm still not sure. I do not believe that full details should be disclosed, and I'm writing this in the hopes that people will not ask me for those full details. I like some privacy, and I'm also afraid to talk about this because I'm afraid it will change my mind.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;">I've felt a little hypocritical to miss someone who is still alive and well when there are far too many people that I miss because they were taken from me. I didn't have a choice in that matter, but in the case of missing a friend who lives five minutes from me? I did have a choice in that. That was a constant struggle for me; trying to stay strong and not go crawling back to a bad friendship (which, arguably, could have been a great friendship had it not been built on lies). But these past few weeks (from about the 28th of August through the 9th of September) have been hard. Like, seriously, someone should probably take my phone during those weeks from now on. Last Saturday and Sunday were two of my worst days. With a Fallen Heroes memorial that Saturday and then Sunday being the anniversary of Jimmy's funeral. . . I was pretty low those days. Saturday I managed because I was with my family (most of the day, that night was a different story). Sunday, though? Sunday I felt completely alone. As I was writing my reflection (see previous blog post), I got to thinking again about my friend and how much I missed being able to turn to him without fear of judgement.; how I missed being able to lean on him, knowing he'd be there to listen and be a net when I fell. I decided that maybe I needed to talk to him. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;">I sat at the dark cemetery feeling my soul literally cave in on itself and my heart shatter into a million shards after having tried to repair themselves for two years. My heart broke all over again that night as I thought about Jimmy and how desperately I missed him. I decided that if my friend couldn't see how hurt I was and look past everything we had been through to just be there for me - which was always the most important thing to our friendship - then it wasn't worth fixing. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;">I wasn't sure what I wanted. But my friend wasn't there for me. He replied but our conversation went south very, very quickly and somehow? Somehow we ended up at the end. Which hurt. A lot more than I thought it would. Even though our end had been suspended by a very thin, fragile thread for months (about 7, actually) - and even more so the past month - it still hurt to realize he didn't miss our friendship the way I did; that he didn't miss me the way I sometimes missed him. It hurt to think that this was goodbye.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;">I don't think I've ever had to part ways with someone without having death be the reason. It's very strange for me because it's so <em>final</em>. My friend, whom I once shared everything with, will no longer be in my life. I've known that was a possibility for a good while, but knowing for certain? That hurt. It did. Neither of us actually said "goodbye", not in so many words, but it was still clear.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;">I woke up the next morning hurting. Whether from Jimmy, still, or my friend, I can't say for certain. Tuesday I woke up and still hurt - but it was also 9-11, so my heart hurt for a lot of reasons. But Wednesday I woke up and felt okay. Thursday I felt better<span style="font-size: x-small;"> (except for the fact that my friend deployed that morning)</span>. Friday? Friday I felt great <span style="font-size: x-small;">(except for the fact that it would have been my mom's birthday)</span>. And I still do. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;">Maybe the reason I was in such pain over my friendship for those 7 months (which is astonishing now that I think about it) is because I didn't know what was going to happen. Not knowing is terrible. I think that I needed that closure - no matter how it went. I needed that weight lifted off of me and now when I think of him, I don't feel bitter. I don't feel angry. I don't feel nostalgic or desperate or longing or anything. I just feel. . . relieved.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;">Should my friend read this, I feel I should say some things: I will always care about you. I think that, in a way, I will always love you and miss you. I will always be grateful that you showed me that I could, indeed, be HAPPY again. I will always owe it to you for helping me find another piece of myself - a person who doesn't care what others think of her and a person who's not afraid to go after what she wants; a person who is blunt and honest and doesn't play games. You made me feel special and worthwhile, no matter how long that lasted. You also gave me a gift that no one else has been able to and that. . . well, we both know what that was (and for the rest of you, it wasn't anything inappropriate!). I hope that one day we'll run into each other and we can both smile and laugh about how hot fire is or how terrible movies are that include cowboys and aliens.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;">Monday I woke up feeling as though a new chapter in my life had been started. And I believe that, indeed, it has been. Scared? Yeah. Nervous? Yeah. But mostly? I'm just ready. I'm moving on with my life - I'm a junior in high school. These are the days I'm supposed to be enjoying and living to the fullest. And from now on? I'm going to do that. Because now? I'm ABLE to do that. I once said that moving on is not the same thing as letting go.</span><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span><span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">When you decide to move forward, you can't let go; you have to move
forward with your past experiences being a part of you.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Letting go, though, is not moving forward, but starting over; when you
let go, you release something that was once a part of you and therefore must
start over and become someone else - a completely new person.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And because of this, I will
never let go.</span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">My past does not define me. It composes me.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: x-small;"><em>My friend, you will always be a part of me. Our time together will always be part of who I am because, however brief it was, it molded and shaped me the way anything else does. I do not regret it; nor do I regret our ending. I wish you nothing but happiness, success, and blessings.</em></span>Hannahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05132968952943980733noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7457071412516220903.post-37096193368273785292012-09-09T21:40:00.003-04:002012-09-09T21:40:50.469-04:00Two Year Reflection
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ToV9CA9N4LE/UE1ESvN2FGI/AAAAAAAABfI/cO4Z4hWHLcU/s1600/Sunbury_Cross.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ToV9CA9N4LE/UE1ESvN2FGI/AAAAAAAABfI/cO4Z4hWHLcU/s320/Sunbury_Cross.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>I
seriously have fallen behind this year with my reflections.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I couldn’t decide if I wanted to do a
reflection of August 28<sup>th</sup> this year or not; if I wanted to reflect
on Jimmy’s homecoming and services.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But
I have decided that I really need to.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>On
August 28<sup>th</sup> this year, my family and I gathered at the airport that
Jimmy arrived at on September 6<sup>th</sup>, 2010 for the last time. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>His mom, his wife, his brother-in-law, his
aunt, and two others jumped out of a perfectly good airplane that day in honor
of Jimmy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We then went to the cemetery
and held a candle light vigil for our Hero as we marked the two year
anniversary of his death.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I read a poem
that night and fought back tears.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It
really hit me as we stood there:<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It has
been two years.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Two years that we’ve all
tried to learn how to live without him.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I don’t quite understand how we’ve done that, but what matters is that
we have.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The thing that we thought would
kill us, the thing we thought we would never be able to overcome or move past.
. . we survived that.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I don’t know that
any other term could describe that because that’s exactly what we’ve done.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We’ve SURVIVED.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I wanted that day to last forever because I
didn’t want us to move into the third year without him.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My heart hurt so excruciatingly much in that
moment and I knew that the next day I wouldn’t have an excuse for it to. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I wanted to stay in that day so that I could
let that pain run its course without having to worry how others would view
it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Because I know how I come across to
people, I know that people probably think “She should really be getting over it
by now.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I know that I shouldn’t feel
this broken over my cousin.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I loved him
so much, but I know that I don’t suffer the most.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But that day did come to an end as I talked
to a very special person who assured me I’d be alright because I was in their
heart.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And that?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That’s the safest place to be because that’s
the place that makes you the strongest.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>On the 6<sup>th</sup>
of September I honored the day that my Hero made his final journey home.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We brought him home that Monday morning with
many flags, many people, many tears, and much love.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I already reflected on this day, so I won’t
write much here.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That day weighed
heavily on my heart because I also had to think of my Uncle Drew who rode that
day for a man he did not know – a man that he grew to love that he didn’t have
to.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Having lost both of them was a sharp
knife in my heart.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Yesterday
was September 8<sup>th</sup>.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My family
and I again went to Sunbury, Ohio for the Fallen Heroes Memorial ceremony.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The ceremony is already heartbreaking and
sobering as you cry for each person there because you know exactly how each one
of them felt.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They called role for each
of the 274 Fallen Heroes from the state of Ohio and I read each name with the
speakers and whispered a silent “thank you” to each of them. My heart broke so
much that I didn’t think it was possible for it to shatter any more when I
heard the name “SGT James C. Robinson” called followed be a “Not present” and
the tolling of the bell.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>These flags
were lined up on the side walk and the wind blew them like crazy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Old Glory slapped me in the face and I knew
that it had to be Jimmy saying “Hey, kid, snap out of it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’m still here, and I’m not going anywhere.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That day, though, also happened to be the two
year anniversary of Jimmy’s visitation.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I remember pieces of that day so vividly that it’s insane.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was two years ago yesterday that Mr. Keith
Maupin handed me the button with Jimmy’s picture.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I have worn that button every day for two
years – a total of 731 days.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In those
two years, each time I have said the Pledge of Allegiance, my hand has covered
that button, which has covered my heart.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>In those two years my Hero has helped protect my heart and has helped
protect me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In those two years I have
been able to look down at any given moment and see his face.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-AQzUTqJlLAM/UE1ElRBPMUI/AAAAAAAABfQ/XLD_2bWFzdQ/s1600/Cousin+name1.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-AQzUTqJlLAM/UE1ElRBPMUI/AAAAAAAABfQ/XLD_2bWFzdQ/s200/Cousin+name1.jpeg" width="200" /></a><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>But in
those two years, that picture has faded.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I realized at Sunbury just how much it had faded.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And so today I have decided that it is time
to stop wearing it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It breaks my heart
completely to do that.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It makes me feel
as though I am forgetting him.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It makes
me feel like I’m losing a piece of him or a piece of myself.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That button has been on my chest every day
for two years and has become such a part of me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I did not wear my button for the first time today, and it feels so
strange.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Jimmy, I promise you, I am not
forgetting you.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I wish I could talk to
you about this.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I love you just as much
as I did yesterday – and the day before that and the day before that and so on
and so on.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It has taken me awhile to
realize that.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It has taken me awhile to
realize that by taking off this button, it does not mean that I’ll forget you,
that I love you any less, or that I won’t think about you.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Because I will.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I still think about you all the time and I
love you so much my heart could burst with pride and explode with sadness.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I hope that you understand.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-HXOUNQT2Mq4/UE1Eoi6U-RI/AAAAAAAABfY/31rC28tEHM0/s1600/He+Loves+Me.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-HXOUNQT2Mq4/UE1Eoi6U-RI/AAAAAAAABfY/31rC28tEHM0/s200/He+Loves+Me.jpeg" width="142" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>And
today marks two years since I saw my Hero’s face for the last time.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Today marks two years since I spoke at your
funeral; two years since we laid you to rest; two years since I stood at the
cemetery as the director said “This marks the end of the funeral services for
SGT James C. Robinson” and I wondered how in the H-E-double-hockey-sticks I was
supposed to just go home now.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>How I was
supposed to keep on living now that things were over.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>How I was supposed to not fall into that six
feet hole with you.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Today marks two
years since I kissed your cheek for the last time.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I wish that kiss would have woken you
up.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My tears are forever with you – my kiss
forever with you.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>But the thing is, I
still wonder how we’re supposed to go on.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Because it still feels like I could literally die from this pain.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I stopped by the cemetery after the sunset
tonight and I stood at my Hero’s grave and thought about the two years that
have lapsed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It doesn’t seem possible,
but at the same time it seems like we’ve lived without him forever.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Jimmy, I miss you so much.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But I know you’ll never leave us.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I just wish I could hug you one more time,
kiss you on the cheek, and tell you I love you. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin;">Love always,</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin;">Kiddo</span>Hannahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05132968952943980733noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7457071412516220903.post-37649966526207815212012-08-25T13:49:00.001-04:002012-08-25T13:49:01.564-04:00School<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I </span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">know I skipped writing last Tuesday, and I meant to post Wednesday. I did, I really did. But Tuesday was spent finishing up my homework for school (which started Wednesday), and then Wednesday after school I felt really sick and slept a good portion of the evening after I got home. But I told myself I would post before my next Tuesday came about, so you're welcome. ?</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">Anyway, my year, so far, has been pretty good. I like most of my teachers, and I like being an upper-classman. Although, that kind of sends a feeling of panic through me as I'm half way done with high school, and if the same holds true for these years, the next two are going to fly by way too fast. I really think I wouldn't mind school so much if I didn't have to get up so early! I'm not a morning person, at all. Besides my English teacher giving us an insanely impossible quiz over a book I read in June (a how-to book, nonetheless) asking for tiny details he included that I didn't star or anything, this year has been okay the first three days. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">I feel like I should update you on my writing, since I haven't done that in awhile. I haven't written anything. Literally, nothing. This past Sunday we had a car/bike show and pig roast fundraiser for Jimmy's scholarship fund. It turned out pretty great, and we even had <a href="http://www.scottybratcher.com/">Scotty Bratcher</a> performing. It was a great day and a lot of fun. But it reminded me how much I have slacked on writing. I didn't write at all this summer, nothing that I wanted to write, that is. I may have written one poem this summer, and I know it wasn't my best. It also reminded me that I needed to write a poem for the two-year anniversary. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">It's been a real struggle for me. I haven't had a ton of time to try to write it, but when I sit down to do it I just kind of freeze. I don't know if it's because I've taken such a long break or what. I have a couple things written down that I want to include in the poem, but this is a tough one. I don't know that I've ever struggled with a rough draft of a poem so much. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">At the car show, Scotty was talking about writing songs. He couldn't remember who said it, but he quoted them on saying "When you write about it, it's because you're over it." I agree with that in terms of relationships, daily events, and that kind of stuff. But with death? I'm not so sure. Some of the best things I've written have been written during my darkest hours of grief. But at the same time, some of my worst stuff has been written during those hours, too. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">I think sometimes we get too caught up in trying to philosophize pain; trying to find a reason for it, trying to make it symbolic. And sometimes? Sometimes we can't. I'm not a very good philosophic poet. I will never claim to be. I don't write deep stuff. I mean, the closest metaphoric thing I've ever written to that would be the caged bird poem or the one I wrote for Scotty about "playing with broken guitar strings."</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">Writing, when over thought, isn't writing, rather it's a dictated syntax of words.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">Ever,</span><br />
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Hannahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05132968952943980733noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7457071412516220903.post-68372933384325582382012-08-14T21:49:00.002-04:002012-08-14T21:49:21.352-04:00Years vs. Years<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">So I have a problem where I compare times of the year to previous years. I don't know exactly why I do or when I started doing this, but I do. Last year every time I did this, I found it hurt because I could say "this time last year, Jimmy was still here." And now it's "this time two years ago, Jimmy was still here."</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">Two years seem impossible. It seems impossible that it has been two years since I started my freshman year of high school. It seems impossible that it has almost been two years since my life changed forever, that we got the news that Jimmy wasn't coming home this time. Two years? Think of how much things can change in that amount of time. It's insane. I'm not the same person I was two years ago, not by a long shot. I'm so different now, more sure of who I am, more proud of who I am. And that, sometimes, hurts. It makes me realize that I am no longer the person who Jimmy knew. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">I don't really know where I'm going with this, except that change has been on my mind. It hurts to look back to a year ago (or whatever) and realize that the people you loved most are no longer in your life. And it hurts even more to realize that some of them aren't in your life anymore by choice. Whether it's your choice or theirs, that hurts. It forces you to mourn the loss of someone that you haven't really lost. And after spending so much time mourning someone I had no choice to lose, someone I couldn't fight to keep, I find it so hypocritical to do that. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">Earlier this year, a friend of mine and I parted ways. The situation doesn't need to be explained, and, to be honest, I don't quite understand it myself. I just know that I'm tired of putting myself through pain for the sake of pride. I miss my friend. I do. And I know that I don't have to. They live so close to me, they are alive and well. How can I mourn someone, put myself through that pain, when I have a chance to save this?</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">But it's so scary because I don't know if they want to save it. But I've made my move. And although I know that's all I can do, I still worry it's not enough. And I hate how this is sounding, but I just needed a good vent today. With school starting, it makes me feel like so much is changing, life's moving so fast. And I just want to slam on the breaks.</span><br />
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Hannahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05132968952943980733noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7457071412516220903.post-6369477333117620162012-08-07T21:17:00.001-04:002012-08-07T21:17:05.407-04:00Absense = Stress<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">So from previous posts, you should be able to gather that I will do just about anything to procrastinate summer assignments. Especially on Tuesdays, because that means this blog is an excuse to procrastinate. Last Tuesday, I didn't post anything here. And if I didn't post anything? That means I was really crunching to get my essay done by last Friday.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">I am proud to say that I turned my paper in a day EARLY and even turned it in before 2pm. I was pretty shocked. I wrote majority of it last Tuesday and Wednesday, then spent Thursday morning curled up with a cup of coffee editing my paper. It was absolute crap, but I turned it in. I am just thankful that's over with.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">But at the same time, it has begun to sink in (no matter how much I deny it and refuse to acknowledge it) that school isn't so far away. I still have some other assignments to complete (umm, and start). And those assignments. . . well, it used to seem like there was so much time for me to get them done. But now? Not so much.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">I told myself that I was going to take a few days for me. So I did. In those days, I read the new book by Richelle Mead (which went by wayyyyyyy too quickly - ever notice how that happens when you're trying to put something off by rewarding yourself?), and watched some Gordon Ramsay (who now follows me on Twitter!! @HannaLedford, btw), and went to my family reunion - the last of which was AMAZING. I love my family so much.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">And now tonight I am reminded that I still have a lot to do before I again set my alarms for 5:30am (that thought alone makes me want to throw up). I need to clean my room (which has actually been a goal all summer. . . whoops), I need to do a few crafty things, I need to have my friend over (I haven't hung out with my friends once this summer, how awful is that? Life's just gotten in the way of so much), I need to prepare for a scholarship benefit for Jimmy's fund, and I need to get ready for back to school. I wish that I could prolong time, but not just because of school.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">The future always seemed so distant. Graduating always seemed like some far away event that would never actually happen, you know what I mean? I mean, sure, I always knew I'd graduate, but I just couldn't ever see that day coming - and I still can't. I'm going to be starting my junior year of high school and that's crazy to me. It's seriously almost time for me to enter "the real world." College. . . that's not so distant anymore. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">A lot of people have brought up the question of what I want to do with my life recently. And I didn't know what to tell them. My brother knew exactly what to say: where he wanted to go and what he wanted to major in. But me? I always thought I knew what I wanted to do with my life. But things have changed, and honestly, I don't know if there's a major - a single major at that - for what I want to do.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">I want to write, yes. I want to write novels. I want to go overseas to Afghanistan and do some freelancing work. I want to take pictures, but not have my own studio (I don't think?). I want to be on Dr. Who (that one I'm just going to throw in because it'd be really cool). </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">But the thing I want to do most? I want to make a difference.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">We all have those people we look up to; those people that we wish we could meet and that inspire us more than anything or anyone else ever has. I want to be one of those people to somebody. I want someone to come up to me one day because of something I've done and tell me that I changed his or her life like so many have done for me. That sounds a little vain, but I just want to make a difference in this world. I want to leave it better than I found it. I want to save someone's life, the way others have saved mine. I want to meet people from all over, I want to travel and see the world, I want to do so much.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">But what will I actually do? That's the problem. There's so much that I want to do that I wonder how much of it I'll actually accomplish. There's a part of me that knows which dreams will probably never come into fruition. But I can't deny that those dreams are still there.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">But like I said, there's no major for that. And the future? It scares me. A lot. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">But I vowed that I'd always follow my dreams. And, as the note on my desk reminds me daily that sits below a picture of Jimmy, "Make him as proud of you as you are of him." And that idea? That's what will get me to my dreams.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">But, seriously, if anyone from Dr. Who ever reads this. . . I think you're due for an American companion. . . ; )</span><br />
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-AedrsoznV98/UCG-Ar-wwQI/AAAAAAAABds/viVI9LqRGjE/s1600/HannaSig1.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="179" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-AedrsoznV98/UCG-Ar-wwQI/AAAAAAAABds/viVI9LqRGjE/s320/HannaSig1.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div>Hannahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05132968952943980733noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7457071412516220903.post-3364076549411286582012-07-24T20:15:00.000-04:002012-07-24T20:15:30.652-04:00Worries, Sorrows, and Regrets<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I'm posting this a little late as I didn't really know what I wanted to talk about today. I debated talking about the shooting in Colorado, but decided against it. But I guess this could be somewhat related. I just decided to talk about worries, sorrows, and regrets. Because nothing says "summer" like that, right?</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">Saturday we honored my Uncle Drew at a bike ride and after-party that raised money for his two sons' college funds. I looked for pictures of my Uncle Drew to include in my reflection and found that I didn't have that many of my own, none that I really WANTED. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">Ever since Jimmy died (almost two years ago), I've tried to live my life without regrets. I've tried to live every day to the fullest, and do as many things as I'm given the opportunity to do. I've tried to get a taste of everything life has to offer (that's legal, anyway). One of the outcomes of this was that I started taking pictures. Lots of them. I took pictures of my grandparents, my parents, my military family members, my cousins that I hardly ever get to see, my baby cousins that only stay little so long. . . But there are some people that you just think you'll always have the chance to do things with, to laugh with, to hug, and to photograph. Drew was one of these people. I regret with every fiber of my being that I do not have a recent picture with him. The most recent one I can find is from 2009. I had just turned 13. Now, if you didn't already guess, I look a lot different than I did three years ago - heck, I look a lot different than I did one year ago. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">I don't really know where this post is going or what the point is. But I guess what I want to say is, live like you DON'T have a tomorrow. Treat every family gathering like it's your last, or someone else's. Take NOTHING for granted. Tell people what you want them to know BEFORE they're on life support. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">I haven't really touched the worries and sorrows part, have I? Yeah I didn't really think this post through before I titled it. I know they say not to title things before you write them - but I do with blogs because it gives me a purpose to stick to.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">But anyway, worries and sorrows. I worry a lot, which sometimes leads to regret. However, I'd rather look back and say "I wish I hadn't. . . " than to look back and say "I wish I would've. . . what would have happened if I did?" But when I look back and find myself saying that latter, I feel sorrow. To me, regrets and sorrow kind of go hand-in-hand. Regrets are never a good thing to have - whether you regret not studying as much as you could have for a test or if you regret not going to a family reunion or whatever. They make you feel kind of lousy.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">And this post isn't going anywhere, and I forgot what I was going to say. So: Live life to the fullest. Believe in yourself. Love yourself and others. And. . . yeah. Live it up.</span><br />
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-x30smHR-kMQ/UA86Epd4UdI/AAAAAAAABdY/kBE4kgIFoeY/s1600/HannaSig1.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="179" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-x30smHR-kMQ/UA86Epd4UdI/AAAAAAAABdY/kBE4kgIFoeY/s320/HannaSig1.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div>Hannahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05132968952943980733noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7457071412516220903.post-79907097923279365772012-07-17T14:07:00.000-04:002012-07-17T14:07:09.397-04:00Procrastination Expert<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Soooooooo. I'm blogging today from my desk, where I have been sitting for the past 20ish minutes trying to figure out what the bleep I am doing for my AP history summer assignment. I have read over the handout my teacher gave me at the end of the year I don't know how many times. His instructions, I feel, are vague at best. He gives us ideas for things to read for in both books that we are supposed to compare/contrast, but he doesn't tell us EXACTLY what to read. Which bothers me. I'm not sure if I'm reading the right thing, you know? And it's starting to freak me out because my goal was to start my paper by this Friday to get enough of a start on it so that I could turn it in by August 3rd (that's when it's due - not the first day like a normal teacher, although we do have MORE stuff due the first day as well). </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">Anyway, I'm starting to panic. I haven't started reading the book for my English assignment, and I still have a long way to go in my writing exercises packet for history (also due August 3rd). It dawned on me last night that we are already half way through July. What. The. Bleep. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">And as much as I'm freaking out, I can't help but procrastinate. I can't help it. I'm an expert at procrastination. But the thing is, I don't do anything productive when I procrastinate. Literally, my excuse today was: "Oh! I need to blog today! I'll start reading <em>Democracy in America </em>later today!" Yeah, that probably won't happen. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">But I know I need to. But I also want to write REALLY BADLY, but every time I open up a document, I just . . . can't. I don't know what it is. I can't find the words. Not to mention, I start thinking about all I need to do. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">It just doesn't feel like summer. : ( </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">As I read this over, I really start hating life. BLEH. So I think I'll leave this with a line that I've been using a lot lately: I DON'T WANNA GROW UP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! </span><br />
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-uQqLn45xlyg/UAWoy97NXtI/AAAAAAAABcQ/VqyOzL8xOjs/s1600/HannaSig1.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="179" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-uQqLn45xlyg/UAWoy97NXtI/AAAAAAAABcQ/VqyOzL8xOjs/s320/HannaSig1.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div>Hannahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05132968952943980733noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7457071412516220903.post-42675047810509085632012-07-10T18:32:00.000-04:002012-07-10T18:32:00.127-04:00Summer?<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I had a moment of panic last night because I realized that we were getting into the double digits of July. And for any student, this is kind of a scary thing. Because once you enter the double digits of July, it seems like summer is over - even though it's nowhere near that! I realize how much work I still have to do before school starts back and it sends me into a frenzy. And then I realize that I don't have much time to spend with family and friends, and that pains me.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">I feel like students aren't allowed to be kids anymore. My little sister starts kindergarten in the fall and they won't even let kids bring in treats for their birthdays! If they do, the snacks get sent home with the kids in their backpacks! Know why? Because they need to fit the lessons into the day. OH. MY. GAWD. Kindergarten?? I'm pretty sure that in kindergarten, I didn't learn anything other than how to cut on the lines and color inside the lines. Give me a break.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">But it starts there and it just keeps getting worse. There's the pressure of knowing what you want to do in college from, I kid you not, the fifth grade. Career day? And then in junior high they put you in classes that impact how ready you will be for AP classes. And in high school, you start taking AP and Honors classes to get you ready for college. Freshman year seems like no big deal, you still have FOREVER until you go to college. But come sophomore year? Panic. I'm 16. I'm supposed to plan out my life? Right now? I know that I want to write, but there's not exactly a degree that assures me a publishing contract. I want to do something that makes a difference, but I have no idea what I want to go to college for. English Major? Creative Writing? Journalism? I have no idea.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">But my point is, high school is supposed to make up the best years of your life. It's supposed to be a time of freedom and figuring out who you are - and who you want to be. It's supposed to be a time to make mistakes and learn from them. It's supposed to be fun. . . and I'm feeling the exact opposite. I don't think we're ready to "grow up". It's scary. But we have to. But, again, I'm 16. . . </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">This has pretty much no point to it, other than for me to get a little bit off of my chest. And plus, I forgot it was Tuesday and had no idea what I wanted to talk about. </span><br />
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-aG_l3zGFamo/T_ys_6hWgLI/AAAAAAAABb8/1cPAANDJQjU/s1600/HannaSig1.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="179" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-aG_l3zGFamo/T_ys_6hWgLI/AAAAAAAABb8/1cPAANDJQjU/s320/HannaSig1.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div>Hannahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05132968952943980733noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7457071412516220903.post-80362917280327425322012-07-03T17:13:00.001-04:002012-07-03T17:14:02.533-04:00E-books vs. Print<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I am going to try my very hardest to control myself in this post. My feelings on this subject are very, <strong><em><u>very</u></em></strong> strong. <span style="font-size: x-small;"><em>*I should put a disclaimer that I am not going to hunt you down if you see things differently than I do. This is the 21st century and we are Americans, so ya know, freedom and technology. I just might, ya know, hold you accountable for things. . . more on that later.*</em></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">So anyways, today's topic is e-books versus print books (thanks for reading the title). My side, obviously, is print. But, being the open-minded individual that I am, I will look at the pros of both sides of this argument and defend the side I have chosen.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;"><u>E-books</u></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;">Now, being a reader, I see the up-side of e-books. They are convenient, relatively cheap (especially if you compare them to hard-back books), and they're ready to read within minutes. You can carry multiple books with you without the pain of lugging around heavy books. The devices are usually light and the screen can be adjusted according to the light in which you are reading. All of these things can be useful. They're also environmentally friendly - in the sense that they don't use paper. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;"><u>Print</u></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;">As a writer, though, I refuse to give in to the e-books. Here's why. The publishing industry is dying. Literally. More publishers than you would believe are becoming "electronic publishing only" meaning the authors that are fortunate enough to get a book deal are only being published via e-books. I could also preach to you about how there is nothing that could compare to holding a new book and smelling the fresh smell; or wandering the book store and happening upon a new book that you hadn't heard of. But I won't because most people aren't so attached to books. But as a writer, let me tell you this: If I wanted to see my work on the screen of an iPad or a Kindle or a Nook or whatever, I could easily just put my own file on the device. There's no sense of accomplishment in that, to me. I do have friends that have published electronically, and while they were still very excited to be published, I couldn't help but wonder if they felt a little. . . disappointed. I dream of the day when I can hold a book that is my own, with my title and my name and my author bio and my story, and say, "I've done it." I just don't feel I could do that with an e-book. I couldn't sign them. I guess this could be closely compared to self-publishing. Which, if that's the route for you, go for it. But when I publish, I want it to be because I earned it, and because someone else out there thought my work was good enough to hit shelves - real shelves, not virtual ones where dust and love and trinkets will never collect. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">Okay, so now let me tell you the instance where I would consider buying a device to use for e-books. One instance alone: textbooks. Textbooks are not my friends. I feel that if schools would use e-readers in the place of textbooks, a lot of money could be saved. You wouldn't have to replace them every time a new version was printed - which can be as little as ONE PAGE different - instead you'd just have to download the update. You wouldn't have to worry about students damaging the books or losing them, because trust me, a student will NOT damage or lose an iPad. Plus, I feel more students would do their homework, because they wouldn't be lugging home 4 or 5 heavy textbooks a night, but one small, light device. But other than for textbooks, I will not consider an e-reader.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">I have made it my mission to do so. I buy my books from bookstores. I buy real books. I do so because I don't want my industry to die. And if you have an e-reader, like I said, I'm not going to hunt you down in your sleep or anything. I just might hold you accountable if I never get published - or if by the time I do, the only option is electronic. And at that point. . . well, who knows?</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">I came across a book the other day that I really wanted to buy. But it was only available in an e-book version. Period. No print version available. Anywhere. It made me sad, not only for the author, but for the readers who stumble across this book, ready and willing to love it, and then they don't have a chance to unless they succumb to the electronic books.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">So, I am for print. Period. Well, except for textbooks.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">Go read something. (I could go into how important reading is and how it should be encouraged more, but I won't. . . not today, at least. ;) )</span><br />
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-wa6VpFPmosE/T_NfRFxEtqI/AAAAAAAABbo/VGhZzzfyNZg/s1600/HannaSig1.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="179" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-wa6VpFPmosE/T_NfRFxEtqI/AAAAAAAABbo/VGhZzzfyNZg/s320/HannaSig1.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div>Hannahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05132968952943980733noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7457071412516220903.post-56251362968494504862012-06-26T18:03:00.000-04:002012-07-19T15:17:02.075-04:00Chaos Ensues.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I've mentioned before that I have been debating whether or not it was time for a change. I have hinted at putting CATCH ME on hold for a little while - maybe just for the summer - and writing this other project. Lately, I've had little to no inspiration and am at a point in CATCH ME that I'm feeling a little lost, a little distant, a little. . . just out of it, I guess. If you're a writer, I'm thinking you know this feeling. <span style="color: blue;">And if you ARE a writer - please let me know that you're out there!! </span><span style="color: black;">It's just a matter of making up my mind. </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">A lot of this has had to do with the fact that I am afraid that if I take a break from CM, it's like I'm giving up on Jimmy. It's a big internal struggle that I'm facing. Every time I let myself think about this new project, something in my head plays this Jimmy card on me, and I'm guilted into opening up CM again. But every time I've opened the Chapter 11 document, I haven't been able to write anything. Not even a word. And if I'm not going anywhere with it, it seems to me that I should continue on writing SOMETHING.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">Another thing that comes to mind that scares me bleepless is the fact that part of this project involves a subject matter that I know little to nothing about. I have a friend who does, so maybe I should enlist his help. I could research it, but at this point I've let myself fall so in love with this story, that I don't really want to sift through something that could change my mind - if that makes any sense? And I'm really afraid that what I'm envisioning and planning won't actually be plausible, or even real. It can only be fiction to a point, you know?</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">I had considered beginning writing this new project today. But all day I've found something to reason against it. So I really need your guys' help, if you're reading. I need help here deciding what I need to do. I don't want to abandon CM, but right now I'm just not feeling it. And I cannot explain to you how bad that makes me feel to say that. I feel like I'm betraying Jimmy in so many ways. He inspired my writing in so many ways. . . see, I go in circles!! </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">Please help.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">Ever, </span><br />
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-yUZB0Vdc33c/T-oxGlaXVAI/AAAAAAAABbU/QXlNTdJonHA/s1600/HannaSig1.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="179" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-yUZB0Vdc33c/T-oxGlaXVAI/AAAAAAAABbU/QXlNTdJonHA/s320/HannaSig1.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div>Hannahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05132968952943980733noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7457071412516220903.post-12558769988426000122012-06-19T23:40:00.001-04:002012-06-19T23:40:55.723-04:00Tuesday Thoughts<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Surround yourself with the people you love.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">That's all I've got this week.</span><br />
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-t9YS4ljGeco/T-FGOO7WalI/AAAAAAAABbI/nr4iD2MPNDY/s1600/HannaSig1.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="177" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-t9YS4ljGeco/T-FGOO7WalI/AAAAAAAABbI/nr4iD2MPNDY/s320/HannaSig1.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div>Hannahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05132968952943980733noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7457071412516220903.post-57874496486537533462012-06-12T21:33:00.001-04:002012-06-12T21:33:03.995-04:00Caged Bird<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Sorry that my Tuesday post is coming a little late tonight. Been a busy day! (more on that next week!) </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">So I've been trying to think of something to write all day and it seems that I continue to struggle with the same issues over and over again. And I'm kind of tired of talking about it without saying what that is and whom it concerns - but I'm not going to do either thing, so. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">Anyway, I thought today I would share a poem on here that I wrote awhile back. It's called <em>Caged Bird.</em></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Iron bars enclose me<o:p></o:p></span></em></strong></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">The metal shines and gleams<o:p></o:p></span></em></strong></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">But my wings ache to fly<o:p></o:p></span></em></strong></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">And no one can hear me scream.<o:p></o:p></span></em></strong></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">These bars are my prison<o:p></o:p></span></em></strong></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">You’ve kept me here so long.<o:p></o:p></span></em></strong></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Repeating myself like a parrot,<o:p></o:p></span></em></strong></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">But I’m tired of singing your song.<o:p></o:p></span></em></strong></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Set me free<o:p></o:p></span></em></strong></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Let me fly away<o:p></o:p></span></em></strong></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">The things you keep locked up<o:p></o:p></span></em></strong></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Will never willingly stay.<o:p></o:p></span></em></strong></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">In my heart<o:p></o:p></span></em></strong></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">I know that I still love you<o:p></o:p></span></em></strong></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">But it’s time for me<o:p></o:p></span></em></strong></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">To do what I have to.<o:p></o:p></span></em></strong></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">I know both of us<o:p></o:p></span></em></strong></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Are going to ache<o:p></o:p></span></em></strong></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">But if I stay here,<o:p></o:p></span></em></strong></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">I’m going to break.<o:p></o:p></span></em></strong></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">God gave me these wings<o:p></o:p></span></em></strong></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">And a heart full of flight<o:p></o:p></span></em></strong></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Don’t you see I’m bound to soar<o:p></o:p></span></em></strong></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">And reach better heights?<o:p></o:p></span></em></strong></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">But you’re holding me down<o:p></o:p></span></em></strong></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Forming me in your mold.<o:p></o:p></span></em></strong></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">You’re wasting my life away<o:p></o:p></span></em></strong></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Please release your hold.<o:p></o:p></span></em></strong></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">I have to go for me<o:p></o:p></span></em></strong></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">To myself I must stay true.<o:p></o:p></span></em></strong></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Nothing can be my cage – <o:p></o:p></span></em></strong></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Not even you.<o:p></o:p></span></em></strong></div>
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