My Mindful Moleskine (Or, What This Blog is Really For)

Joyeux Noel!

I've gotten several of my Christmas wish list items, including that pocket watch. Tick, tick, tick.

I got a Moleskine pocket notebook. I've been looking forward to one lately, because I love collecting journals-notebooks-stationery to write on. Problem -- I never know what to write. I am worried I will destroy the page, or worse, the book.

So, that begs the question, what to do? Write stories? Not bloody likely. I edit too much and my stories have more strikethrough lines than words. A journal...I hate my own thoughts.

Then I thought, that's what I do on here anyway. Dictating posts to myself. What started as a friends project where I could communicate to people from life, since I am vehemently against Facebook -- has turned into a silent springboard for ideas. My friends took a look and went back to their blue screens with blinding white text and grey lines. Forever alone...

Now, I don't mean I'm a misanthropic emo who hates the world. I love the world. Most aspects of it. Well, half the aspects. 25.4% the aspects..? Well, the point is, I am just a reserved individual. Which is why I'm keeping this as my journal until when I see fit to close it.

In the occasion someone from the real world adventurously stumbles upon this barren wasteland of text, poetry, ideas, jumbled mishmash of thought -- Bonjour. Now please be silent while I sing "The Transformation Into Marlene Dietrich" in my head.


There.

And that is why this blog is so awesome.

-R

Sing For Your Lives!

On this date in history...

I will be performing in front of the entire school (well, more like assorted parents/students/teachers/random-ham people who wander in wondering what this is) in the choir concert.

Now, don't get me wrong. I am not in Choir, and don't have the slightest intention of being in choir in future. But my Lit teacher made me join and while originally dreading tonight, now I'm embracing it. I love the stage. I'm in drama. I love acting. I can emulate over 15 accents. I do monologues. In fact, soon I'll be doing a dramatic soliloquy of the mad Dr. Heinrich Faust in front of 3 classes. Fun.

Tonight I'll be presenting a holiday poem I spruced up for the occasion, entitled "The Author's Christmas". So, that's what going on tonight. While I listen to Red Balloon, by the ever-dramatic group of Vagabond Opera, I get more absorbed in the stormy events of tonight, to coin a poetic phrase. That song is so dramatically amazing. It sounds something out of a storybook.

"In the year 1873, Dr. Xander Gerrymander ascended the heavens in his marvelous red balloon. There, to ponder the cosmic verities, sail above the blue, and see the stars.
There, he took his sweetheart Nell, and together they danced bouyantly above the blue. Until one day, she was lost to him.

So he's still there today, searching, seeking, in his marvelous Red Balloon."

All that is in the first 35 seconds. Not even song. The song itself is a work of masterpiece, unsurpassed. Currently my favorite second, I love VO. Farewell Kabarista, Ganef, Tango 'Til They're Sore, Welcome to the Opera, Bei Mir, Ich Hob, and The Transformation into Marlene are their best songs.

But I must bid adieu now, as I go on to other (questionably) righteous pursuits. I'm making a birthday card for my father. He's 40 today.

To the next!
-Rob