Kisses.

July 3, 2007:
Well... It happened.  The one thing I've wanted to happen all my life -- but the one thing I'm almost regretting now.  It was pleasant, yet painful.  Shaking, yet serine.  Wonderful, yet weird.
We kissed.  Full-out on the lips.  We kissed.
I imagine it as if it were happening now... we were on the couch in the living room...

I let his lips touch mine.  Softly at first, but then he took over.  I hardly did anything, I just sat there and let his lips cover mine.  He'd suck in and let go, suck in and let go.  Almost six times, before I whispered,
"Is this okay?"
"Only if we don't use tongues," he whispered back before covering my lips in his agan...


June 9, 2009:
My lips found his.
Only briefly.  I still can't believe it happened.  It was so soft -- so warm -- almost as if I were just kissing air.
I think I was the one who kissed him.  I think.  You can never tell.  All I know is that I absolutely loved it...


November 9, 2009:
...A moment's pause.  I said, "You look cuter without your glasses."
"I know."
Hahahah... He knows...
"Oh well,"

Then his lips hit mine.  His arm immediately went around my ow and his tongue immediately started exploring the edges of my mouth.  It happened so fast, so intense.  That was the part I remember the most.  The beginning.
His lips were soft, and the skin around them prickled gently against my own.  Suddenly I felt relaxed... So relaxed...


September 4, 2010:
I could feel his face... just a hair away from my lips.  His big nose was touchng mine.  I was afraid to open my eyes.  I knew I wouldn't like what I saw.
But our lips met anyway.
And I thought of nothing.


January 18, 2011:
He kissed me!  Last night!...
I gave him a close embrace and as we separated, he said "I want to kiss you."
He sounded like you when he said it.  Suddenly all the doubt I had about kissing him went out the door.  "You can if you want," I said.
And he did.  It was a very odd kiss.  I don't think he's kissed a girl before.  His lips stayed shut against mine, while mine had to open up around them.  We held that kiss for five seconds.  Then, our lips separated for a second and then back.  It was so sweet.  So clean and platonic and peaceful.


October 29, 2011:
"Are we really gonna do this?" I whined, but I didn't move away (Mistake #4).
"Yes," he said.  And that was when my willpower completely snapped and I was rubbing my lips against his.  Letting my tongue slip out against his teeth.
BIG MISTAKE #5.


May 4, 2012:
Yeah, I want him to kiss me.  So I let my face get really close to his and I let my arms rest on his shoulders.  He kissed me.  I hardly had to do anything.  His lips are perfect.  His kiss is divine.  He had never really kissed a girl before, but oh man, he's good at it.  Maybe it's all the movies... Or maybe he's just right for me...
We don't kiss for very long... I think he felt a little self-conscious.  Only after about ten seconds from when our lips first touched, he turned away with a sigh and said,  "Gaaa, I have no idea what I'm doing."
I smiled at his insecurity.  So cute.  I turned his head with my hand back toward my lips and this time I kissed him.  So satisfying...


28 October, 2012:
...At the time, all I was really thinking was this:  I want to kiss that man.  Bad.
So I pushed, and in a short while, he surrendered.  His lips reached for mine, and that's when the best car make-out of my life started.

June 16, 2013:
"Thank you.  Now I want to kiss you goodnight.  To show my gratitude."
He had kissed my cheek so many times, I thought nothing of leaning in for him to kiss my cheek... But I was surprised to find his lips touch mine.  Quite on purpose.  He was kissing me.  For real.


June 28, 2013:
"I'll make sure to speak more candidly next time..."
And that's when I did it.
It came out of nowhere.  I hardly even thought.  I just reached out, grabbed his shoulder, pulled him towards me, and our lips met.
It really was a perfect kiss...

I remember not being able to look at him at all, even as he spoke.  I looked past him at the blade-changing equipment shelf just beyond him.  And when I suddenly reached my arms out to his neck, I closed my eyes and they remained shut until it was all over.
It really was the best kiss ever.  It could not have gone more right.
Which, I think, means something.  It means things sometimes go a lot better if you don't overthink them.  I think this moment here was one of the few moments in my life when I totally acted impulsively.  I let my desires take charge and I hardly thought -- just enjoyed.
And, I can't emphasize this enough, the kiss was perfect.  It was a long, full kiss.  It felt RIGHT, from the first impact to the moment I randomly decided to stop.
I remember movement at the beginning.  From both of us.
He kissed me back...
It felt as natural as breathing..
I remember the movement subsided.  I let my lips just rest there on his.  Just sit and wait and enjoy.  And then suddenly it was over.

7 October, 2013:
"Would a kiss help?" he asked.
Holy frack.
My mind raced.  Yes?  No?
"Maybe?" I said.
And then he kissed me.  It was a very simple kiss.  I instinctively got more into it.  Most of my kissing has involved a bit more than just a simple peck.  I think it took him by surprise.  But honestly, I had hardly any time to THINK about this!  I just DID something.

Music history unimportant to the modern college music student? Dead wrong.

This essay wasn't supposed to be an essay.  It was supposed to be a facebook comment.  But I just could not stop writing about this topic because it is very very relevant to my life and I am a very passionate person.  So I decided to post my feelings here on a blog rather than bog down a feed with all of this nerdy jibber-jabber that I'm prone to writing.

I probably should state the following preamble before jumping in:  I am a musicologist.  I have applied to the music history master's program at BYU, and I intend on getting a PhD and someday teaching music history courses at a collegiate level.  I have already taken part in several research projects about bluegrass music, and I am currently assisting a professor at BYU in writing a book about Miles Davis.  I consider myself to be an extremely well-rounded musician.  I am a pop singer, a junior high school music teacher, and a traditional choral artist.  I've performed in operas, rock shows, and avant-garde performance art pieces.  I love Lady Gaga, George Crumb, Beethoven, and the White Stripes.  I pass my time reading the American Musicological Society Journals and books by Joseph Kerman and Deems Taylor.  I know I'm a nerd, and I'm very proud of it.  I am also very passionate, as you will soon see by this super long rant that I'm about to go on regarding a very nerdy subject.  But I am also a human being with human desires, one of my strongest being to make the world a better place.  With all this in mind, please read on:

A friend of mine linked me to the following facebook status from someone who is a fellow music major at BYU:

"Dear music history teacher. Please stop assuming we all love your class and want to devote every waking moment contemplating how cultured we are for taking this class. Reality check: We all hope you will realize that your subject contributes nothing to society. Stop being a required class."

Here was one of the comments:

"I think you're 100% right. Music history doesn't affect my playing at all. And it doesnt make money outside the university system. Really, what do music historians do? They teach music history, and do research to fill their need for a hobby. It has no direct effect on society or I would even wager the bulk of music today. It doesn't change what people like, it doesn't change their desires. Exposure to music and studying the history are two very different things... University music programs need to climb out of their bubble and face reality, the world doesn't value the bulk of what they do... I would wager that if the class wasn't required they wouldn't have enough student participation and the class dropped and the teacher let go. Which would make university costs cheaper by at least 40000 a year."

Oh, how these comments make me weep with disgust, terror, and sorrow!  Yes, weep.  I cried when I read this.  I cried because it makes me very sad to think that there are people in this world who believe that music history is a useless and irrelevant field.  People who think this way could not be more wrong.

In the following paragraphs, I will consciously choose to ignore the not-so-subtle insult to music history teachers -- and perhaps teachers in general -- that are contained within these comments.  I will try very hard not to feel personally attacked by the underlying FALSE notion that music history teachers are bigots who don't know anything about their students' needs or values.  I will overlook the fact that these comments are devaluing classical music -- the music that has fueled composition and musical inquiry for centuries -- in favor of other musical genres (which is ironic, since the first quote was coming from someone majoring in classical music...). I will also overlook the notion that the world of academic music is obsolete and irrelevant to society.  I will set aside the scathing implication that if the world were supposedly perfect, I would be out of a job that I have become highly trained to perform through years and years of collegiate study and work.  I will ignore all of the complete rubbish and stupidity that I read in these two comments and instead specifically focus on that penultimate line from the first quote, that music history "contributes nothing to society."

If you, as a musician, believe that it is not important to understand the heritage of your craft, you are very much mistaken.

I will repeat that.  In bolds and italics:  If you, as a musician, believe that it is not important to understand the heritage of your craft, you are very much mistaken.  

First of all, in reference to the claim that music history is just a high-falutin hobby... To be frank, we could say the exact same thing about professional musicians.  There are indeed people out there who believe that while performing music is fun and fulfilling, it shouldn't be taken seriously as a career. This kind of attitude not only hurts performing musicians, but also public music education programs, composers, and music appreciators.

If we want to discuss USE VALUE in any art, we could realistically rationalize it out of use in our society completely.  All we really NEED is food, shelter, expulsion of waste, sex, etc... All this "art" is just fluff. A waste of precious resources we could be using to feed dying children in foreign countries and shelter the homeless in our own.  I'm sure people searching for their next meal aren't worried about music, classical or otherwise. Sure, it can be fun, but why pay anyone to make music?  In the grand scheme of things, it's useless enough to be a hobby.  Why, then, in heaven's name, do we as a society pay millions -- yes, MILLIONS -- of dollars to music as a high art form.  Why do people still voluntarily invest in public classical radio, to choir and band programs in public schools, to orchestra halls and opera companies and record labels and finely-crafted instruments and collegiate music schools and score libraries and private teachers... Oh, I could go on and on! As a college musician, you are paying a great deal of money to simply have the CHANCE of getting paid to make music. Why?  (And this isn't Katy Perry or Maroon 5, either.  This is Wagner, this is Scarlatti, this is Debussy... This is CLASSICAL MUSIC that we are paying for.  I haven't yet mentioned the millions and millions of dollars being made by popular musicians through record sales and concert tickets, or the huge affairs that we make out of things like the Grammy Awards to celebrate those ridiculous money-wasters we call popular musicians and composers.)

And, in conjunction with all the money that we spend, let's consider the TIME we choose to spend on classical music.  What about the thousands of hours we spend in practice rooms or rehearsals?  Couldn't we be spending that time doing something USEFUL?  Like building habitats for humanity or finding the cure for cancer?  And if we want to put a gospel spin on this... Why do we do all of this stuff when we could be raising families, fulfilling callings, doing service and missionary work.  Why are we investing ALL THIS TIME and ALL THIS MONEY to something as trivial and overall useless to our basic survival as MUSIC?

WHY? Because we recognize that there is much more to life than simply survival.  As Gordon B. Hinckley said, "Life is to be enjoyed, not just endured."  Not only does music bring meaning, enrichment, and happiness to our lives, but we also get the chance to use music to provide these same blessings to others.  Suddenly music becomes an act that helps make the whole world -- not just our own individual selfish lives -- a better place.  And that is AWESOME.  That is GOOD.  The fact that society loves music legitimizes the careers of professional musicians!  They deserve to be paid for what they do because what they do makes our lives awesome.  It's this spirit of legitimization that causes memes like this to appear all over Facebook:

We understand the value of good art.  We acknowledge that learning an instrument or how to sing takes skill and practice.  We see advocates for "supporting the arts" all over the place because deep down we know that music is important to us.  Those who don't understand how important it is that we have skilled musicians, composers, and music teachers in society are living with spiritual blindfolds over their perspectives.

Now I'm not here to make a huge argument about supporting the arts in schools or paying musicians more money.  I'm here to argue that the same line of logic can be stated in rebuttal for those who choose to belittle and understate the value of music history.

History and the arts have something very important in common: Both are recognized as valuable ways in which we not only endure life, but enjoy it.   If you believe music history is merely a tool for colleges to make money and has no use in our society's education, would you say the same for all historians?  I hope not.  I hope that by now, after years of having US history and world history and church history etc. shoved down your throat that society values and respects history's importance.  And history could not be accurate or accessible to us if it weren't for the thousands of men and women who dedicate their lives to extract truths about times we no longer have direct access to.  Ever wonder what the world would be like today if we didn't have Egyptian mummies (imagine the toll on the film industry!), ancient Japanese costume and architecture, photographs from the first World War, journals and letters from our Founding Fathers, the Bible???  And it's not just simply possessing these artifacts; it's UNDERSTANDING them that makes them valuable!

History inspires us. Practically every creative act has been inspired by something that has happened in the past.  Whether it be a recent, trivial event like a high school break-up or a distant, catastrophic event like Hiroshima, it is often history that motivates the artist to create. It's this same inspiration that leads us to contemplating the meaning behind Stonehenge, referencing the tragedy of the Titanic, and cancelling school to celebrate Martin Luther King.  In order for history to inspire us in this way, we of course need to know what happened!  Isn't it important, then, that we have people out there who take time out of their lives to collect artifacts, gather data, and publish findings in ways that we can understand so that we can appreciate and gain this creative and enriching inspiration?

Example: The Constitution was written over two hundred years ago, and here we are today still abiding by its precepts.  How important is it, then, that we have trained professionals who have taken the time to understand the language, cultural context, and physical nature of such a document? Answer: VERY IMPORTANT.

Looking at music specifically, how do we find our treasured musical works so that we can learn to play them in the first place?  People who know where to find it.  And if we are curious to know when it was written or why?  Who does the grunt work for us?   Researchers.  Scientists.  Philosophers.  Sociologists.  Anthropologists... in sum, MUSIC HISTORIANS.  If we feel comfortable paying someone to analyze and assess the Constitution of the United States, why do we not feel comfortable paying someone to spend years of schooling, countless hours of research, and hundreds of dollars (Yes, it DOES cost money to do research!) to discover, analyze, and assess the works of Mozart, Bach, Stravinsky, etc?  Perhaps there are other composers of equal caliber that we have not yet discovered?  Perhaps we have not yet unlocked the full potential of composers that we often overlook?  Perhaps there are connections that have not yet been made between one artist and another?  If we value music the way we claim to value it, we should be willing to invest in it this way.  Those professors who spend four hours a week teaching you about Wagner and Mahler are spending the rest of their day exploring these very questions (and let me add that these aren't the kinds of questions that a computer can answer!).

If you, as a paid musician, deserve to do something YOU love that makes the world a better place, then we musicologists and theorists deserve the same privilege.  It's not just a hobby.  It's a lifestyle, a commitment, and a legitimate career.  How dare you say otherwise!!

Now let's talk about music history's place in our system of music education.  The above quotes claim that making music history a required class at a collegiate level is detrimental to students, irrelevant to their chosen major, and a waste of money.

Music history is a branch of art history, which basically covers the lives and works of individuals who have taken the time out of their lives to create something beautiful.  A music history class is indeed a MUSIC EXPOSURE class, where we get the chance to hear music we otherwise would not have heard and learn about composers we might not otherwise have discovered.  And while it has been argued that music history and exposure are not the same thing, I argue that a music history class is TARGETED EXPOSURE.  It introduces works and composers that have stood the test of time and earned worthiness in our modern-day discussion about music as a tradition and an art form.  Rather than spending time studying every symphony by Haydn, we only look at one primary example that may represent many of the others.  As students, we trust that the writers of the textbooks and the class instructors have the wisdom and resources to know what would be the most beneficial for us to know and understand about such a broad and varied topic.

And if you have trouble believing that highly-trained and highly-experienced scholars and writers have anything worthwhile and trustworthy to say on a given subject like music history, then I would suggest that your issue lies not with music history but with authority.  Authoritarianism and elitism are present in any field that contains even a hint of subjectivity.  This includes other arts, education, technical trades, and even STEM fields! Musicologists are aware of the authoritarian, hierarchical social structures that can be present in their community.  The issue we have today regarding what should and should not be contained in a textbook is one that music historians take very seriously, and the climate is rapidly changing to be more inclusive and relevant to today's age.  I can tell you more about these changes later. But in the meantime, perhaps you could remember for a second that there are people out there who might have some insights that you do not?  I'm not saying it's bad to question a textbook, and you don't have to like every single piece that's in there.  But at least you got the chance to form an opinion about it, and perhaps you learn about yourself in the process.  I'd suggest actually READING the book first and LISTENING to the pieces first, before you deem them unworthy of everyone's time.  Break the normal "college-student" stereotype and exercise some humility.  

As a choral singer who dabbles very little in the instrumental world, I knew nothing of Scriabin, Vivaldi, Ives, Berlioz, or Strauss until I took music history.  I'm sure many instrumentalists didn't know much about Schubert, Berio's 'Sequenza III' or romantic opera until they took music history.  And if all you know is classical music, college classes taught by these "out-of-touch" professors also teach classes about jazz, rock and roll, world music, music technology, music psychology, the list goes on.

All Musicians Use Music History
It's true.  No matter what sub-field of music you are in, you use music history.  It applies to you.  It matters to you.  You are indebted to it.  Don't believe me?  Read on.

An Original Beethoven Manuscript

Music History Inspires Further Creation

Music history is often taught in conjunction with music composition.  To be frank, I don't think you can be a good composer without knowing a little bit about music history, and therefore music history classes should be especially emphasized in composition programs.  So much of what composers do is steal from other composers.  Music history and theory become their tools.  The more they know about music history and theory, the more complete their toolbox becomes.
For example:

We know that Mozart was deeply inspired after looking at the manuscripts of Bach.

We know Stravinsky was inspired by Russian folk tunes, resulting in the creation of his explosive ballet, "The Rite of Spring."

We know that John Cage knew enough about music philosophy and history to completely reject previous notions about music and start using pure chance to compose.

And it even happens among popular musicians...

Lady Gaga, who once drew on classic rock musicians like Bruce Springsteen to create her album Born This Way, has just completed a tour of performing jazz standards with Tony Bennett.  They also did a record compilation, which won a Grammy.  This girl obviously values history.

Artists like the Talking Heads, Peter Gabriel, and the Beatles were drawing on inspirations from non-Western cultures to inform their music.  These same cultures are being discussed in classrooms in Universities around the world -- classes taught by none other than MUSICOLOGISTS.

The song "All By Myself," originally by Eric Carmen and made famous by the likes of Celine Dion, was completely ripped from a piece Mendelssohn's Second Symphony.

 Weezer quoted the Shaker tune "Simple Gifts" in their song "The Greatest Man That Ever Lived."  This same Shaker hymn was quoted by Aaron Copland in his ballet "Appalacian Spring."  

Stanley Kubrick (who, admittedly, is not a composer, but a filmmaker) makes use of classical music in films like 2001: A Space Odyssey and A Clockwork Orange.  These quotations are not only memorable, but moving and iconic.  Some of these pieces were written as far back as two hundred years ago.

It is obvious that human beings are inspired by other human beings.  Good artists expose themselves to other artists within their field and craft, learned from them, and create new, interesting, and relevant things based on what they learned.  I guarantee that there is no exception to this rule.  No one creates in a vacuum.

Part of the reason why we have music history classes is to simply introduce young composers (and potential composers?) to some of these tools.  Counterpoint.  Instrumentation.  Style. Text painting. Subject matter.  This stuff may very well inspire you to write a piece of your own!  You never know what kind of trajectory your musical life will take... I'll get to that more later.

Music History as an Educator's Tool
 How does music history help those who do not chose to compose -- for example, music educators in public schools?  Speaking as more of an educator than a performer or a composer, I argue that the exposure from Music History classes has helped me make better repertoire choices for those I teach.  I know of a lot more high-quality choral music now than I did before, so instead of only choosing Whitacre and Handel's Messiah and other overdone pieces, I can choose from Palestrina, Schütz, Rachmaninoff, Arvo Pärt, and a host of others.  Students are curious.  They often ask why songs are important or why it sounds the way it does.  Having on-hand information about the context of the piece can be a useful teaching tool.  Through that empowering thing called knowledge, my students will get to enjoy this music as much as I do.  All of us can be inspired by history, and teachers have the special opportunity to act as agents of exposure.  
Music History Makes for Interesting Concerts and Performances
Performers have audiences.  Audiences are usually hungry for inspiration and for enrichment when they come to concerts.  How many times have we walked out of a concert wanting to know more about a piece that we heard?   How nice is it to hear something that is not only beautifully written and performed, but also something that they may not have heard before?

Exposure begets exposure.  It's simple logic.  The audience cannot be exposed to Bach without the performers first being exposed to it.  Thus the need for targeted exposure through music history class. We get the chance, as performers, to also act as agents of exposure and inspiration for our audience.  The music we hear and enjoy in a music history class becomes the music we share so that others can also enjoy it.  Do not think that your music history education is irrelevant!  It's an opportunity to gain inspiration for your own life and to inspire others at a future date!!  Don't take it for granted.

A personal story, now, to give you a hint at where I come from as a musician, educator, and academic.  I didn't know I wanted to be a musicologist until I took Music 201 for a simple civilization credit.  I was not yet a music major, but after that class, I could not see myself as anything but one.  I became hooked.  I explored Gregorian Chant, studied scores, looked up other music.  I also explored other branches of art history (namely modern visual and performance art) with the same fervor.  Music history became my passion.

College is an interesting thing.  You could argue that we should never have to take any GE courses because they don't apply to what we want to do with our lives... but who's to say that they couldn't become an important part of our lives?  There's a phrase, "You never know until you try."  I think it applies here.  I would never have explored music history as a career unless I was put in a position where I had to try it out. You could call colleges manipulative and money-hungry, or you could acknowledge the fact that our society appreciates well-rounded individuals and the promise of success through opportunity and through learning and growth.  By making Music History a required class, the school of music is hoping that every student will have an opportunity to feel the same high that I did.  The only thing that prevents this is the students' attitudes, which are overall very negative.

(Of course, I had a very inspiring and enthusiastic teacher for 201, and this definitely helped.  I agree, it can be hard to understand the value of a certain subject if the person teaching is not giving you the impression that it is valuable to you.  Perhaps the first quote we saw was a response to a very bad teacher...   But that doesn't excuse the fact that you should be able to look past the dry professor shouting out names and dates from a podium and recognize the value of the actual subject.  You are in college now, after all.  You're not expected to take everything at face value.  If you put in the effort, you will find the juicy inspiration that can be found within the music that you are being exposed to, and I wager that you will feel a similar thirst for knowledge that I have felt, and you will come to appreciate the music that you play even more than before.)

I think our young people have a problem with negative attitudes toward learning in general.  People complain about how calculus shouldn't be taught in schools because it's all theoretical and inapplicable in real life and therefore useless.  I think these people miss the point.  Sometimes we need to not just learn, but learn how to learn.  As much as I value personal application, I feel like we're beginning to head in a direction that's not so much asking "How does this apply to me?" but rather asking "What's in it for me?"  We seek immediate validation for what we learn.  We seek direct and easily measured applications, rather than take the time to delve into other potential uses that may not be so obvious.  It's this selfish attitude towards learning that causes arts programs to shut down in public schools.  If the students aren't gonna make any money off of it like they do with math and science, why teach it?  If music is such an abstract concept that can't be measured with standardized tests and immediate results, why teach it?  What the materialistic twenty-first-century America fails to see is that there are many more treasures that we can gain in life besides money and praise.  Advocates for music education in schools understand that students learn great life lessons and valuable skills through music.  I argue that we also learn a great deal of these same things through music history.

What do we learn from Music History? 

We learn how to verbally discuss the musician's craft.  One of the important components of musicology is learning how to talk about music.  Music has its own particular language and terminology, and musicians need to learn how to speak it.  We, as musicians, need to be able to discuss a particular passage or set of measures in a way that other musicians would be able to understand what we are saying.  Rather than fishing for words, hoping one will catch, we will have a bank of terms that we can pull out to describe what we hear and what we play.  Terms like "counterpoint," "block construction," "Baroque," "sonata," and "polychord" can be very useful, but we need to take the time to learn what these words mean.

And on a more general level, I think it's important that every college student knows how to effectively communicate in spoken and written language.  Something that I actually find very remiss about the entire BYU music education system is the fact that we are given very few opportunities to WRITE about music.  There is no real research paper required in any music-specific class.  In 305 and 306 we are asked to write short essays, but never are we required to write a legitimate, full-length paper about music. We aren't asked to write written analyses, reviews, or even simply personal essays about musical works.  I know of several college students who would crucify me for saying this, but I envy the students who are required to write at least one major written work, complete with proper citation, correct grammar, and an enforced deadline.

Yes, we play music.  We write music.  We teach music.  But how well do we COMMUNICATE about music?   What common communication skills are other college students learning that music students don't get the chance to learn?  Music students may not fully know how to perform research, read a textbook, define a term, present an argument, give an oral presentation, or work in discussion groups.  When our compositions are solely musical, the non-musical then suffer in the dark. We may be able to play a sonata, but are we, as musicians, learning how to communicate to the entire world about what we love? How do we advocate?  How do we educate?   How can we really contribute?  How can we call ourselves college-educated if we go through our entire music education without touching these important social and academic communication skills?

Music History creates cultural capital.  This goes back to my claim that our society has conferred significant meaning and value to music.  Whether or not you directly use your music history skills in performance, conductors often want well-rounded musicians who understand the music that they are playing from a contextual standpoint.  And who's to say that you DON'T use things you learn in music history classes in performance?  Conductors want musicians who know how important the third scale degree is in Stravinsky's "Symphony of Psalms."  They want musicians who will at least appreciate the importance of a 12-tone work, and take it seriously.  They want musicians who can feel the transcendence of Mozart's Requiem because they understand the circumstances in which it was written.  If you can't find any other good reason to take music history, at least take it so that you can look good on your resume.

Musicology also provides another opportunity for musical analysis, which involves problem-solving and critical-thinking skills.  These skills are VITAL for finding and keeping a job!  Knowing how to diagnose problems, synthesize information, and find solutions are important in any career. Conductors and producers want proactive musicians who USE THEIR BRAINS.  College has a myriad of purposes, but one one the biggest ones is for students to practice USING THEIR BRAINS.  Sometimes the practice lies in playing the same two measures over and over again in a practice room, but other times it involves figuring out why the Neapolitan plays such an important part in Beethoven's "Eroica" symphony.  We practice these skills by drawing parallels between the classical period of the 18th century with the neoclassical period from the 20th.  We make great strides in logical reasoning and problem solving when we figure out the historical implications of Wagnerian opera, or the motivations behind works like Penderecki's "Threnody for the Victims of Hiroshima."

Music history = a workout for your brain.  And while we may feel the burn, we know that the outcome will be beneficial to us.  We may not like our vegetables, but we know they're good for us.  We can either choose to endure in discomfort, or embrace the experience with hope and enthusiasm for the future.

Music history has taught me how to listen.  Playing music is great, but LISTENING to music is also an artistic act.  I have been extensively taught that ACTIVE LISTENING is something that we should teach our children in music classes.  Back to my exposure argument, music history is not only a place that simply exposes you to well-written music, it also exposes you to well-PERFORMED music.  It gives you a chance to hear highly-trained groups play great music.  Of course you can go hunting for your favorite recordings on your own, but a class provides a great starting point for those who have not yet been exposed to great performances.  And as we listen to these performances, we need to be aware of the nuance, the dynamic change, the instrumentation, the style, the story... the ART that we are hearing!  Music history teaches musicians how to listen.  

And not just how to listen, but how to connect what they hear to what they see.  Honestly, if you come to a music history class without your score, you are doing yourself a disservice.  Aural and literacy skills are improved as you listen to music while watching it unfold on a score.  As you practice "watching" the music, you'll discover more and more things that you may not have seen before.  You may not initially HEAR the patterns of developing variations in the works of Brahms, but you might be able to SEE them on the orchestra's score, and your listening experience could change completely from that point forward!  Try doing THAT during rehearsal, when all you have is your own part!  Not so easy, huh?  And isn't it nice having a trained professional in the room, guiding you toward things you might not see on your own?

(Quick side note:  I've also found that I am much faster at transposing instruments from different keys by analyzing and discussing musical scores.  I'm not even an instrumentalist, but I feel pretty good at it now!)

Another benefit that comes from music history:  You understand people better.  I loved learning about the Schumann family in 306.  Robert Schumann was a fascinating individual that I relate to quite a bit.  He writes about love, just like I do.  And he was misunderstood and he had mental problems and he felt alone sometimes, just like I do sometimes. I find myself connecting deeply to particular artists and composers who seem to share my passion for music, life, and other people.

One valuable piece of truth I have discovered in researching bluegrass musicians for my honor's thesis is that some things don't change.  People have been singing about sex, drugs, God, war, and grief for hundreds of years.  While the way the emotions are presented may be a little different, we still carry these same basic human emotions within us today.  By discrediting the importance of learning about the works of talented people who came before us, we are very much discrediting those people themselves.  After all, don't you agree that the art that you create is part of who you are? Wouldn't YOU like to be remembered and discussed after YOU died if YOU wrote something that was amazing?? I know I would.  Music history leads to music appreciation.  It is our chance to pay homage to those awesome folks who have given us such inspiring works to enjoy.

My final thought would be this:  I care about music history, and I am a human being.  Out of respect to me, as a human being, I would hope that you, too, would appreciate what I have chosen to do as a career.  It is in no way immoral to be a musicologist. And hopefully I have proven to you that it is also not a waste of time.  I would also hope you look upon your music history professors with a little more respect.  They are not simply pawns in the greedy collegiate clockwork.  They are doing something they love and they are making a contribution to society.  We can question whether or not we should make 305 and 306 a requirement for all music majors all we want, but the bottom line for me is this:  305 and 306 changed my life for the better, and I would love to see other lives get changed the same way mine did.  Hopefully such a desire is both righteous and relevant to today's musical market.

I will end with yet another comment that I read on the same facebook feed.  This one brought me tears of joy:

"My career as a music educator would not be the same without music history courses. It has affected my professional trajectory in remarkably positive ways. What are we without history? How american are you, really, if you don't understand our nations beginnings, if you don't understand the precepts upon which the land you live on was built? Furthermore, how good of a mormon do you think you would be if you didn't understand Latter-day Saint history? What do you think the scriptures are? They are history books. And if you have never read about your sacred history and consider it to be of utmost importance, you need to re-examine your discipleship. Beyond that, where would you be without understanding your history in the pre-mortal realm? Doesn't that bless your spiritual life with insight that helps you deal with and explain the here and now? The same could be said of and applied to music. Knowing musics history is essential to understanding the music, in its various forms, of today. I wager that you CAN NOT be a musician without knowing musics history. I use what I know about music history EVERY SINGLE DAY, whether I am in the practice room, playing with an ensemble, conducting a band, or simply being plugged into my ipod. Knowing music history ENHANCES everything I do with music, because understanding what WAS helps me understand what IS. I see in the music I play now distinct connections to the past, and that helps me delve deeper into the sounds I am making and emotionally bond with it more fully. Forgive me for making assumptions as I read between the lines of your initial post, but it sounds to me like your music history class is simply kicking your butt, so you label it as unnecessary and a nuisance. And that is understandable. I am not faulting you for that. I am doing that same thing right now in biology. My bio 100 class is slapping me around, and so naturally I hate biology. I hate everything to do with it. I can think of nothing on planet earth more useless to me right now than friggin biology. But at the end of the day, I have to admit to myself that I only hate it because I am not good at it. But to pad my ego, I just say it is dumb and useless and I get pissed at the university for requiring it. Ultimately though, the problem here is not biology. It is not music history. And it's not the university. The problem is pride. Unrighteous pride and arrogance in you and in me. And we use our arrogance to make excuses to not try as hard. So, my invitation to you and to me is to sit back and take a deep long look inside ourselves. Look at the situation objectively. Then, upon realizing where the fault truly lies, it's probably time for us to just try harder. Do better. And I am willing to bet that if we open our minds and put forth the appropriate amount of effort, we are going to find a tolerance for and perhaps even an appreciation for those subjects that are currently getting the best of us."

I LOVE MUSICOLOGY.  THE END.  

You are Not My Universe

I am a woman.
I am a capable woman.  A daughter of God.
And I don't need to be told these things.

I don't want to be seen as a fallen angel.
Damaged goods.
Jaded and broken.

As much as you'd like to see me as a project
An opportunity.
I can't stand the thought of you pitying me.

I don't need pity.
I need love.
I don't need sorrow.
I need faith.

I want to be seen as an equal.
Or maybe even above.
I want to be revered.
Respected.

I want to be needed.
I want to be longed for.

I want your love to not be the cause of my happiness,
But the effect.

I want our love to be a product of righteous living.
Not because I need you in order to be righteous.

When you say I'm beautiful,
Gorgeous,
Talented,
Good...
I want you to know that I already know these things.

I want to be deserved.
I want to deserve.

I don't want to need you.
I want to be needed.
Just for once.

I don't want to beg for your attention.
I don't want to waste away without you.
I don't want to depend on you.
I don't want to depend on anyone.

I don't want to be filled with holes so that you can fill them.
I want to be complete on my own.
And I want you to be complete.
So that together we are doubly complete.
Like a cup running o'er.
Not just filling minimum requirement.
But going above and beyond.
Enhancing life.
Not just making life bearable.

I want you to know that I am a champion.
I want you to know that I have faith in myself.
I wish you never had to see my insecurities.
I wish you never had to see my flaws.

Don't be my hero.
I don't need saving.

Don't be my beacon.
I have my own light.

Don't be my Savior.
I already have one.

A Journal Gem: June 25, 2006 -- To wipe away EVERYONE'S tears.

I was 15 years old when I wrote the following entry in Aubrey:

[In choir today,] we sang "I Know that My Redeemer Lives."  That's my new favorite hymn.  There is one verse that hit me so hard it brought me to tears during practice once. 

He lives to grant me rich supply.
He lives to guide me with his eye.
He lives to comfort me when faint.
He lives to hear my soul's complaint.
He lives to silence all my fears.
He lives to wipe away my tears.
He lives to calm my troubled heart.
He lives, all blessings to impart. 

 There are couple of reasons why I love this verse so much.  The first one my mom explained during practice to the choir.  He's there to comfort me. To wipe away my tears, to calm my troubled heart.  Not just as a congregation, but me personally.  He lives for me. It makes me feel like a true daughter of God and that he loves me.
But you can take it another way, too.  You see, I'm not the only one singing the song.  The people in our ward choir sang it this morning, and all over the world, people are probably singing the song.  That means everyone's soul is important to God as well.
Everyone's! Shannon's, Mom's, Mr. Bob's, Ian's, David's... Just the thought of David made me cry.  When I sang that song last week, I imagined Christ looking straight into David's tear-stricken eyes, and he lifted David's head up with his gentle hand.  Then I saw me, sitting with my head in my hands, apparently upset, stressed, and discouraged about something, and then Christ is there, putting his hand on my shoulder, and smiles at me. 
And then -- and this is the part that really to to me -- I saw Brett.  Yep, Brett.  He was crying, but they were happy tears. They were tears of joy.  Christ was there, again, facing Brett and smiling. Then he put both his hands on Brett's shoulders, grasping firmly, but gently.  Then they embrace.  That's when I realized what a fool I've been, holding a grudge over Brett like that.  Sure, he had hurt me, made me feel bad about myself, but he's God's son. Just like I'm his daughter.
He's my brother.
How should I treat my brother?
Not with anger and loathing, like I was.
And that goes for everyone I know.  They are all my siblings, and I should treat them just as kindly and respectfully as I do my blood family.  I've changed my whole outlook on how I should act towards others.  When school starts, there will be no more gossip, backbiting, cruel remarks, or arguing.  Regardless of what they have done to me.  He lives for them. God created them. They are each individual sons and daughters of God. God doesn't make mistakes. Jesus loves them to the end. I want everyone to know that. I want everyone to know that our Redeemer lives to wipe away each and everyone's tears. I don't ant anyone to not know that.  How could I live without knowing that? It makes me really want to spread the gospel.

Listening to: "Sail" by AWOLNATION
Things Going On Today: Happy Fourth of July!  I'm probably going to see little Daniel Hale today.
Blessings: VCRs.
Learned: You can resolve to I from ii! 

How I Found Happiness and began the Best Year of My Life -- My Discovery of Christ's Atonement

I'm so thankful to my freshman Bishop, Bishop Armstrong.  Back in 2009, I had some trouble with the notion of repentance.  In response, he challenged me to read and study out of the book Preach My Gospel.  Well, it has been almost four years, and I still haven't completely read it yet.  But I did make the right choice in following the promptings of the Spirit that invited me to begin reading it again in January.  For several weeks, I got up a little earlier than normal and read the scriptures, using Preach My Gospel as a guide.

The cool thing about Preach My Gospel is that it's designed as a tool to help you teach others about the church.  People who have never heard about Jesus Christ of the notion of pre-existence or the idea of baptism need to be informed about these kinds of things in very simple, basic terms.  They can then build from that solid, straightforward foundation and, line upon line, precept upon precept, they can learn more until they have gained a full-blown testimony of the Gospel of Jesus Christ.

As I was reading about the Atonement in Preach My Gospel, I came to an astounding and somewhat horrifying discovery: I, myself, did not know very much about the Atonement.  Not enough to teach anyone else about it at least, that's for sure. How could I ever teach someone about something I didn't even remotely understand?  It's true, you can't ever completely understand the Atonement, but I didn't even feel like I understood even the most basic parts of it; mainly, how it applied to me, and to people in general. 

Furthermore, how could I much less have a testimony of something like the Atonement while remaining so ignorant about it?

DO I have a testimony of the Atonement? Suddenly my whole spiritual center was called onto the carpet for questioning.  Alma talks about conversion -- a change of heart -- a receiving of Christ's image in our countenance -- a spiritual rebirth.  Have I truly experienced these things?  Am I truly converted? Do I really have a testimony of the Atonement of Jesus Christ?  

I've been a member of the church all my life.  For twenty-two years I have worked under the assumption that I was a child of God and that the Gospel was true... but I don't think I ever TRULY believed it in my heart.

So I started doing some research.  I learned a little bit more about what the Atonement actually entailed.  My memory was refreshed about a couple of things, like how the Atonement overcomes both physical AND spiritual death.  I learned that Christ not only suffered for our sins, but also for every other unfairness, struggle, or pain we've ever suffered or will suffer.  He was able to do this because He, Himself was not only capable of doing it (due to the fact that He is God's Only Begotten and he led a perfectly sinless life) but also because he was willing to do it.  The Atonement was indeed a choice.  It did not HAVE to happen.  Christ could have damned us all by being selfish and not finishing the work he was appointed to do.  But he was willing to suffer all of that sin, heartache, and hurt because he loved us.  And, as hard as it is for us as humans to wrap our brains around that kind of love, it is SO IMPORTANT. 

By the time I had to leave for school the morning after reading all of this stuff and coming to all of these epiphanies, I asked myself the following questions:

So if the Atonement is super important and vital to our salvation (which I assume it is), what can I do to actually get it to work in my life?  What must I PHYSICALLY DO to implement the Atonement? How do I use it? 

 I know obedience is part of it.  I know God wants us to show that we care about what the Savior did for us by following His example and obeying His commandments.  Sure. I get that.  But there are people all over the world who do amazing, good things; people who lose themselves in service to others, who keep themselves clean and chaste.  People who are truly sorry when they make mistakes.  People who love the God that they know, without ever hearing about Christ or the Atonement.  People who are good, yet ignorant.  They exist all over the world.  Some die without ever hearing the good news of the Gospel.  Why is it that we so strongly encourage people to hear about it?  Why is it that we send out thousands upon thousands of missionaries every year so that they can tell these ignorant people all about it?  What important missing piece does the Atonement provide in our lives?

WHAT DOES HAVING AN AWARENESS OF CHRIST'S ATONEMENT DO FOR US?

I guess knowing about the Atonement allows us to use it.  But then there's that question, how is it that a person can USE the Atonement?  It's not like a pill you can take or a hat you can put on.  It's not a physical thing as much as it is an eternal, esoteric and ambiguous idea. And it's hard to wholly implicate an idea into your life in a way that yields any tangible, perceivable results.  It's like faith in the fact that you must trust that the Atonement works without seeing or hearing or touching any physical evidence of its working.

This sort of makes me jealous of the Catholics.  They believe in the idea of TRANSUBSTANTIATION. It's a long word that basically references the idea that the Eucharistic emblems of bread and water literally change into the blood and body of the Savior as they are partaken by worthy members of the church.  It's a false doctrine, I know, but it interests me.  The idea that you are actually eating the blood and body of Christ may be wrong and even a little grotesque, but I can understand why people might like to think that the Sacrament works that way.  This idea of making Christ a PHYSICAL PART of us -- of having him be a part of our own physical bodies -- helps us make him a part of our soul.  It makes coming unto Christ seem just a little more possible.  To change something that cannot be physically perceived or handled is a challenge for us, so we seek some way of making our desire to be like Christ as physical of a thing as possible.  We may believe in a physical change, in hopes that the spiritual change may soon follow.

Now it's never as literal as transubstantiation, but I do believe there is some truth in that notion.  Performing a physical act helps the promises we make and the mindsets we adopt seem more REAL.  That may be a reason why God has us perform ordinances like baptism, confirmation, and rituals done in the temple.  Doing something physical helps us remember the spiritual experience better, but I think it also results in a physical change within us.  Change only happens with action.  Again, inertia. We must fight it with movement. Physical transformation. As I have learned about the Gospel of Jesus Christ, I have concluded that Spirit itself has matter.  They say God is light as well as truth. And while truth may not have any physical properties, light does.  Perhaps God manifests his spirit physically through light... Perhaps our spirits within us -- which, incidentally, are in the possession of the Light of Christ -- have physical properties as well.  Perhaps the neurons, cell structures, and molecular foundations of our physical bodies are fueled by this physical spiritual matter.  Perhaps when we talk about being "quickened by the Spirit," we are referring to the way the spirit physically enlivens a human being.

I guess my point here is this: Maybe spiritual things like the Atonement aren't as esoteric and abstract as I initially believed.  But this really is all beside the point.  That discovery was made after the fact -- after I experienced what I experienced on Wednesday, January 9, 2013.  

Nothing earth-shattering happened.  No large miracle took place.  I saw no angel, witnessed no amazing wonder... heck, I didn't even physically hear that still, small voice that people sometimes hear.

It was like everything was the same, but at the same time, everything was different.

I got up from that period of studying about the Atonement. I got dressed and got in my care and drove to school.  I can't remember what I wore, but I know it was black and white... no, it was gray! I remember! I was wearing my new skinny jeans -- gray ones -- that mom gave me for Christmas, as well as a gray-and-black flannel T-shirt... I felt very comfortable. Beautiful, even.  My new short haircyt actually looked like it belonged to me that day.  I walked into Music 305 (first-semester of Western music history), and I felt like smiling at everyone... I sat and listened to Doctor Howard, and every word that came out of his mouth seemed to fascinate and excite me.

I have this bad habit of attaching meaning to everything. I may talk more about this in another post, but I tend to associate simple objects, places, and events with negative experiences that I've had previously with them.  If I watch a movie with a boyfriend and we end up having a bad break-up, I usually can't watch that movie again without feeling sick inside.  But today, it was like the opposite was happening.  Everything around me seemed to remind me of happy things.

The experience reached its climax directly after class was done.  I was sitting in the foyer of the Madsen Recital Hall, reading about chant.  Back in the medieval period, monks would sing a lot of psalms in a chant.  Oftentimes, they end with something called the Lesser Doxology.  Essentially, it's a little tag that is added at the end of the psalm that praises the Trinity ("Praise Father, Son, and Holy Ghost").  But sometimes the Doxology doesn't quite mesh with a given chant melody; sometimes the modes are different.  So what writers of chant would do is create alternate endings to the doxology so that you could go straight from the Doxology into a new verse of chant.  It all makes lots of sense now, but as I read about it that morning, it didn't make much sense right away. 

But then, after re-reading a few things, thinking about it for a moment, and exerting a little bit of patience, it was suddenly like a lightbulb went off in my head and everything made sense.  There were alternate endings for the doxology to help ease musical motion between chant verses! DUH!

And then, without warning, I found myself crying.  I'm having trouble finding words for what I felt in that moment.  JOY, definitely, but more than just joy.  I remembered, in that moment, where the joy came from.  I found myself saying prayer after thankful prayer to my Heavenly Father. I thanked him for music, for chant, for the class, for the book, for my brain!

And suddenly the world around me changed.


Have you seen these commercials?  There's this allergy medicine called Claritin, and I feel like the commercial for this drug provides a good demonstration for what seemed to happen to me in that moment as I was studying.  Watch and see how the beginning picture is different from the end.  Yes, the invisible strip pulls away and suddenly everything is brighter and more colorful than it was before, but the cool thing is you probably wouldn't have realized that the first part of the commercial really was a little dull and blurry until you saw the drastic difference.  That's kind of how it happened to me.  The world I was looking at before, it was okay.  But when you start seeing things in an eternal perspective, everything GLOWS.  Suddenly everything around me was bearing testimony of Jesus Christ, and I could actually see it.  It's like those little toys you get at McDonalds, where all you see is red dots unless you put it under this screen that makes a picture.  I was finally seeing the picture!  My perspective had changed so that I could get a glimpse of the world the way God sees it. It was like I put on a pair of glasses that makes the entire world clearer and more vibrant.  I didn't even know that the lenses I was using before were that bad!  But now that I had seen this, I could never go back to the old way of looking at things.  Why look through lenses that make things seem dull and unfocused? Lenses of anger, regret, jealousy, or heartbreak -- you'll never see the beauty of things unless we choose to see things in a way that makes them beautiful.


The Atonement makes things Claritin clear. 

I discovered that I had figured out more than simply how to use a lesser doxology. I had figured out how the Atonement can work in my everyday life.  There was the REAL miracle...

Using the atonement involves discovering the deeper meanings behind why we do things.  The deeper meanings behind existence.

Elder Bednar puts it best when he says that the Atonement has enabling power.  Not just healing power.  It doesn't just fix your sins and overcome death.  It makes you capable of DOING THINGS.  I like to think of the Atonement as a TRANSFORMING AGENT that allows those very real, physical transformations to happen.

What can the Atonement transform? Well, it turns something simple like saying you're sorry into something meaningful: Repentance.  And repentance is something that can change the physical nature of your soul.  The Atonement changes something simple like service into something meaningful: Charity. And Charity can change the physical nature of your soul.  It turns marriage into sealing. It turns temporal into eternal. It changes a simple thing like a promise into a covenant.  It turns a seed of faith into a tree of testimony.  It changes belief into perfect knowledge.  It turns trials into blessings. It changes hard hearts into soft ones. It turns happiness into joy. It turns death into life. The Atonement provides reason, meaning, significance, and satisfaction for every experience we have, every thing we learn, and every relationship we develop.

So, with my aptitude for attaching meaning to everything... I, of all people, should be capable of inserting this powerful transforming agent into my everyday life.  All it takes is a little change -- just remembering that amazing Atonement, allowing it to transform that which is ordinary into something EXTRAordinary.

I think that's what conversion is.  Funny. I've been a member of the church all my life and only NOW do I recognize that I have yet to be converted to the Gospel -- to receive this change of heart.

Elder Bednar says something I really like in his talk called "The Atonement and the Journey through Mortality."  He says that Christ has the power to TRANSFORM us (TRANSFORM!) into what we could NEVER have become by ourselves.

I've seen that in my own life! Here I have been working my butt off trying to be happy without involving Christ... I'm working so hard, and all that work will never get me as far as the Atonement will.

But now, here I was, rejoicing in a tiny happy moment while studying. My joy was so full. I never could have imagined being this happy so quickly after such a horrible year of break-ups, abandonment, eating disorder, and depression.  The change was almost immediate.  Just gaining a tiny bit of awareness of what Christ has done for me had immediate, exponential, positive results.  
 
I was happy all day. I was happy all week.  I was happy all month. And I am still happy now, six months later.  I haven't cried, I haven't hurt, I have learned to forgive my enemies, love my neighbor, and rejoice in trials.  And people have noticed.  "You seem to glow, Hannah," a friend of mine told me the other day. "Your sharp edges have softened.  You're not as fearful as I remember you being when I met you."  I have formed closer relationships with people; I don't think I would have made some of the friends I have made if it weren't for this new attitude.   I don't think I would have gotten through some of the new trials I have had to experience this year without this new attitude.  Everything has changed. I am healed, but even more important, I have been enabled by the power of the Atonement.

Now I know why members of the Church are so excited about going on missions. They want other people to feel this same joy that they have felt through gaining an awareness of and using the Atonement.

It is so real.  There is no doubt in my mind that Christ not only loves us, but understands us with complete and perfect empathy.  I testify that God has given us this Gospel to be happy.  It is the Atonement that makes us happy.  We are the ones who choose to use the Atonement, and therefore, we are the ones who in the end determine our own happiness.  I have learned that I can choose to keep this eternal perspective.  It's not about control anymore.  It's not about trying to force the transformation. It's now about trusting. It's about patience. It's about loving what you have.  Feeling peace and joy from the ultimate source, rather than having faith in things that will not make us eternally happy.  I am a new person.  I really am.  I am happy.  I am thankful. I am whole.

It's real. I know it. I love it.

Eleven -- A Poem by Me

Number One was joy.
     Number Two was just a boy.
Both were barely seventeen.
And I was very young then,
So I kept it clean.

Number Three?
     Don't get me started.
Number Four was a one-night stand.
Number Five was smart, but I broke his heart
When I refused his hand.

Number Six should not have happened,
     But happened nonetheless.
Number Seven should have been better
But he was a hot hot mess.

Number Eight came sort of late.
But he was new to the game.
He turned out to be a coward
Who shrank at the sight of my shame.

Number Nine,
     He was mighty fine.
And I thought he loved me then.
But his web of lies left me unraveled
To be put back together by Ten.

     But now?

Now I feel I've touched a star
And found a piece of heaven.

On a scale of one to ten,
     You're Eleven. 

Contradiction: A Silly Poem by Me.

You know, I don't get that upset
When I meet a cute boy one day,
And within moments after we've met
He says the words "I'm Gay."
It's funny. You would think that I'd
Be torn apart, frustrated.
You'd think that I'd be dying inside
Because there's no chance I'd be dated.

You'd think I'd pine, that I'd cry and I'd whine
That such a gem could not be mine.
You'd think I'd make a big ol' fuss
At the notion that there would be no "us."

But surprisingly I feel no grief.
No envy, no resentment.
In fact, I almost feel relief,
And -- dare I say? -- contentment!

I know now what he's looking for.
I know just what he'll choose.
I have no chance! He's closed the door.
And now I have nothing to lose.
I'm totally fine if he's dating another
Even when he's the man of my dreams.
I'm fine seeing him as a friend or a brother.
You don't see me wish he'd change teams.

With gays, I don't feel any stings.
Cuz he just can't help the way he swings.
I don't feel the need to beg or to chase
A guy who finds love in a VERY different place.
It's like he's on a different pole.
It's out of my control.
I don't know why I feel that way...
When the guy is gay.

Now, let's go to a scene I hate:
I meet this awesome guy.
Turns out he's straight, and we go on a date
He gives me a college try.
My heart is in a happy whirl.
I'm thinking he's the one.
But then he finds another girl.
And so he says it's done.

And then -- oh gee! -- it's like World War Three!
My heart feels so much ache!
I do all I can. I beg and plea:
"You've made a big mistake!"

My grief is so great
When the guy is straight!

I just don't get the difference.
This reas'ning seems more clear:
To pine for any just doesn't make sense.
Whether he be straight or queer.

So now I find myself asking why
My heart needs so much healing.
I forgive a gay man, but not a straight guy.
Even though both can't help what they're feeling!

So when he's looking for love in a lady fair,
And he manages to spot it...
(Could be her smile, could be her hair --
Whatever it is, I don't got it.)

I can't complain. The two belong.
It's pointless to put up a fight.
It's not like I've done something wrong.
It's just I wasn't right.

When I don't have what another needs.
There's nothing left to stay for.
It's nothing that I said or did.
She's just the one he's gay for.
:D

THE END

Scars/To the New Boyfriend

I really want to post this in more places, but it hits so close to home and I know that people will tell me I shouldn't post this so early after things happened.  But man... It's like this guy took all of my feelings and presented them in a form more perfect than I can imagine.

So real.... It all felt so real.

I think God told me to look up some Slam Poetry today.

Listening to:  Josh Groban Christmas music from the distant downstairs.  Loving home.
Blessings:  Parents.  A's.  New sequin jackets.
Learned:  A little more about the terrible shooting that happened in a Connecticut Elementary School today.  There are some things I wish I could un-learn.
Things going on today:  NOTHING.  I'm gonna veg all day today.  And I'm loving it.

(Happier) New Year

Okay, 2012.  Time to stare you down and just accept the fact that you happened.

This was, by far, the hardest year I've ever had to endure in my 22 years of living.  Just for context, I believe a close second would be the year 2009.  It's not like life gets harder with each progressing year.  A lot of hard things happened this year:

1. I discover I have anxiety and depression.  I still need to be healed.  I've seen psychologists, but then when I start feeling better, I stop and then things get bad again.
2.  I get dumped three times in one year -- and they were hard rejections.  That was probably the hardest part of this year.  Trying to pick up pieces after a two-year-long relationship that had a ton of issues in the first place is something I would never wish on anyone.  I remember crying every night for two weeks straight and feeling so sick I vomited.  Then there were two one-month spells that began great, but crashed and burned for no explainable reasons.  I'm still not over any of it.  I still wonder what the heck is wrong with me.  Heck, I'm still here mourning over ones that got away years ago.  Two of my exes are now happily married.  I very well could have been the bride at one of them.  Don't know what you got 'til it's gone, I guess.  Ugh. Regret.  What a bitter feeling...
3. I lost my three best friends in a matter of days.  I'm pretty sure I wouldn't still be standing today if it weren't for them.  But the minute I get back from Cali, they're gone.  Moving.  Leaving me alone.  Suddenly I found myself living on my own at a vulnerable time and that was really tough. Sleeping in a silent apartment with depression for two months was hell.
4. Sometime during that period, I develop an eating disorder.  That's never fun to go through, much less to simply admit.
5.  I have been in school for over a year straight.  That's a little crazy.  Sure, I had some small vacation moments, but really, this whole year has been about buckling down and getting back on track with graduation.  I'm technically "caught up" now, but having a 5-year undergrad still isn't great.  How I managed to get through five semesters straight without stopping is beyond me.  Perhaps it was my refuge.  Just one sight-singing assignment, one lesson plan, one practice hour at a time.  That will get me through the pain...

BUT... 

... with all this grief and hardship and strenuous work, I MUST analyze my successes.  And there are quite a few of them.  I forget sometimes when times are tough how blessed I am -- and how capable I am!  Check out this list:

1.  4.0, baby!  Not joking, it always feels good looking at your report card after a hard semester and seeing A after beautiful A looking back at me.  My shrink says it's a crutch, but at least it's one that will give me good standing for grad school.  Really, I'm just happy that I have mastery over something in my life.
2.  I got to go to California to see my wonderful old roommate get married to the man of her dreams.  To be a part of a wedding party -- to be picked! -- is such an awesome feeling.  I got to help make someone else really happy, and I got to get out of Provo on top of that.  San Diego was beautiful.  I got to wear some of my favorite dresses and there are some awesome pictures of me up on Facebook now.
3.  I also got to make a visit to my dear home in Minnesota at the end of the summer.  That was a much-needed break.  It got me away from my boy troubles and I got to spend a lot of quality time with my family.  Then there was the awesome road trip back to Utah with my mom and sister.
4.  Heck, I got a car this year.  That's awesome right there.
5.  I also moved this year.  Just at the very tail end, a few days ago.  I'm living with my grandparents now.  No rent.  New ward.  Own room.  Awesome company.  I needed to get out of that old apartment so bad.  There were just too many memories attached to that old place.  And having to pay such an exorbitant price every month was burning a hole in my wallet.  Now, I feel free and safe.  This is good.
6.  BYU Singers.  As much as I am not enjoying going these days, I really do think this has been a blessing for me.  Again -- getting picked.  I was selected to be in this amazing choir because I earned it.  That's always a wonderful feeling.  And I have made friends!  My alto friends, some boys, and of course Dr. Staheli.  I don't know what I would do without him.
7.  When it comes to my relationships... In a way, I'm pretty excited about them.  Yeah, they didn't last, but heck, I got them in the first place! It was a great month of May.  And an even great month of November. It's funny:  Every man I've ever really wanted, I've gotten... At least, for a short while.  And I pick'em better every time.  As much as I wish things worked out, it's still nice looking at this guy or that and be able to say to myself, yeah I DID kiss that face.  And it kissed me back.  Makes me feel dang sexy.  If I can get my idea of superman not once but twice in one year, I can do it again!  And next time, I won't be as stupid.  Next time, it will be for keeps.  For good.  Eternity, maybe.
8.  I have not worn the same outfit once all year.  I almost have had enough clothes to wear something different each day.  I also acquired two suits, two wigs, Fame, and Juicy Couture this year for nearly nothing.  My clothing and my matrix have really seen an upgrade this year.
9.  I was in an opera.  That's pretty important.  It led to a pretty worthwhile relationship and a ton of other friendships that I hope last.
10.  I'm actually performing songs now.  I went to an open mic and that led to me performing at small restaurant venues this semester.  I've written a lot, too.  And finished a lot.  I've also helped out some friends of mine in their musical endeavors, which is a good thing.  Music has been such an important release.  I couldn't have survived a lot of my trials without it.
11.  Friends.  That's been the biggest blessing of my life.  The friends I've had.  Especially the friends I didn't know I had.  God puts people in your life for a reason.  I'll never forget the love and support I have felt this year from the people around me.

The most important lesson I think I learned this year is this:  I am worth it.  I'm worth the $80 Fame fragrance that I've always wanted.  I'm worth the awesome home teachers I've had.  I'm worth the 20 minutes of stage time I get to perform my originals at a sports bar.  I'm worth the late hours with Nyquil and chicken soup if I'm sick.  I'm worth the spot in BYU's top choir.  I'm worth more than a douchebag who doesn't respect me.  I'm worth more than an apartment that won't fix my swamp cooler.  I'm worth more than 200 calories a day.  I am of infinite worth, and for the longest time I have been selling myself short.  I've been settling for less than I deserve.  This is such an important revelation.  At first, this new discovery led me to believe that I deserved to treat other people badly and to not trust anyone.  It led me to be angry and bitter towards everyone who's treated me with disrespect.  But now, at the end of the year, with a few months of therapy, experience, and just plain time behind me, I think I'm moving back into balance with my life.  I can have high expectations of myself and others without being cold and vindictive towards myself or towards others.  I can take myself seriously... but not too seriously.  I think my New Years Resolution this year will be something along the lines of this:

I resolve to seek true happiness in my life.  And if I don't get it right away, I resolve to be happy anyway.  

And with that, I end my post on a joyful note.

Listening to:  My man Pitbull.  "Don't Stop the Party"
Blessings:  No school.  No work.  Trips to Minnesota.
Learned:  Alexander McQueen's 2004 and 2005 lines aren't nearly as dramatic and awesome as his earlier stuff.  However, his Fall 2005 season was based on the 1960's, particularly the iconic Marilyn Monroe.  That's become one of my favorite seasons.
Things Going On Today:  I go to a performance at Muse tonight.  Move all my stuff over.  Maybe stop at work for a short time.

Concerning Readership...

Part of me wonders if it's a good idea to let people know this blog exists, because it's something I've had for a really REALLY long time and it's got lots of... well, interesting material in it. These days I only post when a certain stroke of genius philosophy comes on, but that often involves personal stories and stuff that maybe people don't need to know.  

But here's the thing... I keep diaries.  Hard-core.  Not just my personal journal... I have books -- literally BOOKS -- full of song lyrics, journals for spiritual stuff, random notebooks with scribbles and ideas and such... why post a blog?

Well a blog can be read by others.  It's main purpose is to PUBLISH ideas.  And who better to read my ideas -- at least ones I find worth sharing -- with friends?  

So yeah, I'm an interesting person with interesting thoughts.  But as I think I said in my last post, there's much more to me than this.  I'm learning in my multi-cultural education class right now that you can NEVER completely understand another person.  When I'm dead, you can read my written journals and then you'll get a better picture.  

Learned:  How to tie a four-plait braid.

Listening to:  Nothing, but I have fracking "Cosi Fan Tutte" running through my head.  Again.  And again.

Blessings:  Gentlemen, bobby pins, and face masks.

Things Going On Today:  Dr. Staheli says "Lady Gaga" during class.  We actually get out of rehearsal before 11 o'clock.  And I fall asleep in chorale... again... much to the dismay of my sister.  

The Great Dishonesty -- And a Great Experiment

So... I found out today that someone I know personally reads this and gets concerned when I write certain things about my life that seem... well, depressing.  It's now making me VERY self-conscious about what I post here.  I always thought this was a place I could go to get feelings out quickly.  I keep a VERY detailed handwritten account of my life in journals, but sometimes writing is too slow and a stroke of emotion/genius/whatever would pass me by if I tried to write it out by hand.  So I type it out here.  And I don't usually go back and edit anything or make it sound nice or understandable.  I just WRITE.  I really haven't expected too many people to actually READ this... or at least take it super seriously.

There's a lot more to me than what you see on this blog.  Trust me.

So, just to clear the air.  Yes, I was depressed.  Yes, people should have been concerned.  And they were.  My Bishop wondered if I was anorexic.  My home teachers wondered if I was suicidal.  I wasn't either of those things, but I think part of me wanted people to think I was.  But that, in itself, should concern people.  It concerns me very much.

It's kind of funny.  I'm a complete sucker for attention.  It doesn't matter if it's good or not, I just want attention.  Sometimes I lie just so I can get people to notice me.  Back when I was in Junior High, I would scrape needles along my wrists just enough so that they looked like scars you get from slitting your wrists. I never actually slit my wrists.  Never.  But I made people think that I did.  I'd show my "scars" to everyone at school and eventually some good friends of mine told the school counselor and I was brought in to her office to "talk."  She kept telling me that I was loved and there were other ways to release the stresses in your life besides self-mutilation, but that all went in one ear and out the other because I knew that already.
I remember telling my mom that I cut.  She read through my lie like a book, so she didn't really care.  She just told me not to do it again and that was it.  I was so disappointed with her response, I grounded myself for the next three weekends.  I'm not joking.

It's sad.  I don't think I've changed that much since Junior High.  I still identify people as either "the popular kids" or the "unpopular kids" and I base my social interactions on those trite judgments.  I wear the same goofy fishnets and bustiers-over-t-shirts that I wore in eighth grade.  I still freak out like a twelve-year-old when I don't get my way.  And I still lie.  All the time.  I'm always constantly lying!  Trying to look more confident, more intelligent, more hard-core, more deviant, more jaded, more shy, more righteous, more sincere than I actually am.  Maybe that's the only reason why I listen to Lady Gaga and wear four-inch heels and write music.  I'm trying to portray this image of me as an "artist" when all I am is a fake.  Poser.  Sell-out.  Lie.  

But you know what?  I think the world is full of lies.  People lie all the time.  It's why girls wear make-up and shave their legs...  Gosh, why do we shave our legs anyway?  We all know that hair grows down there!  No one is fooling anybody!  Why be ashamed of something so natural, so unimportant?  Why are we ashamed to admit that we have issues?  Why do men insist on acting like "tough guys" when inside they have these things called feelings that are perfectly normal and justified?  Once, while I was waiting for a Bishop's interview, I read in a Psychology Journal that men are twice more likely to commit suicide then women, and one of the hypotheses for why that happens is that men refuse to accept help from anyone. They want people to think they're okay, they're in control.  They lie!!! Why do they do that?  Why do we, as a society, feel like we need to hide who we are all the time?

I feel like a total hypocrite when I say this, but it really bugs me when I see people on the internet complaining about how no one likes them, but they insist on spending every waking minute of their lives doing freaky, anti-social things like obsessing over teenage heartthrobs and writing violent poetry about their ex's girlfriends.  Again, I will acknowledge the fact that I am a total hypocrite, but I know I'm not as bad as some of the girls I know online.  Tumblr is a fascinating place.  These teenage girls publish post after post of these Instagram-created pictures of little slips of paper that they tore out of their Moleskine notebooks with sloppy handwritten song lyrics from some "obscure" band written on them.  Every Valentine's Day, they sit on their laptops and share their sob stories about how nobody likes them and how they're forever alone.  They post charts, comparing themselves to "other girls" who love makeup and boys and plastic and they claim that they're soooooo different from other people and that's why they can't get the guy or be popular.  They collect pictures of pretty Hipster things and fancy toys and expensive fashion that they can't afford. They talk about how no one understands them and they die their hair funny colors and take goofy pouty pictures of themselves because that's the only way they can think of to "express themselves." They follow celebrities as if doing that will connect them somehow. They live -- obsess over -- this LIE.  They're NOT different from anyone else.  Their story is the same as HUNDREDS OF OTHERS.  It's MY story.  It's my roommates' story.  Believe it or not, you're not the only one who sits by herself in her room on Valentine's day.  Just because you post artsy crap on your Tumblr account doesn't mean you're an artist.  And instead of griping over how no one likes you, or pretending like you know the Jonas Brothers SO WELL because you've posted every possible picture of them that you can find, why not go out INTO THE REAL WORLD and make friends with REAL people?  STOP LIVING YOUR INTERNET LIE!  STOP TRYING TO BE SOMETHING YOU'RE NOT!  BE A REAL PERSON.

And Taylor Swift?  STOP.  Just stop!  Stop writing about how you can't get the boy.  You're the prettiest girl on the planet.  Every man wants you.  Stop complaining.  There are girls out here in the REAL, NON-CELEBRITY world who have never had a date in their lives.  Girls who've been abused by their boyfriends. Girls who would give ANYTHING just to hear someone say "I love you" to them. You are spoiled.  There's no way you can understand how it feels to be ugly.  And now that I think about it, stop writing songs about how guys are calling you telling you "I still love you," and you're all like, "This is SO EXHAUSTING having guys call me and tell me they love me all the time!"  LADY...  DO YOU HONESTLY EXPECT ME TO FEEL SORRY FOR YOU?  You're complaining about how everyone wants you!  Stop it!!  Just get married already so I don't have to listen to your crap.

Okay, this post has DEFINITELY gone off the track I expected it to go.  The point is...  We all lie.  I lie a lot.  I've lied so much, I'm not even sure what the truth is anymore.  Lady Gaga says that she lies on purpose, over and over again, because the idea is that you lie until it becomes true.  Now, I'm not sure if I agree with that entirely. I believe there are some truths that will never change, no matter how much time you spend in denial.  But I do feel like I've created my own reality -- my own identity -- by lying to myself.  I don't want to lie anymore.  I want to be the REAL me, but I have absolutely no idea what that is!!  How do I even start finding it?

Experimentation, I guess, which is why I have been spending the last few weeks being incredibly cold towards humanity in general.  I've been taking crap from people for so long, I'd like to see what happens when I stop taking that crap and just throw it right back.  I may scare some people away, but maybe I'll feel happier with this more stalwart, tenacious, resilient me.  The "I don't care" me. I don't know how long it's gonna last, but I'd like to see if I gain confidence by acting apathetic. It's like Nicki Minaj says, "If you can't handle my worst, you ain't getting my best."

But of course, deep down, I'm sure that's also a lie.  I DO care.  A lot.  But perhaps I just need to dull my senses to that care a little bit so I can find a balance between caring and not caring.  I mean, I'm sure I'll survive even if I end up not getting a date for a whole year or never getting to know my roommates.  Maybe if I just survive enough, I'll grow more comfortable with it and disappointing people would become more easy to take.

I just need a complete re-do.  Extreme Makeover:  Soul Addition.  Maybe I can have a butterfly room.

This has gone on long enough.

So I have issues.  Sue me.  And if what I say on this blog depresses you that much, stop reading it.  I would almost like it better if no one read it, if that is the case.


Things going on Today:  Stake leadership training.  I got no homework done this weekend.
Blessings:  Friends, of course.  But also... enemies.
Listening to:  "Marilyn Monroe" by Nicki Minaj -- One of the greatest songs of all time, and one I relate to immensely at the present moment.
Learned: (through experience)  It's better to communicate with people than to just bottle up feelings and never let them out.

Youth... Wasted on the Young.

I don't care what ANYBODY says about it.  I don't CARE if your parents didn't get married until their early 30's.  I don't CARE if you're 25 and have never had a boyfriend.  I don't CARE if you didn't graduate until you were well into your 20's.  I don't care if you served as a Sister Missionary three years ago.  I don't give a crap if you're fracking 50 and living alone with only a cat and a turtle for company.

I. Feel. Old.  Too old.

Too old to get a Ph.D.  Too old to get married.  Too old to record an EP.  Too old to begin a life.

If I sit still for too long, I can almost feel my uterus shriveling into a raisin.  Just when I decided that having a lot of kids might be fun...

I'm almost afraid to brush my hair because I feel like every time I do, more hair falls out.

I'm having knee problems.  KNEE PROBLEMS.  I'm falling apart!

And in the meantime, there are 18-year-olds... 18-YEAR-OLDS... Getting married.  Owning homes and having sex and making babies and wearing white dresses and getting joint bank accounts.  I'm almost positive I've wanted it more than any of them did.  It's not fair.

Of course I blame others for the fact that life has passed me by.  And of course I have kicked myself plenty for letting life pass me by.  But in the end, it doesn't make a difference.  My 22nd birthday fast approaches, and I have nothing of worth to show for it.

Back when I started High School, I imagined that in five years, I would be active, happy, married, educated...  Now, here I sit.  No boyfriend.  No degree.  Heck, I don't even have a credit card yet!  It's like my life froze at age 19 but my body is still growing, regardless.

I'm sure most of these words are written out of depression.  I discovered a couple weeks ago that yes, I was depressed.  I feel jaded.  Nothing that used to make me happy makes me happy anymore.  And asking for help and support only makes me feel worse.

This is turning into a diary entry.  That's not what I wanted.  I just wanted to let everyone know that I am reaching my mid-life crisis at age 22.  I'd better get a move on and buy a motorcycle like my dad.  That way, even though I had no panache or excitement in my life, I'll at least die in style.

If I'm not going to get a motorcycle, I'd at least should put some money into that Smart Car fund.  No need to think about buying a minivan anymore.

Some things I can do if I never get married:

Write a hecka songs about it.
Write a book... about Lady Gaga.
Scrapbook everything.
Buy all the clothes.
Put up pictures on my bedroom wall that I would never want a husband to see.
Get 8 PhDs.
Grow flowers and sing to them.
Shower in stilettos EVERY DAY.
Never clean.
Travel.
Paint.
Sing at the top of my lungs at midnight.
Own a ferret.
Have a personal gym.
Work part-time.
Learn to yodel.
Sew.
Flirt with strangers online.
Learn to pole dance....  And keep it a secret.
Knit something.
Bedazzle everything.
Watch chick-flicks all the time.
Serve the poor.
Paint furniture.
Teach music lessons to kids in my basement.
Read all the books.


Okay I feel better.

Things Going On Today:  Pioneer Day.  No internet at my house.
Blessings:  Grandparents.  Facebook on my phone.
Learned:  All about the "Jesus Lizard" -- or the Green Basilisk Lizard.  These are the lizards who can run on water by quickly creating pockets of air just under the surface of the water through the use of their semi-webbed feet.
Listening to:  PBS.