Photos

So I decided that I quite liked putting that picture of my puppy dog on here yesterday, and was thinking that perhaps I ought to post some more of my favorite pictures. Not necessarily of my dog, just of stuff. I got a really good camera (a Canon Eos Rebel... something) for Christmas a few years ago, and tend to forget it when I need it most while I take thousands of pictures while I am bored out of my mind. Here are some of my favorites from recently: 

These are my quite dead pointe shoes, that, according to Mr. Pointe-Shoe-Fitting-Guy, are "terrible." I personally didn't think that they were that bad. Oh, well. They look nice in this picture. 

This is me, pretending to be "artistic" and meaningful. It didn't work too well. 

It's me again, taking pictures of myself in the car window while waiting for the door to be unlocked by my mother (I can't wait till I can drive!) 

This here is a picture of a wonderfully fantastic, deliciously amazing chocolate cake made by my aunt for my cousin's thirteenth birthday. Happy birthday, cousin! 

Those disgusting red converse there? Those are my favorite. I would wear them every day if my mother let me. Unfortunately, she doesn't. In fact, just about every week, she asks if I want new shoes. No, I DO NOT WANT NEW SHOES! I love those ones. 

This is my silly dog, looking like some sort of demented sea creature... or something. It's actually kind of a terrible picture. I don't know why I put it on here. Sorry. 

So. You have seen my pictures. You have learned about my fondness for chocolate cake and ancient, red, falling-apart converse. Now go take some of your own pictures. And, while you are at it, if you happen to have any photography tips, I am more than interested. Should anyone even be reading this.  So.... Arrivaderci! Au Revoir! Adios! 

Spring Break and Driving

Yes, it's spring break! I've been too obnoxiously busy with school recently- thus there have been no posts in the last week or two. I spent the last three days at the Broadmoor hotel in Colorado Springs, which was simply lovely. Apparently they let you bring pets, but we had to leave my dog at home:

Because he's absolutely horrid to other dogs. But isn't he cute? At this moment he's sitting atop a couch pillow in the sun. I don't question his odd behaviors. Anyhow, prior to leaving for the hotel, my dad decided he wanted to teach me how to drive (my 15th birthday is in less than a month and I'm hoping to get my permit by then!) so he had me sit in our silver Subaru in the garage for twenty minutes while I turned the key in the ignition and turned the windshield wipers on and off. It was super exciting (note the sarcasm). I was hoping to actually get to drive today but it seems that it is time for dance, so I shall go. Observe the adorable dog once more before leaving...... 

Ok good. I will post more later this week (provided there is something to write about)

Today

Observing other blogs, it has become apparent to me that my posts are far too long. Sorry. 

Waiting

Bare feet whisper across ancient wood

silent footprints in the dust. 

Tinny music filling up empty space 

pretending to break the quiet. 

Still air like an overprotective mother 

suffocating, oppressing. 

Hesitation and eagerness hang in a balance. 

Waiting

for something. 

 

New Things

My life has recently consisted of quite a lot of new things. On Saturday, I began rehearsals for Cinderella, which, while not exactly new, is different from what I had been spending my Saturdays doing. Not that my other Saturdays were oh-so-interesting, but they were at least spent at my house... in my room... not dancing. On Tuesday, I began playing tennis for my school team. Unfortunately, I fail miserably at tennis and have therefore been reduced to the JV B-team, which in no way lives up to my perfectionist expectations. I am determined, however, to do my best, and work hard to achieve higher than I am currently achieving (which really would be no trouble if I was any good at tennis). In addition to my troubles with tennis, following my struggles on the court on Mondays, Tuesdays, and Thursdays, I will attend up to three hours of dance class. So not only will I be attempting to complete homework for four honors classes, but I will also be struggling to play tennis and perfect a multitude of variations and dances for Cinderella. It makes me tired just to think about it. This week has also been the week of CSAPs, the Colorado standardized tests which involve an awful lot of sitting and completing work that is completely pointless and ridiculously boring. Such as writing an entire essay about why or why not art and music classes should be required to graduate. I thought that they already were. Who knows. Either way, I'm clear. To conclude my stints in new things this week, I have signed up for an online driving class. With my obnoxiously busy schedule, we decided it would be pointless for me to try to get my learner's permit prior to my 15th birthday on April 25th in a traditional class, so I get to be stuck on a webpage for forty minutes that takes me twenty minutes to read, and then I take a five-question quiz on the information in the passage at the end. I don't really understand how it's supposed to teach me the rules of driving that I ought to know before I sit in the driver's seat, but as long as I don't have to take the class (by the way, this is similar to my reasoning for participating in tennis, as one season of a sport replaces one semester of standard physical education) I don't really mind. So. There's my list of new things. Along with that, I suppose, should be sleep. Today. That doesn't even make sense. Oh well. What I am trying to say is that I really should go to sleep. I should close my driving website, with my time on there supposedly being 23 minutes, although I haven't really read any of it. I really should put my brand-new book in the bookshelf and kick away my library books. I ought to turn out my light and go to sleep. I can start with step one, which involves posting this and closing my computer. So good-night to you, although it most likely won't be good-night to my beautiful books. I sound insane. I promise I'm not. Really. Please don't think I'm crazy. Pleeeeeease. Thanks. 'Night. Once and for all.

Here I Am

I know that I had a reason for coming on here, but I have since forgotten it. My train of thought seems to have lead me away from where I began and therefore I am here, rather than there, where I had intended to remain so that I could write about it on this thing that has no purpose whatsoever. Maybe this blog should have a purpose. Are you interested in helping me out with that? That would be lovely. Thanks for your assistance. Not. Because you aren't there. So I am basically talking to myself. I should do something with my life, rather than dancing and sitting around here, in my house, and doing absolutely nothing. Today, I have successfully spent six hours at dance and four hours coloring and watching Disney princesses with my younger sister (who, for the record, is in the 7th grade. And yes, we colored princesses). While at dance, I learned the five fairy (including the mysterious dragonfly) variations from Cinderella (which is the ballet we are doing again this year) and sat around quite a lot. I am the winter fairy this year, and the variation is considerably easier than I thought it would be. That's always good. I am also understudy to Cinderella, which doesn't really mean anything except for that I get to spend even more time learning things that I won't ever dance. Hooray. A few weeks ago I auditioned for the Kirov Academy of Ballet, or whatever it's called, because my teacher wanted me to, and got in. Now I have a bit of a dilemma. Camp is for four weeks, and I am already going to that (of course). However, the Kirov summer program is three weeks. That would mean that I would be away from home for seven weeks. Seeing as my parents are divorced, that leaves me only about a week and a half with each parent. But the program would be fantastically amazing. Eh. Oh well. I will decide. That's what I am doing about my classes as well. I am supposed to choose my classes on Monday for next year (that's Sophomore year, folks! Thank god I will no longer be a loser of a freshman!) and I have absolutely no idea what to take. Math will be precalc and English will be American Literature. Science will be Chemistry and I will take French 3. After that, though, I am lost. I could take AP Human Geography or Ancient Civ or Ancient History. My remaining two electives could be any combination of Beginning Women's Choir, Mixed Choir, Newspaper, Yearbook, and Speech. So many decisions! I have a phobia of them. I think that the reason that nobody reads this is because my life is really incredibly boring and no one wants to read about it! If you happen to be reading this- congrats! You're probably the first. Hm. I am really good and forgetting where I begin and ending up somewhere completely different. Oh well. I am going to bed now because I feel better when I wake up early and it is nearly midnight. Buona Notte (that's Italian for "Good Night"), mie amiche (my friends... I think... I haven't taken an Italian class in a year).

And now it's Sunday...

Looks like I'm on a writing jag! This is the second day in a row that I have written on this silly thing that nobody reads. It's basically a record, especially since I haven't written since like, August. Anyway, not much has changed since yesterday, and since I haven't written any new poems I suppose I'll just have to come up with something interesting. Oh! So I have recently become obsessed with certain famous youtube-ers, like charlieissocoollike and standardtristan. If you haven't seen either of those people, I recommend you do so. Like now. *Pause while you watch their videos and laugh* Ok now that you're back... my obsession with these wonderful characters has inspired me to start my own youtube channel, but it turns out it's harder than it may seem to be funny and... well, make people watch your videos. Thus far, I have zero (0) subscribers and about five people have watched my videos. Welcome to loser-ville, Harper! Yesss that's my name. Didn't know if you knew that... Whatever. In addition to my failure at youtube-ing (is that even a thing? I don't think it's a word), I apparently fail at this "blogging" idea. I wonder what one does to make people find them on the internet. Any suggestions? Nope, because nobody is reading this. If you are reading this, feel special (because I think you're the only one) and please, please help me out. I just want someone to know that I am here. Do you ever feel like you are the only person on the entire planet that has no friends? And spends their life inside watching random people on the internet and reading books, and ventures outside only to walk the dogs and to go to dance? And that you are the only person who does their homework on a Friday night and are disappointed because your class rank is among the top fifty out of seven hundred and you'd rather be in the top ten? Maybe I'm the only weirdo like that. Who knows? Either way, my life is extremely boring. The issue with my life is that it's extremely stressful for about three days and then it's ridiculously boring for a while. My life should get fairly interesting soon. Or slightly more interesting. I will be playing tennis at my high school (because I'm in high school now!) in March, and we begin rehearsals for Cinderella next weekend, provided I'm not going to the Kirov Academy summer program audition, which I might be but I'm not sure yet. Additionally, I am trying to go to a speech and debate meet on the 12th with my drama piece, based on the novel Shug, by Jenny Han. Basically, it's a ten-minute monologue made up of sentences and pieces cut from the book and it has to be a proper story and,  because it's supposed to be "dramatic", they are generally sad. Unfortunately, my piece is not extremely sad. I am hoping that I will be able to go to the meet and see what else is out there. But we shall see. I really should go read The Odyssey. I'm procrastinating horribly. Thankfully I have already finished the rest of my homework, although I cheated a bit on my math homework because it didn't make sense so me. My math teacher has mysteriously vanished... She was gone on Friday and hasn't put any grades in all weekend, which is surely unusual for her. Sometimes she has my test graded by the end of that. Granted, I have math first period (it's awful). I have gotten very off topic. I am going to go read that ancient book that is apparently one of the best of all time. To tell the truth, I don't really understand. I get that it's important because it's so insanely old, but it is still just a book. So yeah. There's my deal for today. I really am going now. Have a lovely Sunday.

p.s. read A Mango-Shaped Space! I got it at the book store because it looked interesting and it was quite good, although I nearly cried at the end...

Saturday Morning

Today is Saturday- It's a lovely Saturday morning and I'm sitting on my bed to write this. I haven't written in quite some time. In fact, my life has changed a great deal since I last wrote. Unfortunately, after reading my last posts, I feel that my ability to write well has decreased rather a lot since I wrote them. Ah, well. I think I am a rather odd teenager because I woke up at seven thirty this morning. No, slightly before then. Is that not slightly ridiculous? I feel rather sad, because I recently discovered that this blog has only ever had ten views. And I can be fairly certain that nine of them are mine, due to my desperate searches to regain access to this dusty old site that nobody every reads. Although I could prefer this to being famous or something of the like. I mean, internet-famous. That would be weird. The main reason I spent the last fifteen minutes trying to get back on this silly old thing was because I wanted to post a few poems I have written recently. They are not particularly interesting, and nor are they particularly good, but here they are anyway:

The Day of the Ribbon Tears

If she could, she’d run away.

She’d build herself a tree house and wait for him.

Her tears would be ribbons, slipping from her pain-filled eyes.

She would sew them into a blanket, a tent,

Something to hide her from everything that hurt.

She’d try to give them away, to sell them, because she hated them,

But they wouldn’t be worth anything to anyone else.

So she’d sit beneath the pale blue sky,

Crying her silver ribbon-tears, and wishing that they’d bring him back.

She would cry mountains of them.

They would spill from the windows of her tree house,

Cascading into a silvery mess that would slither through city streets

To find him.

And then he’d know;

He would know that she was broken

Shattered

Splintered.

Like the broken pieces of a mirror.

He would feel her pain and meet her among the shadowy trees.

His green eyes would laugh and he’d take her out into the world.

He would hold her hand and they would forget that they had been something before.

She would forget that she’d thought he had lied, told her that he’d loved her

When maybe he hadn’t.

And he’d forget that he’d moved on, forgotten the first girl he’d loved,

Held another girl’s hand.

They would lie in the tall grass, marveling at the love they shared.

They would run and dance and he’d tell her just how beautiful she was

As she ran her fingers through his golden hair.

And they’d burn her silver tears in the late afternoon, and watch the smoke disappear.

And then there's this one: 

 Coming back from the Bathroom

In this nighttime house,

Darkness seeps into the corners and doorways

Like water searching for a crack

My bare legs are long

And pale, but I can’t find the moonlight

To illuminate them.

So I stand in the dark, my eyes adjusting

From the stark and sterile bathroom brightness.

Slip up the creaking, narrow stairs

In this giant, silent house.

Yellow light pours from my open bedroom door,

A slithering, watery light

Like the light I forgot to turn out

Downstairs.

And there’s a box of crayons sitting on the floor

Next to my bed.

It smells like being young.

that I wrote last night. Coming back from the bathroom. Actually, it was nearly this morning. It was eleven twenty and I still managed to get up at seven twenty in the morning, which is ridiculous for a Saturday morning. I really ought to go shower now. So here I go. Arrivaderci, my invisible readers!