The Life and Times of a Part Time Dreamer....

39 nine teen girls, 16 hours, and a very uncomfortable bus = complete and total chaos!!!!! I have officially returned from tour ( I actually came back on Tuesday but I I needed some turn around time before I was willing to admit that I am really all here) My beautiful and angelic choir known as the Belcantos took a four day trip down to LA to participate in the festival of gold ( an invitation only choir competition) and to get to share the beautiful music we had been perfecting all year with new people. So at the decidedly late hour of 10pm Thursday night all 46 of us ( chaperone's, director, and pianist included) we piled on a large red bus and began a very memorable trip. Now the first thing we need to realize is that sleep is impossible when you are surrounded by friends in the first place, but when the Director stands and tells us all that ,it's lights out or he'll put our lights out, most of us tend to obey. Now I pride myself in being able to sleep better in a movi...

This is a piece of writing I turned into our school literature book. It's a memoir of my experiences at the real Lake View Park. The setting of the rainy day isn't real but it gave the piece the feel I wanted. Enjoy. The rain tickles through the leaves of the tree tapping my umbrella with unsure fingers. My rain coat squeaks as I move. The smell of the wet leaves and dirt bring back so many memories of playing in puddles and running in the mud. The vacant playset sways in the breeze. The paint chipped merry go round and swings beckon to be played on. The ducks playing in the canal just over the small hill, can be heard splashing and swimming in the spring shower. I am alone, my blue Grand-am the only car in the lot. I run my hand over the wet bark of the huge birch I stand under. Even now I still can’t put my arms all the way around its’ large trunk. “It’s been too long.” I murmur to myself as I trace the rough patterns of the bark. I watch the water pool on the leaf strewn asp...

I roll over and glance at the glowing green numbers on my clock across the room. 6:35 am I moan, roll over, and dedicate my self to ,at the very least, ten more minutes of sleep before I venture out into life again. I tuck my icy toes up closer where the blanket is warmer and try to suppress the dread of facing a day trapped behind the cement walls of the prison, misnamed as school, that I voluntarily go to everyday ( granted some days I go only by being held at gun point). I slip into the darkness of a wakeful sleep dreaming briefly of unfinished home work and ridiculous teachers. 6:45... ( growl) I stretched and stare at my ceiling blinking, slowly, very slowly, winning the fight against my heavy eyelids. Things that need to be done chasing themselves in dizzying circles. I work to stuff them down in a drawer of my mind so that I can think strait. Outside my blanket the air is chilly. I hunker under again saying I'll only stay in here for a minute, just until my toes are warm. My...