It’s been a few weeks now since I chose my One Word 2011. My word, break, is hangin’ in there. I’m trying really hard to concentrate on my word, but to be honest I mostly want to ignore it. I actually sometimes get angry that I even picked the word in the first place, but I already picked it and I already posted a blog about it... so there’s no going back and changing it.
I ask myself, what keeps me away from breaking? What hinders my ability to fully commit? Maybe it’s my stubbornness or my pride or my inability to express how I truly feel or my laziness or my constant don’t-care attitude or my fear. The answer isn’t simple and there’s no one correct answer. All these maybes put together are the answer. Breaking isn’t gunna be easy, but I have hope and some amazing people in my life.
I’m starting a new thing guys. At the end of every blog post will come a song that complies with the post. Today’s song is I Am Still Running – Jon Foreman.
Saturday, January 29, 2011
Monday, January 17, 2011
Remembering
Martin Luther King Jr. He was a great man that influenced the world. Even though it’s Martin Luther King Day, there’s something much more close to my heart on this day.
I was 11. Dad was in the Bahamas for work. It was only his second week of working at a new job. I went about my day as usual. Woke up, went to school. My mom and I went to the grocery store after school. We called Gram to ask if she wanted any oranges. She loved oranges so much. We didn’t get an answer so we supposed she was taking a nap. Mom and I went back to the house and unloaded the groceries. Chrissy and Allen (my siblings) Frank (my stepdad), Mom, and I decided we would go to Applebees for dinner.
We stopped at Gram’s before Applebees to give her the oranges we got. The front door was locked. She wouldn’t answer the door. The vibe in the air immediately changed. We all knew. No one was crying yet. We went around to the side, where a window was unlocked. My brother climbed through the window and unlocked the front door. My stepdad told us to stay downstairs. I sat on the blue chair while my heart was in panic. I heard the footsteps of my stepdad coming down the steps. He looked at my mom and nodded his head. The tears broke out. It was the second loved one to die, but she was the closest to my heart. It wasn’t okay and I didn’t know what to do. Daddy didn’t even have a phone in the Bahamas. We couldn’t even call him to tell him that his mom had passed. My sister was the worse-off. I had never seen her like that before.
We got back in the car, and my stepdad stayed back. As we pulled out of the neighborhood, a police car was pulling in. We tried all night to get a hold of Dad, but there was just no way. I went to bed that night with my heart in angst and sadness.
But today I do not mourn, I remember. I remember the good times and all the smiles we shared with Gram. I remember our weekly trips to Dollar General and the weekend movie nights. I remember how much we all loved watching Mr. Bean together. I remember how she would make me hot tea and how she loved to eat pickles, the really big ones. (just like Snooki!) I remember her really disliking Virginians, her hometown of Pennsylvania was much better. And what I remember most about Gram is her great hugs and how much she loved her son and grandchildren.
I was 11. Dad was in the Bahamas for work. It was only his second week of working at a new job. I went about my day as usual. Woke up, went to school. My mom and I went to the grocery store after school. We called Gram to ask if she wanted any oranges. She loved oranges so much. We didn’t get an answer so we supposed she was taking a nap. Mom and I went back to the house and unloaded the groceries. Chrissy and Allen (my siblings) Frank (my stepdad), Mom, and I decided we would go to Applebees for dinner.
We stopped at Gram’s before Applebees to give her the oranges we got. The front door was locked. She wouldn’t answer the door. The vibe in the air immediately changed. We all knew. No one was crying yet. We went around to the side, where a window was unlocked. My brother climbed through the window and unlocked the front door. My stepdad told us to stay downstairs. I sat on the blue chair while my heart was in panic. I heard the footsteps of my stepdad coming down the steps. He looked at my mom and nodded his head. The tears broke out. It was the second loved one to die, but she was the closest to my heart. It wasn’t okay and I didn’t know what to do. Daddy didn’t even have a phone in the Bahamas. We couldn’t even call him to tell him that his mom had passed. My sister was the worse-off. I had never seen her like that before.
We got back in the car, and my stepdad stayed back. As we pulled out of the neighborhood, a police car was pulling in. We tried all night to get a hold of Dad, but there was just no way. I went to bed that night with my heart in angst and sadness.
But today I do not mourn, I remember. I remember the good times and all the smiles we shared with Gram. I remember our weekly trips to Dollar General and the weekend movie nights. I remember how much we all loved watching Mr. Bean together. I remember how she would make me hot tea and how she loved to eat pickles, the really big ones. (just like Snooki!) I remember her really disliking Virginians, her hometown of Pennsylvania was much better. And what I remember most about Gram is her great hugs and how much she loved her son and grandchildren.
Thursday, January 13, 2011
American Diary
I was completely amazed at the first glimpse. They were a local band from Maryland. Its members consisted of Brandon Ingley, Mikey Clark, Ben DeHan, and Brandon Reeder. I saw them for the first time on a warm night in September 2007. I remember exactly what I was wearing: splatter-paint vans, black jeans, and a white long-sleeve t-shirt. There were only a few people at the show; I’d estimate 25 people. A few bands played, and then American Diary came on last. Literally, I fell in love. I became so amazed by their excitement. I could see the love of what they do in their eyes.
Once I got home, I immediately became friends with them on Myspace. I knew I had to see them live again. So, I saw them again in early November. I remember how awesome I felt because they remembered me from the previous show. One band member even let me walk outside with him while he smoked a cigarette. I remember having some small conversation with him, but I wasn’t even listening. My mind was just saying “this is so awesome, this is so awesome.” I continued going to their shows whenever they were playing close by. Over the next year and a half, I saw them live eight times. Each time was still as awesome as the other one had been. Instead of falling in love with some boy, I fell in love with a band. I wrote my 8th grade speech on American Diary; the speech was told to the whole middle school. The last time I saw them was May 2009.
Since then, I’ve slowly fell away from my absolute love of American Diary. One of the members, Ben DeHan, left the band last year. Once that happened, the love just wasn’t the same. I’ll listen to them occasionally, but the love I had for them is just gone. But when I found out last night that this band, the band I loved dearly, is breaking up, it made me sad. My fourteen / fifteen year old heart was breaking. That’s okay though. I grew out of my love for American Diary a while ago. I just never thought this day would come. It caught me by surprise. They’re farewell show is on February 18th in Maryland. Ben, the one who left American Diary, is even going to be there. I’m hoping I’ll make it up there to have one last glimpse of their excitement that captivated me that warm September night in 2007.
Once I got home, I immediately became friends with them on Myspace. I knew I had to see them live again. So, I saw them again in early November. I remember how awesome I felt because they remembered me from the previous show. One band member even let me walk outside with him while he smoked a cigarette. I remember having some small conversation with him, but I wasn’t even listening. My mind was just saying “this is so awesome, this is so awesome.” I continued going to their shows whenever they were playing close by. Over the next year and a half, I saw them live eight times. Each time was still as awesome as the other one had been. Instead of falling in love with some boy, I fell in love with a band. I wrote my 8th grade speech on American Diary; the speech was told to the whole middle school. The last time I saw them was May 2009.
Since then, I’ve slowly fell away from my absolute love of American Diary. One of the members, Ben DeHan, left the band last year. Once that happened, the love just wasn’t the same. I’ll listen to them occasionally, but the love I had for them is just gone. But when I found out last night that this band, the band I loved dearly, is breaking up, it made me sad. My fourteen / fifteen year old heart was breaking. That’s okay though. I grew out of my love for American Diary a while ago. I just never thought this day would come. It caught me by surprise. They’re farewell show is on February 18th in Maryland. Ben, the one who left American Diary, is even going to be there. I’m hoping I’ll make it up there to have one last glimpse of their excitement that captivated me that warm September night in 2007.
Tuesday, January 11, 2011
One Word 2011
I know my word. It’s kept coming to mind, and I’ve kept disregarding it. It’s not the right word. It’s not good enough. It’s too hard. I made a list of words that I thought I’d use. This word isn’t even on the list.
Break.
I’m not talking “I’m so tired, I need a break.” I’m talking “Here’s a board, let’s break it into two pieces.” I decided to use this word on the way to school yesterday. My iPod was playing loudly through the speakers on shuffle. A song came on by Something Corporate called “Break Myself.” I listened to the song on repeat until I reached school. Although the lyrics don’t really relate to what I’m trying to do with the word, that doesn’t matter. What matters is that the song made me decide to myself that I would use this word.
My hesitations with this word are in full force. What I’m afraid of is this: I’m going to forget all about it. Even right now, in this moment, part of me wants to forget about this word altogether. It’s hard to actually attest that I want to commit to it. Part of me isn’t even ready to break. By the time I know it, December 2011 is going to be here and I wouldn’t have broken anything, and I’ll feel like I have failed. It’s weird to say “I want to break my life.” That’s not really what I’m meaning. What I mean is this:
Break.
I’m not talking “I’m so tired, I need a break.” I’m talking “Here’s a board, let’s break it into two pieces.” I decided to use this word on the way to school yesterday. My iPod was playing loudly through the speakers on shuffle. A song came on by Something Corporate called “Break Myself.” I listened to the song on repeat until I reached school. Although the lyrics don’t really relate to what I’m trying to do with the word, that doesn’t matter. What matters is that the song made me decide to myself that I would use this word.
My hesitations with this word are in full force. What I’m afraid of is this: I’m going to forget all about it. Even right now, in this moment, part of me wants to forget about this word altogether. It’s hard to actually attest that I want to commit to it. Part of me isn’t even ready to break. By the time I know it, December 2011 is going to be here and I wouldn’t have broken anything, and I’ll feel like I have failed. It’s weird to say “I want to break my life.” That’s not really what I’m meaning. What I mean is this:
Break free. Break habits. Break down walls.
Break myself into something new.
Break myself into something new.
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