I hate squirrels

Squirrels.
I hate the little boogers.
All they do is run around, gathering nuts, then they bury them, and then go run around again trying to remember where the heck they put the darn things. Then they eat them, eventually mate, have squirrel babies, and then it starts all over again.
Oh yeah, I left out the part where they get into your attic and make annoying scratching sounds above your head while you're trying to get to sleep.
That was the worst.
So we tried to put up traps to catch the rodents while they're in our attic. We set the traps out of and inside the attic, and placed tantalizing treats inside of them to lure them to their doom. Of course, the darned fur-balls developed a technique to get the food without triggering the traps.
Eventually we did trap all of the squirrels, and patched up the whole that they chewed through our house to get into the attic. It took a while, though. There were some sleepless nights involved.
But it wasn't over then. Oh, no sir-ree. That's when they targeted the bird feeder.
Our bird feeder is attached to a protruding limb from a tree right outside the kitchen window, so we can see all of the beautiful birds that come to visit. Unfortunately, the squirrels would scare away all of the beautiful creatures and stuff their unsightly faces with seeds.
So we put an anti-squirrel hood atop the feeder and sprayed it with cooking oil.
Now THAT was funny!
The squirrels would try to use it to help them get on the feeder, but finding it too slippery, would end up running in place like Scooby Doo, their stubby paws getting them nowhere. Then they'd slip off, fall to the ground, and start it all over again.
Eventually, I ended up being assigned to broom duty, and I'd chase the squirrels away with a trusty old broom. One time a member of my family threw a watering can at one of the rodents, but to no avail.
Oh well.
I hate squirrels...

Questions

Why the heck is my team losing like crazy in the stock market simulation?
Who the heck thought of Metal music?
Is God a Democrat?
How do you stop on inline skates?

Questions, questions, questions. My teachers have always told me, "Becksta, there is no such thing as a stupid question."
I beg to differ.
I think the stupidest question that I've ever heard in my life would be asked in a scenario such as this:
Two girls are standing next to each other in gym class, gossiping and twirling their golden locks of hair. Across the room, there's the dorky girl, sitting all alone, staring aimlessly into space. One of the pretty girls looks at her.
"Ugh," she scoffs in disgust. "There's so-and-so again. She's so gross!"
The other girl turns to look. "Yeah, I know!" she agrees, flipping back her hair.
Thinking that nobody is watching her, the poor so-and-so (who unfortunately is suffering from a cold) sneezes directly into her hand, and checking to see if nobody is watching, wipes it onto the floor and proceeds to pick her nose.
"Oh... my... gosh..." one of the pretty girls gasps. "Did she just do that?"

FREEZE!!

"Did she just do that?" DID SHE JUST DO THAT?
Hello!! That has to be the world's dumbest question ever! Of course she just 'did that'. I mean, you were standing right there, watching it happen with your very own eyes. DUH!
I'm sure someone will argue that it's just human habit to say that, to 'make sure we believe what we are seeing', or something to that extent.
That's why I have a backup plan.

Scenario two (this one is actually TRUE, unlike the made-up one above...):
An art class eagerly listens to their teacher's directions. The task for the students is to take a famous work of art (a painting), evenly divide it into equal sections, and assign one section for each student to paint individually. At the same time, they have to collaborate with their peers to assure that the sections look alike and fit together into a single, seamless painting. This project will be done on tiles, and will later be displayed in the school hallway.
Each student begins to plan the layout of their individual tile. They are collaborating color mixtures, where lines begin and end, and trying to find out what the heck is that thing on this part of that painting, and other things that need to be resolved before the painting. A student raises his hand, and asks a simple question: "What color do we paint the brown building?"

Wow. Nuff said.

Science

"Some day, Becksta," my wise father once told me, "you are going to wake up and find graphing data and gathering numerical information fun and exciting, like I did."

"Dad," I told him, "perchance, did you ever wake up and find that composing, arranging, and creating beautiful music fun and exciting?"

"Well, no, I didn't..."

"Case in point." I replied, smug.

Yes, I am a good math and science student.
Yes, I get good grades in school.
Yes, I to like doing math activities.
NO, I do NOT like science, data, and graphing.
Why? Because it is tedious, boring, and should be left for people who actually WANT to do it.
Have you ever been forced to do something you hate and it comes out at a much lower quality than something you did that you actually liked?

For example- say you loved drawing and painting, but you hated woodwork. You are at equal levels of excellence in both fields, yet you like painting better.
Now imagine that you are forced to do some woodwork for some odd class project. Then, in another class, you were forced to paint Joe Shmoe's portrait.
Which one would come out with a better quality of craftsmanship?
And which one will you enjoy completing more?
THE PAINTING!

It's the same for me. I am at an equal level of excellence for both music and science. However, I like preforming music more. So, which one am I more likely to choose down the road of life?
Probably music.

Thanks for listening to my rant for the day...

Political Parties

Woot woot! Party with the politians!! Let's raise the roof! Hoorah!
Haha... no.

Many people come up to ask me, "Becksta, are you a democrat?"

"No." I reply.

"Then you are a republican?"

"No," I answer. "I am not republican."

"Then what are you??" They ask me, thoroughly confused.

Loudly and proudly, I proclaim, "I'm a naive-don't-know-a-thing-could-care-less-ocrat."

Yeah, that's right! Power to the NDKATCCLocrats!
I admit, it's a very bad party to be in. As a citizen of the united states, and a servant of my nation, it is my right and duty to have the most knowledge that I can obtain about the elections and the candidates, and to vote whenever I obtain the right to.
After all, that's what the Armed Forces are fighting for.

I guess I'm just a failure.

Well, I can't vote yet anyway. :)

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

So my lips are all blown out after playing for, like, 6 hours tonight. It was the district Wind Band concert/rehearsal (again- very silly idea; I'm sure they have a reason, however...). We played some pretty awesome songs. I have to say, though, that our guest director was a tad on the nutty side.

But hey, I suppose you have to be in order to remain somewhat sane while teaching a bunch of young band students who are high on pixie sticks.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Never fear, my fellow Americans.
Although an economic slum is upon us, we will prevail...
Eventually.
I mean, we have to at some point, right? Life does go on, correct? We can't stay in this state of a cruddy economy forever and ever... RIGHT?
To be quite honest, I'm not sure that any one person (Obama or McCain alike) would be able to change and stabilize our economy. It will take some sort of group effort, a lot of money, and some good long lot of time.

I just hope it ends soon.

I hate roller coasters

I've always had this internal fear of roller coasters. Be they metal, wooden, monstrous or just the little kiddie ones, I've always hated them. Never have I gotten over the story about the kid who got his head chopped off by a roller coaster at six flags. 'Someday,' I think to myself, 'that will be me.' Of course, I won't hop two fences and a couple of "DO NOT ENTER"signs to retrieve a hat like the kid at six flags did, but that doesn't stop me from being scared to death of dying on one of the things.
So it's no wonder I find myself hating my emotional roller coasters as well.
Up... down! Left... right... upside down!!! Happy... sad... confused, happy.... then sad again! What is up with that? Can't a girl just be consistent?? Even consistently mad would be fine!
I've also noticed that the swings come in cycles. Some days I'll be as happy as a clam, and others I will be crabby for no apparent reason. And then there are 'those days'.
'Those days', the dreaded days. Those are the days where I'm as unpredictable as my baby cousin on April Fool's day. Those are the days where you see me cheerful one moment, then turn your head, look back again and find me sobbing against the wall.
Today was one of 'those days'.
Oh well, whataya gonna do?
In any case, i still hate roller coasters. Now I just hate them more.

Windy wind wind

That's what I always chant when I get up from bed in the morning as the rooster crows.
"Windy wind wind..."
Wind meaning Wind Ensemble, or Winds Band, plain old Band, or whatever you'd like to call a band consisting of wind players.
In any case, my Euphonium and are ironing our spiffy shirts and practicing hours to prepare for this weekend, which just so happens to be the district Wind band concert and rehearsal.
I know what you're thinking- why on earth would someone put the rehearsal on the SAME DAY as the concert?
I have no idea. Take it up with Santa Clause or the tooth fairy or something, because I haven't a clue.
Well, whatever. Anyhoo.
I started playing Euphonium in, like, fifth grade. Back then I was young and naive and thought that it was called the Baritone. Little did I know that the Baritone has three sections of tubing, each with a consistent width to the bell. The Euphonium, on the other hand, starts at one width near the mouthpiece, and throughout the entire length of tubing, continues to widen to the bell.
Slight differences, but no biggie.
It's just way more fun to impress people with my band instrument know-how.
And even more fun to make them try to pronounce "Euphonium".
Tee hee hee...

Don't talk during service!!

Okay boys and girls. Now that you've seen my outer shell of pippy happy fun fun, now it's time for me to get serious.
Pleeeaasee- DON'T TALK DURING CHURCH SERVICE!!
This is serious business people. NO joke.
So I was sitting in my youth group service at my church, and the pastor is giving this awesome message. It was about how Jesus intended his deciples to go out into the far corners of the world and bring people to God, and to baptize people, and how we as students of the church are able by the power of the Holy Spirit to do this by bringing people to church.
At least, I thought that's what he was saying. To tell you the truth, I couldn't really get the whole just of the service. Why?
... because the people behind me were talking.
Through the worship music-
talktalktalktalktalk...
Through the message-
talktalktalktalktalk...
Even through the video clips-
talktalktalktalktalk...
Personally, I was steamed. I was 'this close' to running up to the stage, grabbing the microphone and shouting,
"LOOK PEOPLE! This man here is trying to teach you a lesson that will change your life forever into eternity, and perhaps even change the lives of other people around you! Don't you think maybe you should listen to him??? They don't teach this in school, boys and girls. You don't text this sort of stuff to your friends, either. This is real. This is life, this is death, this is Heaven, and this is Earth. I know you can all handle it, so if you would kindly be quiet, let's get this show on the road!!!"
So when your pastor is preaching, or when your teacher is teaching, please please please, do not talk. I can't speak for the other people in the audience, but for me, the service would have been a lot more meaningful and touching if I hadn't been distracted by the endless whispers.
This goes for everyone- boys, girls, adults, and kids alike. When you talk, it not only takes away from your experience with God, but it takes away from other's, too.
Thank you, and God bless.

Tomato- fruit or veggie??

It's a very complicated subject.
Is the tomato a fruit or a vegetable?
At first, I did adamantly believe that the tomato was, in fact, a vegetable. After all, you do grow them in vegetable gardens! You even cut them up and put them in your salad, which is entirely vegetables! So I thought that there was no way the tomato could even be considered a fruit.
Until now.
Times are changing, and so are my views on tomatoes. I know am certain that the tomato is most deffinately a fruit, and not only because the 'experts say so'.
But why, you may ask, is the tomato a vegetable?
Why ideed!
First of all, Tomatos are fruits because they grow above the ground, unlike carrots and potatoes.
But Becksta, corn grows above the ground, and corn is a vegetable!
True that, true that. But not only does the tomato grow above the ground, it also grows on vines, like grapes.
That means nothing, Becksta! Pumpkins also grow above ground and on vines, and they are deffinately vegetables!
You are very observant. But to prove my point once and for all, the real reason that a tomato is not a vegetable, but a fruit, is because IT IS NOT HOLLOW.
Huh?
That's right! When, say, you bite into an apple, is it hollow? NO! How about a banana? NO! But what happens when you open up a peapod, or a pumpkin, or a green pepper?
HOLLOW!!!
And are tomatoes hollow when you bite into them?
NO!
Therefore, tomatoes are not vegetables because they grow above the ground, they grow on vines, and they are not hollow.
And because the experts say so.

Secrets and the elections

So I was thinking today, how very difficult it is to keep a secret. Especially when you are a girl. And ESPECIALLY if it portrays to boys...
"secrets, secrets, are no fun..."
How do people do it? And why do people trust me with their secrets? I'm bound to tell someone sooner or later.
And why the heck do I trust other people with my secrets???

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Elections are a pain in the you-know-what.
But do you-know-why?
Because that's all that everyone ever talks about! "Obama, McCain, Obama, McCain," that's all that ever comes out of their mouths! It's on TV, it's on the radio, it's on the internet, it's in the newspapers, it's on the streets; it's closing in on me!
NO! I will not give in! I must sustain a reasonable level of innocence!
There is no way that I'm going to let this election get to me.
Oh, gosh, I wish it'd just END already!

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

On the note of elections, I had the most perplexing thought today.
You see, the election process works like this: We the People vote. The Electoral College, all 538 of them (435 Representatives, 100 senators, and 3 District of Collumbia votes...) vote "based on the votes of the people represented". Whatever the Electoral College votes is PERIOD. THE END. Hoo-rah, new President. Sometimes, the Electoral College OVERRIDES the Popular vote.
So why DO we vote?
Well, it's because we Can.
It sounds like a stupid answer, but it's the truth. Most countries in the world don't even give their citizens the opportunity to VOTE, much less to SPEAK about the current ruler of the country.
So gosh-darn it, I'm gonna utilize my rights and vote! Huzzah!

Jazz out the wazzooo

(What the heck is a wazzooo?)
Playing jazz was always a very interesting topic for me. Whenever I thought of jazz music, or whenever I heard it, I always wanted to jump out of my normal comfort zone and dance around like a maniac. Sometimes I did dance like a maniac.
In any case, the instrument that I had chosen for my band class at the time was the Euphonium. (Say that five times fast...) Let me tell you- Euphoniums deffinately DO NOT BELONG in a jazz ensemble. So what is a music freak to do? Play piano!!
I've been playing classical piano for waaay to long, so I then decided that wouldn't it be a swell idea to try and play jazz piano for the jazz ensemble at my school?
Well, that gets old after a couple of years.
Now what?
I know! Trombone!!
So over the summer, I picked up and learned how to play the trombone. After a collective total of 4 months of Trombone playing, I audition for my jazz ensemble at my school and, viola! I make it!
But being the nutcase that I am, that wasn't going to cut it. Oh no, I needed more music. How about, say, auditioning for the District jazz ensemble?
Yeah, that would do just fine.
So I audition, I make the band, I rehearse and play until my lips can't take it anymore...
And here I am. Begging for more.
I am INSANE. I need a hobby... other than music.

A blog is a wish your heart makes...

I've always wanted to blog- to share, to express, to bore other unsuspecting souls with my endless ranting- but I've never known where to begin. I always have had this impression that blogs had to be specifically about SOMETHING, and not just about ANYTHING.
The sad part is, that that's usually the case with all of the successful blogs that I've taken a gander at. They're all about knitting or reading or restaurant reviews or donkeys or something that you can write a whole blog about, yet still stay on topic.
Recently, however, I've begun to realize that although this is true, I don't care anymore.
"Why, " I ask myself, "must I follow the preset template of normal blogging? Why can't I just make up my own rules and write about whatever the heck I want?"
Well, why not?
So that's what I will do. I have decided that blogging should be, and will be, the most random of all free form writing that has ever hit the World Wide Web.
Enjoy...