Dear Blog,

I’ve neglected you. I’m sorry! Really, I didn’t intend to, but all of these scary AP tests were flying my way, and I wasn’t feeling prepared. So I left you. You didn’t do anything wrong, I promise. In future, I promise to post my inconsequential nothings at least a few times a week (or as my summer boss allows time for).

Sincerely,
Ruby


Now that that’s out of the way, it’s good to be back! “Finals” are over as of this afternoon (which was an easy two hours of psychology questions and essays [easy meaning two hours feels short after spending near four on a European history exam]). Maybe I should catch you up on my life…

…Or maybe not. Really the only things it’s consisted of are intense study sessions and tests. And those are too boring to speak of. The only funny part of it all was when I overheard a couple of students talking to our proctor today about “Death of a Salesman”…which I actually almost really liked. Anyway, they didn’t like it:

“…And I spent the whole time reading it like, ‘why doesn’t Willy die already? We all KNOW he’s going to die!’ He was so mean. Arg! I hate that *book!”

Being the negative person you know me to be, I had a hard time not laughing. Or smiling. Or lecturing them on the symbolic depth of it all. However, I made life a bit easier for my social self by keeping my mouth shut.

So…what else to mention? Well, I had my NYSSMA competition, but since I spent all of that time studying, I really didn’t practice. Nor did I care. In fact, my teacher made me do it. So I…might have actually messed up a scale (a SCALE!) because I only started to get nervous when I went to play my second scale (a Db), so I didn’t even think about fingering…or key signature…or anything else. Yup. I messed up a scale for the first time ever at a competition. On the bright side, I totally rocked my sight reading (also for the first time ever), and the adjudicator only took off one point (for dynamics, which I thought was pretty cruddy of her). Even though I didn’t care about the year’s competition, I’m too prideful to post my score. I’m used to getting 98s and 99s (and I actually used to be upset with a 98), so it feels weird to publicize anything less than that. So let’s just say that it wasn’t a 99. Or a 98. On the bright side, it was above a 90 (and no, not a 91—I’m not that bad, even without practice). On the really really bright side, that was my LAST NYSSMA EVER! YAY!

The only other thing that I spent any time on would have to be reading. After studying at night, I’m too wound up to sleep, so I read. Then I get too wound up by the book, so I keep reading…past midnight. Past one. Past two. Occasionally past four. Anyway, I’ll mention a few books that I’ve sunk my teeth into.

The Bean Trees. This is by Barbara Kingsolver (who I’ve mentioned before, but I’m too lazy to look back through past posts to link to it), the author of “The Poisonwood Bible”—one of my favorite books. This one was actually recommended to me by an admissions councilor at Houghton College during an off topic interview. I enjoyed the book, but I couldn’t relate. Somehow I felt closer to the wilderness of the Congo than the desert of Arizona. Call me crazy, but arid heat is alien to me. Anywho, I would still recommend this book to y’all.

Sophie’s World. (This is not to be confused with “Sophie’s Choice,” a very different book.) I’m in the middle of this book right now, but I’m still going to tell you to find a copy. It’s basically like a philosophy textbook…that collided with a novel! Yeah! That makes me super excited, if you couldn’t tell. I’m learning and having fun and completely stumped by the mystery of the story. It’s good. Read it.

And Then There Were None. *WARNING* This is only for those of you who liked to feel shivers running down your spine at three in the morning when you can’t put down a book because you HAVE to know who the murderer is! It’s creepy! And disturbing! And delicious! Agatha Christie was a genius, and I’m pretty sure that she was one freaky lady, too. No normal person could be quiet so ingenious about sneaky murders. This one isn’t affiliated with either her Miss Marple series or her Inspector Hercule Poirot series. It’s actually more gruesome than either, so don’t tell me I didn’t warn you. While on the subject of Marple and Poirot, my impression is that Poirot deals with more cold blooded murders, while Marple is into the emotionally driven ones. This means that, ultimately, Marple is more chilling than Poirot. I must be twisted since I adore either (though I do prefer Poirot and his splendid mustache).

There were others, but those were the three that were actually coming out in cohesive sentences, so we’ll stick with them for now. I’m racking my brain for anything else that I might unburden on you tonight…

Oh! Well, as for more inconsequential nothings, my brother is officially home for summer holidays and I start work on Thursday (lucky little me, eh?).

…And that’s all! Until tomorrow, dear blog!



*Yes, they called it a book. Um, I don’t know about you, but I’ve never read a book with scenes and acts.