Mudbloods and Childhood Relics

You know what's truly hilarious? When people write out the lyrics to their favorite songs and expect other people, reading them, out of context, to be moved. First of all, it's rare that anyone else in the world is going to give a crap about the emo poetry in your facebook status. Second of all, sometimes perfectly awesome songs make for perfectly awful poems. (Not hating on Marie'; that video's really funny/pretty.) Where was I going with this? Oh, yeah-- I'm deeply, passionately in love with The Mudbloods, and I was thinking today, as I listened to them on repeat with my sad face, how beautiful their lyrics are. One example of very readable songs. While they make the experience even more incredible, you don't need Adam Dubberly's dreamy voice or the haunting melody for "Since March, Since September, and Still" to make you heartsick.

Since March of last year, every time I go to sleep

You're always right here, next to me

Whether I stay up late, or I go to bed early

You're in my life until I wake up in the morning

And I don't know if I love it or I hate it

But it's more painful than I'd ever like to admit

It's masochistic, but it's almost really worth it

To be able to be with you for even one more moment

And every time I have to wake

I come to terms with my actual fate

That the only thing lying next to me

Is a couple books and a pile of CDs

I open my eyes and begin to return 

From either the past, or a future that might have been

Even though it's been almost a year now

It's like you've left me all over again. 

Isn't that pretty?! I really can't get over it. These are the same guys who wrote and performed the song to which my video "Early Fall" is set. I seriously, seriously suggest that you buy some of their music. (And really, when have I ever led you wrong with a recommendation?)

On a completely unrelated note, after school my second grade class got together to open a "time capsule" we put together ten years ago. TOLauren and I met in that class when we were assigned to share a yellow floppy disk for our computer projects, and we'd sit in tiny chairs for hours on end, writing and illustrating stories together. How cool is it that we've been best friends since we were seven? (Jess and I have been best friends since we were five, too, and Lauren, Sarah and I have been a trio-in-crime since we were ten.) While our most famous and discussed stories, "Stop, Junior!" and "The Small Apple" unfortunately did not make it into the box, I uncovered a handful of gems. A six-page typed story called "Mirisa's Book Challenge," for example, from the era before MS Word provided automatic spell-check. "She ran downstairs and had a boll of live ceryel" (page 3, line 5). I'm amused to find, as well, that my affinity for making up last names is no new habit, as seen in "Mrs. Randar" and "Mr. Ettle." Despite my faulty eight-year-old spelling, I cracked up upon reading this poem I created:

"A friend is someone that is caring.

One whom you can trust.

A person you are nice to

And do not throw in the dust.

If you want a friend you should be caring too.

Then a kid just might say

"I like you"!"

Well, sweetie, the exclamation point really should be inside the quotations, and there are some aspects of syntax I would change, as well as a few missing commas... HAHA. I USED THE WORD "WHOM" IN SECOND GRADE. HAHAHA. Oh, here's another goodie:

"On Sunday morn when

You get home from

The chapel sit down

And unwind and eat

This apple."

"My name is Hayley G. Hoover. I am 8 years old. My favorite food is spigetie. I like to read and write. My favorite colors are violet and lime green. I love Annie, Ramona [Quimby, of the book series by Beverly Cleary] and pecacho (which I'm going to assume is Pikachu). My teacher has a beard."

The now beardless teacher attends my church and works at Royal Family Kids' Camp with me, so I was trusted to borrow the much-coveted video yearbook on VHS. After a few minutes of random action shots, in which I'm seen loudly attempting to direct a play in the corner of the room to a most unenthusiastic cast, I highjack the camera and conduct obnoxious interviews with my classmates for a good half hour. "How do you feel about our class pet giving birth?" I ask a tiny, pudgy version of one of my current choir friends. "Okay," he answers, blushing. Little Hayley exhales furiously and continues digging for dirt. "What if it had been Godzilla? What would you do if it was Godzilla?" Ben giggles and replies that he doesn't know. Little Hayley, tired and bored, spends the rest of the interviews playing with the zoom button and talking in a slow-mo voice. I'm not sure how to import VHS tapes to my computer--Do I need some kind of device?--but if I ever figure it out, I'll surely post it all on the tubes.

Dear Hayley,

I'm all right; how're you? HELL. NO. Sorry to let you down. No, I'm about as coordinated as a wounded duck. You'll realize that pretty soon. Um, yeah, you could say I've "been in a show." About a million, give or take. Yes, I more than "like" to write. I feel the same way about it now that you did then, except now I can spell "really." I guess I can draw enough to get by. Yes, you are eighteen. Good math. You should probably have put a comma before "me" to make sense of that sentence, but I get what you're saying. Thanks!

Love, Hayley

Chipotle burritos this year: 15

Subscribers: 15,853

Days left of high school: 14

Bye, guys! Hopefully I'll see you tomorrow. Wish me luck for the AP Lit exam tomorrow, and thank you soooooooooo much for your continuing abundance of comments. <3