Sorry Guys, FALSE POST.

I thought back to my freshman year today, something I dont do as much as I should, because I typically fail to remember how much 3 years can change you. This is what I remembered:

I was that girl. I was that naiive innocent girl who never cussed and who didn't laugh at perverted jokes because she was so sheltered. I was the one that the older kids watched what they said around. I was the little sister, kyle's little sister, and no one wanted to corrupt a little sister. I was the one who almost never cussed and people were shocked when I did. I was the one who didnt get her first kiss until the end of sophomore year. I was the one who never was in a long term relationship.


Look at me now.

As of 15 minutes from now, I will have been in a relationship for 6 months exactly. "That's what she said" jokes are my personal hobby. I love making innendos. I drop cusswords, sometimes mid-class. I'm the corruptor, the one who turns my little sophomore twin into someone with a perverted sense of humor.

Who am I?

That's just it. I don't feel any different than I did my freshman year. I still have the same friends. I still like the same things. Sometimes you're just forced to grow up I guess.


P.S. I just wrote this blog post while wearing footie pajamas and cuddling with my favorite stuffed penguin; some things never change.

You're never too old for pizza.

We're celebrating my grandmother's birthday today with pop, pizza, and potato chips. There are 5 old ladies here. I keep hearing things like the following:

Well, you see right now we're having to plan our trip to Dayton around everyone's doctor's appointments.

There are currently 4 generations of my family here, ranging from the youngest child, Audrey, of about 8 months, to my grandmother, edging on 87, which she will turn tomorrow. My aunt asked my 3 year old cousin Aiden if he could count that high and he affirmed that no, he couldnt. Five minutes later he informed us that flies poop too. We asked him who told him and he responded "Daddy did!"
The highlight of my night though, was my mom's cousin Charlie. You see, Charlie is quite the prankster. His name is used to threaten Aiden when he is misbehaving; "Aiden, if you don't stop I'll send you home with Charlie!" However, Aiden is actually quite fond of Charlie, he still responds with "NO! I DON'T WANT THAT!" Complimenting Charlie's personality, is that of my great aunt Norie. I still remember being 5 years old and being chased around my house with the eerie fortune of being tickled until I laughed so hard I cried. Now, it is imperative to know that Norie is now 76 years old. Today, while walking into the dining room, Charlie snuck up behind her and whispered in her ear "boo!" She screamed as loud as she could, and then the whole room erupted in laughter. Apparently, that wasn't the first time this has happened; They've had an ongoing battle longer than I've been alive. But of course, this wasnt the end of it. Little 3 year old Aiden made the mistake of ambling down this same stretch of carpet, right into Charlie who screamed "RAWH!" Aiden's eyes got large and his hands outstretched as he squealed a high-pitched-kid-scream, jumping like a mini basketball player in the air. Once again, we had a good laugh.
No one mentioned the missing elder. The only old man that would have been there. It seemed as though my grandpa should have been here, asleep on the chair, or talking about planes and cars. This birthday was different for Grandma, having suffered the loss of her husband as well as her best friend, only months apart. Grandpa died just this past December, but it feels like yesterday that he accompanied my grandma to our house for a myriad of celebrations. We miss him dearly, but life moves on. Everyone is an optimist, who find the best in life while they live it.
But I digress. Our conversations wandered from prank stories to jury duty; to having to watch ponographic videos at jury duty (Thanks Mary Lou); to colonoscopies; to waking up during a colonoscopi; to having fat old lady bodies, old lady pains, and old lady memories. Mary Lou brought her sister Janette whom has gone blind. She has the most soothing low honey filled voice I've ever heard, and she complimented the group of old ladies well as they sat around the table celebrating while eating Laroza's pizza. I mean, with names like Maxine, Lenore, Mary Lou, Janette, and Juanita how could you not have a good time?

Differenciating the past and present.

Take my hand, take my whole life too
For I can't help falling in love with you.

Those words were mechanical, repetitive my freshman year of high school. I can still remember the way the choir sounded. The crescendos. The forte pianos. Where my focus was. How the notes moved from my mouth to blend. One sound. One voice. One choir. This was the song we sang in Lebanon Singers my freshman year. There were people like Caleb Shiller, Derek Carrozza, Sami Szenay, Megan Neihaus, Danielle Seals, Jesse Ball, Marlee Poitinger. I looked up to them. They led the choir. We got out this music to sing again this year, and I felt I should have come full circle. Though the voices aren't the same, the emotion should be. The feeling should be.

Wrong.

Things change. To my personal opinion, the choir isn't as good. Those strong voices that I could never even compare myself are missing. That sense of family has been erased. No one really cares. Those role models, where are they? Then I realized something. I'm supposed to be that person people look up to. Those juniors and seniors I thought were so fantastic, so amazing, that's me now. Then came this thought:

I'm no longer naive; I can comprehend this song.

As a freshman singing this song the emotion is fake. How can you sing of being unable to resist loving someone when you've never actually been in love. Not true love. Not romantic love. In your innocence you know to be happy, to be lively, to smile, to exude positive energy. However, it's more than that. This song is everything. It's placing trust in another human being who is capable of hurting you. Who is capable of hurting you deep, everlasting, long term. This song is everything you try to condense with 3 words: I love you. It's aknowledging that fate brought you close to another soul. Falling in love is the most frightening, blinding thing, but this song is bold. Love makes you take a chance of being broken to find something bigger. Love makes you understand.

One of my best friends said it best (Granted, this is out of context, but it still says a lot): "Do I think it's a big deal? Absolutely. But I also think showing someone you really care about how you feel is a beautiful thing. So is the idea of loving him a little more. I think you're brave."

This reminds me of what music is supposed to convey. Music is supposed to be pure emotion. It isn't rehearsed, discussed, critiqued. Pure music is an outpouring of the soul. I think I've began to forget this. I've forgotten the power music has to affect. I've forgotten the wisdom of Mr. Beal; Hes the true epitome of music for joy. Music wasn't his job. Music was the one thing he could do for others. It was his positive good. Which is what music should be. After all the tears from Singers and Musical, I really just want to perform music for me. Not for my teacher. Not for a judge. For me. I want piano back.


Music is like pouring salt in a wound. It hurts like crap, but at the same time it discenfects.

How many hours of sleep do you think I need to function to get through tomorrow? I have some music to create.

Juxtoposition

There aren't enough words to replace
our fingers interwoven softly.
the juxtoposition of our hands.

There aren't enough words to replace
the calmness of my head on your shoulder.
Everything fits like a puzzle.

There arent enough words to replace
our smiles, our laughter. our music.
Your sparkling eyes.
Your dimples.
My smile. My skin.

Words cannot erase that distance
exists day to day to day.
The hand that reaches feels nothing.
The heart that beats still longing.

Physical silence speaks more than
voiced attraction

Time together scarce
is all that more important -
For words can no longer convey
what you mean to me.

Some days are days to burn bridges, others are days to take the water under the bridge and extinguish the fire.

:)

I just spent about 3 hours cleaning out old binders to have the bare minimum of old papers I couldnt bare to get rid of. Thank goodness, I was going crazy with all these papers everywhere. What I did find was the paper I was supposed to write the last week of my Advanced Composition class. We were instructed to write a paper as if it were a letter to someone who has significance to us/ has impacted us/ or just someone we care about. I wrote about Kyle, and made it completely sappy. Haha. Here it is :)



Big Brother
They say that friends are the family that you choose, but for some it's family members that are the friends that you choose. As a child, I always tried to emulate the mannerisms and words of my older brother. Almost three years old when I was born, my brother took it upon himself to be my "protector." When I was a baby, he would pretend to be my babysitter and notify my mom as soon as I did something remotely dangerous. But more than this protecting, he was my friend. I had a doll that went everywhere with me, like most young children. However, I liked my doll so much because she talked to me in a high, sing-song falsetto, the voice of my brother. This comedic act lasted many years. Since I was so excited for Christmas when I was small, every year I would sleep on the floor of my brother's room. We'd wake up before it was even daylight and together we'd sneak downstairs with flashlights to "inspect" our presents.
This stong family bond continued to grow as I got older. When my "boyfriend" broke up with me in the 8th grade, my brother immediately ran into my room to ask "whose butt am I Kicking?!" When most teenagers wanted nothing to do with their siblings, I clung to mine tightly. We drove to school together in his '97, green Ford Ranger, which has been (rightfully) passed down to me. We were in marching band together for two years and I couldnt have made it through without him. My brother even let me into his tight knit circle of friends, who always told me how I was "such a cutie." It was always "monkey see, monkey do"; I followed in my brother's footsteps.
As time went by, my brother graduated 9th in his class and recieved a scholarship to OSU. I had decided, upon repeated questioning, that I didn't want to follow in my brother's footsteps again. Now, when posed with the same question, I have changed my mind. I want to go to the Ohio State University. Our moments to grow up together are scarce and short and I miss his company. Though sparse, they still do exist. Recently, when my grandfather passed away, my brother and I found ourselves home alone, as our parents were dealing with family matters. It was 12 o'clock on a school night, yet we found ourselves watching the television show "Glee" (our favorite) abd having root beer floats. Thats the thing; my brother and I enjoy spending time with eachother. From waching movies like 500 Days of Summer, to playing video games like Sonic Tennis, to just talking, we really love eachother. When teachers ask "Is Kyle Montgomery your older brolther?" I'm glad to respond that, yes, we're siblings. Im proud of my brother. I truely do look up to him in all that I do.


P.S. Brother, I hid this paper between "The World's Greatest Railroad Journeys" and your Pokemon guide book if you wanted it.

I'm feeling guilty

I think Darby might blog four times as much as I do, possibly more. But then again, I also feel as though she has actual content to write about, in contrast to my sporadic babbling.

I digress.

Today I tried to do donuts. With 4 wheel drive.

This does not work. Funny, right? Megan Archer and I drove around the parking lot of a church about 100 feet from my neighborhood. We were in her car. Everytime the car began to fishtail, there would be an annoying beeping sound as her smart tires corrected themselves and gripped the slip surface. What a party pooper. Only in lebanon would driving around parking lots be considered a good time, along with spontaneous meals at Frisch's and working on group projects.

But the highlight of my day? Simple. it was after all this excitement, I was sitting in my basement, too full to move. Megan would say she was leaving, but fifteen minutes later she was still stationary. We were sitting in my basement, talking. Our phones didnt have service. The computer was off. Its these minutes that I live for. When time stands still. It's these moments when you're not bound by tights schedules and prior committments. Sometimes I get so caught up in when things are due and where Im supposed to go next that I forget to really take it all in. I've been realizing this a lot lately; I've had a life. A good friend of mine just turned 21. I've gone from dance, to marching band, to musicals, to tennis. Friends and people I've looked up to have graduated and left my life. My big brother went to college. I've grown apart from some people, and closer to others. Some people are just blurs, impacting my life and then so quickly leaving it. Gone. Others seem to stay for awhile, continuing to mold me into my present being. I can think of certain people and pinpoint exactly what their purpose in my life was, how they've helped me, and why they've had to leave. I miss these certain moments, these glimpses I have of my past, wishing I could go back and spend one more day with a certain friend, a certain group of people. Then I realize I just need to sit back and take it one day at a time. Enjoy the people Im with now; I never know how long they'll be there.
On a related note, I hope my friends are never too afraid of what I may think or say to tell me what's on their mind. Though shock may plague my initial reaction, I can't imagine anything coming between the strong friendships I've made. I found out some interesting things about one of my best friends today, but rather than judging her, or thinking less of her, the opposite happened. I'm glad to be in her life, and found some of her stories quite amusing and worthy of praise.

I love the warm fuzzy feeling I have in getting this down on paper... or, on screen rather. I love a lot of things though. In light of Valentines day coming up, I think i might list them. :)

Oreos.
Seriously. I eat them every time of day. The serving size is 2 or 3, (I dont remember which) but I eat at least 5 every time. They must be with milk, and I like them better with the cream inside than seperate.

hot tea.
Mom has a 'hot tea maker.' Most people have a coffee maker; we have a hot tea maker. It really tastes better this way. Im a lipton girl, with truvia please! Although I just tried Earl Gray's Sweet Dreams tea. It didnt make me tired.

my boyfriend.
I feel like this is obvious. Its really annoying that he lives in another school district. We'd be in all the same classes if he lived here. We're going to Alcapoco on friday with Amanda and George! He makes me happy though. Weve been dating for 4 months. :)

The phone call that means school is cancelled.
Even being half a sleep, I conciously hope that the phone ringing is good news for me. Most of the time I'm right. But I never answer; My bed is too comfortable for that.

Academic quiz team.
I am such a nerd. Academic Quiz team is sometimes the highlight of my week. I get so much adrenaline answering trivia questions. It really makes me feel smart when I know the answers.

When my dad cleans off my truck in the morning
I love little acts of kindness, but this is a big one for me. Im always running late in the morning, and when I walk down stairs realizing that I need to go start the car, only to see my keys gone, it is the best feeling imaginable. I hate mornings, cold, and scraping my windshield, my dad takes care of all three.

The sound of a choir singing harmony just right.
We're singing the National Anthem at the game on friday. The arrangement is really dissonent, and when we sing it just right I have to suppress a huge smile. This is why Im in choir but these moments seem to have become few and far in between since the directors change. I still remember almost crying while singing Come on in from the Outside and Iris last year, and the chills I got every time. I really miss that.

Realizing I know exactly who my three best friends are.
One has been my best friend consistantly since the 7th grade. She knows its her 'duty' to be there for me, to protect me, and to cheer me up. One has been here less than a year. (Shes probably reading this right now) We both need eachother for different reasons, but we know the other is there if we ever need to reach out. The third has been my best friend multiple times in my life. We were close because of band, but then I made things difficult. We've gotten back to that really close status recently. I cant believe we ever grew apart. Shes the person who can make me laugh more so than anyone else. ever.
My brother.
I got a voice mail from him today. He didnt want to make phone calls for Buckeyethon, so he called me instead. I about died. I really miss him at college, but we've developed a happy medium of contact. I love when he tells me about his life at college, and hes a major reason as to why I want to go to OSU. Im always striving to achieve like he does.
Stuffed animals
Theres a penguin right next to me. Its from thing number 3. What a dork.


That my dad likes kid television.
we watched both Ella Enchanted and the Princess Diaries 2 in the past week. I occasionally walk in on him watching Hannah Montana. But his favorite show is iCarly. He likes the character Sam; He thinks shes funny.

sleep.
Thats my way of saying Im tired. I hope I hear that phone call in the morning!

-Kels

The price of creativity

Today I spent almost 200 dollars at Joann Fabrics.

Granted, I bought 21 yards of fabric about 100,000 beads, 6 spools of thread, and a zippper. I still spent the abserd ammount of $190 dollars, WITH having several 40% off 1 item coupons and 15% off of everything else. Thus, this is the price I pay for a unique, one of the kind, hand beaded prom dress and a design of my own creation. However, I would be no where without three very important people: My mother, Connie Miller, and Bunny Brooks.
First of all, my mother is paying for me to take sewing lessons because she knows just how much I've loved sewing since I started to make doll clothes at age six. Secondly, she's kept me in budget, in line, and making the right choices. I now have a massive amount of chiffon, satin, and lining in the color "blue radiance" which compliments my skin color, and makes my indecisive eyes just the right shade.
The second person I have to thank is Mrs. Connie Miller, who has dealt with my sewing mistakes, my indecisiveness, and my moments of stupidity. Because of her, I have a pattern for a dress exactly how I want it, with the fitting and design tweeked to perfection. A circle skirt instead of princess seams, a lower back, a butterfly, all of this has been her doing. In the coming weeks I will be making my creation a reality, with the careful guidance of her.
Lastly, I have to thank Mrs. Bunny Brooks, who is my College life skills teacher, my mother's good friend, and a major part in my fabric purchases. She met me at Joann's today in her spare time and used her teacher discount on my purchase. She also got the cashier to let us use 3 40% off coupons instead of just one. She claimed we were "doing a school project" (hey, its a strech!) and continued to chat with the cashier, her knitting teacher, as she casually got her way. Being a home-ec major, she also was able to make sure I took necessary precautions: getting all my fabric off the same bolt, copying down washing instructions, getting extra thread (a color darker!) and advising me to pre-wash my fabric. During this adventure, I also got to hear many upon many stories of Lebanon in the Brooks/Pomeroy era, circa 1970-1973, as she and my mother reminisced about school. I love living in a small town.
At last, This is my support group, the three women I know will be watching over me as I embark on my quest for the perfect prom dress; They'll keep me on track to making a breathtaking masterpiece of satin and chiffon... I hope.

Did I mention I'm entering a contest?

-Kels

Can I throw it against the wall?

Darby just told me that I "havent written in 8000 hours" or something like that. So I will complain here, as it is 11:44 at night and I'm about to fly off the handle. Here is why:

My cell phone deleted my contacts. Again.

I'll be honest. I have problems with cell phones. The first one I ever had, I busted with my butt by sitting on it. The second one I had I did multiple things to. I busted the screen a month after getting it while at a Jonas Brothers concert. After a myriad of drops, slips, oops, and whatnots, it had ended up missing a panel on the side, 3 keys, had a crack in the other, and the back had to be taped on. Annoyed by this, I went to best buy and spent an absurd amount of money on an outdated sidekick. (Hey, it had a keyboard!) I thought that its larg size and sturdy feel would mean I wouldnt be able to destroy it. Sadly, by getting it at Best Buy, I fell prey to the fact that it doesnt work correctly with our cell phone plan. In a nutshell, it deletes everything saved on it periodically.

After all my contacted being deleted for what seemed like the twenty third time, I decided I needed to be proactive. I dug out my old phone in all its missing-part glory. I then found my mother's identical phone. (Incidentally, she sent hers through the wash, making it not work either.) Taking the best of both phones, I constructed a new one. It has the shell of my mother's, but the guts of mine.

Somehow it knew. This phone has a personality. And it doesn't like me. I got the stupid thing together, breaking 2/3rds of my fingernails in the process. Grinning in my success, I turned the phone on. The first time I did so, it froze. The second time it decided to not allow me to use any buttons. The third time I couldnt open up a blank text messages. One time it just didnt turn on.

I was so frustrated I came within inches of throwing it against my wall. (I decided against this; I like my wall too much) I contemplated defensenstrating it. Or maybe running it over with my '97 Ford Pick up. I finally decided to leave it in peace while I wrote this blog about it.

I just got it to work, this very moment as I type this sentence.
My reward? All my old text messages from a year ago are still on here. I love to save old text messages. I just dug up flirtacious text messages from 3 guys. (Darby, you know them. Remind me to show you some.)

Sadly, I must be one of those teenagers that can't live without her phone for a day. But, alas, Im extremely glad to have this tiny phone back. Maybe this time it won't self destruct.

G'night.
-Kels

UPDATE.

I really must have no life.. 6:20 AM and I am on my computer. But I can do this because Lebanon City Schools are closed today. However, Springboro is still only on a two hour delay. Yes, I am going to brag about my lack of school today.

But before I do anything, I am going back to bed. Good night... I mean morning... I mean... you know what I mean.

-Kels

Teachers. Gosh.

Hello all. Apparently my lengthy complaint of the school worked; Today was a snow day! Thus, I slept until noon, and then got caught up on my school work. (more or less.)

As I was studying for my english essay, I decided to type one of the sentences from the essay prompt into the lovely, unparalleled google search engine. Alas, I found all of our possible prompts and links to sites that would assist in the support of each essay. One one hand, I was thrilled to dig up information to add to my essay tomorrow. On the other, I was appauled to find that my teacher took the lazy way out and just chose topics for an essay from the internet. Yet, this same teacher does this all the time. It seems to me that as a teacher you should be well versed in the subject that you're are teaching, therefore not requiring the use of outside sources for all questions and prompts. I lose a little respect for my teachers everytime I find something similar to this. Teachers expect students to use their knowledge in answering questions, writing, and doing homework, yet are allowed to blatantly copy things of the internet. Shouldn't teachers have the same expectations for themselves as for their students? ...At least I'll do well on the essay tomorrow I guess.

Speaking of tomorrow, it's still snowing. Lebanon Christian is closed again, and most the schools I mentioned yesterday are delayed tomorrow as well. Lebanon city schools, please don't let me down this time! A four day weekend would be awefully considerate of you as I need the extra time to prepare for exam week next week.

-Kels

That glittery white death. It's coming!

Hello!

For those of you who care, and by that I mean no one, I'm currently procrastinating the massive amounts of studying I should be doing for my Huck Finn essay and Spanish oral exam and giant vocab test and Chemistry quiz in the hopes that there is no school tomorrow. If there is school, my grade just might have to suffer.

This brings me to what I'm about to ramble about.

Lebanon City School's knack for tending to choose the completely wrong thing to do every time it snows. I can think of multiple instances: My freshman year we went to school without a delay and 3 inches of fresh snow on the ground. A few weeks ago the same thing happened to a lesser extent. As recently as this morning, I was rear ended on my way to schoool, and almost got hit by the much larger truck that couldnt stop in the parkinglot. (This truck could have eaten my lovely ford ranger for breakfast.) Currently, most of the schools in the area are on some form of delay to wait to observe the impending doom that is the snow coming through tomorrow. I can very easily see Lebanon waiting, sending all of the students to school, only to turn around and send them home at noon because the snow is getting to intense.
In making these decisions, not erring on the side of caution, the school system administration endangers it's earliest arrivers: High school students new to the road. Most of LHS's students, myself included, arrive at school in the winter before daylight. This added obstacle makes traveling to school especially difficult while already dealing with a myriad of challenges of early morning driving; Students typically have older models of cars, some not too fit to drive in snowy conditions, as well as the factors of temperature, visibility, novice driving, and attention to morning grogginess allof which affect this morning commute. When there is any plausible chance of hazardous road conditions, a logical conclusion would be to protect a school's students by delaying a minimum of an hour to get to school. This added hour allows road conditions to improve, as well as students to drive to school in day light, able to intently pay attention as they make their way to school.
What is problematic about a delay? The full school day is still counted, while students, either driving or being driven, are safer. Classes are shortened a minimal amount which teachers are familiar with, as every Wednesday classes are shortened an hour for teacher meetings after school. Also, the administration can watch the weather and road conditions further to conclude whether they are improving or worsening, and potentially increase the delay or cancel school. Thus, the school system would not be stuck in the position of sending it's students home early in a potentially dangerous situation.

This being said, currently Lebanon has no delay, whilst Middletown, Mason, the Lakotas, Kings, Fenwick, Farfield, and Edgewood are on two hour delays and Little Miami is on a one hour delay. Lebanon Christian Schools are closed.

Good thing Springboro isn't on a delay as well; then it'd be personal.


Thus ends my rant. In other news, the dictionary.com Word of the Day is flibbertigibbet. It means "a silly, flighty, or scatterbrained person, especially a pert young woman with such qualities." This is my new favorite word; It describes me well.

In other other news, LHS JV Academic quiz team is currently undefeated, as I truly show my geekyness. It's like an unhealthy obsession with Jeopardy.

Goodnight! Wear your PJ's inside out and backwards, throw an ice cube in a toilet, or put a spoon under your pillow. Just do whatever you superstitiously do to bring on the snow please.

-Kels