Snow Day

You always hear how when a state (excluding Utah) gets about 2 seconds worth of snow and the whole city is completely shut down. Ever since we were little we have wished for a day like this. And today, it came. They have always said that it was take a mile of snow to even call one, so in a round about way, never in a million years.

Maple Mountain has been planning a precious little preforming arts assembly since the beginning of the school year, and I was in about 3 numbers. So, this morning I woke up, curled my hair, put on stage make-up all before I opening my curtains to see what was... a mile of snow. It was more snow than I had ever seen in my life. But it didn't click in my brain. I had a million other things running through my head. Snow is snow. That's not changing for me. So, I put on my Christmas sweater, hosted on my backpack, clipping the dorky strap across my chest just to show the world that I could handle the snow it threw at me, and began to walk up my stairs. Right then my phone began to vibrate off the wall. I received about 30 texts saying 'Snow Day!!' But, I didn't believe it. I wouldn't in fact. I mean, you can't trust a student, even if it was 30 different ones.

Kelsey, my ride texted me and told me that she was coming only a little late because she was stuck and she just had to finish scraping her car off, she said she would be there soon, and I was totally okay with it, as long as I made it to Mr. Roach's class that day I would be fine. He had said the last Friday that there would be a test today on Act 2: (of) Macbeth, and that he would be handing out a big term assignment that would be due by the end of Christmas break. And to be perfectly honest, I was excited to get it.

It had begun to be a while since I had received that text from Kelsey and the snow had just barely began to make me wonder. I jumped onto the computer and logged onto the Nebo District website.

SCHOOL HAS BEEN CANCELED FOR

ALL THE NEBO SCHOOL

DISTRICT SCHOOLS. NO SCHOOL TODAY.

what.

You have got to be kidding me. I was totally excited for this to day to perform and get... homework. Wow. So, I walked outside, shrugging my bag off my shoulders, out into the snow, and embraced it. It was like we had all been praying so hard for snow, but God was sleeping, and when he woke up, he had a million requests for snow, so he switched on the 'light snow' button and then fell back asleep for the rest of the day, accidentally leaving it on. Because, I swear all day it was just snowing lightly but it just kept building up and up.

We had a street driveway snow shoveling party that morning. And yes, we had more people than shovels. Then after, we went to Braden Rymers house while singing an extended version of 'Banana Pancakes' by Jack Johnson, while Susan made us actual banana pancakes. My life was complete.

Snow day is officially over, and God woke up and turned off the switch, for now, at least.

(I am still upset about not getting my assignment however.)

The Girl With The Face.

I really dread most of my classes at school, but there is one more than others. And that comes around every other day on A days, 3rd period. Physical Education. It's for the reasons that you might think, and ones that you might not. First, I despise the physical part of Physical Education. I love the education part. You would think half and half wouldn't be so bad. But when one half is so awful, it makes the whole thing rotten.

One thing I must get out. I do not hate sports. Sports hate me.

I love being active. I love running around and playing games and feeling my cheeks grow all warm. But I hate doing this in front of my peers. I know, I know the self-conscious teenage girl is peeking out, but it's true. I really do hate it. But the things that I just said that I love to do aren't exactly what we do in P.E. There always seems to be a ball involved, and that ball always seems to be attracted to my face. No matter size or how fast it likes to fly through the air towards me.

My ball count is high. I don't know if I can name all of the times I have been hit. Once with a baseball [to my head] a volleyball [to my head] a soccer ball [to my head] a football [to my head] and the saddest of all a basketball x2 [to my head.] This was the saddest of all because one came to my head, almost knocking me over, and I looked around to see where the hell it came from when another came at the perfect angle on the other side.

There is something weird that snaps inside me when I am hit with a ball. My fears all come out, but only to me. My face still wears a perfect mask, with my eyes quietly and silently watering, usually not coming to a flow until the attention isn't upon my face anymore, or as long as I can hold it in. I feel small. Unable to run away or stand up to anything, and the many problems and weird unimportant things of my brain come spilling out my ears.

I loathe the girls who are good at sports. Who can look good in that horrible uniform they make us wear. It only drowns me. Who boys love to come and stare at by the door and watch them run up and down the court so attractively. I stumble and fumble. And try to stay out of the way. A.k.a. I hide.

Christmas is coming up, only a few days away. But I am not counting down for Christmas. I am counting down to the last day of P.E. And can I just say that I only have about 4 classes left? Then. The end. Forever. But the only reason I have made it this far is because of one thought that keeps running through my head. The thought that keeps a smile on my face when I look at those amazingly athletic girls, or see myself in a mirror in that costume they force me to wear, or when my eyes are watering and my nose and cheek feel frozen and plastered to my face. -- I am a dreamer. And that will love me more than basketball ever could.

-- I am a dreamer and I can dream forever.

Dinner Club

Dinner Club, though as rare and as special as it is, is most likely the best part of my Sundays. Which, isn't every Sunday, even though it should be. At dinner club, we get together with some friends (the long-lost camping buddies) and, have dinner. And do club things, such as; socialize and eat cheesecake, as we did this last Sunday. Even though I really don't like cheesecake, I like to watch people eat it. And can I just say that Eliza and Andrew are pro, but only when together.

With the camping buddies, there is an even amount of family members in each family. And, ironically, we are all about the same age as we go down the line. There was the older kids. (1 boy, 2 girls) the middle kids, (2 boys, 1 girl [me) and the little boys (3 boys.) But, just being where I was, I was always kind of tossed into the little boy category. And don't get me wrong, I am in love with the little boys, and I am in love with the idea of being a little boy. I am totally all for it actually. Throughout the last couple years, I have drifted from my little boys and fell back into the middle category. Only being few and certain circumstances when I join them. But at the last dinner club, there happened to be three tables. Those tables worked themselves out to be 6 (adults) 4 (big kids) and 4 (little boys) I thought harder than I should have at this little math problem. Yes, I would be returning to my 'little boys' stage for a couple hours. I was okay with this. We were all older, they might just be engaging. right?

We all stood in line, got food, and one by one made our ways back to the tables. I quietly took my rightful place at the little boys table and began to eat. Yes I was one of the first ones in line. Which was all for the better. I didn't want to cause a mess in placement by making someone unsure if I would be alright with the arrangement. But I carefully kept my eyes on the others as they began to make their own way back. The first two adults and two big kids sat down correctly. But then the next three teenage boys sat down at the adults table. I almost said. Hey. Wait a minute. Okay? I thought hard about this. I was good and sat with my 'clique' now you go and do the same. So adults then began to sit at the big kid table. But of course, all three little boys came and sat in the remaining three chairs by me. It was fine. I just concentrated on breathing. There was nothing wrong with the situation. Only, it was all out of order. But don't worry. I will eventually be fine.

I looked at the three and began to hope for that engaging conversation that I had expected before. I heard tales of Junior high lockers, and forks and their interesting nature, and the best of all when Dark Spore would be coming out on some kind of abc123 computer thing. I could hear the conversations swimming around at the other tables and began to realize that this wasn't going anywhere. I shoveled down the rest of my Chinese themed food and silently left the table.

I nonchalantly sat down at a table, where of course the food was almost gone, and with it the voices also. I had just missed everything. My spirits where low.

After the cheesecake as I mentioned before, we had tea, to accompany the theme. No one really enjoys tea their first time, so I found myself with more then one cup under my fingertips.

The goodbye was too early and much too quick. And I suddenly felt myself longing for another immediately.

The Alumni Singer

So there I was, entering the most well-built hell-hole I have ever seen. It was packed, there were people everywhere, old people, young people, thousands of choir students possibly the same size of Ghana, a little crying girl right behind me kicking my chair, dancing Junior high kids, loud clapping, people piled upon people, and long Christmas songs, it was a potent mix. And then I looked to my right where my mom was sitting, holding my hand, I knew that she felt the same way I did, and then I felt a small gaze on me. I looked past my mom and saw a little girl (sitting on her dad) just staring at me. Her eyes, were green. Or were they blue, actually it was pretty dark, so I am just going to say that they were gray. But they were just fixed on my own eyes. And then she gave me this little quirky smile, so weird and unusual and then the song ended and she jumped back to looking at the singers and then started waving her hands back and forth against each other. For a second I kind of forgot where I was sitting. I think I called it a hell-hole before? I forgot what I was tired of, or sad about, it was like she was looking right through me and into my soul. But after that one second of pure happiness, I immediately thought. 'What and I doing?' And then there were many more minutes that I just felt bad. I looked around again, and i thought, 'How am I not enjoying this?' And it was true, there were so many things to enjoy. The woman's chorus started singing a song about Mary. You know the one that is sung from her point of view. She said how she was only a young girl and how she had been carrying her father's son for many nights now, and she had be chosen for this great and very heavy burden, and it was really, really amazing. It was great. And then my little brother came on with all of those girls and posed as the monotone angel. it was quite adorable. And then Mrs. Bailey (my old choir teacher) asked all of the her old choir students in the audience to come up and sing Carol or the Bells with her Footnotes choir. It was the crowing jewel of the whole night. But anyways, what I was really getting at was that, I want to be just like that little gray-eyed girl. Sweet and innocent and just completely happy about everything.

Thank You John

One of the things that I love is reading a song title with a girls name mixed in. It just makes me want to listen to that song all the much more. And one person who did this a lot was Mr. John. Mr. John Beatle. I think I will call him. Thank you for;

• Julia
• Michelle
• Sexy Sadie
• Martha My Dear
• Dizzy Miss Lizzie
• Lady Madonna
• The Ballad of John and Yoko
• Hey Jude
• Maggie Mae
• Long Tall Sally
• Anna
• Eleanor Rigby
• Lovely Rita

I hope that someday there will be a song out there named, Amazing Amelia, Alluring Amelia, Foxy Amelia, or just plain old Amelia would do. That's all I really hope for.

Once again. Thank you Mr. John Beatle.

Geniet Van

To me there is really only one word that I can think of to describe myself and that is Amelia. I am so complex that is is simple. There are so many things about me that I don't think anyone will ever understand, even me. I apologize if you may know another Amelia. You will just have to think of other word for me. I will be thinking too, but until then, we will just stick with Amelia. And to of all my die-hard readers which I know aren't there, but my subconscious likes to think there are millions of people reading, geniet van, which in Dutch simply means, enjoy.