Who am I? I am a Francophile.

Do you ever catch yourself singing the national anthem of France?

No?

(see https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4K1q9Ntcr5g if you're unfamiliar with it)

Well, I do...not that I know the words as yet, no, but the tune?  Stuck in my head.  All the time.

Why?

You might think it's because my musical brain just catches things in its trap to release into song at a later date, and you wouldn't be far off.

But the fact that it's the anthem of France, and not some place like Argentina or the UK, should tell you something.

That something?

I am obsessed with anything and everything French.

It started out as an excuse to take something other than math or science or even English in high school.  Why take those boring gen eds when you can take a foreign language?

(I took French, German, and Spanish, because I could)

It didn't take long for me to realize that French was the language for me.  It flowed off the tongue like water from a pitcher, it involved creative (and therefore difficult, making it more impressive that I accomplished it) spelling, and it turned out that most of my favorite fairy tales came from the French lore.

(think Sleeping Beauty, Beauty & the Beast, Cinderella...)

I quickly cast aside my other languages and delved into the beauty that is French.  I learned songs, I read books, I started writing my diary in French...

(though I laugh at all I wrote, but I digress)

I found my first love in a high school French class, which only solidified my love for the language (though I'll always have a better accent than him, haha), and the romanticism never died.

When I was about twenty, I had the opportunity to travel to Haïti (before the earthquake), and within ten days, I was speaking like a native, and life was damn near perfect.  Why wasn't I born a Frenchman? I thought.

Six years later, French still holds a fascination for me.  I often find myself watching Disney movies in French (thanks to that first French class, and Madame Jennifer, who let us watch La Belle et la Bête), I have several shelves of French books in my library, and when I'm having a really bad day, I just tell myself, someday, Em, you're going to run off to Paris.

And life will be great.

Because I am a Francophile.

Who am I? I am an Artist.

I am an Artist.

That word can have many different connotations, apply to many different fields, from music to science to philosophy to actual paint-and-brush art.  I would like to speak on the latter this evening.

Not necessarily with paint and brushes, no, but with pencil and paper.

Though most of my creative bents involve music or writing, I've always had a soft spot for drawing.  I can admit to still having a few clumsy things I drew in primary school (though they rarely leave their box), though my first real interest in drawing started in the fourth grade when I transferred schools.

It was a small, faith-based private school, and to be honest, they didn't have much for faculty.  With few (very few) exceptions, the homeroom teacher taught every single class.  And while Mr Johnson was a heck of a choir teacher, he really was not much of an artist.  One week, though, I can't recall if he was out sick or if the administration just wanted a change in pace, we had a substitute come in and teach art (and maybe another class, English, I think).  She was young, bright, just married, and very creative.  She drew these quirky little characters reminiscent of a cartoon alien, and she used bright colors and though I'm sure, considering the environment we were in, she was very conservative, but she just seemed so magical and light, and I remember all that week struggling to emulate her style, to draw something so beautiful that she would praise me in front of the class, and I could gain a reputation as a cool artist chick instead of just that weird transfer girl.

Praise was inevitable, of course; I mean, come on, we were in fourth grade, what was she going to do, tell me I sucked?

Because I really did.

But I had so much fun, and whenever I can now, I try to take a little time to draw something, and maybe to improve upon my skills a little.

That picture above?  I drew that my senior year of high school.  A little simple, perhaps, but a big step up from where I started, and though I feel I can do better now, it's still one of my favorite pieces.

And who knows, maybe if I keep getting better, my publishers will let me design my own cover for my books...

Since I am an Artist, after all.

Who am I? I am Smart.

I am Smart.

You might think that's a pretty egotistical thing to say, and I won't say you're wrong if you do.

But it's also the truth.

I get things.  My mind is full of information that I may never actually use, but it's stuck there, regardless.  I can recite lines from plays, tell you the definition of fifty-cent words you'll probably never use in daily life, mix chemicals in a lab without blowing up, give you the first thirty digits of phi () --also known as the Golden Ratio-- and a plethora of other things...  I make references to history, psychology, sociology, mathematics, without breaking a sweat because it's all right there in my mind.

If you teach me something once, it's unlikely you'll have to teach it to me a second time unless you're just a terrible (read: boring, not inadequate) teacher.  Stuff stays in my head, flowing on a constant cycle of 'Do I need this information right now?' or 'Why did I think this was important?' among other questions that often keep me awake long into the night just trying to calm my brain down.

As you might expect, though, there are downsides to this brand of intelligence.

I am bored, very easily, because I just get things too fast and then it seems pointless to give the subject any more attention.  Sometimes I over-think, over-analyze, what to the average masses might seem simple problems.  Sometimes I turn into that most hated of all people --the 'Know-It-All,' and though perhaps in that instance I really do know it all, I come off as just obnoxious instead.  Or mean.  Or condescending.

(I might have a superiority complex when it comes to my brain and others'.)

Combine brains with a highly hormonal physique, and we can go the complete opposite and say that I'm stupid.

I will devote hours upon hours to memorizing sheet music (though it doesn't actually take that long to memorize, just to play it correctly) because it makes me happy.  On the other hand, I will spend five minutes studying for a test that probably needed a few hours itself because it upsets me.  I will read thousands of books that I discovered in the corner of a bookshop or the back room of a library.  I will not read a single page of a book you told me to read for class.

It's a strange dichotomy, balancing emotions and logic, and I guess I haven't managed it yet.

But you can challenge me all you want; I'm still gonna say the same thing:

I am Smart.

(And for the record, I probably think I'm smarter than you.  Just sayin'.)

Cheers.

Who am I? I am a Perfectionist.

per·fec·tion·ism  /pər ˈfɛk ʃə ˌnɪz əm/

noun

1. any of various doctrines holding that religious, moral, social, or political perfection is attainable.

2. a personal standard, attitude, or philosophy that demands perfection and rejects anything less.

You know those people who are super anal retentive and make you want to scream because nothing is ever 'just right?'

I'm one of those people.

Oh, you may not see it, and you may think that can't be true; I mean, please, the girl is in an area of study where perfection is literally impossible, she's messy, lazy, she can barely keep her GPA above 2.5...

Where is this 'perfection?'

I am a Perfectionist in that I will play the piano until my hands bleed so I can get that one section sounding anywhere close to what the composer might have wanted.

I am a Perfectionist in that if I cannot take complete notes in a class, I will stop taking notes altogether because I believe in the possibility of impossibility.

I am a Perfectionist in that I will try this spice and that spice and maybe one or two more before I decide to write down a recipe in my notebook.

I am a Perfectionist in that I will erase and rewrite and erase and rewrite and then grab an entirely new sheet of paper so it looks like I didn't have to try at all.

I am a Perfectionist in that I will not let myself have any sort of fun until I am certain I can do nothing more to make my work the best it can be.

And yes, I fall short.  I make mistakes.  I am lazy sometimes, and no matter how often I clean my room, it always looks like a tornado spun through it the next day.

And I beat myself up for that.

But I keep moving forward.  I still strive for perfection.

Because I am a Perfectionist.

Cheers.

Who am I? I am a Girl.

[The following is the first in a series of 'Who am I?' blogs, that will hopefully give you a little more insight into the person that I am.  Any and all comments are appreciated.  Cheers.]

I am a Girl.

First and foremost, I am a Girl biologically.  I have double-X chromosomes, I have more estrogen than testosterone flowing through me, I can't pee standing up, and I have this lovely friend I like to call 'Red' that shows up once a month or so.  I have breasts that are uneven and probably always will be no matter what oils or creams I decide to use.  I am not as strong as my male counterparts, and I am not as tall, and though I might bemoan that on occasion, I console myself with thoughts of the future generations I will someday (literally) give birth to.

Secondly, and though this may be due to some of that biology, I am a Girl emotionally.  I cry.  A lot.  At movies, books, commercials, children playing in the park, puppies being taken for a walk, broken dishes, burnt food, misspelled words, clothes that don't fit right...I cry.  And I'm sensitive.  If you yell at me (whether it's about me or just in my direction), I take it personally.  If you're hurting, I'm hurting.  If you're happy, I'm (usually) happy, too...unless I'm jealous.  Which I am, a lot.  Jealous of your lifestyle, jealous of your children, jealous of your apparent ease with which you glide through life.  I scream, I rant, I rave, at all the things I love and hate (and all the things I can't decide which I feel).  I have super highs and abysmal lows.  I feel things, and I feel them deeply.

Third, I am a Girl spiritually.  I have a distinctly childish (a distinctly girlish) way of seeing the world.  I believe in fairy tales.  I don't understand why God gave me naturally blonde hair when I clearly look better as a red-head.  I am impulsive and selfish and scatter-brained in ways I can't even begin to count, most of them to my detriment.  I learn, but at a slow pace.  I wait for the world to come to me rather than going after it.  I dream big...and I am afraid of those dreams.  But I'm dancing and singing non-stop along the way to distract myself.

Who am I?

I am a Girl.

If I could turn back time...

To my ten-year-old self, here are a few tips...

Number one
Don't worry about modesty.  I mean, okay, don't go running around being an idiot, and if Mom tells you to do something (or wear something), you should do it.  But some day you're going to model for the life-drawing class in college, and though that might seem awkward, it's actually really cool...and the pay is keeping you alive.  (Should I add an addendum on saving money or can you figure that out on your own?)

Number two
You're probably missing your friends.  Transferring to a new school has a tendency to produce that side effect.  But, and not to be a downer, you're not really going to be talking to those kids much in the future anyway.  The few you keep in touch with you're probably better off forgetting...though I will say you should be nicer to Kelsey, but that's a whole 'nother ball of crazy.  And no, you're not going to make many friends at the new place, or the next one, and the one after that you'll have some good times, but time goes on and people just drift apart...you probably already know that you're the awkward one socially.  Making friends is hard.  But the ones you do make and manage to keep are amazing, and well worth the wait.  The rest?  You can write about them in your first novel.

Number three
Have you already taken that stupid dare?  You've just cemented yourself as the weird new transfer student.  But that's okay.  Some people can't handle your awesome.  Some people are snobs that really aren't worth your time, no matter how 'popular' they might be.  So keep on taking dares, keep making bets.  Because you might be telling the world how strange you are.  But you're also telling them that you're fearless, and you have nothing to hide.

Number four
The only thing Allie is good for is getting you into romance novels.  Okay, so maybe she's good for nothing after all.  But when you meet her, and no, I won't tell you when that is, don't shy away.  She may be crazy...but a little crazy is going to help you become the multi-faceted and intense person you are.  And again, you can add that crazy to your writing --trust me, it's a gold mine.

Number five
Piano is king.  You're probably excited for the possibility of learning something other than a recorder --and you'll get to other things soon enough-- and that's a good thing.  If you can, try to keep that excitement up.  I know you get bored easily, but the piano is going to literally save your life some day.  So keep it up.

Number six
Wait for happily ever after.  Or rather, don't.  I get it, I really do; Sleeping Beauty is STILL my favorite movie.  But you can't live your life expecting the fairy tale to just show up.  Not at sixteen, not at eighteen, not at twenty-one...and not at twenty-six, either.  Happily ever after is not a guarantee for you to actually be HAPPY.  You have to make your own happy.  And it's going to be a struggle.  But though you might not know it, you have so much support coming at you from so many directions.  Think you're going to fall down?  I guarantee there's someone close to help you back up.

And finally, smart girl, don't be such a slacker.  You're better than that.

And some day, you're going to rule the world.

Cheers.

Dream Big

I recently watched the Disney/Pixar movie Up! (no, not for the first time, but the first time in awhile, anyway), and I found myself caught by the adventure book that Carl and Ellie had made.

(Or I guess Ellie made it, but it was for both of them, so...)

I'm not much for scrap-booking, no, but like Carl and Ellie, I have a lot of dreams, a lot of crazy things I want to do, places I want to go...so I was thinking, to hold myself sort of accountable to those things, I might as well write them down...and share them with you, so you can remind me, too. :)

So here we go...

(In no particular order.)

1. I want to travel all over Europe.
   (And to Japan and Korea someday, too.)
2. I want a big fancy dress when I get married...but I want a wedding with just me, my fiance, a judge and a witness or two.
   (Though if he wants something bigger, I suppose I'll cave.)
3. I want a library of my own.
   (Think Beauty & the Beast or Gosick.)
4. I want to perform on stage.
   (Professionally, I mean, not just for an undergrad recital.)
5. I want five kids of my own.
   (And to adopt one or two older kids, as well.)
6. I want to be on the New York Times Best Seller list.
   (Several times.)
7. I want to write an opera or a musical.
   (That is, I want to finish writing them.)
8. I want to get a couple more degrees.
   (In writing, sociology, history, to name a few.)
9. I want to study in Paris.
   (Or Prague, either will do.)
10. I want to cook everything.
    (And eat it, too.)
11. I want to learn how to play the French horn or the trombone.
    (To play them well, that is.)
12. I want to celebrate Mardi Gras in Brazil.
    (Because New Orleans isn't good enough.)
13. I want to draw a comic book.
    (Even if I never publish it.)
14. I want two dogs and a cat.
    (A big dog, a little dog, and a female cat who will dominate the both of them.)
15. I want to go to some sort of convention.
    (Not music, but for nerds or otakus or what have you.)
16. I want to cosplay in public on a normal day.
    (Though should I go steam-punk or Holo the Wise Wolf?)
17. I want to rule the world.
    (In a 'peace on earth' sort of way, not Pinky & the Brain.)

So.

Romance

Adventure

Fame

Insanity

Dream big?

[Despite the fact that I'm obviously not sleeping at this delightful hour of the morning.]

Cheers.

Colder than a Witch's Tit...

Photo by Tiffany Personett, taken sometime in December,
but germane to the topic at hand anyway.

Sometimes I wonder where colloquial phrases like that come from...

But mostly, I'm bemoaning the fact that I for some unknown reason decided to stay in the northern part of these great United States instead of joining my family in their more southerly location.

25 degrees yesterday, 19 this morning...though fine, it's warmed up to 28 (I use the term 'warm' very loosely), and yes, I know, in places like Minnesota and Wisconsin it's even colder (currently -2°F and 1°F, respectively, and apparently feeling --because weather feels now?-- about twenty degrees less), so maybe I shouldn't complain.

But I'm cold.  And no matter how many layers I put on, it gets colder.  And though I pay several grand a semester for my room and board, we don't have a working heater in our apartment.  That is, it never gets warmer than the mid-fifties, which really isn't conducive to studying or sleeping well, let me tell you.

To keep this from being too whiny, though, I'm going to try and focus on the positives...

1. I have a roof over my head.
   I may have mentioned this previously but Billings has a really high percentage of homeless citizens, and though I joke that every bad thing that happens is good for my writing, I'll just thank God I haven't fallen that low and leave that bit of experience to my imagination.
2. The oven works beautifully.
   I haven't done it often because I feel wasteful, despite the fact that my rent covers all utilities and will not go up if I over-do it, but I have on occasion turned on the oven, opened the door, and just sat down in front of it, basking in that tiny bit of warmth...
3. I have a credit card for J.C. Penney's.
   Why is this relevant, you might wonder?  The other day, somehow I sensed there was going to be a drop in temperature, and so I went out and bought three new sweaters.  Yes, I still need layers, but I can be fashionable while I'm at it.  Plus I found some fuzzy socks on sale, and you really can't go wrong with fuzzy socks.
4. I have more tea than I know what to do with.
   Drinking tea not only warms the body, but it warms the soul as well.  Plus it's a nice reprieve from the chill in the air to have a hot mug in my hands.
5. The heat in the music building is working.
   Though I have to make the trek through the cold to get there, I can spend hours playing piano and let the heat permeate through me, which in turn gives me a warmer sound, since my fingers aren't frozen on the keys.

So it is colder than a witch's tit outside.
Should have figured, January in Montana, right?

Well, here's to staying warm.

Cheers.

New Year's Greetings and Odd Ponderings

So I'm back in Big Sky Country after an almost-month-long visit along with my family along the Gulf Coast, and I have to say...

I am so glad to be back.

Not to say I didn't have a good time, because I did; I had a great time.
But as I said in my last post, I'm a pretty big introvert, and even family is hard to deal with, especially when it's as big as mine, so I felt a little ragged trying to maintain my calm.
Plus, as much as I love my Grandma, there are just some things we will never see eye-to-eye on.  And that's totally okay, really.  Though I finally understand why some of my sisters like to argue so much...who knew that was something that could be passed on genetically?
But I did have a great time, those few hiccups aside, and I hope I can do it again soon.
The pool, the beach, the sunshine...
I could write odes to that glorious circle of fire in the sky, but I won't bore you with that drivel now.
Suffice to say, it was the heat that made my vacation as amazing as it was, and if I have on regret about coming home, it's that I have to pile on the layers once more.

But I am glad to be back home, and here are a couple reasons why...

1) My kitchen is mine.
   Yes, I have a roommate, and yes, sometimes she cooks, but the cleaning, the organizing, the bakings...that's all mine.  And while I did learn a few interesting things cooking with my Grandma, it's nice to have my own space again.

2) I have my own bed again.
   I guess, for the first week or so of my visit, I did have my own bed.  And then my sister came and we'd already agreed that she would bunk with me, and it's not like she kicks out or steals the covers or anything, so it should have been great.  Except she refuses to cuddle, and though that might be a silly thing to take issue with, if I'm going to have someone else in bed, I need to cuddle.  I can't sleep comfortably if I have to make certain there's at least six inches of space between us, because I'll be so focused on staying still, I'll wake up achy and sore the next morning and...well, now that I have my own bed again, I don't have to worry about that, so yay...

3) I have more than one kind of tea.
   My Grandpa actually looked at me weird when I asked if he could pick up some Earl Grey, not because he didn't know what it was, but because it was apparently ludicrous that I actually drank tea in the first place.  To each his own, I guess.  And though he did get it for me, it's nice to come home and see a box full of a million (or maybe just eight or nine) different kinds of tea

4) Two words: water pressure.
   There was an excellent water heater on the premises, and I was able to take forty-five minute or longer showers whenever I wanted...but the water pressure, at least in my bathroom, was really low.  I was too exhausted when I got home last night to do much more than unpack a few essentials and fall into bed, but when I got in the shower this morning, the difference was immediately evident, and I can't help but thank God that, even if living in dorm apartments is sub-par, at least the showers are amazing.

5) The school internet is surprisingly amazing.
   I say surprisingly because usually it's slow as all get out, but I currently have a full five bars, and though I know school doesn't start until Monday, I also know that the majority of students have returned already to prepare for that start, so I'm assuming they did something to boost the signal over break.  And it's not like there wasn't internet on the Gulf, no.  But I didn't want to haul my computer three rooms over just to get the signal when it started to flake out.  (This being why I didn't post another bit previous to this.)  So hopefully I can catch you up on other things that have been going on, too, if this keeps up.

6) People expect you to play piano at inopportune times.
   My grandparents have an amazing Steinway in the front parlor, a baby grand, and it's beautiful and so responsive and I just love it...but though I've discovered that everyone is on board with my musical talents, everyone is not so on board with me practicing whenever I want to.  Though I did a lot, but there were moments I could just feel the need to ask me to stop and wait until they were out running errands or something.  And then when I wanted to play through some of my pieces, someone would come up and demand that I play Christmas carols for awhile, and though it's good for my sight-reading, I could have used more time on the things I've actually been assigned...but now that I'm back, that won't be a problem.

7) I don't have to hold my tongue.
  Well, it's not like I wanted to call people every name in the book, but when you're around family, tensions are bound to rise, and sometimes I just wanted to scream or cry...sometimes I did cry.  Now, though, I can say whatever I want...or just put it behind me like a mature young adult, and be grateful that I even had the opportunity to fight, because it's hard to do that over the phone, you know?  And when I see everyone next, it'll just be a hazy memory, and if we fight again, we fight, and if not, then who cares?

So it's a new year, and between getting used to writing 2014 on everything and surviving another semester, here are a few of my New Year's Resolutions:

• Write to and/or call my far-away friends regularly.
• Keep up and even add to my exercise routine.
• Eat healthier and minimize my snacking.
• Get rid of the things that clutter up my life (literally and figuratively).
• Add to my savings, whether for a rainy day or so I can eventually buy a house or something.
• Work harder on my classes than I ever have before and make this year really count.

Some of that's simple, some of it's vague, some of it's just plain impossible...
     (Though I have recollections of someone telling me 'Nothing is impossible.')
But it's where I'm at, and what I need to do.

Hope this new year finds you well, and I hope you manage to survive the insanity that is life alongside me.

Cheers.