I find it simply incredble. How is it possible that things can blend so well? Smoothies, slushies, those classic pairs like peanut butter and jelly amd salt and pepper. Clouds and sky, the colors of a sun set or sun rise. More than that. How is it that beings as flawed, as messed up as humans like you and me can make such beautiful music? How is it that we are worthy to be able to listen whenever we want to the sounds of a guitar or a sax or a harp or the voices of a chorus? Surely we havent done anything. As i sit in chapel, especially fridays which are singing chapels, i wonder to myself why im so blessed as to go to a school like i do where practically everyone was born singing perfect harmony. Im not sure all church of Christ people really experience singing like somebody raised Lutheran does. I truely appreciate the fact that im not the only alto in a congration of 200.

Sometimes i think i dont agree with the things i think.

Just A Day (name pun. ha)

The feel of summer was palpable. When I woke up I could smell it in the air, feel it all around me. All my senses struggled to keep me in bed or drag me outside to lie in the grass; they wanted me to do anything but go to school. My alarm didn't quite agree with my senses plans. My iHome blared its second round of Relient K while I slothfully rolled out of bed, smashed the off button, and began my day. I pulled up to the school with few minutes to save before seven o'clock rolled around and my bible class began. The teacher passed out the test of the day and I nonchalantly passed it back to him. Due to illness I had missed the Thursday and Friday before the Monday test and was unprepared to say the least. Seated in my back, right corner desk, I took up my copy of The Road from Coorain and strove to finish the seventh and eighth chapters in order to prepare myself for the impending quiz. Classmates began to finish their tests and trickle out of the room; I followed when the timing seemed right. I paid little attention to those I passed in the halls; they're just other teenagers doing the same things I was. Nothing special. I traveled absentmindedly down a few more halls and up a flight of stairs before reaching Room 200, the classroom of my former Algebra I teacher, and now the place of congregation for my friends and I. Two of my clique, crew, gang, posse were already there waiting for me. The seasoned teacher took pity on the souls of my sick friend and my recovering self and threw us tiny fruit snack packets. "You need your Vitamin C," he said. I looked at the package. "Full of Vitamins A and E!" I looked at him. Joker. As the bells sounded, i trudged to my first period, Geometry. Geometry, though always fast in passing and little fuss, had, since the beginning of the year, been the class I enjoyed the least. I felt no challenge, and when I was confronted with a challenge, I was not motivated near enough to do anything about it. My classmates made it more than endurable. The track star and prized soprano in front of me, the basketball and softball playing goof, the cheerleader, another softball player, and the occasional football manager, track whiz, and artist to my right got me daily through the fifty minutes. We moved on to our second periods. Shakespeare greeted me as we opened the glorious Hamlet.


Still not done.

Round One

So i learned some things in Chicago.

I love singing,
a cappella,
my friends,
pillow fights,
being locked in bathrooms,
Dunkin' Doughnuts,
bus rides,
ipods,
iphones,
Ferris wheels,
those giant spinny swing things,
pictures,
Rachel,
Melora,
Melanie,
Bonnie,
Catchphrase,
sandwiches,
Jesus,
dancin,
Anne,
Katie K,
Candace,
walkin,
bus tours,
boat tours,
not the cold,
Chicago,
and many other things.

I learned that if we wanted to, we could have made it on Oprah. Chicago Round One taught me many things. I even gained a new friend or two. So good job Chicago.