One Hundred Times Over

       Well for those of you who haven't been keeping track, this is a very special blog entry for me. I started this blog back in...February. Can that be right?! Over six months ago. It honestly feels like I've just started this blog, and that I'm still fighting it so that I'm out of the Blogger "newbie" stage. That stage in which someone starts a blog and is like: "I'm going to blog every day!"...then does it for a few weeks, gets bored, uninspired, and unmotivated, so they drop it and start a different project to occupy their valuable computer time. It feels like it was just a few weeks ago that I first wrote about my disdain for the Turnabout dance, or vented about my frustration over our ruined vacation plans with the earthquake in Japan. Some entries have certainly been better than others. There were times when I would have very inspired and creative writing in which the words flowed easily from my mind onto my computer screen. Then there were other times when I struggled to find a way to convey my thoughts into a string of sentences that made sense to anybody. There were times when I had so many blog topics in mind that I couldn't choose which one to execute first, and then there were times when I picked at my brain to think of anything even mildly interesting that I could shape into a short blog entry just because I hadn't posted one in a while.
       For any of you that may have stuck around reading my endless rants and ravings that have been encapsulated by this blog, you've probably gotten to know me pretty well throughout these entries. Anyone who's read this blog has hopefully gotten a look at who I honestly am as a person. Through my writing all I am is myself. I find myself changing my personality slightly depending on who I'm talking to. If I'm with this group of friends I will talk a certain way, make certain jokes, and try to be a person that they will enjoy. But when I'm with a different group of friends, I'm completely different. I try to say that I'm an individual and no one will change me, but I find it amazing the range of different versions of myself there are that different groups of people see. If you've never met me in person, and all you know of me is this blog, you probably know me better than a lot of people. Through my writing I'm only myself. No changes. My thoughts, nothing held back for fear of what the people reading it will think. That's what I've loved about this blog. I do it for myself, and myself alone. If other people read it, great. If they enjoy it, even better. But they don't necessarily have to like it.
      As of this post, I have submitted 100 different blog entries to this website. I have sat down in front of a blank screen 100 times, typing then thinking, not the other way around. I have pondered over 100 different titles, trying to make them as witty as I could. This is my one hundredth post. 100 posts in a little over six months. Not long ago, I went back to read through some old posts, just to see if there was something I could improve on in the future, or just to see what was going on in my head when I wrote some of these entries (seeing as some were written in a 2 A.M. hazy state of mind). Am I the best writer in the world? No. But are there blog entries that I'm proud of? Certainly! But even more, I'm proud of 100 posts. Proud that I stuck with it to this point. Proud of the late nights when all I wanted to do was go to bed, but instead I stayed up to write to you, my reader(s). But in all honesty, my most important reader, is me. As vain as it may sound, it's true. If I stop believing in what I'm writing, that's the day I stop writing.
     But to those of you who do keep up with reading my blog, or even those who have just stumbled upon this entry and will never be visiting my blog again: thank you. Thank you all. I said in my very first post that if I managed to make an impression on just one person with this blog, it will all be worth it. These one hundred posts have been so worth it. Because, even if they haven't made an impression on any of you, it did on me. Thank you all once again, it's been such a blast keeping this blog, and I plan to continue writing in it for as long and as often as I can. School has started, and things will get hectic, but honestly, I will try my best to keep thinking of new and interesting things to talk about.
     This is my one hundredth post....only nine hundred away from celebrating my one thousandth blog...good luck to us all.

P.S. These one hundred posts also include 6 drafts that were never made public. They are somewhat finished posts, so it shows on my Dashboard "99 Posts". So if you look and see that I only have "93 Posts", and you're thinking "WHAT is she talking about, she hasn't had NEAR 100 posts", that would be why.

Hey...You've Got Something On Your Upper Lip...

      Those whiskers that grow out of a man's upper lip. You can curl it maniacally or comb it into fancy styles. It can be a sign of being dignified, manhood, or just being too lazy to shave. There's the "Handlebar Mustache", the "Hitler", "Chops", "The Chester Allen Arthur", a simple goatee. Regardless of the style, it's all the same when it comes right down to it. Facial hair. What is it about this hair that most men work at shaving during their morning routines? It's seen as a mark of being a man. A man who can grow a beard is a big strong man. I, for one, don't believe in this whatsoever. I'm in high school, so this is very much subject to change, but the guys I see with beards or mustaches are just plain gross. No shave November makes the personal hygiene of the male (and sometimes even female) population go way downhill. Maybe it's just because the guys I see with beards and mustaches are the ones who are just too lazy to shave it. This also means they're too lazy to keep their facial hair well kept...and unfortunately too lazy to brush the crumbs of their lunch out of it. However, anyone I see with a mustache or beard just automatically makes me cringe.

      My biggest example: Ryan Gosling. To my readers of this blog, you cannot deny that you didn't want to cry a little prematurely in The Notebook when Noah (played by Ryan Gosling) is shown to age with the addition of a giant unkempt mane of bushy facial hair. At that point, I didn't blame Ally for wanting to be with her clean shaven fiance. Guys must learn, facial hair is not a sign of manhood. It's not attractive, in style, cool, or "hipster". Pick up a razor and get rid of that thing growing between your nose and your lip. Going further with my Ryan Gosling example: today I saw the movie Crazy Stupid Love in which Gosling plays a kind of "slime-ball player". What do they give his character in order to insure he looked the part? A nasty slimy-looking goatee. It's not attractive. 

      Maybe it's just me and I'm crazy. Afterall, Ally ended up with the bearded Noah in The Notebook, and Jacob in Crazy Stupid Love certainly had no problem attracting women. But in my opinion, in this time period, guys my age should not try their absolute hardest to grow a mustache like they do. It should not be seen as a sign of manhood, but a sign of overcompensation. DISCLAIMER: this rule has few exceptions, but exceptions do exist. For example: Tom Selleck. He is one of the few men I've seen in my life that can pull off a mustache.  

Set The Alarms And Pack The Lunches

       Ahh yes, the sweet smell of fresh notebooks in the morning. It's once again, that time of the year that always sneaks up just a little too soon. Classes of the 2011-2012 school year start tomorrow, and the students are buzzing about; going back to school shopping, planning one last summer hurrah, perfecting a "first day of school outfit", and of course, figuring out how in the world they're going to handle nine months of eight rigorous classes a  day. It's a lot to deal with, and the fact that school was starting soon didn't really set in until a few days ago. Usually, at this point, I'm deathly bored of summer. I'm ready for a change, for a reason to get up early in the morning. Projects, something to work on. In a way, I typically look forward to the first few weeks of school. This year? Not so much.
      One may ask, what changed from every other summer since I can remember and now? This is the first summer I have really wished for another month or two of vacation. Perhaps it's because I was in summer school for over two thirds of my so-called "vacation". I never really experienced even a few days in which I could truly relax. For the most part, I'm okay with this. I like being busy, going from one thing to the next, never having nothing to do...but in a way, it would be nice to have a week. Just a week in which I could do what I want. Go to movies with friends. Sit and read a book. Sleep in late. Do absolutely nothing at all. I never really had a time when I could do that. It was go, go, go all summer long, and now I am facing nine more months of being go, go, go throughout the school year.
     People ask me if I'm excited for school. My immediate answer is: yes! In all honesty, there are things I look forward to with the coming school year. The football season (which ultimately means the marching band season for me). Fall is coming, the leaves will change, it will no longer be deathly hot or buggy. I like the concept of seeing my friends every day, facing new opportunities to join clubs, find new interests, feel the sense of accomplishment if I do well on a test. I do like school. I can't deny it whatsoever. But, besides from the getting up early, the one thing that makes me yearn for more summer is: I'm scared. I'm honestly frightened out of my mind. I'm going into my junior year. I will be an upperclassman, and suddenly, everything has taken on new meaning. Each and every test, quiz, project, even those five point homework assignments will affect my future in an irreversible way. My class schedule is filled with four AP courses, an honors class, and two electives. Just thinking about it makes the sting of anxiety rise in my throat.
     So now I will finish this blog; lay out my clothes for tomorrow, set my alarm to an ungodly hour, lay out my backpack, filled with notebooks ready to be doodled in, struggle to go to sleep at a reasonable hour, and face the year that will scare, challenge, excite, revolt, frustrate, and invigorate me. Let's do this.

The Keys To The Kingdom

Part 3

Continuation From: "Down The Rabbit Hole"

       For those of you who are getting extremely bored of me rambling on about Disneyland for the past two blog posts, be prepared to rejoice! This will (probably) be my last part in this saga of Disney goodness. I'm sorry to make this so long, but for those of you who follow this blog, you know that Disney is a big part of my life, and I wanted to document my impression of Disneyland while it's still fresh in my mind. It's funny how memories, even such potent ones, fade considerably after just a few weeks. I know I've been typing like a maniac about this subject, but there is just one more aspect of the experience I have to cover. Since my first visits to Disney World, the thing that always stuck in my mind was: "What's in the castle?". My dream was to go in it. I didn't have to live there, I just wanted to know what was in it. The mystery was agonizing to me as a five year old girl. It drove me crazy that there could be an entire world of wonder within the stone walls of the beautiful castle I've been visiting once a year for my entire life. This is one of the things that sets Disney apart from any other theme park in the world. 

      The mystery that comes along with any of the parks is so enticing. Disney doesn't just give free reign to any and all information about its beginnings and its secrets. Not just anyone is allowed into every nook and cranny of the park. When I was in Disneyland, one of the first rides we headed to was Pirates Of The Caribbean. As a family favorite, paired with the fact that we heard it was supposed to be better than the one in Disney World, we were all eager for this ride. But, the line stretching all through New Orleans Square suggested that we weren't the only Pirate lovers in the park. So we were waiting in the hot California sun when all of a sudden, my sister noticed something. Above the entrance to the ride, there was a balcony, adorned with the sign "Disney Dream Suite". So, we did what any normal American family would do. We whipped out our iPhones and scoured Wikipedia for answers. Indeed, Walt Disney had the "Dream Suite" construction started in the 1960's, but the project died along with the creator of all things Disney. However, it was reborn in the Year Of A Million Dreams in 2008. The suite is a luxurious living quarters, each room themed after a different area of the park. Every so often, the suite is given as a gift to a random family visiting the park. 

       This is the pure beauty of Disney. Do they have to give out this "Dream Suite" for free? No. Do they publicize their good deeds to show how "wholesome" of a company they are? No. They keep their humble good deeds quiet, mysterious, and full of fantasy. Now, not only will I forever fantasize about what is in Cinderella's Castle (besides the Disney World Dream Suite in the top), but I will always wonder what is in the "Dream Suite" that overlooks the bustling New Orleans Square. Supposedly it is adorned with memorabilia from past films, beautiful antiques, etc. 

       There is one more secret that Disney holds to be one of the most exclusive clubs there is. Club 33. This was Walt's idea, to make a private club that would only be kept at the highest standards of elegance and class. This club includes a restaurant, lounge, and full bar. The project was started and finished by Walt, the club itself is decorated by his wife, Lillian Disney. Membership to this club is set at the bargain price of $10,450, and an additional annual fee of $3,275. Oh, and that price does not include your meals eaten at Club 33, which customarily cost around $85 each. However, with this membership, you are allowed free access to Disneyland parks during any of its opening hours, including its early entrance hours. You are given six fastpasses upon entrance to the park, while normal patrons are only given one at a time. Also, free valet service, and permission on the presidential cart of the Disneyland Railroad is included with membership. Only a certain number of members are accepted at a time, and currently there is a 14 year waiting list to become a member. Some well known members include Johnny Depp, Tom Hanks, and Elton John.

        The secrets. The mystery. The fantasy. The magic. People ask me what's so great about Disney World or Disneyland, they're just amusement parks like any other. But they're just not. These parks are different from anywhere else. It strives to be original, whimsical, and exclusive, while somehow still including everyone in the world. These secrets of Disney give me something to dream about. What you see is not what you get. No one can be sure of anything in these parks. The information in this blog entry is, of course, available to anyone with access to Wikipedia, so some may say they're not actually "secrets", but what mystifies me is the fact that these are just the secrets we know. It makes me wonder what secrets we don't know. The magic that is kept from our eyes. Those that hold the keys to the magic kingdom are the only ones that know. 

          There are so many conspiracies of things hidden in Disneyland and Disney World. Most I'm sure are just fake stories that were made up for entertainment. But it does make me wonder...what is hidden throughout these mysterious parks? What other secrets do the gates of Fantasyland hold? What has taken place there after the Extra Magic Hours are over? What hides just around the corner from Wonderland? Most likely, I'll never know. And that, my friend, is the magic of Disney.

I digress...

Down The Rabbit Hole

Continuation From: "The Worlds, The Land, and The Adventure"

      On with my comparison of Disney World and Disneyland, I'd like to quickly mention the one thing I heard in Disneyland that really bothered me. I consider Disney parks to be a higher class of amusement park. It's not like the others where getting their hands on your money is all they care about. The workers are top tier, the music, the atmosphere, everything is just dead set upon making the patrons feel the magic of imagination and fantasy. For fun, my sisters and I decided to dress up like different Disney characters the days that we were in the park. My older sister decided to dress up as one of her favorite princesses: Belle. White collared shirt under a blue cotton dress with an apron, and a white bow holding back her hair to top it all off. She looked adorable! Then, when we're entering the park, she's stopped at the gates. The workers were required to stop and inspect her outfit, to see if it was too "costume-esque", because apparently, in Disneyland, if you are over the age of nine, you are not permitted to wear a costume, due to "company policy". Am I the only one who is completely shocked by this? I mean, it's Disneyland, a place where you are supposed to be able to feel any age you like. Where you can travel back to the days of your innocent youth. That's the one thing that just put a bit of a bad taste in my mouth.

       But to end that bad note with a good one, I'd like to mention the two things that really made me waiver on being so resolved that Disney World was better than Disneyland. I'll admit it, I'm a sucker for live shows. The costumes, the bright lights, the singing and dancing, I love it all. Sitting in the lavish Disneyland theater, waiting for the live Aladdin show to start, I had no idea what to expect. Was it going to be a full length show or just an abbreviated twenty minute version of the story? How far would they go to make the show dazzling? Well, when the lights went out and the Cave Of Wonders appeared in front of me, my question was answered on the spot. The show was incredible, more than I could possibly have expected. The acting was impeccable, especially by the Genie. The singing, dancing, scenery, it was all just as perfect as it could be! I laughed so hard my sides began to ache; and I'll admit, I'm not one to cry in movies whatsoever, but something about this show brought tears to my eyes. Aladdin is my favorite classic Disney musical, and I could not have asked for a better live interpretation of it. Plus, it's a show I've seen no where else, not even Disney World; where all they have is a very abbreviated version of Beauty and the Beast.

       The second thing that really floored me was another live show called World of Color. Again, I didn't really know what to expect with this. Disney is known for their firework shows at night, and this was a show that made its debut every night after the sun dipped below the Mickey Ferris Wheel. So, naturally, when I was waiting for the show to begin, I figured the boom of fireworks would infest my ears at any moment. But, wow, I couldn't have been more wrong. The show began with a great spout of water, illuminated by colored lights. The show progressed with sprays of water shooting up from the lake, all of different colors, waving in different designs, all set to coincide with music. In addition, in the middle, there was a wall of water on which different Disney movie scenes were projected. It was really dazzling, I was mystified. The spraying water, along with the music, just told such an emotional story, mixing in the classic Disney characters. 

World Of Color

My Sister As Belle

Aladdin Show: "Friend Like Me"

End of Part 2

To Be Continued

The Worlds, The Lands, And The Adventure

    Throughout my entire life, since before I can even remember, I have been visiting the magical and enchanting Disney World on an annual basis. I've traveled all over the world; all fifty states, Europe, all over the Caribbean, Canada, and Central America. Why is it that the one place that my sisters and I continue to beg to go back to over and over again is a theme park. We've seen the most beautiful natural wonders of the world, and all we want to go back to is the man-made land infested with actors in costumes, pretending to be characters of our childhoods. I guess I answered my own question when I said that I've been visiting these parks since before I can remember. I grew up with them. I grew up with the characters, the songs, the rides, the shows. Going inside Cinderella's Castle was my greatest and earliest dream I can remember. I love this place with all of my heart, but somehow, I hadn't been to the park that started it all up until this summer.
     Disneyland is obviously the original Disney park. Starting in Anaheim, California, Disneyland took the phenomenon of Mickey Mouse, fantasy, and imagination of Walt Disney and put it into a theme park that could be enjoyed by children and adults alike. However, when Anaheim attracted the "wrong kind of businesses", cluttering the streets with plenty of neon-clad establishments, Walt Disney wanted to start a new park. One that would cover enough property to be considered its own entity. This became Disney World. So Disney World is, of course, much larger. Containing four separate parks, it is 47 square miles of pure Disney. That is twice the size of Manhattan. Disney World is also much newer, closer to where I live, and has a much greater selection of attractions. So why in the world did we even want to visit its smaller and older Disneyland counterpart?
     Walt Disney's original park is referenced thousands of times in daily conversation. When I think about it, I probably hear more in TV shows, movies, and books about Disneyland than I do Disney World. That, compiled with the fact that Disneyland is the original, we thought it was about time to see what all of the hubbub was about. I was not ready to be overly impressed. I knew there weren't going to be the incredible amount of attractions that take three days minimum to visit them all like it is in Disney World. I knew that it was just the two parks: Disneyland and California Adventure, as opposed to the World's four: Magic and Animal Kingdom, Hollywood Studios, and Epcot. There would be no Epcot, futuristic and cultural experience, which is my whole family's favorite. I was ready to visit a theme park that would just make me long to go to Disney World even harder.
     I've got to say...I was a bit shocked. Part of my speculation was correct, some of the attractions weren't quite as good as Disney World, which just made me want to visit that park. In addition, when I entered the Disneyland Park, and I step onto Main Street, I look up, expecting the vast castle that just floors me every time I visit Disney World. Instead, I saw a castle...but it looked as if it had shrunken. It was tiny! Very cute, but I've got to say, I was a little underwhelmed. However, there were several newer attractions that had been built recently in order to try to attract more crowds that were extremely impressive! Namely, The Adventures of The Little Mermaid, Monsters Inc. (Mike and Sully To The Rescue), Indiana Jones, and California Screamin'. Then, there were some of the classic rides from Disney World that I adore, in which were actually much more entertaining in Disneyland. This was most prominent in Pirates of the Caribbean and It's A Small World. Maybe it's because they're the original rides of the original park.

End of Part 1

To Be Continued... 

So This One Time...At Band Camp...

      Oh the innuendos that have followed the thought of what happens at band camp. Due to the movie American Pie, band camp is seen as a very sultry, scandalous, drama-filled experience. These kids are put together for six hours a night, under the light of the stars and bright football stadium lights. They're forced to bond with one another with things like section bonding and band stretches. Teenage hormones are racing. Add in a tuba and things are bound to start going awry, right?! Well...wrong. I go to a high school that has much more than its fair share of drama and scandal, but band camp is probably the one thing that is the least drama-infested environment. In actuality, it's just a bunch of kids who would never have spoken to each other without band, acting silly, having fun, swatting mosquitoes, and blasting their instruments as loud as they can.
      I've mentioned several times in this blog how much marching band means to me. It's my niche. Where I fit in to my school. Amongst all of the drama, fights, and backstabbing of my school, band is the one place where everyone is just themselves. We sweat together for six hours a day, no one cares what they look like. Our biggest scandal is that our band director wore a cowboy hat today. Band is a place where I don't have to worry about sounding or looking stupid. A place where I can laugh at myself when I stumble over my own feet. I can go to anyone in the room and know that they're there for me. Maybe not all one hundred kids in the band are best friends with one another, but regardless, we're all family. We'll help each other, protect each other, laugh and cry with one another, and belt out Disney songs together.
       Maybe band camp isn't as exciting and scandalous as it's made out to be. I've never heard of any four play going on behind the bleachers or on the football field, (practice rooms, now that's another story). So to set the record straight: band camp is a week of memorizing music, learning drill formations for the halftime show, making new friends, laughing, playing, and just being plain silly sometimes. And you know what, even though we don't have mindless rumors, scandal, and beyond to entertain us, it's just because we're entertaining enough as a group without it. I'll complain throughout this tiring week of marching, but when all is said and done, some of my best high school memories will have come from band camp. So this one time...at band camp...I turned a group of individuals thrown together with a bunch of instruments, and discovered a sort of family.

Back From The Dead

      For those of you who have been wondering, no I did not die. No, I was not taken prisoner. No, I did not move to some remote island that does not receive a wi-fi connection. It just so happens, that for the past couple of weeks, I was whisked away to the beautiful, entertaining, exciting state of California. I promised myself I'd keep up with blogging while I was gone, but of course, life got in the way. We were early to rise, seeing the sites, starting in San Francisco. The Golden Gate Bridge. Eating tons of Boudin's sourdough bread. The Seventeen Mile Drive. Then we traveled down the coast, stopping in small towns and big cities. Then to Hollywood. Home of the stars; a center of culture, fame, and fortune. Then, my personal favorite, to Anaheim! We "left today and entered the land of yesterday, tomorrow, and fantasy" through the gates of Disneyland. Saw the shows: Aladdin, World of Color, etc. Rode all of the rides...some more than once. We even dressed like the characters one of the days we enjoyed the parks. then on to San Diego. Home of the zoo that is one of four in the country that is home to a panda bear. Then, on our last night of our vacation, I receive a text from my parents telling us to go out onto our hotel room balcony. We hear the sounds of "Mr. Roboto". My sister and I glance at each other, pull out our iPhones, and Google the fact that the voice we hear is indeed that of the lead singer of Styx. The live concert followed by a fireworks show over the water. All visible and audible from the comforts of our hotel balcony.

       Needless to say, it was a great trip. But, all good things must come to an end. I am now safely back home and forced to face reality. The reality of band camp, school starting, friends who want to hang out before the summer comes to a sudden halt. I promise you this: I have TONS of blog topics I thought of while either looking out the car window and some beautiful California scenery or sitting in my plush theater seat, watching the bright costumes flail back and forth in the live reenactment of Aladdin. But, if I do miss a few days here and there within the next couple of weeks, I do apologize. But, with band camp (six hours a day of marching) and school starting, things are bound to get hectic. 

      Vacations are a beautiful thing. In my family, they're not exactly the most relaxing of experiences. We never slept in or spent lazy days at the beach. No, instead, we get up early and cover more ground than most would think possible in the time we're given. I'm happy we vacation this way. California was just FULL of things to see and places to go. But then again, I can't help looking back on my crazy busy summer and long for just a few days to just do nothing. 

A Fine Line Between "Classics" And Boring

       So I'm a little bit of a movie buff. Not so much so that I know all of the lines to all of the most classic movies of all time, but enough so that I've seen an above average amount of them. My older sister's one true passion in life is multitasking. So she decided that it was time that she watched all of best and most highly acclaimed movies in our country's film history. She would watch the movies on her iPhone whenever she had a spare minute. So of course she had to start with the basics: Lawrence Of Arabia, Shawshank Redemption, etc. Most of these highly acclaimed, said-to-be-amazing movies, really are quite mind blowing. Just looking at my favorite movies of all time, you can see that I'm one to enjoy the award-winning type: Good Will Hunting, Titanic, The King's Speech, Avatar, Erin Brockovich, and so on. These are movies that just feel so much more significant and life changing than when I watch the credits of a Sandra Bullock romantic comedy roll. However, there happens to be a fine line between mind blowing, significant, amazing and mind-numbingly boring.
        Soon, I am going to be in California on vacation with my family. Of course, we have to hit all of the touristy spots from the Golden Gate Bridge in San Francisco to the Hollywood sign in L.A. Then of course, there's Hearst Castle; the incredibly gorgeous mansion that William Randolph Hearst built for himself in the 1920's. So, since we'll be touring this in just a matter of days, my parents thought it would only be fitting for my sisters and I to watch the movie: Citizen Kane. This is a black and white fictionalized version of William Randolph Hearst's life, starring Orson Welles.This is said to be one of the best - if not the best - movie of all time. So naturally, I was eager to watch this with my family. However, I was a little discouraged by the line in the TV show "Friends": Rachel "It's not like it's a classic like Citizen Kane!" Joey: "You managed to sit through Citizen Kane?!" Rachel: "Yeah, I know, it's really boring...but it's like a really big deal..."
       Granted, I only paid half-attention to the movie, I did not find much enjoyment out of this classic. Maybe because I couldn't relate, the movie was dated, or a combination of the two, I just couldn't find anything that interested me. However, I do feel like a bit of a failure. I claim to love these kind of classic, all-time best movies; then I watch Citizen Kane, one of the definitively best movies of all time...and I'm just like Rachel in "Friends", it was really boring! So where is that line that divides "classic" from extremely dated and boring?