Piano Teacher-ed!

I was literally hyperventilating as we pulled up to her house.

I had painstakingly crafted each email to be the perfect mixture of polite, respectful, enthusiastic, and intelligent. 

I had dropped all my pieces except the ‘two contrasting pieces’ she requested.

I’d read between the lines of her short responses until I didn’t even know what she saying anymore.

I’d clipped my nails two nights in advance for optimal nail length.

I’d done all my homework for the entire week over the weekend so I could focus on practicing.

When I arrived, we noticed a car parked outside her house, with a lady waiting inside of it. 

“Do you have a child under her as a student?” we asked.

“Oh, no,” she said. “I’m picking up a friend’s student. She’s packed full. She won’t even let any of my 3 sons audition.”

And with that, any hope I had was swept away and run over by a bulldozer.

I walked in, nevertheless, and gave it my all.

And she began to teach me. What?

Near the end, after about an hour of teaching, she piped up, “By the way, I’ll accept you.” As if I hadn’t figured that out already!

I ran outside with an uncontrollable smile on my face. It was just so amazing. 

It’s not going to be easy. She pointed out quite a lot of problems I had with technique and whatnot, but she saw potential and was willing to work. AND, she said that I had a chance at getting into a decent music major!

Just such an unexpected pleasure.



My mother. Let’s talk.

She is irrational. She lets her feeling and emotions lead her judgements and actions. She is so overwhelmed with feelings that she fails to incorporate even a small portion of reason into her mind. 

She feels that she is perfect. She feels that everything ‘going wrong’ in her life is due to the actions of the people around her, that she had to control over anything. She feels like she had an amazing amount of potential, but that it was wasted because of other people. Nothing is her fault. 

She takes every opportunity to remind everyone of this. Every single argument, every slight disagreement that could have easily been discussed calmly and worked out…every one escalates into an emotional fit of tears. It’s the same every time. I stand there, attempting to get her to calm down, stating my points and defending them with evidence and reasons. She stands opposite me, ignoring everything I say with long-winded bouts of sobs about how much she loves us, how ungrateful we are for ‘everything she’s endured for us’. These inevitably pave the way for the inescapable rant about my father. She feels abused. She feels unhappy. All these years of being ‘selfless’ (which includes hundreds of dollars of shopping sprees, expensive dinners, pampering, and nights out with her friends).

I understand that she feels abused. I agree that my father was not the best husband. But she was not the best wife. She demanded things that no one could give her. She needed to feel appreciated at all times in outwardly ways. She needed constant reinforcement of affection. These were things that my father, nor my brother, and nor I could give her. We are introverts. Her needs were not in our capabilities.

I cannot wait to move out.


You know, I live in a quite nice neighborhood. 

Next door to my house, there lives a popular girl. She has tons of friends, and like all popular people, she has friends who like to do things such as vandalize property.

So this morning, us neighbors woke up to the most severe house TP/egging…well, ever.

Turns out, popular girl and her family were on vacation. So the neighbors realized that we had to do some.

We came armed with scrubs and hoses, squirt bottles and soap. And we scrubbed that house as best as we could for 4 hours.

Really, it was a beautiful thing. A community coming together to help out another. Yeah, I scraped my hands raw and bloody, I almost fell off the balcony, and I’m covered in dirt and grime. But I feel great.



We pulled up to the castle.

The valet took our car and we were ushered in. 

We were led to a table where 5 servers waited, with the chairs held out for us. As we sat, they pushed the chairs in.

Dinner began.

There were 4 courses. Each was the smallest thing in the world.

The servers literally waited by our tables together so that they could put our plates down at the same time. 

The servers would stand there and tell us what each tiny course was. All in French. As if we understood.

I hated every minute of it.

The servers could obviously see we were not used to this kind of high-class setting. We sat there, completely out of place, eating sickeningly rich foods that were literally dusted with 24 carat gold. They replaced our silverware every course. They laid a napkin over my brother’s table because he got some soup on it. It was ridiculous in every way.

The bill came out. I won’t put the exact amount, but I will say that it was an absurd amount of money. Absolutely, extravagantly, wasteful. I was in such complete shock that I showed no outward reaction.

Looking around, our follower diners literally were not finishing their courses. They were paying the same amount as us, and not even eating. I almost laughed out loud. How rich did you have to be? Did these people really have so much in excess that they could afford to just casually go out to dinners like these? 

There was really nothing more worthwhile that they could spend their money on. Nothing. Not donations, not helping out someone else. Nothing.

I hated it. I hated everything about it. 


I just talked to Friend ML and saw his face and actually talked for the first time in almost a month. I just messaged him and literally the next second, he called. I swear I miss him so much…It’s just nice to have a solid friend I can literally always, always count on; no insecurities, no doubts.

The Dangers of Entitlement

So the media center was closed for several days last week, leaving me stranded outside and unable to do homework. The horror! Soooo annoying.

I sent a email to the librarian. “Are these closed days going to be a regular schedule?” I asked. “It would be very helpful if there was a prior notice or something.” 

I’ll admit it. I was annoyed. I was a entitled little brat, and thank god my email only hinted at this. I was on the brink of writing in some attitude expressing the trouble it had caused me (a few hours of waiting around outside the school.)

After no response for a week, I let it go and forgot about it.

Yesterday, in the library (as it was open again), I smiled at the librarian. I had completely put last week out of my mind. But the librarian pulled me to the side. 

“I’m so sorry about the library being close last week,” she apologized. “It’s not going to be regular. Hopefully that won’t happen again.”

“Ok,” I said. I refrained from telling her the ‘inconvenience’ it caused me. And thank god for that.

She looked me dead in the eye and said, “You know, the reason it was closed was because my mother was in a horrific accident. She’s had brain surgery and is now in a coma…”

I was shock still.

“…So I apologize for my absence.”

It was as if she saw straight through me. She saw my little petty thoughts. And she put me to shame.

It was a reminder. Things are never perfect for anyone. Everyone’s going through something awful…

People are fragile. Be careful. Be kind. Be caring. 

Perfect Day

Can I just take a moment to acknowledge what a great day I just had?

It wasn’t a special day. It was really quite average. 

But it was such a good day.

1. It was productive. I got up early, did homework, finished it. Practiced piano and got a whole solid half page of a WTC in less than in hour. Done. Boom.

2. While I’m on piano, I finally got around to emailing some of my professors from over the summer. I emailed my studio instructor to say thank  you. I emailed another to ask for advice on my WTC. I emailed the last to ask for teacher recommendations in my area. I emailed my school teacher about a club that I’m starting. Made the page for the club and added all the sign-ups to it. All things I had been putting off. 

3. Also on piano, I had my first lesson with RU! It went quite well…it’s out of my comfort zone, which is always good. I’m challenging myself. How? He’s not classical. We’ll be doing pop songs and accompaniment…all which require a lot of knowledge and fluency in keys, chords, and progressions…really just a lot of music theory. Time to apply what I’ve learned.

4. Went out (I can be a pretty content hermit sometimes. Sometimes I have to force myself to get out) to a small group meeting. The content was relevant and I soaked it up. 

5. Choir! I finally got a ride. It was just as great as I thought. I was extra friendly because I do want to make friends. Talked to friend HF….I’m trying to get into her teacher’s studio. It’s tough. I’m nervous.

6. It was a good food day, which is always great.

7. I talked to friend ML (though that sort of went sour…) and friend HW AND OMG THIS NEXT ONE NEEDS A NEW BULLET POINT

8. ERC IS COMING TO VISIT I literally screamed when I got the news and ran around jumping. My mother was pretty amused.

It was just such a great day.