P.S. I Love You

I've realized how much I really love music. 

How much I love to play music.

How close I really am to my cello. 

I always thoughts my cellos were the most regal and fancy things that could exist on this planet. They were something that made me really feel, as cliche as it is, like a princess.  

I named my cello Sebastian. Sebastian Winston Croft if you want to get the details down. And he is my best friend. 

I've never really told anyone why I love playing my music as much as I do. I've always skimmed the answer and said that it makes me happy or it's just something I'm good at.... but it goes a lot deeper than that.

There's this single second in time.
 It happens right after I play, right after I put my heart and soul into a piece, whether in front of a hundred people or only myself; there's a single second right after I put my bow down and come back from whatever dream I put myself in and look up. 

It's a second of silence. 

Silent bliss.

In that second I don't care if I played beautifully or if I just played the worst thing in the world. 
In that second, nothing matters. 
I look up at everyone watching me or at the wall in front of me and I just breathe.
My cello and I are one at that moment. 
Nothing can go wrong.

I let everything go.

I feel good.

And then someone claps and the moment is gone. It's ruined or lost in the past.
It's something I crave

I crave that bliss. 
That second of wonderful silence in my world of constant movement and noise that I love so much.
I crave that bliss.


And that doesn't even get into how I feel when I actually play something. 
But that's for another time.


Good night.  

It's 2 Years Later

It's two years later.
It's 3:00 in the morning on Christmas Eve in the might year of 2014.

Why did I write in comic sans again?

Oh my.

We have to look back and be slightly embarrassed right? It means we did something right in our future selfs. For instance, never writing in comic sans ever again.
I've also abstained from writing "lol" "jk" and any other cringe-worthy shorthand whatever.
And Im proud to say that all of my "Heys" have only had one y.

I think I've officially succeed with my life.

There's no way that I can possibly catch up my nonexistent readers on what I have done in these past two years, so I'm not going to try. You'll just have to catch up as it is.

Anyway. Before I leave for the night, I'll tell one of my fabulously good stories that I just never want to forget about my college experience.

Mignight Snowmen

I know you're asking yourself, "What could this possibly be about?" I'm going to spoil it for you, and say that it's about snowmen at midnight.
So of course it is one of the nights before finals week, when the whole of the dorm was quietly studying their lives away at midnight, on a Saturday, because that's what you get in Honors Housing.
And then there was JoAnn and Mechu, who would do absolutely anything to not be like that.
JoAnn sought liquid courage.
Mechu was just bored.
They found a happy medium in a rash decision to go outside. (Let's recall the frigid, snowy air that is Ithaca in December shall we) The coats and gloves were all grabbed and ready to go, and the pair bravely strode into the wide world.
The air was brisk and the snow was crunchy. The brave duo went bravely into the quad in front of the dorm and plunged their hands into the snow, piling it over and over into this majestic creature.
But really it turned out to look like one big pile, so we put a hat and a carrot on it and said it was a work of art.
But did we stop there? Of course not. It was late. We were stressed. And we were high on exhilaration.
(We really don't get out much)
So we built a snowman at every single one of the other dorms in the lower quads.
Eastman got a slightly better one, it even had arms, dedicated to our lovely Pocahontas.
Boggart got a pregnant one with a fetus baby coming out of the front. It was the abstract piece. Also the place where I was violently assaulted by a boy with a snowball.
.....the other one? Got one right on their doorstep.
And we came back to Lyon for the big finally. This one even had buttons.
We were attacked by Lizzie coming from who knows where. Wink Wink Wink. That snowball fight, though intense and almost life-long, actually only lasted about five minutes before we got tired and went back inside.

What a crazy life, huh? #SoCollege #StayInterested
That's a story for next time.

And I won't even say Toodles.

I must be a changed woman.



P.S. The horror story which you've probably realized is that it is still in the unspeakable font and I don't know how to change it.