Melvin Revived

It's amazing what music does to humans.

It's day 260, and a lot has happened since day 1. I apologize for the lack of importance and oozing of already-been-repeatedness in that sentence, but I just felt like starting this out like that.

So I had decided to stay home from school today because I got sick. Sore throat, runny nose, that crap. It really is crap, though. I've drunk a few gallons of tea (not literally) though and re-read some of the Deathly Hallows. That was the only Harry Potter book I brought over; the whole series would probably be 50 pounds by itself. It's rather blustery today, too. This French wind is pretty violent towards our front door and balcony chairs. It's like... violent. 

Well anyway, I decided to listen to my iPod just now, and you know how your brain has photographic memory and a bunch of other stuff like that, like sound memory. Not sure what they call it really. 

So it occurred to me that whenever I listened to Ben Folds (Five), Jason Mraz and maybe like Panic at the Disco, and other bands I got into this year, I would think of France. Little images and events popping up, and just the general feeling of the place.

Take, for instance, the current song. Zak and Sara by Ben Folds. Great song. I first heard about it from one of my best friends, probably at least 5 months ago. My brain is conjuring up images of.. images of... well mostly me chatting with the friend on the computer, and also when I got the CD for Christmas.

As pathetic as that first image may be, you gotta give me some slack here. The Atlantic Ocean is large. And I have a Gmail. And a whole year to be separated by that ocean.

Another one by Ben Folds Five also has that hidden edge to it when listened to; driving back from this one skiing trip that I don't think I even blogged about, the current song was something like Don't Change Your Plans. And then my mom said something like, "...And you know, they say this is the best way to remember things- when you hear this song you'll think of this trip, and even me saying this." And obviously, I do.

Probably the most nostalgic song, however, is Jupiter (Gustav Holst). I used to listen to it pretty much every night before I went to bed back in late June or so, when we had to go soon. I had to sleep on the living room couch because my room is being used as the storage room. So I get that image. But I also get memories of band, which was the best thing ever. We played it in the winter concert in 7th grade. Good times.

So anyway. I just felt like sharing. I just feel so.... "yayfull" when I listen to music; almost like I can "do anything". Well not really that. More that life is just awesome, and just... you exist, you're alive. It sort of grabs you into this other perspective, or maybe several. And like it sets your priorities for you. Probably the same for you guys pretty much. Yup.

Whoa. Seriously only 105 days left. I asked my English friend at school what they did on the last day, and she said they had fun and shot at each other with water pistols (for some reason I found it somewhat amusing at her use of "pistol" as opposed to "gun"). I guess I shan't miss that. 

I think when I get home I'm going to delete my facebook. Or something. Sigh.

Poster

107.

Well, what. I decided to use prose (well, not poetry) today... sometimes it's just more effective. And mine tends to get raw. That could be said for not poetry I suppose as well, but we all have to get it out someway.

Ever since the first day, I've been thinking about going home and all that. It's gotten pretty exciting lately, with the numbers really waining down to those hopeful 2-digits. I've sort of let go on some of my grip on France, but am still sort of blinded. You know it's kinda funny; in the beginning, the end seems like the greatest fantasy- it's what you want. But you have to wait a while. So it moves on, the days pass, you learn some stuff, you breathe in oxygen again and again. Then, yeah, you blink, and you're where you are, which just so happens to be very close to the end. But suddenly, you're almost confused. I mean, all this time- "I want to go home I want to go home home home home yes I'm going home going home" and then you almost don't notice but you are going home, and while clinging on to that going home state, you most likely don't take so much stuff in, and maybe you don't.... want to go home. Well, you want to go home, but the numbers are just sort of misleading.

So the other day it occurred to me that, yeah, I really was going home, but was it too fast? I've taken tons of pictures; I've written tons of blog posts; I've learned a ton; I've met new people; learned (still am) a new language or two; had (and am in the process of having) a "once in a lifetime experience" and all that.. but to actually say goodbye to it?

But then I thought, you know what, I've got a lot. I honestly think I'm ready to go, but then again, still glad for the last "few" days. I'm happy where I am, but still have this inspirational gnawing to get back to where I was, to live with myself after and with all these new thoughts and ideas. I'm inspired; I can see where I (think I) want to go, who to be, what to do. Perspective.

But why even bother? World troubles. We've all just got our own ideas. Why should one person matter? Who cares. It's just all big, too everything.

But normally that feeling, that perspective, only really lasts a few hours or so. As you probably know from a few of my other posts. But it's worth it, and I know (I think) that someday, approximately 107 days from now, it'll become the only perspective, and I can just soak it in, soak in what I've been pondering about for all these months, from writing those little snippets in my cahier des textes (planner) and observing the 5iemes and 6iemes playing ping-pong and just strumming that acoustic guitar during lunch time.

Oh. I think I just lost the perspective. Not necessarily.

"Expression is when you're at one with nothingness and you just breathe with your playing."
- John Frusciante (who is, by the way, frickin' awesome {and pictured up there}).

This is soo ending.

{another "impulse" poem- probably going to be revised...}

I guess I just need to say it to your face
because you obviously don't get it
but I don't have that luxury
you don't know what you do
not even I know that
but at least acknowledge
at least say hi
what's up with this?
I'm too needy
I've asked so much
Living on lyrics to find the answer
but why bother
do you even care anymore?
Drifting our different ways
never on the same page
except way back when
It's my feelings getting to me; I have a hunch
Keeps coming back at me like a punch
So I can't ignore it
Maybe I'm too attached
Maybe I'm a creep
Dying from lack of sleep
Everyday, every chat, every pixel
eating inside but healing the apparent
This is soo ending.

Just Yesterday

{I'd categorize this one as one of those "sort of just acting on impulse"; the thoughts were coming, so I thought I'd just jump on the computer and spew it out. I mean, revision is free. I just got ideas. (hint hint- I am also very open to [constructive] criticism.) So yeah... Debussy also had a part in this.}

{Another note on (my) poetry: I guess I just tend to write phrases/words down that may or may not rhyme or even get anywhere. It doesn't seem to flow so great, and probably doesn't make any sense, but sometimes I like reading and hearing those vague, open stuff. You just sort of wrap your mind around it and lather on your own perspective. I don't normally listen or read something and let the artist's own... background or intention get involved. I like to just interpret stuff as I like. Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn't. You can probably figure out what I'm talking about here, but then again, you can (no duh) interpret it as you like.}

Just yesterday

The paving and beeping and backpacks laden my way

with memories

to the place that started after 

just yesterday

The new, the wet

the tall, the met

And then just yesterday

it is of a great rumbling that I came here

only to leave in a blink, as if you fear

Just yesterday

The highest form of entertainment being those silly rhymes

to fool short ones that think this is it, the time

It's always it; it's always 

just yesterday

And then a passage, a yell

an awkward, a hell

That started just yesterday

Because before that

was before that; the past

but the present

Just yesterday

The unknown face, unfamiliar existence

Becoming what you knew. Then you miss it.

Wide space of constant sides

Now knowing how to read the lines

Colors; brown, a hazing green

Behind where you see, what you've seen

No one else with that vision

Memory; with language it's a given

Oh, but language, language language...

Just yesterday had seen not knowing how to conjugate 

Or really knowing what to hate

And how did that soft artificial yellow and red

become a crackling piece of French bread?

Just yesterday, it was not a problem.

Just yesterday, no courage to call them.

Just yesterday-

Ignorance and not alive

Misunderstanding the joy of a high five

Tiring of now, which was the past

"it went by fast"

It's still going, it always does.

Forceful exhale of bottled-up fuss.

Just yesterday, we was talkin like dis

With size 4 and undersized hips

We were friends

oh- we are friends.

But remember the absence?

Getting over the fence?

Let's just go

what will happen is in the air, we hope

what has happened is behind,

now for our heads and making ropes

to tie us down and help us find

what we have thought always 

just yesterday

-----

I'll get goin' with a real blog post one of these days.. busy... needing poetry to express... tiring.... annoyances of course... perspective... words.... wanting to just get done.... you know.... thanks.

blue ink #16 - (How to Make Memories)

The keys were jingling. Dangling on her right, a mesh of silver bells. The almost-cheerful sound didn't quite fit the gray pavement we were standing on, much less her. Not very tall, waring a somewhat dull overcoat and other dark-colored garments which were almost too dull to remember. Which is why I don't. Black curly hair tightened back into a greasy pony tail, though her hair wasn't actually that shiny.

And then her face. Perhaps the most animated part of her, being able to sometimes make various facial expressions, though somehow still with an intense and severe air. I watched a few feet away as another teacher came up to ask her something, and she nearly bugged her eyes out, pulling them tight and wide and exaggerating her mouth, as though it were a daily exercise. This only lasted a few seconds and then she barked a few French words out in her constant melancholy tone. I got the feeling she didn't really like her job.

Turning back to us, she lifted up her left hand and with a bored expression, glared at her nails briefly and returned them to her pocket. Her face looked almost like a toad, actually. Or maybe some water creature. Dark skin, grave expression. I noticed a slight glint in her eyes as she then drew in a breath and parted the thin lips of her mouth.

She yelled a firm French sentence to the lot of us. Drew in another breath and yelled further orders. It wasn't such an aggressive yell; there weren't many of us. But then she inhaled again, still with that dark look and then my ears seemed to already ache as though knowing she would now unleash her fiery French dragon shout. But no, it was a false alarm and she remained at the same volume.

We then hesitantly lumbered up to etude, where most of us had 3 straight hours. Which actually I don't really mind, except that I'm missing an English class. And I was rather looking forward to it.

Man, time goes by fast. It's already Friday. And then it'll be Monday and I'll have to start the grueling week all over again. Sigh. But then it'll be Friday again. And this'll continue for only 15 more weeks. Or so.

I can remember back in those late 2008 months and looking at a calendar thinking I'll never get to "Mars" (French for March). I mean, it was like another planet. But then here we are.

You know, everyone keeps saying (talking) about how I'll remember this in college and later and life and all that, which is true of course unless I get memory loss or something. But then it occurred to me that, like, I had a lot of "power" right now. Well, you guys do too. Because it's like.. I'm living in the present, naturally, but knowing it'll be the past. But think about it. So, I'll look back on this year especially (probably) and I know it'll pass, so..

I mean I guess it's hard to explain. But it's almost like... controlling your memories. Controlling your past. But because of the present. Uh oh though... this is sort of sounding like 1984. But not really because I'm not changing the past. I'm not deleting it. I'm just sort of living in the present, future and past at the same time.

Take, for instance, me writing this blue ink. I'm imagining myself blogging about it in the future, knowing I probably will. I am still writing it though. I still am. But it'll pass; it'll become a memory. I know, I am aware and conscious that what I'm doing RIGHT NOW is actually the past. But also the future because you will probably read it. You're not reading it RIGHT NOW. But, ha ha, you are if you are, and right now is now. But when you read it, it'll be... then. I will have written it. It will have passed. But I'm still the only one reading it right now.

So, maybe it's bad to live life knowing things will just end, but it's easier to go through hard times like that I think. And it works everytime.

Lift up your hand or something. If you're reading this, and decided you would in fact lift up your hand, then you know it'll be next; the future. So, (if) you're doing it- the present. Then you put your hand back down and it's the past- seemingly at the same time as the present. Impossible.

And then of course, even as you read this you know it'll end and then it does and it's almost like you didn't. Those next sentences are memories.

Yup. "Once"-in-a-lifetime-experiences, for ya, eh?

(See? You finished reading. This is the past.)

---------------
Turns out I accidentally skipped English class; the teacher was there. Woops. But it was a complete misunderstanding and only like 8 people showed up. Whatever. It passed.

A Slightly Irrational Rundown of The 8/12 Situation

Guess what guys. Decision time. Which means, of course, me continuing my rants on why I hate the school here/etc, and more of my "depression", worrying and annoying whining.

But! Good news, folks. Only 120 days left, which probably means that maybe, just maybe, the posts might get slightly, maybe just slightly, more optimistic. Or maybe more cheerful/interesting/readable. But then again, should a writer assume things with their own writing...? Well I was just thinking.

And now, watch/read (with your pink eyes..), as I, your *cough* distinguished writer, attempt to run through the problem through blogging, perhaps in a pixeled trial to solve/organize the many thoughts circulating. But for some reason, I shall be writing it as if I was talking to someone. Maybe that way it won't seem like I'm a crazy hallucinatory that talks to herself, and that doesn't have readers.

So, as you probably know, I have to decide what courses I'll be taking next year and stuff. And stuff. Stuff, in this case, includes, but is not limited to, things I feel are necessary to worry about.

Take for example, the fact that I have not been learning history or geography pretty much at all this entire school year.

A product, no doubt, of the (*#%*!#*&$%^@##$&ing stupid French system. See, with the French school system, they don't even try to pretend to give that whole, "we want to provide the best learning environment for each individual" thing. Or any variation. Rather, it's quite the opposite; they make the students (and there are many) fit into their system, which is just the worst thing ever.

Of course, this is the slightly skeptical opinion from an annoyed teenager who was abruptly and without choice or interest thrust into the #*%&# system, so I dunno.

Let's take a look at my schedule, shall we?

I have a total of about 35 hours of actual school classes per week, and about 7 hours for lunch. These include:

On week A:
-7 hours of French math (including math speciales)
-5 hours of FLE
-4 hours of French
-4 hours of Spanish
-3 hours of English (I woud have 4, but a new FLE schedule changed that...)
-2 hours of sport (gym)
-2 hours of English math
-1 and a half hours of life and earth science
-1 hour of physical sciences
-1 hour of etude
-1 hour music
-1 hour art

On week B:
Same thing, except5 hours of French and only 1 hour of sport (gym).

I used to have 2 hours of French history/geo but because of FLE and Math Speciales (Which I shall refer to as MS), that is now completely removed. But that's just as well, because I didn't learn hardly anything, much less understand.

I used to have 2 hours of sport, but because I had MS the second hour, I could skip it.

I also, long long ago, had technologie for an hour and a half, but that also got removed by MS.

So, even though we are learning algebra in French math and trigonometry in English math, I'm not feeling all that confident going back to the old US system, my career of which (which) has been so rudely interupted.

I almost already feel like a "high school dropout"; I keep telling my parents that the school system back there won't really care about "once in a life-time experiences" and "scenic views"; they want me to be passing their tests, taking AP classes or whatever they're called and just fitting into their system.

So, ugh, I somehow have to learn a whole year's worth of American history/geography and possibly algebra. My dad says it's possible.

I want to learn algebra.
I want to learn American history/geography.

I wish I could just ask the school over here to cut me some slack.. I mean, I dunno... MS is pretty unnecessary, and I don't like or really need Spanish (I'm already learning 2 languages- gimme a break), I also don't really need life and earth science (I learned the stuff last year and stuff), or French class (not FLE- the French French class).

I mean, come on. I want an education here. And yeah yeah you adult types (and maybe kids) will just say, "if you want an education, you have to put in the effort, make wise choices" and blah blah. Which I don't disagree with, but... attempting to learn in sort of 2 different school systems at the same time, one being incredibly stressful, does not really work with me.

I try over here. It's not like I don't want to learn. Sometimes I'm disappointed with myself with not trying as hard as I thought I would, but you just... ugh.

Looking at this with an optimistic attitude- is algebra really that important? The first year to finish this year, I mean. I mean, I'll be in different classes than most of my friends, but I think I can take geometry and algebra in the same year sometime... as for history/geography, I think I should probably do something about that though. Because, really, there has been no learning involved. Unless you take in account my picturesque travels to different European countries, and seeing different places such as England, Italy and not to mention France. But still. None of that "capital of such-and-such country" and the governments and listening to those taped dialogues in the city stuff.

Do I regret these past 8 months? No.
Do I think it's worth it? I admitted I thought it was a few months ago.
It'll look great on my college application and all that jibb-kaj (new word), but the problem now is actually getting to college....

But, in other news, it's actually really seriously March.

8 months down.

4 is not such a big number. I mean, I've almost dreamed of being here. And here I am! Actually really seriously going to go home.

Ergh. Italy post probably going to be posted soon. Sorry about delay. And pictures. Tons of pictures.

Have fun with March. Almost there.

Shoulders

I know I haven't blogged in a while. I'll try posting the Italy post soon, but the Internet's been screwy.

We went skiing yesterday at the 3rd place in the Jura, where we hadn't gone before. At first we had planned to go to the Alps, but there was tons of traffic. I didn't actually really want to go. But it was fun I guess.

The subject of high school was brought up, and Zach told me it would be best to pass out of Algebra 1 this year, because otherwise I'll be behind the rest of the 4 years.

Behind.

Isn't this just wonderful? I highly doubt I can test out of Algebra 1 this year. We haven't even started really. I don't even care if that sounds pathetic because I don't think it is. My school sucks.

Isn't this so wonderful. ISN'T IT? IS IT NOT? IT IS JUST SO WONDERFUL. SO INCREDIBLY WONDERFUL. ISN'T IT??? IS NOT IT?????!?

Nah. I'm ok. I think. I just have to get some things out like that.

So, my choices are:

a) panic.

b) not worry, try to be optimistic.

c) somehow magically complete a whole year's worth of algebra into 4-6 months.

d) just do some algebra.

e) b and d.

The optimistic point of view:

Well, I mean, hey, you're spending a year in FRANCE and school is already really stressful. So I think you should just sort of chill. I mean, just think, years from now you'll look back, know you graduated from high school anyway. It'll be alright.

The pessimistic point of view:

OMG you are SUCH a FAILURE, Amelia!! This sucks! This really sucks! No! You're going to be BEHIND everyone in high school! Ugh! Failing. This sucks. Everything sucks. We're all going to die.

I guess I'll try to do e).

I started worrying again, for some strange reason. Things go ok, it's just slightly unpleasant. And often times the intimidation and missing and theoretical stress just gets to me. Maybe things got harder.

But I seriously just need to get this over with. I literally just have March, about half of April, May, June and a tad of July. And only 124 days. I remember when it was 150. And when it was Day 124. So, back to biting the bullet, finding that optimistic/perspective place again and ... talking to my friends I guess.

I might've said this a few times before, but my main strategy that worked for a while was just to say to myself, "This is all just going to be a memory." And it does work. Because, really, this is the life I get. This is it. Why let some stupid school that's really stupid get to and ruin me? And it didn't, really. It actually helped me. I guess. To a certain point.

I don't know what most of you guys think of my year in France. I mean, some of my friends have commented and stuff, saying encouraging things and stuff, but I don't really know. Probably the readers that thought I was so dang lucky to do this and then see my complain left by November or so. Maybe I haven't done a very good job of describing things. But the fact is, well, careful what you wish for, I guess. I never asked to do this thing. My parents told me other people would "beg" to do this. Several times. But obviously, not everyone likes this sort of thing.

I don't really know where I was trying to get to. More biting the bullet, more not talking to friends over the week (sigh), and more.. work I guess. It could be harder. It could be easier. It could be somewhat pleasant.

The thing with my school is, there's not really anyone you can go to (as in an adult) to just talk about your worries and stuff. Maybe in the English National Progamme, but not really. So basically you just go through the days complaining about how messed up the system is with your friends. The teachers aren't very helpful or encouraging, but some can be in the ENP. They normally are. The French ladies at the Vie Scolaire get majorly pissed at small things and vent their unneeded anger at random pupils.

Because of my new FLE schedule, I have to miss the first half-hour of my Sciences Physiques class. Which I hate. Sort of. Perhaps I'm making a lot of small things seem big in my mind. Still, this school can really... create.... annoyance.

And I just seriously get tired of changing perspectives. SERIOUSLY TIRED OF IT.

I just...

I'm tired of virtual hugs. I'm tired of Spanish class. 

It doesn't matter, it will end, I'm going home.