Need a little time to wake up.

Here's an acoustic (and slow) arrangement of the title song of Oasis's album (What's the Story) Morning Glory?

Let me know what ya think! The guitar is a little rough in a couple of places, but overall I'm fairly pleased with how it turned out. You'll learn in the middle that I can't scat for my life, but oh well. Enjoy!

There's a name that plays in my head like a song.

So in what little bit of spare time I've been having lately, I've enjoyed getting familiar with Garage Band. Yesterday I played around with "Just Pretend" by the Bens.

It's still really rough, but I couldn't really wait until it was finished to post it. I'm too excited! haha . . . This is the closest I've come to success with recording myself, and I intend to keep working on it and I'll post the finished product someday. Maybe over Thanksgiving I'll actually have time to work on it seriously? Anyway, enjoy!

Also, excuse the quality of my voice (or lack thereof) . . . Like I said, I was just playing around. Yes, my voice cracks a few times, the balance is off every now and again, and I obviously don't know how to cut off at the same time as my own self. Remember, this is NOT the finished product. :)

Also I'll be adding in more piano.

Ok enough explanation. Have at it.



Oh yeah, and I forgot to tell you, I'm pretty sure it will sound best with the volume all the way down.

And thus the creative juices were flowing . . .

A limerick I wrote this weekend:

There once was a chica named Katelyn
Who knew next to nothin' 'bout datin'.
But someday she'll have a man
With whom she'll hold hands,
And all the other girls'll be hatin'.

How appropriate.

Hi, reader(s). Meet today's perfect song. If you don't know why it's so appropriate for today, it's okay. I'll tell you when you're older.

Shawn Colvin One Small Year

One small year;
It's been an eternity.
It's taken all of me to get here.
The hands of time,
They pushed my down the street.
They swept me of my feet to this place
And I don't know my face.
Now all through the night I can pretend
The morning will make me whole again.
Then everyday I can begin
To wait for the night again.

One more tune
That will never be done;
It's just another one for the moon,
For the days in the ruin.
Just today I woke up feeling fine,
Like the world was mine;
I was clean,
And it was a dream.

Where out of the blue came you and me,
The Wizard of Oz has set us free.
You let me float you to your feet,
Just like you believed in me,
It's like you believed.

One small year.
I wonder where I've gone.
It shouldn't seem so long or so weird.
And I was always here.
It's just one small year.

Smells like teen spirit?

Today I smelled cigarette smoke for what must have been the first time in . . . well, a long time. And, despite the ensuing nausea, I couldn't help but smile. Because what does cigarette smoke in chilly autumn air smell like? Marching band season, that's what!

It smells like crying because of numb fingers. It smells like complaining of the stupid uniforms that were roasting hot in August and yet did nothing but make us colder in October-November. Also it smells like the thirty-year-old B.O. on those uniforms. It smells like step-one drills and lateral slides. It smells like laryngitis from yelling too much. It smells like dimes in the swear jar. It smells like teenage drama over battles for leadership. It smells like teenage drama over nothing.

It smells like not knowing anything about football. It smells like arguing with the cheerleaders. It smells like "Smoke on the Water" and "Final Countdown" and "The Hey Song." Also it smells like "Tequila."

But most of all it smells like storming the field when we get band of the day, fifteen people singing and listening to "Feliz Navidad" from one mp3 player and six splitters, daring each other to eat packs of Taco Bell's fire sauce, holding hands, laughing, crying, loving, and having some of the best times of our lives. Yes, that's right. To me, cigarette smoke in cold air smells like love. Go figure.