The Turning Point

I wrote this poem in 9th grade, called The Pivot. It talked about this pivot point, to turn one direction is one life. It is a life full of questions with answers and comfort. The other way is a long road, many questions with few answers. This life is a journey.

So I think I've finally hit this pivot. Tiffany was talking about how this happens sometimes, you reach a point where you either chose the road to improvement and mastery or chose the road of comfort. I do not want to do anything else with my life, I do not want to major in Russian nor do I just want to be an educator. Education is not a back-up, I believe that all of the knowledge I'm gaining is making me a better musician. And I also believe that I will enjoy teaching very much. HOWEVER- I want my freaking turn in the spotlight. I see concerts and I feel a pull to be up on the stage. When I feel the most comfortable it is when I'm sitting in an ensemble and just surrounded by music. THIS. IS. WHAT. I. WANT.

I know that I've said that I'm realizing how much it takes, but this time I am making the conscious choice to stop being scared. I am not going to be hesitant. I am not going to be overly-concerned about working around other people. I am done with reflecting and letting personal problems get in the way. You wanna know why? Cause fuck that. I am strong, smart, and I don't need you to like to me to prove my self worth.

You ain't seen nothing like me yet.

And so it begins....again.

I am sitting here in my kitchen with my lovely roomates. Aka friendmates, a term coined by my friend Stephanie who at one point was a friendmate of Henry but not me, but still a friend of mine. We tight.

Auditions are over! I did alright I think- mostly I just enjoyed the interaction between myself and the panel members. Those guys crack me up, and the chemistry between Dr. Allen and Dr. Mikkelson is hilarious. For example, before I played my audition Dr. Allen told me that he actually knew where Brockport was. In fact he had been there. That has literally never happened since I've been at OSU. Not by one person. Ever. Naturally, I automatically fell in love with Dr. Allen. On my way out he asked, "Oh...what's the name of the coffee place on main street, to the right...right after the bridge?" I instantly answered the only coffee place in Brockport- "Oh, you mean Java Junction?" "Yes!" Meanwhile Mikkelson is sitting there cracking up. I don't really know why but I think it was because of the huge lack of relevance. Personally it put my mind at ease.

It was also great seeing everyone back- I really did hate seeing the school of music so completely DEAD. It was creepy. Now the sounds that used to annoy me such as the blarring trumpet on the 4th floor or the jazz sax playing the same I find comforting. Yeah....that will last all of a week. If that. Actually make that the end of this week.

Some goals for the quarter:

1- I am just taking the classes I need. I meant to take Ballet but I think it will just be too much. Instead this open spot will go to practicing. That way I can get most of my practicing out of the way by dinner time, which means after dinner can go to homework!

2- Naturally I will become amazing at horn. This is a given.

3- 4.OH. This is completely plausible.

4- Professional standing in 1 quarter. Boosh.

5- Work. Cause I have to. 25 to 3o hours a week.

6- Exercising slash taking care of myself.

That's about it. In case you didn't know, I can do this. It will happen.

My apartment is AWESOME by the way. I finally have a home of my own. Ahhh. More to come later on that, probably an entire post. There may be pictures involved. I know, this is a very enticing proposition.

Here's to doing your own thang.

MKH

I an grateful for not coming out of the audition in tearce. I am also so very grateful to see so many people that I really like spending time with. I am a very fortunate person.

First off- I apologize for the last post. Everyone has their dark times but I apparently feel the need to publish mine? I don't know why, but I know it got me into trouble in high school, looks pathetic, and really is no one else's business. So, in the future I will keep that shit to myself.

Here are a few of my thoughts recently:

I am sick and tired of the disclaimer that comes with college relationships, everyone having the expectation that it will fail. Don't get too entangled, you are only 20, chances are it won't work out, etc... Do you know how old that gets? Even if it's true, especially in terms of financial entanglement I would like to say 2 things- #1 I am not an idiot. I know that a large percentage of college relationships don't work out. So I will not start a joint bank account or anything with a man I met 2 years ago.
#2- I don't think that anyone realized how much it hurts to have people expect your relationship to fail. That is not fair. Because if something is repeated by so many people in your life, it does set in. Even if I don't believe it, my mind still takes the time to decide to reject that idea and in that time it's implanted itself in my brain. It's not worth my time. So stop bringing it up. It is so incredibly rude really and the future is scary and uncertain enough without your lack of support. So, in conclusion, shut up. I don't appreciate your lack of faith. Duh end.

The other thought I am too tired to completely write down right now- it's been quite a weekend. Because of the tornado on Thursday I didn't leave for New York until Friday, when I drove for 7 hours from Columbus to Syracuse. I then proceeded to fit in a summer's worth of fun into one night. I then drove up to Rochester for my cousin's bridal shower- I am so excited for her! I freaking love weddings. After that my family and I visited my grandparents, my sister and I went to the mall where a substantial amount of female bonding occurred (for the first time in a very long time!), and then to an old firehouse remodeled to be a restaurant for some grub. I love my family in such an intense way. All of them really, but the women I find really inspiring. And despite the moaning about cramps, hormones, and a decent amount of maintainence, I LOVE being a woman. Fierce!

I have an idea that is starting in my mind of a special performance at the end of my recital. It's supposed to be a celebration after all!

I am grateful for my family and for coming from a family with such beautiful and strong women. They are all an inspiration for me.

Boop-a-doop,
MKH

"I'm not coming out of this box until everyone has forgotten me."- Julia Nunes

I've gotten to the point where I don't know if I need a therapist or a priest or a hug. Get low, baby. It's time for me to get low and let go.

An Apology

Henry David Thoreau once said,"I should not talk so much about myself if there were anybody else whom I knew as well. Unfortunately, I am confined to this theme by the narrowness of my experience."

I find this completely true. I cannot judge the world based on anyone else's experiences, only what I see through my own eyes. There is the hope that deep down in all of us there is a common ground but we are all taking different paths to be there, so by really knowing yourself you are actually getting to know others.

Nevertheless, I wanted to apologize to anyone who reads this- if anyone reads this- for consistently rambling on about myself. I promise that once I actually start socializing and interacting with other people again this will change. After all, how can I write about things that I don't find to be true though my own experience?

Dreams

I've never been quite sure of what dreams are. My parents made me believe that there is something of importance to be found in them, especially those dreams you just can't shake when you wake. The people who say that they mean nothing....well quite frankly I think they are dumb. There has to be something causing these complex thoughts and situations in our brains when in reality the only thing we are seeing is the back of our eyelids. One group of people says it's your subconscious trying to feed you what going on inside of you. Another says that dreams are God trying to communicate with us. Another says they are memories from a past life. And even another says they are just the products of your imagination, the human creative spirit at work. I think maybe it's all of these.

When I was little I had normal dreams- there was one I had in 1st grade where I flew! I was jumping from one giant geometric shape to another; cube to cylinder and then, when I tried for the sphere and slipped off, I simply took flight. It was amazing. My nightmares were normal, spiders chasing me, always something chasing me. I had such an overactive imagination that I pictured the villains and monsters of my nightmares chasing my into my parents room as I leapt into their bed for comfort.

When I got older the spiders turned into something a bit more sinister- Nazis. A lot of them. I would always try to be invisible, always concentrate all of my energy on just being overlooked by them. And there were times that I escaped, but then again there were times I did not. People underestimate how exhausting dreams can be. I would wake up tense and exhausted.

There was also one time I prayed the rosary and to God to help me find my Area All-State music because I had misplaced and I was in DEEP shit. I had a dream that it was in a file cabinet, in a plastic bag with a bunch of other papers. I woke up and told my mom about it who then riffled through plastic bags full of various papers from our messy lives and, sure enough, there it was. See, God will provide!

There was another time I dreamt I met God in the post office. He leaned down and whispered something in my ear. I remember that dream because I woke up just feeling this light bursting within me, all of this love radiating throughout my body.

Recently, my dreams have taken a dark turn. Pretty consistently actually. It started with the Holocaust dreams- almost weekly I would dream of being a Jew during WWII and subsequently the Holocaust. Other than that, I have been to a slumber party that turned into everyone hanging themselves. I have also identified my father in a morgue, but he was wearing mime make-up for some weird reason. I have seen Henry shot in the back of the head, I have been hunted by a serial rapist and killer and that my father was a serial killer. And Irish one actually. I have awoken so many times with such grief in my heart, I don't know what to do about it anymore. These are not normal dreams. I would kill to just be naked in public, pop out a baby, or lose a few teeth, all of which are "normal" nightmares.

I don't think I am a morbid person. I really just don't understand why my mind is full of these constant and REALISTIC thoughts of death. It sucks.

Good dreams are nice too- I had one where Dave Matthews gave me a private concert. I also had one where I was getting a free lesson from Gail Williams. I just think that to counterbalance my bad dreams, I need it to be Christmas every day in my good dreams. Do they have dream analysts?

Get me one of those.

Funny enough, it is time for bed.

Good night everyone! Sweet dreams.

Mariah

I had a cannoli over the weekend...2 actually. And then an Italian bakery sub- roast beef, lettuce, tomato, onion, provalone. Bread baked that day. Oh my god, delicious. I also consumed- organic and locally grown apples, fresh mini-donuts fried right in front of me smothered in cinnamon and sugar. Homemade oatmeal raisin cookie. BBQ chicken, cornbread, seafood corn chowder, mac and cheese, and a peach "round pie". Aka tart. Greens and beans- my mom's specialty- which consists of sausage, escarole, and a certain kind of bean. And fresh baked rye bread. Ice cream. 2 Pumpkin spice lattes with soy. Frozen grapes, a cheese sandwich, and a tomato, feta, and onion omelette. I ATE IT ALL! And you know what?

IT WAS FREAKING DELICIOUS.

I love food, I do. In my family it has always been a way to show love and caring. Dinner time was a very big deal for my mom who would come home after a full day of teaching and cook us a meal. My extended family also values food- good food, good beer, and good people. That is our unspoken motto. There is a very sincere possibility that this is an unhealthy attachment and has probably lead to my struggles with weight. Foods trigger memories- my grandfather picking me up from preschool and giving me a few slices of sharp cheddar. Candy corn reminds me of the time I was sick for Halloween and my cousin went trick-or-treating for me and gave me all of the candy. And perhaps the most delicious memory of all- turkey, stuffing, gravy brussels sprouts on a Sunday after youth orchestra. I absolutely love brussels sprouts...and asparagus for that matter. I do however HATE lima beans...it's a texture thing. And of course lima beans remind me of Alexander and the No Good Very Bad Day, a children's book my mom used to read us.

To me, food means family and friends. It means comfort and warmth. I am learning self-control when it comes to food and have almost been forced to learn this as a very poor college student. Maybe it was the independence of finally shopping for myself that has alighted my love for cooking. I will always have onion in my house. That is necessary. I really enjoy the European outlook on food. Italians and the French eat buttery croissants and drink whole milk cappuccinos but they have LESS of it. Granted the first paragraph is the opposite of this philosophy, but think about how much more satisfied you are after you head a delicious and well-prepared meal versus ordering a Big Mac. That need to keep eating disappears because you appreciate what you are putting into your body and savour every bite. I am seriously considering living on produce, fresh baked bread, and olives next year. Oh and cheese. Mmm cheese.

In conclusion I am actually just very hungry and waiting for work to be over so I can go eat dinner.

I am grateful for Jena Shellhammer. She is back in the United States today. And I see her tomorrow. EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!! I am also very grateful for Henry coming to New York with me. I also just love New York. I am proud to be from there and always will be.

Love you all,

MKH

Letchworth State Park. It's in New York. Ownage.

A man just hit on me by saying, "Come paint my house, baby!" while staring at my unmentionable parts. Ohhhhhhh man. Sexy.

OH MY SWEET JESUS I NEED A CANNOLI. Very rarely to I crave something this hardcore. But...I need one. Who wants to fly me to Boston so I can go to Mike's? Hmmm?

OK, heading home for the weekend. Henry's back which makes me very happy- we went to the season opener yesterday! Spontaneously! It's very exciting for me to see Henry goes through his professional life and see things come together for him. Every audition, every band, and every performance is one step closer to being the complete musician that the military bands are looking for. As you get older- yes I'm aware that we're barely out of our teens- but I think it's getting to be more obvious to both of us that life is about the journey, not the destination. Cliche, yes but also very correct. I am so proud of him.

Boosh- MKH